The Barefoot Summer(41)

“Thanks for the offer, but it’s getting late, Waylon. If we’re going to have a repeat of this day, then maybe I’d better go on home. Besides, I’m too full for dessert. I’ll help you get things cleaned up, though,” she said.

“Not necessary. It’ll all go into the dishwasher. I’ll walk you out to your car. Then I can look for you tomorrow, for sure?”

“Yes, you can,” she answered. “What time?”

“Ten o’clock is fine. We have to wait for the dew to dry so the hay doesn’t mold when it’s stacked in the barns.”

He escorted her through the kitchen and the screened porch with his hand on the small of her back. It was such a simple gentlemanly gesture, but it sent her on a roller coaster of emotions, from worry that this was all staged to draw more information about Conrad out of her to plain old hot desire.

Has he talked about Conrad one time tonight? the voice in her head asked. Has he asked you to confess to anything?

Don’t confuse me, Kate argued. I’ve been conned before.

Kate bent to pick up her sandals and tripped over her own two feet. She reached out for something, anything at all, to break her fall, but all she got was an armful of air. Instantly, Waylon’s strong arms were around her, steadying her and drawing her to his chest. She looked up to thank him, but before she could say a word, he had tucked his rough knuckles under her chin. She barely had time to moisten her lips before his mouth closed on hers in a fiery kiss that glued her feet firmly to the soft carpet under them.

“Wow!” she said when the kiss ended.

“Yes,” he drawled. “I’ve wanted to do that since I met you.”

Common sense said that she should go to the car. Her heart wanted to stick around and see if the next kiss could possibly be as good as the first.

“I have to go,” she whispered as she took a step back.

“You aren’t angry, are you?”

She shook her head. Why would she be upset about a kiss like that? “No, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Will you pay me in kisses? I don’t need the money.

He walked her the rest of the way to her vehicle and brushed a sweeter kiss across her lips after he’d opened the door. “Text me when you get home so I know you made it all right.”

“Will do,” she said, not trusting herself to say more.

She drove all the way home and had parked in front of the cabin before she realized that she’d left her sandals lying in his yard. She was still barefoot.





CHAPTER TWELVE

Amanda climbed the three flights of outside steps to her apartment, opened the door, and flipped the light switch. It was only six o’clock, but dark clouds covered the sky, making her little home as dark as midnight. The doctor’s visit had gone well, and she didn’t have to come back for two weeks. Time for a quick shower.

She’d had lunch in the back room with Aunt Ellie and Wanda after the appointment. They’d talked about the baby, about the weather, but she didn’t mention the argument from the night before. There was no need to upset Aunt Ellie. God was going to answer her prayers and give her the cabin.

So why did she feel like eating railroad spikes and spitting out thumbtacks? Everything was fine.

She picked up pictures scattered around the living room one by one. Conrad smiled back at her from every one of them. She gathered them up and laid them on the coffee table. With one hand on her back and using the arm of the sofa as a brace, she lowered her body to a sitting position. Then she started to study the pictures. Her eyes sparkled in every one of them, but Conrad’s looked bored in all the ones after the wedding.

“I was so happy,” she whispered, “and such a fool. Why did you marry me, anyway? You had Gracie, and she’s a beautiful soul.”

No answers fell from heaven to land in her lap, but a loud clap of thunder did startle her.

“I haven’t even changed the sheets on the bed since he was here.” She stood and paced in a circle through the tiny space. “You came to my bed after you’d been with other women. Not Kate and maybe not even Jamie in the past few weeks, but who knows what other hussy slept with you? I can’t stay here with your pictures staring at me.”

She’d planned to take a shower to get rid of that lotion the ob-gyn had used, and quite possibly to spend the night in her apartment, but the thought turned her stomach. She could throw the pictures in the trash, but the trash man didn’t come until the end of the week.

Trudging back through the living room, she picked up her purse and turned off the light. When the door was locked, she headed back south to the cabin. Even with the arguments, she felt more at home there than she did in Wichita Falls.

The heavy summer rain on the road obliterated everything from her sight except a vision of Conrad in those pictures in her mind. In the next half hour’s slow progress, she finally admitted to herself that there were probably no divorces. She was nothing more than the third wife of a polygamist who’d married her because she was gullible.

At Dundee the rain slowed to a drizzle, and by the time she got to Mabelle, the skies were clear, but the sun had set and it was dark. Stars twinkled around a three-quarter moon. Conrad had loved looking at the moon with her out on the minuscule balcony at her apartment. Had it all been a farce, or were some of those tender moments the real deal? Now she’d never know. She wasn’t sure she even wanted the answer.