The Barefoot Summer(50)

“Some things are simply impossible,” she whispered as she rolled up the window and headed back toward Bootleg.

Never work. Too much change. Those words played through her mind as she drove home.

Home. Was it really where the heart was? If so, where was her heart?

Your heart should be focused on our business. And what makes you think that cop can clear your name? All that information you gave him might be a load of crap. The voice in her head was definitely her mother’s. I told you not to marry Conrad. Why can’t you ever pay attention to me? Don’t get involved with that man. You have no sense when it comes to men.

She shook her head so hard her ponytail whipped around and slapped her in the face. “Heavens, Mother! You can’t even refrain from saying you told me so in my thoughts.”

And what do you expect to accomplish by letting that cop drive your cars? Do you think that will make him fall in love with you? I’ve told you over and over to focus on your job and the company.

“Hush,” she said loudly and turned on the radio to the country music station that she liked.

She missed the turn to go into town for beer and soda and was trying to keep her mother out of her mind when she parked in front of the cabin. She slapped the steering wheel with both palms and turned around to go back to the store.

The heart is a fickle thing. It trusted Conrad. I cannot let it guide my decisions, she thought as she pushed open the glass door to the store. She picked up the beer and diet soda pop and added a couple of bags of chips.

“Anything else?” the lady behind the counter asked.

Your heart did not trust Conrad. If you’ll remember, you did have doubts even on your wedding day, but there’d already been the big splash of a shower and the wedding plans. Teresa was back in full force.

“Are you all right?” the lady asked.

Kate came back to reality with a jerk. “I’m so sorry. I was off in la-la land.”

“Happens to all of us. Anything else?”

“Yes, please add half a dozen burritos and maybe a dozen cheese sticks from the deli.” Kate pulled out her credit card.

She toted her bags out to the car and put them in the backseat, got inside, and in a few minutes realized she was on her way back to the ranch instead of the cabin. She braked hard, leaving a trail of dust behind her from the dirt road.

“Get your head on straight, Kate!” Her voice bounced around in the car like marbles in a tin can, echoing from every surface to remind her that she should think about what she was doing.

Amanda waved from the front door when she finally pulled up in front of the cabin for the second time that evening. “Hey, we’re all fishing from the dock. We’re having a picnic supper down there in a little while. Come join us. Did you bring beer and soda pop?”

“Yes, I did. I’ll just haul it all down there instead of unloading in the house,” Kate said.

“Need some help? I came up to go to the bathroom. Whoever built this place should have put a toilet in the boat shed.”

“Got a couple of bags of chips and burritos that you can carry. I’ll take the heavy stuff,” Kate answered. “I probably should wash up.”

“You look like hell, but so do the rest of us.” Amanda smiled. “We’ll all smell like fish before dark anyway.”

“Kate, come and see the fishes that I caught. One is big enough to eat for dinner tomorrow,” Gracie hollered as Amanda and Kate made their way down the steps to the boat dock.

Just seeing her put a smile on Kate’s face. “You are quite a fisherman, Miss Gracie!”

“And I got four,” Hattie called. “We’ll have enough for a fish fry before the sun sets.”

“Hey, Hattie and Victor. We haven’t seen you two in a while.” Kate set her bags beside the picnic basket over toward one side and sat down in the only empty chair left.

“Been busy with the festival planning board,” Victor said.

“We hit a snag and had to make arrangements for a different kind of carnival, so we’ve both been up to our eyeballs in finding another one. Long as we have a Ferris wheel, I’m happy.” Hattie watched the red-and-white fishing bobble dance out there in the water. “I hear you’ve taken on a job with Waylon. How’s that going?”

“I drove a hay wagon on Tuesday, took Wednesday off because of the rain, and then went in today. It’s quite a change from what I’m used to doing,” Kate answered. “Waylon has police things to do tomorrow in Dallas instead.”

“Here.” Victor handed her a fishing rod and reel. “I baited the hook for you. Reel it in easy if your cork goes under.”

Kate had never been fishing in her entire life, but she held the rod and watched the red-and-white ball at the end of the line. “How many fish would it take for us to have a fish fry?”

“Ten if they are good size,” Hattie answered. “When we get enough, I’ll make hush puppies and baked beans. Victor, you can bring your famous coleslaw.”

“Hattie makes the best fried catfish in the whole universe,” Victor said. “I’d marry her just to get the recipe.”

“You old coot.” Hattie giggled. “No woman in her right mind would marry you. I don’t know how Lorraine put up with you all those years.”

“Love, darlin’.” His grin erased a few of the wrinkles lining his face. “She loved me, and truth be told, I’d never remarry, not even for your damned old recipe.”