The Barefoot Summer(52)

“At the time a tightrope walker.” He grinned.

“Lord help my soul!” Hattie gasped. “When you were ten, you were like a long-legged newborn colt.”

“But it sure looked exciting,” Victor said.

Was the excitement surrounding everything in Bootleg what had gotten a firm hold on Kate’s heart and soul? If so, it would end and be nothing but a memory after she got back home in a few weeks—much like Victor’s excited idea of joining the carnival. Kate was an oil woman, born, bred, and raised to work in that field. Could she ever be anything else?

Jamie reeled in a fish about the size of the one Victor had caught. “I wanted to be a teacher from the time I was a little girl.”

Kate had no trouble believing that. Jamie was one of those people who had tunnel vision. It’s a good thing that she didn’t find out about Conrad before he was dead, or that one-track mind-set might have landed her smack in jail for life.

“I’ve worked in lots of places since high school.” Amanda reeled in her line and laid her rod and reel on the dock. “Convenience store, auto supply business, lumber yard, retail clothing, banking, and now my little discount-clothing place. But as a child, I only wanted to be a mother. I guess I’m finally getting my wish. What about you, Kate?”

Kate kept her eye on the bobble dancing out there on the gentle lake waves. “I’m like Victor. I was raised to take over for my mother in the family business, and I suppose it’s too late now to think about anything else.”

“It’s never too late to change,” Hattie said. “When we sold the store, I didn’t think I would ever get used to staying at home every day, but I did, and before long, it was the best job I ever had. I get to be more involved with the church and the festival, and I get to go fishing when I want. So don’t ever think that you can’t change your mind.”

Even at forty-four years old?

“So if I want to run away with the carnival in a couple of weeks, no one will shoot me?” Kate teased.

“I wouldn’t shoot you, but I’d rather you stayed here in Bootleg,” Victor said.

“My mother would drop graveyard dead if I even mentioned such a thing,” Kate said softly.

“Naw, she wouldn’t.” Victor chuckled. “She might rant and rave for a while, though if she came to visit you here, she’d understand. And she might even taste the water here and be willing to join us.”

“Well, I think the water tastes terrible, but I like it here,” Gracie said. “I talked to Snugglies last night and he said he wouldn’t mind if we lived here forever.”

“Who is Snugglies?” Victor asked.

“He’s my teddy bear, and I tell him everything,” Gracie said.

“Well, then, I guess he’s very important,” Hattie said.

“Oh, yes. He’s almost as important as my mama,” Gracie told her and then started singing. “Come on, little fishies, eat the worm on my hook.”

Before she could sing the line the fourth time, something took the cork under the surface. “Come help me, Mama,” she squealed.

“I can’t,” Jamie shouted. “I’ve got a bite, too.”

Kate laid her fishing pole to the side and hurried over to Gracie’s side. Putting her arms around the little girl’s shoulders, she gently held the rod steady and helped her turn the handle on the reel. Victor looked like he was about to dance a jig right there on the rough wood platform when they brought in another nice-size catfish. With those moves, maybe he could have mastered the tightrope.

“Would you look at this, Hattie? We’re going to have a feast,” he yelled.

“I’m not hard of hearing!” She tapped her ears. “But take a look at Jamie’s fish. It’s almost as big as Gracie’s! Your singing worked, child. You really might snag the biggest fish at the festival.”

“I’ll get these two cleaned up while y’all get out the picnic,” Victor said.

“Kate, do you really think my song helped?” Gracie eyed her seriously. “Or are they just tellin’ me that to get my hopes up about them tickets?”

Kate hugged the child to her. Would her daughter have looked like Gracie? Or would she have had blonde hair and blue eyes?

Gracie wiggled out of her embrace. “You smell like a hay barn.”

“And how would you know what a hay barn smells like?” Kate asked.

“My friend in Dallas, her grandpa lives on a ranch and we went there for rodeo day. It made me sneeze. Mama said it was raggy weed.”

“Ragweed.” Jamie smiled.

“Then if you ever went to Waylon’s ranch, do you think the hay will make you sneeze?” Kate asked, thinking that she might take her out there some Sunday afternoon just to see the animals and play for a while. Surely Waylon wouldn’t mind.

Kate picked up her sacks of food and carried them to the quilt that Hattie was busy smoothing out on the grass.

“No, ma’am,” Gracie said quickly. “I’m not sneezing right now and I smelled hay on you. And if I go to Waylon’s, I’m going to ride a horse.”

“And who told you that?” Jamie asked.

“Waylon is a cowboy even if he is a cop. And I bet he’s got a horse and I’m going to ask him if I can ride it.” Gracie plopped down on the quilt.