The Barefoot Summer(71)

“I’ll go,” Kate said quickly. “Hattie, you sit right here on the curb in this little bit of shade. Victor, you better stay with her in case this is heatstroke coming on.”

“I’ll go with Kate and help tote the drinks back,” Waylon said.

How did anyone stay mad at him? Or better yet, how did anyone keep information from him when he smiled? No wonder he had such a good record for closing cases. He could talk a priest into revealing what was said in confessional.

Kate positioned herself in the line so she could keep a watch on Hattie. She and Victor were talking. Maybe she was simply tired and thirsty. The sun was broiling hot, and Hattie had been on her feet for a while.

Waylon touched her on the arm. “Are we okay?”

“I hate fighting. It’s all I did with Conrad after that first year.”

She hated saying his name. Would Conrad always stand between her and another relationship or even friendship?

Only if you let him, the voice in her head said, and this time it was her father, not her mother.

“It’s all I did with both of my wives. They hated my work schedule and my paycheck and the apartment we lived in,” Waylon said. “I vowed I’d never go through that again.”

“So did I,” she said.

“I didn’t grow up in a fighting family,” he said. “I had to learn the art of arguing when I got to college.”

She nodded. “I know exactly where you are coming from.”

Her first fight with her roommate had been over keeping the bathroom clean, and they hadn’t spoken to each other for a week afterward. She’d thought at the time that nothing could ever be that awkward and uncomfortable again—little did she know.

“Hey, there’s the rest of your family over there with Hattie and Victor,” Waylon said.

The rest of her family—those words played in a continuous loop through her mind. Not a one of those folks was blood kin, but she cared about them, about their futures, about the baby Amanda was going to have soon and about Gracie’s happiness. Did that make a family?

The hot July breeze whipped her hair around as they moved them up to the window. Waylon pulled out a bill and laid it on the counter.

“Two big Cokes, one sweet tea, and . . .” He looked over at her.

“A root beer,” she said.

“I wonder if the other folks would want something?” he asked.

“We only have two hands each.” Kate smiled. “And look, they’re starting this way.”

They passed one another in the middle of the road. Girls skipping ahead with Jamie and Paul behind them. Aunt Ellie and Mama Rita were right behind them, with Amanda and Wanda bringing up the rear. They looked like a family, and Kate envied them even the pretense.

“These drink wagons are going to make a fortune today,” Paul said. “Especially with the kids thinking they have to run everywhere. It’s worse than trying to herd cats.”

“And that makes them hot, and the heat makes them thirsty.” Waylon grinned.

“But they are so happy with their little red faces. Think how well they are going to sleep tonight,” Kate said, wishing for the thousandth time that she had a whole bunch of kids to herd like cats that day.



Kate felt sorry for Gracie on Sunday morning. She was still disappointed that she hadn’t won the fishing contest in her category. She came in third place, netting her a new tackle box and some fishing gear, which she declared would help her win the next year. Still, it wasn’t easy to go to church knowing that Jeremiah—a boy, at that—had won the tickets to Six Flags.

“At least I get to go to the ranch tomorrow and ride in the stagecoach. Jeremiah don’t get to do that,” she declared as they entered the church and headed up the middle aisle to join Hattie.

“Gracie!” Jamie chided.

“Well, I do, and that’s better than Six Flags tickets, ain’t it, Kate?”

“Maybe you could ask for those tickets for your birthday,” Kate said. “I went to Six Flags one time, and it reminded me of the festival. Vendors and rides. Not a lot of difference.”

“Then I’d rather have a pony for my birthday.” Gracie skipped along to the pew where they usually sat.

They were getting settled when Waylon slid in the end space beside Kate. He leaned over and whispered, “My partner at the precinct called. There’s a new lead. Nothing much yet, but on Tuesday I’m going to Dallas.”

“On Tuesday the girls and I will be in town for our name change business,” she said.

The song leader took her place behind the lectern and gave out a number. Kate had never heard the song, but she found the place in the hymnal. When the piano player started a run that sounded a whole lot like Floyd Cramer’s, everyone in church began to clap along with the music.

The tune was simple but fast and the words repetitive: “Glory, glory, hallelujah, since I laid my burden down.” Every other line repeated the line about laying down the burden. What Amanda had said about them sharing the burden three ways for being a fool when it came to Conrad came to her mind.

Kate thought of the load that Waylon was carrying as he tried to solve Conrad’s murder. And even closer to home was the burden she carried about the oil company. Had God or fate or destiny put it all on her at this time of her life because it was time to make a change?