A Rancher's Pride(54)

She had just returned to the kitchen when she heard the front door close again. She moved through the archway into the living room to investigate. Sam knelt in front of the entertainment center, pulling boxes from its lower section.

“You could have told me you needed something from the house,” she said, crossing the room. “I’d have been happy to get it.”

“No problem.”

She looked down at the boxes. Checkers and chess and other games for the kids to play with. “If I’d known you’d had these,” she said, “we could have been playing them all along with Becky.”

“We still can.” He rose, his arms filled with boxes, and pretended to leer at her. “And we can try some other games once she goes to bed.” Laughing, he walked to the front door.

She followed, frowning.

By the time she reached the porch, he was already disappearing around the corner of the house.

Along the road from town, a procession of pickup trucks and cars approached the ranch. The residents of Flagman’s Folly were about to arrive. Suddenly, her throat felt dry and her hands damp.

As she had told Lianne, everyone she’d met seemed to like her. Everyone but Judge Baylor, the one person who held her fate in his hands. One of these vehicles could be bringing him here. Bringing him closer to a decision.

The judge’s imminent arrival had twisted her nerves tighter by the hour.

Sam’s attentions only made everything worse.

No matter how much he joked with her, no matter how many signs he was willing to learn, she couldn’t let him get to her. Theirs was a temporary relationship. She couldn’t forget her permanent goal.

One of the pickup trucks pulled to a stop at the side of the road. The others lined up behind. Children seemed to spill from every vehicle. Seconds later, the yard filled with people and chatter and the smell of good food.

She glanced over toward Becky, who now stood leaning against the fence. When she caught Kayla looking her way, she hooked her index fingers together briefly, then quickly reversed the hand position several times.

“Friends.”

Nodding, Kayla bobbed her fist in the air and fought back tears. For Becky, there wouldn’t be any undercurrents, any history behind her conversations today. Becky, at least, would have a fun, carefree time playing with the children she’d taken the class with at the arts center and with others she would meet this afternoon. And Lianne had called it right—their niece certainly wasn’t shy.

Kayla was no pushover, either. She straightened her shoulders, uncurled her clenched fingers, and smiled at the women coming toward her, their hands filled with carrying bags and casserole dishes.

“Good to see you, ladies,” she said brightly. “We’ve got tables set up in the backyard.”

As she ushered them past the house, she glanced at the people still streaming from the long line of vehicles at the side of the road. No sign of the judge so far. Maybe something had come up, and he wouldn’t be able to attend the barbecue today.

Could she be that lucky?



NO SUCH LUCK.

By the time late afternoon rolled around, the judge had not only made his entrance, he had become the hub around which the entire barbecue revolved.

Kayla should have known.

Worse, when the last sticky hand and face had been wiped with the oversize paper towels they’d used as napkins, the last ear of corn had been chewed to the nub, and the last dessert crumb had disappeared, the judge leaned back in his chair—one brought especially for him from the front porch—and grinned a barbecue-eating grin.

“Good stuff, huh, Judge?” Sam said.

She could have kicked him under the makeshift tabletop.

“Right tasty,” the man agreed. He turned to Dori, seated beside him. “That caramel custard thing was just about this side of pure bliss.”

She smiled.

Manny, on her other side, leaned forward. “She makes magic with pastry, my Dori.”

“That she does.”

“What do you say, Judge?” Sam asked. “You up for a round of horseshoes?”

“Sam,” Kayla said sweetly, “we’ve just finished eating.”

“Yeah. No problem.”

“I think it might be.” She widened her eyes, all innocence. “Don’t you think Judge Baylor might want some time to relax?”

“Relax?” The judge sat up. “Who needs time for relaxing? What are you trying to pull here, young lady?” He laughed, but the laserlike gaze he shot her way made her shiver. “I’ve got to burn off some of this food and get myself ready for seconds on those sweets.”