At Bluebonnet Lake (Texas Crossroads Book #1): A Novel (20 page)

That was good, but it also left Greg with more unanswered questions. What danger could he possibly be facing here, and—more importantly—why had Kate suddenly become part of his dream? Was the dream a warning to stay away from her? Though she’d comforted him, the comfort had exacted a terrible price. It was because of Greg that Kate had plummeted off the cliff. He couldn’t let anyone or anything harm Kate. But what could he do?

Wiping the sweat from his brow, Greg swung his legs out of bed and stared at the clock. It was too early to run. Until the sun came up, there was too much danger of turning his ankle on a rough patch of road, but there was nothing stopping him from a long, hard row.

I
think I’ll have her add purple stripes.”

Kate blinked as the words registered. “What did you say?” She and Sally had been enjoying a breakfast of fluffy Belgian waffles with peach syrup made—naturally—from Hill Country peaches when Sally delivered her bombshell.

“You weren’t listening to me,” her grandmother said with a hint of asperity. “Your body might be here, but your mind is miles away.”

The fact that the accusation was true and that it wasn’t the first time she’d heard it disturbed Kate. She used to be able to concentrate, but for the past few days, she’d found her mind wandering. Kate could blame it on Heather and the new account, but the problem had started before then. Ever since the bluebonnet festival, she had found herself daydreaming, and it wasn’t about peanut butter.

“I’m sorry. I was thinking about something else, and that was rude.” Kate raised her eyebrows as she watched her grandmother cut another piece of waffle. “You aren’t really going to put purple streaks in your hair, are you?”

Sally shrugged. “We’ll see. If you’d been listening, you would
know that I made an appointment to have my hair done tomorrow morning. I hope you’ll take me to town.”

“Of course.” It was no hardship to drive Sally to Dupree, and while she was waiting for her grandmother, Kate could pay a visit to Lauren’s quilt shop. “What time’s your appointment?”

“Nine o’clock.” Perfect. That was when Hill Country Pieces opened.

“Now, what was more interesting than the thought of your grandmother with Easter-egg-colored hair?” Sally sipped her coffee, never letting her gaze drop from Kate’s face.

There was no reason to lie. “I was thinking of Greg.” Though she’d also been reviewing the notes she’d made about Aunt Ivy’s campaign, Greg had been foremost in Kate’s mind. She’d wakened this morning with the feeling that something was wrong, that he needed her, but she couldn’t identify the source of her concern, and she hadn’t been able to talk to him.

When she’d gone to the lodge for her prebreakfast check of messages, Kate had looked for Greg, hoping to see him on the lake, but he’d obviously rowed earlier than normal today, because the boat was already on the dock drying. That might mean that he was jogging. Unless he had gone back to sleep after his early morning row, he wasn’t in his cabin. Though it meant a slight detour, Kate had been worried enough that she had walked past Greg’s cabin on her way back from the lodge. The absence of lights made her think he was gone.

“Did you know that Greg used to own a software company?” she asked.

Though Kate had meant it as a rhetorical question, Sally nodded. “Roy mentioned that. He said he’d been curious about him, so he did some checking online. When he saw Greg’s name associated with some fancy software company, he asked him point-blank. Greg wouldn’t lie, but he also asked Roy not to spread the story around.”

Sally took another bite of waffle. When she’d swallowed it, she continued. “Roy didn’t say anything more, but you don’t have to be a Rhodes scholar to figure out that Greg must have had his share of people pretending to be friends just to see what they could get from him.”

Kate had no trouble imagining that, and knowing what she did about his high school years, it wasn’t difficult to imagine how wary he’d become. What she didn’t know was why Sally and Roy had been discussing Greg in the first place.

“In case you’re wondering, the story came out when I told Roy I liked Greg much better than the other men you’ve dated.” Kate had been curious about that, but now a new worry assailed her: the possibility her grandmother could read her mind. Of course she couldn’t. Matchmaker Sally was at it again.

Uncertain whether or not to be annoyed by her grandmother’s discussion of her love life, Kate settled for a disclaimer. “Greg and I are not dating.” There was no way she’d tell Sally that Greg had kissed her. If her grandmother knew about that kiss—that wonderful, unforgettable kiss—she would consider it a signal to begin shopping for wedding invitations.

Sally smiled over the rim of her coffee cup. “You and Greg are spending a lot of time together.”

And Kate had told him things she had not confided to either Lou or Pete. Neither of them knew her mixed feelings about high school. The fact that she’d shared her past with Greg was another thing Kate would not tell her grandmother.

She shrugged, dismissing Sally’s observation. “In case you haven’t noticed, there aren’t a lot of other people here.”

“Don’t get defensive, Kate. Greg’s good for you.” The gleam in Sally’s eye told Kate she considered him a suitable candidate for grandson-in-law. And, knowing Sally, she had come to that conclusion before she learned that he was a wealthy man.

“Are you playing matchmaker again?”

“What if I am?” Sally stared at Kate, practically daring her to be the first to look away. “It’s a grandmother’s prerogative. I want to see you happily married. Is that too much to ask for?”

“No.” Kate reached for the syrup pitcher and drizzled some on the rest of her waffle. “It’s what I want too, but I need to find the right man.”

Sally’s grin resembled the famous Cheshire cat. “Open your eyes.”

“Would you taste this and let me know what you think?” Kate asked as she strolled into the kitchen, trying to look nonchalant. With some luck, Carmen would be able to turn this day around. So far, it had not been one of Kate’s best. The dark circles under Greg’s eyes refuted his claim that nothing was wrong. Everyone had an occasional bad night, but Kate suspected this was something more than run-of-the-mill insomnia. Still, if Greg chose to pretend that everything was fine, there was little Kate could do.

Then there was her grandmother and her insistence that Greg was the perfect man for Kate. Sally had expounded on that subject all through their morning walk, leaving Kate feeling decidedly out of sorts. Greg
was
a wonderful man. She knew that, but she also knew better than to think that attraction, even an attraction as strong as the one she felt for Greg, was the same thing as love.

The only positive thing that had happened was that when Kate had walked through the office, she’d found Angela with a broad smile on her face. It seemed she’d received a last-minute reservation for the weekend, a party of eight. For the first time since Kate had arrived, there’d be more than one table set for dinner.

Greg was working to ready the cabins for the new guests, Sally and Roy were playing chess, and Kate was trying to find a concept for Aunt Ivy’s. So far, the only ideas she’d come up with were duds, not worth discussing with Heather. In desperation, she’d come to Carmen, hoping that being in a kitchen might inspire her.

“I’d like your opinion.” Kate held out a jar of Aunt Ivy’s All Organic Peanut Butter with a sheet of plain paper covering the label. When she’d done test marketing in college, she’d been taught that it was critical not to prejudice an opinion in any way. It was a good precept made all the more important by the dated label. Stodgy, old-fashioned, blah. Those were the adjectives Kate used to describe the current label. What she needed was exciting, modern, maybe even edgy. But first she needed to know if the peanut butter was as good as she thought. That’s where Carmen could help.

Carmen dug a spoon into the jar, closing her eyes as she tasted, then swallowed the peanut butter. “It’s good,” she said at last. “Better than the brand I buy.”

That was what Kate had thought when she’d first tasted it. The problem was, she hadn’t been able to pinpoint the differences. “Better how?” Other consumers might not be able to describe differences, but Carmen could. This was the woman who knew exactly how much cumin to add to tamale sauce to give it the special something that distinguished it from ordinary sauces.

“Two things.” Carmen laid her spoon in the sink and turned back to Kate. “First, the chunks are a little bit bigger than most brands. That gives it more crunch. I like that, but some folks won’t, even the ones who normally eat crunchy peanut butter. The second difference is the flavor. It’s deeper than my old standby. It tastes more like freshly roasted peanuts than other brands.”

Kate scribbled notes, not wanting to trust her memory. It was good that Carmen liked Aunt Ivy’s, but there was one more critical question. “Would you buy it?” Kate removed the paper, revealing the label.

Carmen studied the jar. “If I hadn’t tasted it, I probably wouldn’t pick it up.” Her candor confirmed Kate’s belief that the label was a major deterrent to sales. “But now that I’ve tried it, I would buy it if it wasn’t too much more expensive.” Pointing to the label, Carmen added, “I like the fact that it’s organic, but organic products usually have a higher price tag.”

And price was important to the average consumer. While the affluent market that Aunt Ivy’s sought was less sensitive to price, Kate didn’t want to ignore a major market segment.

“What if it were the same price?”

“Then I’d definitely buy it.” Carmen reached for a clean spoon and took another sample. When she’d tasted it, she nodded. “As I said before, the flavor is excellent. The label wouldn’t catch my eye, though.” Her gaze was filled with curiosity. “Why are you asking all these questions and where did you get that peanut butter? I never saw it at the Piggly Wiggly.”

“I work for an ad agency, and Aunt Ivy’s is a potential new client. I need to come up with an advertising campaign, so my boss sent me a box of the product.”

Carmen’s cluck reminded Kate of her grandmother when she was annoyed. “I thought you were on vacation,” she said, her voice holding more than a hint of disapproval. “You’re like my daughter. Marisa doesn’t think of anything other than her job.” Leaning back against the counter, Carmen continued. “She’s an accountant, and she just passed the CPA exam. Now she’s trying to decide whether to stay with her current firm, go into private practice, or join some corporation’s accounting department.”

Kate wondered why Carmen seemed almost disapproving.
“It sounds like she has a lot of possibilities.” That made her more fortunate than many people.

Carmen nodded. “She does. I know her job is important, but I still wish she’d think about dating.” Carmen’s face darkened as she added, “I hate the idea that what happened between her father and me soured Marisa on the whole idea.”

Kate didn’t know what to say. She had seen Carmen’s wedding ring but knew that she lived alone in the stone lodge that Greg had explained was staff housing. Since she’d heard nothing about Mr. St. George, Kate had assumed that Carmen was a widow like Lauren. Now she wasn’t so certain.

The question was whether or not she should ask Carmen about her past. Kate hesitated, then decided that the older woman had opened the door. “I don’t mean to pry, but what happened?”

The pain that filled Carmen’s eyes made Kate want to hug her, but something about the woman’s demeanor made her stop. Instead, Kate stood stiffly and waited to hear Carmen’s explanation. “Eric left us. He disappeared without any warning and without any word almost eight years ago.” Carmen closed her eyes for a second before adding, “It was the day of Marisa’s high school graduation. We haven’t heard from him since.”

Kate shuddered at the images Carmen’s words evoked. “Oh, Carmen, I’m so sorry.” This time, she followed her instincts and gave the woman a hug, dropping her arms when Carmen shook her head.

“It’s not your fault. I’m not sure it was any one person’s fault.”

That might be the truth, but it did not lessen Kate’s desire to help Carmen. “It must have been difficult for both of you.”

Kate knew she would never forget those first few months after her parents had been killed. Despite the love Sally and Grandpa Larry had lavished on her, it had been a horribly painful time. In many respects, what Carmen and her daughter had endured
was worse. Kate’s parents hadn’t chosen to die, but Carmen’s husband had made the choice to leave his family. Kate knew where her parents were buried, but Marisa had no idea where her father had gone or whether he was still alive. Kate had had the example of her grandparents’ marriage and knew that wedding bells could lead to a life of happiness. Marisa had no such role model. It was no wonder she wasn’t convinced that marriage was the start of happily-ever-after.

Carmen tasted her tamale sauce, nodding briefly before she turned to face Kate. “It was difficult,” she admitted. “If I hadn’t been working here, I don’t know what I would have done. After Eric left, I couldn’t make mortgage payments and pay for Marisa’s college. I did everything I could, but I still lost our house.”

The story wrenched Kate’s heart. No wonder Carmen had been so interested in Brandi and Olivia’s search for scholarships. She had firsthand experience with the challenge of paying for college.

“I was fortunate,” Carmen said, her bittersweet smile surprising Kate. “The previous owners let me live here, and when the Sinclairs took over, they agreed I could stay.”

But now Carmen’s future was once more uncertain. If Rainbow’s End closed, not only would Carmen lose her livelihood, she’d also lose her home.