Cathy Thacker - Texas Vows - A McCabe Family Saga

Tension stiffened Kate’s shoulders as the conversation veered into dangerous territory. She folded her arms in front of her and squared off with her dad. “Pete’s death was not Sam McCabe’s fault.”

“And I suppose what he did to Ellie that year wasn’t his fault, either,” Mike countered sarcastically.

Kate flushed. “Sam loved Ellie, Dad.”

“He ruined her reputation, Kate.”

Just as Mike now feared Sam would somehow ruin hers, Kate thought. “Maybe for five minutes,” Kate allowed, remembering how the scandal had rocked the town initially. Kate went over to the bureau and got her brush. “Once they were married, I don’t think anyone cared.”

“Nevertheless, he proved he can’t be trusted around innocent young women.”

“Dad, I’m thirty-one years old,” Kate said wearily as she caught her hair in a French twist and pinned it in place.

Mike’s face softened. “And still as sweet and innocent as the day is long, thank God.”

Kate was silent. She had lost her virginity to her fiancé a long time ago, but her father would never accept that she was not a kid anymore. No, as far as Mike Marten was concerned, she was still daddy’s little girl! Wondering when it was going to get easier to deal with her dad, she slipped her hairbrush into her tote bag and regarded her dad steadily. “I’m old enough to take care of myself.”

“That won’t stop a man like Sam McCabe from making a pass at you,” Mike warned grimly.

He already has. Pushing the memory of Sam’s lips and hands away, Kate turned back to her suitcase. “There are going to be five boys there as chaperones. Sam is not going to do anything in front of his sons, especially when they are so clearly grieving the loss of the mother they loved so much.” Otherwise, she probably wouldn’t be able to stay over there, given what had already happened between her and Sam.

“I still think you ought to concentrate on your upcoming marriage to Craig and let the McCabes take care of their own.”

Kate wondered how her dad would feel if she were involved in the solution. Would he at long last be really and truly proud of her? As proud as he’d been of Pete at the height of Pete’s high school football career? Even as she wondered she knew the only thing her dad was likely to respect her for was becoming Craig’s wife—and providing a few grandchildren for him and her mom to love. Mike was desperate to carry on the family name, and had even talked Craig into naming their first son Marten Michael Farrell.

“It may just be for a couple of days, at most a few weeks.”

Gently, Joyce asked, “What does Craig think about this?”

Kate shrugged. “I didn’t ask him.”

“But he’s your fiancé,” Joyce protested, upset.

“That doesn’t mean he controls my life,” Kate countered stubbornly.

“Honey,” Joyce said, aghast, “this is the kind of thing…moving into another man’s house…that a young woman should discuss with her fiancé.”

Kate knew Craig wouldn’t mind. She grabbed her laptop computer and headed for the door. “I’ll tell Craig what I’m doing the next time I hear from him,” she promised.

“When will that be?” Mike asked, exchanging concerned looks with Joyce.

“I don’t know. I never know.” That was one of the frustrations of being involved with a military man. “Soon.” She hoped.

“I’ll tell you one thing,” Kate’s dad said as he carried her suitcase and tote bag down to the car for her. “That Sam McCabe better appreciate what you’re doing for him and do right by you or he’s going to find himself answering to me.”

LATE SUNDAY AFTERNOON, Sam summoned his boys to the living room to tell them Kate Marten would be taking care of them temporarily.

“Starting when?” Will asked, belligerent as ever.

“She’ll be here any minute,” Sam said. And he was dreading it.

“Why’d you wait so long to tell us?” Riley demanded at once.

Because I was hoping she’d come to her senses and change her mind, Sam thought. He gave his most brashly outspoken son a stern look. “I’m telling you now.” Not that she’d be here more than a day, anyway, Sam reassured himself. Once Kate had refereed a few fistfights and put up with temper tantrums, surly moods and nonstop rowdiness, she’d understand what it was really like to ride herd on five boys twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. She’d want out. And no one, least of all him, would blame her for packing up and going back to work at the hospital, where she belonged.

“It seems to me—if we really want a total babe like Kate Marten to help us out for the next few weeks—that we should be doing the opposite and really cleaning up our act.” Brad pulled mint breath freshener from his pocket, sprayed some in his mouth, then paused to check his reflection in the mirror.

Sam frowned. It was exactly this kind of thing he sought to avoid. He did not want his home life turning into some sort of B movie with a bunch of underage kids lusting after the “baby-sitter.” “That’s enough,” he warned. “I don’t want anyone coming on to Kate Marten or calling her a babe, even on a lark. She’s a nice woman.” If ill-advised, Sam amended silently to himself. “And she deserves your respect.”

“Just not yours?” Riley guessed, his shiny silver trumpet dangling from his fingertips.

Sam tensed. “What do you mean?”

Lewis stopped fiddling with his hand-held video game long enough to say, “We get the feeling you don’t like her.”

Sam felt the eyes of all five of his sons upon him. “It’s not that,” he said uncomfortably.

“Then what is it?” six-year-old Kevin asked in frustration as everyone turned to him in amazement. Since Ellie’s death, he rarely spoke.

Noticing the peanut butter and jelly on his hands, Kev attempted to clean them off by wiping them on his shirt.

“Are you afraid she’s gonna get on your nerves by asking you how you’re feeling all the time and stuff like that?” Riley blurted.

There was that, Sam thought. Kate, being the do-gooder she was, probably wouldn’t hesitate to try to force some counseling down his throat. He had news for her—it wasn’t going to happen. Here, or at the hospital. He knew how women liked to talk things to death, but there was nothing talking about Ellie’s passing managed to do except bring him and the boys more pain. They’d already had enough pain the past year to last them a lifetime. He wasn’t signing any of them up for any more. Once Kate understood that…well, Sam had no doubt she’d find some other family to “help.”

“Nah, Dad can handle that. Dad doesn’t want her staying here cause he’s afraid we’ll fantasize about her,” Brad said.

It was, Sam thought, a little more complicated than that. Made more difficult by the callous pass he had used to try to scare Kate away. If his ploy had worked the way he had intended, he wouldn’t be dealing with Kate or her well-intentioned but unwanted meddling again. Unfortunately, it hadn’t worked, and now every time he looked at her they’d both be reminded of what he had done. And neither of them needed that.

Lewis, who at almost twelve had yet to discover girls, frowned and looked disgusted. He adjusted his glasses on the bridge of his nose. “Yuck. I would never fantasize about someone as old as Kate!”

“You say that now,” Brad replied with a smug wink, “but we haven’t seen her in her nightie, yet, either.”

Sam grimaced at just the thought. He watched as Kevin slid under the coffee table to play with his toy cars. “Kate Marten is not going to be running around here in her nightie,” he said firmly.

“We saw all our other housekeepers in their bathrobes,” Brad pointed out.