Cathy Thacker - Texas Vows - A McCabe Family Saga

Lewis came rushing in, her suitcase and laptop computer in tow. He set both down on the floor, then asked, “Did you need those boxes of wedding books and stuff, too?”

“I sure do.” Kate smiled and watched as he ran back outside.

Sam arched a brow in Kate’s direction. “I’m using my vacation to plan my wedding,” Kate explained as they headed back into the kitchen.

He lounged against the counter and folded his arms in front of him. “When’s the date?”

“Sometime in the fall or maybe over the Thanksgiving or Christmas holidays. Craig and I haven’t actually set a date yet.”

His brows drew together in a frown. “Why not?”

Kate flushed, feeling abruptly self-conscious as she met Sam’s eyes. “It’s not that easy,” she said, wishing Sam suddenly didn’t sound so much like her parents. “Craig has to get permission from his superiors to take time off.”

“So why hasn’t he already done that?” Sam prodded, difficult as ever. “Given the fact you’ve been engaged for…what?” he asked impatiently.

“Three years now,” Kate said, beginning to feel a little bit defensive despite herself. “And it’s complicated.”

Sam shrugged. He obviously didn’t think so. “Seems to me if you and Craig really wanted to do this, nothing, not even the U.S. military, would stand in the way.”

“Thanks for the insight,” Kate said, annoyed he had so quickly and easily gotten under her skin.

“Any time.” Sam shrugged.

“And for your information,” Kate continued, “we’re going to set a date when Craig comes home on leave the weekend after next.” She paused, knowing now was as good a time as any to inform Sam of her plans. “I’m going to need that time off, by the way, if you still haven’t found someone suitable to care for the boys.”

“I’ll have found someone by then,” Sam vowed flatly. He sent her a hard, warning look. “In the meantime, I meant what I said, you’re here as a temporary household manager and baby-sitter and that’s all.”

Back to that again. “I promise I won’t run any group therapy sessions,” Kate said dryly. She wouldn’t promise she wouldn’t be available to listen, if either Sam or his boys decided they wanted to talk.

Sam regarded her sternly. “Just so we understand each other.”

“Oh, we do,” Kate replied. Maybe more than you’d like, Sam McCabe.

A tense silence fell between them. Sam turned and started to head out. “I’ll be in my study, working,” he said over his shoulder.

“Wait just a minute.” Kate hurried ahead and inserted herself between him and the doorway. “I’m going to need your help as well as the boys’, Sam.”

Sam looked at her suspiciously.

“Whether you’re paying me or not, you shouldn’t expect me to clean this up alone,” she said practically. “All six of you made this mess. All six of you should help clean it up.”

Sam’s shoulders tensed. Kate knew what he was thinking: she’d been here five minutes and already they were arguing about where the lines should be drawn. Nostrils flaring, he leaned toward her in a deliberately intimidating manner. “Let’s get something straight. I don’t do housework, and I don’t run interference between you and my boys.”

“You mean, you won’t back me up on this,” she surmised, not giving an inch despite the way he was physically crowding her, and pushing her back out of the doorway.

Sam shrugged, letting her know it wasn’t too soon for her to see how things were going to be. “You wanted to run the show around here. Now’s your chance.” Brushing past her, he stalked off.

KNOWING WHAT SHE DID in her first few minutes on the job would set the tone for her entire stay in the McCabe household, Kate gathered the boys into the kitchen for a meeting. While they listened with varying degrees of attention, she explained what she had planned.

“There’s only one problem with that,” Will announced as soon as Kate had concluded, looking more than a bit surly as he worked with two hand-held weights. “As I mentioned earlier, I’ve already got plans for the evening.”

“So do I,” Brad interjected, then resumed talking on the phone.

Wordlessly, Kate reached over and took the receiver from Brad’s hand. “He’ll call you back after he’s finished his chores,” she said into the receiver, then cut the connection.

Brad’s mouth gaped open. “Hey! You can’t do that!”

Riley grinned, enjoying his brother’s discomfiture. “Looks like she just did.”

Will looked at the list of chores Kate had scribbled. “I don’t do bathrooms—ever!” he said with a scowl.

“Don’t look at me. I’m not scrubbing anything!” Brad said.

“Then that’s too bad,” Kate said as she cut the jobs into little slips of paper and put them into the newly christened Job Jar in the center of the table. She folded her hands in front of her calmly. “Because none of you will be getting out of here anytime soon.”

It was time this group started behaving like a family, Kate had decided. And the first order of building a team was to identify and then embrace collective responsibility. Then to work together to make things happen. Without either of those things, there could be no real caring for each other or pride in or acknowledgment of all they still had in the wake of Ellie’s death, which, whether they realized it or not, was plenty.

All four older boys exchanged anxious looks. “What are you talking about?” Will demanded.

“As long as I’m in charge here, the rule is, you do your chores before you go anywhere. So each of you four older boys pick two tasks and get busy. Meantime, I’ll get supper going. And Kev here can help by picking up all his toys and putting them away and setting the table.”

As Kate opened the refrigerator door to see what was on hand, she could feel the McCabe boys’ eyes staring at her as if she’d grown two heads. She perused the shelves crammed with junk food and wilting produce and forced herself to not think about how much easier this would have been if Sam had been in here with her, pitching in, too, and setting a good example for his kids.

He wouldn’t be here during the day tomorrow, anyway, so they might as well get used to listening to her now—while he was still on the premises to witness her success at handling them. Because if this was a test, from both him and his boys, she was determined to pass it. She turned around and smiled at them, using the same matter-of-fact tone of voice she’d heard her father use with his football teams countless times. “You heard me, guys. Get moving.”

ALL THREE OLDER BOYS—having completed their chores in the most unhelpful manner possible—stared at the platters of hot dogs, macaroni and cheese, baked beans and cut-up fruit Kate had put on the kitchen table. “You’ve got to be kidding,” Riley said.

“This is kid food,” Will scowled. At seventeen, he did not see himself as a kid. “I don’t see any hot dog buns,” Brad complained.

“There aren’t any,” Kate told them, not about to apologize for the meal she’d put together.

“Well, I can’t eat a hot dog without a bun,” Brad announced grimly.

“We have bread,” Kate offered. It had been stale but not moldy and she had freshened it as much as she could by warming it in the microwave.

“Bread is not the same as buns!” Brad pushed back his chair with a screech.

“Mom made her mac-n-cheese from scratch.” Riley scowled and pushed the bright orange pasta around with the tines of his fork.

So did Kate, when she had the resources. Since she hadn’t, she’d used the mix in the pantry.

Riley frowned and held his nose. “Did somebody put onions in the baked beans?”