Debbi Rawlins - Texas Blaze

She’d get over the betrayal, since the Kate he remembered was too bright and sensible to let a man determine her worth. But it would take some time for the fog of pain to lift. In the meantime, the best thing he could do for her was be a friend.

“Mitch?” She was looking up at him, most of her face in shadow, but the slight tremor in her voice told him more than he could read in her eyes. “Are you going to kiss me?”

He should’ve let her go, he realized. Urged her to leave the minute he’d arrived home. She’d be safely tucked away in her own bed right now, asleep, after having indulged in a cathartic crying jag. Then, tomorrow she could get on with the grieving process. Leave it to him to mess up everything.

Mitch kissed the tip of her nose, and then each eyelid.

He lowered his hand from her chin. “Get some rest, Kate,” he said, before extricating his arm from beneath her shoulders. It wasn’t easy but he rolled over, giving her his back and letting one arm dangle off the bed.

Best thing for everyone concerned was for him to stay the hell away from Kate Manning.

MITCH WAS STRETCHED OUT on the hardwood floor beside the bed when she woke. His pillow was beneath his head but he had no sheet or anything else to keep him comfortable. Kate winced, but there would be time later for kicking herself for being so self-centered. The muted dawn light coming through the window told her she had to get home fast. Never mind the embarrassment of facing Mitch in the light of day, her girlfriends would be leaving for the Houston airport soon.

Carefully, she crawled to the foot of the bed where she could avoid stepping on him. Suddenly, she remembered the pink tote—it held her clothes and it was sitting on the floor near the door. She tiptoed toward the bag, snatched it up and kept walking until she reached the bathroom. For all she knew, she’d awoken him, but she hadn’t dared turn around. It wasn’t even so much the skimpy black teddy barely covering her bottom that had her anxious to disappear, although that would probably haunt her later. It was the idea that she’d for even a mere second thought she could find comfort, or worse, validation in Mitch Colter’s arms.

She slipped quietly into the bathroom and changed in record time, her skin clammy with the residual effects of a bad dream. The kind you wake up to and feel intense relief that the events hadn’t been real. She should have reconsidered before coming here. The tequila couldn’t be blamed for her poor judgment because she hadn’t touched a drop. Yet her reckless actions had been atrociously akin to the time when one of the cowhands had come off a bender and deemed it smart to climb on a newly acquired wild mustang. He’d ended up breaking an arm and a leg. Maybe she should consider herself lucky. Then again, she might prefer broken bones to her shattered pride.

Fortunately, she made it out of Mitch’s house, and back to the Sugarloaf without incident. Several men were out near the barn doing their morning chores, but the house was quiet, even the kitchen. Kate had given their housekeeper the week off after all the extra work she’d done for the party, so Kate started the coffee and then hurried upstairs to get out of last night’s clothes and grab a shower.

The place was eerily quiet. Normally Joe and Clint would have been up already, eating a quick breakfast and slurping down coffee before they went outside to work. But Kate hadn’t expected them to lapse into routine this morning. Not after hooking up with two of her friends over the weekend. Even Jessica, her third college roommate, had found an unlikely connection with Ben, a friend of the Manning family. How ironic that the three of them had come all the way to Texas to help her celebrate her engagement and each ended up finding someone.

Kate hated that she was jealous. But Dennis had never once looked at her the way Joe had gazed yearningly at Lisa last night. And the glorious way Clint made Dory smile…

It was more than Kate could think about without wanting to crawl back into bed and pull the covers over her head. She hurried with a minimum of makeup, mostly to hide the dark circles under her eyes, leaving her hair to dry by itself. It would end up wavy and too wild but she didn’t care. After her friends left, she planned on hibernating for a week.

By the time she started downstairs, she still hadn’t decided what to tell her friends. She didn’t want their weekend to end on a bad note, yet they had to be wondering about what happened last night.

“Kate?”

She heard Dory’s voice just as she entered the hall to the kitchen. Kate pasted on a cheerful face and turned to her friend. Jessica was directly behind Dory, both of them wearing concerned frowns.

“Good morning,” Kate said brightly, and then burst into tears.

THE SUGARLOAF WAS BACK to normal. The tents were gone, the stage and booths already dismantled, only a few picnic tables and benches remained near the bunkhouse. Mitch had intended to help with the teardown and clean up, but he’d gotten up too late. He pulled his pickup off to the shoulder of the driveway and noticed Clint’s truck parked near the barn. Good. Mitch was hoping to catch either him or Joe, preferably both of them.

As he climbed out of his pickup, his gaze went toward the house. Kate’s small SUV was nowhere in sight but that didn’t mean she wasn’t home. She could have parked in the garage or on the other side of the house. He hoped it wouldn’t be awkward when they saw each other later. That she’d skipped out while he was still asleep wasn’t a total surprise, but he wished they could have talked first. He was totally okay with how last night had played out, but he had a feeling she wasn’t.

Pete, one of the cowhands who’d been working for the Mannings for as long as Mitch could remember, waved him toward the barn. The tempting smell of coffee coming from inside was enough incentive.

“Good to see you again, Mitch,” the old-timer said. “I thought I spotted you last night.”

“Yep, I got here late. Wish I could’ve made it for the rodeo.”

“Don’t know if you heard, but Ben didn’t ride yesterday. Got himself a spinal fracture and had to quit rodeoing. The doc said if he gets thrown one more time it could do him in.”

“I found out last night.” He’d felt badly about the news and looked for Ben. They’d known each other since kindergarten. “Too bad his career got cut short, but at least he had enough sense to call it quits.”

Nodding, Pete raised his mug. “I reckon you’re looking for Joe and Clint, but there’s a fresh pot of coffee brewing inside if you’ve got a mind to take a cup.”

“Come on, Pete. Have I ever turned down your coffee?”

The gray-haired man chuckled, and Mitch followed him inside, noticing the slight stoop to his shoulders and how he favored his right leg. The eight years since he’d last seen Pete hadn’t been kind to the older man. Mitch thought about his own father, trying to keep the ranch afloat with only two hired hands for help. Granted, he was a good ten years younger than Pete, but that knowledge didn’t dull the stab of guilt.

The inside of the barn had hardly changed. A large assortment of tack was neatly arranged on the left wall, dozens of bales of hay were stacked between the horse stalls and two rows of saddles. In the corner was a shed. That was new. Not so the smells. The musky scent of sweat mingled with leather and hay was as familiar as the packed dirt beneath his boots.

By the time Mitch filled a mug with the strong black brew that Pete was famous for, he heard Clint’s and Joe’s voices as they entered the barn. They both wore new jeans and Western-cut shirts, instead of the usual faded work Levi’s jeans and T-shirts. Joe looked as if he might even have polished his boots.