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Not that he could forget much about Katie Kinkaid. As the two women drifted back into the ballroom, Luke leaned against the rail and glared down at the darkened ravine. Lights from the hotel reflected on the tumbling water of the creek, and he thought he saw a lone man, a black figure, slip behind a thick copse of trees.
The hairs on the back of his neck lifted in warning, even though he told himself that he’d imagined the shadow, or, if there really was someone hiding in the undergrowth, it was probably just some kid sneaking booze from the reception or stealing away from his parents’ wary eyes. L
uke squinted hard into the darkness and strained to hear a sound—a snapping twig or muttered oath or anything to convince himself that he hadn’t imagined it.
Watch it, Gates, you’re getting paranoid. Still, he studied the night-darkened banks of the creek. The suspicious part of his mind considered vaulting over the rail and following his instincts, tailing whoever it was and finding out if he was up to no good.
“I thought I saw you sneak in.” Katie’s voice startled him.
Luke glanced quickly over his shoulder. She was standing only inches from him, her tiny, flushed face angled up to look at him. Her green eyes sparkled, and he wondered if she wasn’t the most intriguing woman in the universe.
“I suspected that you might decide to put in an appearance after all.” Her lips curved into a smile of silent amusement, as if she could read his mind and found his thoughts laughable.
“I think you invited me,” he replied, turning and placing his body between hers and the stranger in the shadows—if there was one. A thin sheen of perspiration added an alluring glow to her skin, which was already smooth as silk.
“That I did,” she said flirtatiously, and Luke remembered seeing her in another man’s arms, how at-home she’d seemed, how lighthearted and free. She interrupted his thoughts when she asked, “So…how about a dance?”
He hadn’t been asked that particular question since high school. “I’m not much of a dancer.”
“That makes two of us. Come on.” As if she expected him to come up with some kind of excuse, she grabbed hold of his hand and pulled him into the warm room where couples were gliding around the dance floor. Rather than protest, he went with her into the ballroom. He felt safer inside even though there was probably no danger lurking in the gloomy shadows by the creek. It was just his imagination working overtime.
A song from the big-band era was playing. He’d heard the tune before, didn’t know its name and didn’t have time to speculate. Katie fell into his arms as naturally as if she’d been born there. She didn’t seem to mind that his dancing was limited. He hadn’t lied. He’d had a few dance lessons in physical education when he’d been about twelve and scared to death of the opposite sex; then he’d experimented a little in high school and at rare social events while he’d been married to Celia.
“See?” Katie said, looking up at him with eyes as green as a forest. “This isn’t so bad.”
“Could be worse,” he admitted and wondered why it felt so right to hold her.
“A lot worse.”
As if of their own accord, his arms tightened around her. She felt small, warm and pliant as she rested her head against his shoulder. Music and laughter swirled around them. The lights dimmed, and Luke’s heart pounded. He imagined kissing her again, melding his lips over hers and sliding his tongue between her teeth; imagined slipping his hands beneath her dress and how her skin would feel as he peeled the blue folds of silk from her body.
Tiffany and J.D. glided past. Tiffany’s head was thrown back, and she was laughing gaily, as if she had the world by its proverbial tail. In a glimmer she spied Katie and winked at her half sister, as if the two women shared a private joke.
“Mind if I cut in?” John Cawthorne’s voice surprised him. “I’m making a point of dancing with each of my daughters.” Luke stepped aside, ended up with Brynnie in his arms and watched as the father of the bride made a big display of dancing with his third daughter. He’d already had a turn with Bliss, who had seemed radiant in her father’s arms—as well as with Tiffany, who had danced stiffly, no smile upon her face. Now Katie fell into step with her newfound father as if she’d been a part of his family for years.
“He loves them, you know. Each one,” Brynnie said as she and Luke paused for a glass of champagne. “All the hard feelings that existed between the girls and him, well, let me tell you, it’s taken its toll. Trying to put this scrappy family together has been hard on him.”
“And on his daughters,” Luke added.
“Oh, my, yes. Even Katie.” Brynnie sipped slowly. Her face was flushed, and her fading red hair, precariously curled on to the top of her head, was starting to fall. “Here, would you mind holding this?” She handed him her glass, extracted a bobby pin from her crown and held it between her lips as she expertly tucked the falling loops of hair into place again. “There we go.” She pushed the bobby pin to the spot where it belonged, securing her tresses, then took her glass from him. “What I wouldn’t do for a smoke,” she admitted, “but I’m trying to quit, what with John’s condition and all. I suppose you know that he had himself a heart attack.”
“I’d heard,” Luke admitted, still watching John and Katie move easily around the dance floor.
“That’s what started all this—him and me getting together and his obsession with making us all one big happy family.” She glanced up at Luke. “I’m not a gambling woman, but I’d bet my life that our family’s a little bit like Humpty-Dumpty—darned near impossible to put together. At least, not as fast as he’d like it to. Emotions take time to heal… Oh, listen to me. This is a wedding, for goodness’ sake, and here I am gettin’ maudlin.” She blinked rapidly, sniffed and swept a beringed finger under her eyes. “It’s so silly. I guess I just want John to be happy.”
“He looks like he is,” Luke observed as the music ended. Katie looped her arm through the crook of her father’s elbow, and they maneuvered through the knots of people clustered around the ballroom floor.
“I hope so,” she said fervently as John and Katie approached. John and Brynnie moved off.
“So, what did Mom tell you?” Katie asked. “I saw you two with your heads together.”
“She was just giving me some background on the family.”
“Such as?” she asked as his arms surrounded her again.
“Your mother seems to think there’s no hope of bringing your family together.” He held her tight and got lost in the scent of her perfume.
“Maybe not, but I think it’s time to bury the hatchet and get on with our lives. Bliss is married now, has her own life with Mason and his daughter, Dee Dee—that’s her, dancing with her father.” She pointed to Mason and a girl of about nine or ten, he guessed, as they danced together. Dee Dee was embarrassed, but Mason swung her off her feet, and she couldn’t help but laugh. “Anyway, so Bliss is happy, and now Tiffany and J.D. are going to tie the knot, so why dwell on the past? Don’t get me wrong—John and Mom should never have carried on an affair while he was married. Though, come to think of it, if they hadn’t, I wouldn’t be here, would I?” She grinned, and the reflection of a thousand tiny bulbs in the chandelier overhead shone in her eyes.
