Ten-Gallon Tensions in Texas: A Kate on Vacation Mystery (The Kate on Vacation Mysteries Book 3) Read Free Page B

mother’s chair. Leaning down, she wrapped her arms around the woman’s broad shoulders from behind. “Thanks, Mama, for watching the kids.”
    The older woman made a scoffing noise in her throat. “Ain’t exactly a hardship.”
    ~~~~~~~~
    Skip stood just inside the community center’s entranceway, a woman on each arm, and watched Sam Beauford saunter in their direction. He was a big man, tall and broad, the star of the football team back in high school. But now the muscle had turned mostly to fat and his paunch threatened to bust loose the buttons on his fancy embroidered Western shirt.
    “Well if it isn’t Skippy Canfield,” he said in a mock jolly voice.
    “Hey, Sam.” Skip steered his sister and wife around him.
    He followed them to their table. “First time I’ve seen you back in town in a long time, Canfield.”
    Skip didn’t respond. He’d been back to visit, but he’d always managed to avoid his old nemesis, until now. He pulled a chair out for Kate, as his sister rounded the end of the table to sit opposite them.
    “Now who’s this you got here, Canfield?” Beauford edged out a chair to sit down beside her.
    Skip grabbed the back of the chair and jammed it firmly against the side of the table. “We’re expecting somebody else soon.”
    Beauford raised his eyebrows at him, but he let go of the chair. “You didn’t answer my question, Skippy .”
    Skip inserted his body between Kate’s chair and Beauford. “This is my wife.” He didn’t offer her name. It was a territorial declaration, not an introduction.
    A soft chortle from his right. Skip turned his head slightly. Willy Carlton, one of Beauford’s sidekicks from high school, stood a few feet away. He was also headed toward flab city.
    “How’d you snare her?” Carlton said. “She’s way too pretty for your ugly ass.”
    Skip sensed Kate stiffen in the chair behind him.
    Enough.
    He took a step toward Carlton, towering over him. Carlton stepped back.
    “Gentlemen,” Skip said in a low voice with an edge of steel to it, “I suggest you go hang out with people who actually want you around.”
    Both men froze, stared at him for a beat.
    Then Beauford reached over and nudged his shoulder with a hammy fist. “Sure, Skippy. Good seein’ ya again.”
    With effort, Skip kept his clenched fists at his side.
    Beauford turned and swaggered off, Willy Carlton in his wake.
    Skip rolled his shoulders to ease the tension, then went to the cash bar to get wine for the ladies and a beer for himself. While the bartender poured, Skip faced the room, leaning back on his elbows against the bar. He watched Beauford through narrowed eyes. The man was laughing heartily at something one of the forty-something adolescents surrounding him had just said.
    Why did I ever think I’d be able to relax and have a good time here?
    The bartender tapped his arm. “That’s fifteen-eighty.” Skip gave him a twenty and gestured toward the tip jar. He gathered the drinks into a triangle between his hands and carried them to their table.
    Once settled there, he took a swig of his beer. His sister sipped her wine and looked around, trying to act like she was enjoying herself.
    Skip’s eyes wandered back to Beauford who was now slow dancing with a woman whom Skip didn’t recognize. Beauford’s hand slipped down her back and onto her butt. She reached around and firmly moved it up again.
    Skip shook his head slightly and took another sip of beer.
    Kate leaned over and whispered, “Has anybody ever bothered to tell that jerk that he’s a walking, talking caricature?”
    Skip snorted, inhaling beer. He coughed, spewing liquid onto the tablecloth. He grabbed a cocktail napkin and swiped at the mess.
    Kate chuckled softly.
    “Thank you, darlin’,” he said out of the corner of his mouth. Amusement bubbled in his chest. He felt light and confident for the first time since lunch.
    With a small smile on her face, Kate sipped her wine. She scanned the crowd.
    He snaked