Country Bride. Debbie Macomber
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To hear Sally talk, anybody would think Kate had recently recovered from a bad case of the flu.
“Sally!” Kate exclaimed when she realized how avidly the other woman was waiting for her reply. “How am I supposed to answer that?” She covered her heart dramatically with one hand and assumed a look meant to portray misery and anguish. “Do you want me to tell you that my pride’s been shattered and I’ll never love again?”
Sally shook her head. “I wouldn’t believe it, anyway.”
“Then why ask?” Linda prompted.
“Well, because we all love Kate. She’s such a dear, and she’s been through so much lately.”
“Thank you,” Kate said graciously, then returned her attention to the Thanksgiving project.
“Most of the fuss about you and Eric Wilson and Luke Rivers has died down now,” Sally assured her, as if this should lessen the embarrassment of that Friday night.
“I take it you haven’t talked to Eric lately?” Linda asked, surprising Kate with her sudden interest. There’d been plenty of opportunity to inquire about him, but Linda hadn’t done so until now.
“Talked to him?” Kate echoed with a short, derisive laugh. “I don’t even shop at the Safeway store for fear of running into him again.”
“I don’t think you need to worry,” Sally said blandly. “From what I hear, he’s avoiding you, too.”
Linda snickered softly. “No doubt. I’m sure Luke Rivers put quite a scare into him.”
“How do you mean?” Kate demanded, already angry with Luke.
“You don’t know?” Sally asked, her eyes sparkling with excitement.
“Know what?” Kate swung her gaze first to Linda, then to Sally. “Did Luke threaten him?” If he had, he was going to hear about it from her.
“I haven’t got the foggiest idea what Sally’s talking about,” Linda said quickly.
“I didn’t hear anything specific,” Sally confirmed sheepishly. “I thought maybe you...” The older teacher’s expression suggested that she hoped Kate would fill in the succulent details herself. “My dear, surely you understand that everyone in town is speculating about you and Luke,” she continued.
“Rumors have been floating around since Clay’s wedding,” Linda added.
“But Sally just finished telling me those were dying down,” Kate snapped, irritated with the entire discussion.
“The rumors aren’t about you and that Wilson fellow,” Sally rushed to explain. “As far as your one date with him is concerned, it’s history. He’s too smart to cross Luke.”
“I’m sure he is,” Kate said, anxious to quell the woman’s gossip. “Aren’t we about finished here, Linda?” she asked pointedly.
“Ah...yes.”
“Now folks are talking about seeing you and Luke together at Nellie’s last week, just before your father’s wedding, and there’ve been a few rumors flying about the two of you at Pastor Wilkins’s, too.”
As fast as her hands would co-operate, Kate gathered up their materials. Sally seemed to accept that she was about to lose her audience. If she’d come to pump Kate for information she’d just have to realize Kate wasn’t talking. Standing, Sally gave a deep sigh, clearly disappointed. She collected her purse and headed out the door, pausing to look back. “Frankly, I think Fred Garner’s carrying this thing about you and Luke a bit too far. I consider what he’s doing in poor taste.” With that, she left the room.
“Fred Garner?” Linda echoed after a stunned second. “What’s that old coot doing now?”
“Fred Garner owns the feed store,” Kate said in a puzzled voice.
“Yes, but what’s he got to do with anything?”
“Beats me.” Still, Kate couldn’t help wondering. Fred had seen them at the restaurant, and he’d been at the reception for her father and Dorothea. Although she hadn’t seen him on the porch when a number of guests had found her in Luke’s arms, she had very little doubt that he was there.
When Kate drove home an hour later, Luke was working in the yard. She climbed out of the car, took two steps toward him and halted abruptly. The lump in her throat was so large she could hardly swallow, let alone speak.
The trembling had started the minute she left Garner Feed and Supply. She’d dropped in at the store following Sally’s remark, and from then on everything had grown progressively worse. The way she felt right now, she could slam her bag over Luke’s head, or do something equally violent, and feel completely justified.
“Kate?” he asked, looking concerned. “What’s wrong?”
She knew her emotions were written on her face. She’d never been more scandalized in her life, which was saying a great deal, considering the fiasco with Eric Wilson.
In fact, the blow her dignity had been dealt by Luke Rivers during that incident paled in comparison with this latest outrage. There was only one thing for her to do. She’d have to move away from Nightingale.
“This is all your doing, isn’t it?” she demanded in a shaking voice. She held her head high, although it was a struggle to preserve her composure. Her pride was all she had left, and that was crumbling at her feet.
Luke advanced several steps toward her. “What are you talking about?”
She ground her fist into her hip. “I just got back from the feed store. Does that tell you anything?”
“No.”
“I’ll bet.”
He frowned. “Kate, I swear to you, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
She made a doubting noise that came out sounding and feeling like a sob. Yet he appeared so bewildered. She didn’t know how any man could cause her such life-shattering embarrassment and maintain that look of faithful integrity.
The tears wouldn’t be restrained any longer, and they fell from her eyes, running down her face. They felt cool against her flushed cheeks.
“Kate? What’s wrong?”
Kate turned and walked rapidly away from Luke rather than allow him to witness her loss of control. She hurried into the house and slumped in a chair, hiding her face in her hands as she battled the terrible urge to weep hysterically. The painful sensation in the pit of her stomach grew more intense every time she took a breath.
The door opened and she said, “Go away.”
“Kate?”
“Haven’t...you...done...enough?” Each word rolled from her tongue on the end of a hiccuping sob.
He knelt in front of her and wrapped his arms around her, holding her close, but she pushed him away, refusing the comfort he offered.
Kate’s shoulders still heaved. With an exasperated sigh, Luke got up. He stood back on his boot heels and buried his hands in his pockets. “All right, tell me about it.”
“Pastor...Wilkins...bet...twenty...dollars...on...December,” she told him between sobs. Her fingers curled into fists. “Even...Clay...put in a...wager.”
Seeing his name on that huge blackboard had hurt more than anything.
“Kate, I swear to you I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Furiously she wiped the tears from her face and tried to marshal her self-control enough to speak clearly. “The...feed store,” she managed.
“What about the feed store?”
“They’re taking bets—it’s a regular lottery,” she cried, all the more furious with