finger at her. “Her? An angel?”
Rosa paused. Kate could feel the housekeeper’s alarm. “Si.”
Vera threw her napkin on the table. “This whole dinner is preposterous. Why don’t you say something, Justus?”
He looked up. His blue eyes iced over. “Rosa is free to believe what she wishes.”
Vera’s mouth twisted. “You sit me at a table with your bastard and allow a crazy Mexican woman to spew garbage and say nothing. You have no respect for me. You don’t care about me.”
Vera started to rise.
“Sit down,” Kate said.
The older woman paused. “What did you say to me?”
“Sit down.” Kate pushed her chair back. “This is your table. I don’t belong at it. I don’t want to be here. The only thing that brought me here was justice. And I mean the word, not the man.”
Rosa drew back. “But you are a guest.”
“No, as Vera so accurately pointed out, I’m the bastard child. The one who has no place at this table. Let’s stop pretending anything different.”
“The hell you don’t,” Justus roared. He launched his spoon at the soup bowl. It clattered against the china and fell onto the tablecloth. “You are staying right there.”
He used his good arm to point to the chair Kate had pushed forward.
“And you—” he pointed to Vera “—are going to be polite to my daughter.”
Vera blanched but hesitated. “I don’t march to your drum, Justus Mitchell. You may control everyone else. But not me.”
He leveled her with his eyes. Kate watched as the woman visibly weakened under the duress of his stare. “Sit. Please.”
Vera sank onto the upholstered chair.
Kate held on to the back of the chair. All she wanted to do was get out of here. She wondered if Rick would come get her. She didn’t know where he was. Didn’t have a number for him. Then she recognized where her thoughts were taking her. Did she really want a knight in red Mustang to swoop in and save her?
Hell, no.
She could handle it herself.
Vera spoke first. “Kate, please. I’ve forgotten my manners. Rosa has prepared a special meal. Surely we can put our feelings aside to enjoy something so generously wrought?”
Kate nodded. What else could she do? She hadn’t eaten all day and had no way of leaving Cottonwood, save phoning Nellie. All she had to do was get through dinner. Besides, she didn’t want to hurt Rosa’s feelings.
Rick’s grandmother pretended that Vera hadn’t insulted her and handed Kate the napkin that had fallen to the floor and lifted her wineglass to refill it.
“No, thank you, Rosa.” Kate rose. But not to leave. Instead she headed for the elegant sideboard holding assorted crystal decanters. She reached for a tumbler and a bottle of Scotch. She’d get through dinner with the help of Islay malt.
The first sip burned a path to her stomach. She nodded and returned to her seat. With a glint of approval in his eye, Justus lifted his own tumbler in her direction.
The approval made her wish she’d stuck with the cabernet.
Vera ignored him and placed her discarded napkin in her lap. She picked up the plate of corn cakes and passed them to Kate. “I’d love to hear about your salon. What is the name?”
Kate blinked. So they were going to pretend nothing had been said. Pretend she’d not just been called a bastard. She looked at Rosa as she lifted the stained towel from the table. The housekeeper shrugged. “Oh, um, it’s called Fantabulous.”
Vera passed her the container of tortillas. “Well, that’s an unusual name. How did you come up with it?”
Kate took a tortilla and slathered it with verde sauce. “My partner came up with it. We didn’t want a salon that played ‘loons at daybreak.’ We made it high energy. More Red Bull than green tea, if you know what I mean.”
Even as Kate made polite conversation, she could feel the tension in the air. It was so thick that if an imaginary finger poked it, they’d all tumble to the side from the power of the explosion. But
Rosa paused. Kate could feel the housekeeper’s alarm. “Si.”
Vera threw her napkin on the table. “This whole dinner is preposterous. Why don’t you say something, Justus?”
He looked up. His blue eyes iced over. “Rosa is free to believe what she wishes.”
Vera’s mouth twisted. “You sit me at a table with your bastard and allow a crazy Mexican woman to spew garbage and say nothing. You have no respect for me. You don’t care about me.”
Vera started to rise.
“Sit down,” Kate said.
The older woman paused. “What did you say to me?”
“Sit down.” Kate pushed her chair back. “This is your table. I don’t belong at it. I don’t want to be here. The only thing that brought me here was justice. And I mean the word, not the man.”
Rosa drew back. “But you are a guest.”
“No, as Vera so accurately pointed out, I’m the bastard child. The one who has no place at this table. Let’s stop pretending anything different.”
“The hell you don’t,” Justus roared. He launched his spoon at the soup bowl. It clattered against the china and fell onto the tablecloth. “You are staying right there.”
He used his good arm to point to the chair Kate had pushed forward.
“And you—” he pointed to Vera “—are going to be polite to my daughter.”
Vera blanched but hesitated. “I don’t march to your drum, Justus Mitchell. You may control everyone else. But not me.”
He leveled her with his eyes. Kate watched as the woman visibly weakened under the duress of his stare. “Sit. Please.”
Vera sank onto the upholstered chair.
Kate held on to the back of the chair. All she wanted to do was get out of here. She wondered if Rick would come get her. She didn’t know where he was. Didn’t have a number for him. Then she recognized where her thoughts were taking her. Did she really want a knight in red Mustang to swoop in and save her?
Hell, no.
She could handle it herself.
Vera spoke first. “Kate, please. I’ve forgotten my manners. Rosa has prepared a special meal. Surely we can put our feelings aside to enjoy something so generously wrought?”
Kate nodded. What else could she do? She hadn’t eaten all day and had no way of leaving Cottonwood, save phoning Nellie. All she had to do was get through dinner. Besides, she didn’t want to hurt Rosa’s feelings.
Rick’s grandmother pretended that Vera hadn’t insulted her and handed Kate the napkin that had fallen to the floor and lifted her wineglass to refill it.
“No, thank you, Rosa.” Kate rose. But not to leave. Instead she headed for the elegant sideboard holding assorted crystal decanters. She reached for a tumbler and a bottle of Scotch. She’d get through dinner with the help of Islay malt.
The first sip burned a path to her stomach. She nodded and returned to her seat. With a glint of approval in his eye, Justus lifted his own tumbler in her direction.
The approval made her wish she’d stuck with the cabernet.
Vera ignored him and placed her discarded napkin in her lap. She picked up the plate of corn cakes and passed them to Kate. “I’d love to hear about your salon. What is the name?”
Kate blinked. So they were going to pretend nothing had been said. Pretend she’d not just been called a bastard. She looked at Rosa as she lifted the stained towel from the table. The housekeeper shrugged. “Oh, um, it’s called Fantabulous.”
Vera passed her the container of tortillas. “Well, that’s an unusual name. How did you come up with it?”
Kate took a tortilla and slathered it with verde sauce. “My partner came up with it. We didn’t want a salon that played ‘loons at daybreak.’ We made it high energy. More Red Bull than green tea, if you know what I mean.”
Even as Kate made polite conversation, she could feel the tension in the air. It was so thick that if an imaginary finger poked it, they’d all tumble to the side from the power of the explosion. But
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