Truman Page 2

  “What about me?”

  “What do you do for a living?”

  Katie wrinkled her nose. She didn’t want to tell him the truth. It was so predictable. Shy bookworm becomes the book-loving librarian. She longed to tell him she was something thrilling, a spy or a private eye. “I’m a librarian at the Rascal Public Library.”

  “You always did have your nose stuck in a book.” He chuckled. “I remember you sitting up in that Chinaberry tree in your parents’ backyard reading for hours on end.”

  Gosh, she sounded boring. “I’m considering changing professions,” she blurted.

  “Oh? To what?”

  “I love criminal justice.”

  “You’re thinking about becoming a cop?”

  “Yeah. It’s silly, I know.” Katie twisted her fingers in knots.

  “I could see you in a lab. CSI Katie analyzing evidence.”

  “I’m not talking about the lab. I’m talking about being a detective.”

  “Oh.” He sounded surprised. “You’d be in for a lot of hard work, but you could do it if you wanted.”

  “Oh, I expect it will be hard work,” Katie said. “I’m not afraid to roll up my sleeves.”

  “I’m a detective,” he said.

  “Huh? Since when do detectives ride horses?”

  “I’m on temporary assignment here. Normally, I work for the sheriff’s department which oversees the Rascal PD. Because I’m a horseman, Sheriff Forrester asked me to help out the RPD as a mounted police for a few weeks until we get a handle on this rash of muggings. Normally, I work bunko for Presidio County.”

  “Bunko? That’s fraud, right?”

  He nodded.

  “Swindlers, confidence men, Ponzi schemes, things like that?”

  “You know the terminology.” He sounded entertained.

  “There are a few advantages to keeping my nose stuck in a book.”

  “I imagine that’s true. But these days the fraud division is as much about telemarketing and internet scams as anything else. I spend a lot of time online.”

  “I didn’t know the county had an entire fraud division.”

  “We don’t. It’s just me.”

  “Thanks for the ride,” Katie mumbled, not knowing what else to say to the man who had once dominated her teenage fantasies.

  “No problem. It’s the least I can do since I couldn’t get your purse back.”

  Truman’s warm breath tickled the back of her neck, fanning the tendrils of hair that had escaped from her French braid. She couldn’t stop herself from sneaking furtive glances at the corded muscles in his forearms that bunched as he guided the horse up a slight incline.

  Heavens, Katie, you’ve got to stop this. But no matter how hard she tried, Katie couldn’t slow her rapid pulse or stop her legs from quivering. Truman’s hot bod tempted her, but it would be senseless to act on her impulses.

  Coward. The accusation was pure Tess.

  But what if she made a move, and he wasn’t interested?

  You’ll never know unless you try.

  She’d had enough of throwing herself at him and being rebuffed.

  That was years ago. Long before you lost weight and got over being shy.

  Glancing around for something to distract her, Katie noticed that the cactus flowers were in full, glorious bloom. Jenny had picked a beautiful location for her wedding. Roses of every shade and hue scented the air with their sweet intense aroma. Irises—yellow, white, purple, and scarlet—swayed in the breeze. Tulips, daffodils, and gladioli reached for the sun. Honeysuckle and wisteria vines twined along elaborate lattices, while delicate posies, forget-me-nots, and impatiens flourished in the sheltering shade of willow trees.

  They crossed a footbridge. The horse’s hooves clopped a steady rhythm matching the heavy pounding in Katie’s chest. The setting was strangely surreal, as if she’d entered a fairy-tale land and was riding through a magical forest with her Prince Charming. Except she wasn’t Cinderella, and Truman was simply doing her a favor—but, oh was she enjoying it while it lasted.

  A few minutes later, they crested the hill to see the arboretum nestled below. The wedding planner had transformed a tree-shaded gazebo into an altar with large white wedding bells gracing each corner. The coordinator’s team had set up padded folding chairs draped with pastel green seat covers in uniform rows. Friends and family dressed in brightly colored finery congregated in clumps, obviously at loose ends.

  Waiting on her.

  Remorse needled Katie, pricking at her conscience. She’d held up the wedding and glitched what should have been a perfect day for her little sister.

  Anxiously, she chewed on her bottom lip but stopped herself before she ruined her makeup job on top of everything else. No matter how hard she tried not to make waves, she seemed to have an uncanny knack for getting into trouble.

  As she and Truman rode down the hill, Katie saw her parents break away from the group and walk toward them. Truman reined in the Appaloosa just short of the event seating and the throng of guests.

  Truman dismounted, and Katie felt a wisp of sadness. She’d enjoyed being cradled between those fabulous forearms, her back protected by his broad chest.

  Her father’s arm latched on to her mother’s elbow, while her mother worried her pearl necklace with one hand.

  “Katie! What are you doing on that horse?” Grace Prentiss looked horrified.

  Truman tipped his Stetson in greeting to her mother and extended a hand to her father. “I’m afraid to report that Katie was the victim of a purse snatcher. Unfortunately, I couldn’t catch the perpetrator.”

  “Well, I’m glad you were there to take care of our girl, Officer,” Roger Prentiss replied, shaking Truman’s hand and obviously not recognizing him.

  “A mugger! Oh, my! And we just thought she was late as usual. Katie, honey, are you all right?” When her mother worried, she lapsed into the deep Southern drawl of her Georgia girlhood.

  “Do we know you?” Her father scrutinized Truman’s face.

  “Yes, sir. I used to live next door to you folks. I’m Truman West.”

  “Why, you are young Truman all grown up, aren’t you? It’s wonderful to see you.” Her mother stood on tiptoes to pat his shoulder.

  Katie cleared her throat and shifted in the saddle. “Sorry to interrupt, but could somebody help me down? Please?”

  Truman turned to her. She liked the way he looked, with his mirthful eyes and that irresistible dimple carved in his right cheek. He could smile at her any day of the week. “My pleasure.”

  Katie held her breath against the sensations humming within her body. When her feet touched the ground and Truman released her, she felt so mixed up she couldn’t meet his gaze. Avoiding his eyes, she busied herself smoothing wrinkles from her dress.

  “What’s up?” Jenny asked breathlessly, joining the group.

  Grateful for the distraction, Katie turned to her younger sister.

  Jenny held the skirt of her wedding gown in both hands and looked radiant despite the frown wrinkling her brow.

  “Katie got mugged,” her mother said.

  “Oh, Katie! Are you all right?”

  “I’m fine,” Katie groused. “But that stupid purse snatcher got off with my keys, cell phone, ID, and credit cards.”

  “That reminds me,” Truman said, “I need get your official statement, Katie.”

  “You remember Truman, don’t you, Jenny?” Katie asked. “He rescued me.”

  Jenny took one look at Truman, and her eyes grew wide. “Who could forget Truman? Katie mooned over you for two years. She’d stare out our bedroom window for hours, waiting for you to come outside so she could drool over you.”

  Truman cut his eyes at Katie. “She did, huh?”

  Embarrassed, Katie grabbed Jenny by the hand. “Mark and the preacher are waiting. We don’t have time to discuss ancient history.”

  “Yes,” their father agreed, attempting to herd everyone in the altar’s direction. “Le
t’s get this show on the road.”

  Jenny balked. “Wait just a minute. I want to invite Truman to the reception. Can you come? Or are you still on duty?”

  Truman consulted his watch. “I’m off the clock in an hour.”

  “That’s great! The reception’s at five at the Rascal Country Club. It’s okay to come in your uniform. You can get Katie’s statement then.”

  “An excellent idea,” Truman said. “See you all there.” He raised a hand, got on his horse and rode away.

  2

  The wedding coordinator hustled over and shooed Jenny, Katie, and the three other bridesmaids into the striped cabana next to the arboretum. Lilting music from the string quartet perched on the dais behind the altar soothed the restless audience with a medley of low-key love songs.

  Katie felt guilty for the delay. She’d come close to ruining the happiest day of Jenny’s life, and she deserved a swift kick in the pants.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered to Jenny. “I didn’t mean to cause such trouble.”

  “Don’t be silly. You couldn’t help having your purse snatched,” Jenny said, generous as always.

  In minutes, the wedding coordinator had everything back on course. Ushers seated the guests while the groom’s sister lit a dozen peach-scented candles nestled in the elaborate candelabra at the altar. The coordinator handed each of the bridesmaids a bouquet of peach-colored orchids surrounded by a spray of fresh daisies.

  The wedding march began.

  The first bridesmaid left the cabana and strolled to the altar.

  With tears in her eyes, Katie turned to squeeze Jenny’s hand. Dressed in chiffon and lace, her baby sister looked like a fairy-tale princess.

  Jenny’s blue eyes shone with a brilliant inner serenity that left Katie a smidge jealous. Irritated with herself, she shoved the emotion aside. Why should she be jealous? She had plenty of time to find Mr. Right. No rush. In fact, running into Mr. Right at this point in her life would be poor timing when she was planning on going back to school to study criminal justice.

  “Hey, kid, you’re about to become Mrs. Mark Barrington, and I will miss you...” A lump of emotion choked off the rest of Katie’s sentiment.

  Jenny’s bottom lip trembled. “I’m just getting married and moving to Houston, not Mars.”

  “Things won’t ever be the same.”

  “I know. Oh, Katie, don’t cry, or I’ll bawl, too.”

  “What’s there to cry about?” Katie choked back her sniffles.

  Her sister smiled and wiped at her eyes. “I’m so happy. I love Mark so much.”

  What would it be like to find the man meant for her? To know with a deep, abiding certainty her husband cherished and cared for her. Katie shivered and watched the second bridesmaid start down the aisle.

  She thought of Truman. He would be at the reception. A thrill raced through her at spending more time with him, but the willy-nilly sensation also worried her. Ten years ago, as a gawky fifteen-year-old, she’d thought herself deeply in love with Truman. He’d been her teen idol, and she’d made a complete idiot of herself over him. Except, thank heavens, he didn’t seem to remember the most humiliating moment of her entire life.

  Katie shook her head, dispelling the memory, trying to concentrate on the ceremony, but she couldn’t stop the shameful incident from washing over her. Painfully, she recalled the day when outcast, overweight, freshman Katie Prentiss had dared to write the popular, athletic, senior Truman West a love letter.

  It had been a private letter, meant for her eyes only. An intensely personal letter, spelling out Katie’s dreams about Truman and her hopes of their future together. The letter had fallen out of her notebook unnoticed in the hallway, and the next thing she knew, it was circulating throughout her homeroom class.

  Even now, the memory caused hot rings of shame to scald her cheeks. Katie had wanted to crawl into a hole and die. She’d run crying from the school, but her mother had made her go back, telling her to hold her head high. Facing her derisive classmates had been the ultimate humiliation.

  The third bridesmaid arrived at the altar.

  It was her turn.

  Katie paused, took a deep breath, and started her own journey down the cobblestone pathway as they’d rehearsed the day before.

  Despite the beauty around her and the magic of the moment, she couldn’t stop thinking about that awful day in high school. The mocking hoots that followed her down the school corridor still echoed in her memory.

  Someone, she suspected Rhonda McKnight, had made a photocopy of the letter and taped it to Katie’s locker door. Girls laughed. Boys teased. Mortified, Katie withdrew, hiding in the library.

  Think about today. Think about Jenny. Forget the past. You’re not that love-struck girl anymore.

  It didn’t matter. She was thin now. She had a master’s degree in library science. Her life might not be as exciting as her favorite literary character, Tess Dupree, but Katie was working on that too and she was happy with the person she was becoming. Those old wounds were almost healed.

  Truman had been kind about the love letter incident. Too kind. His sweetness had made her love him all the more. Even as she’d written the letter, she’d known her love for him was an irrational fantasy. A hot, popular guy like Truman could never love an overweight, unattractive little nobody like her.

  He had approached her in the school cafeteria where she’d been sitting alone, bereft and forlorn. She noticed his friends standing in the corner, snickering and poking each other in the ribs with their elbows.

  “May I sit down?” he’d asked.

  She could still feel the heaviness in her chest as she clenched her fists in her lap and stared down at her double helping of meat loaf.

  “I’m really flattered that you like me,” he began, settling into the chair next to her.

  Katie’s pulse galloped so fast, she thought she’d have a heart attack. She’d pushed her glasses up on her nose and kept her gaze downcast, unable to speak a word.

  “I know you’ve been taking a lot of heat from everyone about that letter you wrote me,” he’d continued.

  Tears burned at her eyelids, and she’d bit her lip to keep from breaking down.

  “I don’t want you to feel badly about this, Katie.”

  Truman’s nearness was pure torture, his tenderness a stake through her heart. She said nothing.

  “You’re smart and funny. You’ll find the right guy, but I’m in love with Rhonda.”

  “I know,” she whispered, her stomach roiling.

  Then he’d leaned over and kissed her gently on the cheek. “You’re a special girl, Katie Prentiss, never forget that. You will wow us all someday.”

  And that day had finally arrived, Katie thought proudly as she took her place beside the other bridesmaids. She was so different from the old Katie. She’d changed drastically, and with Tess Dupree for inspiration, she was growing more assertive every day.

  Hitching in a sigh, she turned to watch Jenny walk down the aisle and caught sight of her parents in the crowd. Her father beamed, and her mother dabbed her eyes with a tissue.

  Mark Barrington waited beside the minister, the loving light in his eyes matching the glow on Jenny’s face. Her sister had found her life’s partner, and although Katie was happy for Jenny, she couldn’t help but wonder if she would ever find Mr. Right.

  Maybe marriage wasn’t in the cards for her. Maybe she would become a single career woman. That was okay. She was used to being single.

  Jenny reached the altar, and the music stopped. The minister cleared his throat and began the sacred ritual of joining a man and a woman into husband and wife.

  Something shining in the distance captured Katie’s attention. She turned her head slightly and squinted, her fragrant bouquet clutched in her hand.

  There. Several yards away, hidden between the tree branches and in the shadow cast from Bush Mountain, she saw him.

  Truman perched on his horse, watching the wedding. An odd
sensation collected inside Katie. An emotion she couldn’t really name but that stirred her to the depths of her soul.

  Could it be true? After all these years, was she still secretly in love with Truman West?

  Truman stood in the reception hall’s doorway at the Rascal Country Club, his gaze sweeping the crowd for a glimpse of Katie.

  He stepped to one side, feeling out of his element in his black jeans and button-down western shirt, the guests decked out in expensive formal wear. Heck, he didn’t even own a presentable suit, much less a tuxedo.

  People lined the buffet tables. Waiters carried trays of chilled pink champagne through the crowd. In the background, a four-piece orchestra played soft strains of Mozart.

  Definitely classy stuff. In the ten years since he’d last seen the Prentisses, they’d prospered. If this wedding shindig was any sign, they were way out of his league financially.

  Truman walked past tables covered with white linen and loaded down with silver serving dishes. Tantalizing aromas caught his attention. Mounds of pink shrimp and chunks of cooked lobster lay nestled on crushed ice. Bowls of cocktail sauce and brightly colored toothpicks piled nearby invited sampling.

  The fare looked delicious, but Truman wasn’t interested in food. He had come for one reason—to get Katie’s statement about what had happened with the purse snatcher. That was all.

  Liar.

  Yeah, okay. Word. He found Katie’s transformation fascinating. She’d metamorphosed from a chubby little caterpillar into a heartbreakingly beautiful butterfly. Gone was the shy, awkward teenager he barely remembered, and in her place stood a poised, confident young woman with a sense of humor.

  She’d lost weight and shed her glasses and braces, but the changes in Katie were more than physical. She carried herself differently now—her head held high, her shoulders thrown back, her chin up. She had broken through the boundaries of low self-esteem and created a whole new self.

  Impressive.

  He palmed a handful of mixed nuts from a dish on the table and slid them into his mouth, his gaze roaming over the gathering as he dusted salt from his fingertips. Then he spotted her.