"Great!" I could hear her pleasure in her voice.
"Hey Cara?"
"Yeah?"
I glanced at the rooster clock once again. "Do any of the coffee shops have wifi?"
If I could whittle down my emails, then I'd feel better spending a few hours with Cara.
"There are two in town and I'm sure they have it. But I think they're both closed by now."
"It's four in the afternoon!" Shit. Shutting the fridge door with more force than necessary, I wondered how a coffee shop stayed in business with those hours.
"They open at five a.m. though."
Five. I could do five. I was on east coast time anyway and could get that brief emailed to my boss before he even arrived at the office. After that, I could get in a few hours of work before my meeting at ten.
"I'm hanging up now so you don't change your mind. The Barking Dog. Eight o'clock."
After putting the phone back on the base on the wall, I went over to the coffee maker and grabbed the pot to fill at the sink. Some people might survive on junk food. I survived on coffee.
CHAPTER THREE
CATHERINE
"Since you own the house, you should stay, or at least keep it and use it for vacations," Cara said as she stirred her straw around in her drink.
The Barking Dog was more brewpub than dive, with a wall of booths, high top tables and the original bar that had a mirror behind it and a brass rail. The owners had done a fantastic job of making it look like a Wild West saloon, but without the spittoons and poker tables.
I'd joined Cara and her husband, Mike, at one of the booths.
When I'd received the first email from Charlie's executor, I'd recognized the name immediately. Sam Kane.
God. Sam fucking Kane.
I'd been surprised, for he was only a few years older than me, but if he were one of the few attorneys in town, it was logical for Charlie to use him. But Sam Kane. It had been a simple school girl crush I'd had on him, furtively glancing at him whenever he'd hang out with Cara's brother, Declan. They'd been in high school together and I remembered, when I was at Cara's house, them making tons of food and eating it all while watching movies.
I'd been the outsider, just visiting from New York, but I'd been-gah!-all knobby knees and braces. I hadn't even discovered hair product to tame my wavy hair back then. I hadn't even had boobs. As the friend of a kid sister, I knew they didn't even take notice of me. Why would they have? The last summer I'd come to visit I'd been only twelve. Twelve! What high schooler even glanced at a twelve year old? When I never went back to Bridgewater for the summers anymore, Sam Kane slipped from my mind.
But now … now he filled my every thought. Was he as cute as I remembered?
"Earth to Katie," Cara singsonged.
I blinked, refocusing on my friend and her husband. It was weird to hear that nickname again. I was never Katie to my parents. I'd only been Katie when in Bridgewater.
While Cara was a petite redhead with peaches and cream complexion, Mike was built like a football linebacker and was quite tan. If it weren't for his quick smile and the tender looks he sent his wife's way, I'd be a little intimidated.
I spun my vodka tonic around on the cocktail napkin. "It's not mine yet. I have to sign for the deed tomorrow."
"Whatever," Cara replied, waving her hand. "You lawyers and your official signatures. It will be yours."
"It does feel weird almost owning property so far from home," I replied.
"You could make this your home. With that property free and clear, it would be cheaper than living in New York."
I almost snorted out my drink. "Anything is cheaper than New York," I countered.
Mike grinned.
"I live in a shoe box apartment, but I'm never there except to sleep."
Cara looked up at her husband. "See?"
I glanced between the two of them. "What?" I asked, a little worried.
"You work too hard," Cara offered. "You need to live a little."
"Got a boyfriend?" Mike asked.
I felt myself blush, but hoped the soft lighting hid it. I thought of Chad, the asshole. "I have an ex-husband and that's enough."
"You can't let one guy ruin it for you." Mike pointed at me. "You're young, smart, beautiful. Maybe it's the guys in New York. What are they called, metrosexual?" He took a swig of his beer. "What does that mean anyway?"
Cara and I laughed.
"I'd think Sam Kane is looking for a partner," Mike commented.
I stared at him, wide eyed. "A partner?"
"You're both attorneys. I'm sure you could easily find clients here instead of a big firm that only allows you to sleep."
Mike was a rancher and while his hours catered to livestock and chores, his pace of life was vastly different than mine. There was no commute to work. No rush hour. No overtime or deadlines. No IM's, no texts from upset bosses, no overloaded inbox. Just big skies and cows.
"Katie thought you meant a different kind of partner," Cara clarified, her mouth turning up into a grin.
Mike looked at his wife confused for a moment, then understanding dawned. "I vouch for Sam, Katie."
"Good to know," I mumbled, taking a sip of my drink. Elaine wanted me to have wild monkey sex. Cara was clearly matchmaking, and Mike was a job recruiter. I hadn't even seen Sam since I was twelve and it was like my friends were a committee that gave me a rubber stamp approval to work with, and more importantly, fuck Sam Kane.
"Sorry, I'm late." An attractive guy with blond hair came over to the table, leaned in and kissed Cara. On the mouth. Was that a hint of tongue? And she let him. No, and Mike let him.
What. The. Hell?
My drink was halfway to my mouth and I froze, my eyes going from New Guy to Cara to Mike and back.
New Guy whispered something in Cara's ear and she looked up at him adoringly, as if he were … Mike.
Mike nudged Cara with his elbow and all three of them turned to stare at me.
"I told you she didn't remember," Mike said.
Cara laughed. "Katie, you should see your face!"
I flushed and felt like I was left out of some kind of joke.
"Um … yeah, well-"
New Guy shook his head. "I'm Tyler, Cara's other husband."
Mike and Cara slid over to make room for Tyler in the booth. He moved in beside them, Cara wedged happily in the middle. One dark, one fair, one red head.
"Holy shit," I muttered, and took a big swig of my drink. I waved down the waitress and gave her the signal for another round.
Cara laughed and cocked her head to the side. "You really don't remember, do you?"
"What? That you have two husbands?" I leaned in and whispered the last, afraid someone around us would hear. "I would have remembered if you told me, I promise."
Mike shook his head. "You don't remember that Cara has two husbands or that most women around here do?"
"Most women don't-" I opened my mouth to disagree, but closed it. Frowning, I looked around the bar, then past it to the families seated farther away in the restaurant. There were a lot of tables with a woman, kids, and-two men. Not every table, but enough to make me swallow. Hard. Holy shit. I glanced at Cara and her men again. "But Cara, your parents-"
"You remember my mom, obviously, and my dad, Paul."
I nodded, for I'd played at their house often, had lunch. Cara's dad even fixed my bike chain once. Charlie had bought a red cruiser bike for me that last summer.
"You've met Frank before?"
"Yes."
"He's my other dad."
"You're other … He ran your ranch. I … I thought he was the foreman." I remembered Cara's parents and the foreman, vaguely, and from the perspective of a twelve year old. I never saw Cara's three parents together, that I could think of, but that didn't mean anything. My parents were only together for work functions and charity dinners, at least until recently. They'd begun to travel together when I was in high school. Cruising the Mediterranean, wine tours in Burgundy, African safaris. Without me. I'd always felt like the afterthought, hell, the mistake. They'd ignored my existence as much as possible, making time in their busy schedules to sit in the crowd during my prep school, and then college graduations. When I'd graduated from law school, they'd been on a cruise in the Bahamas, but sent an email congratulating me. I'd never seen them touch, or cuddle, or, frankly, act like they liked each other at all. Cara and her husbands were making me extremely uncomfortable, and, if I were completely honest, a bit envious.
Cara nodded. "Frank does run the ranch. But it's their ranch."
"But you-" I pointed between the three of them who seemed very comfortable with this topic. They weren't joking, they weren't anything but blatantly in love.
"If you look around, you'll see it. Not just the bar. The town, too."
I glanced at the other tables again, looking at the women, half expecting to see each of them with a flashing neon sign over their heads that said I have two husbands!