If Looks Could Kill. BEVERLY BARTON

that you’d accuse me of such a thing. I’d never try to—”

      Big Jim laughed, the sound deep and robust. “Lord love you, honey, you honestly can’t see your own faults. Never could.” Not giving his wife time for a quick rebuttal, Jim reached out and slapped Caleb on the arm. “Something tells me that this young man won’t be so easily manipulated. From what I’ve seen, he has a mind and a will of his own. He’ll do whatever the hell he pleases—about Upton Dairies and about Jazzy Talbot.”

      “How is Jasmine?” Miss Reba asked, her voice strained.

      Caleb was genuinely surprised that his grandmother had even inquired about Jazzy. He knew how much effort it had taken her to say Jazzy’s name in a civil manner, con sidering how she—no matter how irrational the idea was—held Jazzy partly responsible for Jamie’s death.

      “Jazzy’s just fine,” Caleb replied. “Thank you for asking, Miss Reba.”

      “I do wish you’d call me Big Mama.”

      “I feel more comfortable calling you Miss Reba, at least for now.”

      “Miss Reba and Big Jim us fine with us,” Jim said. “So, Jazzy’s doing fine, huh? You’ll have to bring her out here to dinner one evening.” He shot Reba a warning glare. “Won’t he, honey? We’d be pleased to have her.”

      Caleb glanced at his grandmother and barely restrained the laughter bubbling up in his throat. Miss Reba had gone ghost white, her perfect pink mouth formed a startled oval and her big blue eyes widened as round as saucers.

      “I doubt Jasmine Talbot would accept an invitation to dine with us,” Reba said. “Considering our past history.”

      “She might.” Caleb looked pleadingly at his grandmother. “If you telephoned her and invited her yourself.”

      Miss Reba swallowed, took a deep breath and offered him a weak smile. “Would you like that, dear? Would it please you?”

      “Yes, ma’am. It would please me a great deal. I’d very much like it if the woman I love and my grandmother could get along.”

      “You—you love her?”

      “Yes, ma’am, I do.”

      “I see.”

      Jim sat quietly, watching and listening. And apparently waiting to find out what the outcome of this exchange would be.

      “You might as well know that sooner or later, I’ll wear Jazzy down and she’ll agree to marry me.” Caleb kept his gaze fixed determinedly on his grandmother’s pale face. “And there’s nothing anyone can say or do to stop me from making her my wife. Do you understand what I’m saying, Miss Reba?”

      “Yes, I understand perfectly.”

      “I hope you do because I wouldn’t want to ever have to choose between you and her. I’ve just found you and Big Jim. I’d sure hate to lose you.”

      “You aren’t going to lose me—lose us,” Miss Reba said with firm conviction. “I’ll telephone Jasmine later today and invite her to Sunday dinner tomorrow.”

      Grinning, feeling as if he’d won a major battle, Caleb got up, walked over to his grandmother and kissed her on the cheek. “Thank you.”

      Tears glistened in Miss Reba’s eyes. Curling her small hand around his arm, she pursed her lips and returned his kiss.

      “Oh, by the way, you might want to invite Reve Sorrell, too,” Caleb said. “She arrived in Cherokee Pointe earlier today and is going to be staying for a while. Dr. MacNair took DNA samples this morning and sent them off. We should know within a week if Jazzy and Reve are twins.”

      “That’s a mighty peculiar thing,” Big Jim said. “Those two gals finding out that they could be sisters. Has Jazzy questioned her aunt Sally again about the circumstances surrounding her birth?”

      “No, not lately, but the old woman has sworn that Jazzy was the only baby born to her sister, Corrine.”

      “Where is Ms. Sorrell staying?” Reba asked. “Surely not with Jasmine. I mean, the two hardly know each other and certainly have nothing in common.”

      Caleb pulled away from his grandmother and returned to his seat. “No, she and Jazzy haven’t reached the sisterly bonding point. Yet. Reve is renting a place from Cherokee Cabin Rentals.”

      “I should invite her to stay here,” Reba said and elicited surprised looks from Caleb and Big Jim.

      “Why ever would you do that?” Jim asked.

      “Because Ms. Sorrell was a friend of Jamie’s. And her parents were part of the same social circle as the Wallaces and the Grambrells. Eileen Wallace and I were sorority sisters. Anna Lee Grambrell and I have served on numerous Republican fund raisers statewide. And I’m almost certain that I met Lesley Sorrell not only at a couple of those fundraisers, but at Eileen’s daughter’s wedding, too.”

      “Then by all means, considering how closely our families are connected, you must call Ms. Sorrell immediately and invite her to stay with us.” Big Jim chuckled, quite pleased with his own sarcastically humorous assessment of the situation.

      “I don’t appreciate your facetious comment,” Reba told her husband. “I’d be remiss in my duties as a social leader in Cherokee County if I didn’t extend an invitation to Ms. Sorrell.” She eyed Caleb quizzically. “Do Reve Sorrell and Jasmine Talbot look just alike?”

      Caleb grinned. “Yes, except for a few superficial differences. Why do you ask?”

      “Oh, no reason.” Reba sighed, then a genuine smile spread across her face. “I’ll telephone Jasmine and invite her and Ms. Sorrell to join us for Sunday dinner. Tomorrow, when they’re here, I’ll issue Ms. Sorrell an invitation to stay with us. I’m sure she’ll find living here preferable to staying in one of those dinky little cabins. A lady of her breeding must find roughing it quite intolerable.”

      Big Jim chuckled under his breath, then winked at Caleb before looking directly at his wife. “I know you, Reba Upton. You’re up to something. You wouldn’t by any chance think that since those two gals look just alike, they could be interchangeable as far as Caleb is concerned, would you?”

      “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” She feigned innocence.

      “I’m talking about your thinking Reve Sorrell is socially acceptable and would make a suitable granddaughter-in-law.”

      “Why, Jim, what a thing to say.”

      Caleb reached out and grasped his grandmother’s hand. “I’m sure you’d never believe something so foolish, would you, Miss Reba? I’m in love with Jazzy, with everything about her. And that includes a lot more than her physical appearance. You could parade a dozen look-alikes in front of me and not one of them would ever measure up to Jazzy. After all, if a man who looked just like Big Jim showed up, you wouldn’t automatically fall out of love with Big Jim and in love with this other man, would you?”

      “No, of course not. I—”

      Dora came bustling into the breakfast room, placed a china soup cauldron on the table, then hurried back to the kitchen and returned with a plate of cornbread and a pitcher of iced tea. “Save room for dessert.”

      “Let’s enjoy our lunch,” Big Jim said. “This afternoon, while you’re issuing invitations”—he smiled at Miss Reba—“I want to show Caleb around the stables and maybe the two of us will take a ride out over the farm.”

      “A ride as in a horseback ride?” Caleb asked.

      “Have you never been horseback riding, son?” Jim cocked his eyebrows ever so slightly.

      “Nope. I was raised a city boy. I spent a lot of time riding a motorcycle, but I’ve never been on a horse.”

      “Then it’s high time you