Texas Vows: A McCabe Family Saga. Cathy Thacker Gillen

      Will had an idea why Lewis wanted him there. He wanted someone to talk some sense into Brad and Riley, because while Lewis liked to be part of the “group” he didn’t like to get chewed out or grounded. And whatever mischief Brad and Riley were concocting for Kate Marten’s first night under their roof was probably going to cause both things to happen, Will thought. Dad would hit the ceiling. And some—if not all of them—would end up on some sort of restriction. Will had had enough of that the past six months to last him a lifetime. Even when he’d had nothing to do with it, he’d ended up getting blamed just because he was the oldest. He glared at the three of them. “Next person who unlocks my door is going to get a fist for breakfast. Now get out of here.”

      Lewis looked disappointed. Brad and Riley remained unperturbed. “Fine. Be that way.” Brad shrugged, already heading for the door.

      “Yeah, your loss,” Riley warned. “You’re going to miss some fun.” Together, they eased from his room as stealthily as they had entered.

      Will flipped onto his stomach and pressed his face into the pillow. He wished he could have some fun. But now that he was living in Laramie, there wasn’t much chance of that. All of his friends were back in Dallas.

      He could have vetoed the move here. Persuaded his dad they should stay in Dallas. But he hadn’t because he was tired of seeing the pitying glances of his friends and teachers, tired of being reminded everywhere he went, in everything he did, that his mom had died. And he’d known, with his senior year coming up, and all the senior activities scheduled that it was only going to get worse.

      He wasn’t the only one feeling the pain. It had been just as bad for his brothers and his dad. So once school was out, they’d taken a vote and decided to move back to Laramie, to their house there. To see if that was any better.

      In a sense it was. In Laramie, he really felt part of the McCabe clan in a way he never had in Dallas, and Will liked being closer to Aunt Lilah and Uncle John, their four sons and their families. It gave him a sense of belonging he hadn’t had since his mom had died.

      What he didn’t like was the way he was constantly being compared to his dad. Since they had moved back here at the beginning of July, Will had been told he looked like his dad, acted like his dad, and as far as some people were concerned, might as well have been his dad “at that age.”

      Will just didn’t see it.

      Okay, so there was some physical resemblance. He had seen pictures of his dad at seventeen. Admittedly, they did look a lot alike. But any similarities ended there. Will couldn’t have cared less about computers or business or any of that. He wasn’t going to grow up to be a workaholic who knew more about what was going on at work than he did in his own home. And he sure as heck wasn’t going to get so wrapped up in any one woman that he couldn’t seem to function without her. There was a place for females in his life. But no female was going to be his life. Any girlfriend he had from this point forward would just have to understand that.

      Meantime, Will sighed, looking at the clock and seeing another half-hour had passed, he had to get some sleep if he was going to be worth a damn at practice tomorrow. Knowing there was only one way that would happen anytime soon, Will got up and went to his closet. He reached for the duffel bag beneath the pile of clothes and magazines and brought it out just far enough to get what he needed before he headed back to bed.

      CHAPTER FIVE

      KATE WOKE to find the sun streaming in through the curtains. She sat up with a start and glanced at the clock. The digital display flashed four-fifteen. Damn, she thought, tossing back the covers. Her first full day taking care of the boys and the electricity was out. Odds were, six-year-old Kevin had been up for hours. Anxious to make sure everything was under control in the rest of the house, she grabbed her robe, belted it around her, and went to the bedroom door.

      Though she could see the door was unlocked, the handle still wouldn’t budge. Frowning, Kate tried again to no avail. It was definitely stuck and she had the sinking sense it was no accident. So the boys were giving her a welcome of their own, hmm? Amused but far from defeated, Kate grabbed a pair of denim shorts, a T-shirt, and sneakers. She dressed hurriedly, put her hair up in a ponytail, then went back to try the door one last time. It still wouldn’t budge. Which left only one way out. Her bedroom window.

      Kate went to the curtains and opened them. She lifted the window, then the screen. Ducking her head, she swung her leg out over the wide wooden sill. She groaned in dismay as something soft, thick and squishy plastered the inside of her thigh. Almost afraid to look, Kate touched a finger to the gooey mess. Peanut butter. Oh, nice, boys, nice.

      Well, a little peanut butter had never hurt anyone, Kate told herself sternly as she wiped what she could off with the flat of her hand, then smeared it on the sill, figuring that was going to have to be cleaned, anyway. And she knew by whom! Her heart thudding in her chest, she used her hands as leverage and lowered her sneaker-clad feet onto the ground beneath her. Kate swore again as her ankles stuck to the surprisingly wet ground cover.

      Knowing by now there had to be something there, too, Kate looked down at her feet. She was up to her ankles in leaves and—oh, God—was that…maple syrup that had been generously slopped all over the ivy? She touched her finger to it, then lifted it to her face and cautiously sniffed. Yes, it sure was.

      “Funny, boys,” Kate muttered as the Texas summer sun shone down on her head. Telling herself she had been a camp counselor for six years and could certainly handle this, Kate made her way out of the ground cover and onto the stone pathway that curved around the house, her shoes smacking irritatingly with every step. She made her way down the sidewalk to the garden hose. Using the flat of her unsticky left hand, she removed as much of the remaining peanut butter from her inner thigh as she could, then took off her shoes and rinsed off her feet and ankles. She did not want to be barefoot when she confronted the boys, but she had no choice.

      Aware she did not have a house key, as Sam had neglected to give her one, Kate leisurely made her way around to the front door. It was locked. She rang the bell. No one answered.

      Sure by now she was being watched from somewhere—the boys would not have wanted to miss this!—Kate glanced around behind her and saw nothing. No one in the trees or in the cars. Kate went around to the garage. It, too, was locked up tight as a drum. Kate headed for the back door off the laundry room. It was unlocked. Which meant what? she wondered. Another booby trap?

      Determined not to be caught unawares this time, she edged it open. Then waited just outside the doorway. Again, not so much as one breath was heard. “Okay, guys,” she called in a firm but cheerful voice as she gingerly stepped inside. As she did so, a bucket above her upended, pouring at least a quart of white flour onto her head.

      Kate sneezed several times, and thought, but couldn’t be sure, she heard a chorus of muffled male giggles. “All right, guys, you’ve made your point,” Kate announced as she dusted the flour from her face.

      Heading for the kitchen, she went straight to the drawer beside the sink and brought out a clean dishtowel. Still standing in front of the sink, she reached for the spigot, turned the water on and was promptly drenched from neck to waist by the sprayer hose beside the faucet. Screaming in surprise, Kate jumped backward away from the still-spraying hose on the sink ledge. This time she heard lots of laughter. Kate swiftly moved around to shut off the water.

      Okay, this was the place where she was supposed to scream and threaten and lose it, Kate concluded thoughtfully. No doubt that was what all the other housekeepers Sam had employed had done. But not her, Kate thought as she studied the rubber band the boys had wrapped around the handle of the sink sprayer, pressing the lever into an on position and guaranteeing that whomever turned on the water next would be drenched. They might have gotten her four times in a row. But this was one situation where they would definitely not have the last laugh.

      Her plan already forming, Kate tiptoed back out of the house and headed for the driveway. Will’s Jeep was gone—he was probably at football practice. But Brad’s car was still there and it was unlocked. Kate lifted the hood and did a little quick