Texas Heat. Debbi Rawlins

the fogged mirror. Perfect. She didn’t want to have to look at her reflection, anyway.

      Annoyed with her attitude, she grabbed the comb from her carry-on and dragged the teeth through her wet hair. Normally she’d let it air-dry but she knew darn well Jessica and Lisa would be getting gussied up tonight. Normally that wouldn’t matter to Dory, but she didn’t want to seem uncouth, either. After all, they were adults, not indifferent college kids anymore, she thought as her gaze rested on the makeup Jessica had left in her corner of the white-tiled countertop.

      Dory had tried eyeliner and eye shadow once. The experience had been a total disaster. She generally stuck to mascara, and only when she remembered that she had a tube in her backpack. Luckily, with the amount of sun exposure she received from working outside, she never worried about foundation or blush.

      Still staring at the intimidating assortment of cosmetics, she nibbled her lower lip. It wouldn’t hurt to take another stab at it. Jessica wouldn’t care if she used any of this stuff, in fact, she’d probably be elated. She’d always tried to get Dory to make more of her appearance.

      Can’t you for once act like a girl?

      His words reverberated in her head like the grating sound of a bird’s screech bouncing off canyon walls.

      Why was she letting his thoughtless remark get to her? If anything, she shouldn’t have let him off so easily. She should’ve made him define girl and watch him squirm. So what if Dory wasn’t a Sara Lynn. She wouldn’t apologize for that. For the past two years she’d worked exclusively with men, the only woman for hundreds of miles and still hadn’t sparked an interest in any of them. She never questioned it. Never gave it a thought. Until now.

      Was she really that hopeless?

      Furiously, she wiped the mirror until there was a small area clear enough to see her reflection, and then started grabbing the various compacts of eye shadow, liner sticks and lip pencils. This was going to be tricky, drying her hair and deftly applying the unfamiliar makeup in a short period of time. Briefly she thought about calling for Jessica who Dory could hear moving about in the adjoining room, but she wasn’t up to the inevitable bombardment of questions. Until this morning, they hadn’t seen her for five years. Maybe if she showed up wearing makeup, they’d believe she’d changed.

      She went to work, first drying her hair, though leaving it damp, and then tackling the face paint. She felt clumsy but worked quickly and within minutes, blinked at the garish face that stared back. Her confidence crumpled. The black around her eyes made her look like a raccoon, and the gray shadow resembled one of those goth chicks that hung around the mall. The pale pink lipstick was okay, but that was it. Pretty sad.

      So much for acting like a girl. Disappointed yet annoyed with her foolishness, she plucked two tissues from the box and started to wipe her face, careful not to end up with black streaks on her cheeks. By the time she was done, something miraculous had happened. The residual makeup that remained was perfect. The smudged smoky color around her brown eyes made them look bigger and more exotic. The difference was subtle yet totally amazing.

      She nervously licked her lips, totally screwing up the lipstick, and had to reapply it after slipping on a clean pair of jeans and one of the denim blouses she’d brought. After a final check in the mirror, she left her room and headed toward the sound of Kate’s and Lisa’s laughter. They were coming from the kitchen, carrying platters of sliced chicken and beef and veggie trays.

      “Just in time,” Kate said, catching sight of her and motioning with a tilt of her head for Dory to follow. “Because the kitchen has been tied up all day, we’re just having sandwiches. And then sinfully rich chocolate cake.”

      “Sounds good to me. I’m so hungry I’d even eat eggplant at this point.”

      Making a sound of disgust, Jessica came from behind with a pitcher of water and a bottle of red wine. “That’s pretty desperate.”

      “What can I do?” Dory asked.

      “I heard you’ve been busting your fanny all day.” Lisa slid her tray onto the oak dining room table and then looked up, her blue eyes widening. “Whoa, welcome to the age of glamour.”

      “What?” She hadn’t meant to sound peevish. Oh, God, when the other two turned to stare at her she wanted to crawl under the table.

      Kate’s slaw-jawed surprise didn’t help. “You look terrific. When did you start wearing makeup?”

      She shrugged. “A couple of years ago.” At the ridiculous lie, heat crawled up her neck, and she turned, pretending to be looking for something. “Should I get silverware?”

      Jessica got in her face and grinned. “I’m so proud. Our little girl is all grown up.”

      “Very funny. Now knock it off.” So much for subtle. She glanced toward the stairs that led to the bedrooms. If Clint showed up now and heard all the teasing, she’d just die of embarrassment.

      Although she couldn’t seem to hide her amusement, Kate gave the other two a warning look and then dug into the drawer of an oak china hutch that matched the table. Producing a stack of beige linen napkins, she handed them to Dory along with a handful of forks and knives. “You can set these out.”

      Lisa passed out dinner and dessert plates, while Jessica went to get water glasses.

      Kate laid serving forks beside the platters of meat and sliced tomatoes, and then remembering that they needed mayo and mustard, returned to the kitchen.

      After completing her task, Dory glanced at the grandfather clock near the stairs. Where was Clint, anyway? Or Kate’s other brother, for that matter.

      “Let’s get the wine poured,” Lisa said, and popped the cork. “Pass me some glasses, will you?”

      The other two returned, and they all took their seats. Kate started passing the food, and Dory realized only four places had been set. Good thing she hadn’t gotten all made up for Clint. Clearly he’d decided to bail on dinner.

      5

      THE NEXT DAY STARTED OUT hot even before the sun inched up over the mesquite trees dotting the eastern slopes. Clint squinted at the haze of dust kicked up by his brother’s horse as he galloped south, intent on riding the fence line. Joe had always liked to stick to daily operations rather than get involved with the weekend’s festivities, but today he’d been particularly stubborn about putting distance between himself and the fray. Even after Clint had practically begged him to swap places with him.

      He knew that facing Dory was inevitable, and that it wasn’t going to be easy. Shame had shadowed him the whole night, and he’d deserved every last minute of feeling as if a noose were tightening around his neck. Not that he thought she’d gone running to tell Kate what a jerk her brother was. He was pretty sure Dory was more the type to pretend the incident had never happened. Except he’d seen the hurt look on her face.

      Figuring his presence at supper wouldn’t be welcome, he’d eaten with the men in the bunkhouse, and then drank beer and played Texas Hold ’Em until midnight. But because his mind hadn’t been on poker, he’d lost a couple hundred bucks. If that wasn’t bad enough, most of it had been to their foreman, whose irritating cackle and penchant for pointing out every dumb play Clint made had just about pushed him over the edge.

      He downed his third cup of black coffee, relieved that the dull ache in his head from too much beer and too little sense was finally easing up. So far, only one of the tents had been erected and it was already close to eight-thirty. Last night’s jump start on the weekend’s festivities had put them behind schedule. Most of the men helping with the party preparations were slow moving, probably hung over, and he couldn’t say a word because he was such a damn poor example.

      “Good morning,” Dory said cheerfully as she came from behind and stood beside him, her hands wrapped around an oversize blue mug.

      He eyed her warily, but she didn’t give any indication that she was still upset. “Mornin.’ Sleep well?”

      “Boy,