Page 20 of First Date: Divorce (Wyoming Marriage Association #1)

FRIDAY

K.D. thought she’d be up and out for a run — a solitary run — before anyone else stirred.

But Pauline sat in the kitchen, sipping a cup of coffee when K.D. went to get water to take with her.

Not all that surprising since the older woman would leave today, too, flying to Chicago to visit family while Eric was at Marriage-Save.

“Morning. I’m going for a run.” As if the woman couldn’t figure it out from her outfit.

“Heard you two come in last night. It’s natural to take the tension out on each other.”

“We didn’t say anything—”

“No, you didn’t,” Pauline said with emphasis. “But you clearly had. Or you’d have said good-night to each other, talked about what’s happening today. As I said, it’s natural to take out the tension on each other, but silence isn’t the answer.

“I don’t know you well, K.D. Have some ideas, but don’t know you well.

But I do know Eric. He’s come through the other side of his marriage even stronger, though he’s not convinced of that yet.

He’s also come through it needing — requiring — someone who tells him the truth. To be completely honest with him.”

“Isn’t that what everyone needs?” she said lightly, hoping to turn aside the other woman’s intensity.

“Absolutely not. Some people want anything but honesty. They want the pleasant fiction.”

K.D. felt her eyebrows rise. “Pleasant fiction? That’s not something law enforcement deals with a lot.”

“Exactly. You deal in facts. That’s perfect.”

*

K.D. got out of there fast. She had a run to get in. A long run.

Perfect …

Pauline meant perfect for Eric because it fit what Pauline thought he needed.

Great. Pauline could think perfect for Eric Larkin was all that mattered. Didn’t mean that mattered to K.D. Hamilton.

What about her? What did she need?

The questions pounded at her as she ran, her mind never clearing as it did during most runs.

Pounded and hounded … until the only answer to what did she need became easy — a shower.

She needed a shower.

And to get started on this investigation.

*

Pauline was alone in the kitchen, her suitcase by the front door.

“You can quit skulking in the doorway, Eric. K.D.’s come and gone already this morning. Took a run, showered, had her breakfast, and back upstairs in her room. Alone.”

Of all that, he responded to, “I’m not skulking.” He strode in, gathering the makings and tools for scrambled eggs.

“Well, maybe you should be,” shot back Pauline. “What did you do to that young woman?”

“I didn’t do anything to her.” He cracked eggs into a bowl and whisked them.

“Maybe that’s the problem.”

“Pauline—”

“Don’t Pauline me. You can pretend with other people, but you can’t pretend with me.

Left you alone to start, letting you tend your wounds.

But they’ve healed up enough for you to start living again.

And if you don’t, those scarred up wounds’ll stiffen so bad you’ll hardly be able to move.

Time to face facts. Hilary was a lemon. Just because you bought a lemon car doesn’t mean you never get another one. Hell, never drive again.”

He could have argued with the notion that she’d ever left him alone.

But there were bigger fish to fry in that speech.

He could justifiably express outrage she thought he’d never drive again . Instead, he had the strongest urge to share Pauline’s relationships as cars theory with K.D. She’d try to suppress her amusement, but he’d see it and enjoy it.

He settled for, “Thanks for that wisdom.”

“I mean it. There’ve been plenty enough women since we came here who let their interest in you be known. Bet there’re several sniffling in their hankies right now over this supposed wife of yours showing up unexpectedly.”

“Then there will be rejoicing in Bardville when we hit the breakup portion of this show.” The eggs were nearly done. He took out a plate and fork.

She snorted. “Won’t do them any good, because you not only don’t go after a woman, you don’t respond when they fall over in front of you.”

“Hah. Kiernan McRae reminded me Tuesday that I made a play for Bexley when we were all stranded at Gramps’ store.”

She snorted again. More emphatically. Apparently, she never ran out of the raw material for that sound.

“Made a play for her my eye. Even you caught the currents between those two from the second they walked in from the blizzard.”

He turned to her. “They were distant. Sometimes politely, sometimes not. It wasn’t until after Kiernan and I talked while we got boxes from the attic that it started to change.” He transferred the eggs to his plate.

“Talked? About what?”

“Guy stuff.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “You asked if he had a claim to Bexley because maybe, possibly, on some distant planet you might do something to show an interest in her.”

“I was interested in her.”

“You weren’t interested in her. You liked her and she’s sure attractive, but down deep in your lawyer mind, you knew she was safe because it was her and Kiernan all along. I’ll even give you credit for bringing it up to Kiernan to wake him up.”

“I am not that devious.” Another snort. “I asked Kiernan because they came in together. And I was interested in Bexley.”

She crossed her arms over her chest and stared at him with a mixture of disapproval and hope. He put the pan in the sink and ran water in it.

“She was safe because she was taken. That let you pretend you’d picked up the pieces after Hilary and were all ready to re-enter the land of the living, but, gosh, golly, the woman you were interested in chose someone else.”

“You’re nuts, Pauline.” He stood, gathering his plate and fork to take them to the table on the deck.

“That suited you fine, making out that Bexley loving Kiernan excused your return to the deep freeze. And one more thing, Eric.”

He delayed his departure only out of politeness. He didn’t need to turn around to face her words.

“Bet you haven’t asked Tal Bennett if he’s interested in K.D. Because that wouldn’t change your feelings about her one bit. He could be shouting it from the top of the Big Horn Mountains and it wouldn’t matter to you. Not unless she returned his interest.”

His turn to snort, though he wasn’t as good at it as Pauline. Sure didn’t get as much practice.

On the deck, though, he couldn’t avoid his thoughts … and memories of words.

Not Pauline’s.

Kiernan’s.

How I felt about the idea of you and Bexley … Well, it started me seeing straight.

But that was Kiernan and Bexley … peppered with a dose of Pauline’s imagination.

*

K.D. opened the bedroom door in response to a knock.

She had completely recovered from her strange unsteadiness yesterday. And any effect from Pauline’s words earlier this morning.

Time now to get down to business — her investigation and their divorce.

“Cully called,” Eric said. “Kendra’s finished editing. Apparently, she’s pretty pleased with the result. We’re supposed to get there as soon as we can. Cully’s already on his way by a roundabout route in case anybody notices.”

“She must have been up most of the night.”

“You’re probably right,” he said.

He looked as if he might have been up most of the night, too. Remembering his previous wedding night? Entertaining thoughts that last night wasn’t how he’d expected to spend his next wedding night?

Not something she needed to know.

Wouldn’t help their role-playing at all.

Besides, she knew from the mirror that she looked tired, too. Yesterday had been a long, wearing day. All that posing. All that pretending.

On the plus side, looking tired helped their charade.

Wouldn’t do to show up at Marriage-Save looking sleek and well-rested.

“Let’s go see what Kendra’s put together.” She grabbed a hooded sweater from a nearby chair.