If Tiffany noticed any part of the exchange she ignored it as J.D. locked the back door. “Now, come on, I just talked to Aunt Katie. She and Josh need a ride.”

“Still no car?” J.D. asked. He seemed every bit the lawyer in what looked to be an expensive suit and neat tie.

“Not for a few more days. If I were her, I’d go out of my mind. The good news is that Josh is off crutches and that the phone calls he was getting have stopped.”

“What phone calls?”

“Oh, some kind of prank, I think. He’d answer and no one was there.”

“Probably kids.” J.D. shook his head but every overworked muscle in Luke’s body tightened. He hadn’t seen Katie in a couple of days, not since she’d been out to the ranch.

Tiffany had shepherded the family down the back steps and onto the dry grass of the lawn when she spied Luke climbing out of his truck. “Oh, hi!” The worried knot between her eyebrows disappeared as both kids dashed for J.D.’s Jeep. “It’s a madhouse as usual around here. If we make it to the wedding on time it’ll be a miracle,” she said with a laugh. Her eyes skated down his dusty, sweat-stained T-shirt and worn jeans. “I thought—I mean, didn’t Katie say that you were going to Bliss’s . . .” She blushed and he figured out the rest for himself.

“I think she expects me to show up at the reception.”

“You should!” Tiffany enthused.

“I told Bliss I’d think about it.”

A horn blared and Luke spied Stephen behind the steering wheel of J.D.’s rig. A broad smile creased his face.

“Stephen, stop!” Tiffany said, shaking her head at her son. She turned back to Luke. “We really do have to run,” Tiffany said as J.D. managed to get his soon-to-be stepson to move to the back seat as he was still a few years too young to drive.

Luke waved and headed up the stairs. He tried not to think about Katie dressed up and looking for him at the reception, nor did he want to dwell too long on the thought of a couple making vows. He’d been down that road himself and had ended up being burned. Big time. Good luck to Mason and Bliss. He wanted no part of it.

The carriage house was stuffy and hot, so he cracked the windows, opened a beer and settled into his recliner with the paper. The headline on page one caught his attention: Wells Mystery Deepens. Katie Kinkaid’s name was on the story. “Great,” Luke growled, taking a long swallow from his bottle. His eyes skimmed the article and his jaw hardened. “Damned fool woman.”

There was no doubt about it; she was trying her best to get herself killed.

It’s none of your business, Gates. None.