Free Texas Heat by Fern Michaels

You’re more like them than you know—you belong here. Besides, you’re not lacking in social skills. I remember some of the clippings from the social columns describing the parties you threw when you lived in New York with Cranston. And even before that, you were director of Sandor Locke’s art gallery as well as his unofficial hostess. I should think that New York crowd would be much more critical than people here in Texas. You’ve always been a success, Maggie; things won’t change now.”
    â€œI hope you’re right, Mam. This is a first for me.” Maggie opened the door to the house and allowed Billie to step through. “I didn’t get one refusal, but I can’t fool myself. I know why they’re coming and so do you. They want another look at all of us, Amelia, Susan, you.”
    â€œPerhaps you’re right, but we’ll present the united front you want. Stop worrying. As you said, no one refused your invitation, not even the governor!”
    â€œThey want to eat my food and drink my liquor! They’re all freeloaders who live from one party to the next!”
    Billie giggled. “Seth used to say almost the same thing. ... And Maggie, I noticed that you aren’t drinking at all. I’m proud of you, believe me.”
    â€œI do, Mam. I need a clear head for my future, and I won’t clutter it up with booze and pills. I don’t want to be dependent on anything except my own resources. I have Cole and Riley to think of now. It’s a new Maggie.”
    â€œAnd I like her,” Billie said. “I always liked the old Maggie, too.”
    â€œFor a while I didn’t know that, Mam. I wasn’t certain anyone liked the old Maggie, not even myself.”
    â€œMaggie, Sawyer doesn’t—”
    â€œNot now, Mam. Not today. I’m not so sure this new me is strong enough to tackle that old skeleton. Let me take it one step at a time.”
    â€œAll right, Maggie. But it won’t go away, you know. Sooner or later you and Sawyer will have to resolve your feelings.”
    â€œI know. I’m doing my best. I’ll try, really.”
    â€œYou know, just for a minute you looked like Moss,” Billie said quietly. “That same haunted expression used to come into his eyes when he was forced to make a promise he had no intention of keeping. I’m sorry, Maggie. I don’t want to press you.”
    Billie shivered and a sudden prickle of goose bumps broke out on her arms. “Come away from the door, Mam; we’re standing in a draft.” Then, in a lighter tone, “Guess what I’m wearing tonight.”
    Billie laughed. “The honeysuckle-patterned beaded gown?”
    â€œExactly. It’ll knock everyone’s eyes out. Everyone will know you designed the fabric especially for me. Amelia said she bought a new Adolfo, and Susan told me she’s wearing the two-piece watered silk you sent her for Christmas. I didn’t get a chance to ask Sawyer.”
    â€œWhatever she wears, she’ll be stunning. Are you planning on a receiving line, Maggie?”
    â€œAbsolutely. All the Coleman women will be lined up to let ’em get a first-crack look at us. What’re you planning to wear?”
    â€œWell, since you insist they’re coming to gawk, I just might wear my birthday suit! That should set them back on their heels!”
    Â 
    Cary stepped out of the shower and into the thickly carpeted bedroom, a scanty towel wrapped around his hard, lean middle. With another towel he was drying his obstinately wavy black hair.
    â€œAre you finished with the bathroom?” asked Amelia. “How come you always get to use the shower first?”
    â€œBecause I don’t stay in there for two hours and you do.” Cary quipped, moving closer to plant a kiss on the side of her neck. Lovingly he took his wife’s hand and held it, oblivious to the network of blue veins and the faint brown