Page 10 of Texas-Sized Secrets

He was lying and Mona wasn’t buying it. “I never saw it.”

Jeffrey Kuhn sat behind his desk, tapping the point of a pen against his date calendar. “Are you having trouble with your mail service as well as cattle rustling?”

“Do you think I’d getthisupset if I had received the notice? Don’t you think I’d have been in here much earlier, had I known?” Granted, she hadn’t had time to go through all of what she’d thought was junk mail, but she’d opened and paid her bills. If there had been a note from the bank, she’d have opened it. “Damn it, I know I haven’t gotten a single letter from you.”

Mr. Kuhn’s gray-blond brows rose. “I can’t help it if your mail isn’t getting to you. The bank stands firm. I’m sorry, Miss Grainger, my hands are tied. Unless you can come up with the payoff amount in thirty days—” he leaned over to look at the desk calendar “—that would be on the twentieth of next month—the Prairie Rock Bank will have to start foreclosure proceedings on the property.”

“I’m not believing this.”

He shrugged. “I suggest you find another financial institution rather than filing for bankruptcy. You might also consider letting go of some of your help. Like your new hire.” He glanced down at his watch, then abruptly stood. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have another appointment.” He cupped her elbow with a cool, clammy palm and urged her from her chair, practically pushing her out the door.

Still too stunned to respond, Mona let him usher her out, stopping only as they emerged in the bank lobby. “Mr. Kuhn…” When she turned to confront her new nemesis, she could have stomped her foot in frustration.

Jeffrey Kuhn had left her standing alone while he smiled and greeted two men wearing expensive suits. With little more than a passing glance her way, Kuhn ushered the wealthier clients through the door of his office, closing it firmly behind them.

Well, that was that. If she needed confirmation that her uncle was right and she was fighting a losing battle, today’s news was it.

In a daze, she stumbled out into the Texas sunshine beating the heat into the top of her bare head. She plunked her straw hat in place and stared around the brick-paved Main Street of Prairie Rock, at a loss for what to do. Her feet carried her the two blocks south to Dee’s Diner near the town square. She’d left her truck parked near the diner for her lunch date with Catalina, Rosa and Fernando’s only daughter.

By the time she pushed through the swinging glass entrance of the café, perspiration beaded on her brow and upper lip and slid down between her pregnancy-enhanced breasts. Since when had walking become more difficult?

Catalina Garcia met her at the door, a mug in one hand and a carafe of aromatic coffee in the other. “Hey, sweetie.”

Mona smiled and carefully hugged her friend without spilling the coffee.

“Would you hurry it up? We don’t have all day.” Wayne Fennel sat at a table several yards away, facing Mona. His shiny new cowboy boots tapped against the linoleum-tiled floor, a scowl marring his otherwise handsome face. The guy had always been a jerk, especially as a football player in high school. Now he owned a body shop with his partner Les Newton, another equally big jerk.

Les turned to stare at Mona, barely giving her more than a glance, but his gaze ran the length of Catalina’s bare legs, a leer forming on his tanned face. A quiet and more creepy version of Wayne.

Mona wanted to throw up. Gentlemen, they weren’t. If a barroom fight was what you wanted, you could count on those two to deliver.

Catalina grimaced at Mona and tipped her head toward an empty booth in the far corner. “Take a seat by the window. I’ll get you some water just as soon as I take care of Wayne and Les.” With a flounce of her long, bleached hair, she hurried toward the two men and sloshed coffee into their mugs.

Catalina had been Mona’s friend from the day she was born. They’d been inseparable until their teens when Catalina decided she no longer wanted to be Mexican, Hispanic or anything related to Latino. In the past ten years, Catalina had done everything in her power to change her image from Hispanic to white. From gloriously black to bleached-blond hair, brown eyes gone blue with the aid of contacts, down to erasing every hint of accent from her speech. She even affected a southern drawl around eligible men from the big cities who found their way to the small Texas town.

Not Mona, she embraced everything about her mother’s Mexican legacy that she could. It was all she had left of the woman who’d died when she was only six years old.

Mona slid into a vinyl-covered booth overlooking the town square and fought the overwhelming despair washing over her. She wished her mother or father were there to help her figure out the mess she was in. What was she going to do? How could she come up with fifty thousand dollars in a month? She didn’t have two nickels to rub together in her savings, having depleted it to pay her hands and make this month’s loan payment. The sale of some of her herd was supposed to help her make next month’s payment and overhead. Now with over fifty head rustled, even making payroll was looking like a no go.

Catalina swung by the table and called out to the room, “I’m on break, Kelly is covering for me.” Then she dropped into the seat across from Mona, her deep-brown brows tugging downward, a sharp contrast to the bright blond of the fringe hanging over her left eye. “What’s wrong?”

“Everything.” Before she could say more, tears welled in Mona’s eyes and spilled over. She brushed them away with the back of her sleeve. “Damn it, I never cry.”

“It’s the baby talking. All those hormones play hell with a woman’s emotions.”

“Shh. Don’t say that too loud.” Mona glanced around the room to see if anyone had heard Catalina’s remark.

“Don’t worry. I won’t tell. Especially since you won’t tell me whose it is.” Catalina’s eyes narrowed. “Was it Jimmy Raye over at Bar M?”

“No. And forget it. I’m not telling anyone. That particular secret will go with me to my grave.”

“Damn. And I thought best friends shared all their secrets.”

“I can’t afford for this one to get out.” Mona’s gaze dropped to where her hands twisted together, more tears slid down her cheeks.

“Okay, okay. I won’t push it. Now tell me what’s got your chaps in a twist.”

“I just came from the bank.” She gulped and forced calm into her voice. “They’re going to start foreclosure proceedings on the Rancho Linda if I don’t make the balloon payment that’s due in thirty days.”

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