Last Chance Beauty Queen (23 page)

She shook her head. “No, I’ve got my brother’s truck. I’m okay.”

She didn’t want to risk any further contact with him. If she let him walk her to the truck, she might succumb to that look in his eyes. So she turned and ran away on bare feet.

Thank goodness he didn’t follow.

H
ugh’s mobile phone rang just as he was pulling the hired Mustang up the driveway to Miriam Randall’s boardinghouse. He put the car in park, set the brake, and checked the caller ID. With a call arriving at almost two in the morning, it had to be one of the aunts. He couldn’t duck either of them without causing them to worry.

And truth be told, he was halfway glad of the call. Hearing from Petunia would remind him that having a dalliance with Rocky Rhodes was something he should be trying to avoid.

He pushed the talk button. “Aunt Petunia?”

“Huey, is that you?” came the querulous voice on the end of the line.

“Petal?”

“Yes, dear. It’s me.”

“Where’s Petunia?”

“Oh, out and about, I guess. I’m not sure.”

“Why are you calling, Aunt Petal?”

There was an ominous silence on the other end of the line.

“Petal?”

“Huey, are you all right?”

“I’m fine,” he lied. “It’s just very late—or early here in America. Aunt Petal, you see there is—”

“Oh, for heaven’s sake, Huey, I do know the difference in time between here and there. But I got the very distinct feeling just a little while ago that you were in trouble. And of course, Aeval told me you were in some difficulty.”

“Aeval?” His voice broke. In fairy lore, Aeval was supposed to have been a fairy queen reigning in some obscure place in Ireland who held court to judge whether husbands were satisfying their wives. Petal had a four-foot concrete statue of a fairy that she insisted was the resting place of Aeval’s ghost. Not too surprisingly, when Petal had been speaking with Aeval, she had the annoying habit of getting the vicar up in arms—the vicar being a man who had probably never satisfied his wife.

Granddad had been the object of Aeval’s scorn. And given what Hugh had been up to, it was probably not a surprise that Aeval was in a snit.

Hugh felt an ominous twitch in his middle. He didn’t believe in Petal’s ghosts. But it was truly uncanny the way Petal seemed to be able to predict divorces in the village. Petal, like Miriam Randall, had a knack for making it all seem logical.

But of course, it wasn’t logical. And Petal had probably heard from Petunia that he was having difficulties. So Aeval was not really to blame for this call. Nevertheless, he humored his dotty aunt. There wasn’t much else he could do. “What exactly did Aeval tell you?” he asked.

“She told me you were about to make a terrible mistake. She says I need to stop you.”

Well, he could rest easy on that score. He’d been a gentleman this evening. He’d avoided the mistake of taking Caroline to a place called the Peach Blossom Motor Court.

“Look, Aunt Petal, I’m fine, really. I’ve behaved in a gentlemanly fashion in everything I’ve done here. You don’t need to worry about me. Now it’s almost two in the morning, and I need to get to bed.”

He was unlikely to sleep, but it was a good ruse to get the old girl off the telephone.

“Petunia told me about this woman. This heiress you’ve met,” Petal said.

“Who? Oh you mean Cissy Warren.”

“I didn’t get her name. Tell me about her.”

“She’s quite… wealthy,” he said, not able really to get much enthusiasm going for Cissy Warren when his whole body was aching for Rocky.

“Well, that’s something, I suppose. But—”

“Look, Aunt Petal, it’s very late here. And I promise you that I haven’t forgotten the family motto. I’ll do what’s expected of me. You needn’t worry about that. Tell Aeval when you next speak with her that I’ve got things under control here, and I’m likely to be back in the UK in a few days.”

“All right, Huey. I will. Good night then.”

“Good night, dear.”

He rang off the phone and then slumped forward to rest his head on the steering wheel. Petal wasn’t in touch with reality. But sometimes he got the feeling her little people were.

Caroline set the parking brake on Stone’s truck and sat in the dark for a long moment. Her heart beat in her chest. She sucked breath in and out. Nothing seemed outwardly different.

But everything had changed.

She’d been forced into the kiss-off contest, but she couldn’t say she was sorry for it. If not for that, she would have run away from Hugh and missed all that two-stepping, not to mention the snogging in the fun house.

She wanted more. But she couldn’t have it. It was insane to go chasing after a fantasy. And besides, tomorrow morning she’d be paying the piper for what happened today. She was glad she’d bypassed the Peach Blossom Motor Court.

The folks in town wanted a love story, not an erotic encounter that wasn’t going to lead to anything but gossip.

Folks in Last Chance just wanted happy endings. And to them, her happy ending would involve some local boy. They didn’t care if it was Bubba or Dash. Just so long as it was familiar and had Miriam Randall’s blessing.

She sank her head down on the steering wheel as a knot the size of a peach stone clogged her throat. Why couldn’t she have a guy like Hugh? Cinderella got Prince Charming, didn’t she? Why did she have to settle for the salt of the earth?

Caroline didn’t want an ordinary soulmate. She wanted an extraordinary one. She wanted someone who was good enough to run off with the way Sharon and Stone had.

Right now Caroline couldn’t think of anyone she had
ever wanted to run off with—until tonight. She had really wanted to go someplace with Hugh.

But she had stopped herself. She’d done the right thing. But it made her feel crappy. But she had a job to do and Miriam’s ironclad predictions to guide her.

She opened the car door. It let go of a loud squeal that advertised its ancient state. It broke the quiet of the night.

Caroline tiptoed through the front door and realized that Momma was waiting up for her, just like she’d done when Caroline was a teenager.

“Hey, Momma,” she said as she closed the door behind her.

“Honey, I was all prepared to give you a deep down apology for what happened at today’s kiss-off. I mean Dash was supposed to buy up your kisses, and I’m furious at him for letting that Englishman get the better of him.”

“But?” Caroline added at the end of Momma’s speech.

“Honey, that foreigner only bought two hours of your time.”

“I know. But he was a real good kisser.”

“Oh, honey, no. He’s not for you.”

“You think I don’t know that?” The words came out wobbly, and Caroline turned and headed down the hallway toward her room. She was being so silly about this. Really. She hardly knew the guy, and kisses were not everything in life. And Cinderella was an old, worn-out myth. Really she needed to be patient and wait for her regular guy to arrive.

Momma followed her down the hall. “Honey, everyone’s talking about this. You danced every dance with him. You were… well, I’m not going to repeat the ugly things Lillian said even though Lillian thinks this
Englishman walks on water. Apparently his being a lord only takes him so far.”

“Momma, I kissed him a few times, and you can argue that he bought those kisses. As for the dancing, well, he went to cotillion classes as a kid, and let’s face it, Dash is a terrible dancer.”

“So you still like Dash.”

Caroline gritted her teeth. This was not a good time to clue Momma into the whole Lasso Fiasco. “I’ve known Dash all my life,” she said.

“Good. I’m so relieved. Tomorrow you and Dash need to be seen around town together, maybe go to the demolition derby together, you know. This talk about you and the Englishman, well, I don’t think your daddy or your brothers like it much.”

“Momma, you don’t have to worry about me and the Englishman. We just danced is all.”

“All right. I’m glad we had this talk, honey.” Momma gathered Caroline into her warm embrace, filled with the scent of the lavender body lotion she always wore.

Caroline always felt safe in Momma’s arms. She loved her parents deeply. She knew good and well that having any kind of fling with the Englishman who’d come to buy up Daddy’s land was something she could never do, even if he were The One that Miriam had forecast for her.

Which he wasn’t.

Too bad her libido didn’t believe in Miriam Randall and her forecasts.

Senator Warren’s phone call awakened Caroline at eight-thirty the next morning. Early phone calls from the senator were not unusual. On any given workday,
Caroline was likely to be up at five-thirty and heading to the gym. The senator often called her before breakfast.

But Caroline had gotten in really late the night before, and everyone had decided to let her sleep in.

Except her boss.

“Senator,” she said in a rusty voice after she fumbled for her phone and pressed the talk button. “What can I do for you?”

“I’ve decided to let Cissy help Lord Woolham.”

“What?” Caroline’s brain kicked into gear.

He chuckled. “Don’t sound so surprised. The truth is, she’s come up with an excellent plan for salvaging the situation.”

A strange, confusing emotion darted through her. She didn’t quite like the idea of Cissy being the one to help Hugh with his quest. “What plan?” she asked, her voice sounding just a little too urgent.

“Oh, she’s hooking up with Hugh for breakfast this morning, and the two of them are going to make the rounds of all the local officials. I think they were also going to visit with Cissy’s sorority friend, whatshername—Hettie Johnson?”

“Hettie
Marshall
.” Caroline sat up and threw her feet over the side of the bed, confusion resolving itself into serious concern. The last thing she wanted was Cissy Warren talking to Hettie.

Hettie had to be handled carefully. After all, it looked like her husband, the largest employer in the county, was up to no good. And a person like Cissy, who talked without thinking, could really upset the balance of things in Last Chance. “What time were they going to meet with her, do you know?”

“Um, no, I don’t. Is there a problem?”

“Yes, Senator, there are multiple problems here. The land Hugh bought is a wetlands, and he’s going to have to get permits to develop it, even if my father agrees to sell the golf course. And the woman he’s going to meet with is the chair of the Committee to Resurrect Golfing for God, in addition to being the wife of the man who sold Hugh the wetlands in the first place. For an inflated price, I might add.”

“I had no idea.” He sounded concerned now, too.

“Senator, this could be a real touchy situation.”

“I’m so sorry. I should have checked with you before giving her the green light, but you know how she can be. She’s got a real bee in her bonnet about this fellow. I didn’t want to discourage her. I mean he’s precisely the kind of man I’d like to see Cissy settle down with, if you know what I mean.”

“Yes. I do.” And of course, that was the difference between what Senator Warren expected of his daughter and what Caroline’s parents expected of her.

Not to mention the whole Miriam Randall forecast.

“So,” the senator said, “would you mind finding them and making sure Cissy doesn’t put her foot in it? And while you’re at it, if you could play matchmaker, that would be a huge help.”

Yeah, it probably would. Cissy had enough money to fund just about any project Hugh could dream up. Which meant they were probably made for each other.

“Sure,” she said, but her voice lacked enthusiasm.

The senator chuckled. “I know you’re not a matchmaker. But you have been known to work miracles from time to time.”

“I don’t make miracles. Only God does that, Senator.”

“Well, you could give Him a run for the money. Which is the other reason I’m calling—I need you to hurry up and get this problem with the factory taken care of because Andrea has tendered her resignation. It was waiting on my desk this morning when I got in. I guess she’s decided to run off to Montana and marry that cowboy sooner rather than later. So it looks like I need an administrative assistant in Washington before the election. I know you’ve wanted that job for a long time.”

Caroline’s heart skipped around her chest. “Uh, yes, I have.”

“Well, I’m about to make your dream come true, and I’m going to give you a ten percent raise to go along with the new responsibilities. But I need you in DC just as soon as you can get there. Andrea wants to be on a plane to Big Sky country in two weeks.”

“Senator, I’m so—”

“Just say yes, Caroline.”

“Yes. Yes, yes, yes.” She was so relieved. Apparently getting pulled off a parade float by a demented cowboy had not wrecked her career. Now she just needed to be professional, handle Cissy and Hettie carefully, and she’d be in Washington before the month was out.

“Good,” the senator said. “I need you in DC. Now you go fix that problem for that Englishman and see if you can give Cissy some help corralling him. Then get on back here to Columbia and start packing your bags.”

After disconnecting with the senator, Caroline made one call to Miriam Randall that netted a wealth of information. Cissy had shown up early, roused Hugh out of bed, and taken him off to the Kountry Kitchen for
breakfast. They had a meeting scheduled with Hettie Marshall at 9:00 a.m.

Caroline didn’t have a minute to spare. She threw on one of her suits, pulled her hair back into a ponytail, and headed out to the home Jimmy and Hettie had built on a rise of rolling farmland just north of the town limits.

She pulled Stone’s beat-up pickup onto the long, circular drive, took one look at the big antebellum monstrosity, and immediately felt out of her league. The shiny red Corvette parked in the drive didn’t make her feel any more sure of herself.

Cissy Warren’s car was preemo-cool. Hugh was sure to lust after it, which was all for the good. He needed Cissy. Cissy wanted him. And Caroline needed her job.

Of course, how she was going to sort through that muddle to make sure that Last Chance got a factory remained to be seen. One thing was for certain—Hugh and Cissy could really screw things up for Hettie. The Queen Bee might not know what her husband was up to. And someone had to break that news gently.