The Cowboy's Mail Order Bride (20 page)

“They can’t make up their minds if they want to be with me or with y’all,” Emily answered from halfway up the staircase where she leaned against the banister.

“Y’all are up past your bedtime, aren’t you?” Greg asked.

They didn’t fool him one bit. They’d stayed up late just to check on him and Emily. They’d both pushed them together until he said they were dating, and now they worked at keeping them apart. Didn’t Nana realize that she was playing the game backward?

Clarice narrowed her eyes at him. “I thought you had a lot of emails to take care of.”

“Took care of all my stuff and heard Emily giggling at the kittens, so I came out here to see what was so funny. We’ve been talking,” he said.

Clarice sat down on the second step from the bottom. “About the auction? Who are you bidding on, Emily?”

“Oh, do I get to bid? I didn’t know the hostesses got to bid.”

“Of course you get to bid. All unmarried women who buy a ten-dollar bidding fan get to bid. You are going to buy a fan, aren’t you?”

“Haven’t decided. Who are you bidding on, Clarice?” Emily asked.

“I’m bidding on Max,” Dotty said. “I promised him that I’d buy him so that he wouldn’t have to be nice to some middle-aged woman trying to sweet-talk him into bed.”

“If you’ll pass those two wildcats up to me, I’m going to put them to bed. Tell y’all what… if I dream about Greg tonight, I’ll bid on him at the auction. If not, then I’ll stand aside and let all the other single girls have a chance at him,” Emily said.

“Good night, ladies.” Greg blew kisses to them all and disappeared into his room. He picked up his glasses and pen and started to write. His phone signaled a text message.

Emily had written:
I
need
a
letter
tonight
so
badly.

He wrote back:
Yes, ma’am. Dream about me. Please dream about me.

His pulse quickened as he thought about standing on the bidding block and watching her raise her fan to outbid the other women. He wanted to belong to her. He wanted for the whole area to know that they were together, and he wanted her to stay on Lightning Ridge forever.

He’d dreamed about her since that first night. Sometimes it was sexual and he awakened to find a pillow lying next to him and not Emily. Sometimes it was sweet, like the one last night when they’d been lying on the quilt from the attic in a field of wildflowers. She wore the pretty blue dress that she’d worn to church and she was barefoot. They pointed out the shapes that the big white fluffy clouds made in the sky like two little kids. Their bodies didn’t touch, but their hands were laced together.

He looked down at the ranch stationery and wrote,

Dearest Emily, I dream of you often. Last night…

For a town the size of Ravenna, the church fellowship hall was huge. The hostesses on the decorating committee had done a fine job of turning it into a lovely reception, complete with yards and yards of frothy white tulle and lots of pretty pink roses—silk for the most part, but then Valentine’s Day had just passed and that had probably wiped out the stock of real flowers for the whole state of Texas.

Emily remembered a line from the old movie
Steel
Magnolias
, when the mother of the bride had said that the whole church looked like it had been sprayed down with Pepto-Bismol. The bride had argued that her colors were pink and bashful!

To Emily, there wasn’t anything pink and bashful about it. It really did look like a coating of Pepto-Bismol. The multitiered cake was even topped with pink satin roses.

“What is my job?” Emily asked Clarice.

“You will hand the bride the gifts when she is ready to open them. She’ll sit in that chair under the canopy with Tommy right beside her. You’ll hand them to her. One of her friends will write down who gave the present and what it is so that she can write proper thank-you notes. And then you will take the present to the display table and arrange it real pretty so that all us fussy old women can make the proper noises about them after they’re all opened,” Clarice answered.

“It’s a shitty job, but somebody has to do it,” Dotty whispered out the side of her mouth.

Emily loved Dotty.

“But why can’t one of her other friends do that?” Emily asked.

“Because it is a hostess’s job,” Clarice said. “Just think, someday you’ll be sitting under the canopy and opening presents.”

Emily shuddered. She might get married someday, but she damn sure did not want a reception that resembled a high school prom.

Dotty patted her on the shoulder. “Words aren’t even necessary.”

Yep, Emily loved Dotty.

“When do my duties start?” Emily asked Clarice.

“When the bride and groom get here, they’ll make the rounds and visit for a little while, then they’ll open presents and after that we will serve refreshments. Tonight it’s wedding cake and a chocolate groom’s cake, plus an assortment of tiny little cheesecakes that Rose makes for these occasions and punch, lemonade, and coffee,” Clarice said.

“So I’ve got time to go to the ladies’ room?”

Clarice touched her arm. “Sure you do.”

The ladies’ bathroom had been recently redecorated and still smelled like paint and wallpaper paste. Emily had hoped it would be a one-potty room with a lock on the door, but no such luck. There were three stalls, double sinks on one wall, and an old-fashioned vanity with a velvet bench already pulled out and waiting for the ladies to check their makeup in the three-way mirror.

She sat down with her back to the mirrors and heard a noise. Her feet rose off the tile floor six inches as she checked every available corner for a mouse. God, she hated mice. Even the little white babies in the pet store gave her a case of hives.

Bocephus and Simba had better be good mousers or she would throw them out in the barn so their less fortunate siblings could teach them what cats did with those scary critters. She didn’t see a thing but heard a whimper coming from the last stall.

“Hello,” she said softly.

“Go away,” a voice answered.

Emily lowered her feet back to the floor. Thank God it was a woman in distress and not a mouse who might run up the side of her cowgirl boot and fall down inside to touch her leg. She’d have to throw a two-hundred-dollar pair of boots in the trash if a damned old mouse touched them.

“Are you okay?” Emily whispered.

“No.”

“Can I help?”

A movement made Emily lean forward. Two white satin high-heeled shoes were visible. “Prissy?” she asked.

“What?” the voice asked.

“It’s Emily. Open the door and tell me why you are crying.”

“Emily? Really?” Prissy asked.

“In the flesh, cowboy boots and all, but I did wear a dress so I don’t look too much like a man,” Emily said.

Another sob.

“You’re going to be a mess for your reception if you don’t stop caterwaulin’,” Emily said. “Come out here and let’s talk.”

She sounded like a sick calf, one that was about half-dead and the other half starving. Emily tried the door, but it was locked from the inside. If she died in there, she was on her own. Emily wasn’t going to kick in the door or drag her body out into the church sanctuary for someone to try to resuscitate her. She was responsible for Tonya and all those other women on the online dating service, not to mention all those sticky notes that were starting to accumulate again on the refrigerator.

Prissy’s face showed above the stall before anything else could be seen. Emily figured she’d look like hammered rat shit after all that blubbering, but other than a little makeup mishap, she looked like a runway model in her cute little white brocade dress with long sleeves.

“If someone comes in the door, I’m going right back inside,” she declared.

Emily pushed the vanity bench in front of the door and sat down on one end. “I reckon if you’ll sit right there, it would take a couple of good strong cowboys to budge that door.”

Prissy sat down and leaned forward, elbows on knees, head in hands. “I made one hell of a mistake, Emily. I hate living on a ranch. I’m not a rancher’s wife. I don’t like boots and I hate cows. And there are presents in that room and a freakin’ cake and Tommy is about to bust the buttons off his shirt and I don’t want to be married to a rancher.”

“And the whole place looks like it’s been sprayed down with Pepto-Bismol,” Emily said.

Prissy raised her head and sniffled, but a smile did tickle the corners of her mouth. “I remember that show very well. Julia Roberts said that her colors were bashful and blush. It was the only thing about the whole movie that I hated because I absolutely hate pink. It’s what petite little girls wear, not giants like me. Why would they put up all that fluff and pink, gawdawful pink, for my reception? Not one person asked me if I even wanted a big foo-rah! Hell, didn’t going to Vegas let them know that I didn’t?”

She inhaled deeply and went on, “I’ve always liked brown, with maybe a little yellow, and I never liked lace. Momma let Grandma give me this gawdawful name and then dressed me in pink dresses and satin hair bows until I was old enough to rebel.”

The corners of Emily’s mouth turned up in a grin. “Probably, but you got to admit pink bows do go with your name, right?”

“Oh, hush. With a name like Emily and your size, you didn’t have to worry about a freakin’ thing.”

Someone tried the doorknob and then hollered, “What’s going on in there?”

“Sorry, we’ve got a problem. Potties won’t work for at least ten minutes. Use the men’s room right across the hall,” Emily called out.

“The hell I will,” Dotty’s voice was clear. “Emily Cooper, open this door.”

“We’ve got a bride crisis, Dotty. We’ll be out in ten minutes.”

“You’d better be. There’s a bunch of old women in there drinking coffee like camels after a long march through the damn desert and they’ll be hunting a potty in a few minutes. Old women have thimble-sized bladders,” Dotty said.

Emily threw an arm around Prissy’s shoulders. “We’re on limited time. Fix your makeup while we talk.”

“I’m not going to the reception. I’m going to file for an annulment tomorrow morning. Tell them to give the presents back. I don’t need fourteen gravy boats,” Prissy said.

“You are going to grow up,” Emily said sternly.

“Don’t you talk to me like that.”

“If you feel this way then why in the hell did you marry Tommy?” Emily asked.

“I love Tommy,” Prissy answered.

Emily pointed at the mirror and the small evening bag slung over Prissy’s shoulder. “Then why are you going to annul the marriage?”

“You wouldn’t understand. You like the ranch,” she said.

“What do you do for a living, anyway?”

“I’m an accountant and I take care of all the family business from an office in downtown Bonham,” she said. “It’s really a house that Daddy bought years ago and remodeled into an office.”

“You going to keep working?” Emily asked.

“Of course.”

“And you love Tommy, right?”

Prissy nodded.

“You will be at the ranch an hour in the morning and a couple of hours in the evening. You’ll be in your own house and you probably won’t have to look at a cow except at the fall cattle sale, which you probably attend every year anyway, right?”

“Of course,” she said again.

“Then what in the hell is your problem? Suck it up! Tommy loves ranchin’. He’ll be the one on the ranch all day. You’ll be at work,” Emily said.

“I thought I could talk Tommy out of it even after we were married, but he’s not budging. I wish I would have fallen in love with Greg.” Prissy carefully retouched her makeup in the mirror above the sinks.

“Greg is a rancher, in case you haven’t noticed,” Emily said.

Prissy stopped what she was doing and stared at Emily. “Greg won’t be a rancher forever. He’s just playing at it. His momma and daddy want him to come back to Houston and work in the firm with them. It would be easy to convince him to leave Lightning Ridge.”

Emily pushed the bench back in front of the vanity and sat back down on it. “When you heard that Max was going to offer him a job, it scared you. And then Tommy called you. His ringtone is ‘Hillbilly Bone,’ isn’t it?”

Prissy applied lipstick and asked, “How did you know?”

“Did he give you an ultimatum?”

She nodded. “He said he was leaving the whole damn state if I wouldn’t marry him that weekend.”

“How’d that make you feel?”

“My stomach hurt. My heart hurt. I couldn’t breathe. It was horrible.”

Emily put her hand on the doorknob. “Even more horrible than the pink reception?”

Prissy frowned and then nodded slowly. “I do love him and I don’t have to be on that ranch all day. What was I thinking? I’m just so scared. Thank you, Emily.”

Emily hugged Prissy. “You are welcome.”

A gentle knock on the door was followed by a man’s voice. “Prissy, darlin’?”

Emily swung the door open. “We were doing some last-minute touch-ups. Hello, Tommy, I’m Emily. Y’all give me two minutes to get into the fellowship hall and then make your entrance.”

She heard Prissy say, “Tommy, I love you so much,” as she did a fast walk toward the pink reception.

***

Emily was quiet on the way home that evening and went straight to her room when they arrived. Dotty and Clarice didn’t tarry for even a minute in the den. Their bazaar things were boxed and ready to take to the barn on Friday, and they’d vowed that they were taking a monthlong break before they started on the next year’s sale items.

Greg showered, changed into lounging pants, started a letter to Emily, and tore it up after the first paragraph. Something wasn’t right. He could feel it in his heart with every single breath.

Finally, he went out onto the landing and sat down on the top step. The kittens bounded out of the door, which had been left open a crack, and attacked a toy mouse with a jingle bell attached to its long tail.

In a few minutes Emily joined him, brushing past him without so much as a sweet little kiss and settling on a step a fourth of the way down the staircase. He stretched his leg out and touched her bare arm with his toe. Her skin was as soft as silk sheets, and that idea conjured up visions that put him into semi-arousal instantly.

“You’ve been awfully quiet ever since you disappeared and barely made it back before Prissy and Tommy showed up.”

“She was in the bathroom having a meltdown, threatening to have her marriage annulled.”

“Why?”

“It happens.”

“Is that what you’ve been thinking about?”

She shook her head and told him what Prissy said about him getting tired of ranching. “Is there any truth in that?”

“Hell, no! I hate that kind of hustle and bustle. I’ll never leave the ranch, especially not for a woman.”

When she smiled his heart floated. “Not even one that has sex on a twin bed with you?”

“Are you asking me to?”

“Hell, no!” she said just as emphatically as he had. “If there was a chance you wanted to live in the city, I’d break this relationship off right now. I wouldn’t ever want to be an anchor on your ass.”

He rubbed his chin. “So we are in a relationship?”

“What would you call it?”

“Relationship sounds fine to me.”

“We’ve known each other less than three weeks and in a few more days there will be eight hours between us. You think we can survive a long-distance relationship?”

“You think that time or distance has anything to do with it?” He completely ignored the question about long distance.

She scooted up one step. “I’m walkin’ in virgin territory. It’s all new to me. I don’t know if it’s crazy to feel like this after such a short time. Maybe it’s just plain old physical attraction and lust.”

“Hot lust, sweetheart. There’s nothing plain about what goes on between us.”

She moved up another step and he moved down one. He put a leg on either side of her and draped his arms around her neck. She leaned back against his broad chest and sighed. “I like listening to your heart beat.”

“Your hair smells wonderful. Like wildflowers and roses all together in a bouquet, but that’s just you,” he said.

“What is
just
me
?”

“You are cultivated roses when you are in public, but when we are alone together you are wildflowers growing free out in the pasture. It’s a pretty heady combination, Miss Cooper.”

She looked over her shoulder. Her blue eyes would charm the horns off the devil. He wanted to be looking into them when he drew his last breath at the age of ninety.

***

Emily wiggled out of his embrace and held out her hand. “Hold me in the recliner again. I need to feel your arms around me.”

She left the door wide open so the cats could come in if they wanted, and if Dotty or Clarice snuck up on them, they wouldn’t catch them doing something that would bring embarrassment to the ranch.