Wild Cowboy Ways (22 page)

A
llie woke up with the determination that she would not go to church and she would not have Sunday dinner with her family. She planned a shopping trip to Wichita Falls where she would check out all the after-holiday sales and maybe take in an afternoon matinee.

She went through six outfits that morning before finally settling on a long straight skirt in brown and beige chevron stripes and a sweater the same color as her eyes. She curled her hair and applied makeup, glanced at herself in the mirror, and decided she was entirely too bland. She traipsed across the landing to Fiona's room and rifled through the accessories she'd left in her closet. She tried on a pretty scarf but the damn thing choked her. Finally, she settled on a heavy gold necklace with a set of crossed pistols, covered with sparkling fake diamonds.

“Making a statement, are you?” Lizzy said from the doorway.

“Dressing up a ho-hum look,” Allie answered.

Lizzy's smile was actually sweet that morning. “I hope you've finally seen the light and those pistols are a sign that you're ready to shoot the cowboy next door.”

Allie whipped around so fast that she dropped the scarf she'd tried on. “Why would you say that?”

Lizzy hugged Allie. “I heard about what happened yesterday morning and I was right. Blake was just leading you on.”

Allie changed the subject. “You look pretty this morning. Red has always been your color.”

Lizzy smoothed the front of the red sweater dress. “I came to borrow a scarf from Fiona to dress down all this red. It's kind of loud for a preacher's wife, don't you think?”

Allie brushed past her on the way out of the room. “You already toned it down with those black leggings and boots. If you really wanted to look like a hussy, you could have worn fishnet hose and spike heels. And you'd better remember to put whatever you borrow right back where it was. I'm pretty sure that Fiona takes inventory every time she comes home.”

“How we could all three have the same parents is a complete mystery,” Lizzy said. “Oh, yeah, I invited Grady and Mitch to Sunday dinner. Mama said she's invited the neighbors. I figure it will be a good time for you to see the difference between a man of God and a wild cowboy.”

Allie bit her lip to keep from smarting off, but she did touch the pistols and wish for one second that they fired real bullets and that God would look the other way. If she didn't go to church, Blake would think she was running from him. If she did go, she'd have to endure the business of talking to him as well as Grady. Lord, why did life have to be so complicated?

She still hadn't made up her mind what she was going to do when she reached the foyer. Granny sat ramrod straight in the chair beside the foyer table. She was dressed in a cute little navy blue pantsuit and her shoes matched. Her hair was combed back in waves and her lipstick had settled into the wrinkles around her mouth.

“I don't want to go to church,” she whispered.

“Me, either. Let's run away,” Allie said softly.

“We can't. We are strong women and we don't run from our problems,” Granny said.

“What is your problem?” Allie asked.

“I forget where the bathroom is, but I can depend on you to remember, can't I?”

Allie sighed. “Yes, Granny, I will sit beside you and remember for you.”

Snowflakes drifted to land among a few dead leaves, blown in from the scrub oak trees across the street from the church that morning. Would winter never end? Allie was so ready for spring, for the sound of birds chirping instead of sleet pounding on the metal house roof, to sit on the porch swing in the evening instead of having to be inside all the time.

Allie, her mother, and grandmother had all gone together in Katy's vehicle. Lizzy had tried her best to fix it so that Allie would ride in the backseat with Grady in Mitch's truck, but Allie had sidestepped the issue by saying that she'd help with Granny.

When they reached the church, Allie manipulated it so that she sat on the end of the pew next to her grandmother. Katy was next in line and then Lizzy with Mitch beside her and Grady on the far end. Lizzy didn't spare a bit on the dirty looks, but Allie could endure those if she didn't have to sit beside Grady.

She glanced over her shoulder after the announcements were made and the preacher was making his way from the short deacon's bench to the pulpit. Deke, Toby, and Blake were all sitting in the back pew. It was the first time that antsy feeling hadn't forewarned her that he was in close proximity. Did that mean that whatever they had—friendship, relationship, or one-night fling—was over?

Deke waved.

Toby smiled and nodded.

Blake looked straight ahead.

She whipped back around and from that moment, the preacher might as well have been reading the dictionary because Allie didn't hear a single word.

Like a record playing on a loop, she kept hearing that television commercial from a year ago. It advertised a dating site and said that love didn't come first, but like did. She argued with it, saying that it was a little late for that since she and Blake had already had sex. But the damn commercial took on a life of its own and fought with her.

Sex, like, and love are three different things,
it said.

That stumped her train of thought completely as she analyzed the statement and decided it was right. Sex, like what Deke and Toby had Friday night or what she and Blake had on Friday afternoon, was a very different thing from like or love.

But what about the sex Blake and I had? What does that mean?
She didn't get an answer from the commercial or from the preacher who was preaching from Psalms Twenty-three that morning.

She liked Blake as a person, as a hardworking rancher, but she was not going to be the friend who hopped over the fence for booty calls whenever Blake wanted a quick romp in the hay. If that's what he wanted, he could call his ex-wife, Scarlett, to warm up his bed.

She folded her hands in her lap and tried to listen to the preacher. It didn't work because within seconds, she was back to the argument. She'd followed her heart when she married Riley and intended to be his wife until death parted them. But she'd learned after two years that physical death wasn't the only way to end a marriage. It could simply die in its sleep or it could be murdered by a two-timin' husband.

That antsy feeling that said someone was staring at her made her look over her shoulder. Blake's lips curled into a smile when their gazes locked and held for several seconds. When she started to turn back around, she caught Grady's gaze from the other end of the pew. It had the intensity of a hungry hound chasing a rabbit and made her skin crawl.

Trust my heart when it failed me? Trust my sister's advice when it makes me want to run for the hills? Maybe I should simply forget all about men and become a nun. I bet a convent could use my skills as a carpenter.

If the pistols resting between her breasts could have fired for-real bullets, Allie would have aimed, fired, blown away the smoke, and toted her sister's lifeless body out to the back side of the twenty acres known as Audrey's Place for the buzzards to feast upon when the family got back to Audrey's after church.

Damn Lizzy's sorry ass to hell for eternity. Allie didn't even care that she was damning a soon-to-be preacher's wife or that the little dinner place cards done up with pictures of hearts were a right cute idea. She was sitting smack dab between Grady and Blake and Lizzy had done the planning.

Every ugly deed does have its comeuppance. Lizzy got hers because the only place left for her to sit was between generic old Mitch and hotter'n the devil's little forked tail Toby Dawson. It would serve her sister right to be as miserable as she was.

Her mother sat at one end of the table. Granny sat at the other end and on each side there was a sister between two men. If that didn't set Granny off into a cussin' fit or else send her back to talking about Walter nothing could.

“Nice to have a full table today.” Granny picked up the basket of hot rolls, put two on her plate, and passed them to her right. “Lizzy, why are you sitting between a preacher man and a hot cowboy? Are you trying to figure out which one you like best?” She leaned forward and whispered. “I'd take the hot cowboy. He'll be more fun.”

It was as if someone pushed a
MUTE
button. One second conversation flowed, then presto, everything went quiet. The silence was every bit as deafening as it had been over at the Lucky Penny when that hussy announced that she was Blake's wife.

Toby finally broke the awkward silence. “Did you make these biscuits, Miz Irene? They taste just like my granny's and everyone loves hers down around Muenster.”

“Muenster…Texas or Oklahoma? Where is that place? Is that where the Amish people live? We ain't of the Amish faith, not that there's anything wrong with that if you are. Mitch, here, has some of that in his blood, don't you, Mitch?” Irene said.

“No, ma'am. Not me,” Mitch said quickly. “I'm all for keeping the word of God but I do like electricity and modern plumbing.”

“Hmmm.” Irene pursed her lips. “Way you treat Lizzy, I figured you'd come from one of those strict religions. Oh, well, here you go.” She passed the green beans to Toby. “They're real good. Katy cooks them with lots of bacon and onions.”

“Thank you,” Toby said.

Allie caught Lizzy's sharp intake of breath when Toby passed the bowl off to her. She took out a heaping helping of beans and gave them to Mitch. And nothing happened when Mitch's fingers deliberately covered Lizzy's: zilch, nada, nothing at all. So the sexy cowboy did affect Lizzy. Yes, sir, paybacks were definitely a bitch.

Before the beans made it to her, Grady slipped his hand on her thigh and squeezed as he whispered, “You look lovely today. I like you all dressed up much better than in those ugly cargo pants. You should do it more often.”

Zilch. Nada. Nothing at all, other than a major irritation until she picked up his hand and put it back in his lap. “Thank you but I'm much more comfortable in my work clothes.”

“Why are you talking about britches at the Sunday dinner table?” Granny asked. “In my day, ladies wore dresses and they only put on britches to ride horses or do chores outside on the farm.”

Blake's knee pressed against hers and his simple touch jacked her blood pressure way on up there. She felt like Abigail in her favorite LaVyrle Spencer novel,
Hummingbird.
The sensible choice was the man Abigail was nursing back to health in the downstairs part of her house. But the one that made her heart sing was the bad boy upstairs with a bullet hole in his body. The one who called her Abby and set her free from the strict rules of society, the one she couldn't wait to talk to every day.

Grady called her Alora. Formal. Rigid.

Blake called her Allie. Sensible. Happy heart.

She understood the character Abby so much better that day.

“Penny for your thoughts, Allie,” Blake said.

“I'll pay a dollar for them, Alora.” Grady grinned.

Allie glanced at Lizzy. “I might sell them to the highest bidder and use the money to buy whatever is making my sister blush.”

“I'm not blushing. It's hot in here from all the cooking,” Lizzy stammered.

“Does Walter still live at the Lucky Penny?” Irene blurted out. “Has his mother died yet? I get confused about time and I can't remember if he moved.”

Allie leaned forward, ignoring both men, and said, “No, Granny, Walter moved years ago. I don't know if his mother is still living or not.”

“Probably is unless someone drove a stake through her heart. I might take a Sunday afternoon walk over there and see if Walter is still there,” she said.

“Not today, Mama. You have to stay here and chaperone the kids while I drive up to Wichita Falls for supplies. When are you moving to the ranch, Toby?” Katy asked.

“I'm hoping to be here by the first of June. With two of us and a hot summer, we should get lots done. Then our cousin, Jud, will join us about Thanksgiving time,” Toby answered.

Katy nodded. “Sounds like you've got things planned out pretty good.”

Irene shrugged. “Who were we talking about?”

“Blake's brother, Toby, the one right there.” Mitch narrowed his eyes at the elderly woman. “…Is arriving in June if Blake is still living on the Lucky Penny and their cousin will join them at Thanksgiving.”

“Don't look at me like that. We don't like each other but this is the Sunday dinner table,” Irene said, raising her voice.

Blake reached over and laid a hand on Irene's arm. “I hear that you took care of the three sisters right here in this house while Miz Katy worked. Tell me some stories.”

She gave Mitch a dirty look and smiled at Blake. “They were a handful for sure. When there's three, there's lots of whining and giggling.”

Irene's mind stayed crystal clear as she told stories from the past. Blake's laugher was genuine. Mitch's lack of even a smile showed that he was bored. When they'd finished eating, Katy brought out two pies—apple and cherry—for dessert, along with a container of ice cream and caramel topping.

“Lizzy likes her apple pie with a crown.” Irene smiled. “That's what she called it when she was a little girl and said apple pie was princess food and the ice cream was the princess's crown.”

“Me, too.” Toby nodded. “But Blake likes cherry better. He never did like apple pie. That's when the family knew for a fact there was something wrong with him. All cowboys love their mamas, pretty girls, and apple pie.”

“Two out of three ain't bad, though,” Blake said.

“Not me. Too many fat grams and calories,” Mitch said. “We'll have to watch those or we'll be as big as circus clowns, won't we, darlin'?”