Harlequin American Romance May 2014 Bundle: One Night in Texas\The Cowboy's Destiny\A Baby for the Doctor\The Bull Rider's Family (21 page)

A barrel-chested man who wore his long gray hair in a ponytail eyed Buck suspiciously before speaking to Destiny. “I thought you were marrying Daryl? Where’d you find this guy?”

“He’s a whole lot better-looking than Daryl.” A skinny man with gray sideburns and a receding hairline patted his chest beneath his cobalt-blue silk shirt.

“This is...” Destiny sent Buck a blank look.

Holy cow.
She’d forgotten his name—that had never happened to him before. Not only was his moniker memorable, but most ladies thought his face was, too. “Buck Owens Cash.”

“Buck Owens? Why Buck is one of my favorite country-and-western singers.” A blonde lady wearing a strapless rhinestone dress that pushed her wrinkled bosom up to her chin batted her eyelashes.

“Heel, Sonja.”

“Go soak your head in a bucket, Ralph,” Sonja said.

“Whoever thought to name their kid Buck Owens Cash must have been a dimwit.” A man closer in age to Buck moved to the front of the group. Dressed in a gray suit and red tie, he assessed Buck. “Is Cash your real surname or one you made up to go with your Vegas stage name?”

Stage name?
“All three names are for real, and I doubt my deceased mother would appreciate you calling her a dimwit,” Buck said.

“Knock it off, Mark. Buck’s pickup broke down near the chapel and I gave him a lift into town,” Destiny explained.

“You look very...hot.” Sonja handed him a bottled water.

“Thank you, ma’am.” Buck guzzled the drink.

“Where’s Daryl?”

“What happened?”

“How come you’re late?”

Questions were fired at Destiny from all directions, and she raised her hands in surrender. “Daryl was a no-show.”

An elderly man with grizzled cheeks dressed in polyester slacks and a plaid dress shirt appeared at Destiny’s side. He tapped his finger against what appeared to be a toy sheriff’s badge pinned to his shirt. “Want me to bring him in?”

Was this guy for real?

“Thank you for your concern, everyone, but I’d rather Daryl have changed his mind about marrying me now than after we tied the knot.”

The redhead didn’t act the least bit heartbroken, which Buck found hard to accept. Then again a woman who sported a lizard tattoo and biceps muscles was probably as tough on the inside as she appeared on the outside.

“Violet.” Destiny removed her veil and handed it to a lady with blue hair. “I’m sorry I wasn’t able to break the curse.”

What curse?

“Never mind, dear,” Violet said. “I shouldn’t have loaned it out. I probably passed my bad luck on to you.”

“Good Lord, Violet.” A woman standing by the piano spoke. “That wedding veil has made a dozen trips down the aisle and not one of those marriages lasted more than a few years.”

“Eleven, and none of the divorces were my fault.” Violet winked at Buck. “Can’t help it if I’m attracted to bad boys.”

Buck felt his face heat up.

Destiny came to his rescue. “No need to let all this food and drink go to waste.”

“We never celebrated Destiny’s mayoral win,” the sheriff said. “We should turn this into a victory party.”

The biker chick was the mayor of Lizard Gulch?

“Three cheers for Destiny!”

Hoots and hollers echoed through the bar then folks crowded the buffet table, loading their Chinet plates with every kind of casserole known to mankind.

Someone pushed him toward the food line. “Go eat.”

He did as he was told, then stood in the corner and watched Destiny make the rounds, chatting with her constituents and listening to their complaints and concerns as if she really cared.

“Is this your first time in Lizard Gulch?” Mr. Suit-and-Tie held out his hand. “Mark Mitchell.”

After he shook Mitchell’s hand, Buck said, “Until a few minutes ago I wasn’t aware the town existed.”

“Lizard Gulch used to be a lively place in its day.”

“And when was that?”
A century ago?

“Five decades of prosperity before the Interstate took all the traffic north of the town. Lizard Gulch was a popular overnight stop on the old Route 66.” He pointed to a lady a few feet away, whose shoulder-length black bob looked like a wig. “Melba’s parents ran the Flamingo Resort. Travelers stopped here on their way to California, because the motel had an outdoor pool and slide for kids.” Mitchell wiped his brow with a napkin. “Once they finished construction of the Interstate, people drove straight through to California.”

“I’m surprised the town wasn’t abandoned.” How did anyone make a living? Then again, the average age in the saloon had to be sixtysomething. Maybe they were all retired.

“The town sat vacant for years. When Melba’s husband died, she quit her job as a bank teller in Kingman, then took his insurance money and renovated the Flamingo. Turned the parking lot into a mobile home park and invited friends to visit. Her friends told their friends and before you knew it the place filled up with old farts.”

Buck eyed the bride. Why would a young woman want to live with all these gray heads? “How long has Destiny lived here?”

“About a year.”

“Stop hogging the newcomer.” The guy wearing the disco shirt slipped his arm through Buck’s and squeezed his biceps. “We haven’t had a cowboy as handsome as you come through town in...
forever.
”

“Enrick’s one of those homosexuals, but you probably already figured that out,” Mitchell said.

Buck choked on a swallow of water.

“It’s called being gay, Mark.” Enrick motioned to the big man with the ponytail. “Frank’s my partner. We met at a pastry competition in Phoenix and it was love at first sight.”

Buck barely heard Enrick drone on about his partner—Destiny had caught his attention. She’d taken the pins out of her hair and long fiery locks cascaded down the back of her white leather vest. She was nothing like the women he normally dated. Maybe that weekend rodeo in Flagstaff wasn’t so important after all.

“Where are you from?” Mitchell asked.

“Stagecoach. Small town southeast of Yuma.”

Enrick leaned in and sniffed Buck’s neck. “You smell good. What cologne are you wearing?”

Buck inched sideways, inserting an extra foot of space between himself and lover boy. “I can’t remember.”

“I’ve never cheated on Frank—” Enrick sighed dramatically “—but right now I really wish I was single.”

Frank made his way through the crowd toward Enrick and Buck. “Quit pestering the guest,” he said as he turned Enrick toward the buffet table. “Go eat. You’re too skinny.”

“I just love how you worry about me.” Enrich stood on tiptoe and kissed Frank’s cheek then was off to join a group of gossiping women.

“Sorry about that,” Frank said. “He comes on a bit strong.”

No kidding.

“You’re not gay, but watch yourself with Enrick. He has a way of making a man think twice about his sexuality.” Frank walked off, leaving Buck shaking his head not knowing what to think.

The sheriff wheeled a cart carrying a wedding cake across the floor and everyone oohed and ahhed over the green frosting lizards crawling up the white monstrosity. A plastic bride and groom riding a motorcycle sat on the top tier.

“This is beautiful, Frank.” Destiny hugged the pastry chef.

“The lizards were my idea.” Enrick beamed.

Frank wielded the knife. “Who wants a piece?”

After all the guests were served, Destiny brought Buck a slice. “Wild bunch, aren’t they?” She smiled fondly at the group.

He kept his opinion to himself and sampled the cake. “Hey, this is good.” When he finished the dessert, he asked, “Is the town mechanic here?”

“No.”

“I’d better head to the garage and talk to him about my truck. Thanks again for the lift.” Buck handed Destiny his empty cake plate then left the bar. As he walked down the middle of the street he noticed a cemetery tucked behind the miniature golf course. Three marked graves occupied the plot. A sign on the gate read Ghost Tours Daily at Dusk.

A shiver racked his body when he stopped and looked back at the saloon. The people in there hadn’t been ghosts, had they? Shaking his head, he continued to the garage, wondering if he’d just landed in
The Twilight Zone.

Chapter Two

Destiny braced herself when Mark Mitchell, the
former
mayor of Lizard Gulch, approached her. The sleazy lawyer found satisfaction in others’ misery and she’d love to slap that condescending grin off his face.

“So...I wonder why Daryl didn’t show up at the chapel?”

“I guess he decided he didn’t love me enough to marry me.” Too bad she wasn’t heartbroken over being jilted.

“You know,” Mitchell said, “if there were opportunities to make a decent living in this town, he might have taken a chance on you.”

Money had never been an issue between her and Daryl. He did his thing and she did hers. When they could coordinate their schedules they hung out together.

“There’s time to win Daryl back. All you have to do is convince your constituents to take the deal Wyndell Resorts is offering.” Mitchell’s grin widened. “Once you have all that money in your pretty little hands, your fiancé will come running back.”

Mitchell had arrived in town a year ago, claiming he was searching for a place to retire. She hadn’t bought the lie—a man in his late thirties was too young to be thinking about retirement, but he’d sweet-talked the residents into believing he was a nice guy before he’d convinced them that the town needed a mayor. Of course he’d insisted he was the man for the job. The five-member town council swore him in as mayor and thirty days later Mitchell presented a proposal from a land developer who wanted to buy the town and replace it with a resort and golf course.

The issue divided the town—half wanted to sell, the other half insisted the developer shove his proposal where the sun didn’t shine. Destiny sided with the
shovers.

“What if I don’t want Daryl back?” She sipped her water.

“Think of all the things you could buy with the money Jack Custer is offering.”

Even though the town was torn over the buyout offer, the residents had all agreed that Mitchell had misrepresented himself. The council recalled him as mayor then selected Destiny to replace him. The very next day she’d driven to Phoenix and had met with Wyndell Properties. Custer had treated her like a petulant child, sending her back to Lizard Gulch with a new offer to present to everyone.

When Destiny explained Custer’s proposal—a $75,000 per person payout—those in favor of saving the town snubbed their noses at the money and those in favor of selling wanted to sign on the dotted line right then and there.

The town was at an impasse with Destiny caught in the middle. As mayor she represented every resident, but she hated to see the buildings bulldozed. The residents had welcomed her with open arms and she considered all of them her family. That family would dissolve if Custer got his way.

Now that she was pregnant, it was more important than ever that she change the minds of those siding with Wyndell Resorts. She refused to raise her child the way she’d been brought up—traveling from one place to the next. Living in public restrooms and truck stops. Eating in soup kitchens. Destiny had never attended school. Waitresses at various truck stops had taught her to read and write, and after she’d run away and the Carters had become her foster parents, Sylvia Carter had homeschooled her. Eventually, she’d earned her GED—an accomplishment she was very proud of. Yet a GED did little to help her fight off bullies like Mark Mitchell and Jack Custer.

“You know,” Mitchell said. “Maybe Daryl got a better offer from another girl?”

Destiny wouldn’t put it past the lawyer to have paid her fiancé to ditch her at the church just because he was miffed she’d thrown a monkey wrench into his plans. She was well aware that Mitchell would earn a handsome bonus if he closed the deal between the land developer and the residents of Lizard Gulch.

“Don’t be such a donkey butt, Mitchell.” Melba slid her arm through Destiny’s. “The poor girl’s heart has just been broken.”

“My heart will be fine.” Destiny squeezed the older woman’s veiny hand. If she had any remorse about Daryl’s abandonment, it was for their baby. Her mother had never talked about Destiny’s father and always brushed aside her questions about him, suggesting she hadn’t known which of her customers had fathered her child. Whether or not Daryl chose to be involved in their baby’s life was up to him, but she’d make sure her son or daughter knew who his or her father was.

“I think Violet’s looking for you, Mark,” Melba said. After Mitchell walked off, she asked, “Where did that handsome cowboy go?”

Well, shoot.
Destiny had forgotten that Buck Owens Cash was waiting at the garage. “I better leave. I need to fire up the wrecker and tow his pickup.”

“You two stop in later,” Melba said. “We’ll be here all night.”

Destiny slipped out the back door, walked past the cemetery and came up behind Carter Towing and Repair. She climbed the fire escape to the apartment above the garage and entered the one-bedroom dwelling. The place needed major renovations. She’d like to paint the walls, replace the linoleum flooring and install a shower in the bathroom, but with a baby on the way, her money would be better spent on a crib, car seat, diapers, clothes and a million other things.

In the bedroom she stripped to her skivvies and changed into her work jeans and her favorite Arizona Cardinals T-shirt. She secured her long hair in an elastic band then shoved her ponytail through the opening at the back of her Diamondbacks baseball cap. Lastly, she tugged on a pair of thick socks and stuffed her feet into her work boots. Simon Carter had taught Destiny the ins and outs of the towing business, including the importance of wearing steel-toed boots. Safety was her number one priority—even more so now that a child would be depending on her in seven months.

Truck keys in hand, she paused in front of the mirror to check her reflection—she’d never really cared what she looked like before. Why now? Maybe because Buck was unlike any guy she’d dated in the past.

For a girl who was supposed to get married today you’ve moved on pretty quick.

Destiny had no experience with boy-next-door types—they normally passed her over. But when Buck turned those warm brown eyes on her, she could almost believe that he saw something in her worth his time.

You’re pregnant.

She cursed the voice in her head. She didn’t need her subconscious to remind her that she was carrying another man’s baby and that any guy in his right mind would steer clear of her. So be it, but she was entitled to her dreams, and it had been longer than she remembered since she’d fantasized about any man including Daryl.

She left the apartment and walked to the front of the building where Buck sat on the bench outside the office door. If only there was more than a broken hose wrong with his truck. She couldn’t think of a better-looking distraction than the cowboy hanging around town for a few days.

As soon as he noticed her, he flashed his sexy white grin. Then his gaze roamed over her outfit and the smile vanished. “I thought you were celebrating your mayoral win?”

She shoved her fingers into the front pockets of her jeans. “They’re celebrating without me.”

“Do you know where—” he glanced at the side of the garage “—Mr. Carter is?”

“There is no Mr. Carter.”

He removed his Stetson and ran his fingers through his shaggy hair. “I thought you said—”

“Simon Carter is deceased. I named the business after him.”

“
You
named the business?”

Destiny spread her arms wide. “I run the garage.”

His eyebrows arched.

“What?”

“You’re the tow truck driver?”

“I’m also a decent mechanic.”

Buck stared at Destiny, his mind trying to reconcile the redheaded biker bride with the tomboy standing before him in ragged jeans, a faded T-shirt and men’s boots. In all the years he’d worked in Troy Winters’s garage, not once had he run into a woman who knew car engines. Go figure the one time his truck breaks down a woman mechanic comes to his rescue.

“You don’t believe me, do you?” she said.

“I’ve never met a lady mechanic before.”

Her baby blues narrowed, as if she expected him to sling insults at her.

“How did you become interested in fixing cars?” he asked.

Tiny wrinkles formed across her tanned forehead. “Would you rather stand here and chat or do you want me to tow your truck?”

“Where do you plan to tow it?”

“Wherever you want. Kingman or...here.”

He heard the hitch in her voice when she said the word
here.
Kingman was a safe bet—but maybe it was time he rolled the dice.

“If you’ve got replacement hoses in stock, it would be quicker to fix the truck here,” he said.

Destiny paced a few feet away, leaving a trail of scented perfume in her wake. “It’ll be a hundred dollars for the tow and a hundred for parts and labor.”

The sassy little mechanic wanted to rip him off. “That’s highway robbery.” Troy charged his customers twenty bucks for a new hose and fifty for labor, but he doubted Destiny got many customers this far out in the desert. He couldn’t blame her for making the most of the opportunities that came her way.

“Have you ever had the hoses in your truck changed before?” She crossed her arms over her chest—she was cute when she got all feisty.

“No.” He wanted to see how much she actually knew about engines. “This is the first time I’ve had a leaky hose.” His gut tightened at the lie, but he kept a straight face. “Where’s your wrecker?”

“This way.”

He followed her behind the building then stopped dead in his tracks when he noticed the vehicle. Holy cow—the thing was a monster and in pristine condition. He watched Destiny climbed into the cab, admiring her athleticism as she hopped onto the running plate, took hold of the bar behind the driver’s seat and hoisted herself into the cab.

He got in on the passenger side and shut the door. “What year is this?”

“It’s a 2007 freightliner with a 12,000 pound integrated wheel lift, two 15,000 pound planetary winches and a Mercedes 250 HP engine.” She quirked an eyebrow. “Any more questions?”

“This machine won’t have a problem towing my Ford.”

Like a pro, Destiny fired up the wrecker, shifted gear and drove onto Gulch Road.

“What’s the deal with only three people buried in the cemetery?” he asked when the truck passed the burial ground.

“Melba says—”

“Who’s Melba again?”

“She owns the Flamingo.” Destiny waved at a man standing outside his mobile home next to the motel. “Back before Melba was born and her parents managed the property, there was a woman in town named Maisy Richards and she was engaged to a Victor Candor. Before the wedding took place, a stranger named Antonio Torres showed up in town and fell hard for Maisy.”

“A love triangle,” Buck said.

“Victor caught Antonio stealing a kiss from Maisy and threatened to kill him.”

“Did Antonio go to the police?”

“No. Antonio waited for Victor to show up at his motel room and when he did, Antonio drew his gun and they shot each other dead.”

“What happened to Maisy?”

“She hung herself from the tree that stands in the cemetery. Witnesses say she wanders through town after midnight calling for her lovers.”

Buck laughed out loud. “That sounds made up.”

Destiny shrugged.

“Have you heard Maisy call her beaus?”

“No, but there’s rumors that people who stayed at the motel after the murders complained about hearing gunshots in the middle of the night.”

“Interesting.”

Destiny slowed the wrecker as she navigated a bend in the road.

Buck was amazed a woman her size handled the truck with such confidence. He’d never met a female quite like Destiny—she was a puzzle he wouldn’t mind solving.

“What’s the matter?”

“Nothing,” he said. “Just thinking.”

“Has anyone ever told you that you look mad when you think?”

He relaxed his facial muscles. “I don’t get how you can go from being left at the altar to towing my truck without missing a beat. Most girls would be bawling their eyes out and inconsolable.”

“I’m not most girls.”

That was for damn sure.

“I’ve had my share of disappointments and it began early in my life.” Her fingers clenched the steering wheel. “Guess I’ve developed a thick skin.” She slowed the wrecker when she passed the Ford then checked her mirrors and made a U-turn before merging onto the shoulder of the road in front of his truck. “This will only take a minute.”

No way was he waiting in the cab. He had to see the pint-sized mechanic in action. “Can I help?”

“Sure.”

“Tell me what to do.”

“Stay out of my way.” She lowered the boom arm in the back of the wrecker then attached the wire cable from the tow winch to the front end of his pickup. In less than ten minutes she had his vehicle secured on the flatbed and ready to haul.

“I’m impressed.” And he meant it. “Where did you learn to drive a wrecker?”

“Simon Carter. He showed up one night to tow an abandoned car beneath an overpass in Phoenix and found me sleeping inside.”

“How old were you?”

“Thirteen.”

Holy smokes.
“Why were you hiding in an abandoned car?”

Destiny started the engine, and after she pulled onto the road, she said, “I don’t like to talk about my childhood.”

“That makes two of us.” His comment drew a sharp look from her, but she didn’t prod him for details.

“Back to my original question, how—”

She glared at him.

“You don’t have to tell me about your childhood. I just want to know how you ended up in a broken-down car beneath an overpass.”

“I hitched a ride into Phoenix with a trucker and he dropped me off there. When Simon found me, he offered to call the police, but I refused, so he took me home with him and fed me.”

“How old was Simon?”

“Sixty. Sylvia, his wife, is a sweet lady. She insisted I sleep in their guest bedroom. The next morning I expected social services to pick me up, but Simon and Sylvia said I could live with them until I figured out what my next move was.”

“Generous people.”

“Sylvia offered to homeschool me, and when I had free time I went out on calls with Simon in the wrecker.” She shrugged. “After a few months they asked if they could adopt me and I said yes.”