Heart of Texas Series Volume 1: Lonesome Cowboy\Texas Two-Step\Caroline's Child (29 page)

“It's not that.” She wore a puzzled frown. “I'm just wondering if there's something in the air, because I received two invitations in one hour.”

It was time the men in this town woke up and realized what a wonderful woman Nell Bishop was. “That's great!”

“First Grady Weston phoned. Now, I like Grady, don't get me wrong, but I've always thought of him as...” Again she hesitated, as if unsure what to say next. “I just don't see Grady and me as a couple. If he's going to ask anyone, it should be Caroline Daniels. Those two are perfect for each other.”

So Ellie wasn't the only one who'd noticed. “I've always wondered what's kept them apart.”

Nell shook her head. “I can't figure it out.”

“Do you think it's Maggie?” Ellie asked, referring to Caroline's five-year-old daughter.

“I can't imagine why.”

“I don't think Grady's comfortable with kids,” Ellie said. She tried to remember seeing Grady with children and couldn't recall a time she had.

“Maybe, but I've got kids, too. In fact, he chatted with Jeremy for a couple of minutes first. Then when I got on the phone...he invited me.”

“What did you tell him?”

Nell shrugged. “I didn't know what to say. No one's asked me out since Jake died, and I got so flustered I don't know if I made sense. I think I asked him to give me some time to think about it. He agreed.”

“I like Grady,” Ellie murmured. He wasn't an easy man to know, but he was fair and honest and hardworking.

“I'd no sooner recovered from that when I got another call,” Nell said. “It was Glen Patterson.”

Glen's name came out of the blue like a flash of lightning. “Glen?” Ellie repeated, the name buzzing in her ear. “Did you say Glen Patterson?”

“Yes. If Grady's invitation surprised me, Glen's knocked me for a loop.” She laughed softly. “I think I must have done a fairly good imitation of a guppie. All I could do was open and close my mouth.”

The fluttery sensation was back in the pit of Ellie's stomach, only this time it resembled nausea rather than happy anticipation. Ellie had assumed—
believed
—that Glen had wanted her to be his date.

“So you're going to the dance with Glen,” Ellie said bluntly, struggling to hide her feelings.

“No. I told him the same thing I told Grady.”

“Maybe you should go with both of them. Dangle one on each arm,” Ellie suggested, trying for a lighthearted response.

Nell laughed. “Maybe I should. That'd really turn some heads, wouldn't it?”

Somehow Ellie managed a smile. The dress was going back to Dovie's that very afternoon. She'd been an idiot to spend that much money trying to impress a man who'd already approached another woman. Perhaps he thought he'd walk into the Grange Hall with a woman on each of
his
arms. Well, in that case, Glen Patterson had another think coming.

“There's a problem with Glen, though,” Nell said, studying Ellie.

“What's that?” she asked, feigning interest.

“It's similar to the one I have with Grady. I always thought you and Glen would make a wonderful couple.”

“Glen and me?” Ellie laughed as though it was the funniest thing she'd heard in weeks. “Nah, we're nothing more than friends. If you want to go to the dance with him, don't let me stand in your way. He asked
you,
didn't he?”

“Yes, but—”

“Don't worry about it,” Ellie said, surprised how convincing she sounded. “It's no big deal.”

“You're sure?”

“Absolutely.”

On second thought, Ellie mused, as she rang up Nell's purchases, she was keeping the dress. Not only that, she'd be dancing every dance.

And she hoped Glen got a really good look at her, wearing her beautiful dress and dancing with every attractive single man who asked.

He could eat his heart out!

Six

T
his was bound to be an interesting evening, Cal Patterson thought. He climbed into his truck wearing fresh-washed Wrangler's, a string tie and polished boots. The big dance. Which meant there should be lots of entertaining activity as men and women of all ages flirted outrageously; making fools of themselves and each other. A few romances were always made at this kind of event, and a few broken. Yup, it was fascinating to watch, all right, especially if you were a disinterested observer. Like him.

But not like Glen.

Cal wasn't sure where Glen had gone Wednesday afternoon, but his brother had returned in one hell of a mood. While he might not know the particulars, Cal would wager a case of beer that his brother's rotten mood involved Ellie Frasier.

When Cal had made the mistake of mentioning Ellie in connection with the big dance, Glen had all but exploded. Even before Cal could ask any questions, Glen had slammed out the door, but not without dropping a couple of hints first. If Cal guessed right, Ellie had decided to accept Richard Weston's invitation over Glen's.

While her choice surprised him, Cal was the first to admit that women were inconstant creatures who rarely knew their own minds. Best to keep your distance. Next thing Cal knew, his little brother had asked Nell Bishop; it hadn't done Glen's ego any good when she'd turned him down, too.

Cal himself had been fool enough to let one woman kick him in the gut and had found the experience as painful as anything he'd ever known. By God, he wasn't about to let it happen a second time. Glen, however, seemed destined to learn this particular lesson on his own.

Apparently his younger brother was a slow learner, because tonight he'd come downstairs in a new denim blazer and a pair of blue jeans so crisp they squeaked. His boots were polished to a gloss. One look dared Cal to comment.

He didn't, but he could tell it wasn't dancing that interested Glen. His brother intended to prove to Ellie, and quite possibly himself, that he didn't need her to have a good time. In other words, he was determined to act like a world-class idiot in front of the entire town.

Cal could almost guarantee that before the end of this night, Glen was going to do something really stupid. Now, that would have some entertainment value, but more important, Cal considered it his brotherly duty to be there to pick up the pieces afterward. He felt for Glen; he'd been through this, too. Heartbroken and humiliated.

Oh, yeah,
definitely
best to keep your distance from women.

Cal heard the band playing when he parked his truck in a long line of vehicles outside the Grange Hall. Cars and trucks were crammed bumper to bumper on both sides of the two-lane highway; obviously the parking lot had filled early in the evening. From the look of things everyone in town had shown up for the dance that traditionally kicked off summer.

The piercing strains of a fiddle cut into the night, followed by a banjo and Pete Hadley's melodic voice. Light spilled out of the open doorway and Cal could see a number of the married men clustered outside for a breath of fresh air. That, and a swallow or two of the hard stuff. Cal wasn't much of a drinking man himself. A cold beer now and again was more to his liking.

Someone shouted a greeting and Cal raised his arm in silent salute, but didn't stop to chat. He'd given his brother two hours—two hours during which he'd have his pride booted to hell and gone. If all went according to his calculations, Glen would be drunk soon or wish he was. Give him another hour. At that point Cal would step forward and haul him home.

The poor guy was in love, and while that alone guaranteed disaster, the worst of it was that Glen refused to admit it. Seeing his brother in such sad shape was akin to looking back two years and remembering the way he'd been with Jennifer. It amazed him now he hadn't seen her for what she was. He'd been so deeply infatuated with her he would have done anything to make her happy. Anything to prove how much he cared.

He'd asked her to be his wife, and six months later she'd humiliated him by canceling their wedding at the last minute. All because he wouldn't give up ranching and move to San Antonio or Houston. Jennifer, who'd transferred from Phoenix, Arizona, to take a short-lived job as an assistant bank manager, had wanted out of small-town America. She'd wanted to move him to a city so crowded he'd never be able to breathe.

Cal had loved Jennifer, but he couldn't change who he was, not even for her. When he wouldn't dance to her tune, she pulled out of the wedding only two days before the event. Then she'd skipped town, leaving him to deal with the explanations and the embarrassment. Last he'd heard, Jennifer was living in Houston with some salesman.

He should have realized from the first she was a city girl at heart. But, like Glen, he'd been in love and hadn't recognized what was right there in front of him. Pushing thoughts of his ex-fiancée from his mind, he headed toward the hall.

The huge room was packed, forcing Cal to twist and turn as he made his way through the crowd. Men and women stretched across the hardwood floor in long rows, line dancing to the “Boot Scootin' Boogie.” He remembered a few steps himself; Jennifer had insisted he learn the basics, despite the fact that he'd been born with two left feet.

When that song was over, the couples dancing started. Cal peered around, looking for Glen, and finally spotted him. His brother stood on the opposite side of the room, leaning against the bar, his narrowed gaze trained on the dancers. It didn't take a genius to figure out who held his attention.

Ellie.

Cal's eyebrows arched when he saw the object of his brother's affection. He'd never seen Ellie look prettier. The dress wasn't one with a Western flavor, which appeared to be the popular choice, but more old-fashioned. Elegant. She looked
damn
pretty, and Glen wasn't the only one who'd noticed, either.

Richard Weston had his arm tightly wrapped around Ellie's waist. From all appearances they were deeply involved with each other. This was worse than Cal had expected. He knew the type of man Richard Weston was, and he'd figured Ellie would've caught on fast enough herself. Apparently he'd overestimated her ability to judge character. It was a shame, too, because Richard was a user.

This protective feeling toward Ellie surprised Cal. He didn't want to have
any
feelings toward women. Whatever you did, you got your teeth kicked in. Wasn't worth it. No siree, he'd learned his lesson the hard way.

As he looked back at his brother, his eyes strayed to the woman standing directly to Glen's left. It took him a moment to remember who she was. The new doc. The first time he'd noticed her she'd worn a power business suit to a barbecue; now she was dressed in jeans and a snap-button Western shirt. Not exactly appropriate attire for the year's most formal event. Cal couldn't help feeling sorry for her, even if she
was
a city girl, but suspected she found this hick-town dance highly amusing. He could picture her phoning her city friends and making fun of the way people dressed and talked in Texas.

The doc must have sensed his scrutiny because she glanced across the room and looked squarely back at him. He glared in her direction, wanting her to know that he didn't like her attitude—or what he assumed her attitude to be.

The music ended just then, and before Cal could stop him, Glen marched onto the dance floor and headed straight for Ellie.

***

This was working out even better than Ellie had hoped. Glen hadn't been able to take his eyes off her all evening. Richard viewed Glen as competition. She was well aware that his attentions had more to do with one-upmanship than any real interest in her; nevertheless she found flattery a balm to her wounded pride. She knew it was a superficial and childish reaction, but she couldn't help it. Glen had really hurt her by asking Nell to the dance. Temporarily, at least, being with Richard was a way of assuaging that pain.

The one bad side effect was that Glen's presence had brought out a possessiveness in Richard she wasn't sure she liked.

The only man she wanted to dance with hadn't even approached her. He'd followed her every move but hadn't made one of his own. Glen must've been reading her thoughts, though, because as soon as the music ended, he squeezed through the maze of people and stopped directly in front of her.

“The next dance is mine,” he announced, his grim eyes challenging her to contradict him.

She stared at him, astonished. This was a side of her friend she'd never seen. Demanding, intense. Generally he took everything in his stride, live and let live, that sort of thing. But this... Ellie didn't know what to think.

“You've danced with Richard three times now. It's my turn.”

“You're counting?”

“Yes,” he snapped. He grasped her about the waist, dragged her close and clenched her hands as if expecting Pete to break into the “Beer Barrel Polka.”

“Isn't this dance mine?” Richard asked with a look of sardonic surprise.

“She's dancing with me,” Glen responded before she had a chance to answer.

“Ellie?” Richard turned to her with lifted brows.

Glen's arms tightened around her defiantly.

“It's all right,' she assured the other man. “I'll dance with Glen.” She waited until Richard had left the dance floor, then burst out, “What's gotten into you?” She had to raise her chin to look him in the eye.

“Plenty,” he responded gruffly.

The music started again and Glen whirled her to the opposite side of the room and as far away as possible from Richard. The dance number was a mournful ballad about love gone wrong. Ellie found it a fitting choice. Couples flocked onto the dance floor, their arms around each other like clinging blackberry vines.

Glen didn't say anything, but he held her close, arms tight, jaw tense. But gradually he relaxed and so did she. They'd just found their rhythm when Richard approached and tapped Glen on the shoulder.

“My turn,” he said with the smug certainty of a man who knew he'd eventually get what he wanted.

Ellie saw Glen's eyes flare in annoyance before he slowly released her. With his high sense of drama Richard grabbed her about the waist and dipped her backward until Ellie gasped, thinking her feet were about to go out from under her. Then Richard pulled her upright and danced her to the other side of the room, away from Glen.

Just when she'd adjusted her steps comfortably to Richard's, Glen was back. Without a word he tapped Richard on the shoulder. Richard gave Glen a flinty-eyed glare, then unwillingly released her.

Glen gathered her back in his arms, but they hadn't taken more than a couple of steps before Richard interrupted a second time. The two men scowled at each other.

“This is ridiculous!” Ellie cried. “What's the matter with you, Glen?”

“Me?” he exploded.

“You heard the lady,” Richard said with a mocking smile that suggested Glen was making a nuisance of himself.

“You're no better,” she snapped, hands aggressively on her hips.

The music faded and the couples closest to them stopped dancing to stare at the unfolding scene. Ellie had never been so embarrassed in her life. Before another minute had passed, Frank Hennessey was standing between the two men. Although he wasn't at the dance in his capacity as sheriff, he was the law in town and no one questioned his right to intervene. Dovie Boyd, who was with him, cast Ellie a sympathetic look.

“Is there a problem here, boys?” Frank asked, placing emphasis on the last word. It was a not-so-subtle reminder that this sort of skirmish was generally reserved for adolescents.

“Nothing Richard and I can't settle
outside,
” Glen said.

“Glen!” Ellie couldn't believe her ears.

“That's fine with me,” Richard answered quickly, raising his fists.

“Just one minute.” Frank put a hand on each man's shoulder. “No one's going outside. If there's anything to settle, we'll do it right here and now.” He nodded at Glen. “What's the problem?”

“I'd like to finish the dance with Ellie without Richard cutting in.”

“Hey, it's a free country,” Richard said, his tone cocky.

“Richard and I can settle this between us, man-to-man.” Glen flexed his hands a number of times, letting Richard know he welcomed the opportunity to shove a fist down his throat.

“Neither of you is leaving this hall,” Frank stated in a friendly but unmistakably firm tone. “At least not in your present frame of mine.”

“I asked Ellie to dance first,” Richard insisted.

“The hell you did!” Glen shouted.

“Ellie?” Frank turned his attention to her. “Which one of them yahoos you want to dance with?”

She glanced from one man to the other. Richard wore a smug contemptuous look and Glen's dark brooding expression didn't make her feel much better. It was as if he thought he had squatter's rights or something.

“Neither one,” she announced coolly.

Glen's mouth sagged open. “Fine,” he muttered.

“But, sweetheart...” Richard objected.

Unwilling to listen to either one of them, Ellie turned abruptly and muttered to Dovie and Frank, “I'm going to get a glass of punch.” Glen and Richard were insufferable fools, she told herself, both of them plagued with oversize egos. She refused to allow them to make an idiot out of her, too.

Every eye in the room was focused on Ellie as she marched off the dance floor. She could feel the heat building in her face; she could hear the curious whispers all over the room.

Savannah and Caroline met her at the edge of the dance floor and gathered close around her. “Are you all right?” Savannah asked.

Ellie didn't know how to answer. Glen and Richard had made spectacles of themselves and a laughingstock of her. “I'm so furious I could scream.”