His Cowgirl Bride (15 page)

“Forget it, buster,” she said hoarsely, breaking the romantic spell. “You're not getting me to give up on the horse breaking that easy. As I said before, you're not drunk and I'm not your sister. I think you underestimate both of us.”

“I
sn't this is a great crowd?” Lacy exclaimed as Tacy found her at the sign-up booth for the “Punkin Chunkin” event.

“I thought I wasn't going to find a parking space,” Tacy agreed, scanning the crowd for people of interest…number one on the list—okay, the only one on the list—Brent Stockwell. They'd both been up since five trying to get some riding in on the horses before reporting to the event at ten. Brent had offered her a ride into town, but she'd made up an excuse to drive herself. Ever since the night before last, when she'd sat beside him on the porch swing, she'd been struggling to keep her distance from the man. True, she was working with him, but she'd forced that into perspective and kept all conversation in her usual flippant tone. They remained at a standstill over her desire to break horses—and to see him head home to his family for Thanksgiving.

“How's everything going?” Lacy asked, plopping a flamingo-pink-nailed hand on her hip. There was no question about what everything she was asking about.

“We're like two hardheaded mules playing tug-of-war!”

Lacy's electric blue eyes sparkled. “Isn't that fun? I still love to give Clint a hard time. I keep that man on his toes. You're good for Brent.”

Lacy surprised Tacy by reaching out and hugging her. “You know God sends people into our lives when we need them—did I already tell you that? Anyway, I believe He's at work here. If there is anything I can do, you just give me a holler. And remember, I'm praying for good things to happen.”

Tacy laughed, feeling uneasy. She knew what
good things
Lacy was insinuating, but the big question was what
good things
did Tacy want to happen?

“Thanks,” she said and meant it. “Well, I see Norma Sue and the ladies so I'd better get my pedal power over there before they have a conniption.”

Lacy laughed. “Are you up for the challenge?”

“I think so. But honestly, Brent said App and Stanley's pumpkin test went really well, so I don't know what to expect. How many other teams are here?”

“Just five. For our first contest and only local advertising, that's a nice turnout. It'll be fun.”

“Hope so.” Tacy waved, then jogged toward her team. It was hard to miss them, since Esther Mae had on a hot-pink jogging suit with a purple-and-pink scarf tied in her red hair. She stood out in the crowd like a
beacon. Plus, the bright orange catapult they'd built was pretty big and dazzling itself.

Halfway across the field, she spotted Brent. He was leaning against a contraption twenty feet away from her team, watching her jog toward him. As she went past, he tipped his hat and smiled, and she almost tripped over her own two feet.

Yup, no doubt about it. Today was going to be very interesting.

 

“It's gonna work,” Applegate grumbled from his kneeling place behind Brent.

“I tell you, it ain't,” Stanley countered. “Last night, it barely shot them pumpkins two hundred feet!”

“I made some adjustments since then.”

“And what do you call what yor doin' right now? The competition is almost ready ta start and you got yer wrenches out and yer hands greasy. That don't put much confidence in a man, ya know.”

Brent had zoned out the minute Tacy came into view jogging across the pasture.

Who was he kidding? She jogged by, and he planted his boots so that he didn't follow—not that it was that far. He had to admit he was glad to see that their teams were side by side. It promised to be a very entertaining afternoon in more ways than one. Who wouldn't want to spend the afternoon listening to App and Stanley grumble at each other? He wondered if older women gave each other as hard a time as older men. It didn't look like it from here. The ladies' camp
was not far away, and Esther Mae and Norma Sue looked like they were getting along just fine. They were checking out what looked to be a bicycle attached to their catapult. It appeared that pedaling would tighten the tension and release their catapult. Maybe that was why they weren't grumbling. They didn't have to worry about their motor failing.

He had to admit, though, that if the motorized version behaved as it was supposed to, the pedal-powered counterpart would be at a huge disadvantage.

And, grumpy as they were, he knew App and Stanley were already patting themselves on the back.

Still, he wouldn't count the ladies out just yet. Tacy was on that team and probably the power source. He crossed his arms and watched her give first Norma Sue and then Esther Mae each a hug. Instantly, he thought about defecting to their team if he'd get a hug for it.

He had it bad and he knew it. The green-eyed gal had worked her way into his every thought—and into his heart. She was stubborn and aggravating. But he knew there was something between them that defied logic. She felt it, too, and he thought she was fighting the attraction just as hard as he was.

With good reason.

They were not right for each other.

They would butt heads over and over and over again. She wanted the one thing he would never give her…could never give her. She wouldn't be happy without it, and that would mean he wouldn't be happy.
It would never work. Knowing that should make it easy for him to put her out of his mind. But it was far more complicated than that.

He'd never felt this—this pull toward anyone. He liked the way she looked, the way she spoke, the way she carried herself—walking, riding, jogging. You name it, he just liked looking at her. It went even deeper than that, though. He liked her humor and her laugh, the sassy way she came back at him with her quick wit. He liked listening to her talk about finding her own way in life. He admired her for pushing herself to fulfill her dream, even though her overprotective family tried to hold her back. And he liked how she still cared for her family. Tacy Jones had a great heart. She knew exactly who she was and, as far as he could tell, she'd never wavered from being that person. She was who she was. Maybe that came from her strong-but-understated faith. And maybe that faith, that compass she had that grounded her, was what he admired most about her. Maybe that was why she had no fear—maybe that was why she refused to live with fear. Her words rang in his head:
As I said before, you're not drunk and I'm not your sister. I think you underestimate both of us.

All night, he'd thought about those words—and thought about her. He hadn't expected her to hold fast to her plan after he'd shared his concern so openly and completely. No, she wasn't his sister. He hadn't been drunk or even taken a drink since that day in the arena. But underestimate himself? She thought he was under
estimating himself when, in fact, he'd already lowered the bar so low there was no estimating to it anymore. As for her, he knew she could do whatever she set her mind to, including breaking horses. He just couldn't be the one to teach her.

Suddenly, feeling grumpier than App and Stanley put together and needing a distraction, Brent pushed away from the catapult just as Lacy stepped up to the microphone. The festivities were about to begin.

 

“Load 'er in there, Brent,” Applegate commanded loudly, standing straight and tall as a general.

Brent carefully set the pumpkin into the pocket—having been told by Applegate that placement affected trajectory. He certainly didn't want to be blamed for the projectile going astray. This was
serious
business. “How's that look?” he asked.

“Looks good ta me,” Stanley yelled over the hum of the motor.

“Maybe tilt it to the right a touch,” App countered.

Norma Sue was standing beside Stanley, and she looped a thumb around one of her overall straps and frowned. “That thing is straight, Applegate, and you know it. Straight or not doesn't matter, though.”

“That's right. Nothing's going to beat us,” Esther Mae gushed, leaning around Norma Sue. The pink-and-purple scarf tied like a headband in her red hair distracted Brent momentarily. The two women were like night and day. Norma Sue was a robust woman fond of ranch work and overalls. Esther Mae had on
a bright pink jogging suit—one of those shiny outfits that made swishing noises when she walked. He knew it did because she'd been swishing from one catapult to the other for the last hour as everyone waited for the competition to get under way.

Farther behind them he saw Tacy biting her lip to keep from smiling. He caught and held her gaze and enjoyed the twinkle in her eyes as he lifted a teasing brow at her. She flashed one back at him and he savored the moment.

App grunted loudly. “You gonna jest stand thar ogling Tacy or ya gonna step back so I kin fire this thang?”

Brent laughed. “I'm stepping back now, sir. Fire away.”

“You know, you could just give up now, App,” Norma Sue yelled. “No harm in admitting defeat.”

Applegate gave her a glare and triggered the punkin chunker. There was a loud “thwunk” as the tension released the bands and the pumpkin launched into the air. All heads turned and watched as the pumpkin sailed left two hundred feet and landed in the concession stand.

App and Stanley stood in stunned silence. Esther Mae and Norma Sue hooted with laughter, as did the crowd behind them. Brent wasn't exactly sure how he felt. It was funny, no doubt about it, but it also was not right. He knew App's pumpkin chunker could do better.

Tacy winked at him when he glanced her way, and
he couldn't help grinning at the mischievous glimmer in her eyes.

Of course, when App and Stanley turned toward him, their gazes weren't nearly so pleasant. “Hey,” Brent said. “That wasn't my fault. But if you give me just a second, I think I can fix it.”

“How you gonna fix that?” Stanley asked, clearly mortified by such a poor showing.

“If you kin fix it,” App snapped, “then have at it.”

Norma Sue grinned broadly and slapped App on the back. “Go ahead and concede, ya ole goat!”

“No,” Brent interjected. “App's machine is going to give you ladies a run for your money, mark my word.”

“I'll believe it when I see it,” Esther Mae said.

“Don't be bad, Esther Mae,” said Adela, standing quietly off to the side. “It's not nice to gloat.”

Brent walked over to the catapult and quickly adjusted the bands. He'd realized that it wasn't his pumpkin placement but a slight difference in the balance of the bands between levers that had accounted for the dismal showing.

Within moments, the men had the next pumpkin in the slot, and away it flew, just like a clay pigeon out
across
the field—just the way it was supposed to go.

It looked so good flying out into the wild blue yonder that several cowboys whistled, and Applegate's chest puffed out with pride as the pumpkin arched and finally began its downward descent.

“What do ya thank about them thar apples?” App asked Norma Sue and Esther Mae.

Norma had both hands on her hips and was squinting at the pumpkin as it crashed onto the field. “I think you'd better hold on to your hat, App. C'mon, gals. Let's show these boys how it's really done!”

 

“So how does it feel to be a winner?”

Tacy jumped at the sound of Brent's voice so close to her ear. “Great,” she said, looking over her shoulder at him. His eyes were crinkled at the edges. “I hope the old codgers team is doing all right.”

Brent laughed. “You saw how App acted. He took his defeat in stride, but I hate to see what kind of contraption he and Stanley will bring to the festivities next year.”

Tacy chuckled, knowing it was true. “Norma Sue and Esther will hold this over them until they're beaten.”

“Will you let your boss buy you a glass of Adela's famous lemonade?”

Tacy turned to face him and nodded. “Sure.”

It was a gorgeous day. “I have to say I'm glad the punkin chunkin contest is over.”

“You and me both. I enjoyed it, though.”

They were walking through the small crowd toward the food booths. From what Tacy had been told, this was a smaller festival than most they held. “I like this town,” she said. “It's like a warm piece of apple pie.”

“What does that mean?” Brent laughed.

He placed his hand at her back as they went single file through a clump of people. Tacy liked the feel of
his hand—it was as if they were a couple. Focus, Tacy, focus. “It,” she started, and had to remember what she'd said—apple pie. “You know, apple pie is home and hearth. Grandma and Grandpa. Good friends and family. That's what I meant. Mule Hollow is that. Even when they're grumpy at each other.”

“Only you would put it that way. But you're right.”

They got in line at the lemonade stand and Tacy faced him—missing the feel of his hand when he crossed his arms and tucked his fingers into the crooks. He was looking at her with a strange glint in his eyes, and for a moment she fantasized that he'd tucked his hands tightly into place in order to keep from tucking them around her…. Right.