Shotgun Vows (5 page)

“It's my pleasure to show you the sights of San Antonio.” Jillian tucked a strand of straight blond hair behind her ear.

Mattie smiled at her soon-to-be sister-in-law across the table. It was hard to believe just that morning she'd
been teaching kids to ride in the wide-open spaces of Texas. And now, eight hours later, she was taking in the newest “in club” in San Antonio. She turned her head from side to side, trying to see everything at once.

She noticed the sawdust-covered floor, saloon-style bar, and old-fashioned Western lanterns sitting on the round tables. Anticipation hummed through her. The most impressive sight was the multitude of men bellied up to the bar, boots hooked on the stools.

“So this is the famous Watering Hole, bar and nightspot extraordinaire,” she said.

“This is it.” Jillian shifted uncomfortably on the wooden, barrel-backed chair. “This is where single women come to meet single men—cowboys hang out here in…droves, so to speak.”

“I already noticed the cowboys. It's so exciting. And about time, thanks to my brothers. I feel as if I've missed out on so much. Maybe I can see a little big-city nightlife without my shadow hovering over me.”

“You shouldn't be so hard on Griff, Mattie. He loves you and is trying to protect you.”

“I know he means well. They all do. But there are so many of them. I thought when I came to Texas, I would have the freedom of a single woman. But every time I turn around, I trip over one of the Fortune boys. Why can't they just let me live my life?”

“Maybe if I'd had a big brother watching over me, I wouldn't have made so many mistakes.” Jillian sighed, a big, gusty, sad sound.

Mattie felt guilty and ungrateful for complaining. Truthfully, she didn't know what she would do if anything happened to one of her brothers. Impulsively, she reached across the table and squeezed the other
woman's hand. She envied Jillian Hart Tanner's petite, pretty, blond good looks. Next to her, Mattie felt like a galumphing elephant. But she genuinely liked Jillian, and envied her happiness and the baby that would soon arrive for her and Brody.

“Things will be fine for you, Jillian. God knows why you want him—” she grinned “—but you've got my brother now. Soon you'll be married, and he'll take good care of you and the baby.” Her gaze dropped to the other woman's gently rounded abdomen, and a sigh escaped. “I envy you so. I'd like to have children. If only I could find someone to care about me the way Brody does you.”

“I've loved him for so many years.” Jillian's blue-green eyes always sparkled, but never more than when she mentioned her man. “I truly hope you find someone and are as happy as I am.”

“Me, too.” She glanced around the room again, checking out the men. She did a double take as she saw a man who looked an awful lot like her brother crossing the room. The man was wearing Brody's frown. Behind him was none other than Dawson Prescott's twin. At least, she hoped it was. She couldn't be so unlucky that the two of them would show up here.

“I don't believe it,” she muttered. “How could they have found me here?”

Jillian looked uneasy. “I hope you don't mind. When I went to the ladies' room—the place I spend so much time in these days,” she said ruefully, “I called Brody. The corporate office is practically around the corner. I missed him and just wanted to say hello. He was in a meeting with Dawson. I told
him where we were and asked him to meet us if he could.”

“Imagine that.” Mattie wondered which of the gods she had offended. Why was she being punished?

“I thought they would be at the office much longer,” Jillian continued. “He must have dropped everything. For me.” She smiled, the expression of a woman in love. “Isn't he wonderful?”

The two men stopped at their table and looked down. Fresh from the office, they were wearing slacks and dress shirts. They stood out like Rockettes with broken legs. Worse, she was disturbed that Dawson looked as good, if not better, than he had just that morning when she'd seen him in jeans and boots. She was afraid even a burlap bag wouldn't hide his muscular frame and the masculinity that made her senses sit up and take notice.

Mattie squirmed under her brother's stare, not so much because she knew he was angry, but because Dawson was there to witness the chewing out she knew was coming. “Hi, bro,” she said. “What's going on?”

“That's what I'd like to know, Matilda.”

She winced, then glanced at Dawson and didn't miss the expression on his face. He was grinning. Not with his mouth, but she could see it in his eyes. On the inside, he was smiling from ear to ear. Maybe she didn't hate her name as much as the fact that when someone called her Matilda she was usually in trouble. Why, oh, why did Dawson have to be here? He already treated her as if she were twelve years old. Now he was witness to her brother treating her like a twelve-year-old delinquent.

She looked up—way up—and met Brody's gray-
eyed gaze. That black hair of his and the stern look on his handsome face might intimidate some people. But not her. Caught she might be, but cornered—never.

She lifted her chin. “I'm checking out San Antonio nightlife, Brody. Your fiancée very kindly agreed to accompany me, since she knows the area.”

Brody smiled at Jillian, and a person would have to be blind not to see all the love in his expression. But when he glanced her way again, Mattie squirmed. The grim look was back.

“She's pregnant, Mattie,” he said. “What in the world possessed you to drag her to a place like this?”

Jillian put her hand on his arm. “She didn't drag me, Brody. She couldn't. I'm the size of a beached whale—it would take a crane to move me anywhere these days. Don't be so hard on her.” Jillian linked her fingers with his. “There's nothing wrong with this place. Besides, I'm pregnant, not sick. Being here won't hurt me.” She leaned forward and said, “Hi, Dawson.”

He smiled. “Hi, yourself. How are you?”

“Fine, now that you guys are here. I was missing Brody a bunch.”

“Can I get you ladies something to drink?” he asked.

When he met her gaze, Mattie noticed that same glint in his eyes, the one that pegged her as an amusing child. How she would love to wipe that look off his face and show him a thing or two about the woman she was.

But now wasn't the time. And since he was here, Mattie decided, he might as well make himself useful. “I'd like a glass of wine,” she said.

“Sparkling water for me,” Jill chimed in.

Brody glared at Mattie. “Make it two waters,” he said to Dawson.

“Sweetheart,” Jillian said to him, “why don't you go along with Dawson and help him carry the drinks?”

He bent over to kiss her cheek. “Whatever you say.”

When the two men were gone, Mattie didn't miss the pitying look Jillian sent her way. “I'm sorry, Mattie,” she said. “I wouldn't have called him if I'd known he would act that way.”

“Don't worry about it. At least you're with the man you love and he makes you happy. It's just my bad luck that he acts like a mother hen.” What bothered her more was Dawson's presence. He would see her big brother treating her like a kid when she was doing her best to show him she was a grown woman.

Jillian glanced over to the bar where the two men were talking while waiting for the drink order. “Your brother's intentions are good, Mattie.”

“Maybe. But you know what they say about the road to hell.” Dejectedly, Mattie rested her chin in her hand.

“Just you leave him to me when they come back.”

Mattie watched several cowboys move around on a small dais in the corner of the room. Three picked up a couple of guitars and a fiddle, while one sat at a keyboard and another tested the microphone. Then they began to play a slow, country and western song. The words were sad, about love gone bad. Mattie had only one experience with love. Adolescent love—definitely gone bad. But she was willing to give romance
another try. How else was she going to find her soul mate and have the family she wanted so badly?

She glanced around the room, attempting to catch the eye of one of the unattached men present. Trying to look available and pleasant, she plastered a smile on her face. No one gave her a second look.

Her small window of opportunity slammed shut when Brody and Dawson returned with the drinks. Her brother sat next to Jillian and possessively draped his arm across her shoulders. She snuggled into him with a contented sigh. Dawson was forced to take the empty chair at the table beside her, and content wasn't exactly the word Mattie would use to describe his body language. In fact, he angled all of his very attractive muscles as far away from her as he could get and still remain in the same county.

But Mattie didn't miss the glances he received from other women in the room. And the realization gave her the strangest feeling, like the weight of a stone sitting on her chest.

“Brody?” Jillian smiled sweetly.

“Hmm?”

“Would you dance with me?”

He gave her rounded belly a skeptical look. “Is it all right? Not too much exertion?”

“I had more exertion last night,” she said, smiling seductively at him. He grinned—a look of supreme male satisfaction that Mattie didn't quite understand.

“Okay, lady. Let's do it.” He held out his hand, and Jillian put her small one in his palm and let him help her to her feet.

They walked to the dance floor without a backward glance—as if they were the only two people in the world. Mattie watched Brody take Jillian in his arms,
and she went willingly, resting her head against his chest. He brushed his cheek across her hair and rubbed his thumb across the back of her hand as they swayed to the music.

Mattie envied them. Would she ever have eyes for just one man and he for her? Would any man ever hold her as if she were the most precious person in his world? As if his life would be meaningless without her? She glanced around the room at all the men who kept to themselves.
Not any time soon,
she thought ruefully.

“You know Brody means well.” Dawson met her gaze.

“Jillian said the same thing to me.”

“She's right.” He took a sip of his beer. “He cares about you.”

“She said that, too. And that if she'd had brothers to watch out for her maybe she wouldn't have made mistakes in her life.”

“She could be right.” Dawson glanced at the couple on the dance floor.

“On the other hand, maybe those mistakes made her appreciate a good thing when she found it. How will I know unless I get a chance to live?” Mattie asked, not really expecting Dawson to answer.

“Patience, Mattie. He'll be married soon. When the baby arrives, he won't have time to keep track of you. And he'll be too tired. I understand babies have this annoying habit of eating every two or three hours, day and night.”

“Annoying?” She studied him. “Don't you like kids? After the way you handled them this morning, you could have fooled me.”

One corner of his mouth quirked. “Did you just pay me a compliment?”

“No way.” But she couldn't help grinning back at him. “You just looked like you were having the time of your life, and the kids took to you like ducks to water. I figured you would want half a dozen.”

He shook his head. “It scares the hell out of me. I'm beginning to think stability is a myth. And I wouldn't bring a baby boy into this world without a guarantee of that.”

She took a sip from her glass, secretly grateful that it was water. “When my little girl comes into this world, I will welcome her with open arms. Two o'clock feedings and all.”

He raised one eyebrow. “Little girl?”

“If you can have a boy, why can't I have a girl?”

He shrugged. “No reason. Especially since the way you handled those schoolkids was damn close to miraculous. I was bowled over at how you sized up each one and picked just the right horse. The whole thing went a lot more smoothly than I would have guessed. Thanks to your expertise.”

“Did you just pay me a compliment?” she asked, joking because she didn't know how else to act.

“No way,” he said, but the amusement in his eyes belied the words.

His praise made her glow from head to toe. Inside and out. She didn't know nice words from a man could make her feel this way. If only it had been something about how desirable she was, instead of her ability with horses. Then she would see his indifference and raise him a flirtation or two.

“What I did isn't a miracle,” she said. “I've always
liked children. And I haven't made a secret of the fact that I would like to have one. Soon.”

He leveled an appraising glance around the room, then met her gaze. “First you have to grow up, your ladyship.”

“I
don't really look like a kid.” Mattie looked at Willa and Jillian for confirmation as she pushed her salad around her plate.

It was the day after her night before. Her very unimpressive night before on the town. She was having lunch in San Antonio with her two friends after shopping for bridal dresses for Jillian's wedding. Uncle Ryan's goddaughter had accompanied them. Mattie found her easy to talk to in spite of her recently acquired doctorate in Political Science. She had free time since she wasn't due to start teaching at Texas A & M until the following semester.

After several moments, she realized no one had commented on her statement. “Do I look like a kid?” She saw the glance the two women exchanged. “Tell me the truth.”

Jillian took her lemon slice from the rim of her glass and dropped it into her iced tea. “Of course you don't, Mattie.”

“If I don't look too young, then I'm a two-bagger,” she said.

Willa frowned. “Define ‘two-bagger.'”

“I need to wear a bag over my head in public and I'm so grotesque that one isn't enough.”

“Don't be ridiculous, Mattie.” Jillian skewered a piece of chicken in her salad.

“Then why didn't any of the men in the bar last night approach me?” Mattie asked, looking at first one then the other of her friends.

After Dawson's remark about her growing up, she had increased her efforts to attract attention. To ditch her brother and sashay through the place by herself, she'd used the excuse of going to the ladies' room. Apparently, she'd done it once too often, because finally Brody had asked if she had a problem. Her only problem was the look of amusement she'd seen on Dawson's face. It was becoming annoyingly familiar. Somehow when he was around, she never managed to bowl him over with anything but amusement—at her expense.

There was one notable exception. He'd admired her expertise with horses. She remembered the way his compliment had made her glow. And she wanted more. She wanted him to notice her as a woman. If she could impress a sophisticated man like Dawson Prescott, surely she wouldn't have any trouble attracting the cowboy she knew would be her soul mate.

“Since I wasn't there, it's hard to know why no one approached you,” Willa said. She pushed her glasses up more securely on her nose. “You're a bright, talented woman. If they were too nearsighted to notice, it's their loss.”

“Thanks for trying, Willa, but I'm not buying it.” Mattie leveled a look at Jillian. “You were there. If I'm not a two-bagger, maybe it was because of Brody.”

The other woman shook her head. “I kept him on the dance floor and away from you as much as possible. I'm carrying around a lot of extra weight these
days and still managed to dance his tootsies off until he begged for mercy. Poor guy. It was awful.”

Willa laughed. “By the look on your face, I can tell it was a great hardship and sheer torture.”

Jillian dramatically rested the back of her hand on her forehead. “It was just dreadful, hideous, and—” She started laughing. “Who am I kidding? I can't wait to be Mrs. Brody Fortune.”

Mattie sighed. “If it wasn't because of him, then maybe it was because of Dawson. Do you think the men in the place thought we were together? A couple? And that's why no one hit on me?”

Jillian thought a minute, then shook her head. “Not a chance. You had your arms folded over your chest. Very closed body language. And he looked like he was on high alert, guarding the world's only chocolate stash. Not to mention the fact that you hardly talked to each other, let alone exchanged longing looks. Then again, you kept dashing to the ladies' room every two minutes.” She shook her head. “I don't think anyone, even the relationship-challenged, would have mistaken you two for a couple.”

“Then what
is
it? What's wrong with me?” Mattie put her fork down and crossed her arms over her chest, looking from one woman to the other.

“There's nothing wrong with you, Mattie,” Jillian said. Then she glanced at Willa, who gave her what looked like a go-ahead nod. “Nothing that a little makeover wouldn't cure.”

“Makeover? What do you mean?” Mattie asked.

Willa sipped her iced tea, then said, “She means a haircut and cosmetics lesson.”

“What good will that do?” Mattie asked, disappointed.

“Did you ever see the movie
My Fair Lady?
” Willa asked, leaning forward.

“Yes,” Mattie answered.

“Jillian and I are going to play Professor Higgins and Colonel Pickering.”

“Eliza Doolittle spent a lot of time working on the way she talked,” Mattie said. “If you're telling me I need to lose the accent—”

“Not on your life,” Willa said. “It's adorable. A great gimmick to meet men. You just need some pizzazz. Some style to your hair and makeup to show off your assets.”

“She's right, Mattie. Your features are wonderful. And women pay a lot of money to dye their hair the same color as yours. You have all the raw material to be a femme fatale. But you don't know what to do with it. Hasn't anyone ever shown you how to apply makeup?”

“My mother tried everything she could think of to clean me up. She said I would never find a husband if I didn't put on a dress once in a while.” Mattie shrugged. “I was too stubborn. As much as I hate to admit it, mother may have been right.”

Jillian shook her head. “I'm not sure the dress is necessary. With some sexy shaping to your hair, a little eye shadow and mascara, I don't think men will care what you're wearing. In fact, Willa and I would be wise to stand clear. In my condition it wouldn't be smart to get in the way of the male stampede.”

Mattie glanced uncertainly at each of them. “I suppose it's worth a try. But I don't know where to go. What do I have to do?”

Jillian smiled and stood up, then signaled the waitress for their check. “There's a place right around the
corner, just down the street from the corporate office. I found it after work one day. The hairstylist is wonderful, and they also have an esthetician.”

Mattie frowned. “A what?”

“It's a fancy name for someone who goes to school to learn about skin care and cosmetics. Carol Donnelly is wonderful. She's going to do my makeup for the wedding. Let's drop in and see if they can squeeze you in. What do you say?”

Mattie wasn't sure whether to be excited or afraid—very afraid. But she wasn't happy with herself the way she was. If these two women whom she liked and admired thought she should change her look, then she was in. After all, what did she have to lose? If anyone laughed, she could wear a hat until her hair grew back.

Willa stood up. “C'mon, Mattie. Aren't you finished eating yet? We have people to see, hair to cut, greasepaint to apply. And we have to do it before you chicken out.”

 

“Matilda Fortune, don't be a wimp. Open your eyes,” Willa said.

“How does my hair look? Willa? Jillian? Are you afraid to tell me? Now I really do need a bag over my head. Right?”

“No guts, no glory,” Jillian said, laughter in her voice.

Mattie opened one eye. First impression: sleek, shiny hair. Okay. She slowly opened her other eye.

“What do you think?” the stylist asked expectantly.

Wisps of golden highlighted hair fell softly over her forehead. Layers gently framed her face and the curled-under neckline barely brushed the collar of her cotton shirt. She shook her head slightly, feeling the
silky hair move. What a lovely sensation. The best part was that she
looked
pretty darn good. At least,
she
thought so. But then, she was beginning to wonder if she had any judgment.

“Well?” Jillian asked, hands on her hips. “Aren't you going to say something?”

Mattie grinned. “I guess I don't have to wear a bag over my head.”

“Now there's high praise,” Willa said dryly. “You look fabulous.”

“I think I like it.” She looked at the stylist. “But I'm sure I won't be able to make it look like this.”

“You have natural wave, so all you need is a blow-dryer to give it some fullness. The cut should hold up great even if you let it air-dry straight from the shower. Just bend over, shake your head, and it will fall into place. Perfect for an outdoorsy woman like yourself.”

“One down, one to go,” Jillian said. “I think Carol's ready for you.”

Mattie shook her head. Partly a negative response, partly because her hair felt so wonderful, loose and free. But the best part was that it did fall right back into place.

“Carol will never be ready for me,” she said skeptically. She couldn't be so lucky as to have the woman turn plain-Jane Matilda Fortune into a woman that a man would look at twice.

“Wanna bet?” Jillian asked. “This time you have to keep your eyes open. She'll teach you how to do everything.”

A few minutes later, Jillian and Willa waited in a nearby lounge while Mattie sat in front of a mirror surrounded by theatrical lights. Carol, a beautiful sophisticated blonde, was checking over Mattie's filled-
out questionnaire. Then she pulled out creams, brushes and containers of cosmetics and went to work.

For the next hour, Mattie concentrated on everything the esthetician said. She learned about moisturizer and foundation and how to apply them for a flawless look. Learned about cosmetics and daytime versus nighttime looks.

When Carol was finished, Mattie stared at herself in the mirror. “I can't believe it's me,” she said reverently. She was beginning to believe in miracles.

“You look sensational. If I do say so myself,” Carol said, and stepped back.

Mattie continued to study her reflection. “If I hadn't seen it with my own eyes,” she breathed, “I wouldn't have believed it possible.”

Carol smiled, genuinely pleased. “Let's go show your friends.”

Impulsively, Mattie jumped out of the chair and hugged the other woman. “You're a miracle worker.”

The woman shook her head. “You're a beautiful woman. I just brought it out.”

Mattie walked down the hall and found Jillian and Willa in the lounge, reading magazines. When she entered the room, the two women stared openmouthed and speechless for several moments. That was a miracle in itself.

Jillian blinked. “You're an absolute stunner, Mattie Fortune. I can't believe it.”

“That goes double for me,” Willa said. “I knew a makeover would help, but I didn't know a supermodel would be born.”

“You're exaggerating,” Mattie said, finding it difficult to believe, even though she so desperately wanted to.

“Only a little.”

Mattie nodded. And she couldn't wait until Dawson Prescott got a look at her. She wanted to bowl him over. Only a little.

Because if she passed
his
test, she planned to go on—to find her soul mate.

 

Dawson had always loved spending time at the Double Crown, and today was no exception. He just wished that keeping tabs on Mattie wasn't what had brought him here. He'd used the excuse of needing to take a ride on horseback to clear his head and relax on a beautiful Saturday afternoon.

In truth, he was here to check up on Mattie, to see with his own eyes that she was okay. He'd called the previous day and been told that she was bridal shopping with Jillian and Willa. He'd congratulated himself on being off the hook for a while. How much trouble could she get into with a college professor and a pregnant bride-to-be?

But today he'd felt restless. It had been over twenty-four hours since he'd actually seen the sassy Aussie. He wished it had been that long since he'd thought about her. She had an annoying way of creeping into his mind at the weirdest times: in business meetings, in his dreams, first thing in the morning. But as he walked to the barn to find her, he reminded himself that he was just doing his duty. He would make certain that she was all right.

He needed to see that she was present and accounted for and hadn't run off with one of the cowboys. He smiled at the thought. Since Griff had left, she'd been on the prowl with little success. His grin widened as he remembered poker night. Bobby Lee
and Ethan had welcomed her with less than open-armed enthusiasm. Then when she'd started winning, they couldn't get rid of her fast enough.

And at the Watering Hole, she had been as obvious as all get out, walking to the ladies' room every two minutes. He'd caught a couple of guys giving her legs the once-over. But with one look Dawson conveyed his message: Look but don't touch if you know what's good for you.

He figured he had this covert assignment wired. Griff had called to say he would be home a few days before the wedding. When he knew an exact date, he said, he would let Dawson know. But Mattie had struck out twice with men. Dawson decided the odds were in his favor that her inning would end without a score, so he had nothing to worry about on his watch. He would play the part of surrogate big brother a little while longer to the little girl from Australia.

As he drew closer to the barn, he noticed a group of cowboys standing by the corral. He wondered if there was a problem, but when laughter drifted to him, he decided not. As the bodies shifted, he noticed a woman at the center of the gathering and wondered who she was. Loose blond hair tickled her collar, but he couldn't think of any female on the ranch who wore her hair that way. His gaze lowered to her trim waist, where her shirt was tucked into worn jeans that hugged her curvy hips. Whoever she was, her figure should be registered as a lethal weapon. Then he looked lower and noticed her long, shapely legs. He'd had dreams—day and night—about those legs.

Mattie? Surrounded by men?

Increasing his pace, he arrived just in time to hear one of the cowboys say, “C'mon down to the bunk
house later, Mattie. Ethan's plannin' to teach us a new card game.”