Small-Town Brides (11 page)

Could she willingly ignore a child's need simply because of her own need for vindication?

She tried to harden her heart…but he'd hit her Achilles' heel. How could she ignore the child's needs? Her stomach rolled at the thought.

And then there was the fact that despite having her heart broken Rene was completely happy now…so did any of this matter to anyone but Paisley?

“I'll do it,” she said, before she could change her mind. “For Zoey.
Not
for you in any way, shape or form. Is that understood?”

A smile exploded across Trace's handsome face and to her horror, before she'd even finished speaking, the crazy man grabbed her up in his strong arms and spun her around!

“Rene always said you were the best!” he whooped as they spun. “Thank you! Thank you! I promise you won't regret this.”

Dizzy, angry and totally flustered she struggled against him. “Wh…whoa!” she sputtered, pushing against his broad shoulders, glaring down into his sparkling eyes, feeling his arms wrapped around her waist. “Put me down!”

At her command he dropped her like a rock. Feeling like she'd just fallen off the merry-go-round she stumbled away from him—most
assuredly
not merry! When he reached to steady her she held up a shaky hand of warning. “Stay,” she snapped. She was so infuriated her pulse was pounding, her every nerve ending was sizzling with distaste.

“Rules,” she gasped, breathlessly, glaring at him and the grin plastered across his face. “The ground rules are:
Don't
touch me. You got that, buster?”

B
ig mistake. Big mistake. Big mistake.

The voice inside her head was getting on her nerves the next morning as Paisley parked her car in front of Sam's Diner—of course her nerves were shot, so it didn't take much. But, as she stepped onto the weathered planks of the sidewalk, the droning tone was as relentless as the midsummer sun that beamed down on her. She glanced down the street at the town she'd started to call home, needing the happy feeling she always got when she looked at the welcoming place.

Mule Hollow was a darling town of clapboard buildings lining the main street. It had been painted in an array of bright colors, highlighted by bright trim, giving it a very welcoming façade made more so by the window boxes that overflowed with assorted flowers. Amazing, simply amazing, she thought as always when she looked at it. The community had taken a dusty, dying town and done the ultimate makeover. It was simply the most welcoming place she'd ever seen…but even it wasn't making her happy this morning.

Walking into the diner, she still couldn't believe that starting Monday she would be working for Trace.
Big mistake—what would Rene think about it if she knew?

Her cousin was now happily married to Clay Preston—they were on their honeymoon this very moment…she tried to counter her conscience. It wouldn't matter.

Maybe. Problem was, Paisley couldn't shake the feeling that this might present an uncomfortable situation.

Paisley pushed open the heavy swinging door and entered the rustic diner. A relic from days gone by but much loved by all who frequented it. A group of cowboys were in her way, paying their bill, so she moved over to her favorite table at the window.

“Good morning, Applegate and Stanley,” she said, loudly. The two old men were hard of hearing and even harder on each other during at their daily checkers game. They seldom missed a day at the window table.

The diner was the hub of the town and Paisley enjoyed having coffee and pancakes here on Saturday mornings. She found something comforting about seeing everyone who came in and out, especially these two crusty old men with hearts as soft as marshmallows.

“Mornin' to you, too,” App grunted, not looking up from the board. He always seemed to have a perpetual frown creasing his thin wrinkled face as he concentrated on his next move.

Stanley, the slightly plump teaser of the two, beamed at her. “Don't mind him. He ain't got nowhere ta go, so he's crabby. He needs ta surrender.”

App shot his buddy a glare. “You wish, ya old coot.”

Stanley tapped his watch face with his index finger.
“We gotta be at play practice in three hours, and at the rate you're goin', you ain't gonna have made this move before we have to quit.”

Paisley had been just as surprised as everyone else when these two had volunteered to help run the sound and lights of the summer stock theater that one of the couples had opened. But what had been more shocking was that they were really good at it despite their hearing problems and their constant picking. “Hang in there, Applegate,” she chuckled. “I have faith in you.” She winked at Stanley, who plopped a handful of sunflower seeds into his mouth and grinned smugly.

She held a deep fondness for these two fellas in part because they'd been very good to Rene. Rene hadn't had an easy life. While Paisley had gone off to college and gotten her degree, her cousin had gladly put her life on hold and taken care of her invalid mother for years until her death a few months back. When Paisley had been hired as a substitute teacher for the last half of the year at the rural school Mule Hollow shared with another small town, she'd talked Rene into coming with her. The tiny town sounded like the perfect place to make their childhood dreams come true.

Having been tied down for years with her mother's home care, made working in the diner extremely good for Rene…with the exception that her infatuation with Trace Crawford had begun here.

Grudgingly, Paisley understood the attraction—even with her dislike of the cowboy, she couldn't deny that Trace was handsome. Okay, gorgeous! One look from those dreamy eyes and what woman's pulse wouldn't kick it up a notch?

Which explained her reaction to him yesterday. She
refused to even think for an instant that attraction was involved. The very idea was revolting, after the way he'd treated Rene.

“Paisley! Yo-hoo. Over here.”

Relieved for the distraction from her disturbing thoughts, Paisley caught Esther Mae's wave from a booth near the kitchen where she sat with her two co-conspirators. The sixty-something dynamo with a fondness for brightly colored velour jogging outfits patted the bench beside her.

The herd of cowboys were exiting the building in a flurry of clinking spurs and clomping boots. Once they were out of the way, she crossed the room and slid into the booth. “Hi, ladies. We need to talk,” she said, without any preamble. With these three a person had to get right down to business, because they were born matchmakers and she knew a setup when she saw it.

These three ladies had “helped” several women find their soul mates. But if they thought for one minute that Trace and she…no, they just better not be thinking in that direction.

“So why did you tell Trace I needed a job?” she asked, regarding each lady with a pointed look. “He might have fallen for the ‘there was no one else with the time to help him' bit, but I'm not that naïve.” These women gave of their time freely, helping everyone out in any way needed. There was no way they wouldn't have made especially certain this little, orphaned girl was well cared for. Which could only lead to one conclusion.

“So, did you take the job?” Norma Sue Jenkins asked, ignoring Paisley's probing. She was a robust cattlewoman and her husband was the foreman of Clint Matlock's ranch—the largest one in these parts and the ranch for
which Trace worked. Beneath the denim overalls beat a heart of gold…and a steamroller personality.

And that was what worried Paisley. “Yes, I took the job. But if you three are getting any ideas about me and Trace, then stop it right now. I'm helping him because I need the job and someone needs to look out for Zoey.”

Adela smiled. “We knew you would, dear. You have a wonderful heart.” A wisp of a woman, she had sparkling blue eyes so clear a person thought she could see right through them. “You are a God-given opportunity for this tiny family.”

“That's right,” Esther Mae chimed in. “These last few months, since your cousin left town, you've been so miffed at Trace that you've been wound tighter than my Sunday girdle!”

“Esther Mae,” Applegate snorted from the front window. “If yor gonna be tellin the world about yor girdle, then give a man time ta turn off his hearin' aid!”

“You go right ahead and turn that hearing aid off! You and your selective hearing,” a pink Esther Mae huffed, then leaned in and whispered, “I guess that
was
a little out of line for a public place. But you know what I mean, girls.”

“Amen to that,” Norma Sue grunted. “You wouldn't ever catch me trying to get in one of those elastic body bands.”

Despite her determination to be firm, Paisley chuckled. “You know very well why I've been so upset with him. He
ran
Rene off!”

“Yes, we understand your anger. But the poor man didn't really mean to hurt her,” Adela said.

“Still, he did and I'm not going to forget that…however, I am going to work for him for the summer. In all good conscience, I can't
not
do it, since I really do have the time.”

Sam came over and set her plate in front of her. The diminutive man didn't even bother to ask her what she wanted anymore. He just started cooking pancakes the minute she walked through the doorway on Saturday mornings.

“Here you are, Paisley,” he said. “And you listen to my Adela. She's been praying about this ever since that boy found out he was get'n that little girl.”

Paisley's heart fluttered at the love in his eyes when he smiled at Adela. Oh, to have a man love her like Sam loved Adela.

“I've been praying, too,” Norma Sue said. “And I have a good feeling you being there to steer Trace in the right direction is a good thing. Men don't know nothin', and if you haven't noticed, he's really shook up about it. More than most. There's something about the boy that makes us wonder about what kind of past he's had.”

“Look,” Paisley said, setting the syrup down with a thud. Talking about Trace's past made her uncomfortable. “I'm not interested in the man's past. My only concern is helping Zoey.”

Three pairs of eyes blinked at her in complete disbelief.

“
Really.
Ladies, surely y'all understand that I'm doing this for Zoey. If not for her I'd let the man sink—that means I don't want any crazy matchmaking ideas.” More blinks, but they at least kept silent. “No pushing,” she warned, not getting a good vibe at all.

She'd been blunt—not that it had done any good. Oh, no. They didn't look as if they'd heard a word she'd said. They were trying too hard to look innocent.

Ha!

“And besides,” she said, deciding to take a different route. “I have serious concerns about how healthy it will
be to bring a child into a house with two people who clearly dislike each other.”

“Oh, now,” Esther Mae sighed. “It's not as bad as all that. I think y'all are just out of sorts. Y'all would make a
grand
couple. Just think what pretty babies you'd have.”

“What?” Paisley gasped.

“And speaking of Trace,” Norma Sue said, looking past Paisley toward the door. “That is one fine looking cowboy. He looks like a weight has been lifted off his shoulders since I saw him yesterday. Just look at the spring in his step and the light in those gorgeous eyes. How could you even think about saying no to the man?”

“Good grief,” Paisley muttered as she twisted toward the door.

Trace had stopped to say hello to App and Stanley before heading their way with that killer smile in perfect place. Her stomach turned queasy just looking at him—of course it was nothing more than nerves. Knowing she'd committed to work for him for the next few months made her want to toss her pancakes. No doubt about it: she had a bad case of dread.

“Good morning, ladies,” he said, entirely too pleased with himself. “Did Paisley tell you she's agreed to rescue me?”

“I'm not rescuing you,” she snapped, setting her fork down with a clatter. Food on an upset stomach would not be a good idea.

“You are rescuing me,” he reiterated, firmly. “You have no idea. I actually
slept
last night.”

“Oh, that is just so sweet,” Esther Mae cooed. “Did you hear that, Paisley? The poor boy hasn't been sleeping, he's been so worried about how he was going to take care of that precious, precious child.”

Of course she'd heard. And Paisley had to admit being that worried about Zoey was sweet.

“I hoped I'd find you here,” he said, settling grateful eyes on her. “I went by your house first.”

“Why?” she asked, more than a little aware of the looks passing between her obnoxious booth buddies—she felt like she was being offered up like a prize on the
Price Is Right,
for crying out loud!

“I took the day off and hoped you might go with me to pick out some things to make Zoey's room nice. You know, girly.”

“What a
lovely
idea,” Adela said.

“I don't—” she started, but gasped when Esther Mae elbowed her in the ribs.

“Sure, she'll go,” the dastardly redhead exclaimed. “It's for the child.”

Holding her ribs, Paisley glared from Esther to Norma Sue, hoping for some backup.

What she got was a thumbs up. “Sure, she'll go,” the steamroller said, again plowing right over any ideas Paisley had of Norma helping her out.

Paisley rubbed her ribs and slumped in defeat. The awful truth was they were right—she needed to make certain Zoey's room was safe for her. She let out a slow breath. “I'd be happy to go,” she said through clenched teeth. Resolved to her plight, she reached for her purse and stood up. “After all, we wouldn't want you decorating Zoey's room in hay bales and cowbells now, would we?”

“Nope,” he said, totally unaffected by her sarcasm. “We wouldn't want that at all. Wait,” he said, zeroing in on her plate. “You can finish your pancakes. You haven't taken a bite.”

She dropped her money on the table and glared at the three wretched women smiling up at her. “I've lost my appetite. And besides,” she said, giving him her attention, “we've got something much more important to do.”

“See y'all later,” Norma Sue and her cohorts called in chorus as Paisley stormed toward the exit. They would think what they wanted, so she couldn't worry about that. Focusing on the little girl was all she could do. It was the only thing that would help her get through this fiasco!