The Bull Rider Meets His Match (9 page)

Despite that, he felt a deep need to test the waters.

The big question was how.

* * *

“W
ELL
,
YOU
DID
tell Tiffani you were sleeping together,” Danielle said as she and Lex flipped through racks of bridesmaid dresses. Great-granny hadn't made the trip and Danielle's mother and grandmother were one rack over, so they could finally talk. Lex wouldn't have talked at all if Danielle hadn't gotten wind of the story just before they left for Bozeman that morning and asked if it was true. That had opened the floodgates of Lex's frustration at being part of a public spectacle. It would have been one thing if there really was something between them, but there wasn't.

“I was making a point to her,” Lex said from between her teeth. They'd been conversing in snatches for the past hour whenever they managed to get away from the older Perry women. “To make her realize she was sticking her nose where it didn't belong.”

“Didn't seem to work.”

“Tell me about it.”

Danielle turned to Lex, still holding the skirt of a pale yellow dress, even though her dresses were supposed to be pink. “What do you have against Grady?”

“Oh, let's see. Maybe the fact that he chose rodeo over you?” How could Lex not hold that against him? He'd seriously talked marriage with a woman who couldn't handle his career. He shouldn't have done that—not when he hadn't been willing to give up the career.

“Let me clarify. What do
you
have against him?”

Lex had no answer for that, so she pulled a rose pink minidress off the rack and held it out, more to look busy than because she thought it was a possibility.

“No!” Danielle's mother called from across the store, and Lex instantly put it back.

“In case you didn't know,” she said without looking at Danielle, “track records matter.”

“People change.”

Lex gave her head a shake, as if trying to clear it. “What are you saying?”

“People. Change.”

“No. Are you saying that I should have something to...do...with Grady?”

“He has his good points.”

“Along with a few character flaws.”

“Who doesn't? All I'm saying is don't dislike him just because you think you should. Because of me.”

“He didn't do his sister any favors by never coming home.”

“He's home now.”

Lex pulled in a breath. “Please don't tell me again that people change.” Fortunately Danielle couldn't have if she'd wanted to, because her grandmother had given an excited shout from nearby and then proudly displayed the
perfect
bridesmaid dress...if one were a sugarplum fairy.

Lex left Danielle to tactfully deal with the tulle and satin dilemma and concentrated on putting their conversation out of her head. She had reasons for her feelings about Grady, and no one was going to talk her out of them. Just as she hadn't allowed people to talk her out of being friends with some of the less-than-cool kids in high school. Lex followed her heart and her head. Only her hormones seemed to get her into trouble, so they were out of the equation.

After Danielle had explained to her grandmother that she was looking for something a little sleeker and got the sparkly puffy dress safely back on the rack, the team broke for lunch.

“Next we'll go to Carson's Wedding Boutique,” Mrs. Perry announced happily. “That'll be the most likely place to find the perfect dress for Danielle.”

At least all of Danielle's relatives had gotten over the disappointment of her not choosing a family dress to restyle, and all were now focused on the hunt for the perfect wedding dress with which to torture some future granddaughter.

Twenty minutes later, Lex was idly perusing the display racks while Danielle changed into her first choice and her mother and grandmother waited, seated in white leather chairs with glasses of sparkling water in their hands. Lex couldn't make herself sit still.

This situation with Grady was bugging the heck out of her. How had everyone gotten the idea that they were an item? A couple of kisses? Who didn't kiss a casual date good night? Did that make them a couple?

“Try this.”

Lex turned to find an associate standing behind her, holding a draped column of a dress with no embellishments other than a few artfully crafted fabric roses on one side of the neckline. She swept it through the air to hold it up to Lex before she could utter a word of protest. The silk charmeuse whispered over her skin and she could see that the skirt was deceptively full, even though it was cut to cling to the hips.

“Very 1930s,” the woman explained. “Perfect for your figure.”

“I'm not the bride,” Lex said.

“Oh.” The dress drooped a little; then the woman lifted the hanger again. “You will be, and when you are, you need to remember this dress. Perfect, perfect, perfect.”

“Thank you,” Lex said, and then she was saved by Danielle making her way out of the dressing room, looking stunning in a simple satin gown.

“You're both lucky women,” the associate murmured. “You don't need a lot of glitter and glitz, because you have presence.”

“Thank you,” Lex murmured again, thinking that the woman was good. Because at that moment, thanks to her, she did feel as if she had presence, and there was no question that Danielle had it. It felt odd being placed in the same category as her friend, who was a bona fide knockout.

“This dress is perfect,” Danielle said, turning in front of the mirror as the associate pinched the fabric here and there, showing where it could be altered.

Perfect dress or not, she tried on seven more at her mother's behest before they decided that the first one was indeed
the one
. By the time the alteration card had been filled out, Lex would have loved a pitcher of beer, but instead she made do with a small glass of red wine at the victory dinner before heading back to Gavin.

“You know,” Lex said after dropping off Danielle's mother and grandmother, “I don't think this dress will be all that bad if your daughter wanted to wear it.”

“We say that now,” Danielle said with a wide smile. The smile faltered a little and she said, “About our earlier conversation... Grady and such...” Lex sucked in a fortifying breath, but all her friend said was, “...We won't talk about that again. I can see that it isn't your favorite topic.”

That was why Danielle was her best friend. She let her off the hook when she really needed to get off the hook. Right now she didn't even want to think about Grady Owen. She simply wanted to get on with her life, such as it was.

Lex got home to find a message on her landline message machine and, curious about whom on earth would be calling the landline, pushed the play button.

“Hi, Alexa. This is Pete. I couldn't help noticing that you had a lot of animals at your place and wondered if you might be able to foster a flock of ducks as a favor to me. Call me if you haven't already hung up. Thanks.” Lex smiled to herself as she jotted down his number and then called him back.

“Why do you need a foster home for ducks?”

“It's a long story, but my grandmother recently sold her house and is moving. There will be a two-month period in which she will have no home, so she's going to Minnesota to stay with her sister.”

“Okay...”

“The ducks are a special breed. Exotic something or others.”

“Something or others?”

“Waterfowl aren't my thing,” he confessed. “They come with a pool and a pen and everything.”

“How many?”

“Six.”

“What if something happens to them?”

“It's on me...so if you think something's going to happen to them, say no.”

“I have a cat and three dogs, but they never bothered my chickens when I had them, so... I guess.”

“Thank you, Alexa. I'll be in touch.”

“You're welcome.”

She hung up without saying,
“How hard could duck-sitting be?”
because she'd learned the hard way that nothing ruined a day like taunting the cosmos. And one thing about the ducks—they took her mind off Grady for almost a minute or two.

Chapter Nine

The day of the Dedicated Reader Awards and ice cream pig-out dawned sunny and clear. Annie laid out a battle plan. Grady would bring the girls to Jaycee Park, arriving early so that Annie could make certain they still looked presentable. She'd save him a seat in the parents' section. After the fun was over, he'd take the girls home and quite possibly make prodigious use of the stain removal prewash spray.

“Okay, so the girls are ready to go. All you have to do is to get them to the park by eleven. Danielle and I will walk over from work.”

Annie was repeating herself, so Grady got the idea that this reading awards ceremony was important to her. As it should be. The girls had read a goodly number of books to qualify for the honor.

“Who'll mind the store?” he said.

Annie smiled. “We're putting up a bee-back-soon sign. Danielle wants to see the girls get their dedicated reader awards, too.”

“What about Lex?” Not that he was thinking about her or anything.

“She has something going on this afternoon, or I'm sure she'd be at the awards, too.”

“It's cool that this is such a big deal.”

“I know. They've made it so that getting the award is a real achievement.”

“What's an achievement?” Kristen asked as she came into the kitchen with Katie a few steps behind her.

Annie leaned down to give each girl a kiss. “Your awards. They mean you've accomplished something.”

“I got an award for breathing once,” Grady said. Annie shot him a dark look, and the girls both cocked their heads. “It was all about self-esteem,” he explained. “Everybody got an award just for showing up at basketball camp.”

“How's that special?” Kristen asked.

“It isn't. Which is why these awards of yours are real special. You did something hard to earn them. Where do you think my award for breathing is?”

“I don't know.”

“Neither do I. But I can tell you exactly where my rodeo buckles, my high school letter and my spelling bee award are.”

“You won a spelling bee?”

Grady looked at Annie. “All these scars and buckles and they're impressed by the spelling award.”

“As well they should be.” Annie gave her girls “the look.” “Stay clean.”

“We will.”

“No mud pies. In fact...don't leave the house.”

The girls nodded in unison. Grady had to admit that they looked pretty cute in their dresses, one purple and blue, one turquoise and brown, similar in style but different enough to allow the girls their own personality, and he also knew how quickly they could get uncute, given the proper mix of mud and water.

Once Annie drove away, he jerked his head toward the living room. “Watch television until it's time to leave, okay?” He went into the kitchen and came back with the timer. “If I'm not back in the house when this thing dings, then come and get me, okay?”

“All right.” Kristen already had the remote and was cruising through channels while Katie curled up on the opposite end of the sofa, tucking her feet underneath her.

“Stop!” she called. “I want to watch that...”

Grady let himself out the back door, hoping to get at least a start on framing the gardening shed before he had to take off for town.

As he fully expected, he lost track of time. What he hadn't expected was to look at his watch and realize that the girls should have called him twenty minutes ago. If he didn't get a move on, they were going to be late.

He jogged to the house, peeling out of his sweaty T-shirt as he went. “Girls, get whatever you need. We have to go. Now.” He disappeared into his room and came out buttoning a light blue long-sleeve shirt. He stepped out onto the porch and quickly brushed the fine sawdust off the jeans that were going to have to do, because he didn't have time to take off his boots and find new ones. When he came back out into the kitchen, there was no sign of the girls...but there were noises coming out of the bathroom. Water splashing noises mixed with hissed whispers.

His stomach clenched as he approached the door. He hesitated, then gave a short rap. There was a gasp on the other side of the door, and then Kristen said, “We need a few more minutes to get ready.”

“You were ready.”

“Uh...” More water noises. More whispers.

“What's going on?” He rapped again. “Come on. What's going on in there?”

“Nothing.”

“I'm counting to three. One...”

The door cracked open. Grady pushed it the rest of the way open, then almost fell over when he saw Katie.

“How?”

It was the only word he could manage.
How
had Katie managed to dye half of her head pink?

The girls shuffled guiltily. “We already got most of it off.”

He didn't think so. “What is it?” he asked, coming into the tiny room to get a closer look.

Both girls shrugged. “Something that came with the new cake baking set.”

Food coloring perhaps? Two fresh dresses hung from the towel bar, ready to replace the wet ones they were wearing.

Grady did his best to be positive as he freaked out. “Okay, the dresses—that's good, but what about your hair?”

Katie picked up a dripping hank of pink hair and dropped it again. Her lip shook a little; then she sucked it up and said, “I wanted a little pink streak in my hair. My friend Rose's mom let her have a little pink streak for the awards.”

“Why didn't you ask your mom to help you?”

“We thought she'd say no,” Kristen said. “So I helped, but more came out than was s'posed to.”

Better to ask for forgiveness than permission—a strategy he was well familiar with. But neither forgiveness nor permission was going to help them now.

“I...uh...don't know what to do,” he admitted to himself out loud as he took a closer look. “A hat maybe?”

“We don't got hats.”

“Except for winter ones.”

Somehow he didn't think a knit cap was the answer. Desperation jabbed him as he fought for a solution to partially pink, dripping wet hair. She'd gotten a streak all right—one that covered about a third of her head. The top of one ear was pink, too.

“You could braid it,” Kristen said, “and hide some of the pink.” Katie's face brightened, then fell again as Grady shook his head.

“I'm not talented in that particular arena. Can you braid?” he asked Kristen. She shook her head sadly.

“Lex taught me,” Katie said. “But I can't do my own hair yet.”

“Well, we've got to do something. We may not be early like your mom asked, but if we can figure something out fast—”

“Mom might not kill us?” Katie asked hopefully.

“I was thinking more along the lines of we won't be that late.” Killing was a given at this point.

He walked around his niece, trying to figure out his next move, visualizing what the rodeo girls had taught him to do with his horse's tail while they were flirting with him in high school. Over, under, over...stick in a ribbon. He could do it...or something close to it.

He pulled the new hair dryer off the shelf and clicked it to high as he pointed it at Katie's head. He was probably setting in the color and doing all kinds of wrong, but darn it, they were going to make that ceremony. Once her hair was dry—which thankfully hadn't taken that long—he set the dryer on the back of the toilet and assessed. The pink wasn't a soft petal pink that would have blended with her natural blond—it approached neon. It needed to be hidden.

“Katie, change your dress fast. Kristen, find me a brush and some hair dudes while she changes. Then you go change.” Kristen frowned at him and he said, “You know, rubber bands or whatever they're called.”

“Elastics,” Katie said as she grabbed her dress off the towel bar and headed for the door.

“And some kind of bow,” he said to Kristen, who was now rummaging through drawers. “Something really, really big.”

* * *

L
EX
GOT
BACK
from her dental appointment earlier than expected, and while she'd offered to watch the store, she was glad when Danielle insisted on putting up the bee-back-soon sign with the little honey bee on the corner. Several small businesses took time off every year for this event. Thanks to a grant and a dedicated county librarian, the city made a big deal about their reading program. The winners at each grade level received prizes and a special award from the mayor and were then guests of honor at a sundae-making party and the games and prize drawings that followed.

Lex and Danielle and Annie managed to get front-row seats in the parents' section, and Annie stacked all of their purses on Grady's chair. As soon as they were seated, Annie checked her watch, then craned her neck, trying to see the parking lot. “They're supposed to be here by now.”

“Maybe Grady lost track of time.”

“He better not have. Last year they missed getting Dedicated Reader Awards by only a couple books, and it crushed them.” Annie pulled out her phone and started texting.

The chairs were rapidly filling up and soon there were none left except for the one next to Annie, and only two empty chairs on the stage.

The head librarian, Mr. Westcott, took the microphone and welcomed the families and friends of this year's dedicated readers. He explained the program as Annie squirmed in her seat. Next he handed the microphone to the mayor and just as Annie reached in her purse to take her phone out again, Grady's truck roared into the parking lot. Annie's shoulders relaxed and then, as she caught sight of the girls jogging on either side of Grady, they stiffened again. It was pretty obvious why.

One of the twins looked as though she was dressed for an awards ceremony—cute dress, shiny black shoes, curled hair bouncing on her shoulders. The other twin... Katie, maybe?...also had on a cute dress and shiny black shoes. Her hair, however, was twisted up into a bun thing, and balanced in front of the bun was what appeared to be a floral display.

“Oh, dear heavens,” Annie said on a low groan.

The girls took their seats behind the mayor, and Grady stepped to the side of the stage, shifting his weight and folding his arms over his chest. He looked relieved and stressed at the same time. And maybe a little afraid. He didn't so much as glance their way.

Lex pressed her lips together, because it was all she could do to keep a straight face when she looked back at Katie. Flowers everywhere. She wouldn't have been surprised to discover that duct tape was involved somewhere in the process.

“She looks adorable,” Danielle said, patting Annie's knee.

“I think her hair is pink,” Annie responded.

“How can you tell?” Lex asked. It was hard to see her hair with all the flowers.

Awards were given, Katie's hair stayed up for the most part and she only lost two flowers on the way to the podium. Another little girl picked them up and solemnly handed them back as Katie took her seat. Grady stayed where he was, out of harm's way, but Lex didn't think that was going to last for long.

After the mayor announced the award winners, Annie found her girls and hugged them, telling them how proud she was. Even though she gave the pink hair a long, hard look, she didn't say a word as she hugged Katie again, kissed her head and told her to get in line. Then she stood up and zeroed in on her brother, still standing twenty feet away. He made a helpless gesture and started toward them. Lex knew she should leave, but there was no way she was missing out on this explanation.

“I appreciate you babysitting, Grady. Really, I do—”

“She wanted a pink streak in her hair. Like Rose. I had nothing to do with it.”

“Somehow she doesn't look like Rose,” Annie pointed out.

“She has roses...” Grady smiled weakly.

“That she does.” Annie settled her hands on her hips, then let out a sigh. “You get points for creativity.”

“I had to duct-tape some of the lower flowers. Hopefully it won't hurt too much when you take them out.”

“Of course you duct-taped them.” Annie shook her head. “Go have a sundae, Grady.”

“Yeah. I'll do that.” He started toward the line, where Katie and Kristen were.

“I think he did a decent job,” Lex said. Surprisingly she meant it. He must have been horrified to find that he had a neon pink–haired kid on his hands. A laugh welled up inside her, but she choked it back and gave a small cough.

“Yeah,” Annie replied. “But it's still a touch embarrassing.”

“I'm sure she'll be in the picture they put on the front page of the newspaper,” Lex said. The reporter had certainly taken enough photos of her, knowing a human interest story when he saw one.

“No doubt.” Annie smiled up at her. “Do you want to get a sundae?”

“No. I'll head back to the shop. Enjoy yourself.”

“Thanks.”

Before Lex turned to go, Grady caught her eye from where he stood in line between the twins, and she saw something she didn't usually see in his expression. Uncertainty. Good. Guys like Grady needed a little uncertainty in their lives.

* * *

T
HE
DUCKS
ARRIVED
the next day, along with their grateful owner, Peter's grandmother, Nancy, a plump woman in her late seventies who'd at one time been her down-the-road neighbor. Each duck had a name, and Nancy had thoughtfully provided Lex with an identification key. To Lex's untrained eyes, all the female ducks looked the same, both in the labeled photos and in person. The only one she could identify from the photo was Channing, the drake.

“I named him after Channing Tatum,” Nancy confided. “I waited a long time to hatch such a perfect specimen.”

“Excellent choice,” Lex said. “I see the resemblance.”

With Peter's help, they set up the pen, made of sections of grid fencing—complete with a protective screen over the top—and the portable pond, which needed to have water running through it all the time to keep it fresh. Then there were food troughs, bags of food, a duck house. When they were done, Lex understood why Peter had called her. Not many people would have had the space for this.