Life After Wife (17 page)

Kate cleared her throat.

“OK, smarty-pants, so I’m a few years on the other side of sixty. Don’t tell these precious cowboys. Let me have my ego boost for the day,” Myrle said.

Kate nodded. “Just so long as you admit you are sixty-one.”

Myrle winked. “Yes ma’am.”

They both knew that Myrle had passed her eightieth birthday more than a year ago, and that she still liked to chase after any man who could square dance or even two-step her around the dance floor. She had a ranch outside of Albany and ran it with a firm hand and an eye for good cattle.

“I’m lookin’ for a good Angus bull today. Hart, did you bring that big old bruiser that I been buggin’ you about?” Myrle asked.

“No, ma’am. That bull ain’t never goin’ to be for sale. He’s producin’ a calf crop that is sellin’ high every spring,” Hart said.

“Well, dang it! What you got…hey, Theron, come on over. We got room for one more. You got any bulls for sale?”

Theron carried his plate to the end of the table and settled in before he answered. “No, Miz Myrle. I brought a few heifers, couple with calves beside them, but no bulls. I’m savin’ them for the spring sale at my place. I did well this mornin’, Elijah. Thank you for inviting me to add to your sale.”

“And Sophie?” Kate shot Theron a dirty look.

“Sorry about that. Didn’t mean to slight you, Sophie. Y’all have both done up your sale right well. I’ve already talked to Tillman and booked him for ours next spring. You should be out among the buyers. They’re all talkin’ about how this is the best sale they’ve seen in years. The food has been good, and the fact they don’t have to go into town for every meal is great.”

“Next year, I’m thinkin’ of putting in some trailer spaces for the ones who want to park here,” Sophie said.

Elijah jerked his head around to stare at her.

“Don’t be thinkin’ you’re the only one with big plans in the makin’,” Sophie told him.

Kate burst out in a guffaw that had people looking to see what was so funny at the owner’s table. Tanner and Hayden joined in first and then the rest of the table.

“Looks to me like my big brother done met his match,” Hayden said when the laughter died down.

Kate wiped her eyes with the big, square red bandanna that Tillman provided in lieu of napkins. “Looks to me like my friend met hers, too.”

Sophie dressed in a long, denim prairie skirt; an ecru-colored satin camisole covered by a light beige, lace, Western-cut blouse with tiny pearl buttons up the front and from wrist to elbow on the sleeves; and new, tan cowgirl boots. She swept her hair up into a messy French roll, letting the curls fall where they wanted. Then she added a chunky, silver heart-shaped necklace and matching dangling earrings.

“Ready or not, here I come,” she whispered to her reflection in the mirror.

The bull sale that afternoon had been even more spectacular than the morning sale. Aunt Maud was probably kicking up the angel dust on the streets of heaven as she danced around. She was smiling at that idea when she headed for the living room.

She thought of Johnny Cash when she saw Elijah in his matching black Western shirt, slacks, and polished eel boots. His silver belt buckle had even been shined up and his hair slicked back. His brothers both wore starched jeans, white shirts open at the neck, and boots. Their belt buckles were also silver, but they didn’t shine like Elijah’s.

“Whoo-wee,” Hayden whistled through his teeth. “You’ll be the prettiest girl at the party tonight, Miz Sophie. You will save this humble old cowboy one dance, won’t you?”

Sophie couldn’t help but smile. “Hayden, there’s not a humble bone in your body.”

“Joneses had a choice when we was born. We could be humble or good-lookin’. Most of us chose good-lookin’. Elijah, now he’s the exception. He chose neither one and decided he’d be a hero instead,” Tanner said. His voice was deeper than Hayden’s and his drawl more pronounced.

“Is that right? Well, while we are dancin’ tonight, you two will have to tell me all about his heroism,” Sophie said.

“And while we are dancin’, I’ll tell you not to believe anything they say,” Elijah said.

“Wait a minute. Who says she can dance with you?” Hayden teased.

“Who’s big enough to say she can’t?” Elijah asked.

Sophie felt like a queen among a bunch of knights. Maybe not in shining armor, more like in shining Western gear. She enjoyed the easy banter and the camaraderie between the brothers. She’d never had that with her sisters. Maybe it was because Elijah was eight years older than the twins, and she and her two sisters were so close in age.

“We don’t have time to jaw with you two. We have to be at the doors when the party starts. So y’all can stay in here and make a grand entrance or you can come with us. Take your choice.” Elijah offered his arm to Sophie.

She looped hers inside it and wasn’t even shocked at the little sparks that danced around them. She’d admit that she was attracted to Elijah Jones. A woman would have to be stone-cold blind not to be. If she could see him all decked
out in black, wearing that wonderful aftershave, or if she could hear his deep southern drawl when he talked, she’d be attracted to him. It did not mean that anything would come of it.

“We’re going to hang back for half an hour and watch some television. We want to make the entrance,” Tanner said.

“Suit yourselves,” Elijah threw over his shoulder as he and Sophie left the house.

There wasn’t even a hint of a breeze, and the thermometer still shot up close to the three-digit number. Sophie was glad that Tillman had brought in the big air conditioner units and the barn was cool.

After the sale was finished that afternoon and everyone cleared out, Gus had commanded a team that quickly removed the pen from the center of the barn and then brought in the power washer to clean up the floor. In three hours, the barn was transformed from a sale barn to a party barn with bales of hay set up to separate the dance floor from the band and tables lined up diagonally and covered with crisp white cloths. Tillman even brought bolts of red, white, and blue illusion and draped the walls from balcony rails to floor. When he turned on his portable air conditioners, the thin illusion flowed like a gentle breeze was chasing through the barn. Red carnations in milk-white, glass bud vases decorated the tables, along with candles set in wrought iron holders made from horseshoes and covered with glass globes to keep the wind from blowing out the flames.

“Wow!” Sophie exclaimed when they stepped inside the barn doors.

“Looks great, don’t it? Just what I imagined for this year’s sale. Next year we’ll do something different,” Elijah said.

“Such as?”

“Different theme mainly for the party. The rest I’d like to keep pretty much the same. We’ll get a reputation for having a fantastic sale, and it’ll keep the buyers coming back. Did you know that Aussie bought two bulls and he’s having them shipped all the way over there? He invited us to come to his sale in October. Want to go to Australia?”

Sophie was stunned. “Are you serious?”

Hart and Kate entered the barn before Elijah could answer.

“Don’t you two look happy,” Kate said.

“We are happy. We had a fabulous sale today. Glad y’all came back for the party. You are the first ones here so help yourself to the food,” Elijah said.

“That’s not fair to the other guests.” Hart’s eyes twinkled. “Kate can eat a whole steer when she’s hungry. Once she gets full, there might not be anything left.”

Kate slapped his arm. She’d chosen a red satin shirt that night, sleeveless with rhinestone buttons and trim on the yoke; red boots; and a bright red flower in her black hair to set it off.

Sophie hugged her. “You are beautiful.”

“No, Fancy is the pretty one. You are the smart one, and you know what that makes me, but thank you.” Kate laughed and dragged Hart toward the food tables where waiters in white shirts and black slacks waited to help them with whatever they wanted.

“What was that all about?” Elijah asked.

“Ever hear that old song by K.T. Oslin called ‘80’s Ladies’?”

He nodded.

“Well, there’s a line in it that says one was pretty, one was smart, and one was a borderline fool. When we all got together last year at Fancy’s grandma’s house and figured
out that we were all living back in this area, we were talking and Kate said that Fancy was the pretty one, I was the smart one, and she was the borderline fool.”

“Why?”

“Fancy’s always been petite and cute,” Sophie said.

“And you are smart, no doubt about that,” Elijah said.

Her heart floated above her body for a few minutes at that compliment.

“Why was Kate the borderline fool?” he asked.

“Because she couldn’t get Hart Ducaine out of her heart. She fell in love with him when she was fifteen and measured every other man by his yardstick,” Sophie said.

“I see,” Elijah said.

“Fancy!” Sophie squealed. “You came.”

Fancy and Theron looked so darn cute together. It was like fate put them in Albany, Texas, at the same time just so they’d meet. Fancy at four feet eleven inches and Theron at barely five feet two were perfect for each other. Fancy had chosen a long skirt much like Sophie’s for the party but topped hers off with a bright yellow shirt that set off her blonde hair and big blue eyes.

“Of course, I wouldn’t miss your sale for anything,” Fancy said.

“And besides, my mother and dad came for the weekend so she’s not worried about Glory,” Theron said.

“I thought we were calling her Emma-Gwen,” Sophie said.

“We did too, but Tina says she looks like a Glory and it’s stuck,” Fancy said. “Come on, darlin’, I see food.”

Theron shook hands with Elijah and said, “She’s only called home four times since we left Albany.”

“Oh, don’t be tellin’ on me now.” Fancy tugged at his hand.

Theron winked at Sophie and allowed Fancy to drag him off to the food table and then over to where Kate and Hart were seated.

The guests came in spurts. Half a dozen, then twenty, and then a whole trainload. At eight o’clock Hayden and Tanner made their appearance, ate, and were dancing by eight thirty.

“My feet hurt. My face is about to freeze forever in this expression. And I really need something to drink,” Sophie said.

“I suppose we’ve done our duty. Let’s get a beer and mingle. Hungry?” Elijah asked.

“Starving. Let’s eat first and then mingle,” she suggested.

He put his hand on the small of her back and guided her toward the table. From past experience she knew that there wouldn’t be a red mark on her back where he touched her, but it sure felt extra warm. They fixed plates and carried them to the table where their friends had saved two chairs.

The dance floor was full, the band playing one country song after another, from Conway Twitty to the Zac Brown Band and everything in between. Fancy and Theron were on the dance floor executing such a smooth two-step that it was fluid beauty.

“They should go on that dance thing on television,” Sophie said.

“Who?” Elijah asked.

“Fancy and Theron. Watch them. They are really good together.”

“Eat up, darlin’, and we’ll beat them all to pieces,” Elijah said.

“You dance? You’re kidding me,” she said.

“No, ma’am. Jones boys have rhythm. Look at Tanner out there with that tall blonde. And he’s the clumsy one in the family,” Elijah said.

She located Tanner and his partner on the floor, and they were indeed every bit as graceful as Fancy and Theron. Her hands went sweaty at the prospect of dancing with Elijah. She hadn’t been on the dance floor since the sale the year before and then it was only to dance a couple of times with men who continually stepped on her toes. Her husband had hated to dance, had absolutely no rhythm for dancing or singing. He couldn’t carry a tune in a bucket with the lid welded tight, and had three left feet on the dance floor. The only time he’d ever waltzed her around the floor was the day they got married, and that was only for the first minute of the song and just to satisfy his obligation. Charisma poured from his pores when he talked, and he could preach a sermon that would bring a die-hard sinner to his knees. But he couldn’t dance, and Sophie loved to dance.

When they finished their meal, Elijah pushed back his chair and said, “Miz Sophie, may I have this dance?”

She let him lead her to the dance floor and noticed when he nodded at the singer. “What is going on?” she whispered.

The lead singer finished his song and then leaned close to the microphone. “I’ve been told that this has been a good day for the ranch. The sale was beyond expectations and now the owners, Elijah Jones and Sophie McSwain, are going to dance to ‘Cowboys and Angels,’ an old Garth Brooks tune.”

Elijah drew Sophie into his arms. She put one hand in his and an arm around his neck. From his first step, she was lost in the song and in the flawless execution of the finest two-steppin’ she’d ever known. Elijah sang with Garth, his breath and the words of the song sending multicolored sparks floating around them like Independence Day fireworks.

Elijah and Garth sang about a cowboy who was stubborn and proud, reckless and loud, and how God noticed he’d never make it on his own. So God took thunder and passion, patience and wonder, and sent down the best thing that He’d ever made.