One Lucky Cowboy (36 page)

   An elderly man in the next booth laughed so hard he had to wipe his eyes on a paper napkin. "Momma, that girl fights like you used to," he told his wife.

   "Oh, hush, you old fool. She's just protecting her rights. When you was a good-lookin' husband like that, I'd have fought Bette Davis for you," she said.

   Jane started giggling. It turned into a full-fledged infectious laugh that had Slade and everyone around joining in. Kristy flaunted out the door in a huff, which made everything even funnier.

   "Are we ever going anywhere that one of your women don't show up?" she asked Slade.

   "Hey, you don't get to answer that after what your fiancé did."

   "I'd love to hear that story," the lady behind them said.

   "It would take too long," Slade assured her. "You finished?" he asked Jane.

   "I'll take the milk shake with me."

   "I'm just glad she didn't make you mad. I didn't bring that much money with me," he said when they were outside.

   "She don't get to make me mad anymore. That would give her power and she's not worth it," Jane said.

   "You are a strange woman, lady," Slade said as he drove west a few blocks and turned back south toward the park. The night was hot and humid with no wind. The sun had barely set and the stars were starting to pop out around the half moon like little pieces of diamond. He parked and retrieved the blanket from the backseat.

   She'd pondered on the statement he'd made about her being strange for several minutes and decided he was simply stating a fact. She
was strange when compared t
o other women her age. Life's twists and turns had made her that way and she made no apologies and offered no excuses. If she was strange, then so be it.

   A whole hoard of bugs met her when she opened the truck door. She stepped out into oppressive heat and became instant supper for a dozen blood-sucking varmints.

   "It's too hot to swing. I'd be a sweaty mess in ten minutes, and the mosquitoes are already eating me alive. Can I change my mind?"

   "This is your date. What do you want to do?"

   "Go home, Slade. I want to go home. The girls are playing poker so I don't want to go to the house. Can we take our blanket and go to my five acres?"

   He pitched the blanket back where he'd found it. "We can do that. Tell me what you intend to do with five acres? It's not enough to keep five horses on."

   "The horses have several sections of land to roam around on with your horses. I didn't even think of the horses when I asked Nellie to sell me the land."

   "What did you think?"

   "That if I had a piece of the Double L, I would belong there."

   That blew his mind out of Montague County and somewhere near the Gulf of Mexico. "Why would you want to belong there? I know you said you felt at home, Jane. But is this a passing thing or is it for real?"

   "It's the most real thing I've ever experienced, Slade. Take me to the five acres and I'll show you what I'm going to do."

   For that bit of information he would have carried her there on his back. He drove too fast and was lucky the highway patrolmen were busy eating donuts or having supper with their wives. When he reached the corner of the Double L that she'd paid Nellie an exorbitant fee for, she got out of the truck and inhaled deeply.

   "It's mine. It wasn't my grandmother's. It wasn't my mother's or my father's. It's my land and I'm putting a double-wide trailer on it." She spread the blanket out on the grass in the pasture and laid down on her back.

   "A trailer. You're shittin' me."

   "No, Slade, I'm not. I told you at the beach in Florida I wanted a little house."

   "Why?"

   "Because if I have a little house, then by damn my husband can't get mad at me and go pout in the den while I'm a mile away in the east wing of the mansion. If I'm at home all day cooking his meals and helping run a ranch, he can't spend every other night in a penthouse with the excuse he's working late. In a little house, we have to live so close that we have to make up when we fight because there's no room for the tension and anger."

   He stretched out on the blanket beside her. "You got it all figured out, don't you?"

   "Pretty much. My trailer is going right here facing that way. You are stretched out on my sofa right now," she said.

   "Pretty damn wide for a sofa," he said.

   She tugged at the corner of the blanket. "Move the damn thing this way about six feet."

   "Why in the devil would I do that?"

   "Because if it stays here it's in the spot where I envi sion my living room and it's too damn wide for a sofa, so we'll move it to where the bedroom will be. Looks like it's about the right size for a queen-size bed to me," she grinned.

   He moved the blanket, laid back down, and laced his fingers behind his neck.

   She snuggled up next to him and laid her head on his chest. "Okay, cowboy, we had really good sex when we were scared shitless and when we were piss drunk. We're both sober and there's nothing out here to scare the bejesus out of us, so let's see if the third time is the charm. Will we find that we don't like it when things are normal or that it's just as good as ever? My five acres is far enough out here that no one can see us making love on this blanket. I don't care about a couple of mosquito bites on my naked ass. How about you?"

   She straddled his chest and leaned forward until her mouth found his. He wrapped his arms around her, letting his fingers slip under her shirt to feel bare skin. No one had ever made him feel like Jane did—but what would happen if they had sober sex and she declared it wasn't as good as scared or piss-drunk sex?

   "You sure about this?" he whispered hoarsely.

   "You?"

   "I'll show you sure!" He tumbled her over on her back and kissed her until she couldn't breathe. He slipped the shirt over her head and removed her bra then tugged her pants down and tossed them off the blanket. Another dozen kisses and she deftly flipped him over and returned the favor.

   Under the moonlight with only the lightning bugs and one stray raccoon peeping around a fence post to watch, Slade made love to Jane. The emotional explo sion that would put an atomic bomb to shame was for their benefit only. The raccoon didn't see it and the light from the fireflies wasn't dimmed a bit. But it was there on their pretend queen-size bed, proving they didn't need adrenaline or liquor to fuel the sparks. It was the meeting of souls and hearts, the kind that would never diminish, no matter where or when.

   "So?" She bit his earlobe gently. "That all you got or is there an encore?"

   He groaned. "You're a vixen, lady."

   "Yes, I am and don't you forget it."

   The night breeze chilled the slick sweat on their bodies and she pulled the edge of the blanket around them. "Well?"

   "Give me ten minutes and I'll show you an encore that surpasses the main performance."

   "I think you are a real cowboy," she giggled.

   "What's that mean?"

   She sang part of the old song about not calling him a cowboy until you've seen him ride. She laughed aloud 'cause she could tell he was blushing.

   He pulled her closer to him, liking the way she fit into the crook of his arm.

   "So when does the trailer arrive?"

   "You want to talk about the trailer? You only got eight more minutes. Don't you think you'd best be thinkin' about something else?" she asked.

   "I'm just catching my breath. Don't you worry about the second round. I can keep up with you, Jane Day Hayes!"

   "Okay then, trailer will be here in about a month. The septic tank people are coming next week and so are the folks who'll be putting in the well. After that, it's the electrical folks and then the house can be brought in. James has taken care of all of it for me. He's my lawyer on call now."

   "A month, huh?" he asked. He'd miss her being down the hall from him every night. There was something about knowing that she was close that brought peace, if you could call any proximity to Jane Hayes peaceful.

   "So are we coming out here to this blanket-on-the ground bed thing during that month?" he asked.

   "Here. My bedroom. Your bedroom. The hay loft. Wherever, whenever we can find time. I hear a bell in the distance. I think that means round two is about to start." She kissed his eyelids.

   He groaned.

   "You've got a month to propose to me. If you're too damn bashful or can't seem to get the job done by the end of a month, then I'll propose to you," she whispered.

   "What?" he stammered.

   "You'll get used to the idea. I'm not losing you, Slade. You're the only man in the world I trust with my heart and soul. So take your choice. You can propose or I will. Oh, by the way, I don't want a diamond. A plain gold band like Nellie wears is what I want."

   "Good grief! You're telling me how to propose and what kind of ring to buy?" he raised his voice.

   "That's right, Slade Luckadeau. You couldn't run me off the first time around and you damn sure ain't goin' to this time, especially after tonight. Now shut your mouth and let's do something other than talk."

   He wrapped his arms tightly around her and kissed her hard. By damn, he would propose within the next month. He'd never live it down if he didn't.

IT WAS A GLORIOUS SEPTEMBER MORNING. NOT TOO HOT, but sunny and bright with no rain clouds in sight. White cloths covered tables in the backyard. Centerpieces of fresh wildflowers arranged in Mason jars with wide orange ribbons around them were scattered down the tables. The deck had been transformed into a stage for a wedding. Illusion and ivy intertwined on an arch, and rows of white folding chairs lined up to accommodate the early birds. The rest could sit around the tables.

   Caterers were busy putting last-minute details into play.

   The preacher waited in the living room with Slade, Beau, and Griffin.

   Jane paced the floor of her bedroom in the shirt she'd borrowed from Slade. The hairdresser who'd arrived earlier suggested she wear a button-down shirt to keep from messing up her hairdo and the veil that fit over a crown of curls and hung down her back.

   No doubts plagued her. She was doing the right thing. She was home. Her heart was here. Her house was in place. She and Slade had picked out the furniture and it had arrived the day before. But she was so nervous she could hardly be still. Finally she picked up the box from the dresser and went into the bathroom.

   She took a deep breath and opened the box. The actual test only took long enough to pee on a stick. The next sixty seconds lasted five days past eternity. She sat down on the potty and shut her eyes tightly. When she opened them, she was only mildly surprised.

   That done, she tossed the stick in the trash can and went back to her bedroom, where she found Celia and Milli getting dressed in matching orange floral sun dresses. Celia's was halter-styled, fitted to the waist, with a short straight skirt. Milli's was an empire with a fuller skirt that stopped at her knee.

   "It's about time. Did you pee one last time? That dress is so snug it'd take a bottle of Vaseline to get it up if you have to go again," Celia said.

   Jane nodded. "How much time have I got?"

   "Enough to crawl out that window and be gone in five minutes. I've got a rental out there. We could be in Paris, France, not Paris, Texas, by tomorrow morning. You sure about this, Jane?" Celia asked.

   "More sure than anything I've ever done in my life," she said.

   "That's the spirit," Milli said. "By wedding time I was sure, too. It was the weeks before I had my doubts. I even ran away and had to eat crow when I came back."

   "We've
got
to have a shopping trip and exchange stories," Jane said.

   "Anytime. Call me. We'll meet in Gainesville and have a day," Milli said.

   "Okay, let's get her melted into this dress," Celia said.

   "It's not that tight," Jane smiled.

   "I'm teasing. I can't imagine you choosing such a simple thing. The last one was big enough that six little girls were going to carry the train," Celia said.

   Milli giggled. "So was mine. The second one was very simple. I think we do have similar stories."

   Jane removed Slade's shirt and carefully slipped the ankle length sheath of white, lace-covered satin over her head. Sleeveless. Simple neckline that looked wonderful with her grandmother's pearls. Slit up one side to the knee. Ultra plain.

   "Shoes?" Celia asked.

   Jane shook her head.

   Milli looked around for lace-covered bridal boots like she'd worn at her wedding. "Boots?"

   Jane shook her head again.

   "Barefoot?" they chorused together.

   "That's right. I did have my toenails done. Aren't they pretty?" She wiggled the toes on her left foot.

   "So when's the baby due?" Celia asked.

   Jane cocked her head to one side.

   "Barefoot and pregnant—isn't that what the old adage says? So you are barefoot. Are you going to do the pregnant half of the saying on the honeymoon?"

   "Maybe."

   "Don't bet on it. Took us six months to get pregnant the second time. I teased Beau that Katy Scarlett was conceived because he was drunk. Thought for a while there I was going to have to get him drunk again just to get a second child. You got a bottle of champagne hiding? That might help." Milli zipped up the dress and brushed a sponge across Jane's upper lip. "Little sweat there. Methinks me sees nervous."