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Wyoming Brides

Page 26

by Debbie Macomber


  “Actually…” He paused again. “I, uh, wondered if it might be a little boring—hardly any restaurants or clubs. I mean, what do you do for entertainment? Besides, I thought you were a city girl.”

  “I am…. I was. And for entertainment, we have bingo and the county fair and—”

  “If you had the opportunity, you’d move back to the city, right?” He made it more statement than question.

  “Oh, sure,” she responded without much consideration. Almost as soon as the words were out of her mouth, she wondered if that was true. Joy loved Wyoming and everything she’d learned about life in a town like Red Springs. She’d made friends and felt she’d become part of the community.

  “I phoned to let you know my travel plans have been confirmed,” Josh said. He seemed to expect her to comment.

  Joy tore her gaze away from the empty pie tin. “That’s good news,” she said, adding, “I look forward to seeing you,” although that seemed oddly formal. Tucking the portable phone between her shoulder and ear, she walked over to the refrigerator and opened the bottom bin, where she found a bag of Granny Smith apples. She counted out six.

  “Joy?”

  If Josh had asked her something, she hadn’t heard it. “I’m sorry, I missed what you said.”

  “Perhaps I should call another time. Or I’ll e-mail you.”

  “Fine,” she said.

  “Bye.”

  She set the apples on the counter. “Bye,” she echoed, and realized Josh had hung up. He hadn’t even waited until she’d said goodbye. Then again, maybe she’d kept him waiting a little too long.

  Nine

  “A re you going into town?” Tom asked Lonny late Friday afternoon as they rode toward the barn.

  “I guess so,” Lonny said. He’d been in the saddle from dawn, they both had, and he wasn’t in any mood to shower and drive all the way into Red Springs. He’d prefer something cold to drink and a long hot soak. Still, Letty would have his hide if he didn’t show up for that auction. The entire town would be there. The bake sale auction had been hyped on the radio all week by Honey Sue Jameson, and Chase told him the original idea had been Letty’s. Nope, he wouldn’t dare disappoint her, or he’d have Chase mad at him, too. Not to mention that it was his one chance to make things right with Joy.

  “If you do, could I tag along?” Tom asked.

  This surprised Lonny, since Tom didn’t often ask for favors. Little by little, he’d revealed some of what his home life had been like. Lonny knew it was a sign of trust that the boy had confided in him at all. Based on what Tom had said, he was much better off not living with his father. Lonny wanted to help him in whatever way he could. Tom was smart and should be in college or trade school. The best person to talk to was a high school counselor—or maybe Joy. She related well to kids and knew a lot more than he did about scholarships and educational opportunities.

  Tom had a real knack for horsemanship and an intuitive connection with animals. His patience and skill impressed Lonny; without much difficulty he could see Tom as a veterinarian. He’d mentioned it one evening and Tom had gotten flustered and quickly changed the subject. Later Tom had said it was best not to get his hopes up about anything like that. He had no chance of ever going to school, no matter how long he worked or how much money he saved. But Lonny felt there had to be a solution, and he was determined to find it.

  “You can come along if you want,” Lonny told him. He didn’t ask for an explanation but suspected Tom’s interest had to do with Michelle Larson. Which reminded him—he’d promised Charley Larson he’d speak to the boy about that dance.

  “Thanks,” Tom mumbled as he headed off to his room in the barn.

  “Be ready in an hour,” Lonny shouted after him.

  Tom half turned, nodding.

  Lonny finished tending to Moonshine, his gelding, and then hurried into the house for a long, hot shower. The mirror was fogged when he got out and began to shave. Normally he took care of that in the morning, but tonight he wanted his skin to be smooth in case—his thoughts came to a shuddering halt. In case he had the opportunity to kiss Joy again. It wasn’t likely to happen, but he couldn’t help hoping. He frowned. He’d rather tussle with a porcupine, he told himself, than cross her again.

  Lonny snickered out loud. That wasn’t true and it was time he fessed up. Not once had he stopped thinking about Joy. She was on his mind every minute of every day. It was her face, her eyes, that he saw when he drifted off to sleep at night, and her rose-scented perfume he thought about. When he woke in the morning, the first thing that popped into his mind was the memory of holding her and the kisses they’d shared. She was there all the times in between, too. Lonny didn’t like it. Not thinking about her was a losing battle, so he figured he’d give in and try to win her over. As he’d told Letty, he’d blown it with Joy. Lonny Ellison wasn’t a quitter, though. He hadn’t gotten all those rodeo buckles by walking away from a challenge, and he wasn’t about to start now. Not that he’d compare Joy Fuller to an ornery bull or an angry bronc. Well, not really. He chuckled at the thought.

  By the time he’d shaved—fortunately without nicking himself—changed into a clean pair of Levi’s and a stiff new shirt Letty had bought him last Christmas, Lonny figured he was well on his way to showing off his better side. No matter what Joy said or did, Lonny was determined not to lose his temper.

  Tom was outside, leaning against the pickup, when Lonny stepped out of the house and bounded down the back steps. The boy had dressed in his best clothes, too. As soon as Lonny appeared, Tom hopped into the passenger seat.

  “You goin’ to the bake auction?” Lonny asked conversationally.

  Tom had the window rolled down, his elbow resting on the narrow ledge. “I was thinking about it,” he admitted.

  “Me, too. I got a hankering for something sweet.”

  Tom didn’t comment.

  “Nothing like home-baked goods.”

  Tom offered him a half smile and nodded in agreement.

  “Will Michelle Larson be there?” Lonny asked. That question got an immediate rise out of Tom. He jerked his elbow back inside the truck and straightened abruptly.

  “Maybe,” he answered, glaring at Lonny as if he resented the question. “What about Ms. Fuller?”

  That caught Lonny unawares. Apparently Tom knew more about him than he’d assumed. “I suppose she might be,” he grumbled in reply. His hired hand’s message had been received, and Lonny didn’t ask any further questions.

  In fact, neither of them said another word until they reached town. Lonny suspected there’d be a good audience for the charity event, but he hadn’t expected there’d be so much traffic around the community center that he’d have trouble getting a parking spot. As soon as they found a vacant space—ten minutes later—and parked, Tom climbed out of the truck. With a quick wave, he disappeared into the crowd.

  Lonny didn’t know how Tom intended to get home, but if his hired hand wasn’t worried about it, then he wasn’t, either.

  When Lonny entered the community center, it was hard to tell there was a bingo game in progress. People roamed about the room, chatting and visiting, while Bill Franklin struggled to be heard over the chatter. A table, loaded with a delectable display of homemade goodies, was set up on stage.

  Bill did his best to call out the bingo numbers but ended up having to shout into the microphone. This was possibly the biggest turnout for a bingo event in Red Springs history.

  Goldie Frank stood up and shouted, “Bingo!” then proceeded to wave her card wildly.

  Bill seemed downright relieved. There was scattered applause as Goldie came forward to accept her prize.

  “That’s the end of the first round of bingo for the evening,” Bill said loudly, the sound system reverberating as he did. “There will now be a baked goods auction to raise funds for the carnival. Don Jameson from 1050 AM radio is our auctioneer.”

  That announcement was followed by another polite round of applause. Don Jam
eson stepped up to the front of the room and Bill handed him the microphone.

  Lonny saw Letty and Chase and noticed there was an empty chair at their table. Weaving his way through the crowd, he took the opportunity to search for Joy, trying not to be too obvious. He half hoped she’d be sitting with his sister. She wasn’t. When he did find her, she was with Carol Anderson. The two women sat near the back, and Joy seemed to be enjoying herself, chatting animatedly with Carol and her husband.

  Lonny nearly stumbled over his own feet. It’d been nearly a week since he’d seen Joy. For the life of him, he couldn’t remember her being that pretty. He took a second look. Hot damn! His sister was easy on the eyes and so were other women in town; Joy, however, was striking. In fact, she was beautiful.

  “Lonny?” Someone tugged at his sleeve.

  Letty’s voice broke into his thoughts, and he realized he’d stopped dead in the middle of the room, staring at Joy Fuller with his mouth practically hanging open.

  “Chase and I saved you a seat.”

  Despite Letty’s insistent tone, he couldn’t drag his eyes from Joy. Unfortunately she happened to glance up just then. The room’s noise seemed to fade as they stared at each other.

  A few seconds later, Joy narrowed her eyes and deliberately turned away. He blinked and finally dropped his gaze.

  “Lonny,” his sister said again, tugging at his arm. “Did you hear me?”

  “I’m coming,” he muttered. He didn’t need to look back at Joy to know she was watching him. He could sense that she didn’t want him there.

  Her attitude didn’t bode well for any conciliatory effort on his part. Still, he was up to the challenge, no matter how difficult she made it.

  After exchanging greetings with Chase, Lonny took the chair next to Letty and focused his attention on the table of baked goods. As he studied the display, it occurred to him that he might not know what Joy had baked.

  “Those peanut butter cookies look appetizing, don’t they?” his sister whispered, leaning toward him.

  “I suppose.” Plenty of the other goodies did, as well.

  “The apple pie, too.”

  There appeared to be several apple pies.

  “The pie closest to the front is the one you should notice.”

  “Oh.” It took Lonny longer than it should have to understand what his sister was trying to tell him. He brightened. “Peanut butter, you say.”

  Letty winked and he smiled back conspiratorially.

  Generally speaking, a cookie was a cookie, as far as Lonny was concerned. Right then and there, however, he had the worst hankering for peanut butter. Of course, they could’ve been made with sawdust and Lonny wouldn’t have cared.

  The first item up for auction was Betty Sanders’s butterhorn rolls. Chase made the first bid of twenty dollars for the entire batch. Another hand went up, and there were three or four other bids in quick succession. In the end Chase got the rolls but it cost him nearly fifty bucks.

  He stood and withdrew his wallet, grumbling all the while that he preferred it when he could meet Betty in the parking lot and buy what he wanted before anyone else had a chance.

  The next item up was a coconut cake baked by Mary and Michelle Larson. It didn’t come as any surprise when Tom made the opening bid. Two or three others entered the bidding, but just when it seemed that Tom was about to walk away with the cake, someone else doubled the bid. Lonny whirled around and saw that it was Al Brighton’s boy, Kenny, who’d stepped in at the last minute. Kenny got to his feet, glaring across the room at Tom, who stood at the back of the hall. Tom shrugged and bid again. The room watched as the two teenage boys squared off. When the bid reached a hundred dollars, Mary Larson hurried up to the stage and whispered in Don Jameson’s ear.

  “Mary has offered to bake a second coconut cake,” Don announced, “so you can each have one. Is that agreeable?”

  Kenny’s body language said it wasn’t. He looked at Tom, and Tom nodded.

  “All right,” Kenny conceded with bad grace.

  Don’s gavel hit the podium as he said into the microphone, “Two coconut cakes for one hundred dollars each.”

  The room erupted into chaotic noise.

  “This is getting a little rich for my blood,” Letty whispered to Lonny.

  As luck would have it, Joy’s peanut butter cookies came on the auction block next. Don hadn’t even begun to describe them when Lonny’s hand shot into the air. “Fifty dollars,” he called out.

  The room went quiet.

  After the two previous bids, no one seemed interested in raising the amount and that suited him just fine. Lonny sighed with relief.

  “Fifty-one,” a female voice said.

  Frowning, Lonny craned his neck to see who was bidding against him. To his utter astonishment, it was Joy Fuller.

  “Sixty,” he shouted, annoyed that she’d do this.

  “Sixty-one,” was her immediate response.

  Don glanced from one to the other. “Just a minute, Ms. Fuller, aren’t you the one who donated these cookies?”

  “I am,” she told him. “Now I want them back.”

  What she wanted was to make sure Lonny didn’t buy them. “What’s she doing that for?” he asked his sister.

  Letty looked as puzzled as he did. “I don’t have a clue.”

  “Seventy dollars,” Lonny offered. If she wanted to bid him up, then there was nothing he could do about it, except to keep going. The money would benefit the community. His sister seemed to think this would help in his efforts to settle his dispute with Joy, so her bidding against him made no sense.

  “Seventy-one,” she called back.

  Letty frowned and covered Lonny’s hand with her own. “Let Joy have them,” she whispered.

  “But…” Lonny hated to lose, and it bothered him to let her have those cookies. Surely Joy could see what he was trying to do here! Lonny didn’t understand her actions; still, he figured he should trust Letty. He backed down so Joy could have the winning bid on her own peanut butter cookies.

  He saw her come forward and collect the cookies. Then she immediately made her way to the exit.

  “I’ll be right back,” he whispered to Letty as he quickly got up and followed.

  It took him a few minutes to find her in the community center parking lot, which was dark and quiet. Lonny could hear the auction taking place inside, could hear Don’s amplified voice and the din of laughter and bursts of applause. By the time he reached her, Joy had unlocked her car.

  “Joy, wait,” Lonny called. Then, thinking he should tread lightly, he amended his greeting. “Ms. Fuller.” He felt as if he were back in grade school and didn’t like it.

  She tensed, standing outside her little green PT Cruiser. Her purse and the tin of cookies were inside, resting on the passenger seat.

  “What do you want now?” she demanded, crossing her arms.

  She was already mad at him, and he hadn’t done a damned thing wrong. “Why’d you do that?” he asked, genuinely curious. “Why’d you bid against me?”

  She didn’t answer him; instead she asked a question of her own. “Why can’t you just leave me alone?”

  “I don’t know,” he said with a shrug. “I guess I’ve gotten used to having you around.”

  She cracked a smile. “I couldn’t let you buy those cookies.”

  “Why not?” Lonny didn’t get this at all. Frowning, he shoved his hands inside his jeans pockets. “Do you dislike me that much?”

  Her eyes shot up to meet his and she slowly shook her head. “No.” Her voice was barely audible. “I don’t dislike you, Lonny. I never have. It’s just that—”

  “Is it because I called you skinny?”

  She assured him that wasn’t the reason. “And it isn’t because of the accident,” she said. “Either one.”

  “Do you mind giving me a clue, then?”

  For a moment he thought she was going to ignore his question. “I forgot the salt,” she finally told him.


  “Excuse me?”

  “The salt,” she said, more loudly this time. “Just before the auction today, I took out a cookie to sample. I hadn’t tasted one earlier and when I did, I realized what I’d done. It was too late to withdraw them or to bake a new batch.” She sighed despondently. “I was working so hard to impress you and then to do something stupid like that…”

  She wanted to impress him? This was exactly the kind of news he’d been hoping to hear. He propped one foot against her car bumper. “Really?”

  Her gaze narrowed. “Get that smug look off your face,” she snapped.

  Now he knew why she’d given him the evil eye earlier. That had been a warning not to bid on her cookies, only he hadn’t been smart enough to figure it out. Actually he was glad he’d bid; at least he’d shown her how interested he was.

  Her eyes glistened as if she were about to cry. Lonny had dealt with his share of difficult situations over the years. He’d delivered calves in the middle of a lightning storm, dealt with rattlesnakes, faced drunken cowboys—but he couldn’t handle a weeping woman.

  “I would’ve eaten every one of those cookies and not said a word,” he told Joy. Then, wanting to comfort her, he gently drew her into his arms.

  Joy stared wordlessly up at him. She started to say something, then stopped. Frankly he’d rather she didn’t speak because he could tell from the look in her eyes that she wanted the same thing he did. He brought his mouth to hers.

  He heard her moan or maybe that was him. This—holding her in his arms, kissing her—was what he’d been thinking about all week, what he’d been dreaming about, too.

  Her mouth was soft and pliable and responsive. She raised her arms and circled his neck, and that was all the encouragement Lonny needed. Immediately he deepened the kiss, locking his arms around her waist.

  She moaned again, quietly at first, and then a bit louder. Lonny pulled her tight against him so she’d know exactly what she was doing to him and how much he wanted her.

  Suddenly, without the slightest hint, she broke off the kiss and took two paces back. At first Lonny was too stunned to react. He stared at her, hardly knowing what to think.

 

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