Wyoming Brides

by Debbie Macomber

  She parked the car and when she got out, he realized that she’d brought him the coconut cake, protected by a plastic dome like the kind they had in diners. Catching sight of him, she frowned. Her pretty blue eyes went soft with concern as she looked at the bruise on his cheek. “Oh, Tom,” she said, walking toward him.

  She reached out to stroke his cheek, but he averted his face, jerking his chin away before she could touch him. At his rejection, pain flashed in her eyes. “I—I brought the cake you bought at the bake sale.”

  “Thanks.” He took it carefully from her hands.

  He figured she’d leave then, but she didn’t.

  “I’ll put it in the house,” he mumbled.

  “Okay.”

  Tom hurried into the kitchen, depositing the cake on the table. She and her mother had done a good job with it, making it almost double the size of the one Kenny had claimed Friday night. That pleased Tom.

  “What are you still doing here?” he asked gruffly when he returned to the yard. He didn’t want her to know how happy he was to see her—despite his injury and his disfigured face.

  “I came to find out if Kenny hurt you.”

  She should worry about the other guy, not him, he thought defiantly. “He didn’t.”

  Her eyes refused to leave his face and after a moment, she nearly dissolved into tears. “I’m so sorry, Tom.”

  “For what? You weren’t to blame.”

  “Yes, I was,” she cried, and her voice quavered. “It was all my fault.”

  Tom shook his head, angry that she’d assume responsibility. Kenny Brighton was the jerk, not Michelle.

  “Kenny asked me to the dance and I told him no. He wanted to know why I wouldn’t go with him and I…I said I…I was going with you.”

  Tom felt his throat close up. “I already told you I can’t take you to the dance.” He didn’t mean to sound angry, but he couldn’t help it.

  “I know, and I’m truly sorry, but I had to tell Kenny something, otherwise he’d pester me. He wouldn’t leave me alone until I gave in and I…I know I shouldn’t have lied. But because I did, he had it in for you and when you bid on the cake, he was mad and started that fight.”

  She was crying openly now. The tears ran down her face and Tom watched helplessly. He’d only seen one other woman cry—his mother—and he hadn’t been able to stand it. He’d always tried to protect her, to comfort her. So Tom did what came naturally, and that was to hold Michelle.

  They’d never touched. All their relationship amounted to was a few conversations at the feed store. He’d liked other girls back home, but he’d never had strong feelings for any of them the way he did Michelle.

  When she slipped so easily into his arms, it was all Tom could do to hold in a sigh. She brought her arms about his waist and pressed her face against his shirt. Tom shyly put his own arms around her and rested his jaw against her hair. She smelled fresh and sweet and he’d never felt this good.

  Michelle sniffled, then dropped her arms. He did the same. “I should go,” she whispered.

  Tom didn’t say anything to stop her, but he didn’t want her to leave.

  She started walking toward her car. “I didn’t tell my parents where I was going and…” She kept her head lowered and after a short pause blurted out, “Why won’t you go to the dance with me?”

  Dread sat heavily on his chest. “I…can’t.”

  “You don’t like me?”

  He laughed, not because what she asked had amused him, but because it was so ludicrous, so far removed from the truth. “Oh, I like you.”

  She gazed up at him and he swore her eyes were the pure blue of an ocean he’d never seen, and deep enough to dive straight into. “I like you, too,” she told him in a whisper. “I like you a lot. I wait for you every week, just hoping you’ll stop by with Lonny. Dad thinks I’m working all these extra hours because I’m saving money for college. That’s not the real reason, though. I’m there on the off-chance you’ll come into town.”

  Although he was secretly thrilled, Tom couldn’t allow her to care for him. He had nothing to offer her.

  He had no future, and his past…his past was something he hoped to keep buried for the rest of his life. “I’m nothing, Michelle, you hear me? Nothing.”

  “Don’t say that,” she countered with a firmness that surprised him. “Don’t ever say that, because it’s not true. I’ve seen you with people and with animals, too. You’re respectful and caring and kind. You don’t want anyone to see it, but you are. You’re not afraid of work, either. Kenny comes to the store with his dad, but he lets other people load up the truck. You’re the first one there, willing to help. I’ve noticed many things about you, Tom. Many things,” she emphasized. “You’re as honorable as my father.”

  That appeared to be the highest compliment she could pay him. Tom didn’t say it, but he’d noticed many things about Michelle Larson, too. What he liked most was the way she believed in him. No one ever had, except his mother. By the time she died, though, she’d been beaten down and miserable. Tom had been determined to get away from the man who’d done that to her—his father—the man who’d tried to destroy him, too. There was no turning back now.

  The pressure on his chest increased. “I’ll see what I can do about that dance,” he said. He couldn’t make her any promises. More than anything, he wanted to go there with Michelle. More than anything he wanted an excuse to hold her again, and smell her hair and maybe even kiss her.

  “Thank you,” she whispered.

  Then before he could stop her, she pressed the palm of her hand against his cheek. His jaw still ached a bit. Not much; just enough to remind him that Kenny Brighton was a dirty fighter and not to be trusted. Taking her wrist, Tom brought her hand to his lips and kissed it.

  Michelle smiled and it seemed—it really did—as if the sun had come out from behind a dark cloud and drenched him in warmth and light. But when she left soon afterward, the sensation of buoyant happiness quickly died. He should never have told her he’d think about the dance.

  An hour later, Lonny returned from church and without a word to Tom marched directly into the house. Tom didn’t know what was wrong and Lonny hadn’t confided in him. Lonny was fair and a good boss, but he hadn’t been in a particularly good mood for the last week or so. Not that it made him rude or unpleasant. Just kind of remote.

  At twelve-thirty, Tom went inside. They took turns preparing meals, and this one was his. Tom found Lonny sitting at the kitchen table, his head in his hands, almost as if he was praying.

  “You feel okay?” Tom asked, wondering what he could do to help.

  Lonny shrugged. “I guess.”

  Tom opened the refrigerator and took out a slab of cheese. Grilled cheese sandwiches were easy enough. That and a can of soup would take care of their appetites.

  “How many sandwiches you want?” he asked.

  “Just one.”

  Tom nodded and took bread out of the plastic container on the kitchen counter. “I heard there’s going to be a dance in town,” he said, hoping he sounded casual and only vaguely interested.

  “You thinking of going?” Lonny asked, showing the first hint of curiosity.

  Tom shrugged, imitating Lonny. “I was thinking about it. Only…” He didn’t finish.

  “Only what?”

  Tom lifted his shoulders again. “All I brought with me is work clothes.” That was all he had, period, but he didn’t mention that part.

  Lonny stood up from the table and looked Tom up and down. “How much you weigh?”

  Tom told him, as well as he could remember.

  “That’s about right. I’ve got an old suit you’re welcome to have if it fits you.”

  Tom’s heart shot straight into his throat. No one had ever given him anything without expecting something in return. “I’ll pay you for it—I insist. How much you want for that suit? If it fits,” he qualified.

  “Fine, pay if you want,” Lonny agreed. “I’ll take a
big fat slice of that as payment,” he said, gesturing toward the coconut cake.

  Tom grinned, satisfied with his response. “You got it.”

  “Fair trade. If you need a ride into town Friday night, let me know.”

  Tom laid the bread, butter side down, in the heated pan. “I’d appreciate it.”

  “You taking Michelle Larson to that dance?” Lonny asked next.

  With his back to the other man, moving the sandwiches around with a spatula, Tom smiled. “Like I said, I was thinking about it.”

  “You do that. She’s a good girl.”

  “I know.” He frowned then, because having something decent to wear was just the first hurdle. It didn’t come easy, letting anyone know how inadequate he was when it came to a situation like this. He glanced over his shoulder and saw that Lonny was watching him. “I’ve never been to a dance before,” he muttered.

  “You’ll enjoy yourself,” Lonny said, reaching for a knife and a couple of plates to serve slices of the cake.

  “I said, I’ve never been to a dance before,” Tom repeated, louder this time. He turned around to properly face his employer.

  Lonny frowned and looked mildly guilty about slicing into Tom’s coconut cake. “There’s nothing to worry about. They might have a real band, or there could be someone playing CDs—I’m not sure how it’ll work this year. The school will arrange to have a few adults there as chaperones.”

  It was plain that Tom would need to spell it out for him. “I don’t know how to dance,” he murmured, breaking eye contact. “What am I supposed to do when the music starts?”

  “Ah.” Lonny nodded sagely. “I see your problem.”

  “Do you know how to dance?” He wouldn’t come right out and ask, but if Lonny volunteered to teach him, Tom would be willing to take lessons, as long as they didn’t interfere with work.

  “Me, dance?” Lonny asked in a jovial tone. “Not really. Mostly I fake it.”

  “Anyone can do that?” Tom wasn’t sure he believed this.

  “I do. I just sort of shuffle my feet and move my arms around a lot and no one’s ever said anything. You like music, don’t you?”

  Tom did. He listened to the country-western station on the radio. “What kind of music do they play at school dances?”

  The question appeared to be difficult because it took Lonny a long time to answer. “Regular music,” he finally said.

  Tom didn’t know what regular music was. He frowned.

  “I’ve got some old movies in the living room somewhere that you might want to watch. They might help you.”

  “What kind of movies?”

  Lonny thought about that for a few minutes. “There’s a couple with John Travolta and one with Kevin Bacon. Hey, that movie might interest you because it’s got a farm boy in it who doesn’t know how to dance, either. Kevin knows a few moves and takes him under his wing. It’s a good movie, great music. Why don’t you watch it?”

  “Okay.” Tom would do just about anything to keep from making a fool of himself in front of Michelle. He needed to learn quickly, too; the dance was only five days away.

  The phone rang then, and Lonny went into the other room to answer it. While he was on the phone, Tom finished preparing the cheese sandwiches. He heated a can of tomato soup and had it dished up and on the table by the time Lonny returned.

  When Lonny came back into the kitchen, he was frowning.

  “Problems?” Tom asked, instantly alert.

  Lonny shook his head. “I’m going to volunteer as a chaperone at that dance.”

  Tom’s suspicions were instantly raised. “Any particular reason?”

  Lonny bit into his grilled cheese sandwich and nodded. “Sounds like Kenny Brighton might be looking for trouble, especially if you turn up with Michelle.”

  Tom bristled. “I can take care of myself.”

  “I don’t doubt it, but Kenny will think twice about starting something if I’m there.”

  Tom didn’t like the idea of Lonny having to hang around the school dance because of him.

  Lonny seemed to sense his reaction. “What about Michelle?” he added. “How’s she going to feel if Kenny beats up on you again?”

  Tom saw the wisdom of what Lonny was saying. “You’d do that for me?” he asked.

  “I offered, didn’t I?”

  Tom’s chest tightened, and he stared down at his plate while he struggled with the emotion that hit him out of nowhere. This rancher, whom he’d known for only a few months, was more of a parent to him than his own father had ever been.

  “Let me see about that suit,” Lonny said when he’d eaten his lunch. He set his dirty dishes in the sink and went upstairs; within minutes he’d returned, holding out a perfectly good brown suit.

  “What do you think?” Lonny asked.

  The suit was far better than Tom had expected. It didn’t look as if it’d ever been worn. “What I think is I should give you that entire coconut cake.”

  Lonny laughed. “Go try this on, and if there’s any of that cake left when you get back, consider yourself fortunate.”

  Tom already knew he was fortunate. He didn’t need a slice of coconut cake to tell him that.

  Twelve

  L etty and Chase often invited Lonny, and now Tom, to join them for dinner on Sunday evenings. Tom had accepted twice, but this week he declined. Before Lonny left, Tom asked if it would be all right if he watched a few of those movies Lonny had mentioned earlier.

  Lonny had no objection to that. He smiled as he pulled out of the yard in his pickup and headed for Chase and Letty’s. He was glad to be able to help the boy, hoping it worked out, with the dance and Michelle and all.

  Lonny drove the short distance to Chase’s ranch, still feeling confused about Joy. He counted on Letty to have some insights on what he should do about his feelings for her. He knew he could be stubborn, but until recently he hadn’t recognized how much his attitude had cost him. For nearly two years, he’d allowed his relationship with Joy to lie fallow. During that time he’d watched her develop friendships in the community, and he knew that everything he’d accused her of was wrong. She was no city slicker; from the first, she’d done her best to become part of the community. Lonny hadn’t wanted to accept that because she’d wounded his pride. He’d wanted her to fail just to prove how right he was. It bothered him to admit that, but it was the truth. He swallowed hard and his hands tightened around the steering wheel. Because of his stubbornness, he’d done a great disservice to Joy—and to himself.

  Plain and simple, Lonny was attracted to Joy—more than attracted. Their kisses over the past few days confirmed what he already knew. Another uncomfortable truth: not once in the last two years had Joy been far from his thoughts. Following their most recent traffic incident—as she’d correctly described it—the potency of that attraction had all but exploded in his face.

  Lonny could acknowledge it now. For two years he’d been in love with Joy. The near-collision had simply brought everything to the surface, and it explained his overreaction to the events of that afternoon. He grinned, thinking about the way he’d stormed at her as if she’d nearly caused a fatal accident. No wonder she was wary of him.

  Deep in thought, Lonny missed the turnoff to Spring Valley Ranch. He must’ve driven here ten thousand times and not once overshot the entrance. The fact that he had today said a lot about his preoccupation with Joy.

  As Lonny drove into the yard, he noticed that Chase was giving Cricket a riding lesson on Jennybird. The little girl rode her pony around the corral while Chase held the lead rope. Chase gave him a quick wave and continued his slow circuit. Meanwhile, Letty sat in a rocking chair on the porch, watching.

  Lonny crossed the yard and joined his sister, claiming the chair next to hers.

  Letty raised her glass of lemonade in greeting. “Tom won’t be coming?” she asked.

  Lonny shook his head. “Not tonight.”

  Letty stood and went inside the house, reappearing a
minute later with a second glass of lemonade, which she handed him.

  “Thanks.” Lonny took a long, thirst-quenching drink, then set down the glass with a disconsolate sigh.

  Letty turned to him. “What’s wrong?”

  His state of mind obviously showed more than Lonny had realized. Rather than blurt out what was troubling him, he shrugged. “I’ve been doing some thinking about Joy and me.”

  His sister sat down again and started rocking. “I’ve been telling you for a whole year that you’re an idiot.” Her smile cut the sharpness of her words.

  “I can’t disagree,” he muttered. Even after being in the rodeo world and dating dozens of women, he was as naive as a twelve-year-old kid about romancing a woman like Joy.

  “Listen,” he said, deciding to speak openly with his sister. “Would you be willing to advise me? Maybe you could even help me—speak to Joy on my behalf.” He wouldn’t normally ask that of Letty, and requesting this kind of favor didn’t come easy.

  Letty hesitated; she rocked back and forth, just the way their mother used to. When she spoke he heard her regret. “Lonny, as much as I’d like to, I can’t do that.”

  He nodded. Actually, that was what he’d expected, but it didn’t hurt to ask.

  “I’ll be happy to offer my opinion, though.”

  He made a noncommittal sound. Letty had never been shy about sharing her opinions, especially when they concerned him.

  “There’s something you should probably know. Something important I learned just today.”

  He tensed. “About Joy?”

  Letty sipped her lemonade. “Josh Howell contacted her.”

  “The college boyfriend?” Lonny’s jaw tightened. Right now, this was the worst piece of news he could hear. When they’d first started dating, Joy had casually mentioned Josh a few times; Lonny had read between the lines and understood that this relationship had played an important role in her past.

  She’d stayed in touch with Josh and although their romance had cooled, Joy still had feelings for the other man. It was early in their own relationship, and Lonny hadn’t wanted Joy to think he was the jealous type, so he’d said nothing. But the fact was, he had been jealous and he hadn’t liked knowing that Joy and this city boy were continuing some kind of involvement, even a diminished one from a distance.