I bite my lip. “I’m sorry the whole thing blindsided you in public like that. It really wasn’t my intention.”
I hold my breath and look at his mouth. The pulse in his neck looks like it’s going to jump right out of his skin, and he turns away from me to drum his fingers on his knee.
“I guess it all worked the way it was supposed to.” I breathe out the next sentence like I’m being held at gunpoint. “I’m your past, and Gigi’s your future.”
The pain of the statement cuts through my throat and chest like the sharpest blade of a knife. Logan goes so quiet I nearly ask him if he’s okay.
It’s at least thirty seconds before he answers me. “I guess I’ll have the ‘something old’ gift that every wedding’s supposed to have.”
Even though that’s just for the bride. But I don’t say anything.
Logan shifts toward me and faces me head-on like he’s trying to tell me something. It’s right there in his eyes, but I can’t read him.
“I’m not sure what else to say.” I gnaw at my lip like I’m going to tear it off.
Logan stands up abruptly and turns away from me, but not fast enough. The pain in his eyes nearly blinds me.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” I ask his back.
“Yeah. Let’s go to sleep, okay?”
“I’ll be up in a minute. You go.”
He walks across the pebbled river’s edge, turns for the wooden steps, and disappears.
And I let the tears that were lodged in my throat tear out of me.
Chapter Forty-Two
I can’t wait for the Hunt County Fair. The target contest is a great distraction from the Make Your Match contest, which is on my last nerve. But I promised Ginny I’d ask Mama for help.
So, after theater rehearsal this week, I ask Mama if she can do some research.
My mother’s thrilled to be asked. I take her to the bar with me, and she voraciously dives into Vivian’s diary while I pour Dye a drink and check on this week’s shipments.
“Here!” Mama shoves the diary into my hands.
I look down at the open page. “What?”
Mama takes Vivian’s diary back from me and flips forward a few pages. “Cemented in the West. See? Not in New York City.”
“What?!” I grab it back from her. “Where did you see that?”
She leans over The Cowherd bar and shows me the clue. “The love will be cemented in the West.”
I sigh. “Mama, keep looking. Logan and Gigi met in West Texas, and Ginny is the one who needs hope right now. I know you and Daddy are Team Wild, but…”
“We are not!” Mama’s so indignant she actually takes off her prescription shades to glare at me. “We’re on our daughter’s side, and if our daughter wants Ginny and Dave, then that’s who we’re rooting for, too!”
I look over at Dye, who gives me the thumbs-up. “I’m Team Ginny, too, darlin’. I’m even going to the County Fair for the first time since Donna left me. You know why? I want to see you beat the crap out of that Manhattan girl in the target contest.”
Mama pumps her fist in the air and then returns to the diary and starts flipping through it. “Listen to this: ‘Tis a blooming flower of cacti origin once the spirit exits.”
Mama looks up at me and beams.
I look back at her blankly. “What? What is it?”
“When Jane’s ghost goes free and exits the cell, a cactus flower will immediately bloom on the jail cell floor, right out of the concrete!”
“How does that help Ginny?” I say. “Logan met Gigi in the desert, for Christ’s sake. Cacti only grow in deserts.”
“Not true.” Mama shakes her head emphatically. “We have them right here at the Nature Center in town. I visit the cacti all the time.”
“You visit the cacti? Why would you do that?”
“I have a special connection to plants that survive, even thrive, in harsh environments,” Mama waxes on. “Living with your father has been so taxing on me. Just like poor Jane suffering alone in her cell all these years. Speaking of which, I thought you did a very nice job with your lines at rehearsal today. Maybe try to beef up the last half a bit, though. Queen Austen could be our best play yet.”
“Oh, my God, Mama.” I bang the heel of my hand against my forehead. “Jane Austen didn’t ask to be Queen of Austen, or Queen of a Jail, or Queen of anything. She just wanted to tell a good story.”
Dye calls out, “That’s a good one, Macey. Jane Austen was a great storyteller. We should get a plaque and put it on her cell.”
“Like an epitaph!” Mama says. “Why didn’t I think of that before? Dye, what a fabulous idea.”
Dye tips his cowboy hat Mama’s way.
“Seriously, what am I going to tell Ginny tomorrow?” I ask. “She needs some positive news.”
Mama looks down again at the diary. “Right here it says there will be shared blood between them. Ginny and Dave are fifth cousins once removed.”
“They are?”
“Helena Rattles told me so herself. So there you have it—the perfect clue.”
“Dave and I are cousins?” Ginny asks me in a horrified voice the next day.
“Not really,” I assure her, glaring at Ben when he cracks up next to me behind the bar. “Just fifth once removed. It’s supposed to be a good thing. You know, because of the clue. It could mean you’re the soul mates Vivian’s referring to in her diary.”
“But what does fifth cousins once removed even mean?” Ginny spins on her stool and reaches for her phone.
“I’m not sure. But I know it doesn’t mean you’re super close genetically. Your baby’s definitely fine. You even had those tests done already, and the doctor gave you the all-clear.”
“I just can’t believe Dave is my cousin.” Ginny shakes her head. “It’s like a bad dream. I have to text Mama now and find out why she never told me.”
Speak of the mother.
Mrs. Rattles strides into The Cowherd and right up to Ginny’s stool.
Mr. Bingley picks that moment to jump onto Ginny’s lap, and she clutches him tightly, almost like a security blanket.
“Mama! Dave and I are cousins?”
Mrs. Rattles gives a dismissive wave. “So not the time, dear. Girls, I have terrible news. We have to move Ginny’s wedding up again. I want it this month. A June wedding.”
“But that’s impossible,” I say. “Everything’s set.”
“Logan Wild and his socialite girlfriend are tying the knot before Independence Day now.” Mrs. Rattles sniffs. “I heard something about July second. That’s far too close to my daughter’s wedding on the first.”
“What?”
I swear to God.
I grab the saloon’s calendar and check the dates. Sure enough—Logan and Gigi are now penciled in on July second.
I turn to Ben. “Did you know about this?”
“Nope. No clue.” He turns away to start setting up the bar for tonight.
“They’re just trying to get closer to my Ginny’s day. It’s all Gigi’s doing. I’m sure she thinks she can intimidate us with her daddy’s oil money.” Mrs. Rattles leans her elbows on the counter and gets closer to me.
I try to back up, but Ben is behind me, cleaning the glasses.
“Mrs. Rattles,” I say. “Once Gigi decided to have two weddings, I’m sure there was some conflict or another, and so she simply changed the Darcy date without giving a thought to anyone else. It’s like nothing’s an obstacle for that girl.”
“Well, everything’s an obstacle on our end.” Mrs. Rattles sniffs. “I want this wedding date changed ASAP! At least a couple of days before Logan’s.”
“But whoever goes first doesn’t necessarily win, Mama,” Ginny says. “It’s about who’s right for each other.”
“I don’t care about the stupid ghost story and its silly claims about being right or wrong!” Mrs. Rattles says. “Virginia, you will open that door and get all the good press that comes with it. You will!”
&n
bsp; Her shouts scare Mr. Bingley, and he wisely jumps off Ginny’s lap and disappears down the hall.
“Try to relax, Mrs. Rattles.” I look down at the calendar. “How’s June thirtieth? That could work on our end.”
“Fine. I’ll call everyone but the florist. Mace, can you do that for me?”
“Of course.”
Mrs. Rattles grabs Ginny by the arm and drags her out of the bar.
While I’m on my cell with Lexi, begging her to come through with the bridal bouquet earlier than planned, Logan walks through the door.
He’s wearing his cowboy hat, and sweat’s coming off his brow, so I know he’s been working in the fields. His t-shirt’s damp, and his arms are slightly sunburned. He looks hot in more ways than one.
I haven’t seen him since we all went tubing the other day.
He walks up to the bar and folds his arms over the counter. I let Ben make him a Loganiskey, and I wait until he’s halfway through drinking it before I hang up with Lexi.
“That went okay, thank goodness,” I say to Ben before turning to Logan. “I have to change everything because you and your fiancée changed your wedding date again. Did you go to my father for the approval? Because I certainly didn’t know about the change on our schedule.”
Ben looks around for something to do, but he can’t move from behind the bar because Logan and I are right over the swing door. He gives up and listens to our conversation with interest.
Logan exhales. “I’m not trying to screw up anyone’s schedule. Gigi said we had to change the date or we couldn’t go to Orlando. I don’t know why; that’s what her wedding planner told her. They got a cancellation for July seventh for the castle, so she figured—why wait?”
“Why wait,” I repeat.
“So in order to get to Florida in time, she had to move the Darcy wedding back.”
“Look, I’m maiden of honor for the most difficult redneck-Victorian wedding ever,” I say as Ben breaks into a laugh. “Complete with a dominating mother, an untrustworthy groom, and a very reluctant bride. And when Gigi gets involved and keeps calling the shots…”
“Sounds like you don’t want to come to my wedding,” Logan says slowly. “And I understand, Mace. I’m sor…”
But I cut him off. “Of course I don’t! The last thing on God’s green earth I’ve ever wanted to do is witness Logan Wild’s wedding to somebody who’s…”
“Not me” nearly slips out, but I rein in those last two words just in time.
I glance over at Ben, and I know he knows what I was about to say. He swallows and looks at Logan, who reaches out like he’s going to touch my hand but then pulls back at the last second.
“You’re a great friend to Ginny,” Logan says gently. “But you and I have always had our doubts about Ginny and Dave. They’re the cliché. You know, marrying your high school sweetheart for all the wrong reasons.”
“Doesn’t have to be a high school sweetheart to be wrong,” Ben says casually. “There are bad relationships all over the place.”
Logan gives Ben a hard look as he downs the rest of his drink and stands up. “I’ll see y’all on Saturday at the County Fair.”
“Have you entered the bronc riding competition?” I ask him curiously.
“I did. And Luke’s coming down to watch with Brayden.”
“That sounds fun.”
“Will you come watch?” he asks me, his gaze steady on mine.
I swallow. “Um…if you want me to be there…”
“I do,” he says immediately.
“Okay,” I say. “I’ll be there then.”
Logan nods. “And I’ll be in the stands for the target contest.”
“You’ll be rooting for the enemy, though,” I say in an effort to make light of it. “So Ben won’t be able to stand with you.”
Logan gives a wave and walks out.
After he leaves, Ben shakes his head. “He’s edgy about something.”
“How do you know that?” I ask him.
“I’m a guy. Trust me, he’s panicking. And this mess with Gigi is his own damn fault.”
Chapter Forty-Three
The night before the County Fair, Free stops by my duplex. She has a paper with her, the extra-credit one I was supposed to help her with ages ago.
“I’m sorry,” I say as we sit down. “I’ve been so busy.”
“It was a blessing in disguise because I finished it myself!” She grins at me.
“All of it?”
I can’t remember Free ever finishing a paper on her own. Everything else, yes. Papers, no.
“Thanks to Blake.”
I suck in a breath. “Blake helped you?”
“He didn’t actually help me write it. He encouraged me to try to do it on my own. He said he thought I might be selling myself short.”
Huh. “That was decent of him.”
“I know. And so I did. Isn’t that cool?” she says proudly. “And I got an A.”
“You didn’t even need the grade to graduate,” I tease her. “You’re definitely making the rest of us Henwoods look like huge slackers.”
She takes a long look at my face. “I saw the afghan ‘Gigi’ gave to Logan.” She puts air quotes around “Gigi.”
I sigh. “It wasn’t on purpose, okay? I was knitting it here at home, for myself maybe, or…”
“For Logan,” she says.
I laugh. “It’s a hundred degrees out, but I knitted an afghan while I sat in my sixty-seven degree, air-conditioned house.”
Free looks at me. “You okay?”
I nod and she touches my arm. “You’re so much prettier than her,” she says. “And you know he knows it, too. And you can kick her ass in the target contest tomorrow.”
“I don’t want to compete with another woman. That’s not the kind of situation I want to be in.” I sigh. “Gigi’s a nice girl. She and I don’t exactly mesh, but I’m going to try harder.”
“You seem like you’re trying pretty hard,” Free says. “And I’m going to be rooting for you at the fair.”
“Thanks. I’m sure it will help.” I hug her goodbye. “You’re all grown up, aren’t you?”
“Lord, I hope so. But I can tell it doesn’t get any easier.”
“I wish it did.”
God, I wish it did.
Chapter Forty-Four
I get to the Darcy Fairgrounds early on Saturday. I don’t want anything—traffic, crowds, or personal issues—throwing me off my mark today. I’m the first contestant here, so I go to the sign-in area and give my name. Mayor Huggins greets me warmly and wonders aloud if anybody will beat me this year.
“Somebody new perhaps?” he says. “I don’t think any of our regulars stand a chance against you, Ms. Henwood.”
I thank him, but inside I’m trembling. Because if ever there were a year to beat me, it’s this one. I’m distracted, plus I’ve made the contest personal, two of the worst things a shooter can do.
As current champion, I have the honor of shooting last.
When it’s Gigi’s turn, I stand alone and watch. Logan and Blake are here with Luke and Brayden from Montana, and I see Gigi’s parents next to Logan. Gigi’s got a whole section of fans as well. Some hold up signs saying “Darcy’s True Heroine—Go Gigi” and “Gigi—The Woman to Free Jane.”
Ginny and Dave are next to my family, and Ginny waves to me and gives me a thumbs-up.
An entire row of the crowd is made up of reporters. I roll my eyes when I see Skip and Jon lurking with a camera and ever-eager smiles.
Gigi giggles at the crowd and then gets serious. I prepare myself for what I witnessed at The Cowherd the other day, but turns out I didn’t have to worry after all.
Gigi doesn’t shoot today like she did then. She shoots like an amateur. She misses more than she hits, and she’s so pissed off about it. She whines and complains about the shotgun and the targets and the sun in her eyes. It’s like she’s never lost anything before in her life. I go over to offer a few words of
comfort, and then I go use the restrooms inside the white one-story building near the 4-H club.
When I leave the bathroom a few minutes later, I bump into Logan texting on his phone.
He startles when he sees me.
“Hey.”
“Hey.” I go to move past him, but he reaches out and catches my wrist.
And time stops. I can’t stop looking into his eyes, which seem to want to tell me something. I step closer and put my hand on his bicep as my pulse races. I forget we’re in a public place and that prying eyes can see everything. I forget that I’m touching a man who’s spoken for, and honestly, I don’t really care right now.
Logan’s hand goes around the small of my back as he leans down and says into my hair, “Good luck today, Macey. You always had the best shot. Still do.” Then, he stands up straight, pulls back from me, and walks away.
Everyone’s having an off day for some reason. Must be part of Gigi’s mojo because by the time it’s my turn, Gigi actually has a chance to place in the top tier. If I don’t.
Ginny cheers loudly when Mayor Huggins announces my name, and Mama gives me the thumbs-up and a big wink that she thinks only I will see.
I pick up my gun and walk to the first mark. I aim, cock, release the safety, and shoot a perfect shot. Gigi oohs and aahs along with everybody else. I do it again, and by the time a half hour is up, Mayor Huggins presents me with the trophy. With a shake of his head, he says he might as well give me the trophy for next year a year early because nobody “can hit a target like Austen Macey Henwood.”
I look for Logan, but all I can see is his back as he and his cousins head for the rodeo ring. I want to tell the mayor he’s wrong. Not all targets can be hit. Not if they’re no longer in close enough range for you to reach them.
I don’t wait for the photos the Mayor likes to take every year of all the winners. I’ve never missed one of Logan’s rodeos, and I don’t plan to start now.
When I reach the arena, I push through the crowd until I’m right outside the fencing. The announcer calls out—
Warrior Girl: A Cowboy Romance (Wild Men Texas Book 2) Page 18
