Clay enjoyed the feel of her next to him. It had been a long time. "Was he your top match?"
"No, thank goodness. I was using him for practice. How about Julia?"
"Yep."
"She wasn't so bad. The talking was probably nerves."
"Nerves for two hours? That's one high-strung filly."
"Oh, don't refer to women as horses. You know I can't stand that."
He did, and he'd said it to rankle her. A habit they'd fallen into.
"My number-one match wasn't rated that much higher than George. I hope that's not a bad sign."
"You thinking about calling it quits?"
She pulled back and gave him a look. "No way. Besides, our names are in the database now. Maybe we'll get matched with more people."
"Maybe." But dare or no dare, the thought of Autumn dating a bunch of men right under his nose didn't thrill him.
They cut around the curved stone wall of a garden and climbed the several steps from the river to street level.
Autumn's black Bronco gleamed in the parking-lot lights. Clay watched while she unlocked the door. "How's the gas mileage on this thing?"
"Could be better."
Clay rested his hand on the hood. "You know, I sort of miss your old Buick."
"It was a good car, but its time had come. Passed, actually."
"I remember the night you got that car," he said quietly.
Autumn stilled.
"It was cold and clear, just like tonight."
And he'd been mortified to hear their fathers talking, especially the hormones crack. The truth was, his hormones were running a little wild where she was concerned and it had embarrassed him to know that his father had guessed. He should have laughed it off, but back then, he'd been seventeen and hadn't known what to say to her, so he'd said nothing.
He'd been paying for it ever since.
"It is chilly." Autumn drew in a breath and tossed him a brittle smile. "I don't see your truck."
"I'm parked on the other side of Crockett."
"Back there?"
He nodded.
"Hop in and I'll drive you."
Clay did so, more because he wanted to follow Autumn on the drive back than because he minded the walk. She drove right to his pickup.
"Hang on and I'll follow you home," he said before closing the door.
Autumn lowered the window as Clay walked in front of her Bronco. "You don't have to follow me.''
He leaned down. "No, but I want to." He slapped the car and got into his truck.
The sight of Clay's headlights in her rearview mirror reminded Autumn of all those drives from San Antonio to Fort Worth and back when they were in college together. Their parents had always insisted on Clay following her and it used to bug Autumn, but Clay took his responsibility for her safety very seriously.
She hadn't been nice to him some of those times. Once, she'd given him a huge thermos of coffee before they'd started out, then hadn't stopped for a rest-room break for the whole trip. And, even worse, she'd driven slowly, dragging a three-hour trip into four.
Other times, she'd left without telling him or deliberately turned onto side roads so she'd lose him.
Now, she found the steady sight of his headlights reassuring.
You don't have to follow me.
No, but I want to. '
Had he wanted to? Really?
Or was she still just another one of his responsibilities?
YELLOW ROSE MATCHMAKERS MATCH
EVALUATION
NAME OF DATE: George Garza ACTIVITY: Dinner
WOULD YOU DATE THIS PERSON AGAIN? Not in a million years.
WHY OR WHY NOT? He's a boring weaselly cheapskate who should be removed from the Yellow Rose database so other women won't have to suffer through a date with him.
DID YOU FIND ATTRIBUTES OF THIS MATCH THAT ARE INCOMPATIBLE WITH TRAITS YOU DESIRE IN A MATE? BE SPECIFIC. A PERSONALITY PROFILE IS ENCLOSED FOR YOUR REFERENCE. Easy. He has no personality. Are you sure he filled out a form!
YELLOW ROSE MATCHMAKERS MATCH
EVALUATION
NAME OF DATE: Julia Holbrook ACTIVITY: Dinner
WOULD YOU DATE THIS PERSON AGAIN? Maybe.
WHY OR WHY NOT? I don't think she got a fair shake since we hooked up with another couple. Maybe I didn't get a fair shake.
DID YOU FIND ATTRIBUTES OF THIS MATCH THAT ARE INCOMPATIBLE WITH TRAITS YOU DESIRE IN A MATE? BE SPECIFIC. A PERSONALITY PROFILE IS ENCLOSED FOR YOUR REFERENCE. She's noisy. Talks a lot I'd like a woman who knows when to be quiet and who knows what I'm thinking almost before I do. But that's nothing against Julia. It's asking a lot of a woman, and I don't expect that the first time out. A woman would have to know me for years before we could have that kind of a relationship. Never mind.
CHAPTER FOUR
FAX
To: D. Reese, Reese Ranch
From: N. Barnett, Golden B Ranch
Talk to Autumn and find out why she’s dating other men.
Nellie
FACSIMILE
To: Nellie Barnett, Golden B
From: Debra Reese, Reese Ranch
What do you expect her to do if Clayton is going to flaunt other women in front of her?
Debra
Autumn worked all day on Tuesdays, which meant her mother had to tend to the morning chores by herself. To make it up to her, Autumn would make the coffee and fix breakfast before she left, so the food would be waiting when her mother was finished.
But when she entered the kitchen this morning, Autumn found her mother sipping a mug of coffee as she stared out the kitchen window over the sink. She had on her work clothes, and the dampness on the edges of her boots told Autumn she'd already been outside.
"Couldn't sleep?" Autumn asked.
"I woke up early and didn't feel like staying in bed." Debra sipped her coffee. "How was your date last night?" She sounded tired and she didn't look at Autumn when she spoke.
"He was pretty awful." Autumn told her bits and pieces, hoping they could share a good laugh, but her mother didn't smile.
"Where did you meet him?"
Autumn knew her mother wasn't going to like the answer. "I went to Yellow Rose Matchmakers to ask for a donation, and while I was there, I signed up. Clay did, too," she added as though that would make the news more palatable to her mother.
Slowly, Debra turned her head to stare. "Why?"
If Autumn didn't leave within twenty minutes, she risked being late. Driving to San Antonio wasn't the problem—driving through the morning traffic in the city was.
Though people thought of San Antonio as a laid-back village, it was actually a big city, the number-one tourist destination in Texas, with all a city's problems and traffic.
Now was not the time to have this conversation, but Autumn suspected she was going to have it anyway. For the first time in years, it appeared her mother would actually listen—and maybe even believe.
"Clay and I thought it would be a good way to meet other people."
"Why?" Debra repeated.
Autumn poured herself a cup of coffee. She was going to have to be blunt. "I'm aware that you and Clay's parents—and everyone else we know—expect us to get married. But we aren't."
Debra's eyebrows drew together. "Did you two have a fight?"
Maybe it would be the same conversation after all. Autumn poured too much milk into her coffee, then had to heat the mug in the microwave. "No. We were never going to get married. Ever."
"But you love each other."
Autumn muttered and hoped the hum of the microwave kept her mother from hearing. "As a brother and sister, maybe." She ignored the non-brotherly look Clay had given her at the Yellow Rose. And she definitely ignored her non-sisterly response. "We certainly fight like a brother and sister."
"I see." Debra turned back to the window. The gray morning light highlighted the lines in her face and the silver in her hair. For the first time, Autumn noticed that her mother was a
ging. She was only in her fifties, but the past year without Autumn's father had been difficult for her. Autumn was just noticing how difficult.
The microwave dinged. Autumn retrieved her cup.
"And Clayton feels this way, too?"
Why did it matter how Clay felt? She felt that way. Wasn't that enough? "I don't know how Clay feels."
Hope lit her mother's eyes. "Then you should talk with him."
"No!" Autumn set the mug on the counter before she could hurl it across the room. "I don't want to talk with Clay. There's nothing to talk about! Why can't you understand that? I don't know who started the idea that Clay and I were going to get married, but it didn't come from us." Years of frustration bubbled over. "Do you have any idea how aggravating it is to be asked about our plans all the time? To be paired up all the time? And nobody listens when I tell them we aren't getting married. It's like it's already been decided for us and we have no choice at all. Well, Mom, I want a choice."
During Autumn's ranting, her mother had silently stared out the window. "Sometimes," she said slowly, "life chooses for us."
She was thinking about Autumn's father. Autumn walked over to the sink and gave her mother a hug. "I'm sorry, Mom."
"No, I'm sorry. No one meant to pressure you into marrying Clay. We all just thought..." Debra's voice trailed off and she patted Autumn's arm. "So tell me about Clay's date."
Autumn told her about the vivacious Julia. "But Clay thinks she talks too much."
"She was probably nervous. I'm sure she'll calm down on future dates."
"He won't be dating her anymore."
"Really? She sounds quite nice from the way you described her."
Autumn downed the rest of her coffee. No time for breakfast. "She probably is nice. But she's not right for Clay."
"Well, I'm sure he'll find someone." Debra cocked her head to one side. "You know, I think that sweet Jackie Dutton has always had a crush on Clayton."
"Clay and Jackie Dutton?" Autumn tried to pair the two up in her mind. It was true that at the New Year's Day meeting, Jackie had admired Clay's... "I don't think so."
"And why not?"
"Because...because she isn't right for him, that's why."
Her mother eyed Autumn with an unreadable expression. "I think I'll give her mother a call."
"Mom! Tell me you aren't trying to set Jackie up with Clay?"
"Why, Autumn, what do you care? You've convinced me that you want nothing to do with Clayton, and that now makes him the most eligible bachelor in the area."
The most eligible bachelor in the area was ambushed by his mother with a plate of eggs and hot biscuits.
Nellie Barnett was a petite blonde with the business savvy it took to run what amounted to a family corporation. She was not the cook—unless she was troubled.
Clayton eyed the family breakfast table, which was loaded with slabs of ham and hash browns, as well as the biscuits and eggs.
"I've got pears left from the Fruit of the Month Club. Want one? '
Nellie stood poised with pear and knife, so Clay thought it would be wise to nod yes and have a seat. Nellie finished cutting the pear and poured his coffee, then a cup for herself, sat at the table and studied him.
It was The Look.
Clay dug into his eggs and stared at his plate as he chewed. He was a grown man, and still Nellie's Look made him uncomfortable even when he hadn't done anything wrong.
As a boy, he'd rushed to confess whatever he'd done that he suspected his mother had found out about. Years later, he'd learned that she sometimes just gave him The Look to see what he'd been up to.
Hardened ranch hands bowed their heads and stared at their boots as they scuffed the dirt when subjected to Nellie's Look.
"Aw, Nellie..." his own father would say, and look chastened.
And his mother would reply, "Let's not discuss it in front of the boy."
Clay figured he was getting The Look now because of his date last night. He risked eye contact and discovered that his mother's face was almost as tight as it had been at Thanksgiving when he'd invited Kristin to visit. That had gone over like a lead balloon.
He swallowed a mouthful of eggs and reached for his coffee. "Aren't you hungry?"
"Not particularly."
Clay forced himself to keep from saying anything more. He drank his coffee and waited.
"I heard you had a date last night," Nellie began at last.
"Yes."
"Does Autumn know?"
"She was there."
His mother's face relaxed. "Oh, so—"
"With her date," Clay added quickly.
Nellie made a disgusted sound. "What do you two think you're doing?"
"Dating."
"Why?"
"The usual reasons people date."
"People date because they're looking for someone to settle down with. You and Autumn have each other."
It was time he faced this assumption head-on. "Now that's where the truth parts company with what everyone thinks. Much as you might wish it so, Autumn and I see it differently."
"And how do you see it?"
"I see that Autumn is not looking in my direction for a husband." The admission caused him a pang, but he'd learned to ignore pangs where Autumn was concerned.
"Have you given her any reason to look in your direction?"
What for? Autumn knew where he was. She'd always known. And it was getting embarrassing for both of them just waiting around until she found someone else. She felt the pressure and he...didn't want to think about it. "Autumn and I want different things out of life. She's going to go back to school, then start practicing law."
"She can do that from here! We...we all thought it was very clever of her to study ranching law. It would've brought in enough income to cover you in the lean years...oh, Clay." Nellie's face crumpled in distress. "It was going to be so perfect."
"I know what you and Autumn's parents wanted, Mom. Now I'd appreciate it if you would just back off." And Clay met her distressed gaze with a Look of his own.
His mother blinked first. Stealing a section of pear from his plate, she asked, "Is she someone we know?"
"Who?"
"The woman you took to dinner last night."
Clay shook his head.
"Then where did you meet her?"
Clay's breakfast was getting cold, but he resigned himself and explained about signing up at the Yellow Rose.
His mother's mouth opened and closed. "And Autumn's date?"
"Missed out," Clay said. He was unable to prevent a grin.
Nellie gave him a speculative look but wisely said nothing more on the subject. "Hurry and finish up. Your father's in the birthing barn and it looks like he's going to have to pull that crossbred heifer."
"I'll go give him a hand." Clay rose immediately, though calf pulling wasn't his favorite activity. He plopped his hat on his head, slipped on an old down vest and went quickly out the door. Jogging across the gravel yard, he was more than happy to escape further conversation with his mother about Autumn.
The Golden B scheduled their spring calving for February and March, with the first-calf heifers being bred early to give them extra time to recover before the next breeding season.
Since later January and early February weather could still have some nasty cold rain, the Golden B had built a barn and pens to house the early calves. One section was designated the delivery ward.
It was here that Clay found his father with the heifer. Hank Barnett had already secured the cow's head and was washing his arms up to the elbows with disinfectant.
"Need some help?" Clay asked.
"I'm not so old I can't still pull a calf but not so young I wouldn't appreciate a hand," Hank said.
Clay washed up, then handed his father the sterile obstetrical chains. After watching the animal's movements, Hank reached into the cow, attached the chains to the front legs of the calf and adjusted them.
As he worked to dilate
the cow, he grunted, "You talk to your mother?"
"Yes."
"And?"
"And what?"
"Son, Ben's been dead for more than a year, and Autumn hasn't gone back to school. What are you two waiting for?"
"Autumn is going back to school this summer."
"Not if she's got a wedding to plan."
"True. But she won't be planning it with me."
Hank looked up at his son. "You're not trying to tell me she turned you down?"
"I never asked her."
"Clayton—"
The cow shifted and drew Hank's attention. He gestured for Clay to bring the calf puller. They braced it against the cow's backside and hooked it up. Hank then began the laborious task of pulling free the calf s front legs, head and shoulders.
Once he'd done so, the rest of the calf followed easily, and soon a curly-haired newborn calf was lying on the straw bedding, steaming in the crisp morning air.
"I'll get the ear tag and record the stats," Clay said.
"Just look at that new life," said his weary father, taking a moment to catch his breath.
"Yeah."
It didn't matter how many times the cycle was repeated, it never failed to bring a sense of serenity to Clay. Ranching was his life, and he considered the land a sacred trust to be worked and maintained and passed down to the next generation.
His father looked at him, and Clay knew he was thinking about the future and wondering why Autumn was no longer a part of it.
"About Autumn..." Clay began. "I know what everyone expected...but it isn't going to happen."
Hank turned to the water spigot. "You sure?"
In his mind, Clay could see Autumn's expression with her brittle smile. If ever there was a don't-touch-me look, that was it. "Pretty much."
"Sorry to hear that." Soaping up, Hank added, "This is gonna change things some."
FAX
To: Debra Reese, R. Ranch
From: N. Barnett, G B Ranch
What happened? How could they both sign up at the Yellow Rose and not be matched
together? There must be some mistake.
I'm giving the Yellow Rose a call and demanding that they recalculate their
forms, or whatever they do to match people. In the meantime, should we get Clay and Autumn together and talk sense into them?
Nellie
Hand-Picked Husband Page 5
