by Tina Leonard
Duke blinked. Checking the back seat, he saw Bug’s shotgun and empty whiskey bottle.
“He won’t need the gun ’til next time,” Liberty said. “Why don’t you just keep it with you at the jail for now? He’ll come get it soon enough.”
He didn’t understand any of what had just happened. But Liberty seemed to, and he was happy to take her suggestion. “What happens now?”
She shrugged. “Now Mrs. Carmine ignores that he went away because she loves him, and he ignores the fact that he’s unhappy because it’s not her fault.”
What a prison. A curse, maybe. Like something out of a Grimm’s fairy tale. Duke plucked at the steering wheel. Maybe Liberty was on to something where they were concerned, though he was hard-pressed to admit it.
Still, he didn’t want her to ever think marriage to him was a jail, though Mr. Parsons seemed to like his own prison well enough. “Ye gods, you people are hard to live with,” he said, and Liberty looked at him.
“So?” she asked. “Your conclusion?”
“That you’re right,” he said slowly. “There really is no happy ending.”
“I think not,” Liberty said, “which is a very scary thought.”
“Damn,” Duke said. “I need to get home and feed my dog.” He started the engine, glad to have an excuse to hurry back to town.
“I thought Mr. Parsons took care of Molly-Jimbo.”
“He feeds her peanuts as a snack,” Duke said righteously. “I want to make certain I head him off at the pass.”
“Does she like the peanuts?”
“Molly likes anything that comes from a human hand.”
“Then what’s the problem?” Liberty asked.
“I don’t like it. A dog should eat dry dog food.”
Liberty raised a brow. “Duke, do you ever bend the rules?”
“No,” Duke said, surprised. “If I did, I wouldn’t be sheriff, would I? At least not a very good one.”
Liberty turned her head to look out the opposite window. “I suppose not.”
They rode in silence until they reached the town square.
“Please drop me off at the Tulips Saloon,” Liberty said.
“It should be closed. No one will be there.”
“I have a key,” Liberty said.
“A key?”
“Yes. Of course. I am one of the co-owners of the saloon,” she said. “Along with Pansy and Helen and a few others, as you very well know. It was our gift to ourselves, a woman-owned business.”
“And a questionable one at that,” Duke grumbled, griping because he knew full-well that the ladies had been catching tourists who came to town with their stained-glass-decorated monument to femininity and womanhood. “I just thought that perhaps since you’d left town, maybe you’d given up your key.”
She looked at him for a long moment, long enough to make his heart shrivel. God, how he wanted to kiss her again, kiss her the way they used to kiss, without worry or hurry or anything more than intense pleasure on their minds.
“I guess you were the only person who thought I’d never come back,” Liberty finally said. She got out of the truck and closed the door, not looking back. The door to the saloon opened for her, and Helen and Pansy peered out at him before snatching Liberty inside and slamming the door.
Heaven only knew how he’d become the villain.
Chapter Three
Duke was proud of three things in his life: his family, his job and his reputation. He loved his sister, Pepper, and his brother, Zach, so it hurt that they might be part of the blue-haired angels’ plan to oust him from the vocation of which he was most proud. All of this directly impacted his reputation, which was bad enough. The root cause of the problem, he realized, was the woman he loved.
He had a plan for dealing with Liberty Wentworth-who-should-be-Forrester-by-now. A taste of her own medicine was what she needed. If he could straighten her bent ways, then all the rest of the crooked line that had become his life would return to being straight-as-an-arrow predictable as the road to the Forrester homestead, on which he was now driving with his traitorous brother.
“Maybe,” Zach said, watching Duke glare out the windshield, “you should talk to the ladies. They’ll have insights into your female issues.”
Duke pinned him with the glare. “Zach, do not violate the bachelor code.”
“Is there one?”
“Hell, yes. Bachelors only commiserate with each other. They never, ever side with the enemy.”
“Since when are women the enemy? I like them,” Zach said. “I’ve got two dates this weekend.”
“I’ve got the Tulips Saloon Gang banded together against me with their dolly faces and their innocently spindly frames. I need backup, please, so don’t give me any more advice like that. It just doesn’t help.”
“Spindly?” Zach repeated with a laugh.
“Yes,” Duke said, “how can anyone put up a good fight against such frail and fragile creatures?”
Zach shook his head.
“And I want to know how much a part of their newest plot you are,” Duke said indignantly. “And don’t act like it’s news to you, because they’ve already told me about The Plot.”
His brother grinned. “We just think you might need a vacation, Duke. Of the honeymoon variety. Take some time off. Start a family.”
“Did I ask anyone’s advice?” Duke abruptly braked to a stop in front of the house, sending up clouds of dust. He turned to face his brother for dramatic impact so Zach would know he’d really stepped over the line this time. “I don’t want to start a family, thank you. And I like my job a lot. It’s never boring.” He thought about that for a moment. “In fact, it’s downright exciting, a cross between Peyton Place and Petticoat Junction.”
Zach slapped him on the back. “It was Pepper’s idea.”
Duke gestured toward the old house. “Pepper doesn’t even live here!”
“Actually, she does now,” Zach said, pointing to an upstairs window where their little sister waved at them with something that looked vaguely like a butterfly net.
“Did she come home to hunt insects?” Duke asked.
“I believe that was a Victoria’s Secret undergarment,” Zach said, amused. “Not that I’m surprised you didn’t know.”
“Why would she wave that out the window?”
Zach laughed. “Because she’s crazy and it was what she was holding at the time we pulled up. She’s unpacking her suitcase, dummy. How ’bout you go give her a proper brotherly greeting and act like you’re happy she’s back after all these years?”
“But selfishly, I’m not,” Duke said, following Zach, though he knew in his heart he was glad. “If the only reason she’s come home is to conspire and plot—”
“Duke, everybody conspires and plots with Helen and Pansy and the rest of them. Even you do. So let it go.”
Duke didn’t like that, but there was a bit of truth to the comment, so he did what he wanted to do, which was take the stairs three at a time and grab his sister in a bear hug. “I’m so glad you’re home,” he said. “You can cook my dinner.”
Pepper laughed and gave him a smart kick in the shin. “No deal. You are cooking mine. I’m the weary traveler.”
She looked anything but weary. “You were gone too long,” he told her.
“I was here for your wedding,” she said. “February wasn’t that long ago.”
He frowned at her. “I meant…you know what? You’re as bad as Zach. You just want to argue!”
She put her arm through his. “I like arguing with you. Your face gets all red. And you make such an easy target because you have so many opinions.”
He shook his head, liking how she linked her arm through his and led him down the stairs. Sometimes Liberty was soft with him like this, too, and he always melted for women who knew how to work him. Not that that was particularly a good thing. A man had to watch women who plotted against him. Even his dog knew he was a softie.
“Please t
ell me you didn’t return to run for my office.”
“I didn’t, although something was mentioned to me about it, I will admit,” Pepper said. “But I have bigger things in mind.”
“Great,” Duke said. “Tulips needs fresh blood.
Where are you going?”
“Into town,” she said, grabbing a gaily wrapped present off the entryway table.
“Hey, I’ll drive you,” he said. “Bye, Zach.
Thanks for the pep talk.”
Zach laughed, appreciating the sarcasm. “Any time.”
Molly, who had come along for the ride, leaped into the truck bed, a blur of golden beauty. “She loves you,” Pepper said.
“When it suits her,” Duke said, starting the engine. “Who’s the present for?”
“Someone special,” Pepper replied, with a teasing smile. “Drive and mind your own business.”
“Not as if I won’t know eventually. There are no secrets in this town.”
Pepper laughed. “The hell there aren’t. Tulips is charmingly secretive.”
He frowned. “I’ve always found it to be annoyingly busybody.”
“Duke,” Pepper said, “one day you’re going to have to accept where you live. And the people you live with.”
“I do. I’m the sheriff, aren’t I?”
“This is a woman’s town. You should feel lucky.
You get good food, good gossip and lots of drama.
All the ladies suck up to you.”
“Not anymore. Liberty ruined it,” he said.
“Now all the women treat me as if I contain a polar charge. They bounce away any time I get close.” He frowned. “It’s not fair. Zach has two dates this weekend, and all I want is one.”
“Really?”
“Yeah,” Duke said, not wanting to talk about it anymore. He wasn’t going to get the date he wanted, so that left him with the option of moping or getting over it, and he always preferred to get over whatever needed getting over. “But I’ve got a plan to straighten out Miss Liberty.”
“You do?”
He was pleased by the surprise in his sister’s tone. “Yes. She wants to play hard-to-get. I will be harder-to-get. And I may even date other women, if necessary.”
“To make her jealous?”
He scratched at his chin, not certain Liberty would be jealous. “Just to let her know she’s not the only girl around.”
“Oh. Okay.”
As they pulled up in front of the Tulips Saloon, a melodic sound tinkled through the truck, sounding very much like a wind-up lullaby. Duke listened for a moment, unable to place where the sound was coming from. “Your cell phone?”
Pepper hesitated a moment. “It sounded like a cell phone, didn’t it?” She smoothed the fancy pink-and-blue ribbon on the big box in her lap.
“You going to answer it?”
“I don’t think so. Not right now.”
The music stopped, so Duke shrugged. “Well, they’ll call again.”
“No doubt they will,” Pepper murmured. “Thanks for the ride.” She kissed his cheek and got out of the truck. He waited while she patted Molly, who then decided to follow Pepper into the saloon, much to his chagrin. The dog was completely faithless, a Pied Piper to whomever petted her.
A moment later, Pansy and Helen disappeared inside the doors of the saloon, also carrying wrapped presents. Then in his rearview mirror he saw Valentine pushing a white wicker pram on huge wheels and walking alongside a rangy cowboy—the kind who made the girls squirm and swoon at rodeos. He carried a large cake in his big arms. They, too, went into the Tulips Saloon.
“It isn’t Ladies Only Day,” Duke declared to no one but himself. He drummed the steering wheel, straightening when Holt the hairdresser also went inside. It appeared that there was a party, one to which he had not been invited, which gnawed at his already rough feelings. What in the hell was going on in there?
There were more arrivals, including Mr. Parsons and Mr. Carmine, who looked around with surreptitious glances to make certain they weren’t seen before slipping inside as well. Duke blinked. They hadn’t been carrying presents, but… The Plot! Of course, The Plot. The townspeople really were working to unseat him! “What did I do to deserve this?” he asked himself. There was nothing for him to do but slink back to his jailhouse and try to ignore the fact that it was utterly empty for once. He could clean out a filing cabinet. Hell, for that matter, he could dust his cactus and maybe check the mailbox, not that there was ever much of anything in it.
He hated it when conspiracies brewed around him. But he drove across the square, parked at the jail and got out, morosely glancing over his shoulder at the Tulips Saloon.
Just then he saw the biggest traitor of them all sneak through the stained-glass doors like a garden snake into a watering can—Zach. His own brother!
No doubt Liberty was in there. Of course she was. She would be right in the thick of the action, surrounded by her friends.
He felt the urge to cross the street and crash the party, feigning that his invitation had been misplaced. Maybe it had been? But his sister would have dragged him in, at least, if she’d thought he’d been invited, which meant he most definitely had not.
And he’d vowed to stay clear of Liberty, to give her a taste of her own medicine.
“Damn it,” he muttered. His heart was breaking. To be ousted from the town he loved, snubbed by people he spent his days helping…
What had gone so wrong between he and Liberty? One second he’d had her at the altar, the next, she’d disappeared. He should be angry, but all he did was love her more. Her wild side appealed to him.
And damn it, that’s exactly what he was going to tell her. He was going to walk into the Tulips Saloon like the sheriff he was—this time he’d even gently ease open the doors instead of tossing them back—and he’d politely ask for his dog. That’s what he’d do.
It wouldn’t work, he realized, because Mr. Parsons was in there and she probably wouldn’t even leave the old man’s side.
Okay, so he’d cruise over there and just act as if he hadn’t known there was a party. It wasn’t Ladies Only Day so he had every right, he assured himself righteously while taking a swig of whiskey in some cold coffee for courage.
Gathering up his bravado, which had been shamelessly stomped lately, he strode across the street. With good manners and a somewhat trembling heart, he calmly opened the doors with a smile that he hoped would convey I’m harmless, aren’t we friends?
Silence enveloped the room. The smile slipped from his face as he saw the rangy cowboy sitting next to Liberty. Hesitating—remembering to keep a lid on his temper—his gaze suddenly riveted to the beautiful cake Liberty was about to cut.
The cake was festooned with a tier of pastel pink-and-blue ribbons, and a silver baby rattle lay beneath it like a shiny announcement of a beautiful, miraculous future.
His eyes met Liberty’s with horror and heartbreak, and in her eyes he read the truth: Liberty Wentworth was welcoming a baby into her life. That was the real reason she’d returned to Tulips.
What a faithless would-be-bride she’d turned out to be.
Chapter Four
“Duke, wait!” Liberty hurried after him as he strode down the street. Catching his arm, she made him stop so that she could catch her breath. Duke snatched his arm away from her grasp and her heart broke, even more than it had when he’d peeked around the saloon door, his face hopeful and trusting. “Please let me explain.”
“There’s nothing to explain.” He headed for the jailhouse—his sanctuary—but she followed relentlessly.
“If you would just wait a minute, Duke,” she said.
“Obviously, I’ve been waiting too long.”
There was a stitch in her side but she followed him into his office before he could somehow lock her out. She didn’t want to cause more of a scene than they already had, and she knew too well that a few dozen faces were tucked up against the windows of the Tulips Saloon, anxiously
peering out. “Duke, can I just explain?”
He turned on her. “Explain that you’re pregnant?” he demanded, his harsh voice tearing in her heart. She’d never seen his eyes so cold. “I don’t think that requires an explanation, Liberty. And I do think I now understand why I wasn’t invited to the shower.”
“It wasn’t really a shower.” It had turned into one, but quite by accident, though she doubted he was in the mood to hear that.
“So, everyone knew but me.” He looked at her, shaking his head in disbelief. “And I guess wearing the wedding gown the other day means you’re marrying that pup who was paying court at your feet.”
She was astonished he would think such a thing. “Duke, that cowboy came with Valentine to help her deliver the cake. I didn’t know that Pansy and Helen had ordered one.” She put a hand on his arm. “Please hear me out. This has all gotten way out of hand.”
“I don’t want to listen,” Duke said, and Liberty recognized the strong Duke, the one with all the stubborn opinions, marching in to stiffen his spine and his resolve. There’d be no talking to him now.
“Just go on,” he told Liberty. “I can’t take any more drama. Honestly. In fact, I think I’ll let all of you schemers have my sheriff’s seat. I’ve got a hankering to live in the tropics around some beautiful beauties who just want to feed me pineapples all day.”
Liberty blinked. Now was not the time to tell him, she realized with a pang. As mad as he was now, the truth would fall on dry, hard soil.
“But congratulations. I guess,” he said.
She sat on his desk. “You’re going to have to listen.”
“Ah. A prisoner in my own jail. I don’t think I do have to listen.” He reclined in the old cracked leather chair, putting his boots up on the desk and covering his face with his hat.
“Duke,” Liberty said, irritated, “this isn’t easy for me.”
He was silent.
“Must you be a troll?”
She thought she heard snoring.
