“Sheri’s right,” Lacy said. “If these cowboys see you out there laughing at yourself, they’re going to start seeing the Ashby we know. The one who would make a great wife and mother…and who’s one brilliant businesswoman.”
“That’s right,” Norma Sue called out. Esther Mae and Adela were nodding and smiling in vigorous agreement.
Ashby fought back the lump that had lodged in her throat. “I wish it were that simple.” She thought about the bike. She’d always wanted to ride a bicycle. What about scrambling for a pig? Could she? Dan Dawson would say no. “So you really think me getting into that arena and trying to catch that pig might help me get a husband?”
Sheri and Lacy nodded like bobble heads.
Ashby inhaled sharply. “Okay.” She had to do this. Even though her mother would be appalled at the idea…. Ashby had lived with the fear of a reporter saying the wrong thing about her in the Nob Hill or Pacific Heights society pages. Laughable, since her parents hadn’t ever been considered elite enough to be newsworthy themselves. This was, however, Ashby had realized, one reason her mother was so preoccupied with fitting in with the upper crust. She lived, breathed and dreamed of the days when she or Ashby would be mentioned on the right pages of the right papers. This was why Ashby had let herself be pushed into dating first Brad and then Carlton. Both were highly newsworthy—and both had passed her over for more compatible matches for their blue money within the space of six months. Her mother had not been happy with Ashby on either count. To her way of thinking, Ashby had “lost” them deliberately.
Ashby hadn’t dated again until after she’d moved away from home in San Francisco and opened her store in San Moreno, where she’d met Steven. Brad’s and Carlton’s rejection had devastated her mom. Steven’s rejection had devastated Ashby. It was time to make a change.
Taking a deep, calming breath, she let the idea sink in.
She took courage from everyone’s smiles. “I’m probably going to be the laughingstock of Mule Hollow. But I’m in. I’m going to show certain people that I can loosen up.” She gulped a very unladylike gulp.
She—Ashby Renee Templeton, who had never even played in a sandbox, much less in dirt—had a date with a pig!
Imagine that.
Chapter Three
The rodeo had been a good one, but it was about to get better. Leaning against the steel bars of the arena, Dan watched the group of laughing women prepare to do battle with the squealing pig in the pen behind him.
When he’d first learned that Ashby was going to participate, he figured it might be another train wreck. She’d been heavy on his mind in the month since they’d walked or limped the bike into town. Ashby had not been able to hide the pain of her blisters by the end of the disastrous ordeal. The cantankerous woman had refused all his attempts to help, and he’d finally stopped trying. Fortunately, by the time they’d made it into town, almost everyone was off participating in other festivities, sparing them some of the hoopla associated with coming in dead last.
Dan had to hand it to her, she’d said she wasn’t riding the bike and she’d stuck to her guns. Blisters and all.
It stood to reason that when word spread of her raising money to win herself a spot in the scramble, there had been a stampede of cowboys lining up to help her along. The chance to support a worthy cause and see Ashby pitted against a pig had been too good to pass up for some people.
Not that she’d let Dan help her out. Oh, no, she’d refused to sell him a ticket.
Yup, she was still miffed at him.
Watching her now, he decided she looked stiff and nervous. He had to admit, though, that she looked nice, as usual. But his attention fixed on her luminous eyes, wide with trepidation.
His gut twisted. Those eyes should be wide with anticipation. He wanted her to relax and have a good time.
Not that she’d believe him.
Her back was as rigid as a ruler as she waited for the signal to enter the arena. Much like it had been every time she’d seen him over the past month.
Sunday school had been awkward, but he’d refrained from teasing her, not wanting to add to her dilemma. The one she had no idea she had. He’d tried to get the guys to stop with the “Ashed” nonsense, but his efforts had only drawn more attention to her plight. He had hopes for her tonight.
Tonight she might redeem herself. Tonight Miss Prim might just change her situation.
He hoped so. He didn’t like feeling guilty.
Dan knew Roy Don Jenkins’s voice was going to crack to life over the loudspeaker any minute now to introduce the women so he hurried to wish the ladies good luck before going back up to claim a seat in the stands. There were ten women in the group. Some were married; some were single; all had worked hard selling tickets to get into this arena. He admired the hard work they’d put into raising money that would help support the women’s shelter. If a gal was ever curious about the way to his heart, that was it—donating time or money to women in need.
Not that he’d ever tell someone that bit of info; there were some things too private to talk about. Still, he’d come to wish them luck, and in doing so, silently thank them for their hard work and good hearts. “Ladies,” he said, drawing their attention. “I just wanted to wish each and every one of you luck out there. Stay safe.”
“Thanks, Dan,” Lacy shouted over a sudden squawk of the amplifier.
Ashby jumped at the sound and her gaze connected with Dan’s. Maybe she’d learn a thing or two from tonight. Even so, he hoped she wouldn’t get hurt. As he went to find a seat in the stands, he sent up a prayer that they’d all be safe. It hadn’t occurred to him until now that he’d sort of goaded her into this, and if she did get hurt, he’d be responsible. That was one burden he didn’t care to take on.
She’d lost her mind. That was the first thought that hit Ashby as she and the others jogged out into the arena. The crowd roared with laughter. In front of her, Lacy and Sheri mugged and waved at the crowd, while she stumbled right into a wet spot and nearly went down.
Sheri laughed. “What are you trying to do—steal the show?”
Relieved to still be standing, Ashby glared at her. “You can have the show. I don’t want to do this anymore.”
“Sure you do,” Lacy said.
Easy for her to say. Ashby wiped her damp palms on her jeans. The girl her mother raised wouldn’t dare be caught dead in an arena, sweaty and hot, chasing after a greased pig! For an instant, all lingering animosity toward her upbringing disappeared as regret over her newfound rebellious streak assailed her.
Stop it.
Twenty feet away, the little animal squealed from behind the gate where they were holding him.
Ashby was about to tango with a pig.
Shifting nervously from foot to foot, she reminded herself that standing here in the arena was going to help not only the shelter, but also her image around town.
She glanced at Lacy, who was hunkered down like a linebacker ready for the tackle.
The pig squealed again, sounding like wet brakes on an overloaded bus! Ashby shivered. Who was she kidding? She was way out of her element!
Nothing to do but follow people who looked like they knew what they were doing. Mimicking Lacy, she shifted her weight from foot to foot, her elbows bent, hands out. She just didn’t have the personality to pull this off. Feeling foolish and out of place, she straightened and stood stiffly.
She was hopeless.
Roy Don called over the loudspeaker for the gate to open, and she almost jumped out of her skin when the pig shot into the arena in a frenzied panic.
And no wonder! Nine women reacted at once, squealing and laughing as they ran at poor Piggy en masse. This way and that the poor animal raced. When it suddenly froze, there was an instant pileup as everyone dived. Everyone, that is, but Ashby. She hadn’t moved.
Nope. She was still standing exactly where she’d started. Maybe her slow reaction had saved her. Someone in that pileup had surely captured the pig.
Her dismay was huge when the slick pig squirted from the pile like a bar of soap in wet hands—just popped right out of there and…and headed straight for her!
Surely the charging pig could see that she was no threat. She was still frozen to the spot! Surely it understood that all it had to do was a bit of sidestepping and it would be home free. That the safety zone loomed only paces away.
But no, he couldn’t know that. He was a pig. One with a vendetta, and who had decided to make like a bowling ball. After all, it had just taken down the nine other ladies, so why not Ashby?
Someone, somewhere, yelled for her to grab it.
Do what?
Grab it, her mind ordered.
Before she could analyze what she was doing, Ashby closed her eyes and dived.
That’s right, she dived.
Straight for the forty pounds of squealing animal coming at her like greased lightning. She wasn’t sure what astonished her the most, the fact that she voluntarily threw herself into the muck…
Or that she caught the pig!
She thought she heard the grandstands go wild, but the pig was screeching in her ear and kicking the wind out of her at the same time. One minute she had it, the next, Ashby was lying flat on her back as the slimy ball of lard used her as a launching pad. From her prone position, Ashby watched it shoot across the white line that had been drawn down the center of the arena. Pig: 1, Humans: 0.
Groaning, Ashby spat dirt and pushed herself up, grease and dirt embedded in her clothing. The slimy mixture of grime and muck had also worked its way into her hair and across the left side of her face—which had been plastered to the side of the small beast.
Molly Jacobs, who was covering the fund-raiser for her national newspaper column, suddenly jumped in front of her and snapped off a round of shots. Blinded by the rapid-fire flashes, Ashby blinked. What a mug shot that was going to be!
But it was over. That was all she could think as she stumbled toward the other women in the center of the arena.
“Way to go, Ashby.” Lacy laughed. “You almost had him!”
Ashby thought it was the other way around. That pig had outwitted ten women. It was some pig.
Despite getting duped, the group clasped hands and lifted them up in triumph. To her dismay, they all seemed to have had a great time.
Ashby stank. They all did, but she was pretty sure she was the worst. She managed a semblance of a smile for the clapping audience, and reminded herself why she’d done this—this horrid, horrid thing. Perhaps it had not been in vain—it could even mark a turning point in her love life.
All she knew was that if this hadn’t changed her image, nothing would.
Dan snaked through the crowd toward where the ladies were exiting the arena. That had been the funniest thing he’d seen in years. Watching nine ladies pile up on the piglet like a football team after a pigskin had been pretty entertaining. But when that squealing animal popped out of the pileup and headed for Ash, she’d looked like a little girl confronting the monster beneath her bed. Her eyes had grown to the size of plates and she’d gone as white as the pristine wedding dress hanging in her store window.
The woman was a real dynamo. Who’d ever have believed it! When she’d dived, despite her obvious apprehension, every cowboy around him had hollered and cheered. Dan had a feeling she’d accomplished her mission. He was proud of and relieved for her at the same time.
And he was off the hook…
Despite the tensions between them, he was compelled to speak to her. To let her know he thought she’d done well—even though he didn’t think she’d care what he thought. He made it to the end of the stairs and was waiting a few feet from the exit as the ladies filed out. Ashby was at the tail end of the line. Her face was smudged with stuff he was quite certain she was trying hard not to think about. But her eyes were sparkling. Dan liked that.
Several of the single gals flirted with him on their way past. Beth Clark stopped to talk. She was excited and laughing, and he couldn’t help but smile back at her. She was a pretty woman, though some would say her chin was too strong. Dan was looking at the life in her eyes. He’d seen her at the shelter, helping out a few times when he was there, so he knew she had a good heart. She was going to make some cowboy a lucky man one of these days.
Beth was still talking when Ashby came through the gate. Not wanting to be rude, he placed a hand on Beth’s arm, halting her words momentarily with his touch.
“So how’d that feel?” he asked Ashby. She paused, her eyes meeting his, then flicking to Beth and back again.
“It was interesting.”
The surprise in her voice made him grin. “Told you it would feel good to loosen up.”
She tensed at his words and her eyes darkened. “Yes, you were right,” she said, then turned and walked away.
Chapter Four
“Hey, Ash, wait up, would you?” Having finally gotten through the crowd, Dan reached her just as she opened her car door. She was looking at the interior with a perplexed expression, as if it had just dawned on her that she had a problem. Knowing her the way he thought he did, Dan figured she probably hadn’t realized the state she’d be in coming out of that arena. Not that everyone had suffered the misfortune that she’d had, landing in that specific patch of dirt.
“What do you want?” She shot him a glare.
“Hold on to your bonnet. I didn’t mean anything by what I said back there. I come in peace.”
Her expression remained tense, but the hostility in her eyes eased as her gaze shifted from him to the inside of her T-Bird.
“How about I give you a ride into town? You can get cleaned up and come back for your car later tonight.” Her look turned skeptical. “Or tomorrow,” he amended. “You can get someone else to swing you by.”
She sucked in a deep breath. “I’ll mess up your truck.”
“Naw, you can ride in the truck bed.” When alarm flared in her eyes, he chuckled. “Just kidding. My truck’s built to handle the worst and keep on going. I’ll just take a hose to the floorboards and some soap and water to the seat.”
She stared at her car again. Dan took in the plush carpet lining the floor and the sporty bucket seats that were half cloth and half leather. “Those cow patties you rolled in aren’t going to come out of that cloth anytime soon. If ever.”
“I know. I’m a mess.”
It suddenly hit him that she sounded depressed. He’d first thought it was because she was less than happy at seeing him, but now he wasn’t so sure. He looked closer.
“Are you okay?”
Her lip trembled. “I smell like an outhouse. I don’t know what is in my hair and—” She clammed up suddenly but her lip still trembled.
That did it. Dan reached around her and picked her purse up off the seat. “Come on. Let’s get you home.”
She didn’t move, just stared at him. He held in a frustrated breath. “Look, I know you don’t have a stellar opinion of me, but unless you have a better offer, I’d suggest you take me up on this one.” Well, that was a low blow. But she was being obstinate again. Just as she’d been the day of the bike race. Without waiting for her, he closed and locked her door and headed across the parking lot toward his truck.
When he reached it, he set her purse inside on the console and waited as she approached, almost dragging her feet. She really was a mess. It was going to take a gallon of heavy-duty cleaner to restore his truck after he dropped her off at her apartment. Still silent, she eased into the seat with a squish. She closed her eyes as the scent filled the interior of his truck.
“If they’d warned me about what was mixed in with the dirt after a rodeo, I would never have done this.”
Dan chuckled, pulled the seat belt out and reached across her to buckle her in. She looked a little too shaken to manage it herself. The smell was worsening. He patted her knee before he closed the door. “Tomorrow you’ll be glad you did it.”
He was smiling as he hurried around to h
is side of the truck. She might be as prickly as a porcupine, but she sure had been something tackling that pig.
And he knew he wasn’t the only cowboy who’d noticed.
Ashby had never been so relieved to see the big Victorian where she rented a small apartment come into view. Dan’s kindness in the face of her dilemma had surprised her. She guessed she really was too much of a city girl to have realized she would be such a mess when the pig scramble was concluded.
Somehow, most of the others hadn’t seemed to be in such a hideous state. Just her luck.
Dan whistled as he drove her into town, but didn’t try to talk, almost as if he knew she needed time to wind down.
“Here you go,” he said, pulling into the driveway. “Anything else I can do for you?”
What did he mean by that?
“Don’t look so horrified. I only wanted to know if you needed me to hose you down in the backyard, or help you pull off those boots.” He grinned, and in the light of the dash, she could see his eyes twinkling.
“Thank you, but I’m fine.” Ashby climbed stiffly out of the truck and gasped when she looked back at the seat.
“Don’t worry, I’ll get this cleaned up the minute I get home.”
That was the most optimistic thing Ashby had heard all day. She nodded. “Well, thanks again for the ride. Good night.” The mortification of the entire evening was rapidly collapsing in on her. She closed the door and hurried toward the apartment house. She’d just stepped onto the sidewalk when Dan called her name. She turned to find him watching her through the open window.
“Sweet dreams, Ash. You did good.” He tipped his hat, then drove off.
She watched his taillights until they disappeared, reminding herself that the man had charming women down to a science. She could not let a nice gesture and a couple of kind words get to her.
Dan was trouble. He couldn’t be trusted. Men like him could appear sincere when it suited them. With a simple smile they could draw women like the proverbial moth to flame. Steven’s charm had worked the same way. She had believed every word of his lies until she’d found him kissing his secretary. Yes, charm was shallow. Men like Steven couldn’t be trusted and she’d do well to remember that every time Dan opened his mouth.
Her Baby Dreams Page 3
