by Jeanne Allan
“Hi . I’m Allie. What’s your name?”
Letter to Reader
Title Page
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
EPILOGUE
Copyright
“Hi . I’m Allie. What’s your name?”
The little girl popped her free thumb into her mouth. A second later her thumb shot out of her mouth and she fleetingly touched Allie’s dress. “Pretty.”
“Thank you. Your dress is pretty, too.”
The little girl lovingly patted the acres of skirt. “Daddy bought it.”
“Who is your daddy?” Allie asked.
The child looked past Allie. Her face lit up like a million candles. “He’s my daddy.” She pointed up.
“Hello, Allie.”
Allie’s heart stopped. The room went dim. Her body froze and she forgot to breathe.
What was Zane Peters doing here?
Dear Reader,
Sitting in my red-wallpapered office, I’m surrounded by family photographs. I love seeing my husband as a baby, my father as an adolescent and my daughter at age four holding her new baby brother.
For better or worse, we all have families. I didn’t plan to write about the Lassiter family, but as one character formed in my mind I realized I was dealing with all three Lassiter sisters—Cheyenne, Allie and Greeley. Then their older brother demanded his story be told, and who can say no to a sexy man like Worth Lassiter? What started out as one book had suddenly become four.
I hope you enjoy reading about the Lassiter family and the strong men—and woman!—who match them.
Love
Four weddings, one Colorado family
One Mother Wanted
Jeanne Allan
TORONTO • NEW YORK • LONDON
AMSTERDAM • PARIS • SYDNEY • HAMBURG
STOCKHOLM • ATHENS • TOKYO • MILAN • MADRID
PRAGUE • WARSAW • BUDAPEST • AUCKLAND
CHAPTER ONE
THE Augusta Room in the century-old, Steele-owned St. Christopher Hotel in Aspen, Colorado provided the perfect backdrop for the wedding reception of Thomas Steele and Cheyenne Lassiter. Autumn had cooled the September afternoon enough to permit fires in the carved Art Nouveau fireplaces at either end of the huge ballroom. Slender metal pillars encircled the room, while chandeliers hanging from the two-story-high vaulted ceiling bathed the room’s occupants with a soft pink glow as friends, neighbors and relatives toasted the happy couple. Curious hotel guests and tourists who’d wandered in from the street to see the historic ballroom found themselves accepting flutes of champagne and gawking at the movie stars, business tycoons, sports figures and politicians moving easily through the throng. Immense arrangements of creamy pink roses, white lilies and herbs, such as marjoram for joy and happiness, myrtle for love and passion, ivy for friendship and sage for long life, perfumed the air.
Alberta Harmony Lassiter could hardly wait to leave.
“Allie, aren’t you ready to go yet?” The boyish voice rang with desperation. “Cheyenne, I mean, Mom, said we didn’t have to stay forever.”
Allie smiled at her new nephew. Davy Steele had been an infant when his parents died in a plane crash. Cheyenne told him his mother would always be his mother, but if he wanted to call Cheyenne “Mom,” he could. Davy had eagerly embraced the idea.
Tousling the seven-year-old’s hair, Allie said, “We have to wait until they cut the cake and all that stuff.”
“Do we have to? That’ll take forever.”
“Yes, we have to. Since you’ll be staying on the ranch with Mom and Worth and Greeley, you’ll have plenty of time to ride horses while Cheyenne and Thomas are on their honeymoon.”
Honeymoon. It didn’t seem possible. It was a matter of weeks since Allie’s sister had met Davy and his Uncle Thomas. Today Cheyenne had become Mrs. Thomas Steele and Davy’s mother. Davy would undoubtedly soon call Thomas “Dad.”
Allie’s eyes grew damp. Her older sister married with a ready-made family. Cheyenne made a beautiful bride. Her sister’s beauty transcended mere physical appearance. Cheyenne’s glowing beauty came from within. The kind of beauty that came from being deeply loved.
Once Allie had thought she was loved like that. She’d been wrong.
“Oh, no, here she comes.”
The muttered words of dismay reminded Allie of the boy at her side. “Who comes?”
“Her.” He pointed toward a small girl trotting in their direction, a shy smile on her face. “I can’t get away from her.”
Despite a sense of familiarity, Allie had never seen the child before. Curly red ringlets framed a cherubic face. “She doesn’t look dangerous to me.” She looked about four years old.
Davy gave Allie a disgusted look. “She keeps bothering me.” The little girl reached for his hand and he jerked it from her grasp. “Go away. I don’t like girls.”
Giant tears welled up in the child’s eyes.
“See?” Davy appealed to Allie. “She does that every time I tell her to go away. Stop crying,” he said to the girl. “We’re going to have cake. Don’t you like cake?”
The girl nodded and reached out her hand again. With a huge sigh, Davy took it.
Giving Davy a smile in which commiseration mingled with approval, Allie crouched down so her face was level with the child’s. “Hi. I’m Allie and this is Davy. What’s your name?”
The little girl popped her free thumb into her mouth.
“She won’t talk,” Davy said. “Maybe she don’t know how.”
The child gave him an indignant look.
Allie swallowed a laugh. “Do you like weddings?”
The child shrugged. A second later her thumb shot out of her mouth and she fleetingly touched Allie’s dress. “Pretty.”
“Thank you. Your dress is pretty, too.” The neon pink monstrosity of ruffles and ribbons was too big and the wrong color. A torn ruffle had been inexpertly mended.
The little girl lovingly patted the acres of skirt. “Daddy bought it.”
“Who is your daddy?” Allie asked.
The child looked past Allie. Her face lit up like a million candles. “He’s my daddy.” She pointed up.
“Hello, Allie.”
Allie’s heart stopped. The room went dim. Her body froze and she forgot to breathe. What was Zane Peters doing here? He couldn’t be here. Not at a wedding. Not when she once believed she’d be the first Lassiter sister to marry. Believed she’d marry him. How dare he show up uninvited at Cheyenne’s wedding? How dare he speak to Allie? He couldn’t possibly think she’d forgiven him.
She’d never forgive him. He’d hurt her more than any person had a right to hurt another. Past tense. He no longer had the power to hurt her. He had no power over her at all.
“Allie? You okay? You look kinda funny. Can’t you get up? Want me to get Grandma Mary or Cheyenne, I mean, Mom?”
Davy’s anxious voice snapped Allie from her trance. “No.” Her voice came out sharply. Giving Davy a smile she hoped was reassuring, Allie said, “I’m okay. My foot went to sleep.”
“Let me help you up,” Zane said.
She ignored his offer and his extended hand. Standing, Allie saw her older sister across the room. Concern covered Cheyenne’s face. And guilt.
Dam Cheyenne. For five years Allie had managed to avoid Zane Peters. She’d taught school in Denver, and when in Aspen, she’d developed a kind of radar that prevented chance encounters.
Without once looking at the man who had betrayed her, Alli
e headed straight for her sister.
“I can explain,” Cheyenne said, as soon as Allie reached her. “Zane was Worth’s best friend.”
“I’m Worth’s sister.” Allie paused. “Are you telling me Worth invited him?”
Cheyenne’s color heightened. “I saw Zane in town yesterday. He said ‘hello’ so cautiously, it would have been funny if it wasn’t so sad. You’ve told me a million times you don’t care about him anymore. That he’s nothing to you. But he was one of our oldest friends, and Worth misses him.”
“He’s never said so to me.”
“Worth wouldn’t. Okay, so he’s never said anything to me, either, but they were best friends forever.”
Allie hadn’t been born yesterday. “And that’s the only reason you invited him? For Worth?” She watched her sister’s face. Cheyenne had never been able to tell a convincing lie.
“Why else? I know you’re not interested in him.”
Proper decorum prevented one from strangling a bride on her wedding day, even if she was the lyingest bride that ever said her vows. “You know I hate it when you stick your pointed nose into my business.”
Red flagged Cheyenne’s cheeks. “It’s no more pointed than yours. Besides—” she looked somewhere in the vicinity of Allie’s forehead “—his wife is dead. You and Zane could—”
“Could nothing. You listen to me, Cheyenne Lassiter, it you want to be some stupid man’s doormat, go ahead. I don’t, so mind your own cotton-picking business.”
“Personally I can’t see my wife being anyone’s doormat.” A solid arm snaked around Allie’s waist.
“If you hadn’t been warned,” she said to a smiling Thomas Steele, “I’d feel sorry for you. The rest of us are stuck with her, but you could have walked away.”
“I may be a stupid man, but I can guess what’s going on.”
“I’m sorry I called you stupid—” mortification heated Allie’s face “—but sometimes my sister...”
“What did Ms. Busybody do now?” Thomas smiled at his bride. “I love you, Mrs. Steele, but that doesn’t mean I’m blind to your interfering ways.”
Cheyenne looked so penitent, Allie shook her head. “It doesn’t matter.” She summoned up a big smile. “I was surprised and overreacted. It isn’t every day my big sister gets married. I guess I’m a little emotional.”
Cheyenne gave her a big hug. “Liar,” she whispered in Allie’s ear. Taking Allie’s hands in hers, out loud she said, “I blew it. It won’t happen again. I promise. Cross my heart.”
Allie gave an unladylike snort and they both laughed.
Thomas looked from one to the other. “I’m never going to understand women, am I?”
“That’s what puts the fun in marriage,” Allie’s mother teased as she joined them. “My new grandson is going to go berserk if you two don’t hurry up and cut the wedding cake so he and Allie can head for the ranch. Davy rates riding horses much higher than weddings,” Mary Lassiter added with a laugh.
Short hair suited her.
She smiled at the groom. Once she’d reserved her warmest smiles for Zane. He’d fallen in love with Allie Lassiter ten years ago. Many things had changed, but not that. Never that
He had no right to love her, not after what he’d done. He didn’t expect her to welcome him back into her life. Or her arms. Which didn’t stop him from indulging in fantasies.
“Starving dogs don’t look that hungrily at food.”
Zane didn’t need to turn to identify the speaker. “When I ran into Cheyenne yesterday and she invited me to her wedding, I thought maybe...” He uttered a short, bitter laugh. “Allie didn’t know I was coming. Cheyenne didn’t tell her.”
“Cheyenne couldn’t have gotten married without both her sisters in attendance,” Worth Lassiter said.
“Meaning Allie would have stayed away rather than meet me. How about you? Would Cheyenne have walked down the aisle alone if you’d known I was coming?”
“I knew. Cheyenne had second thoughts and asked me if she should phone you and take back the invitation. Then she decided you wouldn’t come. I knew you would.”
Zane couldn’t decipher Worth’s tone of voice. Nor could he bring himself to look at this man who’d been his best friend. “We had some good times together, you and I.”
“Yeah.” Worth added quietly, “I’ve missed you, you son of a gun, but Allie’s my sister. What you did about killed her.”
Zane said fiercely, “I’d do anything, pay any price, if I could undo what I did.”
“I know.”
Zane looked at Worth. “Does she?”
Worth shrugged. “She hasn’t spoken your name to me since the night she walked into the house and told us you were marrying someone else.”
“I thought she’d be married by now.”
“Men have been interested. She’s not. Between Beau and you, Allie’s opinion of men isn’t too high.”
Zane shoved clenched fists in his pockets. Men didn’t come much lower than Beau Lassiter, Allie’s late and unlamented father. Yet Zane couldn’t deny the truth of Worth’s words, no matter how painful they were. “Hannah’s been looking forward to the cake, but we’d better leave.”
“I never knew you had a yellow streak a mile wide down your back.” Worth walked away.
Zane watched his former friend cross the room. Worth had called him a coward. Zane had no idea why.
Laughter caught his attention. Allie and her two sisters laughed with the groom. Zane used to dream about her laughing in his bed. Although he’d tossed away the right to have those kind of dreams, the dreams had never stopped.
Hannah had wandered off again, but he kept her in sight. She stood near the bridal party, her big blue eyes locked on Allie. Little girls were supposed to be crazy about weddings, but Hannah appeared fascinated by the maid of honor instead of the bride.
Most people thought the two older Lassiter sisters looked alike. They couldn’t be more wrong. Cheyenne was an open book. Allie was a closed book, with only a precious few allowed to peek inside. Once Zane had been privileged to share her innermost thoughts. A privilege he’d stupidly thrown away. Even from across St. Chris’s ballroom, he could see how shuttered her face was, how hidden her thoughts and emotions. If he were a man given to crying, he’d cry now. He could have cried a million times over the past five years. Crying wouldn’t have changed a thing.
Neither would running. He’d stay until Hannah had her cake. Then he’d get the hell out of here. Away from Allie Lassiter.
Jake Norton joined the bridal party and put his arms around Allie and her sister Greeley. Zane had read in the newspaper about Norton and his wife staying on the Lassiter ranch while the movie star filmed a Western in the area. He knew the couple had become close friends with the Lassiters. The knowledge did nothing to stop the jealousy that rocketed through Zane as Allie laughed up at Norton.
He’d been an idiot to come. If only the bride would cut the damned cake. Not that he’d be able to choke any down. Just cut it, so Hannah could have her piece. Then he could leave.
She was so damned beautiful. More beautiful than five years ago. He could almost taste her mouth. His own went dry. Cut the damned cake.
Allie wanted to scream. They’d cut the cake, and everyone had toasted the newlyweds. Brides were supposed to be anxious to leave on their honeymoons. Thomas ought to be chomping at the bit to get Cheyenne to himself. If Cheyenne would throw the darned bouquet, Allie could escape. She had to get out of here.
Out of this clinging blue floral silk dress that had seemed so elegantly simple and classic when she’d put it on earlier. Now the dress felt wrong. Too tight. If he didn’t quit watching her... She couldn’t stand being in the same room with him.
“I assume you know Zane’s here. I just saw him. You okay?” Greeley asked quietly at her side.
Allie turned to her younger sister. “Of course I’m okay,” she said brightly. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
“How would I know? I’
m just your half sister.”
“Greeley Lassiter, you are as much my sister as Cheyenne is. You make me furious when you say such stupid things.”
“That’s better than you standing there looking like the sole, dazed survivor of some disaster.”
“I don’t look like that,” Allie said in a low, fierce voice. At Greeley’s skeptical look, she added, “It was a shock, that’s all. I didn’t know Cheyenne had invited him.”
“I thought I detected the hand of our resident meddler. Want me to tell him to take a hike?”
“Worth talked to him.”
“And told him to leave?”
“Obviously not. They seemed to be just talking. They didn’t shake hands or anything.”
“I should hope not.”
Allie gave her sister a quick squeeze of appreciation for her loyalty. “No, Cheyenne is right. If he no longer matters to me, he and Worth should be able to resume their friendship. If Worth wants such a shallow friend.”
“If,” Greeley emphasized the word, “he no longer matters?”
“He doesn’t matter,” Allie said firmly. He couldn’t matter. Their love had died. Not died, been trampled in the dirt. Nothing remained. Nothing. She forced a smile to her face. “Cheyenne’s finally ready to throw the bouquet. You know she’ll aim it over here. You catch it, because I’m not going to.”
Sent on its way with teasing comments, the bridal bouquet arced through the air. Directly toward Allie and Greeley. Allie stepped to her right at the exact second Greeley stepped to her left. The bouquet sailed between them.
“Look, Daddy! The lady threw flowers to me.”
One look at Cheyenne’s dismayed face confirmed Allie’s suspicions about her older sister’s intent.
