Last Chance Beauty Queen

by Hope Ramsay

  Hugh was not about to go back to Miriam Randall’s boardinghouse to be dressed down by his aunts. He would, however, go to the meeting of the town council. He owed Rocky that much.

  “I’ll be at the council meeting. I’ll see you there.” He pressed the disconnect button before she could say another word.

  He would clear up this problem with the town council and make it clear that he had no intention of forcing Elbert Rhodes from his land. And then he had to make a choice: Cissy Warren or Lady Ashton.

  He propped himself in his bed for a long, long moment, weighing his dream of a factory against his duty to his family.

  There was no contest. Duty won out. He was, after all, a deBracy.

  He would go home and marry Lady Ashton, which was, oddly, precisely what Miriam Randall had predicted he would do.

  Rocky leaned against the fence at the Painted Corner Stable and watched as Lizzy made another circuit around the corral, controlling her horse’s gait with nothing more than the pressure of her legs.

  The horse was as big as a house, but Lizzy had complete control of that critter. The sight of Lizzy and the horse put an unexpected smile on Rocky’s lips. The kid was turning into someone Sharon would have been so proud of.

  Dash Randall watched from the corral fence, making the occasional comment on form and technique. He was completely focused on the girl and horse, and it was nice to see Dash at work, doing something useful that didn’t involve a bat and a ball.

  Not that Rocky had anything against baseball. And baseball had certainly been good for Dash. But baseball had been an addiction for Dash, sort of like Hettie Marshall, and alcohol. Maybe he was making a new start.

  She hoped so. In fact, she was depending on it.

  She kept her distance until Lizzy finished her session and had dismounted. When Lizzy started walking the horse, Rocky moved down the fence line until she was standing right beside the big ex-jock.

  “Your niece has talent,” Dash said. “She might want to think about competing in dressage one day. She’s got that horse doing things I thought he never would. That’s Hettie’s rescued Thoroughbred she’s been helping me train. And that horse was broken down when he came here. Lizzy’s done a great job with him.”

  “You got a minute to talk?” Rocky asked.

  He tipped the Stetson back on his head, and the sun sparked in those blue eyes of his. “I’ve heard that Rachel and Bubba are an item now, so I’m done with any and all masquerades. Although you gotta admit I’m a genius. Maybe I inherited some of Aunt Mim’s magic.”

  “Miriam is related to you by marriage.”

  “Oh, yeah, well, there is that.” He gave her a lopsided smile.

  “I came to deliver some gossip and to ask you to do something that you’re probably not going to want to do.”

  “Okay, that’s pretty ominous. Sort of like bad news and more bad news.” He leaned his body against the fence post, obviously shifting his weight to his good leg.

  “Exactly. I’ll start with the gossip, which I got from a firsthand source, so it’s more like news than gossip.”

  “Yeah? And?”

  “Hettie went into Jimmy’s office about half an hour ago, slapped his face, and told him she wasn’t going to bail him out anymore. She threatened divorce if Jimmy didn’t get his act together, and she vowed to stand in the way of the effort to bulldoze Daddy’s golf course.”

  Dash’s smile faded. “From the talk around town, that makes her a better person than you.”

  Rocky put her hands on her hips. “Dash, you know good and well I would never try to have the council condemn Daddy’s land.”

  “Yeah, I reckon. But that Englishman you’ve been so cozy with would.”

  She gritted her teeth. “Yes, I suppose he would, but that’s not what I came here to talk about, okay?”

  “Cried yourself to sleep last night, huh?”

  She glared at him. “Would you please shut up for five minutes? This is really important.”

  “Okay, shoot.”

  “Hettie’s trust fund isn’t what it used to be. I know this because she told me. And I think you know it, too, because you’ve been paying top dollar for Jimmy’s land. Obviously, Jimmy is strapped for cash. I don’t know what Jimmy is into—gambling, bad investments, it’s not important. Whatever it is, he’s started cutting corners down at the plant. And sooner or later, he’s going to get caught.

  “I’m guessing that you offered to buy the plant from Jimmy, but he wouldn’t sell because he’s a rat bastard and he’s always hated you.”

  The lopsided smile disappeared. “I’m impressed you figured that out,” he said in a very sober voice.

  “It didn’t take a genius.”

  “So what’s the favor?”

  “Someone has to save this town or it’s going to end up like most of the other small towns in America. And for that, we need a real tax base. We can’t be a picturesque place with independent shopkeepers, unless we have some bigger businesses providing good manufacturing jobs. The chicken plant does that, but if the state swoops in and shuts it down, where the heck are we going to be?”

  Dash’s gaze became oddly focused. “Gee, Rocky, to hear you talk, I might think you cared.”

  “I do care. I don’t want the chicken plant to fail. I love this town.”

  “Sometimes you have a strange way of showing it, girl. You couldn’t wait to leave this place. And you stay away at Watermelon Festival time. And from what I hear, you’re heading off to Washington any day now for a big career in politics.”

  A deep pang of regret darted through Rocky’s chest. “Yeah, you’re right. I ran away. I’ve been absent. But I still love my folks and I love this town. Every time I see the water tower on the horizon, I get all lumpy in the throat.”

  His smile returned. “Well, that’s nice to know.”

  She put her hands on her hips. “Look, Dash, you can lose the smug tone. The town’s in trouble, and I’m not in a position to save it.”

  Their gazes locked.

  “But you are,” she whispered.

  “Me?” His baby blues got big and round. “Me, the messed-up bad boy drunk? I don’t think so. I’m just about the last person on the face of the planet Jimmy Marshall wants to do business with. He only let me buy his land because there wasn’t anyone else interested. Most of it’s not worth much. So how, exactly, am I supposed to save the town?”

  “You can give Lord Woolham land north of town. You could even invest in his factory. He’s not proud. He’d take your money, and I’ve got a feeling he’s going to be really successful. Cissy Warren’s hot to have his technology. She’s made him an offer, and if he accepts it, the factory is going to be built upstate. Do you want that to happen?”

  He stood there staring at her. “Holy crap, you’ve fallen ass over tea kettle for him, haven’t you?”

  “Look, Dash, this isn’t about Hugh. This is about you and the town. You could be everyone’s hero, Dash, the way Bubba once was. Only you’d be a real hero, instead of just a football hero. There isn’t anyone else who can save this town. And think of how happy Hettie will be if you save Golfing for God.”

  CHAPTER

  19

  The air-conditioning at City Hall was taxed beyond its capacity. Sweat collected under Hugh’s arms and dampened the back of his shirt. Arrayed before him on a small dais, behind a scarred and battered mahogany table, sat the members of the Last Chance Town Council. Big Bob presided, wearing a bow tie and a seersucker suit. Bob looked quite put out by this emergency meeting.

  Lillian Bray was turned out in a white dress that made her look like a Wagnerian opera singer without the long braids. Kamaria LaFlore wore a dress made of kente cloth. Dale Pontius looked a bit like Mr. Chips with his round glasses, moustache, and balding head. And Jimmy Marshall, dressed for the golf course, looked bored.

  “All right, ya’ll, we’re here and it’s hot, so let’s get this over with as quickly as possible.” Big Bob mopped his brow
with a white handkerchief. “Lillian, I believe you have something to say?”

  “Yes, I do.” Lillian folded her hands in front of her and looked down her long narrow nose. “As ya’ll know, I was brutally accosted last evening by Elbert Rhodes. And we all know that Doc Cooper thinks he may have finally lost his mind. Given that fact, and the fact that our town desperately needs new investment, I think we should consider using our town’s power of eminent domain to condemn Golfing for God, so that Lord Woolham can build his factory on that land.” Lillian stopped and gave Hugh a big smile that burned a hole right in the middle of his chest.

  Big Bob took a breath and folded his handkerchief and returned it to his pocket. “Is there any discussion on this item?” he asked.

  None of the other council members made a move to speak. So Hugh knew it was his time to stand up and stop this nonsense. He walked down to the microphone placed before the dais.

  Before he could identify himself, or state his business, a commotion broke out in the hallway. The door to the chamber burst open, and a half-dozen women bearing hand-lettered signs marched up the aisle chanting, “Down with Lord deBracy.” Hettie Marshall was in the lead, and it was almost as if her calm exterior had cracked a little between yesterday and today. She wore a blue suit and pearls, but her hair was askew, her eyes were big and a little wild, and she was chanting louder than all the others. It was almost as if she’d suddenly discovered her inner rebel.

  “Good lord, Lavinia, what are you doing here?” Big Bob said to the woman right behind Hettie, who was carrying a sign that said, “God Bless Golfing for God.”

  The woman named Lavinia glowered at Big Bob. “I could be asking you the same thing. What makes you think you can just take away Bert Rhodes’s land when he’s never been anything but nice to you? And besides, we all love his wife.”

  “Lavinia, you get your butt back home, you hear?” Bob said.

  “I will not. And if you think you’re going to do this thing and have a blissful retirement with me, you have another thing coming. Doesn’t he, girls?” Lavinia turned around to her compatriots, her dark eyes sparking with her passion.

  “Right on,” the girls chorused with a few fist pumps. They renewed picketing up and down the aisle. All of them were wearing trainers on their feet, so it appeared they were ready to stay for quite a while.

  Bob turned toward Stone Rhodes, who stood at the side of the room with one of his deputies. “You get these women out of here,” Bob bellowed.

  Stone hooked his thumbs in his belt, but he didn’t move. “Your honor, are you sure you want me to arrest Miz Marshall?” Stone eyed Jimmy, whose boredom had vanished.

  Jimmy Marshall sat there red faced, looking like he might stroke out at any moment.

  Bob glanced at Last Chance’s leading citizen and then back at Stone. “Belay that order,” the mayor said.

  Stone nodded and stayed put.

  Bob banged his gavel. “All right, ya’ll, you’ve made your point. Now sit down and behave like the ladies we know you are. We want to hear what Lord Woolham has to say.”

  Hettie scowled at her husband, who made a point of not looking at her. But Bob had made his point, and so had Hettie. She quietly directed the church ladies to line the back wall. They took their places, placards clutched in their hands.

  Hugh turned back to the dais and the council members. “Thank you for this opportunity to speak. I—” he began.

  The door at the back of the room burst open a second time. “Stop, right now, ya’ll don’t want to do this.”

  Hugh turned around to see Dash Randall stride up the aisle. Rocky followed behind him.

  Rocky Rhodes seemed to trail magic wherever she went. Her presence left Hugh confused, dazed, and breathing very hard.

  She wore one of her charcoal gray business suits, buttoned up all the way. Her hair was sleeked back. Her eyes were red, as if she’d had a really good cry. Her face looked pale and tired.

  When their gazes connected, she stared at him, her green eyes hard and resolute. She’d put her mask back on, hadn’t she? This was Caroline staring at him. Looking poised and polished and in control of herself and everything around her.

  And yet, a little curl had escaped her hair clip. It dipped down over her forehead, and it seemed to represent everything Hugh knew about this amazing and beautiful woman.

  Aunt Petal would say that he’d been bewitched. And maybe Aunt Petal had the right of it. Unfortunately, in all of those fairy stories, the besotted man didn’t get his beautiful fairy princess. He had to return home and live out his drab, predictable life.

  Hugh needed to quit woolgathering and get on with it. He looked away from Rocky and said, “Mr. Mayor, may I speak, please.”

  “Not until I do,” Dash said.

  “Excuse me, but I believe I was here first.”

  “Yeah, you were, but what I have to say is more important.” Dash turned toward the council. “You see, your honors, there is a way for the town to—”

  “Hold on one minute.” The door to the back of the council chamber slammed open one more time and in marched Cissy Warren and her father. Cissy looked quite fetching today in a classy yellow suit that matched her blond hair. She was the antithesis of Rocky—colorful in every way on the outside, but utterly lacking in any kind of magic.

  The moment Cissy and the senator arrived, Rocky made herself seem smaller. She hunched her shoulders. She looked down. She tried to appear demure. All of that bothered Hugh a great deal. Rocky was far more interesting and vital than Cissy in all the important ways. Rocky was more interesting and vital than Victoria, too. If only Rocky would lose the gray suits, she wouldn’t look like such a little wren, instead of the magnificent bird of paradise that she truly was.

  “Senator, what can I do for you?” Bob stood up.

  The senator cast his eye around the room, taking note of the church ladies lining the back wall. He frowned in Rocky’s direction. “What in the Sam Hill are you doing?” he asked her.

  “Uh, I was trying to help Lord Woolham,” Rocky said.

  “Help him? Good gravy, Caroline, do you see what’s written on those signs?”

  Rocky blushed. “Uh, yeah, I do, but, see… um.”

  “Look, just shut up,” Dash said. “I have something monumental to say.”

  Rocky groaned. The senator’s face got red. “Caroline, I really don’t like your boyfriend talking to me that way. And I’m very disappointed in you. I distinctly told you to help Cissy, not to work against her. And, lord knows, the last thing any of us wanted to do was to rile up a bunch of churchwomen. Really, I thought you had more sense.”

  Rocky’s face paled. “But—”

  The senator turned toward the town council. “I’m taking charge of this situation. There is no reason for ya’ll to condemn the land because—”

  “Huey! What are you doing?” This comment came from Aunt Petal, who arrived on the scene wearing a purple dress and her red spectacles. She came striding into the room with Aunt Petunia, followed by Miriam Randall and a little girl with big brown eyes, a dirty T-shirt, and skinned knees.

  “Hello, Aunt Petal. I’m here to do what Petunia asked me to do. I’m going to tell these good people that I don’t want Elbert Rhodes’s land. And when I’m finished, we’ll go home to the UK, and I’ll marry Lady Ashton, just as you want. I’m sure Aeval will be pleased to hear this news.”

  “What?” Petal, Petunia, Cissy, and Rocky said in unison.

  Dash turned toward Rocky. “Shoot, Rocky, you didn’t say he was engaged to be married to someone in England. Did you know that?”

  The spectators began to speak at once. Big Bob banged his gavel but no one noticed. Hettie and her church ladies took that moment to renew their “Down with Lord deBracy” chant.

  And into this fray strode Stone Rhodes, the chief of police. One might have expected him to impose order, but instead he walked right up to Hugh and asked, “Are you really engaged to be married to someone else?”
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  “Um, well, I—” Before Hugh could finish the sentence, Stone hauled back and punched Hugh right in the solar plexus.

  Pain exploded, but he couldn’t even whimper. The punch had taken away his ability to breathe. He went down on his hands and knees, stars circling his vision.

  Somewhere, from a distance, he heard a child’s voice saying, “Daddy, why did you hit that man? Don’t you always say that it’s better to talk than to fight?”

  Rocky stared at the damage her big brother had just inflicted. She wanted to rush to Hugh’s side. Help him. Hold him. Kiss him.

  But she couldn’t move. Her fingers, toes, and lips went numb with cold. Her eyes lost their focus. Her mind went fuzzy. Something strange and yet oddly familiar touched her and held her in place.

  She watched as a bevy of little old ladies, including Miriam Randal, descended on Hugh. They went down on their knees and started tittering and stroking and comforting him.

  He was in good hands. He seemed to be recovering.

  But the situation in the council room still teetered on the brink of disaster. Caroline needed to do something.

  But what?

  The blood roared in her ears. Tears threatened to spill over. And then, something down deep inside of her snapped.

  And the unseen force that had pinned her in place released her. She yanked off her jacket, moved forward, and snatched the gavel from Bob Thomas’s suddenly slack hand.

  She pounded the gavel on the desk and shouted, “Ya’ll, just shut up and listen to me!”

  The room went quiet, more in shock than because of her gavel banging. The last time Rocky had lost her temper had been pretty darn memorable. But she really didn’t care anymore. She was moved by this weird feeling she couldn’t quite explain.

  “Look,” she said. “Let’s get one thing straight. No one is going to bulldoze Golfing for God. So you ladies can just shut up. Now!”

  The church ladies stopped and stared. A few mouths hung open.

  Rocky continued, “Even if Lillian could condemn the land, the town has no money to buy my daddy out. And besides, you should all know that Lord Woolham is a fake and a phony.”