How Miss West Was Won

by Diane Darcy

  Luke, working at his desk, realized he was humming. He blamed Grace Carmichael! He was thinking about her again. How was he supposed to finalize the details for the tournament if he kept envisioning the girl instead?

  They’d had a fun interlude, but she wasn’t for him. The fact that she resided with Widow Braxton ensured that. Besides, who said he was looking?

  With a disgusted sigh, he forced himself to reorganize the tournament paperwork, setting the rules aside and shuffling through the sheets for the layout of the tables. He ought to walk over and review the progress of the hotel. When it was finished, and when they’d received more confirmations of participation, they’d get a better idea of the set up and where they could room some of the participants. He suspected many would have to tent out back of the hotel.

  Widow Braxton would love that.

  Next on the agenda was deciding what to do about the list of complaints that had already begun to trickle in. Mrs. Levy politely informed him he was making a rather large mistake. Mr. Hamilton thought he was a blasted fool, and Mr. and Mrs. Miller both signed the one that said he had all the sense of a male donkey’s backside.

  Nice.

  He sighed. Why couldn’t the townspeople trust him to do the job he’d hired on to do? The entrance fees alone would ensure they could build the new school this year. If there was enough left over, the town could purchase more land and think about expanding. Lord knew the tight fists around here didn’t want to step forward to pay for anything.

  Luke was glad when Gabe walked in. He needed the distraction.

  “Hey,” Gabe greeted him, looming over his desk.

  Luke leaned back in his chair. “Hey, yourself.”

  “So, it’s going around town that we have a new girl from back east. She’s staying with Widow Braxton.”

  Luke bit the inside of his cheek. That was fast. “I know.”

  “I know you know because I also heard you walked her to the widow’s place yesterday.”

  “Yes. So?”

  “So … now I hear tell she’s workin’ at the pie shop.”

  That was news to Luke. The girl arrived and the widow put her directly to work? He hadn’t expected that. He’d sort of thought her a rich girl from back east. Maybe not. His interest escalated.

  “So?” Gabe didn’t try to hide his impatience.

  “So what?”

  “So spill! I hear she’s young, pretty, and charming. Is that true?”

  Irritation surged through Luke and he wanted to snap at Gabe. Instead of fueling the fire, he shrugged casually. “She’s all right.”

  “Oh.” Gabe paused. “Good. So … anyway, I wouldn’t normally ask, but Vincent Frost told Miss Julia Hamilton, who told me, that when walking out with her yesterday, you were laughin’. That true?”

  “What? That I was laughing?”

  “Yes. Were you laughing? Because if so, I thought that might indicate an interest on your part. So I wondered, are you interested in her or what?”

  “Definitely not.”

  “So the laughin’ and walkin’ her to the widow’s place was … what?”

  Luke could feel a headache coming on. “I’m the mayor of this town.” He clipped testily. “She didn’t know where to go. I was being neighborly.”

  “All right. So if you’re not interested, how about I take a shot at her? Do you mind if I try walkin’ out with her? See if she’s interested in me?”

  “Yes, I mind!” Luke snapped.

  Gabe studied him. “Hmm.”

  Luke exhaled. Great, now Gabe was staring at him like he’d sprouted two heads.

  After studying him for a few seconds, Gabe grinned. “That’s what I thought. Let me know if you decide you’re done being neighborly with her. Because if you are done being neighborly with her, I’d sort of like a shot at being, you know, neighborly with her.”

  Luke threw down his fountain pen as Gabe left his office. He was done with this. He’d walk to the pie shop and see if Miss Grace Carmichael was as impressive as he remembered. She wouldn’t be, of course. Then he could tell Gabe he was free to court her to his heart’s content.

  Then Luke could get back to work, stop thinking about her, and get something done. That sounded like a good idea to him.

  He picked up his hat, slapped it on his head, and slammed the door on the way out.

  It took Luke longer to arrive at the pie shop than usual, mostly because he took his time. He stopped and glanced in the dress shop window to study the display of summer dresses. He tipped his hat and greeted two ladies walking on the side of the street. He waved at Arch Willoby, who rode up Main on the bay he’d bought in San Francisco the week before. Luke stepped off the boardwalk to chat with him and admire the horse. The entire time, he kept his eye on the pie shop, and noticed a steady stream of men going in, but only a few coming out.

  Finally he headed over to look in the window. He snorted. The place was crowded. One guess about who drew them there. Blaine Shelton from Apple Canyon leaned over the counter. Cowboys from the Anderson Ranch, empty plates in front of them, lingered. Others he didn’t recognize—as their backs were turned toward him—gawked at the two pretty girls behind the counter.

  Luke frowned. Two guesses why nobody was in a hurry to leave—Miss Foster and Miss Carmichael.

  He opened the door to the shop and pushed his way in.

  The place was noisy; cups were rattling, forks were digging into pie, and men were chatting. Minnie and Grace scurried about, helping all of them. Minnie was enough of a draw on her own. Adding Grace into the mixture ensured the widow’s business was about to take off in a serious kind of way.

  And darned if Luke couldn’t see the allure, himself. Grace—her hair piled high atop her head, her cheeks rosy and glowing, her smile wide and pretty—bustled behind the counter. He couldn’t draw his own gaze away.

  He didn’t want to stand in the doorway looking like a fool, so he made his way to the counter and acted like pie was the best idea he’d had in a long while. “Hello, Grace. I mean, Miss Carmichael.”

  Grace glanced up and her eyes widened, as did her pretty smile. He tried to find fault, he really did. Wide attractive mouth, sparkling eyes, her teeth straight and bright. Pink, bow-shaped lips, dark hair, luminescent skin—all of it combined made her the most gorgeous woman he’d ever seen. There was no fault to find. Blast it!

  “Can I interest you in some pie, Mayor?”

  “You sure can, Miss Carmichael. Can you give me some suggestions?”

  “The thing is, I didn’t make these pies. Minnie did. And I haven’t had a chance to taste any of them, either. But what I can tell you is that everyone who’s come in this morning has been quite complimentary of the peach pie.”

  “Really? It just so happens I have a weakness for peaches.” He gazed at her lips, and when she blushed, he couldn’t help a smile.

  She cleared her throat. “Peach pie, coming right up, though you may have to eat it standing.”

  Luke glanced around the shop. It didn’t look like anybody was in a hurry to leave anytime soon.

  Luke regarded two cowboys. “Boys, it looks like you’ve scraped your plates clean. I think it’s time to move along. Let someone else have that table.”

  The two young men scrambled, and they both made a point of saying their goodbyes to the girls behind the counter as they left. Luke watched them go, and as he did, saw Mrs. Braxton walking in the door.

  “Mr. Mayor.” Her tone would have frozen water.

  Luke tried not to smirk. Even as she was about to give him a set down, she still kept things proper and polite. He appreciated that in a woman. He lifted his hat. “Ma’am.”

  She puffed up like a wet hen. “Don’t you ma’am me. I was very clear yesterday when I told you that you are not welcome in my pie shop.”

  He studied Grace once more. He’d come in here to find fault with her, not really to eat any pie. When, once again, he could find no fault, his lips tightened.

  “Mr.
Mayor, are you listening to me?”

  Mrs. Braxton, hands now on her hips, tapped her toe. Was that supposed to intimidate him? He considered filching some pie, sitting down, and refusing to leave.

  Grace appeared uncomfortable, and he hesitated. The last thing he wanted to do was put her in a bad position with the widow. Apparently, he wanted to protect her even more than he wanted to needle Mrs. Braxton. He tipped his hat at Grace. “Ma’am. I’ll have that pie another time.”

  Mrs. Braxton shot him a look of triumph.

  He left the pie shop, but with every step he took, his anger grew. Who did the old biddy think she was, telling him what to do?

  It wasn’t as if he wanted to court the girl. On a positive note, if Mrs. Braxton wouldn’t let him woo her, she certainly wouldn’t let Gabe romance her either, which gave him a strange sense of satisfaction.

  So fine, nobody got to keep company with the girl. Only that wouldn’t be the end of it. All the single men for miles around would hear about Grace Carmichael. At the moment, she seemed to like him well enough. If he didn’t stake a claim, and quickly, later might be too late. If he claimed her first, he could always change his mind later.

  He only wanted to get to know her. If he walked out with her a few times, he’d probably find that was enough for him. What was he thinking, anyway? His wife came from money. Wasn’t one spoiled girl in a lifetime enough for him? Would he ever learn his lesson?

  The only problem was, Grace Carmichael didn’t strike him as spoiled. If there was a man alive who could recognize that type of woman, it was him. As a matter of fact, Grace struck him as just the opposite … sweet, unspoiled, delicious.

  He felt like he was balanced atop a high fence. If he leaned in one direction, that’s where he’d jump off and he’d be stuck. Him on one side of the fence, Grace on the other, no doubt keeping company with the likes of Gabe, or one of the many other men in town, or one of the cowboys or farmers outside.

  No doubt, she’d be married within the next six months.

  But, if he tilted the other way and landed on Grace’s side of the fence, maybe he could keep her to himself while he decided what, if anything, could come of a relationship. Before some other man staked his claim. If it didn’t work out, they’d go their separate ways, and he’d never have cause to regret.

  Now, he just had to figure a way to outwit the old biddy keeping guard over her. And maybe Grace, too. He could best them both if he had to.

  He was going to get to know Grace Carmichael, and neither of the ladies was going to stop him.

  Chapter 5

  As Grace watched Luke leave, her chest tightened with a mixture of emotions. She felt bad that he’d left without any pie, flattered at the way he’d looked at her, and slightly miffed at Mrs. Braxton for chasing him away.

  She glanced over at the widow, who presumably watched Luke through the glass. She wore a triumphant expression on her face. Because she’d chased Luke away? Grace knew she didn’t understand the vagaries of the situation, but ejecting Luke seemed plain mean.

  Grace had been there less than a day, and already she was snared in another power struggle. Caught between a rock and a hard place; a feeling she knew all too well. The Carmichaels had quite enjoyed their dramas, and had included Grace in them as often as possible.

  With a self-satisfied air, Mrs. Braxton released the curtain and, with a wave, left the store.

  That left Grace time to consider her situation. She wasn’t sure what, if anything, was going on between the mayor and herself. Probably nothing. Certainly nothing could happen. She’d go back to New York eventually, to the Carmichaels. It was where she belonged, with her mother nearby and her sister a train ride away. But still, she really didn’t appreciate Mrs. Braxton’s interference.

  A couple came in and she served more pie, but she couldn’t help glancing at the door every once in a while, hoping he’d return.

  One of the men stopped her as she passed a table, “Hey there, darlin’. Why don’t you come sit with me while I finish my pie.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry, I can’t—”

  “Grace. Come help me cut these pies, will you?”

  Grace excused herself, grateful for Minnie’s intervention.

  When she glanced up from her task, Luke peered in the window. She bit her lip.

  He glanced up and down the street, before opening the door. When he met her gaze, she gave a little wave, and his lips curved as he sauntered inside.

  “Can I help you?” Grace asked.

  “Just looking for some pie.”

  She couldn’t help but react to the humor sparkling in his eyes, his mischievous air. Her heartbeat sped. “Looking for pie … or for trouble?”

  He laughed. “I’ll start with the pie, but I’ll leave room for the trouble, if it’s all the same to you.”

  “Still interested in peach?”

  “You know it.”

  Grace met Minnie’s knowing gaze, and shrugged. She dished the pie, and headed to the mayor’s table with a fork and napkin. “Coffee?”

  “Join me?”

  She was tempted. She glanced at Minnie, who gave her a nod. Grace looked out the window before nodding at the mayor. “I’d like that.”

  When she turned around, Minnie handed her another plate of peach pie. Grace sank down, and Minnie bustled over with coffee. “Enjoy.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Hey.” The man across the room protested. “I asked you to sit with me first!”

  Luke smirked at the man. “Sorry, Charles. The lady is with me.”

  The man grumbled and Grace was glad her back was to him. She took a breath. “Minnie made the pie. I’m anxious to try it, just so I can tell everyone whether it’s any good or not, you understand.”

  Luke laughed. “Sure. That’s as good an excuse as anything I could come up with.”

  Grace tried a small bite, which was delicious, and set down her fork, as she wasn’t in a hurry to finish it. “I’m sorry about Mrs. Braxton.”

  He shrugged. “Don’t you worry about her. She’s just got a bee in her bonnet about the upcoming tournament. She’ll get over it.”

  Grace wasn’t so sure. From what she’d seen yesterday and from the way Mrs. Braxton had thrown him out of the store, she was pretty certain the widow wasn’t about to get over it anytime soon. But she just shrugged. “You probably know her better than I do.”

  “Of all the people in this town, why did your grandmother have to befriend her?”

  Since it wasn’t quite the truth, Grace had no answer, so she shrugged.

  “I’m sorry. I’m making you uncomfortable.”

  “Not at all,” she was quick to assure him. “I’m still trying to get my bearings, is all.” She shot him a glance. “So, tell me, have you always bumped heads with Mrs. Braxton?”

  “Just since I was a boy.” He shot her that mischievous grin again. “Every once in a while, we still seem to get into it. Probably a left-over from when I was young.”

  With that roguish expression on his face, it wasn’t difficult to picture him as that rebellious young boy. “I bet you were a handful.”

  “I was at that.” He took a bite of pie, a sip of coffee, and, after swallowing, drew a fortifying breath. “I was wondering, Miss Carmichael, if I might show you a bit more of our town?”

  Her eyelids dropped to her half-empty plate, but she couldn’t help the pleased smile that spread across her face, or the frown that followed. “I’d like that, but Mrs. Braxton would definitely not approve.”

  “Have you ever been canoeing?”

  Interest spiked through her. She shook her head, and gazed into his dark, persuasive eyes. “No. Never.” She was immediately tempted. The naughtiness of it, the disobedience, the temptation he represented. Her whole life had been controlled by others and their actions. Now, here was Luke, the mayor, asking her to be naughty and sneak out. It seemed quite appealing, and she imagined it would be fun.

  “Let me ask you, Mr. Carrington.
Do you want to take me canoeing for my own sake? Or are you simply trying to irritate Mrs. Braxton?”

  His eyes openly laughed now. “Does it matter?”

  Did it? Gazing into pure temptation, she decided it did not. “What if we get caught?”

  “We could always outrun her. It worked when I was younger.”

  Grace laughed. She stood and walked to the counter. “Do you mind if I take a break, Minnie? Perhaps an hour or so?”

  Minnie glanced between Grace and the mayor, her expression amused. “Take your time. I’ll cover.”

  The mayor opened the door and offered his arm. For once in her life, Grace West didn’t think about consequences. As she took his arm, she only considered what she wanted for a change.

  As they walked down the side of the street, Luke was pleasantly aware of Grace beside him. Small, delicate, feminine—what was it about her that attracted him so much? She was beautiful, but it was more than that. There were plenty of pretty girls in town. He’d met many more in his lifetime. Were there only certain people who would attract?

  Opposites? Coloring? The time of month they were born? The moon? He didn’t know. Whatever it was, it all seemed to mesh together with this woman in an appealing fashion. He even liked the way she breathed.

  “Where are we headed?”

  “Over to the lake. I find it’s the best place to locate the canoes.”

  She bumped her shoulder against his arm. “You know what I mean.”

  “Well, there is a lake by Henderson’s place. But as that’s five miles away, and as he owns two shotguns and a well-oiled Colt revolver, I say we content ourselves with the local park. He winked. “Unless you’re feeling adventurous.”

  Her hazel eyes sparkled. “And if I said I was?”

  He chuckled. “I’d hitch up the wagon. Who am I to disappoint a lady?”

  Amusement flashed in her eyes. “As tempting as it might be to get shot, I think I’ll pass.”

  He shrugged. “Your call.” They made it to the park, which was busy that afternoon, and headed over to the edge of the Swan Pond. He assisted Miss Carmichael into a canoe, holding her hand until she settled on one bench, maybe holding it a bit longer than necessary as his heartbeat sped, swift and violent.