by Pamela Tracy
If Amy opened a bakery, she'd have all the room she wanted.
Unfortunately, spending time with Shirley meant seeing Daniel. Amy wasn't sure she was ready. "I've already got supplies spread around the kitchen. It'll be fine."
"Helping you make a cake is exactly what I need. Now Daniel is at church. He went a little early, and I'm home alone."
"Daniel left you alone."
There was a pause, then Shirley said, "Burt was supposed to be here, but he's not feeling good. I'm not feeling great, but..."
It took Amy almost an hour to gather her things together and head over to Shirley's. Not that she intended to make the big cake. She'd do that later. Today, she'd make a few smaller sheet cakes because one thing she knew, cake went fast at parties.
Shirley's front door was open. Amy went inside.
Soon she had Shirley sitting at the kitchen table, kittens in her lap, an eyedropper in her hand, which fascinated Butterscotch and sent Peppermint into hiding. Amy measured the right amount of vanilla and began making the frostings.
"Michelle's granddaughter is looking for a part-time job," Shirley said.
"What?" Where had that idea come from?
"Just saying," Shirley said. "You work every day except Sunday, and you might need some free time, especially if there's someone to spend that free time with. Am I right?"
"Shirley, I have no idea what you're talking about."
"I'm talking about my grandson."
"We're just friends."
"That's not what he thinks."
"Did you invite me over to talk about a relationship that isn't happening, or did you invite me over here to bake?" Amy tried to sound teasing, but her mouth went dry as she was saying the words.
"Both," Shirley said easily. "Being stuck in this wheelchair for who knows how long and too weak to do anything but worry about my boys... Well, let's just say I'm not worrying about Daniel, much, thanks to you."
"You never needed to worry about Daniel. He's responsible. And with Dusty hurt, Daniel can hit the road and go back rodeoing, like he wants."
Shirley dropped the eyedropper. It hit the floor and rolled under the table, leaving tiny drips of milk across the tile. "Is that what you think?"
"He's only here temporarily. We had some fun. I'm glad I got to know him."
Shirley pointed to a roll of paper towels. "I can't bend to clean it up. Can you help?"
Amy obeyed. When she finished, Shirley said, "Sometimes I worry about you. Can't you see the boy's in love with you?"
"It takes more than six weeks to fall in love."
"Six weeks and three days," came a voice from the kitchen doorway. Amy turned around quickly, seeing the man whose calls and texts she'd been avoiding.
Shirley grinned. "I heard your truck."
"Keeping track of how long I've been around?" Daniel said.
"More like keeping track of when you'll leave." Amy looked at the calendar on the kitchen wall and pointed to the red words written for this coming Saturday. "The rodeo in Lubbock. This coming Saturday."
Daniel shrugged. "So?"
"Aren't you going?"
"What gave you that idea?"
She tapped the calendar.
"I wrote that weeks ago, during a phone call with Dusty. We were trying to figure out if I could still be a contender. I didn't realize then how much help Gramma needed."
"I saw the application."
Daniel looked confused.
"At the lawyer's. I was looking at what you typed and wanted to go back to an earlier page. Instead I accidentally found the application. Applications, that is, for three rodeos. I didn't mean to intrude, but I wasn't prepared. I didn't realize you'd be leaving."
"Is that why you've been avoiding me?"
"I just..."
"Just what?" He stepped into the kitchen and walked to her side.
"I think I'll go find where Peppermint is hiding." Shirley backed her wheelchair away from the table, expertly balancing the crate of kittens as she slipped from the kitchen quicker than a woman in a wheelchair should be able to.
"Just what?" Daniel repeated.
"I was getting used to having you around," Amy said. "I like you."
He gently turned her around, and then tilted her chin up, first wiping off a bit of flour. He pushed brownish-blond hair away from her eyes, and then he kissed her. All she could think was that she never wanted to go twenty-four hours again without one of his kisses.
"Good," he said against her lips. "I'm glad you like me because I like you too."
"I'll come to the rodeo with you." The words poured out, surprising her. She'd never liked to compromise. She'd learned long ago that compromise was usually a one-sided commitment. But not with a man like Daniel. "I like to applaud, and I'm sure you'll win and—"
"I filled out the applications, but I didn't send them in."
"Now it's too late?"
"Too late for the rodeos, yes, but now's the perfect time for something else I've been thinking about."
There was that word again. Perfect.
"Perfect time for what?"
"Perfect time to think about my future, maybe our future…" He held up a hand when she started to protest. "I know it's only been six weeks and three days. So, first things first. I want to rent space from you. I've already been advising some of the people from church. I want to expand and make it a business. Plus, I liked doing all the woodworking repairs around Gramma's house. I figure I can do the same for your new house."
"My new house." She couldn't think, not with his arms resting on her shoulders, his fingers caressing the back of her neck, his lips so close to hers.
"The one where we found the kittens."
"Oh."
"I won't charge much. Maybe free brownies, a knitted scarf or two. All retired bull riders need those."
"I'll make all the scarves you want." No need to tell him that her scarves were usually long enough to wrap around a house.
"Oh, and one more thing," he said.
"What?"
He leaned in and kissed her, long and hard, in his grandma's kitchen. There were pictures of family all around. Maybe one day she'd be in the new ones they put up. But right now, all she wanted was him to keep kissing her.
When they finally drew away from each other, needing to breathe, needing to touch instead, to look in each other's eyes, she asked, "What's the one more thing?"
He laughed and backed up. "Come to the church's fiftieth anniversary with me."
"Okay."
"What about next Sunday?"
"Next Sunday?"
"Regular service," he said. "I don't want to sit in the pew alone."
"Shirley's with you."
"But Shirley's not you."
"I'm sitting with Burt!" Shirley called. "I think I love him."
Daniel looked surprised, but only for a moment. Looking into Amy's eyes, he slowly said, "You can't stop love."
Her smile told him all he needed.
So, he kissed her again, like he would never stop.
The End
If you enjoyed The Bluebonnet Bride, you won't want to miss the next installments!
ECPA bestselling author Vickie McDonough continues the Lone Star Brides series with this heart-warming story of lost love.
The Bull Rider's Bride by Vickie McDonough
Champion bull rider Dusty Starr is at the top of his game—until a bull throws him and stomps on his leg. He goes home to heal and watch after his grandma until he can rejoin the circuit. While there are no guarantees that bull riding is in his future, his past is alive and well in the form of Gramma's beautiful physical therapist—a woman he never expected to see again.
Physical therapist Lindsey Lang once loved Dusty, but then tragedy struck because of his younger brother's recklessness, and Dusty did something she never thought he'd do. He abandoned her, leaving her to mourn alone. Being assigned to Grandma Starr is hard enough, but with Dusty there, Lindsey's sure her heart won't survive.
Against all expectations, friendship renews, and Dusty dares to hope Lindsey will forgive him. She's the only girl he's ever loved and he aims to get her back. But friendship is one thing. A second chance at love? That will take more gumption than riding a rank bull—and then some.
BUY NOW AT YOUR FAVORITE RETAILER
USA Today bestselling author Lacy Williams delivers the final installment in the Lone Star Brides series…
The Butterfly Bride by USA Today bestselling author Lacy Williams.
The prodigal son is back. Ever since the terrible mistake he made in high school—a mistake that cost his best friend his life—bullfighter Luke Starr has stayed far away from Pecan, Texas, and his family. But with his twin brothers gone on their respective honeymoons, Luke is forced to come back to town to watch over Gramma and the family ranch. And he can't wait to leave again. Because being home hurts more than being stomped on by a bull—and it's only a matter of time until he messes up all over again.
Special ed teacher Jess Sadler will do anything for her students—even abandon her comfort zone to convince a reluctant rodeo cowboy to give "horse lessons" to a student she can't reach. But when feelings for Luke blindside Jess, she knows she's in trouble. The man is counting down the minutes until he can leave Pecan. Will he take her heart with him when he goes?
Then a little boy goes missing on the family ranch, and Luke must confront the ghosts of his past or lose the future he never dreamed was possible.
BUY AT YOUR FAVORITE RETAILER
Dear Reader,
I love Texas. I graduated from Texas Tech, but did stints at both Abilene Christian and Lubbock Christian first. Abilene is a town I draw close to my heart. As a student there, I made a great many friends and traveled to quite a few small towns over weekends and school breaks. I can close my eyes and see the small town of Pecan, even though it's fictional.
My heroine Amy didn't grow up and have many friends her age. I cannot imagine how alone that much feel. I've traveled the US because of friends. Good thing cowboys come to the rescue. I hope you enjoy how Daniel waltzes into her life.
I didn't marry a cowboy, but I dated one once. I still smile when I look at old photos and travel down memory lane.
One of the great things about being a writer is memory lane can be fictionalized.
-Pamela Tracy
Special Delivery Sample
If you enjoyed the hometown feel of Bluebonnet Bride, you might also like Special Delivery by Gayle Roper.
When Kelli accepts a package delivered to the wrong address, she gets a lot more than misdirected mail.
With a lonely holiday weekend facing her, Kelli takes on the challenge of finding the proper recipient of the package wrongly delivered to her. With help from the delivery man, Dane Cavanaugh—and her Great Dane, Charlie—what Kelli discovers will change more than she ever dreamed.
Aspiring novelist Dane volunteers to help with her investigation in hopes of sparking fresh ideas. Before long, he finds himself drawn to the feisty first-grade teacher and wondering about the shadows behind her eyes. When Kelli's investigation takes a dangerous turn, Dane is faced with the reality of his feelings—but is it too late?
Here's a short sample…
The doorbell rang at the same moment Kelli Parson's cell phone played its tune.
Muttering under her breath about bad timing, she dropped her canvas bag of school supplies on the kitchen table and pushed the excited Charlie aside, no easy feat considering the dog's size.
"I love you too," she assured the animal. "Go away. I have to answer the door."
After throwing her an expression of hurt—he was oh-so-good at the guilt thing—he wandered to the beam of light still streaming in the window and collapsed.
Kelli pulled her phone from her pocket. The readout said Nance, and Kelli's stomach clenched.
"Hey, sis," Kelli said as she hurried to the front door. She tripped over Charlie's huge paws as he stretched, taking up the whole living room floor just as he took up the whole bed. He started each night in a compact curl, at least as compact as a Great Dane could be. By morning, Kelli was hanging onto the mattress with barely a sliver to call her own. On the floor, Charlie sprawled from the first flop.
"Don't let me get in your way," she told him as she grabbed the arm of the chair to keep from falling. He answered with a gentle snore.
"I won't," said her sister's voice on the phone.
She spoke into the mouthpiece. "He's got narcolepsy." She hurried through the living room.
"Awful disease," Nance said, "especially if it strikes while you're driving. And who? A man? Tell me it's a man."
"It's the dog, and thank heavens he doesn't drive." Kelli pulled open the front door and found a UPS man in his brown uniform.
"The dog." Nance blew a ladylike strawberry. "How sad is that. But he's not why I called. I want to know why you aren't coming home for Thanksgiving." Nance's words were only slightly slurred.
"You have to sign for this." The UPS man shoved his electronic signature pad and stylus at Kelli. In his other hand, he held out a package the size of a shoebox neatly wrapped in brown paper and sealed with Scotch tape.
"J.D. is going to deep fry our turkey." J.D. was Nance's latest live-in. "He's got one of those big cooker things to use in the backyard."
Kelli tucked her phone between her ear and shoulder. "Great, Nance." She took the signature pad and stylus, ignoring the package due to the inconvenient lack of that third hand. She scribbled Kelli Parsons and hoped a handwriting expert never had to use the signature to prove her identity. "I'm glad for you."
"It'll be such fun." Nance was practically singing.
"Thanks." The UPS man took the things she thrust at him and pushed the package at her again.
She took it, smiling vaguely at him. As she pushed the door shut, she tried to remember what she had ordered that required a signature. Christmas was only a month away, and she did most of her shopping online. The problem was she would have sent any Christmas presents directly to Nance's house.
Not remembering what she'd ordered made this package like a surprise. She tuned out Nance, who was describing the process of frying a turkey, and looked at the return address. Viola, Davis and Keating, Attorneys at Law, Philadelphia, Pennsylvania.
Attorneys at Law? Why were lawyers from Philadelphia mailing her a package? Her mind jumped to all the heroines in the novels she loved, single lonely young women like her who got unexpected letters and packages. She grinned. Maybe she had a previously unknown Great Uncle Barnaby who'd died and left her his vast fortune. Or a distant maiden aunt named Calliope who willed her a crumbling mansion on the Cornish coast. She stifled an unladylike snort. She should be so lucky. And anyway, she'd never come up with the money to fly to England to claim the inheritance and meet the dashing yet brooding hero who came with it.
"Can you believe it?" Nance shrieked in her ear.
Uh-oh. She'd missed part of the conversation. Time to improvise. "No. How very terrible."
There was a moment of startled silence. "What?"
Yikes. Wrong answer. "I meant wonderful, Nance. How wonderful." She flipped the package over, looking for clues. If there was no money or property involved and if her typical good fortune held true, someone had filed suit, and she was about to lose everything she owned—which wasn't all that much, but still, it was hers, and she wanted to keep it.
"It is wonderful!" Nance was back to being as bubbly as a pot of boiling water.
"Be careful." The warning was automatic. She had no idea what she was cautioning against, but Nance's life radar was extremely faulty. She needed warnings, and it was Kelli's job to give them, whether they were welcome or not.
"You are such a killjoy." The polar ice cap had nothing on Nance when robbed of her euphoria.
Kelli sighed. "Sorry." But she wasn't, not really.
"I think you spend your life thinking of things to say to make me unhappy." Icicles dripped from Nance's words.
If pe
ople didn't understand why she wasn't going home for the holiday, all they needed to do was listen to this erratic conversation. "I think it's wonderful J.D. will cook the turkey, and I'm sure you'll have fun."
A noncommittal mmm echoed through space.
"Really! Great fun!" Kelli put as much enthusiasm as she could muster behind the words.
"Well, then, let me tell you what Dad did last week." Nance, at full rolling boil once again, began in minute detail.
The last thing Kelli wanted to know was what their father had done. The things Nance thought were a riot, Kelli thought were tragic. Kelli looked at the package in her hand. The address read Annalise Bennington, 1121 Central Avenue, Main Floor, Seaside, NJ.
Kelli blinked. Annalise Bennington? Who was that?
Not her, that was for sure. No fortune. No mansion in Cornwall. On the positive side, no one was suing her, either.
She needed to catch the UPS man fast!
"Gotta go! Talk later! Happy turkey!" She pushed the off button in the middle of Nance's rhapsody about how J.D., wonderful man that he was, had brought drunken Daddy home and put him to bed, even tucking the covers around him. She dashed to the door and onto the porch.
The UPS guy was running down the stairs of the house across the street, heading to his truck.
"Hey!" She waved her package at him.
When he didn't see or hear her, she ran down the sixteen stairs to the sidewalk. "Hey!"
She heard him turn the engine over. She could imagine him checking the road for traffic prior to pulling out.
"No, no, no! Wait! Stop!"
She reached the curb just as he pulled onto the road, taking care not to bump her little car parked in front of him. She darted into the street after him, raised her hand, and banged on the side of the truck. "Stop! Stop!"
