by Lyn Cote
Jo felt her traitorous lips tingle. Kiss me, Bram. But she must find out something important first. She recalled their conversation just a night ago. He’d said that this time was different. There would be no better opportunity than now to ask him what he meant by that. “Bram,” she murmured, “who did you love before me?” She held her breath.
“Why are you asking me that?”
She blushed at the awkward way she’d phrased her question and drew back from him. “You said I was different, that this time was different.” Uncertainty shivered through Jo. Had she asked too much? “What did you mean?”
He stared straight ahead for a few moments but didn’t release her hand. “I was engaged to be married my last year in college.” His voice hardened. “She was beautiful and I thought I’d made it. I was about to be drafted to the NFL.”
“But you had an injury?” Jo ventured. The halo of city lights hovered ahead on the dark horizon.
“Then you’ve heard the gory details. I wrecked my knee and the draft offers vanished along with my fiancée. She married a teammate of mine that summer who went on to the NFL.”
“I’m sorry.” But Jo couldn’t be completely sorry. She brought his hand close to her, cradling it.
“It was a definite learning experience for me.” His voice became more normal. “I thought she wanted me and what she really wanted was a pro football player. It didn’t do much for my self-esteem.”
“She was a fool.”
“Well, she put me off women for a long time.” Bram slowed for a stop sign. “In fact, I’d pretty much stopped dating after that. I found that being a coach unfortunately drew the same kind of woman and I wasn’t interested in women who were more interested in what I was than in who I was.” Bram looked at her.
Jo smiled and laid a palm on his shoulder. The urge to rest her cheek there also taunted her. “You can’t accuse me of that. I don’t care a thing about football.”
“Is that a fact?” Grinning broadly, he began to slow as they drove into a Little Rock. “We’re here.” His tone became serious again and he put both hands on the wheel. “Let’s hope we caught up with the bus.”
Bereft of his touch, she moved closer to him, needing him. “Well, we should have.”
They pulled up to the curb. The Trailways Bus was parked there, too. Relief flooded Jo. Now they just had to talk Tassie into going home with them.
Bram got out and so did Jo.
“Bram!” Tassie cried and ran toward him. “Oh, Bram! Miss Jo! Take me home!”
Jo and Bram sat at his kitchen table. During the ride home, Tassie had told them about overhearing girls talking about her dating Adam. They’d said several nasty things about Tassie. But by the time Jo and Bram had shown up, Tassie had already worked out the girls’ motivation—jealousy. And she’d been more than ready to come home. Now after she’d inhaled two sandwiches and two glasses of milk, she’d gone up to bed. Peace had settled over Jo and Bram. The clock read a few minutes after two in the morning. “I’ll drive you home,” he said.
They both stood up. Bram opened his arms and Jo walked into them as if she’d always known them as a safe harbor. She rested her head on his shoulder, feeling his strong arms around her.
“I’m afraid I’m going to have to break a promise I made you,” he said, his lips grazing her forehead.
“What promise was that?” she asked, completely unalarmed.
“To give you time. I want to marry you this June.”
“June?” She was thrilled. She was aghast.
“Yes, if we marry in June, I’ll have two months to focus every moment on you. You realize you’ll be marrying a coach and my autumns are pretty much devoted to my team.”
“I don’t remember your proposing.” Turning her head, she grinned at him, teasing.
“Will you marry me?”
“Yes.” As the simple but binding word floated over her tongue, it had never felt more right.
“In June?”
“Yes.” Her feeling of rightness doubled.
“I just won the Super Bowl.”
Jo laughed out loud.
Epilogue
On the last day of June in the bride’s room at Hannah’s Mimosa Bed and Breakfast, Aunt Becky in her mauve aunt-of the-bride outfit fussed with Jo’s veil as the bride sat in front of a gilded vintage vanity. “I don’t know how we pulled this all together in two months’ time,” Becky said with deep sincerity and fatigue.
After initial hesitance, Hannah and Elizabeth had accepted the fact that Jo was serious about marrying Bram. Both had agreed to be bridesmaids. Now, dressed in very simple sleeveless silk mauve gowns, they hovered behind her, all three of them peering over Jo’s shoulder into the mirror. The door opened. “It’s time,” Elizabeth’s mother told them. “Elizabeth, you’re first.” Elizabeth and Hannah both blew kisses to Jo and then swished out of the room.
Jo rose and turned. To Becky, she’d never looked lovelier. Near tears of joy, Becky pulled the veil down over Jo’s lovely face. “I wish your mother could be here.”
Jo’s lips trembled into a smile. “Me, too.”
Becky rested both hands on Jo’s shoulders. “Honey, I want you to know something. I’ve prayed for your wedding ever since the day of Johnny Harrison’s funeral. I overheard that pact you three girls swore to. But you and your friends deserve good, honest men. Bram is the perfect man for you. Now that you’ve regained your faith in men because of him, will you pray that God will bring Elizabeth and Hannah their true loves, too?”
Agreeing with a nod, Jo pressed her lips together, obviously holding back emotion.
Becky remembered that every good and perfect gift comes from the Father above. She closed her eyes and prayed, Father, you’ve finally answered my prayers for Jo. Now please send two more good men for Elizabeth and Hannah. I’m not going to quit until all three have found the love they deserve. In Jesus’ name, amen. And I mean it, Lord.
THE DREAM MAN
Lenora Worth
To my husband, Don, my very own dream man.
And if I have all faith, so as to remove mountains, but do not have love, I am nothing.
—I Corinthians 13:2
Chapter One
He could tell she didn’t want to do this.
Jake Clark watched, fascinated, as Elizabeth Sinclair shook her head and tried to hide behind the girth of a woman wearing a ridiculous cobalt-blue hat. He could barely see Elizabeth’s golden-brown curls behind the dyed ostrich feathers fluttering out in the afternoon wind.
But he sure knew she was there.
Jake had taken a liking to Elizabeth the minute they’d met just before the ceremony. His best friend Bram Dixon had just married Elizabeth’s friend Jo Woodward. This was a happy occasion for Jake. He was glad Bram had finally found someone to love. But he sure couldn’t tell that by the little bundle of bridesmaid he’d watched coming up the aisle earlier. Elizabeth had done her bridesmaid duties with a look of solid fear plastered on her freckled face, her toes tapping nervously in her three-inch mauve-colored heels.
Apparently, hazel-eyed Elizabeth Sinclair equated marriage right up there with executions and hog-killings. She didn’t want any part of this and she sure wasn’t about to try and catch the bouquet of spring flowers Jo was about to throw.
“Go,” Jake heard someone saying. Then he watched, smiling, as Jo’s Aunt Becky and her good friend and fellow bridesmaid Hannah West shoved Elizabeth toward the crowd of single women gathered just outside the church.
“I don’t want to go,” Elizabeth exclaimed, glancing back at the determined, laughing women urging her forward. “I’d rather stay back here, out of sight.”
“Nonsense,” Aunt Becky said, gently nudging Elizabeth. “You need to be right in the thick of things.”
Elizabeth straightened her simple satin dress and glanced around, her gold-flecked eyes beaming in on Jake’s grinning face as Aunt Becky marched her front and center. “What’s so funny, cowboy?” she asked, tossin
g her head so fast her upswept curls lost a few pins.
Jake swept her an elaborate bow. “You, darlin’. I get the impression you’d rather be any other place on earth. What’s the matter, Lizzie, allergic to weddings?”
She rewarded him with a cat-eyed mock smile. “Yes, weddings and long, tall Texans with lazy grins. They both give me the hives.”
Jake let out a hoot of laughter that had everyone staring. “Need me to scratch that itch for you, Lizzie?”
She rolled her eyes as she hurried by, the brush of lilac-colored satin from her gown teasing Jake like a breath of fresh air as she passed. “No, I don’t, and my name is Elizabeth, not Lizzie.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Jake replied, waving her on with a hand out in the air. “I pity the man who gets you for a wife.”
“Don’t worry about me,” Elizabeth said on a deliberately sweet note. “I don’t intend to get married anytime soon.”
Jake only nodded and grinned. “We’ll see about that, Miss Lizzie.”
“I don’t like cowboys,” Elizabeth said later as she shifted Jo’s bouquet in her hands. Staring down at the beautiful grouping of white and burgundy-red roses mixed with babies’ breath only made her want to hold on to the flowers forever, or sit down and cry. “And I wish I hadn’t caught this bouquet.”
Her friend Hannah patted her arm and gave her a mock pitying look. “Poor baby. Always the bridesmaid—”
“And I don’t want to be the bride,” Elizabeth interjected, her eyes scanning the crowd at the reception until they settled on Jake Clark. “I can’t believe Jo turned traitor on us and got married.”
While Elizabeth pouted and over-analyzed the handsome Texan who stood in the corner quietly watching the wedding celebration, Hannah buzzed around the table, making sure they still had plenty of chicken salad cream puffs and mixed nuts.
“She didn’t betray us, Elizabeth,” Hannah said. “She fell in love.”
Elizabeth glared at the man across the way. He inclined his head and gave her a soft, knowing smile, which only aggravated her even more. “I know, and I’m truly happy for her, but we made a pact—”
“Yes, we did,” Hannah said, coming to stand by her. “But, honey, we’re not getting any younger. And life is short. I don’t intend to get married either, but I can’t begrudge Jo her chance. Bram is a good man and they make a wonderful couple. And look at her—she’s beaming with joy.”
“Yeah, I can see that,” Elizabeth said, whirling to place the elaborate bouquet on a nearby table, her own hidden dreams too far away to imagine. “I need a glass of punch. My throat is so dry.”
Hannah tugged at Elizabeth’s arm. “We just made a fresh batch. I think one of the waiters put it over there on that table.”
“Great,” Elizabeth said, noting that the table with the fresh punch was in the vicinity of the Texan. She’d have to be polite to that offending man if she wanted to quench her thirst. Elizabeth strolled over toward the punch, intent on getting a drink and getting out of Jake Clark’s way.
“Let me get that for you,” he said as she approached the table and started to ladle some of the pink liquid.
“No, thanks. I’m fine. Got it,” she said, hurrying so fast to pour herself a cup, she sloshed punch all over Hannah’s white lace tablecloth.
“Oops,” Jake said, quickly handing her a napkin.
“Thanks so much.” She gave him her best fake smile and turned to beat a fast path to the other side of the garden.
“Hey, now, wait up,” Jake said, his big hand roping her back around. “You move faster than a Texas twister.”
Elizabeth glanced down at his tanned hand. His fingers felt warm against her bare skin, his grip sure and firm. “And you’re kinda slow on the uptake.”
“I don’t get in any hurry, that’s a fact,” he replied, his gray eyes sweeping her face. “Life’s too short to get all flustered.”
“You’re the second person who’s said that to me today,” Elizabeth replied, taking a quick sip of her punch for fortification. “If life is so short, why is this reception dragging on and on?”
“Maybe the Lord is trying to tell you something,” Jake said, that slow, lazy smile slinking over her nerve endings like buttery-soft leather. “Maybe you need to slow down and enjoy your friend’s happy occasion.”
“Maybe,” Elizabeth retorted, not in much of a hurry to get away now. “But I don’t think the Lord is interested in dealing with the likes of me.”
“Prickly, aren’t we?”
“I’m not prickly,” she said, gritting her teeth. “And besides, why are you so nosy and annoying, anyway?”
“Do I annoy you, Lizzie?”
“Yes, you do. I only just met you two hours ago, but I can safely say that out of those two hours, you’ve annoyed me pretty much the whole time.” And she seemed to be enjoying it, inviting his flirtations, a little voice in her head pointed out. That was completely silly, but understandable. It had been a while since she’d had a decent date, after all.
“Just being friendly.”
His shrug was as intoxicating as his killer smile. The man knew how to wear a well-cut suit, that was for sure. And with black cowboy boots, of course. Any pure-blooded Texan worth his salt always had a pair of dress boots in his closet.
Wanting to push matters, Elizabeth shook her head. “So you were just being friendly, the way you stared at me and kept winking at me during the entire ceremony?”
“So you did notice.”
Hating the triumph in his glittering eyes, she tapped her foot and set down her drained punch glass. “How could I not notice? We were standing right across from each other.”
He nodded, his eyes moving over her again. “I might say the same for you. How could I not notice an attractive woman standing right across from me? I tell you, Lizzie, I think I fell in love right then and there.”
“Please,” she said, spinning away with a wave of her hand and a hiss of satin. “Mr. Clark, you can save that good-ol’-boy routine for all those cowgirls back on the ranch. I’m not buying it.” But she smiled, her first real smile all day, she decided. She could feel her jaw muscles actually relaxing.
“What a shame,” he said, following her, his long strides outmatching her short, clipped steps. “Seeing as how I’m going to be in Prescott for a while, I could use a good tour guide.”
“A tour guide? For Prescott! Just turn around at Elm Street and work your way back and you’ve just about seen the whole town.”
“Right, but I’m gonna need to see more than just the main street through lovely downtown. I want to buy some land. Got my eye on a piece northwest of here, along the Caddo River. And rumor has it, you’re the best Realtor this side of Texarkana.”
“I’m flattered, but I deal in houses, not land, Mr. Clark.”
“Jake. The name is Jake.”
“Okay, Jake. I don’t do land. But I can give you the name of another Realtor who does.”
“But I want you.”
The way he said it caused Elizabeth to look up into his eyes. A mistake. They looked as rich and mysterious as a moonlit mountain, all silvery and full of depth. “I’m really busy these days.”
“I know. Top sales for the first quarter of the year, already. You must be a firecracker, since there’s not a whole lot of property around here to sell in the first place.”
Impressed that he knew her accomplishments, she said, “I work the entire region, not just this town.”
“So work with me.”
It was a challenge. And Elizabeth just loved a good challenge. But working with Jake Clark, spending time with him? Elizabeth didn’t think she was up to that particular challenge. The man had set her teeth on edge from the first minute he’d walked into the parlor of the church, too tall and way too good-looking to be a mere mortal. Maybe it was the way he’d looked at her, as if he knew her deepest, darkest secrets. Or maybe it was that smile that slid across his wide mouth and danced its way into those disturbing silver eyes until
a girl couldn’t breathe from the fascination and brilliance of it.
Mentally shaking herself, Elizabeth started to protest yet again. “I couldn’t possibly—”
“I’d be mighty obliged,” Jake said.
“You need to lose the hokey cowboy vocabulary,” she said by way of an answer.
He straightened, his smile gone, his eyes turning the color of steel. “Sorry, Lizzie. This is who I am.”
She could see she’d touched a nerve. It should have brought her some measure of satisfaction, but instead it left her unsettled and confused. She quickly covered that with a snappy comeback.
“Yeah, well, this is who I am. And I’m afraid I can’t help you with your search for land, Jake.”
He didn’t back down. “Then how ’bout dinner sometime next week?”
Elizabeth actually laughed to hide the heavy tempo of her heart. “You’re asking me out on a date?”
“Yeah. You do know what a date is, don’t you, Lizzie?”
Elizabeth felt the blush all the way down her backbone. She hadn’t been on an actual date in so long, she probably had forgotten what one was like. “My name is Elizabeth,” she said, her jaws going so tight, she knew she’d get a migraine later. With a valiant effort at dignity, she tried to move past him. “I appreciate the offer, but no, thanks.”
Jake headed her off at the pass. “Elizabeth,” he said, his tone soft and full of exaggeration. “I’d like to get to know you, to take you out on the town. I’m going to be here for a good long while, and, well, I know I’ll get downright lonely.”
“It won’t kill you.”
“And it won’t kill you to accept my invitation, will it?”
“Probably,” she said.
Then against her better judgment, she nodded. “Call me next week, and we’ll see. I’m in the book.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he said. He sauntered away, whistling the tune of some ridiculous country song.
