Excerpt from Cowboy Cootchie-Coo
Every eye in the Yellowjacket Cafe was on him. Brant Durning could feel the stares. His absence from Fairhaven, Texas, for the past three months hadn't gone unnoticed by the local residents--nor his return. He knew the topic of the day far outweighed interest in the soup of the day: What is Brant going to do about his wild little sister, Camille?
Sipping some iced tea, Brant supposed he'd given everyone plenty to be curious about. He caught Maggie Mason, the cook, watching him from her place behind the short-order line and grimaced. The grin on her face was telling. Before he had walked in to order lunch, no doubt the conversation had been centered on the fit he'd pitched when he returned to his ranch to discover the cows weren't the only things expecting offspring.
Cami had found a way to keep herself occupied with a man from a neighboring horse farm. Brant's brows furrowed. Shocked, and hurt for Cami's sake that there was no engagement ring on her finger, Brant had stormed her lover's house, demanding the man marry her at once and give a name to the child she carried.
Closing his eyes, Brant thought the only thing he'd left out of his outraged brother routine was a shotgun. He hadn't needed it. Cami's man had turned out to be more than eager to marry her, and the wedding plans were already in full swing--two weeks until the big day and counting.
"It ain't so bad, is it?"
Brant opened his eyes to see Maggie gazing at him as she slid into the cracked turquoise booth seat across from him. Her broad, ebony face was lit with impish laughter.
"Don't guess it's ever as bad as it seems," Brant replied. Maggie had known him all his life, even before he'd been old enough to drive himself to the Yellowjacket for mashed potatoes and greens. There wasn't any use in trying to act like he didn't know what she was referring to.
"Nope, it's not." Her voice was amused. "Things were bound to change while you were away, Brant. Even in a small town, people's lives go on."
"Yeah." Of course, the interest-catching change had been in the Durning family. Why couldn't Cami have been more careful of her situation? Twenty-six was old enough to be able to stay out of trouble. As much as he loved Cami, her predicament was embarrassing.
"Everyone's going to think my cooking isn't agreeing with you. Your chin is hitting the table," Maggie told him.
He sighed and ran a hand absently across the back of his neck. "I'm all right, Maggie. I've got an errand to run that I'm not much looking forward to."
That was more truthful than he'd meant to be. Surprised by his own statement, Brant slid his gaze to the plate-glass window. Across the street sat the next stop on his chore list. Wedding Wonderland was printed in big, scrolling white letters across the shop window. Customers walked into the two-story, white building, itself almost resembling a wedding cake, coming out later carrying packages and wearing big smiles on their faces.
Once, going into the Wedding Wonderland had made him smile, too. Grace Barclay was the owner of the shop--and the only woman he'd ever come close to letting touch his heart. Today, he was going in to her shop to pick up Cami's wedding gown, and there was nothing to make him smile about that.
Facing Grace after all these months made his stomach shift uncomfortably. Suddenly, Brant realized Maggie's delicious chicken-fried steak wasn't sitting too well with him.
"I need to be getting on," he told her.
Maggie nodded. "Tilly, bring Brant his check, please."
The tall, long-legged waitress laid a piece of paper at his elbow. Normally, he enjoyed talking to the friendly waitress. Tilly was like everybody's little sister. Now all he could manage was a thin smile of thanks as he put enough money on the table to cover tab and tip.
"Thanks. 'Bye, Maggie." He got up, feeling the weight of the world on his shoulders. Nodding to a couple of regulars playing checkers at their customary table by the door, he hoped that would pass for a social amenity.
"Going somewhere?" Buzz Jones asked.
"Yep." Brant told himself Buzz's grin had always been that big, whether he had teeth or not.
"Heard tell there's going to be a wedding at the Double D," Purvis Brown called out.
There was no laughter at Brant's expense. It felt more like every ear in the cafe stretched out elephant-like to hear his reply. He settled his Stetson lower over his eyes. "You'll get your invitation, Purvis. Don't worry."
"Going to be a big hoe-down, is it?"
"Big enough, I reckon. See ya." Brant left, unable to take the friendly ribbing a moment longer. Darn Cami for her recklessness! Standing outside on the cement walk, Brant stared unhappily at the Wedding Wonderland. Truth was, if he hadn't been so hot-headed with his visit to Cami's fiancé and family, no one in the town would have had much to talk about.
Unfortunately, the situation was of his own making. Now, folks would be watching from behind the Yellowjacket's plate- glass window as he walked into the Wedding Wonderland empty- handed.
And they'd be watching when he came out carrying a wedding gown.
He didn't want to do this. No three-month cattle buying trip, no keeping busy with the herds in the three months prior, had been able to wipe Grace out of his memory. She had always been there, in the smoky bars and the sensual laughter of other women. He'd told himself that the flame of their relationship had dwindled to a spark that couldn't burn his heart.
He had been lying to himself for six months.
I'm a fool to let Cami talk me into this. Cami, too ill with morning sickness that seemed to stretch all day, had pleaded with him to go pay the final installment on her wedding gown and bring it home. With the dimpled smile Brant had never been able to refuse, Cami claimed she might feel better if she could see her dream dress hanging in her own room.
Pushing the curved handle of the shop door, Brant wished he had never agreed to cross the threshold of the Wedding Wonderland. He cleared his throat, uncomfortable with the white decor and full-length mirrors around the room. The sensation of being out of his element was overwhelming.
"Just a minute. I'll be right with you," a woman called.
Brant's gut clenched at the sound of Grace's voice. She poked her head out from behind what appeared to be a fitting room door. Her mouth fell open. His glance skittered away before returning to brave her astonishment.
"Uh, hello, Brant."
All he could do was nod. Lord, how could she sound so casual? The tops of his ears felt like they were on fire. Since Grace hadn't come out, all he could see was her face. When they'd been in love, he had thought she was the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen. Somehow, she was even more beautiful now.
"Is there something I can do for you?"
Again, he nodded. "I need to pick up Cami's wedding gown."
"Oh. I see." She seemed to think about that for a minute. "Um, I'm kind of busy right now. The gown is hanging on a rolling rack down that hallway if you don't mind getting it yourself."
Once upon a time, he would have done anything to wipe the strained expression from Grace's face. Her blond hair was longer now, making her appear more feminine than ever. Her eyes were still huge and hazel and guaranteed to strike a man in his weakest moments. Brant told himself he wasn't having a weak moment right now.
"Fine. I'll do that." Though he wondered momentarily why she was sending him off in pursuit of his own purchase, he could only assume the woman wanted to avoid time in his company. The feeling was mutual, he told himself grumpily, as he searched through the stock tags on the gowns bearing customer names. He read each one a second time, but there was no gown tagged Durning. Glancing around to see if he might have missed another rolling rack, Brant decided Grace was just going to have to help him out on this one. No matter how awkward the situation.
He walked back out into the main salon. "I can't find it," he told her. Her position was still defensive as she hovered behind the door. His remark didn't seem to make her happy, either.
"You couldn't find it? I was sure I hung it out."
He shrugged. She appeared to lose a shade of color in her face, which only made the pin-point freckles he used to love to stroke with his finger stand out all the more.
"Could I have it sent around to your house this afternoon? I'm kind of tied up right now, and--"
"Cami really wanted to see her gown," Brant interrupted. He hesitated for a moment. "Grace, this isn't easy for either one of us. Actually, it's worse than I thought it would be. But we have to live in the same town, run across each other once in a while. Help me out here, Grace. I can't go home without that gown."
"All right." She released an unhappy sigh, shooting him a wary look that nearly undid him. Those eyes of hers had always been his weakness. Slowly, she stepped out from behind the door, holding a woman's undergarment in front of her.
But that didn't disguise what she'd obviously been trying to hide. Brant's jaw dropped.
"Grace--"
"This is a bustier." She pressed the undergarment to her midsection as she swished past him. "Some dresses require them. Cami won't need one with her--"
He caught her arm, turning her toward him, halting her un- Grace-like chatter. Slowly, his gaze traveled over her body, cataloguing extreme changes. "You're pregnant."
Her blush was painful to see.
"You came in to pick up your sister's gown, Brant," she said, meeting his stare. Pointedly, she pulled her arm from his grasp. "If you'll excuse me, I'll go get it for you."
Brant couldn't believe his eyes as he watched Grace walk away from him. From the back her figure had hardly changed. From the front, it was obvious she was in the advanced stages of pregnancy. He swallowed, recognizing jealousy pouring through him in a rush he never thought he'd feel. He'd protected his emotions far too long to feel this way. It shouldn't matter that Grace was having another man's baby.
She came back, carrying a profusion of shiny satin and frothy lace under clear protective wrappings. "Would you believe it was still in the stockroom? My seamstress just finished making the alterations this morning. I hope Cami will be pleased." She thrust the gown into Brant's arms. "Please tell your sister to let me know if there's anything else I can do for her."
"You can do something for me." Brant didn't want to know the answer. All the same, he had to find out. "You can tell me how long it took after we broke up for you to find someone else."
He felt like he was dying. Sure, they'd broken up, but that didn't mean he had ever stopped thinking about her. Every morning as he shaved, every night as he tried to fall asleep, he thought about the woman he just couldn't marry.
Apparently, she hadn't been missing him too much.
She looked angry. "That's none of your business."
He wanted to know who she was sleeping with. There was no ring on her finger; he wanted to know why the guy hadn't married her, though it was none of his business. Regrettably, his heart didn't seem to care. He wanted to know if she was in love with the jerk.
"Grace, I--" He couldn't tell her there hadn't been a woman who could hold a candle to her in his life. Trying again, he said, "You're having a baby."
"Yes. I am." Her stare was forthright.
"I hadn't heard you were dating anybody seriously."
Her lips curved. "I wasn't aware you cared what happened to anyone in Fairhaven."
Not Cami, and certainly not me. She hadn't spoken the words, but they echoed Maggie's statement. A lot had changed in Fairhaven.
"I care. I care a lot. Right now, I care that you're expecting a baby and I don't see the proud papa hanging around."
"No. You wouldn't see him hanging around."
The sadness in her voice hurt him. She deserved better treatment than this. "Are you in love with the jerk?" he asked, hating himself for having to know.
She paused. Her lips trembled, before her lashes suddenly swept downward. "I was--once."
And then it hit him. Like a piercing flash of light in a dense fog, Brant knew why the regulars at the Yellowjacket had been staring at him. Knew what was behind Maggie's broad grin. They hadn't been waiting to rib him about his rush to Cami's defense.
"It's mine, isn't it?" he whispered hoarsely. Without waiting for her to confirm or deny it, Brant's gaze riveted back to her stomach. That was six months worth of pregnancy, at least. He remembered their last night together, and the warm glow in Grace's eyes, those fascinating hazel eyes, as he'd lain with her in his bedroom. November hadn't yet brought the chill of winter, but they'd enjoyed the humid wisps of wind filtering through an open window across their skin.
That afternoon she had mentioned marriage. He had known inside himself their relationship had to be over.
This, then, was the repayment for his reluctance. Only Grace had paid the price, alone.
"I'm so sorry," he began. "I had no--"
The shop door swung open. A tall, broad-shouldered man walked inside, his gaze immediately swinging to Brant.
"Heard you were back in town, Brant."
"Howdy, Kyle."
An unmistakable aura of uneasiness permeated the room. They formed a triangle of sorts standing there, each watching the other. Brant could feel the other man's intense dislike.
"Are you ready, Grace?" Kyle asked.
"Let me lock up." She shot a pointed glance Brant's way. He realized he was persona non grata, not that he'd been grata since he'd walked in the store.
Slinging Cami's wedding gown over one arm, he nodded briskly at Kyle. "Thanks," he said to Grace. Then he left, his blood racing with jealous unhappiness.
In the window across the street, a row of faces disappeared from sight. Brant groaned, knowing what topic was going to be discussed over pork chops and grilled onions tonight. He could hear the whispers: If Brant hadn't been so wary of a woman wearing wedding white, he might not be watching his lady--and his baby--strolling down the street with another man.
