The Cowboy Takes a Bride (5 page)

She told herself that it didn't matter, but it did. Having someone believe in you was important.

But proving wrong those who
didn't
believe in you could also be great motivation.

 

It was almost closing time on Saturday afternoon when Ross parked in front of the feed store. He needed to grab some more wire from Pete's, but found himself heading toward the real-estate office instead, despite his determination to stay away. No matter how many times he went over it in his head, he still felt like he owed Sugar some sort of explanation for his abrupt behavior on Wednesday morning.

He wasn't at all sure what kind of welcome to expect as he opened the door and stepped inside.

“Hey, cowboy!”

Her greeting both startled him and made him wary at the same time. “Hey yourself,” he said, moving cautiously into the room.

“You're just the man I was hoping would walk through those doors today.”

“I am?” He was immediately suspicious.

“Oh yeah. How's my building doing? You know I'm holding auditions tonight?” Her eyes were sparkling. “I've been monitoring the visitors I've run into over the last couple of days, and I'm feeling more optimistic by the carload. There's been a real eclectic mix of folks. College girls looking for cowboys, weekend browsers shopping at Ashby's dress store, and even older couples just hanging out. I've been polling everyone about why they came to town. Most of them say it's a pleasant day trip. These kinds of people will make a perfect audience when I put my show on in your lovely barn.” She was beaming at him when she finally finished.

He wasn't sure whether to be irritated that she hadn't given up on his barn, or amused. “About that—I thought I'd come in here and try to explain myself a little better. There was no excuse for me to turn you down so callously.” It was true, he'd concluded. He could have turned her down without being so abrupt.

She waved off his apology. “I'm sure you had your reasons. As I'm also sure that, now you've had time to think it over, you've come to your senses and decided to go into partnership with me on my show.” Grinning, she rested her chin on her palm and studied him.

He laughed at her blatant tactics. “You're persistent, I'll give you that.”

“Nope. I only want you to give me the use of your barn.” She batted her eyes at him. “Just say yes. It's easy.”

He was in danger here.

“I promise you,” she continued, “people will come out to see my production. We'll do a few skits and some singing, and oh yeah, did I tell you I need a hero? You'd make a great hero.”

Man, she really didn't take no for an answer! He liked that about her and found himself wanting to say yes. But that wouldn't be fair to either of them. Still, she was persuasive. What red-blooded American man wouldn't want a woman to think he'd make a great hero? Too bad they were on two different life paths, he reminded himself.

“I'm not your man,” he said, hating the disappointment that flickered in her eyes. “Look, I just don't believe you understand what it takes to pull off what you're proposing. There is a lot of work that would have to be done to the barn. It would take time, money, insurance. But most of all, it would take commitment, not just to produce the show, but to keep it running. You're leaving as soon as you get some great reviews. Sorry, but I don't see any commitment in that. I know that sounds harsh, but it's the truth. That's what I came to say.” He tipped his hat and headed toward the door, needing to leave before he weakened. He wasn't expecting her to shoot out of her chair and jump between him and the door.

“You can't say no.” She placed her hand on his chest, stopping him. “Don't you get it? I
need
your barn. It's the only place that will work.”

The panic in her words matched that on her face, making Ross falter. Those pleading eyes twisted his gut more than he was prepared for. A picture flashed through his mind of a frail little girl sitting in front of the TV. “I'm sorry, but that's just the way it is,” he reiterated, feeling like a bottom-feeder for denying her this. He hung his head, trying to keep from giving in, and found himself looking at her feet. She had
smiley faces
on her big toenails, almost hidden by the flip-flops with large, frilly tassels that swamped her tiny feet.

The smiley faces were as unexpected as she was.

“What size shoe do you wear?” His own blurted question startled him more than the smiley faces, and he swung his head up. Now he felt like a bottom-feeder
and
an idiot.

The panic from seconds before vanished as she chuckled, sticking her foot beside his size twelve without missing a beat. “A five narrow. A bit of a difference?” She wiggled her smiley faces at him. “Your foot is just the right size for a hero, don't you think?”

She looked up at him and flashed a smile complete with dimples. This was crazy! Crazy for certain, but he lost his breath looking at her.

“So how about it? Will you be my hero and
pul-leese
let me use the barn?”

His resolve almost crumbled as he found himself wanting to be her hero in more ways than one. But their plans were incompatible. He shook his head, clearing it. “I'm sorry.”

She didn't flinch, budge or blink. “You know I'm not going to leave you alone. You'll have no peace until you give in and at least agree to rent me the building. My feet might be small, but my determination is huge.”

He didn't doubt her for one minute. She'd already shown she didn't give up easily. He knew he needed to get out quick before he gave in, but curiosity got the better of him. “So why aren't you some big movie star by now? With your winning ways, I figured you'd camp out on a director's front steps and talk him into putting you into his movie.”

“My agent won't let me,” she huffed. “Says it wouldn't do me any good.”

“I really hate to tell you this, but it won't do any good with me, either.” He wasn't going to tell her how close she was getting. But almost as if she could see it in his eyes, she smiled and stepped out of his way.

“We'll see about that, cowboy. I haven't given up on Hollywood and I'm not giving up on you. This is fair warning.”

Ross grinned in spite of himself. “Fair enough.” It wouldn't do her any good, but he enjoyed her spirit, despite his own reservations.

Having closed for the day, Pete was driving off as Ross walked out onto the sidewalk, with Sugar on his heels. So much for accomplishing what he'd come to town for.

“Tryouts start at seven tonight.”

“I hope you have a good turnout. But I have a feeling you're going to see what I've been trying to tell you. You don't know what you're getting into, Sugar.”

“You could help me and fix all that.”

He hesitated before opening his truck door. “That's what I've been trying to explain without being too harsh. I don't want to. Have a nice day, Sugar Rae.”

Hands clasped behind her back, she rocked forward on her size-five feet and locked determined eyes on him. “I plan to, Ross Denton. You can count on that.”

Live and learn,
Ross thought as he drove away. It was obvious the woman would do what she was going to do regardless of what anyone advised. So be it. He shouldn't feel guilty for not helping her. But truth was, he did.

“S
o when is the show scheduled?” a cowboy named Trace asked from the second row.

Sugar was pleased with the turnout. Glancing around the roomful of cowboys, she felt sure that the talent she needed was here. Except, of course, Ross was conspicuously absent.

“I was hoping to open in five weeks. We'll have to work really hard initially, but then the rehearsals can just be once or twice a week. Since we'll only be doing a Friday-night show and two shows on Saturday, we won't need to run through the whole thing every night.” Sugar was ready to continue by telling them about the different songs, and asking if any of them played musical instruments, when she noticed the frowns rippling around the room. Several of the cowboys began talking to each other, and shaking their heads.

Head shaking was never a good thing.

“Is something wrong?”

“Well, yes ma'am, there is,” a cowboy drawled, standing up and hooking his thumb in a belt loop. “We didn't realize you were looking for a long-term commitment. We're
cowboys
. We have work to do.”

Another one stood, joining the mutiny. “We just can't make a commitment like that. Our hours are long and unpredictable. We can take off for the occasional show, like we've done in the past. But every Friday night and two times on Saturday, plus practice—well, that puts most of us out.”

A whiplash of dread slammed into Sugar. “But think about all the benefits.”

“What benefits?”

What benefits?
“The experience and the exposure.” Once she'd said the words out loud and looked around the room, the “benefits” suddenly didn't sound logical to her ears. The cowboys' blank looks told her exactly how out of touch she was with what they were looking for in life. It wasn't a career in the spotlight…. As a matter of fact, gazing at them, she felt foolish. Sugar was used to living in a town where everyone was looking for a way to break out. Clearly, in this room, she was the only one with that goal.

“I was afraid of this,” Lacy said, worry in her eyes.

“We thought you were going to rehearse a few times, then do a show and be done with it. Like Lacy always does,” yet another cowboy said as he stood up. By now, they were popping up like weeds.

Not good. Not good at all. Sugar could feel their withdrawal, knew they were about to make a break for the door.

“But it'll be fun. Surely you can find the time—”

“I'm real sorry, but I can't commit to something like this,” Trace the cowboy said, stepping toward the door.

Other apologies rolled across the room, and within moments, just as she'd feared, the full room began to empty.

Sugar watched as, one by one and two by two, every man in the room respectfully tipped his hat at her, then headed out the door.

The icy grip of panic tightened around her throat with each one. She was so distressed, she couldn't speak and had to fight to keep from throwing herself in front of them. It was one thing to embarrass herself before Ross by letting down her guard, but she couldn't let an entire room of men see her lose it.

“Don't get discouraged,” Esther Mae said after the last booted, spur-clinking male disappeared out the door. “There has to be a way around this.”

“That's right,” Adela said. “God will show the way if this is what He wants.”

Sugar didn't like the sound of that.
Lay down your dream
—the words came back to her and she struggled to ignore them. It was getting harder and harder to stay positive on this roller coaster.

“I think He is,” Lacy said. “There's a way around this. You may just have to come up with an alternate plan.”

“Seems like that's the ongoing theme since I arrived,” Sugar murmured, unable to hide the discouragement she was feeling as she slumped into a chair. “If I can't get a barn or cowboys, then I'm doomed.”

“Now, now, it'll work out,” Esther Mae soothed. “I know it will. After all, you're going to be the main attraction. Right?”

“That's absolutely right,” Norma Sue answered for her. “First off, you will get the barn. Second, all you have to do is put a show together where you're the star. Then simply build some entertainment around you that can be easily changed, show to show. You'd just have to alter the approach, and get the fellas to commit to short rotations.”

“That's a great idea,” Lacy exclaimed. “The guys really do enjoy doing the shows. The girls all get a kick out of seeing them sing, and most local cowboys are up for whatever will help them find the right gal.”

“I don't know.” After this latest disappointment, Sugar was reluctant to get her hopes back up. “They all sounded pretty firm about it being too much to commit to. And Ross hasn't budged on the barn.”

Lacy sat down beside her. “Don't let this get you down. You trust the Lord, right?”

Sugar was
trying
to trust the Lord. “That's why I'm here. I believed this is where God wants me to be. I'd so hoped this was where my dreams were going to get their start.”

“Then keep that chin up,” Esther Mae said, with all the enthusiasm of a coach.

Sugar laughed. “Okay, okay. I'm not giving up.”

“That-a-girl,” Norma Sue said as the others chimed in. “Mule Hollow is
not
a place where people give up.”

“You know what?” Sugar said as realization dawned. “Ross knew. He realized the guys would react this way. He tried to warn me, but I didn't get that until now.”

Adela spoke up. “He does have experience. Not just in the entertainment business, but in the cowboy business, too.”

Sugar narrowed her eyes. “He stood right there in front of me and watched me be happy and positive, all the while knowing the cowboys were going to turn me down flat.”

Indignation pushed her up from her chair. “Of all the downright dirty, mean tricks,” she said through gritted teeth, while everyone looked at her with startled expressions. They could probably see steam boiling out of her ears. “If you will excuse me, I believe it's time for me and a certain cowboy to have a little heart-to-heart.”

She strode down the aisle and out the door. She could hear everyone scrambling out of their chairs, and then clambering out to the plank sidewalk. But she didn't look back as she crossed the street. Her mind was focused on Ross Denton.

He thought she was a pushover. He thought that she was just some happy-go-lucky balloon head who hadn't thought out any of this! He could have warned her,
really
warned her. Actually said the words. Even if he didn't want to let her use his barn, or take a part in her production, it wouldn't have hurt him to give her a little advice!

“Sugar,” Lacy called, stopping her as she was about to close the door of her car. “Maybe you need to calm down just a little.”

“Calm down? I don't think so. Thanks for showing up, girls, but I have urgent business to attend to now. I have a cowboy to lynch.”

She slammed the door and cranked the ignition, glancing out the window before backing up. The older ladies flanked Lacy, and they watched as she turned her car toward Ross's place.

It was only then that she remembered that while the old barn was on a part of his ranch, she had no idea where his house was located. Stomping on the brake, she rolled down her window. “Could one of you please tell me where he lives?” From the looks that shot between them, she was afraid they wouldn't.

But Norma Sue, bless her heart, propped her hands on her hips and grinned. “After you pass the lane that takes you to the barn, there will be a big curve about a mile down the road. His is the first drive on the left.”

“It's a good piece down the lane,” Esther Mae added. She was smiling, too. “Don't kill him,” she giggled, and everyone grinned. It was quite strange, actually.

Sugar didn't know what in the world they found funny about this. That mean, horrible man had basically made a fool out of her. In a huff, she pressed on the gas.

It was time for a showdown.

 

With the crickets providing backup, Ross lay beneath his tractor, singing while he worked. It was a George Strait number about a father's love, an old song Ross had sung with Grandpop in the early days. That was appropriate, since today was his dad's birthday. Earlier, he'd called Jud Denton and wished him a good day. Before saying goodbye, they'd talked about the tractor Ross was ready to burn, the beavers he was ready to shoot and finally the woman he couldn't get out of his head.

The one he continued to feel guilty about.

He was well aware of the time. Sugar was probably in the middle of her tryouts. And more than likely, things weren't going well.

He'd been trying not to think about it, he couldn't help himself. After all, it was Sugar, the woman who'd imprinted herself on his mind like a brand. They'd talked three times in the five days since she'd moved to town, and he couldn't get her out of his thoughts.

Since he'd turned twenty-seven and began heading toward thirty, he'd started to see areas of his life where he was changing. Like this intense tunnel vision he'd developed over finding a wife. He'd heard it called nesting, which made him feel a bit like Elmer Fudd for some reason, or the Pillsbury Doughboy.

Still, he was feeling the need to marry…and although he knew Sugar would be shaking the dust of Mule Hollow off her cute little feet before the New Year set in, she had captured his attention like no other woman ever had. This was not a good thing.

“I thought you were a nice guy!”

Sugar!
At the sound of her angry voice, he jerked up and slammed his head into the undercarriage.

“Ohhh! Are you all right?” she gasped, all the anger dissipating with the thud of his head against steel.

“I'm fine,” he grunted, pulling himself from beneath the tractor as he rubbed his forehead, squinting at her through one eye as pain radiated from the knot he could feel forming above his other eye.

“You have a lump,” she cried, dropping to kneel beside him. She touched his forehead with tentative fingers.

“It'll go away,” he said, still squinting at her. The pain evaporated the second her fingers touched him, or maybe it was the instant she leaned close and he caught the scent of her—like spring, soft and fresh. For a brief moment, they just stared at each other. Then she blinked, her eyes hardened and her fingers fell away.

“Serves you right,” she said. “You
knew
those cowboys would walk out on me the minute I told them what the show would require.”

“Yes, I did.” Ross stood up and grabbed a rag off the tractor's fender, wiping his hands clean. “Like I told you before, this isn't Hollywood, where everybody works a job around their auditions. This is
cattle
country. The cows come first. That's what cowboys do—they tend their animals. And that means they work as long as the day's duties require, and into the night when needed. You should have realized coming into it that acting wouldn't be paramount on their list. That you didn't only proves that you have no idea what you're trying to undertake. Especially since your production depends on having a local cast and crew.”

She crossed her arms, looking as if she'd like to give him another lump on his forehead. But he knew she couldn't deny the truth.

“That may be true, but you still could have warned me. No, wait. I know. You didn't tell me because you can't be bothered with anything that has to do with putting on a
show.
That is such a cop-out.”

“Maybe I should have told you. I didn't think you would listen, but that's irrelevant. The point is that this is just the beginning of things to come that you haven't a clue about. Acting in a commercial and pulling off a production are two entirely different animals. I've been trying to make you understand that. You don't have what it's going to take.”

She glared. “You don't know me. You don't know anything about me! You say I don't have what it takes, but let's talk about you! You are a Singing Dupree. A
Dupree,
for goodness sakes! You're telling me I don't have what it takes, and yet you gave up on your dreams to come here? To do this?” She waved a hand toward his tractor. Her meaning was clear.

“For starters, I didn't give up on my dream. I'm
living
my dream. But you wouldn't understand that—”

“No, I wouldn't! I don't get a guy with a God-given talent throwing it away. But what I really don't get is being selfish. Don't you see what this production could do for the town? Just think of the economics involved. Don't you realize that we could make a difference by helping draw more people here on the weekends? Think of the revenue that would bring into the community.”

He'd been struggling to remain calm, given what he'd learned about her past, but this statement snapped his patience. “C'mon, Sugar. Admit it. You don't care about this community. You're here to get what you can, and then move on. You want to stand there and judge me, then look me in the eye and tell me I'm wrong.”