A Husband of Her Own

He tipped his bottle at her. “That doesn’t mean they’re not critics, babe. Why don’t you tell them to go to hell?”

“Oh, great solution,” she said. “Thanks.”

He finished his cigarette, dropped it on the porch floor and ground it out. “You are what you are. You can’t apologize for that.”

They fell silent while they drank their beer and watched the sun set.

“What ever happened to Delaney?” he asked when it was almost dark, his body a mere shadow in the swing. “She still around?”

“She’s pregnant.”

“Married?”

Rebecca folded her arms and leaned back. “Yeah. She married Clive’s grandson, Conner Armstrong.”

“Who’s Clive?”

“He’s the old guy who owned the Running Y Ranch. Conner owns it now. He’s in the process of building a big resort and golf course.”

“No shit. Delaney’s rich, then?” he asked.

“Not yet, but if everything goes the way it should, she will be. So will Josh and Mike Hill. From what Delaney has told me, they’ve invested quite a bundle in the project.”

“Josh again, huh? This name seems to come up quite often with you.”

“Not really. You just caught me on a bad day.”

“From what I remember, he was a pretty decent football player. He ever go pro?”

“No. He played for the University of Utah for a few years. But once he got his degree he returned home. His brother was already out of school and wanted to partner up, buy some land and start a breeding business.”

“And that’s what they did?”

“That’s what they did.”

“What kind of degree did Josh get?”

“I think they both majored in animal husbandry.”

Booker hooked an arm over the swing and scowled. “What the hell is that?”

“It’s the degree most everyone around here gets,” Rebecca said. “Not that I know a whole lot about it. I went to massage school, realized I couldn’t make a living doing massage, at least in these parts, then went to beauty school. I’ve never seen the inside of a university.”

“That makes two of us.”

“Did you know Josh very well?” she asked.

“No.” Rebecca couldn’t see for sure, but she thought Booker was frowning. His voice, when he spoke, confirmed it. “I’ve never much liked him, though,” he said.

Rebecca laughed. “Neither have I. So what are you doing later? Want to head over to the Honky Tonk?”

CHAPTER FIVE

“WHY WOULD I WANT to see Booker Robinson?” Delaney asked.

Rebecca propped the telephone against her shoulder and turned sideways to contemplate her reflection in the mirror behind her bedroom door. She wanted to look good tonight; she needed to look good. After the past few days, it was time for an emotional comeback.

“Because he’s an old friend.”

“He’s not an old friend of mine.”

Rebecca rotated to the back, checking her behind. Did her butt look big in these jeans? Maybe she should go for the tight black slacks, the ones that rode low on her hips and showed the tattoo she’d gotten to mark her thirtieth birthday. Though she had no romantic designs on Booker, he was just the type of man to appreciate a purple butterfly near her navel. “He’s been gone twelve years. He might have changed,” she said.

“You saw him today. Has he?”

She peeled off the jeans and wiggled into the black slacks. “No. Not a bit.”

“So why are you hanging out with him?” Delaney asked with a chuckle.

Because Buddy had just postponed the wedding again, her own parents didn’t want her to come to their anniversary party, and Josh…Well, Josh was partly to blame as well. She just couldn’t figure out why. “Beats the hell out of sitting home, doesn’t it?”

“Not when you’re seven months pregnant.”

“Come on, Laney. You haven’t been anywhere with me in ages. Bring Conner to the Honky Tonk and have a soda. You can still be in bed by midnight.”

“I’ll think about it,” she said, but her words slurred at the end as if she was yawning. “How’d it go with Josh this morning?”

“Fine.”

“That’s a pretty mellow reaction. Are you on some type of sedative?”

“You know I don’t do drugs.”

“Then he must not have shown.”

“He came, I cut his hair, my father stopped by to make me feel like crap, and that was it.”

“And?”

Rebecca sucked in her stomach and reconsidered her reflection. Better. “What more do you want to hear?”

“I want to hear about this supposed truce. Is it real?”

“Who knows? If you ask me, the only thing that’s changed is Josh’s haircut.”

Covering the phone, Delaney spoke to someone in the background, probably her husband. When she came back on, she said, “Well, you won’t even remember Josh Hill in a few weeks. You and Buddy will be getting married and moving on to bigger and better things.”

“Um, not exactly…Just a sec.” Rebecca held the phone away from her ear long enough to pull a tight-fitting sweater over her head. It was black, too, with three-quarter-length sleeves, and hit her midriff in just the right place to make the most of her low-riding pants. Not bad, she thought. “Actually I won’t be getting married in a few weeks,” she said, returning to the conversation.