Weddings Do Come True

But Danny and Doreen were happy she was staying, sitting at the table telling her the one hundred and one things they had to show her.

Gumpy came and helped himself to a refill of coffee. “Thanks for breakfast.” He glanced out the window, just in time to see Ethan send another ice ball sailing. “He’ll come around.”

“It’s only for two weeks.”

She put dishes in the sink and contemplated her timing. Two weeks. She could go home, cancel the wedding in plenty of time and do her best to put her life back together.

What was left of it.

If she went back, now, today, she could salvage something. It was a halfhearted thought. No, she’d said she would stay. She was needed here, whether the grump marching down the road wanted to admit he needed her or not.

And as for the grump... She was determined not to think about the grump. Or the amazing way she felt when he was in the room—not like an experienced trial lawyer, but like a high school senior with a crush on the school heartthrob. She’d nearly dropped his omelette right on his lap when his hand had inadvertently touched hers as she’d set it down in front of him.

If she stayed here too long, she might have to look at the deep throbbing within her that had started the very moment she had seen the cowboy snoozing on the couch. It was something between a pain and an ache. But nothing could happen in two weeks.

Meanwhile, she could help him out by giving him refuge from the niece and nephew who had so obviously wrapped that man of steel around their teeny-tiny pinkies. And he could help her out by giving her refuge from her life, just long enough for her to sort out what fierce instinct had broken through all her reserve and all her sense of responsibility and obligation, and made her get on that plane.

“Are we making cookies now?” Doreen demanded.

“Dishes first. Pull over some chairs, and you can both help me with them.”

“Really?” they asked, wide-eyed.

Gumpy harrumphed with pleasure. “See you at lunch,” he said, and then offered, “Something with meat in it might make him feel better.”

She smiled. “Not according to the Heart Foundation, but I’ll keep that in mind.”

Danny and Doreen were still standing on chairs, meticulously wiping every drop of moisture off the plates, when Ethan came back in. Lacey had begun to do an inventory of supplies he had in his cupboards, making a list of items that would need to be picked up if she was going to do this job properly.

He’d hired her and she planned to make sure he got his money’s worth. Plus, there was the little matter of proving to him that she was capable of a little more than matching her fingernail polish to the day’s outfit.

He gave his boots a wipe at the door, then came into the kitchen with them on.

“That’s okay, I haven’t washed it yet,” she said, looking out at him from behind an open cupboard door.

He scowled at her, the scowl of a man who was going to wear his boots in his house if he damn well pleased.

“Unca,” Doreen said, and held up her plate for inspection. “Look-it. Me and Danny are helping.”

He looked surprised, but he gave his niece’s glossy hair a little ruffle with a big, leather-gloved hand. “That’s great, sweetheart.”

He turned away before he saw the beam of pure pleasure on the little girl’s face. He opened the fridge, pulling a glove off with his teeth.

He retrieved a bottle of white liquid, and took off his other glove, stuffing them both in the back pocket of his jeans.

Which was the only reason she even noticed the rear end of his jeans, she told herself. She looked for long enough to know jeans had been made for men built like him.

She watched as he slipped a huge syringe from his front shirt pocket, took the cap off with his teeth, shook the bottle, turned it upside down and inserted the needle, then pulled back the plunger.

“I hope that isn’t for one of us,” she kidded, amazed by his steady confidence with the needle and the bottle. From plumber to doctor in the blink of an eye.

He cast her a look. “Well, ma’am, I thought I heard you sneeze this morning.” His face remained absolutely deadpan, but she saw the faintest glimmer of laughter in his eyes.

It changed him in the most remarkable way. For an astounding moment she felt she saw who he really was. A man with incredible depth, and a great capacity for life and laughter.

She ducked her head back into the cupboard, studying soup labels as if her life depended on it, listening to the kids hoot with delight.

“Lacey’s getting a needle. Lacey’s getting a needle.”

“No, Lacey is not!” she said from behind the cupboard door.

She contemplated the way he had said “ma’am.” Had he intended for it to come off his lips so slow and sexy, or was that just the cowboy way of saying things?

Thank God that smile had only flicketed for a moment in his eyes, and had not touched his lips. If he ever smiled at her, she had the awful feeling she might be lost. Forever.

She slammed the cupboard door shut, jotted with furious efficiency on her growing grocery list and turned swiftly from him, not daring to look his way again. She went across the kitchen and opened the lid of the chest freezer, trying to concentrate on the contents and what they needed.

“Is Lacey getting a needle?” Danny demanded.

“No,” Ethan said, putting the bottle back and closing the fridge door. “One of the cows is sick.”

“Which one?” Doreen asked.

“I call her 131. I don’t think you know her.”

Shoving things around in the freezer until her fingers felt as if they might fall off, Lacy marveled at the patience in Ethan’s deep voice.

“Is she brown?” Danny asked.

“Umm-hmm. Brown and white.”

When Lacey had looked out the window, she noticed all the cattle were brown and white. Every single one of them.

“Is she big?” Doreen asked.

“Um-hmm.”

They had all been big, too.

“Is she fat?” Danny asked.

“Just right.”

“Is she going to die?” Doreen asked.

“Not if I can help it.”

“Will she cry when you give her that great big needle?”