Luke's Would-Be Bride

During a momentary lull, Luke said, “Now, Isabell, we went over this last month when I looked in on Sylvester. How is that old mouser, anyway?”

Thankfully, nobody sputtered that the only thing wrong with that cat was old age, and Isabell nodded stiffly before sitting back down. Luke took advantage of the opportunity to continue.

“Twenty years ago there were more than seven hundred people living in the village of Jasper Gulch and outlying areas. Today the number barely reaches five hundred.”

“We lose more of our women every year,” Doc Masey added. “Not one girl in this year’s graduating class is planning to stay in Jasper Gulch come fall. There are already sixty-two bachelors, and it’s only going to get worse. We need more women in this town if we want it to survive for future generations.”

Wyatt’s grandfather, Cletus McCully, snapped his suspenders and said, “We need more women if there are going to be future generations.”

A couple of his old cronies snickered into their hands, and Isabell’s face turned red all the way to the roots of her springy gray hair. The few people who were opposed to the idea of bringing strangers into their quiet town continued to bicker with everyone else. Luke exchanged a look with Clayt and Wyatt, then slowly sank back into his folding chair.

He called for order. Then called again. The third try was the charm, or at least as close to it as he’d likely see that night, because with it, the men and women of Jasper Gulch lowered their grumbling to a dull roar.

Very little air was moving through the open windows at his back, and the native bachelors were getting restless. Not that it wasn’t perfectly understandable. The drought was the worst they’d seen in twenty-two years. Jasper Gulch needed a nice long rain and several dozen single women.

Luke only needed one.

He doubted that anybody had noticed anything different about him lately. His hair was still brown, his eyes were still gray, his frame the same lanky six foot two it had been since his seventeenth birthday. Aside from a few squint lines around his eyes, he didn’t look much different from the way he had ten years ago when he was twenty-five. But it wasn’t his appearance that was changing. It was as if a need had been sparked in the very center of him. It was the need for a woman, a special woman. He’d almost given up any hope of finding her. Now the possibilities seemed limitless.

The meeting progressed in a haphazard fashion. He, Wyatt, Clayt and old Doc Masey did their best to keep things under control, but it wasn’t easy. The room grew hotter by the minute, and so did everyone’s tempers.

“Do you have any idea how long it’s been since somebody put a quarter in the jukebox in my bar?” DoraLee Sullivan complained.

“We might play poker at the Crazy Horse every chance we get,” one of DoraLee’s regulars grumbled, “but we draw the line at dancin’ with each other. No sirree, Bob.”

“See?” DoraLee insisted. “You boys have gotta do something to bring other women to Jasper Gulch.”

“We’re trying, but we all have to be patient,” Clayt declared.

Jason Tucker, who worked for Clayt on the Carson family ranch just outside of town, sprang to his feet. “Patient? You expect us to be patient? Do you know how long it’s been since one of us has had a date?”

Wyatt, the county sheriff, rubbed his chin and said, “Let’s see. What year is this?”

Everyone chuckled, and Luke breathed his first easy breath since opening the meeting half an hour ago. “Clayt’s right,” he declared. “We all have to be patient. That advertisement’s working. New people are arriving every week. We all know we need new blood in our town. We also need plumbers and electricians and builders and bankers and just about everything else there is.”

“The only things we don’t need are more bachelors,” Boomer Brown grumbled.

Luke opened his mouth to speak. “The single women will come. In fact…”

Cletus McCully cut in before he could finish. “I heard that one of those married couples you mentioned is planning to open a plumbing shop, and one of the other families has a daughter who wants to be a doctor someday, which brings me to the point I wanna make—”

“Nobody takes longer to make a point than you,” Karl Hanson complained.

“You can say that again,” someone else agreed.

“Do you boys wanna deface my character or do you wanna hear my idea?”

“Oh, all right,” Karl said. “Let’s hear what you have to say. But get on with it. It’s hotter than blazes in here.”

Grinning like the proverbial Cheshire cat, wrinkled though he might be, Cletus said, “I make a motion that we throw out the welcome mat to the newcomers of Jasper Gulch.”

“The welcome mat?” Luke asked.

“That’s right. The welcome mat. I’m thinking a town picnic would be in order here. We could even set up a dance floor and hire a country-western band.”

“A dance floor!” one of the many bachelors groused.

“Cletus, are you crazy?”

“Who in the world are we gonna dance with? Married women?”

“See what I mean?” Isabell sputtered. “Only ill will come of this, I tell you.”

Just when Luke was sure he’d never gain control of the meeting again, the door leading to the diner opened. A low murmur went through the crowd as Wyatt’s younger sister, Mel McCully walked in. As if on cue, everyone went perfectly still.

Mel wasn’t alone.

Two women, one with dark hair, the other with red, slowly made their way to the center of the room.

“Well, looky here,” Jason declared, looking for all the world like a yearling who’d seen his first female. “Women.”

“Pretty ones, too.”

“I’ll be gol-darned.”

Luke had never seen so many cowboy hats pushed higher off so many foreheads in so short a time. Mel stayed where she was near the back of the room, but the other two women slowly zigzagged toward the front.

“I do believe our prayers are being answered,” Karl Hanson said.

Luke wondered how long Karl could hold his breath and suck in his belly at the same time. The dark-haired woman in front cast a covert glance all around and favored them all with a smile. The second woman turned her head, the overhead bulbs creating golden-red highlights in her hair. Luke’s own stomach muscles tightened, but for an entirely different reason. His eyes narrowed, and a slow heat that had nothing to do with the sweltering temperatures shimmered through him.

He leaned back in his chair. And waited. For what, he wasn’t sure. Maybe for the beating rhythm of his heart to return to normal. Or maybe to see if Jillian Daniels felt the same spark of attraction he did.

With a wink that turned young Jason Tucker’s face three shades of red, the dark-haired woman said, “I’m Lisa Markman, and this is my friend, Jillian Daniels. We just moved into town this morning, and we were hoping you wouldn’t mind answering a few questions.”

“You can ask us anything, anything at all,” Karl declared.

All the men chuckled, all except Luke. Lisa was talking about the family clothing store she planned to open, but Luke hardly heard. He was too busy watching Jillian. She’d changed her clothes since this morning. Now the skirt she wore was one of those trendy wraparound numbers he’d seen on TV—hip-hugging, calf-skimming, a fantasy in the making. He wasn’t sure what it was made of, but the color was a deep, deep green. Her blouse was simple in design, sleeveless, scoop-necked and a rich shade of gold.

The other woman held up a stack of flyers and said, “I’ve done a lot of research since I saw your advertisement in the Madison papers, and I’ve listed some of the clothing I thought you might want me to stock. I’m going to start with the basics for now and expand as time goes on. I’ve rented the vacant store next door, and I’ve already talked to suppliers and wholesalers. If I pick up the merchandise myself, I should be in business in a week. That’s where all of you come in. If you’d fill out one of these questionnaires and spread the word to your friends and neighbors, I’d really appreciate it.”

Luke thought about the way Jillian had hesitated that morning when he’d asked if she had come about the ad. He’d been referring to his help wanted ad, but she’d obviously thought he’d meant the advertisement luring women to their corner of South Dakota.

She’d really only come in to tell him his lights were on. And yet she’d taken the job. Under the circumstances he wouldn’t have blamed her if she’d taken one look at his ramshackle office and hightailed it out of there. But damn, he was glad she hadn’t.

“What do you want us to do with the questionnaires when we’re through?” Boomer asked.

Lisa answered, “You can either hand them to me tonight or bring them to the store. Or, if you’d rather, you can drop them in the mail. Our post office box is number 113. I always thought thirteen was unlucky, but Jillian has assured me that the way the moon and planets are aligned right now, it’s very lucky, indeed.”