Luke's Would-Be Bride

Luke watched as the women separated and began passing out flyers. He didn’t know much about the alignment of the moon and planets, but there must have been something to this luck thing, because today felt like his lucky day.

Jillian worked her way around the crooked rows of chairs, handing a flyer to each man she passed. Within minutes she reached the front of the room where she held out a sheet of paper to Doc Masey and smiled at his friendly greeting. Clayt was next. And then Wyatt.

The only man left was Luke.

He took a deep breath. And waited. With her next step he could hear the soft rustle of her skirt. A rousing dose of anticipation played along his spine. She glanced at the stack of flyers in her hand and then straight into his eyes.

There was an instant parting of her lips and a slight lift of her eyebrows. She hesitated for a moment, then smiled at him the way she had earlier. Now he understood the knowing glint in her eyes. Holding up an old newspaper containing the town’s advertisement for women, he asked, “Why didn’t you tell me you were here about this ad?”

Her lips curved upward the tiniest bit. In a voice barely loud enough to hear, she said, “I knew you’d figure it out. Do you still need me?”

“You have no idea how much.”

Jillian Daniels couldn’t feel her feet. That’s how far her head was in the clouds. For a moment she was afraid that the delicate thread that seemed to have formed between her gaze and Luke Carson’s was the only thing keeping her from floating completely away.

The man was more sure of himself and his masculine appeal than she would have liked, but she could see why. He was tall, even sitting down. He looked more like a cowboy than the town vet. His jeans and shirt were faded, his shoulders broad, his skin tan. His hair was dark brown and in need of a trim. She wasn’t sure if that was what gave him that roguish quality, or if it was the way he grasped the black hat resting on his knee.

There was something about him that seemed familiar. She’d noticed it that morning. Studying his face feature by feature, she couldn’t recall having ever met him. And yet the sense of familiarity remained.

She swallowed with difficulty, then somehow managed to turn around again, finally breaking eye contact. It took her to the count of ten to get her breathing under control. It took even longer to reel in her thoughts. Fanning herself with the leftover flyers, she tried to put her thoughts in order, but that wasn’t easy. Luke Carson was not an easy man to put out of her mind.

Lisa was talking on the other side of the room, and Jillian did her best to follow along. After all, helping Lisa get settled was what she was here to do.

“Does everyone have a questionnaire?” Lisa asked.

Several men held up their light blue sheets of paper. The rest all made agreeable sounds of one sort or another.

“Do you have any questions?” Lisa asked.

“I have one,” a man nearly hidden in the very back of the room called. “Why isn’t there any place on this form for my phone number?”

“Forget about your phone number, Karl,” the stocky man sitting next to him said. “I’d rather know their telephone numbers. You gals are single, aren’t you?”

Lisa’s laugh was deep and throaty. Jillian had a feeling that more than one of these men would hear it in his dreams tonight. Waggling one finger, Lisa said, “I was sure your ad said you Jasper Gents were shy.”

“Shy but willing,” someone called.

“Now, are you gonna answer our question?”

Jillian met Lisa’s gaze over the tops of more than a dozen cowboy hats. They shared a shrug and a mild shake of their heads before Lisa said, “Yes, it just so happens that Jillian and I are both as single as a long-stemmed rose. Now, we don’t want to keep you from your meeting, so we’ll be going. It was nice meeting all of you. Stop in at the store and see us real soon, ya hear?”

“Oh, we’ll be there.”

“You can count on it.”

“You got that right.”

“Yes sirree, Bob.”

Watching Jillian and Lisa leave, Luke couldn’t help noticing how well the two women communicated with just a look or a gesture. He wondered how long they’d been friends and had to fight the almost overwhelming desire to follow them out the door. Holding on to his composure, he tipped his chair back and hitched one boot over the opposite knee, calculating his next move.

“Cletus McCully, you old dog,” Karl declared. “You were right, absolutely right.”

“That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you.”

“Lisa and Jillian,” someone said reverently. “Those are fine names, don’tcha think?”

“I wouldn’t care if their names were Myrnella and Peerpont. They’re fine looking,” someone else declared.

“My mother’s new furniture is fine looking. Lisa and Jillian are gorgeous,” Jason insisted.

“And single.”

“Yeah, single.”

The front legs of Luke’s chair met the floor with a definite click.

“How old would you say they are?” Jason asked.

“Who cares?”

“Yeah, who cares.”

“Now about this welcome mat Cletus mentioned,” Doc Masey began.

“A town picnic is a great idea,” Karl said.

“With dancing?” Jason asked.

“Yep.”

“With real live women and everything?”

“Yep.”

“I second Cletus’s motion!” Jason exclaimed.

“I third it.”

“I fourth it.”

“Everyone in favor, say aye!” Jason shouted.

The room echoed with a chorus of ayes. Before Luke, who was supposed to be running the meeting, could ask for any nays, Cletus said, “It looks like we’re going to have us a town picnic.”

A cheer went around the room. Cletus stood up and said, “Wyatt? You, Clayt and Luke can work out the details, can’t you?”

“The details?” Wyatt croaked.