Shotgun Vows

They went around the table again. Burch had two kings and two threes—“two pair,” someone said. When it was her turn, she flipped over all her cards and was excited when she saw three aces. All the men groaned.

She looked at Dawson. “Is this good?”

“Yeah. You win,” he said. “All the money is yours.”

“Really?” This was very exciting. No wonder they did it once a week. She scooped up the bills and coins from the center of the table and returned the money she’d borrowed from Dawson. “Who deals next?” she asked.

Ethan picked up the cards and dealt them. The game moved a bit faster, until Dawson had to explain to her again what constituted a hand and what beat what. There was so much groaning in the room, it sounded like a haunted house on Halloween. And when she won the second round, she felt guilty, and tried not to take the pot. But they insisted, albeit angrily. “Beginner’s luck,” one of them grumbled.

“Now who deals?” she asked.

Bobby Lee yawned. “It’s gettin’ pretty late.”

Mattie glanced at the clock. It was only nine-fifteen.

Burch stood up. “I gotta get goin’. See y’all later.” Faster than you could say “lickety-split,” he was gone.

Ethan yawned again and said, “I have to be up early.”

“Me, too,” Bobby Lee said.

Mattie was confused, a state of mind that was becoming increasingly familiar to her the more time she spent in the company of men who were not her brothers. From all she’d heard, these games went on until the wee hours. This seemed very early to break up. And she had just been getting the hang of it. Was Dawson right about the guys feeling that she was bad luck? Or were they miffed because she had all the good luck? Poor sports! She almost blurted that out, but decided against it.

“Guess we’d better go and let these guys get some shut-eye,” Dawson said. He curved his hand around her arm and pulled her to a standing position with him.

She noticed that Ethan didn’t waste any time opening the door. The chill wind blew in, but it wasn’t as cold as the room had been when she’d raked in the last pot. Still, she figured she could be gracious and not let on that she knew they were upset because she’d won. Having so many brothers had taught her a lot about male pride.

“You’re right. I have to get up early, too,” she said, making her way to the door. “I almost forgot. Aunt Lily asked me to supervise some schoolchildren who are coming to the ranch tomorrow. She suggested that I pick someone to help me with them. How about it, Ethan?” she asked, looking up at him. He was tall and lanky. Not unattractive, but not muscular like Dawson….

She wondered where that thought had come from. It was followed quickly by a fervent hope that this sudden hang-up she’d developed of comparing all men to Dawson Prescott was something she’d get over soon.

“Sure, Mattie,” Ethan said. “I’ll give you a hand. If Mrs. Fortune wants me to,” he answered.

“Good,” she said. “I’ll see you in the corral around nine-thirty.” She thought Dawson mumbled something. “What did you say?”

“I said, let’s go and let these guys get some sleep.” Dawson took her elbow none too gently and guided her off the porch.

They started walking toward the big house. Mattie was vaguely disturbed at the abrupt way the evening had ended. Since Dawson had witnessed everything, she decided to risk asking him. “Did it seem to you that the guys were bad sports?”

In the moonlight, she read the wry look he gave her. “Why do you say that?”

“Because I’ve been around long enough to see them drag to work after a late night of poker. They don’t let an early-morning wake-up call stop them—if they’re winning. Do you think they were upset because I had some beginner’s luck?”

He shook his head. “Nope. It’s the female thing.”

She stared at him. “Define ‘female thing.’”

“Bad luck to play cards with a girl.”

“Then why deal me in at all? Or why mention the game in front of me?”

He shrugged. “You’re the boss’s niece. They couldn’t very well tell you to go home.”

“I just wish they’d been honest.”

Their shoulders happened to brush at that moment and she felt him flinch—or abruptly pull away from the contact. She wasn’t sure which. Before she could puzzle it out, they arrived at her front door.

This was the first time a man had ever escorted her home. That thought produced a nervous sort of feeling in the pit of her stomach. But this was Dawson.

“If I’m bad luck, then you won’t want to help me with the kids tomorrow.”

“I’ll risk it,” he said. “An honorable man doesn’t go back on a promise.”

“Suit yourself,” she said and went inside.

She leaned against the door and thought again about how Dawson reminded her of dynamite. The more time she spent in his company, the closer the match got to her fuse.

Three

The next morning, Dawson leaned against the corral fence and watched Mattie walk toward him, up the slight hill, from the house. She was surrounded by four kids—a girl and three boys. He wondered what the sassy Aussie would say when he told her Ethan wouldn’t be joining them. After clearing it with Lily Fortune, he had volunteered his services so that the young cowboy could better use his time on another chore. Oddly enough, he had derived great satisfaction from taking Ethan out of the equation, but wasn’t exactly sure why.

Ditto on the fact that he was anticipating Mattie’s explosive reaction to the news. That’s what a woman did when her plans didn’t pan out. He’d learned that the hard way. He’d been raised by a mother who’d been dumped for a younger woman, so bad news had been abundant. His mother had become increasingly depressed and bitter—a natural reaction when the man she loved had married an adolescent.

It made him determined not to use any woman and then throw her away. It had also taught him skills to deal with an unhappy female. So he had no qualms about giving Mattie the bad news about Ethan. But before he fired the first salvo for World War III, he enjoyed the sway of her hips and her graceful long-legged stride. He noticed the sparkle in her gray eyes and heard her merry laughter after she bent her head and listened to one of the boys. Dawson remembered Griff saying that she’d never met a stranger. He could see the evidence for himself. She’d just met these kids, and she had them eating out of her hand.

He knew that wouldn’t be happening if she didn’t like kids. And he recalled the other thing Griff had warned him about: she wanted to have a baby. Soon. No matter how ticked she was that he’d canceled out Ethan, it couldn’t be as bad as her brother’s reaction if she ran away with the wet-behind-the-ears cowboy.

Mattie spotted him and stumbled slightly. Then the group continued on until she and her cowboy wannabes stood in a semicircle around him. The kids gave him odd looks, as if they’d been warned about him. She gave him an appraising glance. Saucy. The word described perfectly the way she was eyeing him. And it made him feel like he was a prize quarter horse ready to be put to stud.

Two could play that game. “Something wrong, your ladyship?” he asked, lifting one eyebrow.

“You tell me. Who are you and what have you done with Dawson Prescott?”

He looked down at his scuffed brown boots, worn jeans, and long-sleeved, white cotton shirt. “What’s wrong?”

“For starters, you’re not wearing your uniform. Where’s the white dress shirt, pin-striped suit, red power tie, and loafers with tassels?”

“First of all, I draw the line at loafers with a tassel. Too froufrou. As for the rest, it’s hanging in the closet at home in Kingston Estates.”

“Ah.” She nodded. “The large planned community in San Antonio for the fabulously wealthy.”

“You make it sound like a communicable disease.”

“If only it were,” she sighed.

He glanced down at his boots. “I repeat, is there something wrong?”

“You just look different this way.”