How was a girl supposed to marry and have babies when the cowboys of Mule Hollow wouldn’t ask her out?

Except for him, Dan Dawson…a notorious flirt who asked everyone out.

“You know, Ashby, I could help you. I mean, I could help you find a husband.”

She almost tripped. “Excuse me?” Could this day get any worse?

“I know what your problem is.” He shrugged.

That brought her up short. “My problem?” she gritted through clenched teeth.

He grinned, then winked. Dan Dawson and winking was a lethal combination. Ashby might be immune to Dan’s shallow charm, but she wasn’t dead.

“Ash, you know what I’m talking about—you keep refusing to go out with me.”

“I’m looking for a man who wants to get married. We both know that isn’t you.”

DEBRA CLOPTON

was a 2004 Golden Heart finalist in the inspirational category, a 2006 Inspirational Readers’ Choice award winner, a 2007 Golden Quill award winner and a finalist in the 2007 American Christian Fiction Writers Book of the Year. She praises the Lord each time someone votes for one of her books, and takes it as an affirmation that she is exactly where God wants her to be.

Debra is a hopeless romantic and loves to create stories with lively heroines and the strong heroes who fall in love with them. But most importantly, she loves showing her characters living their faith and seeking God’s will in their lives one day at a time. Her goal is to give her readers an entertaining story that will make them smile, hopefully laugh and always feel God’s goodness as they read her books. She has found the perfect home for her stories writing for Love Inspired and still has to pinch herself just to see if she really is awake and living her dream.

When she isn’t writing Debra enjoys taking road trips, reading and spending time with her two sons, Chase and Kris. She loves hearing from readers and can be reached through her Web site, debraclopton.com, or at P.O. Box 1125, Madisonville, Texas 77864.

Her Baby Dreams
Debra Clopton

What does the Lord require of you? To act justly

and to love mercy and to walk humbly with your

God.

—Micah 6:8

To Heidi Clopton my very first and dearly loved

daughter-in-law. You are a jewel!

Special thanks and acknowledgments go to editorial assistant Elizabeth Mazer for all you do in the process of getting my books ready for the readers; to my agent Joyce Hart, who is always there for me; to all those who work behind the scenes at Steeple Hill—from artwork to shipping and everything in between, your efforts are greatly appreciated. Most important, special thanks to my gifted editor Krista Stroever for your honesty, tireless hard work and inspiration.

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter One

“Come on, Ash, just climb up here and we’ll be on our way.” Dan Dawson patted the handlebars and grinned at her with that mesmerizing smile of his, and expected that to be enough.

Ashby Templeton stared across the now dusty bicycle at the too-handsome-for-his-own-good cowboy, and wondered what terrible, horrible deed she’d done to deserve this kind of punishment.

The cowboy fully expected that just because he asked with a smile, she would comply!

Arms crossed, she held her ground. Despite the power of that smile, she was not going to climb up there to teeter precariously as he pedaled the bike. It had nothing to do with being difficult. It had to do with ability. She just couldn’t do it.

Far too used to getting his own way with those midnight-blue eyes, Dan batted them once more while patting the bars again. “We’re losing, Ash. Why did you sign up for this race if you weren’t going to cooperate?”

She wasn’t ready to answer that, either. This left her with a blank stare as her only defense against the cocky slant of his smile. Dangerous stuff for anyone to witness. Still, she held her ground.

“It’s supposed to be a fun race, done as a team,” he continued. “That means one of us has to ride and one of us has to pedal. C’mon, hop on now and we can still make a decent showing. Haven’t you ever seen Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid?”

Feeling the sting of humiliation, Ashby stalked away from him down the country road, wishing with all her might that she’d had a normal upbringing. This! This fiasco was her blue-blooded mother’s fault.

Ashby could not tell Dan Dawson that in her world, knowing how to host a dinner party was considered “essential” information. Riding a bike was something the gardening crew did to get to work. She had to say something, though. She spun toward him, met his gaze and knew she would rather limp barefoot and bleeding across that finish line than admit the truth.

A slight exaggeration, but still, she could not tell him. He arched a brow, waiting for her reply. More humiliation tangled inside her.

“If we’re going to finish at all, then we’d better stop talking and get moving,” she huffed. “I told you in town that I was going to walk. Walking together is a team effort, too.” She started walking again.

Fifteen feet farther on, hearing no sound behind her, Ashby could only assume he was standing in the middle of the road watching her, waiting for her to give in.

“This is just ridiculous,” he muttered at last, and rode up beside her within seconds. “What is the big deal? The other gals hopped up on those handlebars like good sports. That’s why when Applegate shot the starting gun, they tore out of there like good competitors do, and left us in their dust. That’s why everyone was laughing when you headed out at a fast trot behind them.”

“I did not trot.” She felt guilty about all that, but really, there was no need to get ugly. It wasn’t her fault that this truly was all she could do. How could she tell him that she couldn’t ride a bike? How could she admit that the very thought of climbing onto a bike flustered her so that she got this confounded vertigo? She glanced at him in her peripheral vision and picked up the pace. Trot, my foot!

He looped around ahead of her on the blacktop and came back toward her like a circling vulture.

“So why did you sign up?” He intercepted her gaze as he went by. “This was supposed to be a boy meets girl, girl meets the man of her dreams shindig. At least, that’s what I thought.”

“Man of her dreams—boy, they got that one wrong,” Ashby grumbled under her breath.

“What’s that?” He swooped around her, holding his legs out, his boot tips pointing straight up to the sky…. The cowboy was in a bike race wearing jeans, boots and a Stetson! And if she weren’t so put out by all of this, she’d say it was a little bit cute. Some of the other cowboys had forgone their standard uniform in favor of shorts. Their legs were as white as the silk wedding dress hanging in the window of her dress shop. Even so, they were probably far more comfortable than Dan, though he hadn’t even broken a sweat. Not so for her…It just wasn’t fair any way you looked at it.

She pulled a wayward strand of hair off her damp cheek and focused on what was really bothering her.

The vertigo.

“C’mon, Ash, spit it out. Why did you sign up?”

“I didn’t sign up,” she snapped, regretting it even as the words erupted from her lips.

“Ha! I was right.” He jerked the handlebars and again swooped back in her direction. “When the ladies announced they were adding this couples’ bike race to the spring festival, I told all the boys there was no way you’d be signing up for it. Of course, nobody disagreed with me.”

“What?” It was Ashby’s turn to twirl around to stare at him as he made the loop behind her. The world spun drunkenly, but she took a deep breath and let it settle down, while he continued as if he hadn’t noticed that her voice dripped with indignation.

“Yup. Imagine our surprise when you walked out there and got in the lineup.”

A knot formed in the pit of her stomach at Dan’s disheartening revelation. The cowboys hadn’t thought she would participate. They’d all automatically assumed she wouldn’t.

How could they presume such a thing? She’d moved to Mule Hollow almost a year ago specifically to find a husband. True, it wasn’t as if she was shouting it to the treetops. But this was a town that had advertised for wives for all the bachelors, so of course she’d expected that the cowboys knew any single girl moving in had hopes of marrying.

She swallowed, fighting to keep her expression neutral. She didn’t want Dan Dawson to have the satisfaction of knowing how deeply that remark hurt. There was absolutely no one who could want a baby more than she did. Want a warm, nurturing, lovable family. A family that would go on picnics together, that wouldn’t be afraid to get down in the grass and roll around if the notion struck. A family who would learn to ride bikes together…every last one of them. Of course, before she could ride bikes with her children, she was going to have to learn herself.

Ashby breathed through her nose and tried to regain her control. But it was hard, when all she could think about was that she was almost thirty years old. Thirty. That meant her biological clock was ticking on an accelerated timetable, and things were not looking good for the family she wanted so much.

How was a girl supposed to marry and have babies when the cowboys of Mule Hollow wouldn’t ask her out?

Except for him, Dan Dawson…a notorious flirt who asked everyone out. Her “friends” were definitely playing mud ball here. What could have possessed them to partner her up with him? It just didn’t make sense. They knew how much she wanted to settle down.

Sweat ran down her face and she pushed more hair off her sticky skin. Her mood deteriorated further as she watched Dan glide by again.

He made it look so easy.

Riding a bike, that is. As he got a little way ahead of her he let go and effortlessly pedaled down the yellow stripe, no hands.

Ashby walked faster. She would have jogged a little, except—well, there was that dizziness and the blister growing on her heel. And, well, she’d never been much of an athlete. Her mother hadn’t encouraged it when Ashby was growing up. She’d spent most of her days in frilly pastel dresses, sitting primly at one endless function after another. Ashby had learned to despise her blue blood long before she even knew what it was. She had actually forgotten until today that there had been a time when she’d really wanted to learn to ride a bicycle.

Dan circled back, and a picture of her as a child holding her nanny’s hand in Golden Gate Park watching other kids riding by flashed through her memory. She in her frills and patent leather Mary Janes.

“You know, Ashby, I could help you.”

She blinked hard and focused on the red ribbon off in the distance, signaling the route back toward town and the finish line of this five-mile nightmare.

“I’m almost afraid to ask what you mean,” she said. How long had they been out here? She checked her watch—just over an hour! It felt like days.

“I mean, I could help you find a husband.”

She almost tripped. “Excuse me?” Could this day get any worse?

“Hey, I’m good at reading people. I can usually tell what someone needs.”

She gave him the evil eye, clamping her mouth firmly shut. Why couldn’t a rabbit hole open up right then and there?

He shrugged. “I know what your problem is.”

That brought her up short. “My problem?” she said through gritted teeth.

He grinned, then winked.

Dan Dawson and winking was a lethal combination. He already looked better than any man alive had a right to. Add a wink…Ashby might be immune to Dan’s shallow charm, but she wasn’t dead.

She sucked in a couple of deep breaths as he pedaled slowly beside her.

“Ash, you know what I’m talking about. I have been trying to help you out for a year now. But how am I going to do that if you keep refusing to go out with me? You should give me points for persistence.”

“Hardly. Besides, how is going out with you supposed to help me? I’m looking for a man who wants to get married.” Going out with you would be a complete waste of time I don’t have, she almost said, but it sounded too harsh. Instead, she took a more diplomatic approach. “We both know that isn’t you.”

“But it would be fun.”

“And that is my point,” she huffed, dragging to a halt. “Why would I want to go out with you just to have fun?”

He stopped riding. “See, that right there. That is exactly what I’m talking about.”

She did not get this man.

“You need to loosen up, Ash. Live a little! You are never going to get a date if you don’t. Even a lonesome cowboy isn’t desperate enough to marry a gal so knotted up she can’t have a good time.”

“I…” Ashby swallowed hard, forcing herself to hold his gaze. “I can have a good time.”

He patted the handlebars, challenge in his eyes. “Show me.”

“No.” She refused to be goaded into trying something she would regret. Anyway, when she fell flat on her face, it would only add lack of balance to her apparently well-documented list of shortcomings.

No way. She resumed walking. Stalking, actually. Stalking wasn’t good. It made her far more aware of how much her feet were killing her. She was having to fight the urge to limp, and was afraid to think about the size of the blister that was building….

To her surprise, Dan hopped off the bike and started walking beside her, pushing it between them. “You are a puzzle, Ashby Templeton. Yes, indeedy, a real jigsaw.”

Ashby lifted her chin and didn’t take the bait.

“Does it get lonesome up there?”

She cut her eyes toward him. “Up where?”

“On that high horse you ride.”

“I don’t ri—” She glared at him.

“No use denying it.” He reached across the bike and pulled a piece of wet hair off her cheek.

To Ashby’s horror, her pulse went ballistic. She stepped away from him and the bad choices he represented. Their rejections because she wasn’t “good enough” still stung, but she had a major weakness for bad choices. Brad. Carlton. Steven…She’d been such a fool. Wasted so many years. But no more. “Look,” she said, glaring at Dan. “I have no problem with you hopping on that bike and riding off into the sunset. I’d welcome it, actually.” Yes, she would.

“Nope, wouldn’t be right. If you’re going to insist on walking, then I walk, too.”

Ashby dug deep for clarity. Focused on her friends. Friends who had better run the other way when they saw her coming. She might have been brought up to be a lady: calm, cool and collected—but even a lady had her breaking point.

Chapter Two

Dan had never met a more bullheaded woman. Ashby beat the competition hands down.

He slid her a glance. It was obvious her feet were killing her. Her pace had slowed over time, and when she thought he wasn’t watching, she was limping on her right foot. Crazy woman.

So get on the bike already and let him do the work. What, he wanted to shout out, was the big deal?

He took a deep breath. The woman had a way of getting under his skin, and had from the first day they’d met. He could count on his left thumb the number of women who’d ever turned him down for a date. That woman was limping stubbornly beside him right now.

“Look, I know your feet are killing you.”

She scorched him with a glare that warmed his blood. Yanking the bike to a halt, he watched her increase the distance between them. Yes, sir, there she went with her perfectly blunt-cut hair swinging and swaying in perfect time with each step she took. Everything about her was perfect.

Which was precisely her problem. She was just too perfect.

Still, did she honestly think she was too good to ride on the handlebars of his bike? When he’d signed up, he’d been expecting to draw some high-spirited gal as a partner, and spend a pleasant afternoon on this little escapade. Boy, was the laugh on him.

Could Ashby not see the potential in the whole game?

Standing in the center of the blacktop, exactly halfway along the course, he watched her struggle.

It just didn’t make sense. None of it. Not the limping, or the refusal to get on the stinkin’ bike. He ought to throw her over his shoulder and haul her into town kicking and screaming.

But that wasn’t his way. He hung his head and gathered his wits as he tried to come up with a new strategy. One that didn’t require losing his temper, since he didn’t allow himself to lose his temper, ever. Especially with a female. He refused to follow in his father’s footsteps.

But the woman was hurting herself for no good reason.

He shouldn’t be surprised. She’d been Miss Prim from the moment she’d first shown up in Mule Hollow. Beyond perfect, like an airbrushed cover girl. Most of the cowboys around town had taken one look at her and figured she was out of their league.

Dan, never one to be accused of a lack of confidence, thought he’d do her a favor and break the ice, so he’d asked her out. Maybe that way the other wranglers would see she was approachable.

He’d just been trying to help her out.

Imagine his surprise when the woman turned him down. One flat no, and she’d sashayed off, high heels clicking on the plank sidewalk.

Worst part of the scenario was that this had taken place in front of Sam’s Diner, with a herd of cowboys watching from the shadows inside.

The very idea that she’d refused to go out with him sparked a challenge in Dan. He’d decided right then and there he was going to get a date with her if it took a year. It was the principle of the whole thing.

Of course that was before he’d realized the ramifications of their interaction.

Little did she know it, but she’d sealed her fate that day. He felt bad about the fact that asking her out in public had backfired as it had. Dan had been kidded and teased no end, because of the brutal way she’d shot him down. He could feel sorry for himself, but a little teasing never hurt anyone. Then again, he suspected Ashby wouldn’t feel the same way. This woman was all business when it came to dating. It was all about finding a husband. She had no idea that because of that day in front of Sam’s, unless something drastic happened, she was done. When a cowpoke got turned down by a gal, the slang expressions in certain cowboy circles was no longer that he’d gotten axed, but that he’d been “Ashed.”

Of course, to the fellas it was harmless joking.

If her reaction just now was any indication, she’d explode if she knew what was being said. Dan really felt guilty about the whole thing. He’d thought asking her out in public would break the ice, not shut her down.

For a natural fixer like him, that was hard to deal with. As a boy whose earliest memories were of his mother getting smacked around by his dad, the need to fix situations had become embedded in his emotional makeup. His approach to problems was a talent he’d happened upon by accident a few years later, living in a women’s shelter with his mom. All the occupants of which, like his mother, needed their confidence rebuilt.

He’d learned that when he smiled, women smiled.

It had first happened when he tried to make his mom feel better, and saw that his smile brightened her expression. But when he’d seen his smile cause a young woman with a black eye and a swollen lip to smile back at him, it had dawned on even a kid of six that a little charm could transform someone’s life. If only for a moment.

Dan had been blessed with a playful heart, and God had given him an unlikely path at an early age that he had followed into adulthood.

Things with Ashby weren’t entirely the same. He couldn’t explain it completely, but he’d unknowingly given her a bad rep, and he felt a need to repair it.

He’d tried telling the guys she’d been having a bad day but it had not convinced them. So he figured if she’d go out with him, like he’d planned originally, that it would redeem her in the eyes of the other cowboys.

Not so easy. She wasn’t cooperating for some reason. Despite this, they’d actually developed a relationship based on banter over the months of continued rejection—banter he found entertaining most of the time. Not today.

This day was going to add to the urban legend she’d become, and try as he might, there was nothing he could do.

Shaking his head, he pushed the bike forward. She didn’t have a clue this race could very well seal her fate for good.

Unless she changed her ways, Ashby Templeton would die an old maid here in Mule Hollow, surrounded by cowboys diligently searching for wives. And she wouldn’t even know why.

On Friday, Ashby walked into Heavenly Inspirations Salon knowing that something had to change. She just didn’t know what.

Was she the reason that her love life was nonexistent?

She still hadn’t completely forgiven her friends for setting her up in that horrible bike race with Dan Dawson two weeks earlier. What had they been thinking? It would go down in history as one of the worst days of her life. Honestly, they knew he was a thorn in her side. That she’d refused to go out with him several times over the past year. So why had they done it?

She’d told herself they’d acted with the best of intentions, however misguided they might be. Still, as she entered the salon, she could only shake her head that they were scraping the bottom of the barrel in an attempt to help her find a husband. They must really think her hopeless.

Lacy had called a meeting of the local ladies to discuss plans to attract more visitors to town.

“Hi, everyone,” Ashby said, scanning the full room. The matchmakers were all present. Norma Sue Jenkins, robust and good-hearted, grinned at her from where she and redheaded Esther Mae Wilcox were shelling peas in the corner. Adela, their partner in matchmaking, was sitting at the manicure table watching Sheri, co-owner of the salon, paint her own toenails.

It had been Adela who’d come up with the idea to transform her small town into a place that would attract and hopefully hold a generation of younger women. They’d hatched their “wives wanted” ad campaign, and had been matchmaking ever since. Lacy had come along first and opened her salon; others soon followed. Still more came to the festivals and weekend events held to mingle with the cowboys and enjoy the imaginative, sometimes outrageous things this group came up with for them to participate in. The bike race being a case in point. Today, feeling dread like a lead ball in the pit of her stomach, Ashby wondered what new idea was brewing.

“Hey, Ashby, you do not look so good,” Lacy said, sitting in the shampoo chair, thumbing through a salon supply brochure.

“You sure don’t,” Sheri agreed.

The room grew still as everyone paused and stared. “I’m fine,” Ashby said, and sat down in the chair by the door.

“You’re not still upset about the spring festival, are you?” Esther Mae asked. “I just can’t believe you didn’t let that cutie-pie Dan give you a ride on the bike. That was the whole reason for the race. Why, me and my Hank used to love to ride around like that.”

“Leave her be, Esther Mae. She must have had her reasons,” Norma Sue said, adding dryly, “though not any I can figure out.”

So much for the support, Ashby thought as Norma Sue eyeballed her.

“On the other hand,” she added, “that was supposed to be an enjoyable adventure. I never in all of my days saw a person look as gloomy as you did when you limped into town.”

“She had her reasons,” Adela said, and Ashby gave her a grateful smile.

“I’m sorry I disappointed all of you. But the point is, I should never have been in that race. Especially paired up with Dan—”

“But the man is perfect for you.”

Ashby stared at Esther Mae, too mystified by the observation to even gather a coherent defense. Her blood pressure escalated just thinking about him.

Esther Mae snapped a handful of pea pods in half as if to punctuate her shocking statement. “You should ask Dan out on a date.”

Ashby’s mouth fell open and chuckles erupted from every corner of the room.

“First off,” she managed to reply, “I would never ask a man out on a date. And second, if I did, it certainly wouldn’t be Dan.”

“Well, I just don’t understand you,” Esther Mae said. “He is such a sweet boy.”

“He’s shallow and irresponsible,” Ashby countered. She wanted to tell them she’d had the misfortune of being drawn to his kind, but she couldn’t bring herself to shine that light on her failures. It wasn’t easy telling others that the man she’d trusted and believed in had betrayed her. It was humiliating enough. Besides, she’d learned her lesson well. Flirts couldn’t be trusted. Men like Steven…She pushed him from her thoughts. She didn’t like thinking back. Instead she focused on Dan. “He flirts with everyone. It’s as if he thinks that flashing that gorgeous smile of his will have women eating out of his hand!”

“It is a gorgeous smile,” Esther Mae said. “Swashbuckling pirate. That’s what I think when he flashes it.”

Ashby felt heat flush her cheeks at the picture Esther Mae painted. “Why in the world would all of you think he and I could be more than antagonists? I frustrate him and he irritates me.”

Esther Mae harrumphed. “You can’t tell me you aren’t attracted to him—”

“Esther Mae,” Norma Sue said. “Leave the girl be. She just doesn’t see it yet.”

Ashby could see fine. It appeared they were the ones in need of an eye exam…or maybe a head exam. “Dan Dawson is not husband material,” she said. This was the very group of ladies she’d hoped would help her find a mate, and it was very disconcerting to realize how off base they were. It was a discouraging blow to know that she was on her own, a situation that had never worked out before. She could not trust her own judgment when it came to men. She was afraid to. She’d believed in Steven and she never saw his betrayal coming. She needed help, but even God seemed to have decided to be silent on this issue.

“You don’t have the right impression of Dan,” Norma Sue said, drawing Ashby back from her morose thoughts.

“You certainly don’t,” Esther Mae agreed. “Exactly our reasoning behind tweaking the bike race so y’all would be together. Never underestimate the power of sparks.”

Lacy waved her hands. “Okay, enough picking on Ashby. We called you down here to get your opinion on my new idea. You know we have a rodeo coming up in a couple of weeks, and we’ve been racking our brains for a new fund-raiser. The proceeds are going into the emergency fund for the shelter.”

Ashby looked at them with leery eyes. “It doesn’t involve me, bikes or Dan Dawson, does it?”

“Only if you want it to.” Lacy chuckled. “It’s a pig scramble.”

Everyone but Ashby squealed in obvious delight at the very thought of such a thing.

She slowly scanned the room. “Could you elaborate on the term ‘pig scramble’? Remember, I’m not a country girl.”

Lacy’s expertly shagged hair did a jig with her laughter. “It’s where we grease up a small pig, let it loose in the arena, and whoever catches it wins the scramble. Doesn’t that sound like a hoot and a half?”

Oh, Ashby got it. They were playing a joke on her; that’s what this was all about. They were all waiting to see her reaction, before telling her their real idea. But a closer look at their expressions confirmed that they weren’t joking.

Mule Hollow was about to have itself a pig scramble.

The expectant expressions surrounding her gave Ashby a bad feeling. “Oh no! Don’t even think about conning me into this like you did that bike race,” she said. “The day I scramble for a pig will be the day pigs fly!”

That killed them. Lacy and Sheri especially got so tickled that Ashby felt insulted. “Why the hysterical laughter?” she asked.

Sheri fanned herself. “Don’t be silly. We knew you wouldn’t scramble for a pig. The very idea is hilarious. We just wanted you to help us raise the donations. You have such a mind for business, we thought we’d run it by you, is all.”

Ashby vaguely heard the last part of what Sheri said. “How did you know I wouldn’t scramble for a pig?”

Sheri didn’t even bat an eye. “I told them you wouldn’t ride on the handlebars of a bike, and I was right. If you won’t join the rest of us when we look silly doing something like that, then it doesn’t take a genius to know you’re not going to get down and dirty in the mud with a pig. No matter how much of a blast it’ll be.”

Lacy winced almost apologetically. “Especially since it is going to be a spectator sport. You know none of the guys would miss something like this.”

There was actually a hint of a dare in Lacy’s words. Trap ahead was ringing in Ashby’s brain, but she ignored it. Why? Because nothing bothered her nearly as much as what Sheri had just said. Ashby had an instant visual of the smug little group of cowboys, including Dan Dawson, discussing who would and who wouldn’t get in the pen with a pig.

Even a lonesome cowboy isn’t desperate enough to marry a gal so knotted up she can’t have fun. Dan’s words had been playing in her head like a broken record over the last couple of weeks. Knotted up… Yes, she knew she was. She also knew that this was her chance to get unknotted once and for all. Her mother would cringe at her word choice. “So what does one have to do to get in this pig scramble?” Did she just ask that?

“Well, this is what we thought,” Lacy said. “There’s going to be so many gals wanting to get in that arena they won’t all fit. We think it would be great to make the entry a competition. The ten gals who sell the most tickets and raise the most money get the privilege of scrambling for the pig. What do you think?”

“I’m determined to be one,” Sheri said, with a gleam in her eyes. “I’ve never done it, but me and piggy have a date, and he’s going down for the count.”

“I’m with you, sister!” Lacy slapped palms with Sheri.

Ashby bit her lip and watched their display of enthusiasm. Ashby had never in her life high-fived anyone, and honestly, she wasn’t feeling the urge at the moment.

“Pig scrambles are fun,” Norma Sue said. “Me and Esther Mae tackled a few in our time.”

“They’re rough little cooters, though,” Esther said.

Ashby’s stomach felt sort of sick, but she knew she had to speak up. “Can I ask all of you something?”

“Shoot,” Lacy said, fists on her hips.

This would be embarrassing, but she needed to know the truth. “Dan said that I couldn’t get a date because the cowboys think I’m…well, knotted up was the phrase he used.”

It was as if someone hit the mute button. Everyone in the room instantly clammed up and wouldn’t look her in the eye. That was her clue—they knew something about this.

“Well,” Lacy hedged. “We had heard something to that effect.”

“This is horrible.” Ashby wrung her hands. “And you didn’t say anything. All this time—”

“No, now don’t get all upset,” Lacy said, crossing the room to place a comforting hand on her arm. “They just don’t know you, Ashby. They don’t know the caring and wonderful person you are, because all they can see is the perfect package that God put you in.”

A chorus of agreement rang out around the room.

“I hate it when someone tells me how perfect I am,” Ashby groaned. “I’m horrible at physical things. I’m like a gangly giraffe.” And that was only appearancewise.

“Now, that is not true,” Adela said, finally speaking up. “When you arrived here last year for the first spring festival, I seem to recall that you and the sheriff won the three-legged race.”

“Only because Sheriff Brady was strong enough to haul me across the finish line. It had nothing at all to do with me.”

“It’s okay. Don’t sweat it,” Sheri said. “There is a guy out there for you, and when it’s time for the two of you to meet, you will.”

“Yes, but then it might be too late.”

“Too late for what?” Adela asked.

“For me to have a baby.”

Lacy cocked her head to the side. “Ashby, for goodness’ sake, you’re not even thirty.”

“You’re just a babe in the woods,” Norma Sue said.

“Ha. At the pace I’m going…”

Lacy grinned. “Relax, girl. If there is one thing that history has taught us, it’s that it is never, never too late. If God let Sarah have a baby at almost a hundred, you have to believe that if you are to have a baby, it will happen.”

Ashby sighed again. “But will I be a hundred?”

“Ashby, listen to me,” Sheri said. There wasn’t a twinkle anywhere to be seen in her eyes as she leveled them on Ashby. “You may have to take the bull by the horns in order to make your dreams come true.”

“That’s right.” Esther Mae shook her handful of pea pods for emphasis. “Empower yourself.”

Ashby expelled an exasperated breath. “I thought I did. I moved all the way out here to Mule Hollow, but nothing has changed. The only man who has asked me out is a shallow playboy, whom all of you for some reason think is a good match for me.”

“First of all,” Sheri said, “I do think you have Dan all wrong. And second, you changed your zip code. You didn’t change yourself.”

Leave it to Sheri to be frank. Ashby felt the sting of her words all the way to her toes. “So you think I am stuck-up. You think they’re right about me?”

“No.” Lacy jumped in. “That’s not what Sheri’s saying.”

“It certainly isn’t. I think you are afraid. Believe me, I’ve been there. I think you are afraid of looking silly.”

“He said that, too.”

“Who, Dan?” Lacy asked.

Ashby nodded, feeling like a loser.

“Is it true?” Sheri asked.

“In a way. I was brought up in a setting where looking silly was the cardinal sin. I’m not sure I can do it. Really, that first day here, I thought I could, so when Brady grabbed me to be in the three-legged race with him, I did it. But when it was over I just couldn’t stop thinking about how foolish I’d looked. Don’t get me wrong, I love my mother, but I can’t seem to get her voice out of my head.” Now they probably all thought she was an awful person. Her relationship with her mother was complicated, but she did love her….

No-nonsense Sheri shook her head. “There comes a time when you make your own way in the world, Ashby. Totally and completely separate from your past. Even your mother. It’s the only way to truly know who you are. What I found out as an adult is that my life is between me and the Lord.”

Echoes of agreement rang out across the room.

“You would have had a blast riding those handlebars,” Sherri continued. “And you could have a blast chasing a pig, too. Don’t relegate yourself to the corner just because you don’t have the best hand-eye coordination or because you think acting or looking silly is wrong. You have to laugh at yourself, take chances. Boy, did I ever learn that.” She frowned. “Not that I meant to preach to you or anything. It just hit a nerve.”

“Sheri’s right,” Lacy said. “If these cowboys see you out there laughing at yourself, they’re going to start seeing the Ashby we know. The one who would make a great wife and mother…and who’s one brilliant businesswoman.”

“That’s right,” Norma Sue called out. Esther Mae and Adela were nodding and smiling in vigorous agreement.

Ashby fought back the lump that had lodged in her throat. “I wish it were that simple.” She thought about the bike. She’d always wanted to ride a bicycle. What about scrambling for a pig? Could she? Dan Dawson would say no. “So you really think me getting into that arena and trying to catch that pig might help me get a husband?”

Sheri and Lacy nodded like bobble heads.

Ashby inhaled sharply. “Okay.” She had to do this. Even though her mother would be appalled at the idea…. Ashby had lived with the fear of a reporter saying the wrong thing about her in the Nob Hill or Pacific Heights society pages. Laughable, since her parents hadn’t ever been considered elite enough to be newsworthy themselves. This was, however, Ashby had realized, one reason her mother was so preoccupied with fitting in with the upper crust. She lived, breathed and dreamed of the days when she or Ashby would be mentioned on the right pages of the right papers. This was why Ashby had let herself be pushed into dating first Brad and then Carlton. Both were highly newsworthy—and both had passed her over for more compatible matches for their blue money within the space of six months. Her mother had not been happy with Ashby on either count. To her way of thinking, Ashby had “lost” them deliberately.

Ashby hadn’t dated again until after she’d moved away from home in San Francisco and opened her store in San Moreno, where she’d met Steven. Brad’s and Carlton’s rejection had devastated her mom. Steven’s rejection had devastated Ashby. It was time to make a change.

Taking a deep, calming breath, she let the idea sink in.

She took courage from everyone’s smiles. “I’m probably going to be the laughingstock of Mule Hollow. But I’m in. I’m going to show certain people that I can loosen up.” She gulped a very unladylike gulp.

She—Ashby Renee Templeton, who had never even played in a sandbox, much less in dirt—had a date with a pig!

Imagine that.

Chapter Three

The rodeo had been a good one, but it was about to get better. Leaning against the steel bars of the arena, Dan watched the group of laughing women prepare to do battle with the squealing pig in the pen behind him.

When he’d first learned that Ashby was going to participate, he figured it might be another train wreck. She’d been heavy on his mind in the month since they’d walked or limped the bike into town. Ashby had not been able to hide the pain of her blisters by the end of the disastrous ordeal. The cantankerous woman had refused all his attempts to help, and he’d finally stopped trying. Fortunately, by the time they’d made it into town, almost everyone was off participating in other festivities, sparing them some of the hoopla associated with coming in dead last.

Dan had to hand it to her, she’d said she wasn’t riding the bike and she’d stuck to her guns. Blisters and all.

It stood to reason that when word spread of her raising money to win herself a spot in the scramble, there had been a stampede of cowboys lining up to help her along. The chance to support a worthy cause and see Ashby pitted against a pig had been too good to pass up for some people.

Not that she’d let Dan help her out. Oh, no, she’d refused to sell him a ticket.

Yup, she was still miffed at him.

Watching her now, he decided she looked stiff and nervous. He had to admit, though, that she looked nice, as usual. But his attention fixed on her luminous eyes, wide with trepidation.

His gut twisted. Those eyes should be wide with anticipation. He wanted her to relax and have a good time.

Not that she’d believe him.

Her back was as rigid as a ruler as she waited for the signal to enter the arena. Much like it had been every time she’d seen him over the past month.

Sunday school had been awkward, but he’d refrained from teasing her, not wanting to add to her dilemma. The one she had no idea she had. He’d tried to get the guys to stop with the “Ashed” nonsense, but his efforts had only drawn more attention to her plight. He had hopes for her tonight.

Tonight she might redeem herself. Tonight Miss Prim might just change her situation.

He hoped so. He didn’t like feeling guilty.

Dan knew Roy Don Jenkins’s voice was going to crack to life over the loudspeaker any minute now to introduce the women so he hurried to wish the ladies good luck before going back up to claim a seat in the stands. There were ten women in the group. Some were married; some were single; all had worked hard selling tickets to get into this arena. He admired the hard work they’d put into raising money that would help support the women’s shelter. If a gal was ever curious about the way to his heart, that was it—donating time or money to women in need.

Not that he’d ever tell someone that bit of info; there were some things too private to talk about. Still, he’d come to wish them luck, and in doing so, silently thank them for their hard work and good hearts. “Ladies,” he said, drawing their attention. “I just wanted to wish each and every one of you luck out there. Stay safe.”

“Thanks, Dan,” Lacy shouted over a sudden squawk of the amplifier.

Ashby jumped at the sound and her gaze connected with Dan’s. Maybe she’d learn a thing or two from tonight. Even so, he hoped she wouldn’t get hurt. As he went to find a seat in the stands, he sent up a prayer that they’d all be safe. It hadn’t occurred to him until now that he’d sort of goaded her into this, and if she did get hurt, he’d be responsible. That was one burden he didn’t care to take on.

She’d lost her mind. That was the first thought that hit Ashby as she and the others jogged out into the arena. The crowd roared with laughter. In front of her, Lacy and Sheri mugged and waved at the crowd, while she stumbled right into a wet spot and nearly went down.

Sheri laughed. “What are you trying to do—steal the show?”

Relieved to still be standing, Ashby glared at her. “You can have the show. I don’t want to do this anymore.”

“Sure you do,” Lacy said.

Easy for her to say. Ashby wiped her damp palms on her jeans. The girl her mother raised wouldn’t dare be caught dead in an arena, sweaty and hot, chasing after a greased pig! For an instant, all lingering animosity toward her upbringing disappeared as regret over her newfound rebellious streak assailed her.

Stop it.

Twenty feet away, the little animal squealed from behind the gate where they were holding him.

Ashby was about to tango with a pig.

Shifting nervously from foot to foot, she reminded herself that standing here in the arena was going to help not only the shelter, but also her image around town.

She glanced at Lacy, who was hunkered down like a linebacker ready for the tackle.

The pig squealed again, sounding like wet brakes on an overloaded bus! Ashby shivered. Who was she kidding? She was way out of her element!

Nothing to do but follow people who looked like they knew what they were doing. Mimicking Lacy, she shifted her weight from foot to foot, her elbows bent, hands out. She just didn’t have the personality to pull this off. Feeling foolish and out of place, she straightened and stood stiffly.

She was hopeless.

Roy Don called over the loudspeaker for the gate to open, and she almost jumped out of her skin when the pig shot into the arena in a frenzied panic.

And no wonder! Nine women reacted at once, squealing and laughing as they ran at poor Piggy en masse. This way and that the poor animal raced. When it suddenly froze, there was an instant pileup as everyone dived. Everyone, that is, but Ashby. She hadn’t moved.

Nope. She was still standing exactly where she’d started. Maybe her slow reaction had saved her. Someone in that pileup had surely captured the pig.

Her dismay was huge when the slick pig squirted from the pile like a bar of soap in wet hands—just popped right out of there and…and headed straight for her!

Surely the charging pig could see that she was no threat. She was still frozen to the spot! Surely it understood that all it had to do was a bit of sidestepping and it would be home free. That the safety zone loomed only paces away.

But no, he couldn’t know that. He was a pig. One with a vendetta, and who had decided to make like a bowling ball. After all, it had just taken down the nine other ladies, so why not Ashby?

Someone, somewhere, yelled for her to grab it.

Do what?

Grab it, her mind ordered.

Before she could analyze what she was doing, Ashby closed her eyes and dived.

That’s right, she dived.

Straight for the forty pounds of squealing animal coming at her like greased lightning. She wasn’t sure what astonished her the most, the fact that she voluntarily threw herself into the muck…

Or that she caught the pig!

She thought she heard the grandstands go wild, but the pig was screeching in her ear and kicking the wind out of her at the same time. One minute she had it, the next, Ashby was lying flat on her back as the slimy ball of lard used her as a launching pad. From her prone position, Ashby watched it shoot across the white line that had been drawn down the center of the arena. Pig: 1, Humans: 0.

Groaning, Ashby spat dirt and pushed herself up, grease and dirt embedded in her clothing. The slimy mixture of grime and muck had also worked its way into her hair and across the left side of her face—which had been plastered to the side of the small beast.

Molly Jacobs, who was covering the fund-raiser for her national newspaper column, suddenly jumped in front of her and snapped off a round of shots. Blinded by the rapid-fire flashes, Ashby blinked. What a mug shot that was going to be!

But it was over. That was all she could think as she stumbled toward the other women in the center of the arena.

“Way to go, Ashby.” Lacy laughed. “You almost had him!”

Ashby thought it was the other way around. That pig had outwitted ten women. It was some pig.

Despite getting duped, the group clasped hands and lifted them up in triumph. To her dismay, they all seemed to have had a great time.

Ashby stank. They all did, but she was pretty sure she was the worst. She managed a semblance of a smile for the clapping audience, and reminded herself why she’d done this—this horrid, horrid thing. Perhaps it had not been in vain—it could even mark a turning point in her love life.

All she knew was that if this hadn’t changed her image, nothing would.

Dan snaked through the crowd toward where the ladies were exiting the arena. That had been the funniest thing he’d seen in years. Watching nine ladies pile up on the piglet like a football team after a pigskin had been pretty entertaining. But when that squealing animal popped out of the pileup and headed for Ash, she’d looked like a little girl confronting the monster beneath her bed. Her eyes had grown to the size of plates and she’d gone as white as the pristine wedding dress hanging in her store window.

The woman was a real dynamo. Who’d ever have believed it! When she’d dived, despite her obvious apprehension, every cowboy around him had hollered and cheered. Dan had a feeling she’d accomplished her mission. He was proud of and relieved for her at the same time.

And he was off the hook…

Despite the tensions between them, he was compelled to speak to her. To let her know he thought she’d done well—even though he didn’t think she’d care what he thought. He made it to the end of the stairs and was waiting a few feet from the exit as the ladies filed out. Ashby was at the tail end of the line. Her face was smudged with stuff he was quite certain she was trying hard not to think about. But her eyes were sparkling. Dan liked that.

Several of the single gals flirted with him on their way past. Beth Clark stopped to talk. She was excited and laughing, and he couldn’t help but smile back at her. She was a pretty woman, though some would say her chin was too strong. Dan was looking at the life in her eyes. He’d seen her at the shelter, helping out a few times when he was there, so he knew she had a good heart. She was going to make some cowboy a lucky man one of these days.

Beth was still talking when Ashby came through the gate. Not wanting to be rude, he placed a hand on Beth’s arm, halting her words momentarily with his touch.

“So how’d that feel?” he asked Ashby. She paused, her eyes meeting his, then flicking to Beth and back again.

“It was interesting.”

The surprise in her voice made him grin. “Told you it would feel good to loosen up.”

She tensed at his words and her eyes darkened. “Yes, you were right,” she said, then turned and walked away.

Chapter Four

“Hey, Ash, wait up, would you?” Having finally gotten through the crowd, Dan reached her just as she opened her car door. She was looking at the interior with a perplexed expression, as if it had just dawned on her that she had a problem. Knowing her the way he thought he did, Dan figured she probably hadn’t realized the state she’d be in coming out of that arena. Not that everyone had suffered the misfortune that she’d had, landing in that specific patch of dirt.

“What do you want?” She shot him a glare.

“Hold on to your bonnet. I didn’t mean anything by what I said back there. I come in peace.”

Her expression remained tense, but the hostility in her eyes eased as her gaze shifted from him to the inside of her T-Bird.

“How about I give you a ride into town? You can get cleaned up and come back for your car later tonight.” Her look turned skeptical. “Or tomorrow,” he amended. “You can get someone else to swing you by.”

She sucked in a deep breath. “I’ll mess up your truck.”

“Naw, you can ride in the truck bed.” When alarm flared in her eyes, he chuckled. “Just kidding. My truck’s built to handle the worst and keep on going. I’ll just take a hose to the floorboards and some soap and water to the seat.”

She stared at her car again. Dan took in the plush carpet lining the floor and the sporty bucket seats that were half cloth and half leather. “Those cow patties you rolled in aren’t going to come out of that cloth anytime soon. If ever.”

“I know. I’m a mess.”

It suddenly hit him that she sounded depressed. He’d first thought it was because she was less than happy at seeing him, but now he wasn’t so sure. He looked closer.

“Are you okay?”

Her lip trembled. “I smell like an outhouse. I don’t know what is in my hair and—” She clammed up suddenly but her lip still trembled.

That did it. Dan reached around her and picked her purse up off the seat. “Come on. Let’s get you home.”

She didn’t move, just stared at him. He held in a frustrated breath. “Look, I know you don’t have a stellar opinion of me, but unless you have a better offer, I’d suggest you take me up on this one.” Well, that was a low blow. But she was being obstinate again. Just as she’d been the day of the bike race. Without waiting for her, he closed and locked her door and headed across the parking lot toward his truck.

When he reached it, he set her purse inside on the console and waited as she approached, almost dragging her feet. She really was a mess. It was going to take a gallon of heavy-duty cleaner to restore his truck after he dropped her off at her apartment. Still silent, she eased into the seat with a squish. She closed her eyes as the scent filled the interior of his truck.

“If they’d warned me about what was mixed in with the dirt after a rodeo, I would never have done this.”

Dan chuckled, pulled the seat belt out and reached across her to buckle her in. She looked a little too shaken to manage it herself. The smell was worsening. He patted her knee before he closed the door. “Tomorrow you’ll be glad you did it.”

He was smiling as he hurried around to his side of the truck. She might be as prickly as a porcupine, but she sure had been something tackling that pig.

And he knew he wasn’t the only cowboy who’d noticed.

Ashby had never been so relieved to see the big Victorian where she rented a small apartment come into view. Dan’s kindness in the face of her dilemma had surprised her. She guessed she really was too much of a city girl to have realized she would be such a mess when the pig scramble was concluded.

Somehow, most of the others hadn’t seemed to be in such a hideous state. Just her luck.

Dan whistled as he drove her into town, but didn’t try to talk, almost as if he knew she needed time to wind down.

“Here you go,” he said, pulling into the driveway. “Anything else I can do for you?”

What did he mean by that?

“Don’t look so horrified. I only wanted to know if you needed me to hose you down in the backyard, or help you pull off those boots.” He grinned, and in the light of the dash, she could see his eyes twinkling.

“Thank you, but I’m fine.” Ashby climbed stiffly out of the truck and gasped when she looked back at the seat.

“Don’t worry, I’ll get this cleaned up the minute I get home.”

That was the most optimistic thing Ashby had heard all day. She nodded. “Well, thanks again for the ride. Good night.” The mortification of the entire evening was rapidly collapsing in on her. She closed the door and hurried toward the apartment house. She’d just stepped onto the sidewalk when Dan called her name. She turned to find him watching her through the open window.

“Sweet dreams, Ash. You did good.” He tipped his hat, then drove off.

She watched his taillights until they disappeared, reminding herself that the man had charming women down to a science. She could not let a nice gesture and a couple of kind words get to her.

Dan was trouble. He couldn’t be trusted. Men like him could appear sincere when it suited them. With a simple smile they could draw women like the proverbial moth to flame. Steven’s charm had worked the same way. She had believed every word of his lies until she’d found him kissing his secretary. Yes, charm was shallow. Men like Steven couldn’t be trusted and she’d do well to remember that every time Dan opened his mouth.

Easier said than done, Ashby thought the next morning as she looked up from her sweeping to see Dan sauntering down the sidewalk toward her. He was smiling that slow, easy smile of his, and though she’d been avoiding meetings like this for the past month, etiquette required her to stand her ground today, given his courtesy the previous night.

“Mornin’, Ash,” he drawled, coming to a halt a few steps away from her. “Letting your hair down agrees with you. You’re looking as pretty as an apple blossom this morning.”

Ashby’s pulse skipped. This wasn’t a personal observation, it was just Dan. He’d been at the candy store and he had probably spent thirty minutes flirting with all the ladies who worked there. It was a usual stop for him, but he didn’t have her fooled—no one ate that much candy.

“Good morning,” she said, her hands tightening on the broom. Her resistance was irrational today and she knew it. The man had given her a ride home when, frankly, no one else had come near her—with good reason! She’d almost cried when she’d seen herself in her bathroom mirror last night. “I hope your truck is okay today.” She had awakened feeling totally embarrassed about the entire evening before.

“It’s good. Told you it would be.” He leaned forward and inhaled deeply. “You smell much better today.”

Ashby felt her cheeks warm. From embarrassment, plain and simple.

He grinned and wiggled the bag in front of her. “Would you like a piece of candy?”

Okay, so maybe he really did have a sweet tooth, and he wasn’t just over there flirting. The ladies from the women’s shelter, who ran the store, did make some of the best confections she’d ever tasted. And it wasn’t her business, anyway, what this man did and didn’t do.

“No, thank you,” she managed to reply. “I wanted to thank you once more for your help last night.” She resumed sweeping, hoping he would pass on by.

He nibbled a chocolate peanut cluster and continued to study her. “Got any dates lined up yet?”

“No,” she snapped. Humiliation spurred her to sweep faster. A moment passed, and then he bent his knees and playfully peeked up at her, with irritatingly happy eyes.

“You’re mad about last night, aren’t you?”

Ashby scowled at him and kept working.

“C’mon, Ash. You don’t have anything to be ashamed about. You gave it your best shot and you proved me wrong. And you clean up nice—did I already say that?”

Knowing that he actually knew why she’d scrambled for the pig was the problem. She couldn’t tell if the burn she felt was from sunshine or embarrassment.

Well, he could just go away. Nothing would suit her more. As a matter of fact, all the rotten men of Mule Hollow could keep their distance. She didn’t need any of them. For the moment, she was so upset that sounded exactly right. Gave her some semblance of satisfaction.

And still Dan lingered.

“I’m on my way over to Sam’s to grab a cup of coffee and catch up on the morning news. Join me? We can have an early lunch.”

Did the man never give up? “I’m working.” She inhaled slowly, calmly. “But thank you, anyway,” she added, looking up at him as she struggled to hang on to her manners. She was five-eight—five-eleven in the three-inch heels she wore—and still she had to look up at him. Her lips curved in a tight smile of dismissal.

To her dismay, he leaned against the doorjamb and crossed his booted feet. His spurs sang, drawing her gaze. It was apparent that even though it was ten in the morning, Dan had already been working. There was a fine layer of dust covering the lower edges of his sun-faded jeans, and traces of red mud on his boots. The man might move with a slow grace that made him seem lazy, but Ashby knew he was a hard worker, splitting his time between his horseshoeing business, his cattle-buying operation and running his own herd. That was the reason he could eat all that candy and not have it show up on his waist.

“Ash, didn’t your mamma teach you it’s not nice to stare?” he drawled.

“I wasn’t staring. Your spurs distracted me.” Amazing, just amazing, how easy it was to let her guard slip around him. And he knew it, too. Her eyes narrowed as she met his smug expression head-on.

Not affected in the least by her ire, he nodded toward the interior of her store. “I couldn’t help noticing that you don’t have any customers, Miss Templeton,” he teased. “If a man didn’t know any better, he’d think you didn’t want to be seen with him. It’s just lunch, Ash. Or coffee. Take your pick. I’m easy.”

“No, thank you,” she said, fighting to remain aloof. She’d been doing so for a year now and the man’s persistence was amazing. She was probably the only woman on the planet who had ever turned him down—thus she understood she represented a challenge. He might even feel sorry for her. That stung. She held his gaze, refusing to give in to the dark emotions.

He bit into the peanut cluster and mimicked her aloof expression. “Sure you don’t want one of these? You know, the ladies next door do know how to make chocolate.”

Ashby shook her head, while her mouth watered.

For the candy.

“Don’t tell me you’re on a diet.” He regarded her skeptically.

“That, cowboy, wouldn’t be any of your business.”

He chuckled and his eyes sparked. “That’s not my fault. It’s not like I haven’t been trying to get to know you better.”

And that was all the reminder she needed to get her head on straight. “That, in a nutshell, is why I’d never go out with you. You are incorrigible, Mr. Dawson.”

He beamed! “Well, thank ya, darlin’. I was wondering when you were going to notice.”

“It wasn’t a compliment,” she said dryly. “You try to ‘get to know’ every woman within driving distance.”

“Oh, now you’re wounding me.” He covered his heart with the bag of candy.

She’d heard him make that statement many times and end it with his hand over his heart. Personally, Ashby felt it was a bit clichéd. Still, it made her own heart skip a beat. “We both know that’s impossible,” she snapped.

He startled her when he pushed away from the building to step close to her. “Maybe you don’t know me as well as you think you do, Ash.”

Unnerved by his proximity, she reached for the door. “I’ll take your word for it. Enjoy your coffee.”

He reached for the door, too, and his hand covered hers. Their eyes locked and held as every fiber of her being sizzled to life. She couldn’t move, and she hated herself for it.

He tugged on the handle, his smile blooming. “Don’t look so shocked, Ash. My mom taught me to open doors for ladies.”

When she noticed the twinkle in his eyes was verging on mirth, her good sense started making a comeback. This man knew the effect he had on her. He knew the effect he had on all women.

She yanked her hand back. Anger flashed through her that she’d reacted in such a pedestrian manner. “Thank you, but I could have done it myself.” She started to step past him. His hand on her arm stopped her.

“Like I said before, you need to loosen up, Ash.” His voice softened. “Is that why you’re afraid of me?”

Afraid? She lifted her chin. “I’m not afraid of you. You are just not what I’m looking for in a man.”

His eyes said he didn’t believe her. The way her pulse was going haywire, she wasn’t so sure she believed herself. But she knew what was good for her and what wasn’t.

“Ash, I think we both know you’re not being honest. Go out with me.” His voice grew husky. “Or at least have lunch with me. What could it hurt?”

Ashby’s resolve faltered. She stiffened her back and squared her jaw. “My name is Ashby and I’m not interested in having lunch with a playboy.” It sounded ugly, but it was as much for her own ears as for his.

His jaw tensed, but surprisingly he said nothing as she strode past him across the threshold, all too aware that he was watching her. All too mad at herself for losing control. The door closed with a refined click, as if to chide her.

The man took nothing seriously.

And she would do well to remember that bit of important information. She was looking for a husband. God’s man for her. Dan Dawson…

She watched him saunter toward Sam’s Diner, then turned her back to the window, putting the carefree flirtation out of her thoughts. Dan wasn’t that kind of man.

Not when she knew he’d probably stopped thinking about her the moment he’d stepped off the sidewalk and walked away.

Chapter Five

“Morning, Applegate and Stanley,” Dan said as he entered Sam’s Diner. It was midmorning, so the only customers were the two old-timers huddled over their perpetual game of checkers.

“So, did she turn ya down agin?” Applegate almost shouted, his wrinkled frown lifting into a craggy grin.

Dan slid onto a worn buckskin stool. “You know she did.”

The two old men stared at him.

Last night after dropping her off at her place, Dan vowed to back off, yet one look at her this morning and there he went…. “I guess either I’m a glutton for punishment, or I just like needling her.” He pushed his hat off his forehead. “What do you boys think?”

Sam came out from the kitchen, a small, wiry man with a brisk walk. Lifting the pot of coffee, he filled a cup for Dan without even asking. “It’s both,” he said as he poured. “I gotta warn ya, though, you better be watching yor back.”

“Look, fellas,” Dan said, not at all concerned with Sam’s unvoiced fears. “I’m well aware that the matchmakers have their eyes on me. Why do you think that is?” They’d seemed happy to leave him alone all this time.

“Why?” Stanley’s jovial expression changed to a smirk. “’Cause now that they’ve got the hang of this matchmaking, it’s like they can’t stop.”

Applegate nodded solemnly. “It is kinda enjoyable. I done got into it myself. But I ain’t so sure they’re gonna have thar way with Dan here.”

Sam slapped the towel he’d been wiping the counter with over his shoulder. “I told my Adela that very thang. I told her Dan was a born bachelor if ever thar was one.”

Dan nursed his coffee and listened to the boys. He probably did look like a born bachelor to them, and he was, to an extent. But he planned to get married someday. He wasn’t sure about having children…but marriage was something he hoped for, when the time was right. Despite what most people saw on the outside, he was a very cautious man. Marriage wasn’t something to rush. He was only twenty-eight and had a lot to accomplish before taking on that kind of responsibility. When he offered his name to a lady, there would be nothing more serious in all of his life. Though for the time being, the matchmaking ladies of Mule Hollow would have to be content fixing up others.

He wouldn’t hold it against the ladies for trying. They would realize the futility of their efforts soon enough. In the meantime, he didn’t mind in the least being their entertainment.

Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.

Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.

Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.