Parked outside the Tulips Saloon, Duke drummed the steering wheel

It appeared that there was a party going on inside, one to which he had not been invited. Gathering up his bravado, which had been shamelessly stamped on lately, he strode across the street. He eased open the doors and the smile slipped from his face, his gaze suddenly riveted to the beautiful cake Liberty was about to cut.

The cake was festooned with a tier of pastel pink and blue ribbons, and a silver baby rattle lay beneath it like a shiny announcement of a beautiful, miracle future.

His eyes met Liberty’s with horror and heartbreak and in them Duke read the truth: Liberty Wentworth was welcoming a baby into her life. That was the real reason she’d returned to Tulips.

What a faithless would-be-bride she’d turned out to be!

Dear Reader,

Many of you enjoyed the COWBOYS BY THE DOZEN books, and I had fun writing them for you. There are so many more stories in that series that I want to tell, and fortunately, my editor liked my idea of setting some books in a town neighboring Union Junction—Tulips, Texas, a town run by women. The move is truly one from leather to lace, and I loved writing the reverse of the strong-headed, strong-hearted men in COWBOYS BY THE DOZEN. Mainly, I loved being able to revisit old friends and make some new ones. I hope you will enjoy this three-book series—welcome to a town peopled with citizens who really love each other and understand that friendships are one of the most important parts of life.

Much love to you all,

Tina Leonard

My Baby, My Bride
Tina Leonard

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Tina Leonard loves to laugh, which is one of the many reasons she loves writing Harlequin American Romance books. In another lifetime Tina thought she would be single and an East Coast fashion buyer forever. The unexpected happened when Tina met Tim again after many years—she hadn’t seen him since they’d attended school together from first through eighth grade. They married, and now Tina keeps a close eye on her school-age children’s friends! Lisa and Dean keep their mother busy with soccer, gymnastics and horseback riding. They are proud of their mom’s “kissy books” and eagerly help her any way they can. Tina hopes that readers will enjoy the love of family she writes about in her books. Recently a reviewer wrote, “Leonard had a wonderful sense of the ridiculous,” which Tina loved so much she wants it for her epitaph. Right now, however, she’s focusing on her wonderful life and writing a lot more romance! You can visit her at www.tinaleonard.com.

This book is dedicated to Kathleen Scheibling and Paula Eykelhof. Many thanks for the wonders of my career.

To Lisa and DeanO, my best little friends. I love you.

And to my Gal Pals, and the Scandalous Ladies and wonderful friend Georgia Haynes—what marvelous friends and teachers you have been to me.

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

Epilogue

Chapter One

“Most of the memorable women, fiction or nonfiction, have been willing to raise a little hell.”

—Liberty Wentworth, throwing caution to the wind

It was Ladies Only Day in the Tulips Saloon in Tulips, Texas, but Sheriff Duke Forrester pitched the heavy glass-and-wood doors open anyway, drawing a gasp from the crowd of women clustered around something in the center of the room.

The ladies were, as usual, hiding something from him. In this town, named by women, and mostly run by women—it was true that behind every good woman there was a woman who’d taught her everything she knew—he had learned to outmaneuver both the younger and the older population of ladies bent on intrigues of the social, sexual and conspiratorial varieties.

“I heard,” he said, his voice a no-nonsense drawl, “that Liberty Wentworth was back in town. You ladies wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?”

Every one of them shook her head as the women tightened their circle. It was, he decided, almost an engraved invitation for him to storm their protective clutch and find out what they were up to. By now, they should know he was on to them. Oh, he’d let them have their way when they’d wanted to name the town cafeteria a saloon—they said a saloon sounded so much more dramatic to tourists who wanted that “old west experience.” But he wouldn’t let them have their way this time.

Liberty Wentworth, his ex-fiancée, was trying to keep her return to Tulips a secret, he was sure, with a backing of blue-haired friends. Some silver-haired friends, too, depending on what Holt, the resident hairdresser, was mixing up for his clients. Duke was pretty certain Holt’s colorful creations were a reflection of the man’s current mood, but the ladies loved him, calling him “sympathetic” to their cause.

Mostly, their cause was outwitting the sheriff, and this was plot number ninety-nine, give or take a few. Duke grinned, edging a foot closer to the ladies. Their faces grew worried with round-eyed concern.

“Now, this is Ladies Only Day,” Helen Granger said sternly. “Sheriff, you know that means no gentlemen in here.”

“Considering there are, what, maybe ten men in this town of fifty residents, I have to take exception to the rule. I think you ladies just like one day when you know I personally won’t be allowed in.”

“Is one day of sisterhood too much to ask?” Helen demanded. “One day of female bonding in our saloon? Hentalk can’t interest you that much, Sheriff.”

The hentalk comment gave them away, Duke decided, craning his neck to see what they were hiding. Women never called their chatter “hentalk,” and if a man called it that, he’d lose his hat from the gale-force wind of them yelling it off his head. “I notice Holt is excluded from The Rule,” he said silkily.

“Well, Holt’s different,” Pansy Trifle explained. “You know he is. Not like yourself at all. Not so manly,” she said, sucking up and trying to flatter his ego.

Ha. He had no ego. Liberty Wentworth had taken care of his ego six months ago when she’d left him at the altar, her little feet in high-heeled white shoes running as fast as they could away from him, her veil flying behind her like a banner ribbon of surrender to freedom.

“All right, ladies,” he said, gently moving Pansy to one side. “Let’s see what you’re up to this time.”

Immediately after he’d parted the women, he wished he hadn’t felt such an urge to play his manly role of plot-buster. Because there in the center of the sheltering circle of her friends was Liberty Wentworth, the blond bombshell who had detonated his heart, still possessing the face of an angel and wearing the white wedding gown of his never-ending fantasies. Nightmares, really. His heart began an uncomfortable pounding as she stared up into his eyes. If life were fair, he’d whip out his handcuffs right now and snap them on her fragile wrists so she’d be completely at his mercy.

Unfortunately, as much as the thought of Liberty in sexual bondage was a highly desirable situation, the ladies would beat him to death with parasols, tea trays and opinions. He had only one course of action left to him, one source of honor for his masculine pride.

He turned on his boot heel and walked out the door, surrendering to the sanctity of Ladies Only Day and hiding the sudden pain in his chest. Liberty was clearly planning on marrying another man, in the dress she’d worn to their non-wedding, no less. The woman was a serial marital tornado, he decided, putting himself in a better mood by pitying the next poor sap who was going to get his heart squashed by her now.

He despised Ladies Only Day with a passion.

Five minutes later, Duke was safely corralled inside his office at the jailhouse. It was dark and quiet, and that was good. He needed a moment or two to regroup, and to curse privately.

“Howdy, Sheriff.”

Duke put his hand up, warding off the greeting from the jail cell’s erstwhile occupant. “Not now, Mr. Parsons.” Duke sat heavily in the worn leather chair he’d inherited from the previous occupant of the sheriff’s position, Mrs. Gaines. Mr. Parsons’s silky-haired golden retriever, Jimbo, came to lay his head on the corner of Duke’s desk, giving him a soulful, sympathetic gaze. Actually, the damn dog was Duke’s, and actually, her name was Molly. But about the time Liberty decided to jilt him, Molly had also jilted him, leaving him for the warm, frequent, measured stroking Mr. Parsons offered her. Since Mr. Parsons had once owned a dog named Jimbo, whom he’d adored, Molly had undergone a psychic personality transformation—or a theoretical sex change—and become Jimbo. The rest was history. Duke stared at his meekly sympathetic dog, who was really a traitor in gorgeous fur come back to taunt him. Much like Liberty. Traitor. “All females are traitors,” he stated flatly to Mr. Parsons.

“Not necessarily,” Mr. Parsons replied. He’d finished making his bed and was picking up a broom to sweep out his cell. The cell door was open because Mr. Parsons was a volunteer occupant. He kept his cell cleaner than most folks kept their homes, so Duke had quit arguing with him about the fact that eventually he’d have to give up the cell for some vagrant or deserving troublemaker. Mr. Parsons had also deemed himself Duke’s secretary, so the man was of some use, even if his messages were indecipherable more often than not. “Mrs. Parsons was no traitor, though I often suspected she spied on me for the KGB.”

Duke rubbed his forehead under his hatband. “Liberty is a spy,” he said, jumping on the conspiracy theory because he was tired and annoyed. And heartbroken. “She’s a spy for the TSG.”

“Tulips Saloon girls?”

“Tulips Saloon Gang. Believe me, they are a gang.”

“Women tend to run as a pack,” Mr. Parsons observed. “And that’s where the fun is usually to be found. I’d run with their gang if they’d let me.”

Duke leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes. Molly-Jimbo’s head moved from his desk to his leg, and she gave an empathetic tweet of shared misery, which he appreciated so much that he put his hand down to enjoy the feeling of her silky ear between his fingers. “Just like Liberty’s hair,” he murmured.

“Pardon?” Mr. Parsons said.

Duke ignored him. Truth was, the old man was mostly quiet, and he had Duke’s dog, and Duke figured that was as practical a reason as any to let good company hang around. Mainly, he didn’t want to be completely alone with his thoughts, which always returned in ragged fashion to Liberty Wentworth.

LIBERTY ADJUSTED the flowing folds of her wedding gown and told her racing heart to quiet itself after Duke’s departure. “Duke only got half the surprise.”

Helen and Pansy fluttered around her. “A man doesn’t need to be overwhelmed with information,” Pansy said. “I think the sheriff took in all he could handle for the moment.”

“He asked for it,” Helen said crossly. “If a man walks through those doors on our special day, then he’s asking to get an education in women’s ways.”

The other ten or so women in the room nodded. One handed Liberty a tissue; another went and loaded up a plate of cookies that had been brought over from the neighboring town of Union Junction by Valentine Jefferson. She was the owner of the bakery there, and had given them the idea to start a Ladies Only Day. Her Men’s Only Day in Union Junction—a celebration of males, masculinity and fatherhood—had been a big success and had done much to boost the morale of the town.

It had seemed like such a good idea at the time, Liberty thought to herself. A day just for women, where they could bond with each other and share their most personal triumphs and disappointments.

She had come here today just for this brand of womanly comfort. “I’m sorry,” Liberty said. “I’ve put all of you in a bad spot now.”

“Nonsense,” Pansy said, her posture stout and determined. “As far as Sheriff Duke is concerned, we are always in a bad spot. We like it that way!”

Liberty smiled at her friend’s pluck.

“That’s right,” Helen agreed. “We’re determined to go out of this world raising hell, and Duke makes such an excellent foil for our objectives.”

That announcement seemed to center the group because the ladies stopped hovering and fluttering. They sat and reached for teacups and sweets. Liberty felt like neither eating nor drinking.

Of course, that had something to do with being pregnant with Duke’s child, the other half of the shock he would eventually endure. Dread filled her.

“Do you need a toddy, dear?” Pansy asked. “A good, sweet lemonade?”

Since it was a hot September in Texas, lemonade would normally be a refreshing treat. But not today—not since Duke had discovered she’d returned. Since seeing his handsome face, Liberty felt her stomach wouldn’t accept a thing.

“Maybe I should talk to him,” she said.

Valentine looked at her. “There is a time for talking, especially with someone as stubborn as Duke. I married a stubborn man and truthfully, catching Crockett was the hard part. After that, it’s been a lot of fun.” She smiled with encouragement.

Even with the support of all these wonderful ladies, Liberty felt her courage begin to drain out of her. “I really didn’t have catching Duke on my mind, since I technically returned him to the wild on our wedding day.”

“There is that,” Helen said. She sat down, shifting her black glasses on her nose and peering at Liberty. “It’s amazing how that wedding dress still fits you, as far along as you are.” Frowning, she touched the delicate lace. “I’m not certain the waist can be let out, dear, once you start gaining…once baby starts growing more. We’re pushing it at seven months, and I do believe it’s now or never for your lovely gown.”

An awkward silence fell over the room. Liberty stood. “This is my problem, and I’ve made everyone feel that it’s theirs. I’m going to walk down to the jail and talk to Duke.”

“You should change first, dear,” Pansy observed mildly. “Duke would probably be more receptive to you when you aren’t wearing white.”

“She didn’t mean that the way it sounded, Libby,” Helen hurried to say, but Liberty shook her head.

“It’s all right.” Hugging Pansy to melt the expression of dismay on her elderly friend’s face, she said, “I’ll wear black. That ought to suit his mood since he clearly thinks I’m the evil witch of Tulips.”

“Black is sexy,” Valentine noted.

“Yes, but I don’t think he’s in the mood to see me as sexy. To him, I’m the villainess of this play,” Liberty said, “and I can’t blame him. Unzip me, if you don’t mind, Helen.”

“Such a pretty gown,” Helen murmured.

Liberty could feel the woman’s fingers tremble at the delicate shell buttons and zipper at the back. “It’s just that Duke’s so strong,” she said to the room at large, as all the women watched the fantasy wedding gown coming undone with sad, wistful eyes. “He’s very opinionated. I got scared,” she said, trying to apologize, or at least explain her actions to the women who cared so much about her. She could feel their heartbreak and their concern. Of course, she’d had no idea she was pregnant at the time. Would she still have jilted Duke?

“Strong is good,” one of the younger women murmured. “I like a strong man.”

“Mmm. John Wayne,” someone else said.

“But a man can be too opinionated,” Valentine said, and Liberty felt better.

“Depends on where and how he decides to express his opinions,” someone commented, drawing a few giggles, though not from Liberty, Pansy, Helen or Valentine.

The heavy doors of the Tulips Saloon crashed open. All the ladies gasped, not the least because of the fabulous stained-glass design of hot pink and red tulips that adorned the door, but mainly from the shock of being startled from their conversation—again.

“Liberty!” Duke’s voice could have drowned out a cannon’s boom. She whirled to look at him, holding her hands to the sweetheart neckline of the dress so it wouldn’t fall from her shoulders.

She raised her chin, not about to answer him meekly. “You snarled?”

“We need to talk,” he said, his arms crossed.

“Need has never been one of my favorite words,” she said. “I prefer would like to, or even should.”

“Phrased nicely,” Pansy said, bobbing her head so that her spectacles danced. “‘We should talk’ would sound ever so much more chivalrous.”

“I’ll wait for you outside.” He tipped his hat to the room and left.

Liberty looked at her friends. “That is the definition of strong.”

“Well,” Valentine said, “he is upset.”

“He does need some sugar on that temper of his,” someone suggested.

“Of course, he was devastated when she left,” another matron sympathized.

“Well,” Helen said with a sigh, “go change, honey. Let him cool his heels a minute. I’ll tell him you’ll be right out, and maybe that will settle him.” She picked up a delicate teacup, poured some fresh tea in it and bravely headed outside to offer it to the sheriff.

Liberty went into a back room and slipped out of the beautiful gown with Valentine’s help. Valentine hung the dress for her, covering it in plastic. Even beneath the cover, the dress shimmered with hope and dreams of happiness. Liberty had sewn every single one of those sequins and crystal beads herself, and had cut the satiny fabric with trembling fingers while Pansy and Helen helped her keep it from snagging or getting dirty. That dress had been a labor of love on all their parts.

“The ladies say he really is a teddy bear,” Valentine said.

“He is,” Liberty agreed, “when he’s not being a horse’s ass. You don’t get one without the other with Duke.”

Valentine giggled. “I heard his brother, Zach, is the same way.”

“Zach may be worse. Although Pepper takes the cake,” Liberty said. “Little sister knows exactly how to tame those brothers of hers.”

“Where is Pepper, anyway?” Valentine asked, carefully smoothing the plastic covering the dream dress.

“I don’t know. Off somewhere, being a wild woman.” She smiled as she pulled on jeans and a loose white sweater. “I think the fact that Pepper and I were best friends growing up gives me insight into the family. Zach and I were close, almost as much as Pepper and I were. But not Duke. I think I fell in love with him when I was five years old. I was watching him catch tadpoles, and I remember thinking he could do anything.” He had been her hero.

A part of her still thought he was.

She shook her head as she stepped back into her high-heeled wedding shoes. There wasn’t going to be a wedding but she might as well wear them, even if they might be the color of sin in Duke’s eyes. The heels would make her a little taller when talking to him—and a little sexier, despite her pregnancy.

“Your shoes and sweater match,” Valentine said. “You look so pretty, Liberty. No one would ever guess you’re seven months pregnant. I hope you don’t mind me saying so.”

Liberty smiled. “Thanks.”

“I’m going to head back to Union Junction. I’ll give your dress to Helen and Pansy.” She hugged Liberty. “In the meantime, good luck with Duke.”

Pansy poked her head around the door. “Duke says he’s gotten a call and he’s got to leave, so you’d best hurry, dear.”

Liberty hugged Valentine again and followed Pansy out, waving to her friends who watched her depart with some concern. Outside the saloon, Duke stood on the sidewalk, sexy as all get out and clearly disgruntled.

“I have to go,” he said. “I have a call. But we should talk.”

Noting he’d used the ladies’ more courteous phrasing, she gave him points for trying and nodded. “All right.”

“You can ride with me if you like.” He eyed her wedding shoes. “Although we’ll be going into the country on a family crisis call.”

“Who is it?” She followed Duke with quick steps as he strode away.

“The Carmines. Mrs. Carmine says her husband left last night and she wants someone to talk to. She thinks he may have gotten lost.”

“Again,” Liberty murmured. Bug Carmine frequently departed to his fields with a bottle of whiskey and a shotgun. The shotgun was in case he saw a deer or duck he wanted, though in his ten years of disappearing, he’d never brought home food nor trophy. People suspected he couldn’t see more than five feet in front of him. His disappearance upset Mrs. Carmine after a few days. She would call someone to fetch him from the five hundred acres he could hide himself in, and he’d come home sheepishly, bottle empty but shotgun still loaded.

They got in Duke’s truck. He glanced over at her, and Liberty’s nerves tightened.

“So,” he said, “who’s the lucky guy?”

Chapter Two

“There is no lucky guy,” Liberty said. “You should know that better than anyone.”

He scowled. Why had he asked? No matter the answer, it was bound to hurt. But she wouldn’t have been wearing the wedding gown if she wasn’t intending to marry another man.

It was killing him.

“No second chances from me,” he said. “I’m not asking twice.”

He felt her astonishment. “I’m not asking you to ask me, if you’re referring to marriage.” Her posture stiffened. “Duke, my leaving had more to do with me than you. I got scared. I wasn’t ready. Even I didn’t know I was a predestined runaway bride. It just happened, silly as that seems.”

“If it was any woman other than you who’d done that, I’d think they were a little loose in the skull,” he said. “But being loosey-goosey is sort of your way. I think it’s what attracts me to you.”

Of course, there were a lot of other things that attracted him to her. Right now he could smell her perfume. It smelled wonderful, reminding him of the scent of her skin. The memory worked him over. “I think you weren’t convinced.”

“Of what?”

“You weren’t convinced that you couldn’t live without me. Since we never really dated but made love twice—in one afternoon—you probably were unconvinced that I was husband material.”

“I don’t think that was it. But let’s not examine it too much. If we try to overanalyze it, we might figure something out, and I don’t want to. It’s in the past.”

He didn’t like that. “Completely?”

“Not exactly,” she said.

“Aha! You did like sleeping with me!”

“I never said I didn’t,” she said tartly. “That was the one really good thing about you.”

“What the hell does that mean?” He couldn’t decide if he was gratified or insulted. “Liberty, when I asked you to marry me, you said yes. I assumed there was something about me you liked beyond the bedroom.”

“The field,” Liberty murmured, “and then a closet.”

“It was awesome. I never knew a woman could be so flexible.”

“Duke!” She sighed. “Good sex doesn’t a marriage make.”

“It makes something,” he said, “and in my book, it makes something good.”

“Yes, well—” Her voice drifted away. “I want something more solid than sexual desire. That fades away over time.”

He turned into the Carmines’ drive. “Like what? A written promise that I’ll always want you enough to make love to you in a closet?”

“Yes.” Liberty nodded. “And that you’ll never try to rule me, or boss me, or overwhelm me with your personality. You’re very chauvinistic in some ways, Duke.”

He laughed. “Not me. That would be my brother, Zach.”

She shook her head. “Zach was always the gentleman. The girls love him. You were always the autocratic one.”

“That’s why I’m sheriff,” he said happily. “It’s an autocracy.” He stopped the engine. “You’ve been hanging around those little blue-haired friends of yours too much. Any day now I expect them to bring out their suffragette banners.”

“That’s not very nice, Duke Forrester. Shame on you.”

He smiled, appreciating the sensation of being the bad boy with a bad girl. “I couldn’t boss you even if I wanted to, Liberty Wentworth. You’re far too unquantifiable for that.” Leaning over, he brushed her lips with his. “Of course, I’ll always be bullheaded enough to take what’s mine.”

“That’s it,” Liberty said, getting out of the truck, “you flunked the test.”

“Poor testing parameters, if you ask me.” He took her arm, helping her to the porch. “You and I were made for each other. We’re like an odd shape, not meant to fit another puzzle on the planet.”

“Sounds dreadful.” Liberty knocked on the door. “Mrs. Carmine! Are you home? It’s Liberty Wentworth!”

“I believe that’s my job,” Duke said to her. “And Sheriff Duke Forrester!”

“Sometimes it’s easier for women to talk to women. Especially about things like husbands that run off for days.”

He crooked an eyebrow at her. “One day, our last name is going to be the same, and then we can stand on Mrs. Carmine’s front porch and just holler ‘It’s the Forresters!’”

“Sounds like a movie title. Maybe it is. It was probably a bad one, too,” she said as Mrs. Carmine opened the door.

“No way. Everything about the two of us together is good,” Duke said as Liberty hugged Mrs. Carmine.

“How are you doing?” Liberty asked the elderly lady.

“I’m fine.” She smiled bravely. “I’m just lonely. Would you mind fetching my husband home?” she asked Duke.

It would be a chore searching all the acreage, but one he’d done many times. “A pleasure,” he said, interpreting Liberty’s glare to mean be gracious. “We’ll go right now. Don’t you worry about a thing, Mrs. Carmine. We’ll tell Bug it’s time to get home.”

She nodded. “Thank you. It’s good to see you, Liberty,” she said, her voice quavering. “If I’d known how men like to disappear, I probably wouldn’t have married Bug, as much as I hate to say it.”

Great. That’s all I need—a little help from the “Wish I Hadn’t” club. “Now, Mrs. Carmine,” Duke said patiently, “you know you love Bug.”

“Bug is a pain in my ass,” she declared. “Like a child, always running off.” She looked at Liberty. “You’re lucky Duke is such a stalwart sort.”

Duke enjoyed the blush pinkening Liberty’s face. It was good for Liberty to know that other women considered him a catch!

“Of course, stalwart can be boring,” Mrs. Carmine said with a frown. “If I was your age again, I’d run off with an Italian lover or a Russian circus performer first. Then I might settle down. Might.”

Liberty blinked. “Let me fix you a cup of hot tea, Mrs. Carmine.”

“No.” A sigh so deep it made her pinafore rise escaped her. “You just go find my Bug before I get the urge to squash him.”

Liberty hugged the older woman, then walked out the front door Duke held open for her.

“Now don’t go getting any ideas,” Duke said. “It’s well-known that the Carmines married very young.”

“Her words are food for thought, though,” Liberty said.

“Try a diet,” Duke said. “Some foods aren’t healthy for you.”

Liberty got in the truck. “Then again, sometimes the food you like most is the least healthy for you.”

He turned to look at her before grabbing her shoulders and kissing her hard. “How’s that for an appetizer?” he asked after he’d thoroughly ravaged her mouth.

She raised her chin and gave him a haughty look. “So good I prefer to skip the main course.”

He rammed his hat down on his head, not sure what to say to that. What was wrong with her? Women didn’t push him away as hard as Liberty was doing. Driving down the hill into the back pasture, he considered his options where Liberty was concerned.

He didn’t appear to have many.

“Duke, when do you run for reelection?”

The change of subject startled him. “I don’t really run. No one else wants the job. I’ve always been a shoo-in.”

“When does that happen?”

“I suppose the elections are this month. I hadn’t really thought about it.” He began to scan the landscape for Bug. “You look on that side, I’ll look over here.”

He thought about her question and idly wondered what had brought her back to town. “Are you running?”

She looked at him. “From you?”

“For sheriff,” he stated flatly, his jaw tightening. Did she have to bring that up again?

“Oh, no. I heard your brother Zach was. Then I heard your sister Pepper was, but that’s silly. Pepper’s not here.”

His jaw untightened and went slack. “Where did you hear that?”

“At the saloon.”

“They haven’t told me.”

“Actually, what I think I heard is that the ladies have decided to petition them onto the ballot.”

“The ladies?” Duke demanded. “By that you mean the little group that’s constantly scheming.” He was slightly hurt, he had to admit. The “ladies” always conspired against him, but it was usually in a somewhat delightful spirit that he indulged. They were, after all, much older than he and deserved his respect.

But petitioning his siblings onto a ballot to run against him didn’t sound like something he cared to indulge. He kept looking for Bug, trying to ignore the hammering in his heart.

“All the ladies,” she clarified. “At least the ones who were in attendance at today’s Ladies Only Day.”

“I knew that was a bad idea. If the men had been there, the gang would have been soundly overruled.” He scratched his chin, aware that he was beginning to sound truculent. He softened his tone. “You still haven’t told me what you were doing wearing the dress you were supposed to wear to our wedding. I have fond memories of you trying it on and letting me button those tiny little buttons.”

He had taken his sweet time doing so, enjoying touching her and looking down at her bare shoulders. She was the smoothest, softest thing he’d ever seen.

“The ladies were trying to convince me that it was a good idea to marry you,” Liberty said. “I had a weak moment.”

“Ouch.”

“No! I didn’t mean that. I meant that I allowed them to coerce me into trying it on.” She put a hand on his arm. “Duke, it wasn’t you as much as it was me, really and truly.”

“You spend too much time around women, listening to them gripe about their men,” he said gruffly, “and it scared you.”

“No, frankly just the thought of marrying you spooked me.” She sighed. “You can’t blame them. I had my own doubts.”

“I’m not so terrible,” he complained.

She turned away. “You’ll be wonderful for the right woman.”

“You are the right woman!” he roared. “Or at least you would be if you’d act right.”

“Duke,” she said, “we’d end up like the Carmines.”

“Only you’d be the one running off. Even Mrs. Carmine said I’m stalwart.” He was proud of that. “By the way, you still look good enough to eat in that dress. It always reminds me of a big, fluffy piece of Ms. Pansy’s divinity when I see you in it.”

“Ugh. I’m not sure that’s what it was supposed to evoke.”

“I like dessert, so the dress was perfect, in my opinion.”

“There he is,” Liberty said, pointing.

Duke slowed the truck as he saw the old man sitting propped against a tree, watching ducks fly overhead. His rifle was on the ground next to him but the elderly man didn’t have a hand on it. He appeared to be watching the wedge of ducks as they flew, perfectly content to enjoy the silence and the heat of the day. “He doesn’t look ready to go home.”

“You tell him,” Liberty said. “I’m not in a position to tell someone they should return home.”

“You got that right,” Duke said, “and I might remind you, based on the popular opinion of my stalwartness, you should tell your lady friends that their idea to write Zach and Pepper into the ballot hurt my feelings.”

Liberty laughed. Then she saw the seriousness of his face as he parked the truck. “Did it really?”

“Yes, damn it.” He switched off the engine, keeping an eye on Mr. Carmine. “How would you feel if you knew all your townfolk that you’d sworn to serve and protect were always conspiring against you?”

“It’s not actually against you,” Liberty said, but Duke waved her comforting words aside.

“Sure it is. They’ve got some bee in their bonnets over something. Like I haven’t given in to them enough. They wanted to change the name of the town to reflect the Dutch ancestry of the settlers, so I agreed. They wanted to change the name of a perfectly good establishment to make it more of a tourist attraction, and I agreed to that, with great reservation. Now they’re trying to run me out by writing in my siblings’ names—one of whom hasn’t been here in a year—with their little wizened hands. Judases!” He frowned. “Or would that be Jezebels?”

“Oh, gosh.” Liberty got out of the truck. “Duke, come on. We’ve got a job to do.”

He got out, his heart heavy. What was the matter with all the females in his world? Clearly none of them cared that he was so easy to get along with.

It wasn’t fair.

“Hello, Mr. Carmine,” he said.

“Howdy, Sheriff,” Bug said, not surprised to see him at all. “Nice day, isn’t it?” He nodded to Liberty. “Glad to see you back in town, girl.”

Liberty sat next to him. She picked up his bottle, which looked empty and probably had been for some time. From her jeans pocket, she pulled out a package of spearmint gum, and they each had a piece. Duke raised an eyebrow, watching this silent communication.

“Mrs. Carmine is wondering about you,” Duke said.

Bug looked back at the sky as if searching for the ducks he’d been watching before. But they were long gone and only small white clouds trailed across the blue in cumulus strings. Bug’s gaze came to rest on Duke. “How’s your jail, Sheriff?”

“It’s a jail,” Duke said. “And occupied,” he continued quickly, in case Bug was looking for a place to stay. “Mr. Parsons is still in residence.”

Bug nodded. “Marriage is a jail, and I’m still in residence, too.”

Liberty shot a worried glance at Duke. He remained silent. Maybe his powers of communication weren’t quite what he’d thought they’d been.

Liberty stood, putting her hand out to Mr. Carmine. After a moment, Bug took her hand and lifted himself to his feet, giving all appearances of using Liberty’s strength as emotional support. Duke watched as the two of them headed to the truck. Bug silently settled himself into the back seat of the double cab. Liberty nodded at him, telling him they were ready to go, so he got behind the wheel and drove back to the ranch house.

Mrs. Carmine came out onto the porch, her face lit with a gentle smile. Bug got out of the truck, and walked toward the house, where he was enveloped in a big hug he seemed happy to return. The two of them went inside the house arm in arm and closed the front door.

Duke blinked. Checking the back seat, he saw Bug’s shotgun and empty whiskey bottle.

“He won’t need the gun ’til next time,” Liberty said. “Why don’t you just keep it with you at the jail for now? He’ll come get it soon enough.”

He didn’t understand any of what had just happened. But Liberty seemed to, and he was happy to take her suggestion. “What happens now?”

She shrugged. “Now Mrs. Carmine ignores that he went away because she loves him, and he ignores the fact that he’s unhappy because it’s not her fault.”

What a prison. A curse, maybe. Like something out of a Grimm’s fairy tale. Duke plucked at the steering wheel. Maybe Liberty was on to something where they were concerned, though he was hard-pressed to admit it.

Still, he didn’t want her to ever think marriage to him was a jail, though Mr. Parsons seemed to like his own prison well enough. “Ye gods, you people are hard to live with,” he said, and Liberty looked at him.

“So?” she asked. “Your conclusion?”

“That you’re right,” he said slowly. “There really is no happy ending.”

“I think not,” Liberty said, “which is a very scary thought.”

“Damn,” Duke said. “I need to get home and feed my dog.” He started the engine, glad to have an excuse to hurry back to town.

“I thought Mr. Parsons took care of Molly-Jimbo.”

“He feeds her peanuts as a snack,” Duke said righteously. “I want to make certain I head him off at the pass.”

“Does she like the peanuts?”

“Molly likes anything that comes from a human hand.”

“Then what’s the problem?” Liberty asked.

“I don’t like it. A dog should eat dry dog food.”

Liberty raised a brow. “Duke, do you ever bend the rules?”

“No,” Duke said, surprised. “If I did, I wouldn’t be sheriff, would I? At least not a very good one.”

Liberty turned her head to look out the opposite window. “I suppose not.”

They rode in silence until they reached the town square.

“Please drop me off at the Tulips Saloon,” Liberty said.

“It should be closed. No one will be there.”

“I have a key,” Liberty said.

“A key?”

“Yes. Of course. I am one of the co-owners of the saloon,” she said. “Along with Pansy and Helen and a few others, as you very well know. It was our gift to ourselves, a woman-owned business.”

“And a questionable one at that,” Duke grumbled, griping because he knew full-well that the ladies had been catching tourists who came to town with their stained-glass-decorated monument to femininity and womanhood. “I just thought that perhaps since you’d left town, maybe you’d given up your key.”

She looked at him for a long moment, long enough to make his heart shrivel. God, how he wanted to kiss her again, kiss her the way they used to kiss, without worry or hurry or anything more than intense pleasure on their minds.

“I guess you were the only person who thought I’d never come back,” Liberty finally said. She got out of the truck and closed the door, not looking back. The door to the saloon opened for her, and Helen and Pansy peered out at him before snatching Liberty inside and slamming the door.

Heaven only knew how he’d become the villain.

Chapter Three

Duke was proud of three things in his life: his family, his job and his reputation. He loved his sister, Pepper, and his brother, Zach, so it hurt that they might be part of the blue-haired angels’ plan to oust him from the vocation of which he was most proud. All of this directly impacted his reputation, which was bad enough. The root cause of the problem, he realized, was the woman he loved.

He had a plan for dealing with Liberty Wentworth-who-should-be-Forrester-by-now. A taste of her own medicine was what she needed. If he could straighten her bent ways, then all the rest of the crooked line that had become his life would return to being straight-as-an-arrow predictable as the road to the Forrester homestead, on which he was now driving with his traitorous brother.

“Maybe,” Zach said, watching Duke glare out the windshield, “you should talk to the ladies. They’ll have insights into your female issues.”

Duke pinned him with the glare. “Zach, do not violate the bachelor code.”

“Is there one?”

“Hell, yes. Bachelors only commiserate with each other. They never, ever side with the enemy.”

“Since when are women the enemy? I like them,” Zach said. “I’ve got two dates this weekend.”

“I’ve got the Tulips Saloon Gang banded together against me with their dolly faces and their innocently spindly frames. I need backup, please, so don’t give me any more advice like that. It just doesn’t help.”

“Spindly?” Zach repeated with a laugh.

“Yes,” Duke said, “how can anyone put up a good fight against such frail and fragile creatures?”

Zach shook his head.

“And I want to know how much a part of their newest plot you are,” Duke said indignantly. “And don’t act like it’s news to you, because they’ve already told me about The Plot.”

His brother grinned. “We just think you might need a vacation, Duke. Of the honeymoon variety. Take some time off. Start a family.”

“Did I ask anyone’s advice?” Duke abruptly braked to a stop in front of the house, sending up clouds of dust. He turned to face his brother for dramatic impact so Zach would know he’d really stepped over the line this time. “I don’t want to start a family, thank you. And I like my job a lot. It’s never boring.” He thought about that for a moment. “In fact, it’s downright exciting, a cross between Peyton Place and Petticoat Junction.”

Zach slapped him on the back. “It was Pepper’s idea.”

Duke gestured toward the old house. “Pepper doesn’t even live here!”

“Actually, she does now,” Zach said, pointing to an upstairs window where their little sister waved at them with something that looked vaguely like a butterfly net.

“Did she come home to hunt insects?” Duke asked.

“I believe that was a Victoria’s Secret undergarment,” Zach said, amused. “Not that I’m surprised you didn’t know.”

“Why would she wave that out the window?”

Zach laughed. “Because she’s crazy and it was what she was holding at the time we pulled up. She’s unpacking her suitcase, dummy. How ’bout you go give her a proper brotherly greeting and act like you’re happy she’s back after all these years?”

“But selfishly, I’m not,” Duke said, following Zach, though he knew in his heart he was glad. “If the only reason she’s come home is to conspire and plot—”

“Duke, everybody conspires and plots with Helen and Pansy and the rest of them. Even you do. So let it go.”

Duke didn’t like that, but there was a bit of truth to the comment, so he did what he wanted to do, which was take the stairs three at a time and grab his sister in a bear hug. “I’m so glad you’re home,” he said. “You can cook my dinner.”

Pepper laughed and gave him a smart kick in the shin. “No deal. You are cooking mine. I’m the weary traveler.”

She looked anything but weary. “You were gone too long,” he told her.

“I was here for your wedding,” she said. “February wasn’t that long ago.”

He frowned at her. “I meant…you know what? You’re as bad as Zach. You just want to argue!”

She put her arm through his. “I like arguing with you. Your face gets all red. And you make such an easy target because you have so many opinions.”

He shook his head, liking how she linked her arm through his and led him down the stairs. Sometimes Liberty was soft with him like this, too, and he always melted for women who knew how to work him. Not that that was particularly a good thing. A man had to watch women who plotted against him. Even his dog knew he was a softie.

“Please tell me you didn’t return to run for my office.”

“I didn’t, although something was mentioned to me about it, I will admit,” Pepper said. “But I have bigger things in mind.”

“Great,” Duke said. “Tulips needs fresh blood.

Where are you going?”

“Into town,” she said, grabbing a gaily wrapped present off the entryway table.

“Hey, I’ll drive you,” he said. “Bye, Zach.

Thanks for the pep talk.”

Zach laughed, appreciating the sarcasm. “Any time.”

Molly, who had come along for the ride, leaped into the truck bed, a blur of golden beauty. “She loves you,” Pepper said.

“When it suits her,” Duke said, starting the engine. “Who’s the present for?”

“Someone special,” Pepper replied, with a teasing smile. “Drive and mind your own business.”

“Not as if I won’t know eventually. There are no secrets in this town.”

Pepper laughed. “The hell there aren’t. Tulips is charmingly secretive.”

He frowned. “I’ve always found it to be annoyingly busybody.”

“Duke,” Pepper said, “one day you’re going to have to accept where you live. And the people you live with.”

“I do. I’m the sheriff, aren’t I?”

“This is a woman’s town. You should feel lucky.

You get good food, good gossip and lots of drama.

All the ladies suck up to you.”

“Not anymore. Liberty ruined it,” he said.

“Now all the women treat me as if I contain a polar charge. They bounce away any time I get close.” He frowned. “It’s not fair. Zach has two dates this weekend, and all I want is one.”

“Really?”

“Yeah,” Duke said, not wanting to talk about it anymore. He wasn’t going to get the date he wanted, so that left him with the option of moping or getting over it, and he always preferred to get over whatever needed getting over. “But I’ve got a plan to straighten out Miss Liberty.”

“You do?”

He was pleased by the surprise in his sister’s tone. “Yes. She wants to play hard-to-get. I will be harder-to-get. And I may even date other women, if necessary.”

“To make her jealous?”

He scratched at his chin, not certain Liberty would be jealous. “Just to let her know she’s not the only girl around.”

“Oh. Okay.”

As they pulled up in front of the Tulips Saloon, a melodic sound tinkled through the truck, sounding very much like a wind-up lullaby. Duke listened for a moment, unable to place where the sound was coming from. “Your cell phone?”

Pepper hesitated a moment. “It sounded like a cell phone, didn’t it?” She smoothed the fancy pink-and-blue ribbon on the big box in her lap.

“You going to answer it?”

“I don’t think so. Not right now.”

The music stopped, so Duke shrugged. “Well, they’ll call again.”

“No doubt they will,” Pepper murmured. “Thanks for the ride.” She kissed his cheek and got out of the truck. He waited while she patted Molly, who then decided to follow Pepper into the saloon, much to his chagrin. The dog was completely faithless, a Pied Piper to whomever petted her.

A moment later, Pansy and Helen disappeared inside the doors of the saloon, also carrying wrapped presents. Then in his rearview mirror he saw Valentine pushing a white wicker pram on huge wheels and walking alongside a rangy cowboy—the kind who made the girls squirm and swoon at rodeos. He carried a large cake in his big arms. They, too, went into the Tulips Saloon.

“It isn’t Ladies Only Day,” Duke declared to no one but himself. He drummed the steering wheel, straightening when Holt the hairdresser also went inside. It appeared that there was a party, one to which he had not been invited, which gnawed at his already rough feelings. What in the hell was going on in there?

There were more arrivals, including Mr. Parsons and Mr. Carmine, who looked around with surreptitious glances to make certain they weren’t seen before slipping inside as well. Duke blinked. They hadn’t been carrying presents, but… The Plot! Of course, The Plot. The townspeople really were working to unseat him! “What did I do to deserve this?” he asked himself. There was nothing for him to do but slink back to his jailhouse and try to ignore the fact that it was utterly empty for once. He could clean out a filing cabinet. Hell, for that matter, he could dust his cactus and maybe check the mailbox, not that there was ever much of anything in it.

He hated it when conspiracies brewed around him. But he drove across the square, parked at the jail and got out, morosely glancing over his shoulder at the Tulips Saloon.

Just then he saw the biggest traitor of them all sneak through the stained-glass doors like a garden snake into a watering can—Zach. His own brother!

No doubt Liberty was in there. Of course she was. She would be right in the thick of the action, surrounded by her friends.

He felt the urge to cross the street and crash the party, feigning that his invitation had been misplaced. Maybe it had been? But his sister would have dragged him in, at least, if she’d thought he’d been invited, which meant he most definitely had not.

And he’d vowed to stay clear of Liberty, to give her a taste of her own medicine.

“Damn it,” he muttered. His heart was breaking. To be ousted from the town he loved, snubbed by people he spent his days helping…

What had gone so wrong between he and Liberty? One second he’d had her at the altar, the next, she’d disappeared. He should be angry, but all he did was love her more. Her wild side appealed to him.

And damn it, that’s exactly what he was going to tell her. He was going to walk into the Tulips Saloon like the sheriff he was—this time he’d even gently ease open the doors instead of tossing them back—and he’d politely ask for his dog. That’s what he’d do.

It wouldn’t work, he realized, because Mr. Parsons was in there and she probably wouldn’t even leave the old man’s side.

Okay, so he’d cruise over there and just act as if he hadn’t known there was a party. It wasn’t Ladies Only Day so he had every right, he assured himself righteously while taking a swig of whiskey in some cold coffee for courage.

Gathering up his bravado, which had been shamelessly stomped lately, he strode across the street. With good manners and a somewhat trembling heart, he calmly opened the doors with a smile that he hoped would convey I’m harmless, aren’t we friends?

Silence enveloped the room. The smile slipped from his face as he saw the rangy cowboy sitting next to Liberty. Hesitating—remembering to keep a lid on his temper—his gaze suddenly riveted to the beautiful cake Liberty was about to cut.

The cake was festooned with a tier of pastel pink-and-blue ribbons, and a silver baby rattle lay beneath it like a shiny announcement of a beautiful, miraculous future.

His eyes met Liberty’s with horror and heartbreak, and in her eyes he read the truth: Liberty Wentworth was welcoming a baby into her life. That was the real reason she’d returned to Tulips.

What a faithless would-be-bride she’d turned out to be.

Chapter Four

“Duke, wait!” Liberty hurried after him as he strode down the street. Catching his arm, she made him stop so that she could catch her breath. Duke snatched his arm away from her grasp and her heart broke, even more than it had when he’d peeked around the saloon door, his face hopeful and trusting. “Please let me explain.”

“There’s nothing to explain.” He headed for the jailhouse—his sanctuary—but she followed relentlessly.

“If you would just wait a minute, Duke,” she said.

“Obviously, I’ve been waiting too long.”

There was a stitch in her side but she followed him into his office before he could somehow lock her out. She didn’t want to cause more of a scene than they already had, and she knew too well that a few dozen faces were tucked up against the windows of the Tulips Saloon, anxiously peering out. “Duke, can I just explain?”

He turned on her. “Explain that you’re pregnant?” he demanded, his harsh voice tearing in her heart. She’d never seen his eyes so cold. “I don’t think that requires an explanation, Liberty. And I do think I now understand why I wasn’t invited to the shower.”

“It wasn’t really a shower.” It had turned into one, but quite by accident, though she doubted he was in the mood to hear that.

“So, everyone knew but me.” He looked at her, shaking his head in disbelief. “And I guess wearing the wedding gown the other day means you’re marrying that pup who was paying court at your feet.”

She was astonished he would think such a thing. “Duke, that cowboy came with Valentine to help her deliver the cake. I didn’t know that Pansy and Helen had ordered one.” She put a hand on his arm. “Please hear me out. This has all gotten way out of hand.”

“I don’t want to listen,” Duke said, and Liberty recognized the strong Duke, the one with all the stubborn opinions, marching in to stiffen his spine and his resolve. There’d be no talking to him now.

“Just go on,” he told Liberty. “I can’t take any more drama. Honestly. In fact, I think I’ll let all of you schemers have my sheriff’s seat. I’ve got a hankering to live in the tropics around some beautiful beauties who just want to feed me pineapples all day.”

Liberty blinked. Now was not the time to tell him, she realized with a pang. As mad as he was now, the truth would fall on dry, hard soil.

“But congratulations. I guess,” he said.

She sat on his desk. “You’re going to have to listen.”

“Ah. A prisoner in my own jail. I don’t think I do have to listen.” He reclined in the old cracked leather chair, putting his boots up on the desk and covering his face with his hat.

“Duke,” Liberty said, irritated, “this isn’t easy for me.”

He was silent.

“Must you be a troll?”

She thought she heard snoring.

She did hear snoring. His chest fell with rhythmic breathing, and she knew he really had nodded off, just like that, out of sheer determination to shut her out. “You’re the daddy,” she said softly, just to try out the words.

Not a hitch in those z’s. Rip Van Winkle wasn’t about to be disturbed by some climactic pronouncement.

She wanted to cry but all of her tears had been squeezed out of her long ago. Being strong didn’t mean a woman couldn’t cry, but it did mean she usually had better things to do with her time, so Liberty left Duke in his state of slumber and departed.

It was very still across the street, as if the Tulips Saloon was waiting for life to be breathed back into it. Liberty straightened her shoulders and walked through the pretty, stained-glass doors.

All her friends sat at tables, waiting to see whether she would need comforting or if wedding bells would finally ring. Sadness and a bit of embarrassment clutched at her. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I couldn’t tell him.”

He wouldn’t listen was more the truth, but it didn’t seem fair to air every piece of their dirty laundry.

Pansy opened her arms, and Liberty rushed into them, squeezing her eyes tightly shut so that she wouldn’t see Duke’s face, so crestfallen when he realized his own town had left him out-and it was all because of Liberty.

“YOU COULDN’T HAVE BEEN more of a pissant if you’d tried, Duke,” Pepper said to her older brother late that afternoon when he slunk home, tired despite his nap. Duke glanced at her, then at Zach, with some surprise. Pepper was lying out in a bikini around the pool, soaking up some waning September sunshine after being up north so long, and Zach was coiling up a hose he’d been using to water the plants around the patio.

“Just let it drop,” Duke commanded, unwilling to talk to anyone about what had happened. He had no idea what his brother’s and sister’s roles had been in today’s drama, but what he did know was that they, and most of the town, were on Liberty’s side.

Damned if he knew why.

Zach shrugged, not about to throw any weight on his side of the sinking ship to save him, Duke realized. There would be no peace in his house until they’d had their say, obviously. “Spit out all the opinions you want, and then the matter’s closed,” he stated, feeling angry that his own siblings were against him. Who could you count on if not family?

With a sigh, Pepper went back to reading a magazine. It was a medical journal, Duke saw as she defiantly flipped pages. Zach went inside, abandoning the whole family council process.

Though Duke should have felt relief, the silent treatment just brought him more anxiety. Shouldn’t someone recognize that he wasn’t the enemy?

Of course, it wasn’t often that Pepper was put out with him. For as long as he could remember, he and his siblings had been tight as ticks.

Liberty had been the one knot in the tight rope of their existence. As a child, she’d sneaked across the small ravine, deftly climbing the barbed-wire fence of their property and playing pranks on them. It had been like having their own personal, mischief-making elf. Milk would disappear. Pots would be rearranged on the patio. A cow would be wearing a bow around its neck at Christmas. Once she’d put firecrackers in their mailbox. Small ones, of course, but it had gotten their attention.

And then they’d laid a trap for her, figuring to put a stop to the antics of the Wentworth waif. One Christmas Eve night, they put candy canes all along the patio leading to the front door, a colorful sugar trail designed to catch a child who was doubling their chores with her mischief. As they sat at the family Christmas table, laden with home-cooked food and covered with fine linen, they innocently waited to see if they’d have a visitor.

When they heard the cowbell clang and the bucket release its four gallons of water, they knew they had her and went gleefully dashing from the table.

Liberty had been standing on the porch, soaking wet, caught in the act of staring in the window at them before taking off at a run. Their mother, coming up behind them, had seen the two handprints she’d left against the window as she’d peered in, and it wasn’t Liberty who got in trouble that night. Their father had given Duke, Zach and Pepper such a talking to, and then their mother had marched them over to the Wentworths to apologize to Liberty and her parents.

What they’d seen in the Wentworth home had surprised them. There was no Christmas table adorned with glowing candles and laden with home-cooked food. No decorations. Mr. and Mrs. Wentworth sat in front of a fire, each reading a book, completely unaware that their daughter had been gone at all, and apparently disinterested that it was Christmas Eve.

But what Duke never forgot was the look in Liberty’s eyes as she stared at his mother—it was the hungry look of a child who desperately wanted the attention his mother was giving her. His mother toweled off Liberty and then handed her the strand of candy canes they’d used as bait. Not only that, she went back and retrieved the presents he and his siblings were supposed to get for Christmas that year and gave them to Liberty.

He’d resented that, until he saw those three toys in Mr. Parsons’s pawnshop window and realized Liberty had never even gotten to play with them.

From that day forward, she was one of them. She ate at their table for meals, and she walked to school with them. Zach was her same age so they became the closest, though Pepper had followed Liberty around like fog.

He had tried to hold himself aloof, as he’d been uncertain of her. Thirteen years old, he’d been a jumble of hormones and teenage pride and not sure what to think about the little girl who, once she was cleaned up, stoked some part of his being he hadn’t been aware existed. Oh, the girls chased him, and he ignored them for the most part, because he’d been interested in football and baseball and rodeo.

But Liberty nagged at him, and he was never quite sure what to do with those confusing feelings. So he ignored her.

But one time he’d come upon her and Zach and Holt in the barn attic, and he was astonished by what he saw. Liberty and Zach had dressed Holt in a costume, an old wrangler’s outfit for Halloween, and they were busily sewing and stuffing material on him. Holt was the sewing dummy, or whatever one called those things, and they were improvising.

Duke couldn’t even thread a needle, wouldn’t have known how to start, and the jealousy that hit him took him clean by surprise. When Zach wore the costume to the Halloween Ball in town that night, Duke had been positively pea-green.

And he really hadn’t understood why. As costumes went, they all looked fine. Liberty was a bride, Pepper was a witch—not too far off the mark there, he’d thought with brotherly snide-ness—and Holt, who tagged along, was a British punk rocker. Duke wore his football uniform with streaks of grease under his eyes, in no way feeling dressed up at all.

When Zach won “Best Costume” that night, Liberty hugged him with glee and kissed Holt’s cheek, and Duke knew something special had happened he’d been left out of: Liberty’s secret mission.

She was going to design things. And he would be left out, because he had no patience for thread and small stitches and lace, and wouldn’t stand still and be a sewing mannequin.

But Zach and Holt would.

“So are you going to sit there and sigh all day, or are you going to say what’s on your mind?” Duke demanded. “I can tell you’re about to burst with advice.”

“No,” Pepper said, giving him a bland look over her journal. “I’m not.”

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