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West Texas Nights

Page 37

by Sherryl Woods


  Her heart had climbed into her throat. Her palms had begun to sweat. She’d looked into his eyes and seen what she thought was love shining there. Hope had blossomed deep inside her.

  Then he’d blurted out that he wanted them to have a relationship. What kind of a suggestion was that? She hadn’t been able to hold back the laugh, even though she’d seen right away that she’d hurt him. How on earth was she supposed to get him to the next level? At this rate, they’d both be confined to rocking chairs on the front porch by the time he got around to asking her to marry him.

  “Do you think I should propose to Slade?” she asked idly, while Laurie was rehearsing the last new song for her album.

  Laurie’s nimble fingers strummed a discordant screech on the guitar. “Excuse me?”

  “It wasn’t a trick question. Do you think I should propose to Slade?”

  “Not in a million years,” Laurie said adamantly.

  “Why not?”

  “For starters, it’s the one thing in life that is mostly the man’s prerogative.”

  “Even a man who can’t make up his mind?”

  “Especially a man who can’t make up his mind. Give him time, Val. He’ll come around to the idea all on his own. If he doesn’t, then it wasn’t meant to be. I don’t think it’s smart to try to shove him off this particular cliff before he’s ready.”

  “What if he’s just too scared to spit the words out?”

  “Do you think that’s Slade’s problem?”

  “Honestly, yes. I could have sworn he was going to do it last night, but at the last second he shifted gears and said he wanted us to have a relationship.”

  “That’s progress.”

  “No, it’s not,” Val said impatiently. “That’s what we’ve been doing all along, having a relationship.”

  “Perhaps he meant an intimate relationship.”

  Val considered that. “Could be.” She winced as she thought of the way the light had died in his eyes at her laughter. “I probably shouldn’t have laughed.”

  Laurie groaned. “You didn’t.”

  “Afraid so.”

  “That’ll do a lot to build up his courage.”

  “Which brings me back to why I think I should do the proposing. It’ll take the pressure off.”

  Laurie stared at her intently. “You’re going to do it no matter what I say, aren’t you?”

  Val reached a decision and nodded. “Yes. I think I am.”

  “When?”

  “Tonight,” she said. “I think I’ll take him flowers. Or do you think I should take him a plate of fried chicken? He really likes that.”

  Laurie sighed. “Just don’t take your own engagement ring.”

  Val regarded her indignantly. “I would never do that. Some things the man has to do.”

  “I’m relieved you can see that,” Laurie said wryly. “Let me know how it turns out.”

  To Val’s chagrin, Laurie didn’t exactly sound as if she expected a happy ending.

  * * *

  Slade considered the disaster in the restaurant the night before and wondered how to avoid a repeat. He was tired of this crazy limbo they were in, but for the life of him he couldn’t see a way to end it. He wasn’t the kind of man who knew how to string pretty words together. Just look at the way he’d blurted out that nonsense about wanting a relationship. No wonder she had laughed. He would have been better off if he’d just shown her the engagement ring he’d bought, and hoped she’d get the message.

  He was pretty sure that Val still didn’t believe that this was just between the two of them, that he loved her. He wasn’t sure he had the words to tell her all that was in his heart. He stood in front of the mirror over the mantel and tried to find some eloquent way of expressing it. Once he’d said her name, he choked.

  “Daddy, what are you doing?” Annie said, coming into the room to peer up at him quizzically. “I heard you talking to yourself.”

  His cheeks turned brick red. “Nothing.”

  “You said Val’s name. I heard it.” Her expression filled with sudden understanding. “You’re rehearsing, aren’t you?”

  “Rehearsing what?”

  “A proposal,” she said excitedly. “You’re finally going to ask her to marry you. I found the ring in your pocket and I’ve been waiting and waiting. What’s taking so long?”

  “There’s a lot to think about.”

  “Well, just do it. It can’t be that hard.”

  “That’s easy for you to say. I tried it last night and blew it.”

  Annie’s eyes widened. “You did? What did you say?”

  “Never mind. Let’s just say that I didn’t get it right.”

  “Okay, here’s what we’ll do,” she said decisively. “I’ll tell you what to say.”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “Why not? You’ve got to get it right this time, Daddy. It could be our last chance.”

  She ran off for a piece of paper and a pencil. Then she laid out a romantic spiel that even he had to admit was better than anything he’d come up with. When he’d finished reading it to himself, she gestured for him to get down on one knee.

  “You say it,” she said, in the imperious manner of a director determined to coach great theater out of an amateur.

  “I feel ridiculous,” he told his daughter. “I cannot get down on one knee and say this stuff, especially not to my own daughter.”

  “I’m not Annie now. I’m Val. Besides, you want her to say yes, don’t you?” the ten-year-old matchmaker asked. “Just pretend you’re gazing real deep into Val’s eyes and say it.”

  Slade felt like an idiot. He drew in a deep breath and forced himself to read from the paper Annie had given him. “Val, I know I don’t have much of a way with words, but you mean the world to me. I never thought I’d fall in love again, but you made it easy. You opened your heart and let me in.”

  “Us,” Annie corrected. “She let us in.” She pointed to the page. “See, that’s what I wrote.”

  “This is my proposal, squirt. You can make your own, if you think mine’s not good enough.”

  Annie rolled her eyes. “Daddy, kids don’t ask people to marry them. Say it again.”

  This time Slade managed to get most of the words out without faltering before he realized that the intended bride was actually standing in the doorway, openmouthed and holding a bouquet of flowers in one hand and a foil-covered plate of what smelled like fried chicken in the other. He awkwardly got to his feet, cursing his gimpy leg.

  “Guess I stole my own thunder, didn’t I?” he asked, gazing into her eyes, which were shimmering with tears. He wished to hell he were better at reading the distinction between happy tears and sad ones. If he lived to be a hundred, he didn’t think he’d get it.

  The plate wobbled and he grabbed for it. Once it was safely on the table, he said, “I’ve got a ring around here somewhere, if you’d like me to try it again.”

  Annie ran off. When she came back, she slipped the ring into his hand, then vanished, though he suspected she hadn’t gone out of earshot.

  “What you said before—did you mean it?” Val asked.

  “That I love you? Yes, Val, I do love you,” he said softly. “Annie may have done the coaching, but the sentiments are all mine. I’m sorry it took me so long to recognize the feelings for what they were. I’m sorrier still that it took me so long to tell you.”

  Her gaze, brimming with more tears, searched his face. “You’re sure about that? You’re absolutely sure you love me, that you’re not being forced into saying this by your daughter?”

  “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life. Will you marry me?”

  “Us,” Annie hissed from just outside.

  Val chuckled at the intrusion. “Anybody who’d take the two of you on must like living dangero
usly.”

  “I have it on the best authority that you do,” he pointed out. “Why else would a born-and-bred city slicker turn in her heels for a pair of boots?”

  A smile spread slowly across her face and he knew then that it was going to be all right.

  “Yes,” she said, moving into his arms. “Yes, I will marry you.”

  As her arms came around his neck, the bouquet fell to the floor, strewing it with rose petals.

  After he’d kissed her thoroughly and slipped the ring on her finger, he stood back and studied her face. “So what was with the flowers and the food?”

  She blushed furiously. “Oh, just a little peace offering.”

  Slade didn’t believe it for a minute. “Val?”

  “I think it’s better if we just leave it at that,” she insisted, kissing him in a blatant effort to distract him.

  It might have worked, too, if it hadn’t been for that guilty gleam in her eyes. Suddenly he knew. “You were going to propose, weren’t you?”

  “Never,” she said, as if shocked by the idea.

  “You were.”

  “I was not.”

  “I would have said yes,” he teased. “But you already knew that, didn’t you?”

  “Okay, I was hoping,” she admitted finally. She touched a finger to his lips. “But I’m so glad you said the words first. I’d have hated telling our grandchildren that I had to talk their granddaddy into marrying me.”

  “What grandchildren?” Annie demanded, coming out from hiding. “All you’ve got is me.”

  “Believe me,” Slade said, ruffling her hair, “you are the best start to our family we could possibly have.”

  “Start?” Val mouthed.

  “I figure a couple more wouldn’t hurt. Now that I’m getting the hang of this fatherhood thing, I’d like to put it to use.”

  “No boys,” Annie insisted. “I want sisters.”

  “I’m not sure you’ll have any say in the matter,” Slade informed her. “Mother Nature has her own way of deciding what’s right.”

  “Well, if I can’t pick sisters, can I at least pick when the wedding’s going to be?”

  Val grinned at her enthusiasm. “What did you have in mind?”

  “Christmas,” she said at once.

  “Why Christmas?” Slade asked.

  “Because it’s still a long ways away and you can’t get married till my hair grows out. I ain’t looking like a boy in all the pictures.”

  Slade and Val exchanged a glance.

  “I think a Christmas wedding sounds just about perfect,” Val said, eyes shining.

  “It’s one way to guarantee I won’t forget our anniversary.” Slade teased.

  “Oh, Daddy,” Annie moaned. “That’s not romantic.”

  “No,” Val agreed. “Your father could use a little help in that regard.” She winked at him. “But we’re working on it.”

  * * *

  Slade Sutton and Val Harding had a Christmas wedding that was perfect down to the last detail. Val saw to it with her usual brisk efficiency. Or would have if she hadn’t been such a nervous wreck. A very pregnant Laurie picked up the slack and saw to it that nothing was overlooked.

  The church was the same one where generations of Adamses had been married. Already decorated for the season, it was filled with white poinsettias and lit by candles for the evening ceremony.

  The bride wore white satin and very high heels, even though no one could see just what they did for her legs. She knew from experience that Slade’s imagination was vivid enough to get the picture. She figured one glimpse of those heels and he’d haul her off on their honeymoon even before they cut the cake.

  The groom wore a Western-cut tuxedo.

  The maid of honor was resplendent in a green velvet gown she insisted made her look like a very ripe watermelon. The best man thought otherwise. He thought she was the most beautiful pregnant woman he had ever seen.

  And the bridesmaid—to everyone’s astonishment—wore a red velvet dress trimmed in satin, and had her hair fixed up in curls. To her amazement everyone said she was the prettiest girl in the church.

  She knew better, though. Annie knew the prettiest woman there was her new mom.

  * * *

  #1 New York Times bestselling author Sherryl Woods takes readers to her world of strong friendships and heartfelt emotions in her Sweet Magnolias series.

  Now a Netflix original series!

  STEALING HOME

  A SLICE OF HEAVEN

  FEELS LIKE FAMILY

  Order your copies today from MIRA!

  ISBN-13: 9781488075711

  West Texas Nights

  Copyright © 2020 by Harlequin Books S.A.

  The Cowboy and His Wayward Bride

  First published in 1999. This edition published in 2020.

  Copyright © 1999 by Sherryl Woods

  Suddenly, Annie’s Father

  First published in 1999. This edition published in 2020.

  Copyright © 1999 by Sherryl Woods

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

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