Now Cole resolutely pushed his memories away and looked around for Tom McKay. The tables were filling up. The room was crowded with people. Tom had purchased a whole table for the event and had even tried to get Sam to come as well, but of course Sam had declined.
It was fine to bully his son into attending, but God forbid he should get duded up himself and put in an appearance.
“It makes him uncomfortable,” Em had offered as an excuse.
Cole knew the feeling. He didn’t like crowds much himself. But his dad had become more and more anti-social over the years. Rumor had it that Sam hadn’t always been a hermit. When Sadie’s mother had been there, the two of them had occasionally gone out.
Not enough, apparently, because before Sadie turned two Lucy had left, had gone back to waitressing in Vegas, telling Sam she couldn’t stand the silence. Since then Sam had foregone sociability entirely.
Em said, “That’s just the way he is,” and since his heart attack, Sam’d had an excuse for staying home. No one wanted to be the one who provoked another heart attack, so no one pushed him to do anything.
“Ah, Cole! There you are!” Tom McKay came through a crowd, a smile on his face, a hand outstretched. “Glad you could make it.” His smile widened as they shook hands. “Come meet my daughter.” He smiled. “She’ll appreciate the hat.”
Lacey McKay did appreciate the hat. She was a tall, slender girl, with a riot of red curls that might once have been tamed, but probably not in recent memory. At least Cole couldn’t imagine she’d done her hair that way on purpose. She confirmed his suspicion a moment later, confiding, “I love hats.” She twisted her fingers in her unruly curls and tugged at them. “They cover a multitude of disasters.”
Cole nodded, liking her in spite of his misgivings about the evening. “They do.”
Two years ago when he’d been bucked off a bronc at the Wilsall Rodeo and cracked his head on a fence rail, no one had ever known—except Nell—because she’d brought him home. He’d used his hat to cover the gash.
“You should get stitches,” Nell had advised, crouching down next to him once they’d dragged him out of the arena. She’d been so close he could smell a fragrance of cinnamon and citrus on her.
“A kiss will make it better,” he’d told her muzzily, still managing to give her his best come-on grin.
“You think?” Her words had been gentle, but dry.
They had only met that afternoon, and Cole didn’t ordinarily proposition women the instant he met them. But with Nell it was different, he’d been attracted from the moment he’d laid eyes on her. And he had been trying to figure out how to get a kiss ever since.
In fact it was probably why he’d bucked off—because he’d caught sight of Nell with her small digital camera trained on him just as he bucked out of the chute.
Sitting next to him in the dirt behind the chutes, she had looked no less desirable, though definitely doubtful. But then her dark eyes had sparkled with amusement. “If you say so.” And, to his amazement, she rose up on her knees, bent forward and kissed him.
Not on the lips. Not where he’d wanted the touch of her lips. But on the side of top of his head where blood had matted his hair, where a Mount Everest of a goose egg was forming, Cole felt the barest touch. It sent a shiver of longing straight through him. Instinctively he had closed his eyes, the more to savor it.
“Better all ready,” he’d murmured, then opened his eyes a fraction. “Better yet if I could kiss you.”
His buddies had hooted with laughter. “That line work for you, Cole?” Dane had chortled.
It had, yes. With Nell. Not then. Not that night. That night he’d been concussed.
But later...
“—going to start.”
“Huh?” Cole jerked back to the moment to blink at the pert redheaded girl looking at him with a quizzical smile. Lacey. Lacey McKay. “Sorry. I—” He stumbled over the words, cursing himself for his distractibility. There was no way to explain. So he just shook his head, said sorry again and made one more attempt to muster enough brain cells to stay in the moment.
“I was just saying I think we should sit down,” Lacey suggested. “They’re getting ready to start.”
Looking around now, Cole could see Troy at the main table being lectured by the formidable Jane. His buddy didn’t seem to mind. He was nodding, but he didn’t seem to be paying attention to anything she said. His head was inclined toward Jane, but his attention was focused entirely on the woman standing next to him. Cole noted that Troy’s fingers wrapped her wrist.
She looked vaguely familiar and quietly beautiful. Wholesome, his grandmother would have said. Not a mover and shaker like Jane, Cole guessed, but steady and deep. As Cole watched, Troy let go of her wrist, but only so he could slide an arm around her.
Interesting. And possessive. Not Troy’s usual style, Cole mused.
Giving speeches wasn’t Troy’s style, either. He was a get-it-done guy, not a talker. So Cole was relieved on his behalf when Jane did most of the talking. She praised the Hotel, called it the Showpiece of Marietta, and thanked Troy for the faith he’d showed in the community by his commitment to bringing the Graff alive again. And then she did a neat segue into a short speech about the Great Wedding Giveaway.
She talked briefly about the original contest a hundred years ago, then made a few comments about the range of contestants in this one. Couples from seventeen states had entered, she said. Not to mention two foreign countries. They had received nation-wide publicity on a number of human interest talk shows. Several articles had already showcased the event, and a television company had even expressed interest in tying one of their reality TV shows into the contest.
“Do you know anybody in the drawing?” Lacey asked after Jane finished, and they turned their attention to the elegant meal.
Cole shook his head. “Mystery to me.” And not one he was particularly interested in pursuing. It would be good for the town, they said. It would bring in business, put it on the tourist destination map, though frankly he couldn’t imagine why anyone would bother. But maybe, he acknowledged to himself, that was because he had other worries, more personal and immediate ones, like the second mortgage his old man had taken out on the ranch just last year, without a word to anyone.
No one might have known even yet, Cole reflected now, if Sam hadn’t had another heart attack last spring and needed his son to pick up the slack.
“Well, I think the whole thing sounds like great fun,” Lacey said now. “The wedding,” she clarified when Cole looked blank.
“Oh, right.” Not given to hoopla—too much Sam’s son, Cole supposed—it all sounded appalling to him. He didn’t know much about it. All he knew he’d heard from Sadie who had written some ads for it in the Bozeman paper and had done some promotion as a marketing project for a course at MSU. Ever the optimist, Sadie swore it was going to be a great success. “Best thing that will ever happen,” she’d predicted, “for the town and for us.”
God forbid, Cole had thought. Surely there had to be something better in store for the old town—and for the McCulloughs.
“I’d like to get married here,” Lacey said brightly.
Cole paused, his fork halfway to his mouth. “Married?” he said cautiously. Had the old man been setting him up after all?
Lacey, seeing his expression and interpreting it correctly, laughed. “That’s not a proposal, just an observation. My dad has told me so much about growing up here, I felt like I was coming home the minute we landed in Bozeman. And here—” she gave a small wave of her hand “—in Marietta, everything feels just right.”
Cole nodded. He supposed Marietta could look that way to someone who didn’t have a stake in it. Or to a kid, he amended, remembering how much he’d loved growing up here. It was just being an adult—having to make things work—that set his teeth on edge.
“Maybe if you’re from here, you feel differently,” Lacey ventured. “Don’t you like it?”
“
I like it fine.” The words were barely out of his mouth when he heard the gruffness in them. He grimaced. “I’m sorry. It’s been a long day. An ornery bull.” And a host of memories he could have done without. But none of that was Lacey McKay’s fault. “Marietta’s a great place,” he said with a determined smile and all the enthusiasm he could muster.
“Yes, it is.” She took another bite, chewed and swallowed, then said firmly, “Thank you for coming tonight. I know you came because my dad asked you to,” she added a little stiltedly after a moment.
“I was happy to come.” Well, maybe that was stretching things bit. But his reluctance wasn’t her fault either. “I like your dad. It’s nice to meet you. And,” he admitted, “I was curious about the hotel. I never really thought Troy could pull it off.”
Lacey’s smile returned, looking genuine now. “It’s an amazing place. I saw photos of it on television—one of those human interest talk shows, you know, because one of those reality shows is setting a couple of episodes here.” She laughed. “That’s not why I wanted to come,” she assured him. “It’s because it means so much to Dad and, finally, I could.”
That was when Cole remembered that Tom McKay’s daughter had been sick much of her life. He didn’t know all the details, just that it had been serious. Something to do with her liver or maybe her heart. He didn’t know which. He only knew she looked healthy now, though perhaps a bit on the thin side.
“You’re okay now?” he asked.
Lacey nodded emphatically. “All better,” she said with considerable satisfaction as she cut into her prime rib. “Amazing what surgery, when they finally perfect it, can do. I have a real future now, and I’m just eager to get out and actually have a life, do different things, meet different people.”
“Like real live cowboys?” Cole gave her a faint grin.
Lacey matched it, nodding enthusiastically. “Exactly.”
Cole shook his head. “Can’t see the appeal myself.”
“Because you are one. It’s no mystery to you. Everyone likes the novel, the unknown. It’s fascinating, don’t you think?”
Cole couldn’t disagree. Nell had been a novelty in his life, that was for sure. He knew ranch people, small town folks. The only time he hadn’t lived right here was the year he’d gone rodeoing with Dane and Brian and Levi. And while that had certainly been different, the people he’d met were much the same as the ones he spent his life around. He’d never met a woman like Nell, born halfway across the world, raised in half a dozen university communities, a student of languages and the arts, someone who was getting her master’s degree from a California film school.
He was sure he’d been a novelty to her, too. He wondered again what she would think of the Graff, of the Valentine’s Ball, of the Great Wedding Giveaway. A woman who’d seen as much of the world as Nell would probably think they were small potatoes. But to be fair, she had loved the Wilsall Rodeo. She would probably think the Wedding Giveaway was charming. Certainly she’d take it all in stride. She was far worldlier than he was.
He chewed thoughtfully and finally answered Lacey’s question. “Maybe. But finding something appealing and living with it day in, day out, are two different things.”
She smiled. “So you’re saying I shouldn’t pin my hopes on marrying a cowboy?”
“Don’t recommend it,” Cole concurred.
“Too bad. I kind of like the hat and the boots and the ‘aw, shucks, ma’am’ attitude.” She was smiling, inviting him to smile, too.
And he did, but his face got warm remembering that night in Reno when Nell had said pretty much the same thing. She’d been teasing, too, her eyes sparkling impishly as she had surveyed his unclothed body on the rumpled bed and mused, “I kind of like you without the hat and boots—and everything else—too.”
Now the memory made Cole swallow hard and shift in his chair. He let his breath whistle out slowly through his teeth. He had to stop this, had to quit thinking about her. He stabbed his beef with more force than necessary, then determinedly he changed the subject.
“So what are you going to do when you leave here?” He turned his head to look straight at her, hoping that by forcing himself to focus on the woman he was with, he could banish the one stuck in his head.
“I’m not sure I am leaving,” Lacey said, surprising him. “I told you, I like it here.”
“Yes, but—”
“It’s elemental, the climate, the environment. Harsh maybe. That’s what Daddy would say. He worries. He says to take it slow. But I’m tired of being a hothouse flower. I want a little challenge. Or maybe a lot. I’m thinking about renting a place in town, looking for a job in Marietta.”
Cole’s brows lifted. “What sort of job?”
“I don’t know. What can you do in Marietta with a double major in archaeology and ancient languages?”
His lips quirked. “Wash dishes?”
Lacey laughed, then wrinkled her nose. “That’s what I was afraid of. In other words, I’m useless. Except for washing dishes. Well, maybe I should.” She shrugged with more equanimity than Cole would have expected. “It might be a good place to start.”
Instinctively he shook his head. “Don’t sell yourself short.” Cole was adamant about that. “You’ve got an education. You should use it. Don’t waste it doing something anybody can do. You don’t want to bury yourself here!”
Her eyes widened at his vehemence. “Is that what you’re doing?”
His shoulders felt oddly tense as he shook his head. “I was born here. My dad and granddad were born here. I belong here. It’s in the blood.”
“So the rest of us are what? Outsiders forever?” Lacey’s brows arched indignantly and Cole realized he was arguing with the woman in his head, not the one looking askance at him now.
“Of course not. It’s just—” But he wasn’t sure he could explain it. And anyway, the band was making noises. Any minute now they’d begin to play, and, Cole dared to hope, maybe Lacey would dance and save him from further conversation.
He took a breath and tried one last time. “I’m just saying it’s not an easy life. More than that, it’s a narrow life. There are not a lot of options in Marietta. Oh, Troy’s hotel is bringing some variety in. But lots of folks who think they’ll like it, they actually go stir crazy here.” His mother, for example. And Sadie’s. “People think it’s romantic.” He shook his head emphatically. “It’s not.”
Lacey gave him a faint smile. “Be still my beating heart.”
Cole grimaced and shrugged his shoulders. “Sorry. Not what you wanted to hear.”
“No,” she admitted. “But maybe what I should hear,” Lacey sighed. “My dad would thank you. And I have to admit that making plans is easier before they have to be realistic.” She twisted a lock of hair around her finger. “It was lots easier when my real live cowboy was just hat and boots and an ‘aw shucks, ma’am’ grin.” So, she got the point even if she didn’t want to.
Cole smiled. “I just don’t want you makin’ a mistake,” he said now. He should have been as firm with Nell, should have said marriage was out of the question.
“Heaven forbid that I should ever make a mistake.” Lacey’s eyes twinkled, and Cole thought she probably intended to pay no more attention to him than Nell had. It wasn’t a matter of being firm with her, he realized now. He should have been a hell of a lot more firm with himself. His jaw tightened again.
“If I promise to go away and forget Marietta,” Lacey said now, tilting her head, her curls bouncing as she smiled at him, “will you dance with me first? Or is that another myth—that real live cowboys can dance?”
“This one can,” Cole assured her, grateful for the reprieve. He stood up, smiled, and held out his hand to her. “May I have this dance, Ms. McKay?”
The music was already starting as she stood and he drew her into his arms. She was taller than Nell. Her nose was nearly on a level with his. She could look straight into his eyes. She came willingly, settling into his arms and
smiling at him.
Ruefully Cole smiled back. “Don’t mind me,” he told her as he waltzed her across the floor. “It’s the end of a long week and I’m just a bad-tempered son-of-a-gun.”
“With an ‘aw shucks’ grin.” Lacey flashed her dimples at him.
He couldn’t help giving her one. But dancing with her wasn’t like dancing with Nell. He’d danced with Nell only one night in Reno, but it felt as if they had danced together forever. The way she had nestled into his arms, it felt as if she were coming home. Her body had fit snug against his, her heart beating in time with his. Her heavy thick dark golden hair, a mixture of silk and sunshine, had brushed his jaw, tempting him to bury his face in it, to breathe in the scent of her.
“We belong together.” She had even said the words. And then she had turned her head to look up at him with those deep brown eyes of hers, and their lips had touched.
Cole swallowed a groan and mustered a smile at the same time, trying to pay attention to what Lacey McKay was saying. She was a nice girl. She meant well. It wasn’t her fault he couldn’t get Nell out of his mind.
The dance floor was getting more crowded. His shoulder brushed someone else’s and with a murmured apology, Cole pulled Lacey closer and turned them away. But she didn’t fit him the way Nell had. Instead of the smooth gold and scent of citrus he got with Nell, now he had spice and a face full of riotous red curls.
“Well, damn,” he said with a grin, and turned his head to gaze out over her shoulder—straight into a pair of shocked eyes. Deep brown eyes. They widened just above the shoulder of her tall, tuxedo-clad partner, colliding with Cole’s, stopping him dead.
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