by Tina Leonard
“Well, hell, yeah,” Bug said. “No man likes change. We’re supposed to be the stable ones. How can we be stable if women are always running around diddling with everything? It’s like lining up the cosmos and then whacking it with a pool cue and sending little balls of change flying everywhere.” He took another drink. “No. A man has enough trouble with a woman, because she for sure brings every kind of upset he’ll ever want to meet into his life. Look at you, for example.”
“Yeah, look at me,” Duke said, feeling glad to be getting some sympathy for once.
“Liberty’s changing you,” Bug said. “You used to be fun.”
“I’m sitting here drinking with you,” Duke said. “How the hell am I not being fun?”
“I don’t know,” Bug said, “you’re just not. Ever since Liberty returned, you’ve been a pain in the ass. In fact, I think the ladies voted to give you a vacation.”
Duke wrinkled his forehead and moved his hat under his head to a more comfortable position. “What kind of vacation?”
“Something about a permanent vacation,” Bug said, “but I wasn’t listening.”
“I don’t care,” Duke said. “Not anymore. It would be the change I need.” He closed his eyes. “See, I can change just fine.”
“Well, I don’t know about that,” Bug said. “Change is no good.” After a moment, he let out a soft snore. Duke took a deep breath, wishing he was with Liberty instead of babysitting Bug. Liberty was softer, she smelled good and he didn’t think she snored. But even if she did, he wouldn’t give a damn as long as he could sleep with her every night.
“Duke Forrester!” he heard suddenly. He sat up, confused, staring up into the sun.
After his eyes adjusted, he realized Pansy and Helen were standing in front of him, their little hands on their hips, staring at him as if he were the greatest disappointment they’d ever seen.
“Yes, ma’am? Ma’ams?”
Beside him, Bug sat up, too, and rubbed his eyes. “What’s going on? This is my quiet time, damn it!”
“Bug, you got Duke drunk!” Helen accused.
“I did not!” Bug said. “He invited himself along!”
Duke got to his feet. “How did you find us?”
“Mr. Parsons told us where you’d gone and with what,” Pansy said, her tone gently reproving. “Honestly, Duke, this isn’t how you plan to act when you become a father, is it?”
“Bug Carmine, don’t you dare teach Duke your bad habit,” Helen demanded. “Going off like that is just plain irresponsible!”
“I had time on my hands,” Duke said. “Liberty went to Dallas. I was trying to get my mind off it.” He didn’t say that he thought he was doing the right thing by keeping an eye on Bug because he didn’t want to bring any wrath on the elderly man.
“I was just trying to keep him from thinking about Liberty,” Bug said. “Lord, he just about talked my ear off about her the entire time we’ve been here. I could barely get any rest at all.”
“Rest?” Helen said. “Bug, if you get any more rested, you’re likely to stay asleep for good.”
Pansy sniffed. “Let’s go, Helen. Duke obviously doesn’t need our help after all.”
“Help?” Duke began tagging along after the ladies—escorting them to their vehicle, he told himself—feeling no reason to be loyal and hang back with Bug the Rat. Sometimes brotherhood and the bachelor life weren’t what they were cracked up to be. “What kind of help?”
“Help with Liberty,” Pansy said, her little mouth drawn up into a bow of disapproval that she mostly reserved for Bug. Then she brightened. “Though we remind you that it’s taking a chance because we don’t think our ratio of success in giving advice is all that it could be. But we have a plan. You might call it a recipe.”
“But first you’d have to be willing to change,” Helen said, and Duke knew he had reached the point of no return.
It was now or never.
Chapter Ten
Liberty drove back from Dallas, feeling satisfied with the results of her wedding gown project. It had fit her customer perfectly, and the young girl was ecstatic and grateful. That was the way a wedding gown should make a woman feel, and as she parked and walked inside her house, Liberty knew she’d discovered what had been bothering her.
She hadn’t felt ecstatic about the idea of marrying Duke. The exact wording of the problem had eluded her until now, but the fact was, once she’d given in to the fear, she’d erased all the sensations of joy that should surround the holy blessing of marriage.
It wasn’t Duke’s fault. It was hers. She was the one who didn’t recognize at first that being with a man with such an unyielding idea of what a woman should be would be too much for her to live with for the rest of her life. Rubbing her stomach, Liberty went inside, waiting for the cramps to pass. Pansy and Helen had said maybe the cramps were Braxton-Hicks contractions, or maybe baby-growing pains, but they thought she should make an appointment with her doctor. She had, though she hadn’t informed Duke.
She knew that he would move right in with her if he even half suspected she might be having problems. And if he knew she was just the teensiest bit apprehensive about her pregnancy, Liberty knew he’d be right by her side.
Actually, that sounded wonderful in a way. Heavenly. One thing about Duke that she could never resist was his undying loyalty, and his shirt-off-my-back generosity. He was one of the most unselfish people she had ever met.
He was so much like his parents in that regard. Liberty went into the kitchen, finding a message on her answering machine. She pressed Play.
“Liberty,” Pansy’s voice said, “call me. Helen and I want to talk to you about a little plan we’ve been mulling over.”
Liberty smiled. Those two ladies were her best friends, and they were always into something, which made them fun. All her life she’d ached for the love of a mother’s attention, and when those two had decided to make a case of her, she had never lacked for friendship again.
Except Duke’s, of course, but that had been her own choosing.
“WE DIDN’T MEAN TO BE harsh on you earlier,” Helen said as she, Duke and Pansy sat in the Tulips Saloon. After making certain Bug was safely home—he’d thrown his bottle away, claiming that Duke had completely ruined the experience for him—the three of them had gone to the saloon. It was the best place for what they had to say, Helen had claimed, and Duke had to admit he felt pretty happy about getting his own private invitation into their world. All of that barging in was starting to get tiring.
“We didn’t mean to send you away without being helpful,” Pansy said. “It’s just that these days we’ve lost confidence in our ability to be helpful the way we want to be.”
Duke sat on the velvet-covered antique chair he’d been assigned and gratefully accepted the lavender tea Pansy gave him. Okay, it was a bit sweet for his black-coffee-loving soul. Yet he craved the warmth these women brought to his life. He took a big swig. “Better than Bug’s juice,” he said, reaping a smile of approval from Helen. “Frankly, I think the only people on this planet who can help me with Liberty are you two.”
“Well,” Helen said, sitting across from him, “this is a recipe.” She pulled a paper from her purse.
“Oh.” He set his delicate teacup down on the pie table next to him. “I don’t cook.”
“You have to change,” Pansy said.
Duke raised his eyebrows. “Cooking will help me convince Liberty that I’m the only man for her?”
“No,” Helen said, “but unless you change, you’ll have to forget about her.”
“I can change,” Duke said. “Give me a pot or a pan.”
The ladies smiled. “This isn’t an ordinary recipe we’re giving you,” Helen said. “You’ll have to be very careful with the ingredients.”
He frowned. Were they trying to work him into a corral? They were tricky ladies and there had been an undeclared war between Duke and them for the past couple of years. They’d been known to spring a tra
p or two on him, all in the spirit of fun. He gazed at each of them in turn and decided that this time it seemed they had his interest in mind. “All right. I can be careful.”
“Very gentle,” Pansy said. “No bull in a china shop.”
“I really don’t try to be,” Duke said, his feelings a trifle hurt. “I can’t help that I’m big, and strong, and—”
“Yes, yes,” Helen said, as he began to warm to his favorite subject. “But still a man must be very gentle, Duke. We’re all aware of your manly attributes. We think you’re a fine sheriff.”
“Well, that’s the first time you’ve said that,” he said, allowing himself a slight grumble at their expense.
“But we want you to work on your feminine side,” Pansy said.
He blinked. “Look, I like Holt as much as you do, he’s like a brother, but I can’t move very far away from my side of the fence.”
“You have this all wrong,” Helen said. “Which means we have a lot of work to do if you want to get your girl. And I don’t know that you can,” she said with a sniff. “This is all quite dicey.”
“I think he’s had enough for today,” Pansy said. “Why don’t we just give him the recipe and allow him to digest the ingredients on his own. Then if he has any questions, he can come ask us.”
Helen looked at him for a long time. He felt strangely, as if he’d failed his old and gentle friends. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I do love Liberty. I’d give her the moon. But there’s only so many tricks this old dog can learn.”
Helen and Pansy looked at each other for a moment. Silently, Helen handed Duke a sealed envelope. “We love you, Duke,” she said. “We hope you can work it out.”
He had fallen short of the mark, been dismissed from this hen session. Sadly, Duke rose. “Thank you,” he said, giving them both a hug. “I love you both.”
Putting his envelope in his pocket, he left. He’d had a little Bug advice and now a little Helen-Pansy time, and he should be feeling as if he had this Liberty problem in hand.
Yet he felt as if he were further than ever from getting his lady to the altar.
“YOU SEE, DEAR,” Helen said to Liberty as they sat in her parlor, “we think change is a wonderful component in a person’s life.”
“Yes,” Pansy said, “like sewing a different color of sequins on a gown. It can make all the difference in the world, don’t you agree?”
“I do,” Liberty said. “Change can be positive.”
Helen smiled. “We were hoping you’d feel that way.”
“Oh?” Liberty took some cookies from a bag and laid them on a plate. “These aren’t homemade—”
“They’re fine,” Pansy said, taking one and placing it on a china saucer. “We brought you a recipe.”
“A recipe?” Liberty asked. “I thought we were talking about change.”
“We are, dear,” Helen said. “That’s what this recipe is for.”
She handed her a pretty envelope and Liberty smiled. “You’re trying to get me to take back Duke.”
“Yes, dear,” Pansy said, quite unashamed. “We think perhaps you’re going about catching that cowboy all wrong.”
“Yes,” Helen said, “we want you to be happy. And all this drama is upsetting the equilibrium of Tulips. Tulips, you know, is always our greatest concern.”
“But Duke and I are not right for each other.” Liberty looked at them. “We’d end up like Bug and Mrs. Carmine. He’d regret marrying me. I know he would. Duke is the impenetrable rock, and I’m more like water.”
“Yes,” Helen said, “but what if Duke made a wee adjustment?”
“I’m not trying to change him,” Liberty said. “I want him to be happy. That’s why I left him.”
“The only way he’s ever going to be happy is with you,” Pansy told her kindly. “He’s tried everything to make you happy, from leaving you be, to pestering you, but we think there’s another way. If you take the first step, it would probably start a chain reaction.”
“I don’t know,” Liberty said, thinking about ecstatic happiness. “Shouldn’t it be easier than that?”
“Only in Hollywood,” Helen told her.
“Be brave,” Pansy said. “You’re a go-getter type of girl. Get your man, for heaven’s sake!”
Liberty hesitated. “What did you have in mind?”
“A recipe,” Helen said, “in that envelope. We give it to you with one caveat—we could be very wrong about the ingredients.”
“It’s not foolproof, in other words,” Pansy said. “But it’s the best we could come up with.”
“Put like that, I guess I’ll try a new recipe,” Liberty said, and the ladies rose.
“We love you, Liberty,” they said, hugging her. “Are you still having that tiny tummyache?”
“Just slightly,” Liberty said. “Don’t worry about me.”
“We worry all the time,” Pansy said. “That’s sort of what mothers do. If we were your mother, which we’re not, but still we worry like that.”
“Yes, well, come on, Pansy,” Helen said. “Liberty can’t ‘cook’ with us standing here bothering her. Good night, Liberty!”
They left, and Liberty smiled at the pretty envelope. It was on Tulips stationary with the red and hot-pink flowers in abundance, just like the front door of the saloon. Duke had helped them hang that door, and he’d complained every second that it would never stand up to everyday abuse. The colored glass, he said, would eventually get damaged.
But after it was hung, he’d told them it was beautiful. That was Duke, resisting change, and then being big enough to admit someone else was right.
She could change, she decided, putting a hand against her stomach. She had reason to. In her heart, she knew she loved Duke. He would be a wonderful father, too.
Fear was no reason to keep someone out of her life. It wasn’t going to be the way it had been with her parents; there would be no neglect, there would be no waking up one day and finding they’d moved to a faraway place.
Mr. and Mrs. Forrester, who had basically taken her in, would be pleased that she was a true Forrester. She missed them. It was true that after they’d passed away, Duke had become a harder, more self-reliant person. She was drawn to his strength.
She shouldn’t be afraid of loving, or loving him in particular.
She should be ecstatic.
Slowly, she opened the tulips-printed envelope.
DUKE STARED at the recipe. It was written on pretty paper in Pansy’s fine hand, but it was Helen’s spicy title, he was certain.
A Simple Recipe For Winning Your Woman.
“Lovely,” he told Molly-Jimbo as she laid her head on his leg. They sat together companionably in his office. Mr. Parsons was out, though the copper box rested in its corner, Duke noticed. One day he was going to convince the old man to put the box inside a safe somewhere. “Helen says this is a simple recipe, Molly. That sweet lady doesn’t think I can handle anything hard.”
Smiling at their whimsy, he moved his gaze down to the first ingredient.
Step One: Be kind. Romantic. Gentle. Think of days gone by. Try whispering instead of yelling; old movies instead of sex.
“Ugh,” Duke said, “they don’t ask much of a man, do they?”
Molly let out a whoosh of breath but he didn’t think she was agreeing with his sarcasm. Old movies instead of sex! How much change was he supposed to endure? Days gone by? How was a man supposed to be a man—and a sheriff—if he was soft all the time? “Their little tatted doilies have gone to their heads,” Duke said, “like spidery webs of nonsense.”
Was this what Liberty wanted, though? Did they have a point? They were women. Surely women knew what other women wanted. He rubbed at his chin. “I think they’re working me like a dog,” he told Molly, who closed her eyes. “This isn’t the kind of advice I need.” Putting away the recipe, he stood, gazing through the bars of Mr. Parsons’s cell at the copper box.
But being the same bullheaded sheriff hadn’t gott
en him anywhere with the woman he loved, had it? There were lots of things he didn’t know about a lot of people, he decided. And if Liberty wanted romance, then he could certainly give this recipe a shot. And since he was a man of action, he marched toward Liberty’s directly.
A few minutes later, he stood on her porch, took a deep breath and rang the bell.
She opened the door, looking more beautiful than he’d ever seen her. “Hi,” he said, unable to come up with something more creative.
“Come in,” she said. She was dressed in a bathrobe and something delicious-smelling was in the oven. His senses were overwhelmed by all the things he loved about Liberty.
But he hadn’t come there to eat, or even just to gawk at this gorgeous woman. Before he could chicken out, he walked inside the house. “I know I should have called first, but then I’d lose my nerve.”
“Your nerve?” She stared at him. “That’s something I never worry about you losing, Duke.”
Well, she would be very surprised if she knew that his insides were quivering like some of Pansy’s Jell-O molds. “Liberty,” he said, drawing a deep breath, “I…I am looking forward to having a baby with you.”
She didn’t say a word, but he thought he might be going in the right direction since he detected a softening around her eyes. Touching the recipe in his pocket for courage, and careful to keep his tone gentle, he said, “One day maybe we could watch a movie together. Rent one, maybe, one of those oldies but goodies.”
The smile he’d been hoping for bloomed. “That sounds nice, Duke. I’m baking a cake for the ladies. They’ll be here soon to help fit me for a new maternity dress, but I can sneak you a piece of pound cake. If you’d like some.”