Gettin' Lucky (Love and Laughter)

by Raye, Kimberly

  “That’s even more perfect,” Bennie declared. “You have to get her to the festival, Daddy. It’ll be a prime photo opportunity. Please, please, please.”

  Oh no. Bennie was doing the please thing again. Maybe Tyler wouldn’t be as marshmallow soft as she was. Maybe he would put a stop to things before... The big sucker.

  “Thank you, Daddy. Thank you, thank you, thank you.” Bennie gave him another hug then darted out of the library.

  “Hey,” he said when Lucky started to follow. “Aren’t you going to thank me, too?”

  “For signing my death certificate?”

  He frowned and motioned her into a chair in front of him. “What are you talking about?”

  She sank into soft leather and shook her head. “Nothing. Listen, thanks. This means a lot to Bennie.”

  “Yeah.” He slumped on the corner of the desk and Lucky had the overwhelming urge to reach up and touch his shadowed jaw. He was so beautiful and brooding and... celibate.

  Not that it wasn’t his own fault. She was ready and willing and able and...in love.

  As if that mattered. She was in love with a man she couldn’t have. One who wouldn’t have her. Forget unlucky. She was cursed. What next? A swarm of locusts?

  “She’s growing up so fast, I can’t keep up. Perfume, of all things. And that Peppermint Pink Popsicle stuff.”

  “That’s Pale Pink Parfait.”

  “Yeah, that, too.” He shook his head. “She’s nearly a teenager and I’m clueless as to what to do with her. For her. About her.”

  Lucky gripped the arms of the chair. She wasn’t going to touch him. Not for all the croissants in France. All the mufflers at Muffler Mania. No way. Uh-uh.

  Hair-sprinkled muscle met the warmth of her palm. “Just love her, Tyler.” She stroked his forearm. “That’s all she really needs from you. Just love.” Bad hand. Down, girl. Down. She managed to pry her hand away from him.

  Okay, distance was better. No touching. She glared at her hand. You got that? Do that again and your history, sister.

  “I wish things were that simple.” He shook his head. “Bennie needs more, things I can’t give her. She needs a woman to show her all this pink pickle stuff.”

  “You’re off by an entire food group,” Lucky muttered. “It’s parfait, not pickle. One’s dairy and the other’s vegetable, and whoever heard of a pink pickle anyway?”

  “See?” He threw up his hands. “I’m totally clueless. Nan did all the woman things with Bennie. When she died, I thought I could step in. Bennie had always been so much like me—wild and unruly. Since she was knee-high, she loved to wrestle and watch sports. She could spit farther than any toddler I’d ever seen.”

  “You must have been proud.”

  He beamed. “I’m always proud of her.” His face fell. “But now I don’t know what to do. She’s growing up and she’s turning into a woman.” He stared at Lucky. “She needs a woman.”

  “I think you’re the one who needs a woman.” Who said that? Okay, so she had, but it wasn’t as if she could help herself. He was standing right there in front of her, his denim clad family jewels at eye level, about to pop a zipper. So she’d looked, and she’d commented. Big deal? At least she hadn’t touched.

  Why hadn’t she touched?

  “I do,” he growled. “And I’m in a helluva mess because of it.” He stalked behind the desk, his big deal disappearing behind several inches of thick mahogany.

  “Because why?”

  “Because I want you.”

  “Me? You really want —”

  “Don’t even start. I have enough to worry about right now. Let’s just try to make it through the next couple of days without touching or kissing, or doing anything really stupid. Okay?”

  So kissing her was stupid? Yes. It was because it wouldn’t stop there and it had to because there was no future for them. She knew that, yet it didn’t ease the knot in her chest or dispel the urge to slap his handsome, stupid face.

  “And you think your father’s the blind one?” She bolted to her feet and glared at him. “You know something, Tyler? You are clueless. You’re the most clueless man I’ve ever met. You give new meaning to the word.” She turned and left him staring after her. And the only really stupid thing I ever did was fall in love with you.

  LOVE WAS A BITCH. Lucky spent Thursday night tossing and turning, plotting ways to kill Tyler. Painful ways. Of course, she would always stop just short of actually doing him in, but the moments leading up to her change of heart were pretty good. Lots of crying and begging on his part. Still, her wimping out prevented any real satisfaction and she awoke grouchy and puffy and thoroughly unhappy.

  As luck would have it, Lucky didn’t even have the satisfaction of wallowing in her own misery. Bennie hauled her out of bed before the crack of dawn to get an early start into town. Mabel drove them in Jed’s pickup, the bed full of her cooking entries: pecan pie, pecan cake, butter-pecan syrup, pecan pralines, pecan divinity and candied pecans.

  “Lucky!” Earline squealed, intercepting her as she climbed out of the truck outside the high-school gymnasium where the festival was being held. Hooking her arm through Lucky’s, Earline steered her two pageant hopefuls toward her pink Cadillac.

  “We’ve got a ton of things to do before—oh, no, sugar.” Earline frowned as she studied Lucky’s face. “You’re full of water. Oh, well,” she brightened and started the ignition. “No need to worry. I know a surefire trick. We’ll wrap you in cling wrap and sit you out in the sun for a few hours.”

  “Isn’t that dangerous?”

  “Only if you stay out too long. But we’ll bring you in and unwrap you well before you dehydrate. You don’t have a thing to worry about. I swear you won’t end up like Sara Mae Mulberry.”

  “She dehydrated?”

  Earline nodded. “And suffered sunstroke. She was so out of it, she stood up at the annual church picnic and did a striptease when the choir sang ‘Beulah Land.’” At Lucky’s horrified expression, the woman added, “But that was before I perfected the wrap.” She patted Lucky’s arm. “No need to worry. You’re in good hands, sugar, and the choir’s not even doing ‘Beulah Land’ tonight.”

  “WE’RE HERE,” Earline declared late that afternoon when they reached the gym. She cast a pride-filled glance at Lucky and Bennie. “I’m telling you, it’s in the bag.”

  Lucky took a deep breath, glanced down at the dress Earline had spent most of the afternoon altering, a red sequined number that hugged every minute curve, minus the excess water, of course. It was a bit more revealing than she was used to. Used to? Okay, so she had underwear that left more to the imagination than Earline’s lucky dress, as the woman had called it.

  But Lucky needed some luck. Especially tonight.

  Bennie, on the other hand, had an angel sitting on her shoulder. Beautiful in a pink dress and pink pumps and a matching shade of pale pink lipstick, she was a shoe-in to win. Lucky smiled. Maybe this would work.

  “WHAT IN HEAVEN’S NAME is going on?” Helen followed Tyler into the crowded gymnasium, all the while voicing the same complaint she’d made not five minutes ago in the truck, then before that on the way to town, then back at the house. “We’re wasting Julius’s time traipsing all over the place, chasing after Bernadette. All we need are some simple shots.”

  “You’ll get them,” Tyler promised. “Now, let’s find a seat.”

  “In here?” Her gaze swept the already overflowing rows of bleachers. “You have to be kidding. There’s no back to these chairs. Everyone is all crammed together. Dreadful,” she huffed. “Simply dreadful.”

  “Positively,” Julius, long blond hair pulled back in a chic ponytail, quickly agreed. “And the lighting is hideous.”

  “Oh, hush up, the two of you,” Ulysses grumbled. “I cain’t concentrate with all that cackling.”

  “For your information,” Helen said, bristling, “I don’t cackle.”

  “Cackle, cackle,” Ulysses grumbled.


  “Oh, shut up, you heathen.”

  “Uptight old biddy —”

  “Hey, Tyler!” Hank called to him from a few rows away, effectively drowning out Ulysses’s insult. “Good news. We got her! Canadian government nabbed her before she caught a plane to France. Recovered a load of stuff, too, you lucky son of a gun!”

  “What is that man bellowing about?” Helen demanded, squeezing after Tyler down a crowded bleacher.

  “Nothing.”

  “It didn’t seem like nothing. Who was nabbed?”

  “Yes, who?” Julius asked. “It sounds positively scandalous.”

  “Mind your own business,” Ulysses said. “A man cain’t even have a moment’s peace with the two of you yacking.”

  “I don’t yack.”

  “Yack, yack —”

  “Quiet,” Tyler said, sliding into a vacant spot and pulling Helen after him. “It’s showtime.”

  “GOOD EVENING, folks! Welcome to the fourteenth annual Hickory Honey competition. I’m your hostess with the mostess, Earline Butterworth, and here’s our first contestant.”

  Five contestants trailed by before Earline’s assistant grabbed Lucky’s elbow and herded her up to her mark.

  “You’re next,” Doris said. “When Earline says your name, start walking.”

  Lucky nodded and rubbed her damp palms together. You can do this. For Bennie. You can walk through fire, dance over hot coals, bake in cling wrap like a leftover piece of chicken...

  “Our next contestant is new to Ulysses... Let’s give a great big welcome to Lucky Myers!”

  Lucky took a deep breath, stared straight ahead and strolled onto the walkway. Strolled, not stumbled, even though she was wearing three-inch heels. All those lessons had paid off. She smiled. This wasn’t so bad. Just a few more feet, a little turn, and she’d be finished.

  She hit the end of the runway and paused. Helen stared back from the second row, her eyes filled with shock. Panic bolted through Lucky and she stumbled. Then she saw Tyler. The way he looked at her, his blue eyes filled with so much—wonder, appreciation, hunger.

  She caught her balance, pushed her shoulders back and smiled even wider. She turned, slowly and gracefully, hips swaying. Eat your heart out, Tyler Grant, and sashayed back up the runway to a round of cheers and applause.

  “One down,” she said, rushing backstage to stand next to Bennie who hugged her excitedly.

  “You looked great! Did Grandmother see you? Oh, she must have died. I bet she apologizes for every mean thing she’s ever said to you. Oh, this is great!”

  “Come on, Bennie.” Doris motioned the girl forward.

  “Knock ’em dead,” Lucky said, crossing her fingers. Helen in particular.

  “And in our junior division, we have Ulysses’s own Miss Bernadette Grant...”

  Bernadette walked out onto the runway, her steps practiced and careful, and pride surged through Lucky. Bennie looked so beautiful. So ladylike. So sweet—

  “Whoa!” Bennie squealed, arms flailing as she caught her heel on her hem and fell backward. She landed on her rump and slid out onto the runway, like a lacy pink bowling ball aiming for the center pin.

  “What in heaven’s name——” Helen’s shout echoed above the background music. She gestured wildly toward the stage, then to the man next to her who clicked picture after picture with an expensive-looking camera. Uh-oh. Lucky winced as Helen grabbed the camera and yanked the man around like a French poodle on a leash. Take that, Jacques. And that. And that, you camera-snapping, ponytail-wearing Frenchie.

  It was too painful. She couldn’t watch. Her gaze shifted to Tyler who’d bolted to his feet to plow over the first two rows of people to get to his daughter. But Bennie was already scrambling to her feet. She dusted herself off and tossed a grin at her father. Tyler stopped, one leg hooked over the seat.

  “Now for my next trick,” she declared. “A quadruple backward flip.” She kicked off her pumps and made her way back up the stage in a perfect succession of flips.

  The audience went wild. Lucky joined in, applauding and cheering before her gaze found Tyler again. Her hands went limp.

  He was still straddling the seats, to the dismay of the people in front of him. Not that he cared. He had this silly, dreamy look on his face, a smile tilting his lips, pride brightening his eyes. Something twisted in Lucky’s gut and she all but melted into a red-sequined puddle.

  Geez, she had it bad.

  And that wasn’t good.

  “I was terrible.” Bennie giggled, then moaned and threw herself into Lucky’s arms.

  “You were wonderful!”

  “I fell and Grandmother had a coronary.” Breathlessly, Bennie peered around the stage curtains. “She’s still having a coronary.” Bennie frowned and caught her lip between her teeth as she surveyed Helen and Frenchie. “I guess I really messed things up this time.” Her head drooped and she stared at her now-shoeless feet. “I’m sorry, Lucky.”

  “Don’t be sorry! This whole thing was a great idea, and it would’ve worked. It still might...”

  Bennie shook her head. “You don’t have to make me feel better. This is a disaster. This never would have happened to my mama. She was so pretty and graceful. She did everything right, said the right things, wore the right clothes.” The girl turned eyes bright with tears on Lucky. “But me... I’ll never be half as good as she was, and Daddy will never love me half as much.”

  “Oh, Bennie.” Lucky hugged the girl tight. “That’s not true. Your father loves you.”

  “Not enough,” Bennie cried into Lucky’s shoulder. “I’m not enough. I’ve read all the right books and watched those instructional videos you found in Dad’s library. I want to be a lady like my mama. More than I’ve ever wanted anything.”

  “It’s all right,” Lucky crooned. “Come on, baby. They’re about to announce the winners. Let’s go get you some tissues.”

  TYLER WATCHED as Lucky hustled Bennie toward the ladies’ room. His daughter’s voice echoed in his ears. I want to be a lady...

  So it hadn’t been an act. The interest in clothes, Beethoven’s Fifth, all those French verbs... She really did want to learn all that stuff, to be the lady her mother had been.

  And she didn’t stand a chance of doing it stuck way out here in Ulysses, with books and videos. To be like Nan, she needed the same opportunities—Smithston and Houston and Helen. Damn.

  “There you are!” Speak of the devil. Tyler turned to face Helen. “This is all your fault,” his mother-in-law said. “Julius is headed for the nearest FedEx office right now to overnight those horrible pictures back to Houston for tomorrow’s society column.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “I know you’re dead set on staying here in this god-awful place,” she said. “But I really wish you would open your eyes and smell the cappuccino, Tyler — What did you say?”

  “I said I’m sorry.” He raked a hand through his hair. “For bringing you and Julius here tonight. It was a mistake. Bringing Bennie to Ulysses was a mistake.”

  “Of course it was. This dreadful place is completely and totally unacceptable. Houston is her home. For heaven’s sake, Tyler, she should be with other young ladies her age, not out risking her life on runaway tractors and pageant runways, and with that... that nanny.”

  “I know.”

  “You should fire that woman immediately—What did you say?”

  “Dammit, Helen. Don’t make this any harder on me. I said you were right. Houston is her home. I... Dammit.”

  “Are you saying you’re letting me take her back?”

  “I’m saying I’m taking her back.”

  “Thank God.” Helen threw her hands up in the air. “You’ve finally come to your senses.” She beamed. “Things will be absolutely perfect. Ulysses is all wrong for you, Tyler. You don’t belong here.”

  But he did, he thought as he watched Helen disappear back into the gymnasium and found himself caught up amid a crowd of well-wishers backstage.


  “Great kid you got there, Tyler. A regular chip off the old block. It’s so good to have you back. You planning on joining the singles group over at the church? We’d love to have you come in and talk to the 4-H group at the school. I hear you’re planning on increasing the herd? Bet your daddy’s real happy about that. Proud, too.”

  This was the one and only place he’d ever really belonged, and sixteen years ago he’d walked away of his own free will and made the worst mistake of his life. He couldn’t do it again, yet he couldn’t say goodbye to his daughter. He wouldn’t do that. He and Bennie belonged together, and they would stay together, even if it meant giving up the ranch for Houston. He’d walk through hell for her and challenge the devil to a fistfight.

  And he’d break an old man’s heart. Again.

  Yep, he’d definitely done something terrible in a past life. Forget kicking the cat. He’d probably run over the damned thing.

  “GIVE ME that blasted gun, girlie. I’ve got a snooty battle-ax of a mother-in-law to get rid of.” Ulysses grabbed the gun, aimed at the colored balloons and started firing.

  Pop. Pop-pop. Pop. Pop-pop-pop-pop-pop—

  “Dad!” Tyler walked up to the balloon booth and yanked the imitation Uzi out of his father’s hands. “What are you doing?”

  “Killin’ me a woman, son.”

  “He’s won two purple stuffed teddy bears and a polka-dot alligator.” The girl at the booth stacked Ulysses’s prizes on the counter.

  “Damn straight. How many till I get that hot-pink turtle?”

  “Five in a row.”

  “Take that, Smellin’ Helen.” Ulysses grabbed another gun from the counter and started firing again.

  “Dad.”

  “Don’t bother me now, boy. I’m concentratin’.” Pop. Pop.