A Maverick to [Re]Marry

by Christine Rimmer

“And you have a big mouth. One you need to practice shutting.”

  Bailey put on a hangdog expression. “It’s hopeless, I tell you. You’re doomed, brother. Doomed.” He tipped his head back and asked the ceiling, “Oh, why won’t anyone listen to a man who knows?”

  “Get real, Bailey,” said Luke. “You love Eva.”

  “’Course I love Eva. She’s a fine woman. So is Annie, for that matter.” That was Daniel’s wife. “Fallon, too.” Fallon O’Reilly had married Jamie the year before. “It’s not the women I object to, it’s the institution itself. Marriage. It’s what ruins people’s lives.” Bailey wrapped his hands around his own throat and pretended to choke himself. “Slow strangulation, you hear what I’m sayin’?”

  Derek decided to step in before Bailey got too far on the wrong side of his own brothers. “Come on, Bailey. Nine-ball. Two out of three.” He nodded toward the pool table.

  “Go.” Daniel made a shooing motion. “Give the rest of us a break.”

  Bailey scowled. “I’m trying to help you.”

  “We don’t need your help,” said Jamie.

  Bailey hung his head. “Why does no one appreciate the wisdom I’m offering?”

  Derek got up. “Nine-ball. What do you say?”

  “Why not?” Bailey rose, grumbling, “I’m not makin’ any progress here, and that’s for sure.”

  At the pool tables, Bailey continued to trash-talk marriage as Derek proceeded to win the game. Twice.

  “Not only smart enough to stay single,” declared Bailey when they started back to join the other guys, “but a pool shark, too. What other talents you got?”

  As he considered what to try next to get Bailey to stop annoying his brothers, Bailey muttered, “Uh-oh. Here they come.”

  They were Eva, Bailey’s sister Bella—and Amy.

  Amy. Looking like a bright ray of sunshine in a pretty yellow dress.

  The three women marched straight to the table where the Stockton men were sitting.

  Bailey, still beside him, said something else. Derek had no idea what. All rational thought had fled his mind, along with his ability to understand words. He felt sucker punched. And also guilty.

  Yeah, he should have called her. But how could he? Even after all these years, she made him forget the English language, made him blind to everything but her.

  Somehow, he did what he had to do—put one foot in front of the other, kept walking alongside Bailey until they reached the table again.

  “There you are,” said Bella, glaring straight at Bailey.

  Bailey widened his eyes. “What’d I do now?”

  “Don’t play innocent,” said Bella. “Nobody believes that act from you. You’ve been driving everybody in the place crazy, going on about all the reasons men should never get married. We just came over to offer you a ride back to Sunshine Farm.”

  “Somebody called you to come and haul me out of the Ace?” Bailey huffed in trumped-up outrage. “I don’t believe this town. A guy can’t express an honest opinion without some busybody callin’ his sister to come drag him home.”

  Luke, who’d gotten up to give Eva a quick kiss, advised, “Maybe you’ve had one too many, huh, Bailey?”

  “I’m not drunk,” Bailey insisted.

  Eva suggested wryly, “Just opinionated?”

  He frowned at her. “And where do you and Amy come in? That’s what I’d like to know.”

  “We were over at Bella’s when she got the call.”

  “The call from who?” he demanded.

  Bella shook her head. “You don’t need to know.”

  As the others discussed whether Bailey should go home or not, Derek stood by the table and tried not to look at Amy. When he finally couldn’t stop himself from shooting her a glance, he caught her at the moment that her gaze skittered away from him.

  Just like on Monday, the two of them sitting there in Eva’s living room, both of them trying their damnedest not to look at each other.

  They’d had love once, powerful love that he’d believed could conquer anything.

  Now they just tried not to look at each other when they met up by accident. And when they had to speak to each other, they blathered on about how their secret past was long ago and they were both just fine.

  Bailey said, “I’ll switch to ginger ale. Will that satisfy you women?”

  “And stop running down marriage,” said Jamie.

  “Yeah,” Daniel agreed. “We’ve heard enough about that.”

  “Fine, fine. It’s hopeless to even try, anyway,” Bailey groused. “I got the message, loud and clear. You all can keep your happily-ever-afters, see if I care.”

  “All right, then,” said Luke. He turned to Eva. “Stay for a little?” He sat again and pulled her down into the chair next to him. “Come on, Bella. Amy. Stay.”

  Bailey helped Derek grab some more chairs and then the two of them went and got another round—including a pitcher of ginger ale for Bailey and anyone else who didn’t want beer. When they got back to the table, the chair on one side of Amy was empty.

  Derek took that chair because he couldn’t bear not to.

  Someone put a love song on the ancient jukebox. A girl from out of town grabbed Bailey and pulled him up for a dance.

  Luke led Eva out onto the floor. They swayed to the music, whispering to each other. Eva tipped her blond head back and laughed. They looked so damn happy.

  Life? Sometimes it just wasn’t fair.

  Derek couldn’t stop himself. He turned to Amy. “Dance with me?”

  Her eyes looked almost golden right then, golden, green and softest brown. She swallowed. And then she nodded.

  He took her hand—so smooth and cool. It fit just right in his, same as it used to all those years ago. He pulled her up and led her out among the dancers, gathering her close, maybe closer than he should have.

  So what? She smelled like heaven—like wildflowers and sunshine. And her body felt just right brushing close to his. Maybe he’d dance with her all night long, never once let her out of his arms.

  He pressed his rough cheek to her silky hair. “I’m sorry I didn’t call.”

  “Why didn’t you?”

  “I don’t know. I kept meaning to.”

  She pulled away enough to turn those big eyes up to him. “Apology accepted. I was going to call you.”

  He stared at her lips too long, caught himself and shifted his glance back up to meet her eyes. “But you didn’t call me.”

  “I didn’t know what I would say. I also had a feeling you might not answer the phone or call me back. I felt...out of my depth, I guess. So, I just kept putting it off.”

  “Yeah, well. All that, what you just said? Me, too.”

  “We need to stop this. We’re two grown adults.”

  He almost chuckled. “Coulda fooled me.”

  “Derek, we’ve got a bachelor party to plan.”

  He sucked in her scent of flowers and sunshine. “Yeah. We need to get going on that.” Holding her like this felt so natural, so completely right. It made the years kind of melt away.

  And he really needed to keep a grip on himself. This would go nowhere. It was only a dance.

  “So then,” she whispered, “we need to make a date to meet and then we need to stick to it.”

  “A date?” He said it in a playful way and felt stupidly proud of himself that he’d managed to tease her. “You want a date with me?”

  She slanted him a sharp glance. “Yeah, a date. But not a date.”

  “So...a non-date, then?”

  “Exactly. And I mean it, Derek. We need to make it soon. We’ve got two weeks till the bachelor party. Viv dropped by the farmhouse yesterday and asked how we were doing with our plans. I promised her we’d have it all figured out in the next few days.”

  Amy was right. No more mooning around like a heartsick fool. It was all over years ago and he needed to stop stewing about it and hold up his end as Luke’s best man.

  “Tomorrow,” he sa
id. “I’ll pick you up at six. Ever been to Maverick Manor?”

  “No.”

  “Great. We’ll go there and you can get a look at the place. It might give us some ideas.”

  “All right. That works.”

  “We’ll get a couple of fancy burgers and come up with a bunch of activities to satisfy Viv Shuster’s list-making soul.”

  “Perfect. I’m in.”

  The song ended.

  Another cowboy tapped him on the shoulder. Get lost, he almost let himself say. But not quite. He gave Amy a hint of a smile. “Thanks for the dance.”

  She nodded. “See you tomorrow, then.” And she turned into the other cowboy’s waiting arms.

  * * *

  The next day, Amy spent way too much time trying to decide what to wear to Maverick Manor that night. She finally settled on a turquoise halter dress with a handkerchief hem and a pair of matching high-heeled sandals. Why not dress up a little? From what everyone said, Maverick Manor was an upscale sort of place.

  True, this was not a real date, but it couldn’t hurt to look her best.

  Maybe, just possibly, she went a little overboard, pumicing and shaving and getting everything all smooth and sleek. And then she used up a whole hour on her hair and makeup. But taking the time to look good was so worth it, a real confidence-booster. And with Derek, well, she needed all the confidence she could muster.

  At five thirty, she was trying to decide between a shoulder bag and a clutch, wondering if she ought to bring a light wrap, when her phone rang.

  It was Derek. “Amy? Hey. I’m really sorry, but we’ve got some fences down and I’m not gonna be able to make it tonight, after all. We’ll have to reschedule.”

  Reschedule.

  Her heart sank. It felt like a lead weight in her chest.

  How had this happened? Somehow, she’d gone and let herself look forward to the evening, let herself forget that this was only a meeting, a non-date.

  Tears blurred her vision—which was totally ridiculous. She dropped to the edge of her bed and fiddled with the filmy hem of the dress she wouldn’t be wearing tonight after all. “Oh. Ahem. Well, I totally understand. You just give me a call tomorrow, why don’t you? We’ll set up something else.”

  “Amy, are you all—”

  “Listen.” She swallowed down the lump in her throat. “I’ve got to go. Talk to you later.”

  “But are you—”

  “’Bye, now.” She disconnected the call and dropped the phone on the bed. And then, teeth gritted, eyes shut, she willed the tears away. So silly, to get all emo just because an old boyfriend needed a rain check on their non-date. It was in no way, shape or form a big deal.

  Except, well, he’d been so much more than just a boyfriend...

  But she wasn’t going to even think about all that. That was all in the past and it needed to stay there. She’d moved on long ago, gone out with other guys. Once, she’d almost gotten engaged. But when it came right down to it, well, it hadn’t been true love and she just couldn’t say yes. Not like with—

  No. Stop. Not going there.

  Besides, her dating history was not the issue. What mattered was that the days were flying by and they really did have to make some plans for the big party. They had a great venue and everyone had already been invited. Music and food were taken care of, or so she’d been told.

  Games and activities. That was all she and Derek had to handle. And Eva and Luke were counting on them to do it up right.

  Really, she would not allow a single tear to fall. Annoyance was what she felt right now. Annoyance and exasperation that Derek Dalton kept putting off the job they’d both agreed to do.

  Down the hall in the bathroom, she washed her face free of every bit of the makeup she’d so carefully applied. She raked her hair up into a ponytail and changed into old jeans, a white T-shirt edged in lace that had seen better days and a worn pair of Converse high-tops.

  Then, in her room again, she sat at her computer and spent half an hour brainstorming ideas for the party. When that got old, she logged in at work.

  Around eight, she started getting antsy. Grabbing her phone, she went downstairs. Eva and Luke had gone to Jamie and Fallon’s for dinner, so she had the house to herself for the evening. She should fix a sandwich or something.

  But she didn’t really feel hungry.

  She wandered out to the front porch and perched on the step. Her phone was synced to her computer. She brought up the list for the party to jot down a few more ideas just as a red pickup rolled into the yard.

  Derek. Her pulse started racing and her heart seemed to expand in her chest.

  He stopped not far from the foot of the steps and got out. “Hey, pretty girl.” He swept off his hat. His hair was damp, his cheeks freshly shaved. He wore dark-wash jeans and a crisp snap-front shirt.

  She was really glad to see him and that irritated her no end. Sticking her phone in her back pocket, she challenged, “I thought you had fences to deal with.”

  “I did. We had three sections of fence down, cows and calves loose all over the place. But we rounded them up and drove them back where they belonged, fixing fences as we went. When we got to the last fence, Eli said he could handle the rest.” Eli was his brother. “I left him to it, cleaned up fast and came right over here in hopes I might still have a chance at that non-date you promised me.”

  She scowled down at her old T-shirt and busted out jeans. “Do I look like I’m ready for a visit to the local resort?”

  His gorgeous mouth twitched at one corner. She knew damn well he was trying not to smile. “Aw, Amy.”

  “What?” she demanded, feeling sour as a pile of lemons.

  “You’re all grown-up now, but in some ways, you’re still the same girl I remember.”

  Now her chest felt tight, like a bunch of sweet memories had gotten trapped in there, leaving no room for breath. She narrowed her eyes and pinched her mouth at him. “What is that supposed to mean?”

  “You never would go anywhere without your hair just so and your makeup just right.”

  She sat up straighter. He wasn’t getting to her. No way. “I like to make a good impression. Something wrong with that?”

  “Not a thing.” He put his hat to his heart. “I’m sorry, okay? That I didn’t call you all week, that tonight got messed up. But when you work cattle, fences go down and you just have to deal with it.”

  “I know that.”

  “So then, what’s really bugging you is that I didn’t call earlier in the week like I said I would?”

  She wrapped her arms around her knees, braced her chin on them and considered blowing off his question. But where would that get them? A little honesty never hurt and she might as well at least try to clear the air between them. After all, he’d asked. “Yeah. You said you’d get in touch and you didn’t. And then tonight, at the last possible minute, you called it off. It’s like you’re messing with me or something.”

  “I’m not.”

  “And I’m not sure I believe you. I mean, whatever happened in the past, that was then. We need to get over it.”

  “I know that, Amy.” He regarded her solemnly.

  “We have a job to do, Derek.” Did she sound whiny? Well, why shouldn’t she? She certainly felt whiny. “People we care about are counting on us.”

  “You’re right.” He took a step closer and spoke in a rough whisper. “You want the truth from me?”

  Did she? Really? She wasn’t sure. But she had too much pride to back down now. “Yes, I do. Tell me the truth, Derek Dalton.”

  “I didn’t call all week because I kept thinking of the past, you know? Of you and me and everything that went down. I didn’t trust myself to call you. After everything we were to each other once, I felt like I was going to end up blowing it, saying something way out of line to you. I don’t want to do that. And so, I put off calling you.”

  That hurt. On a lot of levels. But the truth was like that sometimes. “It’s not that ea
sy for me, either,” she confessed in a small voice.

  He stood there in the fading light of day, just looking at her with those green eyes she still sometimes saw in her dreams. “Amy?”

  “Yeah?”

  “You mind if I come up there on the porch with you?”

  By way of an answer, she scooted over and patted the empty space beside her. He came up the steps, hooked his hat on the finial at the end of the porch rail and plunked down next to her. She got a whiff of his scent—soap and clean skin. All manly and fresh and much too well-remembered.

  “I...go back and forth,” she said.

  He frowned. “About?”

  She refused to let her gaze waver. “What to say to you. I mean, we did kind of leave it hanging, didn’t we?”

  His eyes had shadows in them now. “You sent me the papers and I signed them. Nothing left hanging about that.”

  “Derek, you told me to go.”

  “You wanted to go.”

  She shut her eyes and turned away. “We shouldn’t even be talking about this. I mean, what’s the point, really?”

  There was a silence, one full of all the things she wasn’t sure how to say—didn’t really believe she even should say.

  Finally, he spoke. “How ’bout this?” His voice was gentle now. Coaxing. “Let’s start with the picnic.”

  “There’s a picnic?” She faced him again. “What picnic?”

  “Well, when I called, you didn’t seem happy about my breaking our non-date.”

  “I wasn’t happy. Not in the least.”

  “So, I figured I needed a backup plan. I decided if you wouldn’t come out to the Manor with me now, I would put on my pitiful face and say, ‘Then how ’bout a picnic, Amy?’ Because it just so happens I have one all ready to go in the truck.” He looked at her hopefully.

  “Is that it?”

  “Is what it?”

  She waved a hand in a circle around his face. “Is that your pitiful face?”

  He chuckled. “It depends. Is it working?”

  She was not going to smile at him. He didn’t deserve it. Not yet, anyway. “Hmm. Depends on what’s in the picnic.”

  “You’ll be relieved to know I stopped by the main house for the food. I have my mom’s fried chicken and biscuits all fancy in a basket. I even brought a big blanket to sit on.”