The Cowboy's Mail Order Bride

by Carolyn Brown

  The lead guitar picker hit a couple of chords, and two dozen ladies with little red tickets showed up at his chair. “He’s mine. He invited me personally to this party. Tell them, Greg. Tell them that Tonya is the one who brought the leather and intends to go for a wild ride later tonight. Tonya is going to buy Greg, so the rest of you can just stand back. I don’t even need any of those damned old tickets. He’s promised every dance to me.”

  “You’re full of shit, woman. And he wouldn’t invite you when he invited me. Tell her that I’m the one you’ve been cyber-dating on PlentyOfFish.com.”

  “I’ve been doing what?” Greg said, his mouth dropping open.

  A whole passel of women jostling in front of him, blondes to redheads to brunettes and every size imaginable, looked like they were about to put up their fists and start a brawl right there in Nana’s bazaar.

  A cute little blonde pushed her way to the front of the line. “PlentyOfFish.com. That’s not where a good Christian man would be hanging out on cyberspace. He wouldn’t even look at that site. He and I met on Christian Mingle. Look at me. There’s no way you’d forget this.” She did a sweeping motion with her hand from head to toe.

  “You can both kiss my ass. You’ve got the wrong Greg Adams. We met on Farmers Only and I’m here at his personal request. I’m a ranching woman and that’s what his profile said he’s interested in.” A tall redhead bullied her way right up to him and laid a long, passionate kiss on his lips. “You said I was supposed to save a kiss for you, so let’s dance.”

  Tonya pushed her to the side and the woman turned around with her fists up. “You want some of this? I might be a Christian, but I don’t put up with being pushed around.”

  Emily yelled, “Enough!” and the crowd of women parted like the Red Sea to let her through. She held up a hand. “I’m sorry, ladies, but there’s been a big misunderstanding. Someone has put Greg’s profile on several sites without him knowing it. Only the women who have tickets can dance with him tonight. There’s a number on the back of your ticket, so check them.”

  “Tickets? No one told me I had to buy tickets. He said I was guaranteed every dance with him,” Tonya said.

  “Well, shit! I drove a hundred miles to this shitty affair,” one woman said.

  “Hell, honey, I flew from Wyoming.”

  “I came from Kentucky,” another said.

  “I’m sorry again, ladies. You might as well have a good time while you are here, and there’s still some tickets for the other cowboys if you want to dance. And you’ll all have a chance to bid on Greg at the auction if you want to come back in a week for a date,” Emily said.

  “Emily, you want to explain what’s going on here?” Greg said behind her.

  “Later,” she whispered over her shoulder.

  “I’m on my way to buy up every ticket there is for the Mason cowboy,” the little blonde said.

  “You’re going to have to beat me,” the tall redhead told her.

  They all ran for the table where Rose was selling the last of the dance tickets faster than greased lightning.

  That left two women standing in front of Greg. The closest one giggled. “You got him first, Montie. I didn’t realize they were numbered. Mine has 2 behind his name, so he’s mine next. Don’t wear him out or whisper promises that you can’t keep in his ear. I can’t believe someone actually had those hussies believing that Greg was on a dating site. Lord, anyone that knows him would know better than that.”

  Greg stood up and laid his glitter sign on the chair. Montie wrapped her arms around his neck and plastered her body so close to his that her breasts were crushed flat against his chest. “Darlin’, I brought my checkbook and I fully well intend to have a date with you next week. I’ve already booked a hotel room in Dallas and told them what to order for room service. You just bring lots of energy and your credit card to pay the bill.”

  The song ended and a tall blonde tapped Montie on the shoulder, held up her ticket, and took her place with Greg. He looked out over her shoulder to see Emily waving at him. A trip to the courthouse was looking better by the minute.

  The blonde in his arms smiled at him. “I don’t think you remember me, darlin’. I’m Mallory and I was a freshman when you were a senior. I met you right here in this barn that summer at the Fourth of July party and fell in love with you. I will own you when they do the auction. Daddy said I could spend up to five hundred dollars because it’s a good cause.”

  He and Emily hadn’t discussed money. He’d just assumed that she would bid on him, but he couldn’t see the fan in her hip pocket and she had to have one to bid.

  “Are you listening to me, Greg Adams?” Mallory asked.

  “Yes, ma’am. And if you buy me, what are your plans for a date?”

  “I’m cooking at my house. I’m making your favorite.”

  “And that is?” he asked.

  “Fried chicken, hot rolls, mashed potatoes, gravy, and chocolate cake for dessert. I know everything about you except how good you are in bed, but I will find out that night, darlin’. I intend to feed you every bite of supper before we slip and slide around on satin sheets. You won’t lift a single finger or fork on our date, and honey, I will be naked except for a see-through, black lace apron,” Mallory whispered.

  Nana would have a heart attack if she knew what she’d unleashed with her idea of a cowboy auction. Were all the other cowboys getting erotic play-by-plays of their upcoming Friday night dates?

  “And if you don’t win a date with me, who else are you bidding on?” Greg asked.

  “Second choice is Mason. Third would have been Tommy, but Prissy done stepped in and stole him, so my third choice is Coleman.”

  Greg chuckled. “Mason has twin daughters.”

  Mallory giggled. “Darlin’, I’m just buying him for a night, not forever. I’m damn sure not taking on those two girls. They’d put a shrink in a mental hospital.”

  “My turn.” A short redhead stepped into Greg’s arms on the third song. “Hello, Greg.”

  “Fiona,” he said stiffly as he wrapped his arms loosely around her waist.

  “Been a while.”

  “It has,” he said.

  “I’m not bidding on you, but I did want one dance with you just for old time’s sake. I’m sorry about the way things ended. I didn’t mean to hurt you,” she said.

  “It’s in the past. Don’t worry about it.” He swung her out, twirled her, and brought her back to his chest. “We still dance pretty damn well together, don’t we?”

  “Honey, we never had a problem in that area or in bed. I just didn’t like playing second fiddle to a bunch of damn cows,” she said.

  At the end of every song Greg looked out over the crowd to see if Emily was coming toward him. It wasn’t until the sixth song that she said something to Clarice and started across the dance floor. He smiled at her and she winked, but when she reached his side, she brushed her fingertips against his and kept walking. He turned his head and saw her hold up a ticket to dance with Mason Harper.

  Mason flashed a brilliant smile and held open his arms. It looked like Greg might really have to marry Emily so that neither of them would be on the auction block next year.

  “What did I do wrong?” he mumbled.

  “Not a thing wrong in my eyes.” His next dance partner looped her arms around his neck. “I like a good slow dance. It lets us get up close and personal. And I love this speed dance dating idea, honey. Now tell me what we’re going to do if I buy you and we go on a date.”

  “You get to plan it. I just pay for it,” he said.

  “That’s right. Shall we go fishing or quail hunting? I like either one, and afterward we can go up to that hunting cabin y’all got and cook whatever we catch or kill.”

  “And?” he asked.

  “And lock the doors and play all kinds of games,” she w
hispered seductively.

  “How did you know about the cabin?” Greg asked.

  “Been up there with Louis a few times. I’m going to bid on him tonight if I don’t get you. He’s really the one I’m after, if you want to know the truth. Had my eye on him for over a year, but he’s a hard one to catch, but I figure if he thinks you and I are at the cabin then he’ll get jealous enough to ask me the big question,” she said.

  “But…” Greg stammered.

  “A woman’s got to do what a woman’s got to do.” She laughed.

  Greg wondered if that’s why Emily was dancing with Mason Harper. No, not his Emily. She was as forthright and honest as sunshine. She was not manipulative, or was she?

  The song ended and Emily disappeared completely as another woman took her turn with Greg. After an hour, the band leader announced that there were only five more dances left and then the auction would begin.

  No one came forward to claim Greg, so he returned to his chair, sat down on the glitter sign before he realized what he was doing, and hopped up—but it was too late. His whole butt was covered with sparkles. Would that make him worth more at the auction? Three songs later, the singer announced that there were only two more songs and he looked up to see if anyone was coming his way. Emily was nowhere to be seen.

  Every other chair was empty and he had to admit, he felt lonely, sitting there all alone. The other cowboys waved and winked. The ladies smiled at him, but Emily was gone completely.

  “Last song, ladies,” the singer said. “We’re closing out the evening with a song by Josh Turner.”

  Greg sighed and then someone tapped him on the shoulder from behind and a ticket appeared in front of his eyes. He tipped his head back and looked up into Emily’s dancing blue eyes.

  “I had to pay Rose a helluva lot for this ticket, so you owe me this dance, cowboy,” she said.

  He was on his feet in seconds. “Rose?”

  Emily grabbed his hand and led him out onto the dance floor. “She says she owes it to you for being such a good domino partner. She bought the last five so you could have a rest before the auction, but she’d only sell me the one for the last dance and she threatened to sell off the other four to the cyber-women if I didn’t pay what she wanted.”

  He wrapped her up in his arms and whispered softly, “Thank you for saving the day with those women. If Louis did this I’m going to fire his sorry ass tomorrow morning.”

  “It wasn’t Louis, and you are welcome.”

  “What would I do without you to save me? And who is it if it’s not Louis?”

  “Let’s just enjoy the dance, darlin’. We’ll discuss this later, and remember, I love you,” she said.

  The lyrics to the song said that he was her soul mate and he’d love her until the end of time. Emily listened to him sing with the singer and tears filled her eyes.

  “We really are soul mates.” He brushed a sweet kiss across her lips. “Please tell me you aren’t going to let someone else buy me at this auction. I can’t go out with another woman feeling the way I do about you.”

  She looked up at him and he brushed the tears from her cheeks.

  “Why are you crying?”

  “I’m scared, Greg. I love you, but where can this go?”

  He kissed her eyelids. “Like you said before, we’ll cross that path when we get to it. I never thought I’d say this, but Nana is right. She and Marvin had that time with the letters so that you and I would get together. It’s crazy but true. I thought I was a solid businessman, but I swear I’m getting a romantic streak like Nana.”

  “And now,” the singer said into the microphone when the last drumroll ended the dance. “The time has come. Max is going to auction off the cowboys, so ladies, y’all get your fans out of your hip pockets and turn the numbers around so he can see them. Miz Clarice says that the cowboys are to pick up their signs and bring them up here to the stage. That way everyone will know exactly which cowboy they are bidding on.”

  “Time to get on with it. Are you bidding on me or throwing me out to the bobcats?” Greg said.

  “Soul mates don’t need to ask questions like that.” She rolled up on her toes and kissed him on the cheek. “Now go get that sign that I worked so hard on. I wouldn’t want to bid on the wrong cowboy.”

  Max picked up the microphone and said, “Ladies, take a long look at these old hardworking cowboys. Your money is going for a good cause and these guys will be yours for a whole evening come next Friday night. There’s an even dozen of them, and I’m not letting a single one walk out of here for less than fifty bucks. So that’s the starting point for Greg Adams. Now somebody give me fifty… do I hear fifty… come on now, ladies, fifty…”

  He talked fast and furious and nodded when a fan at the back of the room went up. “Now sixty… do I hear sixty… I’ve got fifty… somebody… I see sixty, let’s go for seventy.”

  “Five hundred dollars!” The red-haired lady who’d kissed him raised her fan. “He’s mine, ladies, so why mess around with chump change.”

  Max wiped his brow with an oversized red bandanna he pulled from his hip pocket. “Now that’s a serious bid, ladies. I’ve got five hundred… do I hear six hundred… six hundred, anyone… going, going…”

  “One thousand dollars,” another woman said. “Sorry, darlin’, but I bet my daddy’s got more money than your daddy.”

  Max wiped his brow again, making a dramatic show of it. “Okay, now we’re getting real serious. I’ve got a thousand dollars. Does the little lady who jacked up the bids to five hundred have anything to say about that?”

  Max went on. “I’ve got a thousand dollars. Do I hear eleven hundred? Come on, ladies, this is prime cowboy. Someone give me eleven hundred. Going… going…” He had the hammer raised to hit the podium.

  “Two thousand dollars,” Emily said.

  “Two thousand one hundred,” the short cyber-blonde yelled.

  “Two thousand two hundred,” the redhead shouted.

  “Two thousand five hundred,” Tonya yelled above the noise.

  “He’s mine. Three thousand dollars,” the redhead said.

  “Five thousand,” Emily raised her voice. “And, darlin’, my daddy didn’t put a cap on what I can spend, so if y’all want to stay in the game, then you’d best get out your checkbooks and prepare to write a lot of zeroes.”

  ***

  She hadn’t planned on spending one cent over a thousand dollars, but by damn, that hussy was not going to spend a single minute with Greg. Besides, Emily rationalized, it was tax deductible, for a damn good cause, and she hadn’t spent a single dime of her money on a vacation.

  “Well, Miz Emily, with the number thirteen on her fan, has given me a five-thousand-dollar bid. Anyone out there going to top that?” Max asked. No one said a word or even fluttered their fan. “Then Greg Adams goes to Emily Cooper. You can make out your check to the Ladies’ Auxiliary Fund and give it to Dotty, or I understand that she does take cash. Go on and get off the stage, Greg. Now we’ve got Mason Harper up for bids, and I’m starting at fifty dollars.”

  “Five hundred dollars,” the blonde said.

  The crowd parted for Greg to get to Emily. He picked her up and swung her around several times before he set her back down.

  “I love you,” he whispered.

  “I hope so, because I’ve got a helluva date planned for Friday night.” She laughed.

  “Want to tell me where and what so I can be prepared?”

  “Oh, no! It’s a big surprise, darlin’.”

  He slung an arm around her shoulder and was walking toward the door when Nancy stopped them.

  “Girl, I was so mad at you for not dancing with my son until the last song that I could’ve wrung your neck,” she said.

  Emily smiled sweetly. “A cowgirl always goes home with the cowboy that she dances t
he last song with, even if it costs her the next year’s calf crop. And I knew what I was doing. If they all danced with him, then they’d bid high, and this is for a good cause.”

  Nancy hugged her. “Well, next time you could let me in on your plans so I won’t waste energy being mad at you. And what was that deal with all those women in front of him one minute and arguing over who got to dance with him?”

  “A bunch of dating site women who thought he invited them to the party,” Emily said.

  Nancy looked up at her son. “Are you on a dating site?”

  “Hell, no! Someone played a big joke on me,” he said.

  Nancy glanced at Dotty and Clarice, who were whispering behind their hands and then back at Emily, who slid one eye shut in a sly wink.

  “I see,” she said.

  Dotty and Clarice plowed through the crowd and had a group hug with Greg and Emily. Clarice whispered in her ear, “Darlin’, I’ve already paid the five thousand to the fund. I’ll declare it as a charitable donation on the ranch taxes.”

  “But…” Emily started.

  “It was worth it, believe me,” Clarice said. “And if you ever tell a soul that I paid for it, I’ll take a pecan switch to you.”

  “Yes, ma’am, and thank you. Can I take him away from here now that I own him?” she asked.

  “I expect you are both old enough to go to the house without a chaperone,” Nancy said.

  Greg hugged his mother. “Well, I don’t know about that, Mama. You think you’d better go with us?”

  “Oh, I think Emily can protect you.” Nancy laughed.

  “Sold for two thousand dollars to Fiona. Mason Harper, you are now owned by Fiona next Friday night,” Max said.

  Mason reached over and took the microphone from Max. “Thank you, Fiona, for buying me and not letting me stand up here like a worthless old bull. I’ll look forward to Friday night. You mind if I bring the girls with us?”

  Dotty laughed so hard that she had to wipe the tears from her cheeks. “I’d give another two thousand dollars to get to go with them if he does.”

  Clarice hooked an arm in Nancy’s. “I’m telling you, Emily did good when she came up with the auction idea. We’re going to be able to help more than one girl through her first year of school.”