He groaned. “Dollies? Really?”
She winced. “It was Janet Ferguson’s idea. The quilters came up with suggestions when they were here last week, and that was the favorite. I’m afraid that no matter what I call it, Dollies is going to stick.” She wished she’d taken pictures of the women with their sewing machines set up on the pine tables, with cutting mats on the covered pool tables and the grizzly holding a decorative basket of scraps like Red Riding Hood heading to grandmother’s house. She’d set up appetizers on the bar, along with a margarita machine that served mango, lime and peach flavors. Everyone said it was the best workshop ever.
Four of the quilters asked her about Jake Hove. Wasn’t he handsome? Had she heard him sing? Was she going out with him? Was he really staying in town? Janet had even brought one of his CDs, so they’d listened to his songs of love in the country while they stitched red, white and blue star blocks.
Yes, yes, no, she didn’t know. Those had been her answers, which had satisfied no one.
“Tracy was going to do a reunion show.” Jerry wandered over to the window and looked out at the street. “She changed her mind.”
“We don’t need her,” Aurora assured him, joining him at the window. Every parking space on the street was taken, and tourists had been wandering around all day. Aurora had kept the Dahl closed all week and would finally reopen at five o’clock, three hours before the first episode of Willing to Wed aired. The official watch party would begin at seven o’clock, and the donations collected at the door would go toward the fund to purchase new uniforms for the school band. After the show, there would be a dance, with the Wild Judiths and Jake providing live music.
Willing was about to turn Monday nights into New Year’s Eve, Valentine’s Day and Mardi Gras, all at once.
“Easy for you to say.” He pointed to the tall man across the street. “Look, there’s your new boyfriend.”
“He’s not my boyfriend,” Aurora insisted, but she did feel a flutter in her belly as he crossed the street and headed toward the Dahl. It was a beautiful afternoon, windy but sunny. He looked pleased with himself and amused by the number of people sharing the sidewalk. She hadn’t seen him in a week, which had surprised and disappointed her. He had walked her home from Lucia’s, kissed her with great enthusiasm and then...nothing.
“I’m going to ask him to perform at the finale party at the park,” the mayor said. “Do you think he’ll still be here in eight weeks?”
“He’s looking for a place to rent for the summer.” Only the summer. Winter might love horseback riding and baking with Lucia, but Aurora wondered how she’d manage in a rural school come August. Aurora thought Willing was a great place to raise children, but Winter had grown up in a completely different environment. As had Jake. The child might be able to adapt, but Aurora doubted the father could. She couldn’t imagine what he’d find to do here in this town. Could someone spend all of his time writing songs? Jamming with amateur musicians? Attending ham dinners and watching reality television?
“Looks like he’s coming over here.” Jerry showed no signs of leaving. He was supposed to be here to help, but he hadn’t done much of that. Aurora assumed he was lonely.
Well, that was the reason for most of her business. Except Jerry had never seemed like the kind of man to waste time.
Sure enough, there was a knock on the front door. And when she opened it, her handsome visitor grinned at her.
“Not working with Sam today?”
He looked as if he’d just stepped out of the shower. “We quit early.” He stepped inside. “Sam’s helping Lucia pack up all the food. Hey, Jerry.” He wasn’t quite as warm to the mayor, but he returned Jerry’s nod politely.
“Hey,” Jerry said.
Jake turned back to Aurora. “I stopped in to see if there was anything I could do to help.”
“I think I’m all set. We’re opening in ten minutes,” she said, ignoring the urge to step closer to him. “Does everything look okay?”
“It looks good. Are you glad to be open again?”
“I am. And the construction on the addition starts tomorrow. Only one week behind schedule.” She couldn’t help smiling, despite the fact that Jerry was watching them intently.
“I heard you’re looking for a place to rent,” the mayor said. “I have a house out of town for sale, if you’re interested. It has potential. There are two new garages. In case you’re looking for space for a recording studio.”
“I’m set, thanks,” Jake announced, leaning against the bar. “Mike Breen rented me an apartment in his building. It’s small, but Winter and I will be comfortable. I was just there to sign the lease.”
“So you’re staying,” she said.
His eyes, sparkling with humor, met hers. “Why do you look so surprised? I’ve learned my daughter is very persuasive.” He grew serious again. “I think the kid deserves to stay in one place this summer.”
“She must be happy.”
“She told me she’d stay with you if I had to leave. She had it all figured out.”
Aurora tried not to look too pleased. “Really?”
“She thinks it would be cool, she said, to live with someone who...” He paused.
“Who what?”
“Runs a bar. And Lucia told her that you don’t cook and you have a freezer full of frozen dinners you buy from Mrs. Swallow.”
She would have preferred that particular character flaw to remain private, but then again, not much that went on in this town was kept quiet. “Has Winter grown tired of kitchen duty?”
“She complains, but she likes it when Lucia teaches her how to bake.” He smiled, but he looked uncertain. “I haven’t seen much of you this week. You wouldn’t jam with us Wednesday or Friday. Why not?”
“I’ve been busy,” she said, which was true. The Wild Judiths had gathered at the community center a couple of nights ago to entertain the tourists and locals in an “authentic” Montana jam session, but although Jake had urged her to go with him, she’d refused. It was one thing to play in Lucia’s living room, another to play in front of people she only knew from the Dahl.
She was afraid of having a panic attack.
“What?” He was looking at her strangely. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” She banished the memory of not being able to breathe, of the pounding of her heart and the feeling that she was going to die. “I’m not used to playing with a lot of people.”
“Then you’d better stick to playing with me,” he said, his voice soft enough that Jerry couldn’t hear him. “We could work on some of the old Texas swing numbers, the Bob Wills material.”
Well, that was tempting. “I don’t know....”
“Just the two of us. We’ll go over a couple of my songs, and then there’s the standard bluegrass, plus some Merle.”
“Merle?”
“Haggard. All in the key of D. Can you work up some breaks?”
He meant solos, she knew. Once she’d learned the melodies, the songs were easy enough to play. She’d been lucky to have been able to play by ear once she really listened to the music. The riffs were simple but could easily be expanded into something tricky and challenging.
She didn’t quite want to admit that she liked the challenge.
“I’m not going to play in public,” she insisted. “I know what you’re trying to do.”
“I’m trying to put together a decent band,” he admitted. “And we need a fiddle player.”
“Put an ad in the paper.”
“No way. Not when there’s one right here in town. With her own rehearsal studio.” He waved to the corner where the sound equipment was set up. “See? You’re a natural.”
“Forget it.”
“You’re having fun,” he said, leaning closer. “I think music is in your bl
ood.”
Not anymore, she wanted to say. But instead she settled for an enigmatic smile and a shake of her head.
It would take more than the charm of Jake Hove to get her back on a stage.
* * *
IT WAS NOTHING less than a triumph, Jerry realized.
It was all his dreams come true.
Except that the woman of his dreams, the woman who had made those same dreams come true, couldn’t be bothered to share it with him. She was in Victoria, in the arms of her Canadian lover, the muscled athlete who no doubt would play a future role in enhancing Tracy’s career.
“Tell me,” the seductive little redheaded reporter perched on the bar stool next to him purred. “How did you come up with this idea? It’s totally brilliant, you know. Totally brilliant.”
Jerry couldn’t ignore her. He wondered absently if her red hair was one shade lighter than his or was it two shades lighter? On her it was attractive. On him? A subject of ridicule. His mother was the only person on the planet who thought it was attractive. Even Tracy had suggested lowlights.
“Your hair,” he said, feeling the affects of his second zip code. “Do we match?”
She batted pale brown eyes at him. “We might. It’s hard to tell in this dim lighting.”
“The show is about to start,” someone announced. He thought it might be Loralee, whose voice carried across time zones.
Aurora’s five flat-screen televisions flickered to life around the bar. A round of applause and cheers erupted, but the only thing on was the Jeopardy game board, and three contestants battling it out over the two remaining Double Jeopardy categories.
A few long minutes later, the Willing to Wed promo filled the television screen. The graphic began with a vintage map of Montana; the camera zoomed in on the center. And a photo of a town appeared, and then the camera sped down the middle of Main Street. The music was Western, something like those old Bonanza shows. Jerry’s heart started pumping so hard he thought he’d lose his balance and fall off the stool.
There he was, waving at the camera. The crowd in the bar cheered and booed, but it was good-natured heckling and he didn’t take it personally. Who could?
And then it began, with the introduction of the Willing men stepping out of “Wanted” posters and twelve nervous and excited women climbing off a bus as the men greeted them.
The romance—and the salvation of a dying town—had begun.
Jerry blinked back tears.
* * *
AURORA, LUCIA AND Meg remained speechless for eight minutes after the ninety-minute premiere of Willing to Wed ended.
Aurora didn’t mean to time it, but she looked at her watch when Meg finally spoke and she realized that the three of them had stood silently on the working side of the counter while the rest of their friends, neighbors, strangers, tourists and loved ones celebrated.
“We looked good,” Meg breathed. “Except I need to start doing sit-ups again.”
“The camera adds ten pounds,” Aurora pointed out. “And you looked great. I, on the other hand, looked like a serious skeleton.”
“I looked very short,” Lucia managed, taking a sip of wine. She’d decided against sampling the zip code special earlier in the evening, claiming the caterer shouldn’t get tipsy until after the event was over. “And did I hear Iris say she was going to start giving Zumba classes again?”
“She’s going to have a full class,” Meg said. “I hope I get pregnant soon so I don’t have to take it.”
Lucia brightened. “There’s an idea.”
“You might want to set a wedding date first.” Aurora looked out at the happy crowd. The band members were carrying instruments in from the back and Jake was organizing the arrangement on the stage. Hip stood with cables in his hands listening to Jake’s instructions.
Aurora felt a small pang of envy but quickly squelched it.
“Yeah,” Meg said to her friend. “After bugging me about my wedding all winter, now it’s your turn. When are you going to marry Fish Man?”
“When the bedroom is finished,” Aurora told her. “That’s what Sam said.”
Lucia sighed. “I think we’re going to have to get married, go off on a honeymoon and come back hoping the renovation is done. Otherwise it’s going to take forever, and he’ll be sleeping in the future kitchen classroom for months.”
“No,” Sam said, overhearing her. “I’m going to put Jake in charge and I’m going to get married.” He put his arm around his fiancée. “The show has inspired me.”
“Really?” Aurora thought the concept was a little frightening. The women, though nice enough, had seemed like aliens landing on a planet in a galaxy far, far away. The Willing bachelors had stepped up and put themselves out there to impress the ladies. She thought they would be television stars now. There was no doubt that women around the country would want to meet them.
“Yeah,” Sam said. “I never, ever want to be a bachelor again.”
“No kidding,” Owen agreed, setting a tray of empty beer glasses on the counter.
“Poor Les,” Meg said, watching the young man wander aimlessly around the room. Shelly hadn’t come to the party tonight, choosing to stay home with her baby and go to bed early. Loralee was in the corner lining up dance partners. “His heart wasn’t into being on the show.”
“I can’t wait to hear the band,” Lucia said, leaning her head on Sam’s shoulder. “I just want to dance a little while.”
The boys were home with her mother-in-law, Aurora knew. And Winter was with them. Mama Maria had promised cream puffs and root beer floats, something all four children could not resist.
“Look at Jerry,” Meg said, motioning toward the table in the back. “He’s giving another interview, but this reporter looks a lot cuter than the others.”
“They’ll have lovely red-haired babies,” Meg added. “If he gets over his broken heart.”
“You have babies on the brain.” Aurora refilled her wineglass. “Maybe you and Owen should head back to the ranch early.”
“And miss the debut of Jake Hove and the Willing to Wed band? Are you kidding?”
Aurora felt the same way. She watched Jake give calm directions to the excited band members. He looked pleased to be up there on the stage. This was his world, after all, even if it was only a small stage in a very small town.
She realized she loved looking at him. She loved hearing him play his guitar. And his voice was rough and sweet and altogether seductive.
She was afraid that she was very, very close to being totally infatuated. Could she be any more ridiculous?
* * *
“SO, WHEN DO I get a horse?”
Jake pulled up in back of the huge ranch house and shut off his truck. “Man, am I tired of that question!”
“I can pay for it myself,” Winter insisted. “I can contact my solicitor and—”
“Your mother’s money can go to fund your education,” Jake repeated for, oh, maybe the seven billionth time. “I think I’ve said that before.”
He was annoyed by a lot of things right now. In the almost three weeks since the show began, he’d moved into an apartment on First Street that overlooked a freshly painted real estate office and a yard of carved wooden animals. Hip Porterman was not only an EMT and a musician, but an artist, too.
Jake was especially fond of the elk, the largest carving. The bull stood about seven feet high and had a rack that would make a hunter weep. Hip said he’d probably never sell “Herman,” owing to the size of the sculpture and the size of the price tag. But Hip didn’t seem to care about the money. Or how many critters sat in his yard waiting for buyers.
As he’d told the other members of the band last night, he was doing an amazing business in Montana-shaped napkin rings.
“I want to buy Icicle,
” Jake’s daughter said, ignoring his statement about education and money. “She’s learning to go faster and we’ve bonded. And her nose is so soft.”
Maybe these riding lessons weren’t such a good idea, after all.
Owen had invited the Swallow boys and Winter out to the ranch to celebrate the last day of school. Classes had been released early, and Meg and Lucia had planned a party for the kids after they rode. Even Sam, intent upon finishing his new home as quickly as possible, had looked forward to stopping work early to go out to the ranch. They’d left a plumber, an electrician and detailed plans back at the house. The bedroom bridge was coming along nicely, and Sam had smiled twice today.
Boo, the black dog with the big bark, ran up to greet them. Winter jumped out of the truck and, with Boo trotting merrily at her heels, headed for the barn without so much as a goodbye. Jake took a few minutes to admire the Montana ranch and the impressive amount of open space that surrounded the property. The outbuildings appeared well cared for, though Owen had described the condition of the place after his great-uncle died as a run-down mess, a place that a real estate agent had suggested he bulldoze.
The rancher had had his work cut out for him, but it looked as if that work was paying off.
He’d been busy with the apartment, with helping Sam, who had grown increasingly consumed with finishing his house, completing a master bedroom and getting married as soon as possible.
His brother had grown very tired of being alone. He wanted his wife. He wanted a wedding.
So Jake had given him twelve-hour days. Together, with the crew from Lewistown, they had made remarkable progress. Winter was content to be with Lucia or Meg or Aurora or even Mrs. Swallow. He and Sam, having spent so little time together in almost twenty years, found they were more alike than they knew. Both of them appreciated a job well done and were driven to complete tasks no matter how long it took. They formed an easy friendship, and the rare times they referred to their parents they did so with less bitterness, and with a determination to look toward the future. That, they had decided, was how they’d coped all these years. They both loved early mornings, good coffee—and lots of it—and little conversation before ten a.m. Jake was more outgoing, but Sam’s sense of humor kept his older brother laughing, especially over the Swallow boys’ antics.
The Husband Show Page 17