The Chisholm Brothers:Friends, Lovers... Husbands?

by Janis Reams Hudson

“I can save you the trouble. I’ll be fine, and I’ll be single.”

  “You’re going to be stubborn, aren’t you?” he asked.

  “In a matter of months I’ll be giving up my independence and privacy for the next eighteen to twenty-one years of my life. For the next five or six, at least, I won’t even be able to go to the bathroom alone. I don’t plan to answer to anyone until then if I can help it.”

  Justin quirked his lips. “I can’t say I blame you. I’ll see you in a few days.”

  “Justin?” she said after he had helped her out of the pickup and was returning to the driver’s side.

  “Yes?”

  “Thank you for asking me to marry you. Even though I said no, and I’ll say no again, yours is still my first proposal.”

  It occurred to Justin as he drove out of the parking lot, keeping his eyes open for a gas station before he decided if he was going home that day or not, that her second and third proposals were also likely to be his. In fact, the idea of anyone but him proposing to her didn’t sit well with him at all.

  Ponca City was an oil refinery town. Finding a gas station was no problem. He picked one a block before the interstate and pulled up to the pump.

  When he got out to fill his tank, the air felt definitely chillier than it had only moments before. He glanced up at the sky and was surprised that he hadn’t noticed before how dark and gray it had become.

  The first snowflakes melted against his face before his tank was full, but as he drove away, it seemed the sky had changed its mind and decided to hold off on the snow.

  The rest of the day did not turn out at all the way Justin thought it might. He’d thought he would either laze around a motel room if Sloan didn’t need him at home, or drive back to the ranch if he did.

  It turned out that Sloan did need him, but not at home.

  “Where are you this time?” Sloan asked, aggravation clear in his voice.

  “Ponca City.”

  “Still not going to tell me why?”

  “It’s personal.”

  “A woman? You’re running all over the damn state, letting your work pile up by the hour, because of a woman? Kid, you must have it bad.”

  “I’ll tell you about it when I get home.”

  “And when might that be?”

  “If you need me, I’ll come home right now,” Justin offered.

  “Naw,” Sloan admitted. “We’re fine. Did you say you were in Ponca City?”

  “That’s right.”

  “Maybe you could do us a favor and run over to the Ledbetter Ranch up by Blackwell. You remember the place, don’t you?”

  “Sure. What’s there?”

  “They’ve got a young Hereford bull they’ve been bragging about, but they’re asking a pretty penny for him. Maybe you could take a look at him, check out his pedigree, see if you think he’s worth it.”

  “Sure, I can do that.”

  “I’ll call and set it up.”

  Sloan made the arrangements and Justin drove up to the Ledbetter Ranch near Blackwell. The bull was good, but not good enough to justify the price, in his opinion.

  By the time he finished there it was the middle of the afternoon. He could still drive home, get there just after dark. Or he could stay in Ponca City and go see Blaire the next day rather than merely call her.

  He winced at the idea. No, he wouldn’t go to Sherry’s apartment looking for Blaire. He would call, as he’d said he would. He would give her that much space, at least.

  He ate a lonely dinner and spent a boring night watching cable TV in his motel room.

  Was he crazy, chasing all over the state after a woman who didn’t want him around?

  But was that true? Did she really not want him around, or was she only afraid to take a gamble on him?

  And why shouldn’t she be leery of such a thing? What had he ever done to earn her trust?

  Around and around in circles his mind went until he came up with the conclusion that he had no business following her around from cousin to cousin this way. It made him feel like a jerk. A desperate jerk, at that.

  Blaire tossed and turned half the night, wondering if she was doing the right thing. Maybe she should be practical and say yes to Justin.

  No. No. She refused to allow herself to end up like her mother, turn Justin into a bitter man like her father. Make their child feel as if he or she is to blame for everything that goes wrong.

  That way lay disaster.

  Perhaps her mother wouldn’t have made it on her own. Maybe she’d had no real choice but to marry.

  But Blaire was not her mother. She had a college degree, a teaching certificate and good references. Once the baby was born she would surely be able to find a new teaching position. If not, she was more than capable of doing other work.

  She didn’t need to be married to survive. She was a firm believer that marriage solely for the sake of the children was one of society’s most horrendous mistakes.

  But it was hard, turning away a man she’d been attracted to since she’d been in high school.

  Remembering their conversation at the Mexican restaurant the other night, she smiled. He had wondered why they hadn’t met years ago. That they hadn’t had been Blaire’s doing. He didn’t remember her, but she would never forget him.

  She’d been so shy back then, the new girl in a small school, when her dad had bought the feed store and moved them to Rose Rock. Justin had been out of school by the time she came to town, but she saw him anyway. He came to high school football games, rode in the county rodeos, played on local softball teams, bought feed and supplies at her father’s feed store. She’d seen him everywhere. She had followed him with her eyes, and her young heart.

  She hadn’t had the nerve to introduce herself or do anything to draw his attention.

  He hadn’t wanted for female attention, however. There’d been a different girl on his arm every other time he showed up in town. In between each new girl, there was always Melanie.

  Melanie Pruitt of the Pruitt Ranch. It was public knowledge back then that Melanie had her sights set on the eldest Chisholm, Sloan. But while the girl waited for Sloan to come to his senses and fall in love with her, she told her troubles to Caleb, and ran around with Justin. Melanie and Justin were a twosome as often as not.

  If anyone had asked Blaire, she would have said Melanie was out of her mind to pine after Sloan when Justin was there and available. Not that there was anything wrong with Sloan, but Justin…well, be still, her heart.

  By the time Blaire finished high school she’d conquered her shyness, and set her puppy love for Justin Chisholm aside. That man wasn’t about to go anywhere without his best friend Melanie.

  It seemed to Blaire there might be a lot more going on between those two than mere friendship.

  Blaire had gone with other boys, moved away to college, found a good job in Oklahoma City, had a full life.

  Then her mother had broken her arm and Blaire had come home. She would never forget that first day back in town, standing in the middle of the feed store office, where her mother normally ruled, staring in shock at the mess her father had made in the few days her mother had been out.

  She’d heard the bell over the store’s front door jingle, announcing a customer. She needn’t worry; her father was out there to take care of business.

  Then she’d heard that voice, so deep and smooth and clear. She hadn’t realized she had been carrying his voice around inside her all those years, but there it was. Justin Chisholm was in the store.

  She had sworn to herself that she was not going to peek around the door frame. She would have been entirely too mortified to live if he caught her.

  It hadn’t been too many weeks, however, before she realized he was eyeing her, checking her out. She’d been astounded. Delighted. And suddenly shy again, the insecure new kid.

  It wasn’t lost on her that he and Melanie were, as always, the closest of…companions.

  That being the case, Blaire hadn’
t for a moment thought he meant to pay her any serious attention, so she had swallowed her shyness and played it cool. If every girl in town fell at his feet—and they did—and if he had Melanie for backup—Blaire would play hard to get.

  Not that she thought for a minute that it would get her anywhere with him, but it might keep her from ending up with a broken heart.

  She’d been wrong. About several things.

  Melanie, it seemed, was never in love with Justin, nor he with her. She’d given up on Sloan some time in the past, and early in December had up and married Caleb, the middle Chisholm brother.

  Justin did not seem in the least heartbroken. In fact, he seemed pleased.

  Since that was the case, Blaire had decided to stop playing so hard to get. She let herself be caught.

  Now she carried his child, and he wanted to marry her for all the wrong reasons. She was bound to end up with a broken heart, one way or another, before they settled things between them.

  He’d said he would call her tomorrow. If he ran true to form, he wouldn’t call, he would show up at the door. If she ran true to form, she wouldn’t be there.

  Chapter Seven

  Eventually they both ran true to form.

  Blaire left Sherry’s apartment before it was light, headed to Stillwater, just over forty miles south down the two-lane blacktop, to her cousin Gayle’s. The grass was covered with snow, and the white stuff was starting to stick to the pavement.

  But she had only forty miles to go. No problem.

  She pulled out of Sherry’s parking lot and went on her merry way. Sneaking out, again, like a thief in the night, running away from a man she thought more and more might be the one she should hold on to.

  Justin saw the snow when he got up. He shrugged. Not enough to worry about, especially since he would be taking the interstate most of the way home.

  It was too early to call Blaire, so he walked across the street to the restaurant for breakfast. Afterward he went back to his room to check in with Sloan, noticing on the way that the snow was getting heavier.

  At home Sloan said that the snow was heavy and piling up fast.

  Justin swore at himself. He should have gone home last night, damn his hide. He would call Blaire, as he’d promised, then head back.

  Simple plan.

  Not so simple in application.

  Blaire was gone.

  Dammit, why hadn’t he seen it coming?

  “Did she say where she was going?” he asked Cousin Sherry.

  “The note she left said she was going to stop in on Gayle before heading home. Is something wrong?”

  He glanced out the window of his motel room at the snow that was starting to swirl in the increasing wind.

  “Have you looked outside lately?” he asked tersely.

  There was a rustling sound, then the slight clink made when someone shifted a few slats of window blinds up or down. “Oh, my,” she said. “There must be two inches already, except the wind’s blowing it sideways, so it’s hard to tell. Wow.”

  “Sherry,” he snapped. He had the feeling if he didn’t stop her, she’d go on and on about the snow for another ten minutes. “Blaire? What time did she leave?”

  “Oh. Blaire. I don’t know, really. We were going to sleep late, so that’s what I did. I woke up just a few minutes ago. She could have been gone an hour, or three. But she was only going to Stillwater. I’m sure she got there before things got this nasty.”

  “Will you do me a favor and call this other cousin and see if Blaire made it? Or give me the number and I’ll call.”

  “Oh, I’ll call. I can tell you’re worried, so I’m getting worried, too. Call me back in five.”

  The line went dead in Justin’s ear.

  Four minutes later he redialed Sherry’s number.

  “What did they say?” he demanded.

  “Okay,” Sherry said. “Now I’m worried. She isn’t there yet. In fact, nobody’s there. There was no answer, and Blaire hasn’t called or anything.”

  “Wouldn’t she have called Gayle before going down there?”

  “No. Not calling, that’s no big deal. We show up on each other’s doorsteps all the time in this family. But it’s less than an hour’s drive from here to Gayle’s. Maybe Blaire stopped to eat on the way. I’m sure she’s fine.”

  “Does she have a cell phone with her?” He could have kicked himself for not making that his first question ten minutes ago.

  “Blaire’s one of those Neanderthal throwbacks, meaning she doesn’t have a cell phone. How anyone can function in this day and age—”

  “Sherry.” The girl was nice enough, but she had the attention span of a gnat. “Tell me how to get to Gayle’s. The way Blaire would go.”

  He got the directions and address from Sherry and said he would let her know when he found Blaire.

  “Do you think she’s all right?” Sherry asked, concern plain in her voice.

  “I’m sure she’s fine,” he said, not sure at all. “She’s a smart lady. She can take care of herself.”

  “That’s right,” Sherry said. “She’s real good at that. But still, I’ll feel better when I hear from her, or you. You promise you’ll call?”

  “I promise. As soon as I find her.”

  Justin wasn’t worried about negotiating the snowy roads in his pickup. His tires were new, and he carried an extra four hundred pounds of sandbags in the bed all winter just for such occasions. That weighed him down enough that he didn’t slip and slide as much as a pickup with an empty bed.

  But he didn’t have as much confidence in Blaire’s little red compact. That thing was a tin can on wheels, and he had no idea how much tread she had on her tires. Hell, a good gust of wind, and there were plenty of those today, could blow her off the road.

  He drove the distance between Ponca City and Stillwater via U.S. Highway 177, the route Sherry said Blaire would take. There was considerably more traffic than there should have been, considering the weather, and it was creeping along at a snail’s pace. Except for the idiots who passed them going eighty on snow-slicked roads, sending up a rooster tail of snow and slush flinging across each windshield they passed, effectively blinding every driver for long, long seconds.

  Justin thought longingly about the shotgun he’d left at home. He was sure the other drivers on the road would vouch for him that it was justifiable homicide.

  He passed three vehicles off in the bar ditch, but they all looked abandoned, and none was a little red two-door with the mother of his unborn child huddling inside.

  All in all it took him an hour and a half to drive the forty miles from cousin number two to cousin number three. If anyone asked his opinion, he would have to say that the north central part of Oklahoma was being hit now by a full-fledged blizzard. The snow was razor sharp and blowing sideways.

  Judging by the condition of the snow on the ground, Justin was the first person to drive on Cousin Gayle’s street in some time.

  He told himself that if Blaire had left early enough this morning, she could easily have gotten here before the storm worsened.

  He pulled up at the house whose number matched the one Sherry gave him and felt his hopes fade. No little red car sat in the driveway.

  When you visited a cousin, did you park in her garage? None of his cousins would have let him take their protected space. In any case, there were no telltale depressions in the snow of the driveway to indicate anyone had driven on it at all.

  He got out and made his way to the front door, where he rang the doorbell, then pounded and pounded and got no answer.

  Back in his truck, he unclipped his cell phone from his belt and called Sherry.

  “Nobody’s home,” he said tersely. “Have you heard from her?”

  “No,” Sherry said. “I haven’t heard from anybody. You say nobody’s home?”

  “No one answers the door.”

  “That’s odd. Is there a green SUV in the driveway?”

  “Nothing in the driveway but
smooth snow. Nobody’s driven on it in a while.”

  “Then Gayle’s not there, and if she’s not there, nobody’s there.”

  “Where would Blaire go if she got here and found Gayle gone?”

  “She’d either come back here, or go back to Connie’s, but that’s not likely. She might just go home. She said she was going home tomorrow anyway.”

  Fear was not something Justin felt often, but now it was here and it was huge. Blaire was out there driving around in this damn blizzard in a tin can on wheels, with no cell phone to call for help if she needed it.

  “What are you going to do?” Sherry asked.

  “I’m going to find her.”

  But which way to go? he wondered after disconnecting the call. Back north toward Ponca City, or west toward the interstate? Surely if she headed home it would be via the interstate. It had to have been snowing by the time she made it to Gayle’s. She wouldn’t have stuck to the back roads and two-lane highways in this weather.

  Would she?

  No. He’d told Sherry that Blaire was smart, and she was. He had to assume that she would use her head.

  But since she had left Sherry’s this morning instead of waiting for the call she knew he would make, then she was running partly on emotion.

  Had she been afraid he would show up, as he had at Connie’s and Sherry’s? If that’s what she thought, and she hadn’t wanted to talk to him anymore for the time being, then she would have left without a qualm. Or with only a few qualms, at the most.

  After driving to Stillwater, with bad weather starting, she would have no reason to go back to Ponca City, where she’d known him to be.

  No, he thought, starting his engine and driving out of the quiet, snow covered neighborhood. Blaire was headed home.

  Justin intended to follow.

  Blaire gripped the steering wheel so hard her knuckles threatened to break through her thin leather gloves. The blinding snow was bad enough without having a car or truck whiz past her in the left lane and stir it all up even worse.