A Cowboy's Woman (15 page)

Read A Cowboy's Woman Online

Authors: Cathy Gillen Thacker

BOOK: A Cowboy's Woman
8.14Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
“Except that you are married,” Greta interrupted gently, thinking, he had accomplished one thing on the list. Two, if you counted buying the horse ranch and settling down. “At least so far as our parents know.”
“You know what I mean,” Shane said heavily, grasping her by the shoulders. “Married as in
really
married.”
Not just playing at it,
Greta thought, as the two of them walked out into the aisle.
“Anyway, my dad just read me the riot act for not taking our relationship seriously enough.” Shane shook his head and looked out at the distance, as if he were at the limit of his endurance. He turned to her and pressed a hand tenderly to her lips. Suddenly the merriment was back in his eyes. “If only he knew,” Shane said softly.
Yes
, Greta thought, not sure whether to be elated or discouraged at the way things were going.
If only they all knew.
Chapter Eight
“A
ll I'm saying is that he had a right to be miffed,” Tillie told Greta when she and Bart stopped by the dance hall Friday morning. Greta guided her parents out of earshot of the produce people, who were busy delivering crates of fresh fruit and vegetables directly into the walkin refrigerator. “So if he behaved badly last night it was his way of letting you know you're just not cutting it as a wife thus far.”
Her mother's criticism was so sharp and well aimed it took Greta's breath away. The fact that her father seemed to be backing it up 100 percent was even worse. Greta signaled to the three cooks she'd hired to prepare the daily dinner specials to carry on without her, and then she ushered her parents into the next room.
Greta looked out the window as the dairy truck pulled up and another delivery person stepped out. What had been a longtime dream of hers was fast becoming a reality. Her parents should have been damn proud of her, for the way she was pulling everything together, yet all they could think was how disappointed they were in her about her personal life! She turned back to her parents. “You know how busy I've been with the dance hall,
trying to get ready for the grand opening tomorrow night.”
Tillie straightened the hems of her summerweight sweater set and shook her head sadly. “Honey, I hate to say it, but that's no excuse. Look at all the other McCabe wives. They work and manage to keep their husbands happy. Lilah worked as a nurse at the hospital all these years and ran a household and raised four boys, and John McCabe is still wildly in love with her. Josie is running an oil rig and keeping Wade very satisfied from the looks of things. Lacey's a physician, and she threw a party last night for the family, moved into a new home, married and went on a honeymoon with Jackson all in the past few weeks. They all juggle. And yet their husbands are all happy.”
Greta went back over to the table where she'd been busy working before the deliveries started. Her chin set stubbornly, she reached for another knife, fork and spoon from the bins. “You think I can't compete with those superwomen?” she snapped, plucking the silverware down in the center of the freshly laundered and starched cloth napkin. In the background the sound system played the latest Faith Hill-Tim McGraw duet.
Tillie patted her arm gently. “I think you're not trying.”
“Look, honey,” Bart said, as he picked up some silverware and a napkin and, following Greta's lead, began to roll up silverware, too. “You know your mother and I didn't approve of your hasty marriage to Shane. But once you get past all his wildness—which, by the way, we think is all for show—he's a good man, from a good family. He's got money and a future. And he's proven time and time again he can achieve anything he sets his mind to. No one's got a more competitive spirit than
Shane McCabe. And despite your unusual start to this marriage, when he looks at you sometimes...” his eyes softening, Bart struggled to find the right words “—there is something special there... the kind of spark between two people that doesn't happen everyday.”
“It's called chemistry,” Greta mumbled, hating the worry she saw in both her parents' eyes. And it had led the two of them to throw caution to the wind and consummate their marriage the night before.
“Yes, well, whatever it is, the two of you have that in abundance. We've all seen it. In fact, we discussed that after you left the party last night. Everyone agrees Shane has never been as intrigued with a woman as he appears to be with you.”
“So we think you two should make the best of it,” Tillie continued.
“After all, not all marriages are built on love,” Bart continued in his father-knows-best tone. “Sometimes that comes later.”
Tillie nodded her head in earnest agreement. “Romantic love fades, anyway.”
“Has it for the two of you?” Greta asked, her hands stilling abruptly.
Tillie and Bart turned to each other and clasped hands, all the love they had always felt for her, and each other, in their eyes. “Well, n-no...” Tillie sputtered, embarrassed, “but we always knew we were destined to be together.”
Bart wrapped his arm around Tillie's shoulders and hugged her close. “You know our story, honey,” he reminded Greta gently. “We started dating in high school.”
And in high school, Greta thought, Shane could barely give her the time of day. She could count the times on
one hand when they'd actually talked to each other in anything akin to a conversation.
“Anyway,” Tillie continued enthusiastically, lacing an arm affectionately about Bart's waist, “your father and I've talked about it, and we discussed it with John and Lilah and all three of Shane's brothers last night, as well as Wade's wife, Josie, and Jackson's wife, Lacey, and we're all going to work together to make sure your marriage gets off to a proper start.”
Bart nodded, his expression as serious and concerned as Tillie's. “We can't exactly undo that elopement you two had. But we can certainly see your marriage gets off to a much more proper—and public—beginning. Starting tonight.”
Greta groaned at the enthusiastic new plans that had replaced her parents' earlier concerns. “The wedding reception,” she mumbled again, remembering.
“Right,” Tillie and Bart replied in unison.
Greta couldn't help it. She moaned, even louder.
“Now, I know you probably don't have anything appropriate to wear,” Tillie continued, reading only the first of Greta's many anxieties about the Big Event.
Greta rolled her eyes. “You can say that again.” Plus, she was so busy with deliveries and wait-staff meetings and training she didn't know when she would ever have a chance to shop.
“But not to worry,” Tillie smiled brightly. As usual, she was several steps ahead of Greta on the domestic front. “I've already arranged for Jenna Lockhart to come over and get your measurements this morning.”
 
NO SOONER HAD GRETA managed to get rid of her well-meaning but far-too-pushy parents, than Jenna Lockhart breezed in. The owner of the premier women's clothing
boutique in the state, and an up-and-coming designer in her own right, she was also an old school chum of Greta's. Growing up, Greta had often thought that the four Lockhart women were, in many respects, the community's answer to the McCabe men in terms of stubbornness, spirit and family pride. And, not surprisingly, the Lockhart women were just as hard to pin down when it came to their love lives. None had married, or at last count, intended to marry anytime soon. They were all too interested in pursuing their careers and maintaining their freedom.
Given the way her life was going, Greta thought, as the two women retired to Greta's private office to take her measurements, that did not seem like such a bad thing.
Jenna whipped out her tape measure, pad and pen. She took one look at Greta's face and grinned. “Let me guess. Tillie strikes again.”
Greta nodded. “She's driving me crazy.”
“She and Lilah mean well.” Jenna stretched her measuring tape across Greta's shoulders. “And look at it this way, you're getting a wedding reception with none of the usual headaches, since you don't have to bother with any of the details.”
Greta held her arm above her head as Jenna measured from the underside of her arm to her waist. “The way things have been going, I don't even want to go.”
“Ah, but you must.” Jenna paused to scribble measurements down on the pad before grinning optimistically. “Besides, you're going to look beautiful.”
Greta didn't doubt that for a moment. It was impossible to slip into one of Jenna's designs and hot look stunning, no matter what your size or shape. And the woman in her did want to look as good as possible for
Shane. Still, this was awfully last minute. “You really have something for me to wear?” Greta asked.
“Oh, yeah.” Jenna nodded contentedly. “That is, if .you trust me to take what I already have in the shop and pick the dress that is so dazzling you'll take Shane's breath away.”
Trust wasn't the issue. “I don't have time tq come over for an actual fitting—” Greta said as Jenna soberly measured Greta from shoulder to ankle. She had the wait staff coming to pick up the red-white-and-blue Lone Star Dance Hall T-shirts and bandannas that would, along with denim skirts and jeans, comprise their uniforms. They also had to fill out the tax forms required by the government that would enable them to get paid.
“It's okay. I'll use the dressmaker's dummy,” Jenna told Greta breezily. “And don't worry about the bill. Your folks are taking care of it.”
“Thanks.” Greta continued to hold up her arms as Jenna measured her bust, hips, and waist. “You know this party's going to be held outdoors—at John and Lilah's ranch?”
Jenna nodded and rocked back on her heels. “I'm thinking ethereal and breezy, if that's okay with you.”
Greta nodded enthusiastically. “Sounds good.”
Jenna smiled. “Any idea how you're going to be wearing your hair? Up or down?”
“Probably swept up off my neck,” Greta decided. It would be cooler.
“Perfect.” Jenna collected her belongings. “I've got another two appointments back-to-back late this afternoon, but I'll have someone bring your dress over to you by five. Will that give you enough time? I know the festivities are supposed to start around eight tonight.”
“Plenty of time,” Greta said. Now all she had to do was gather up her courage, and go.
 
SHANE HEARD THE SOUND system from the parking lot. Greta had it cranked up full blast. But judging from the absence of other cars and trucks in the parking lot, there did not appear to be anyone else there with her. Not sure what he'd find, he walked into the club. Greta was in leotards, dancing her heart out, looking every bit as incredibly graceful and talented as a pro. He watched entranced as, completely oblivious to him, she spun and shimmied and poured her heart and soul out to the foot-tapping beat. When the song ended—all too soon in his opinion—she went into the splits bending over her outstretched knee in a deep graceful bow.
Shane broke the silence with a long, low wolf whistle of appreciation.
Greta looked up, her face flushed becomingly. “I didn't know you were there.”
He noted the perspiration dotting her face and the way her leotard was clinging damply to her lithe, supple body. “Obviously.” He helped her up, trying hard not to notice the jutting ends of her nipples and the way her leotard closely molded the soft swell of her breasts. He rocked forward on his heels, hoping to ease the pressure building at the front of his jeans. “Shouldn't you be saving a little something for the reception tonight?”
Greta grabbed a white cotton towel from a nearby table. She wiped the dampness from her face and neck. Studied him wordlessly. “You don't know, do you?” she guessed softly.
“What?” With effort, Shane kept his eyes from dropping to her breasts again.
Greta smiled wryly as she took him by the wrist.
“Your parents sent over something for you to wear.” Wordlessly she led him across the dance floor to her private office. Hanging on the door were two garment bags, one bearing the logo of a local men's shop, the other the logo of Jenna Lockhart's boutique.
Shane stared in amazement at the contents of the longer garment bag. “Is that a wedding dress?”
Greta grimaced. “Yes, as a matter of fact, Shane, it is.”
He shook his head in silent commiseration.
“And guess what they sent over for you to wear?” Greta continued sweetly.
Shane drew a bolstering breath. “I'm afraid to ask.”
“A tuxedo and black dress boots.”
Figured. Shane sidestepped several boxes of brand-new dinner, beverage and dessert menus and seated himself on the edge of Greta's desk. He folded his arms in front of him. “Who's idea was this?”
Greta threw up her hands. “Does it even matter?” She turned a thoroughly exasperated glance to him. “I don't even want to go.”
He didn't either. But that was neither here nor there, under the circumstances. “Given the fact that the whole damn town has been invited to this shindig out at my parents' ranch,” Shane returned dryly, “I don't think we have that option.”
“Sure we do.” Greta grinned impishly as she looped the ends of her towel playfully around his neck. “We'll just send our regrets.”
“And have my three brothers hunt us down and cart us there, regardless of our feelings?” Shane hooked a hand around her waist and tugged her between his spread legs. “No. No way.”
Looking completely comfortable in his loose embrace,
Greta situated herself on his lap. She looked up at him questioningly. “So you don't mind they're carrying this to extremes?”
Shane shrugged. “Well. We did agree to a reception.” And he couldn't say he minded anything that would give him an excuse to kiss and hold and be close to Greta.

Other books

Double Crossed by Carter, Ally
At the Behest of the Dead by Long, Timothy W.
Knockout by John Jodzio
Strange Powers by Colin Wilson
Gryphon by Charles Baxter
Pink Neon Dreams by Lee Ann Sontheimer Murphy