Can't Stop Loving You (30 page)

“I can understand that.”

“Yeah, I think you can. You needed to find yourself, too. It's why you went to New York. We're kindred spirits, Red. Too bad that's what's been keeping us apart.”

He took her hand. “We wouldn't have lasted, Maggie, if we'd married way back then. Both of us would have given up our dream. A year, two at the most, and we'd have ruined what we had.”

“So you did it sooner.”

“No! Yes. I guess.” He raked fingers through his hair. “I figured without me in the picture, you'd go off to that fancy design school you'd been yammering about.”

“Yammering?”

“Don't nitpick. Pops offered to send you. To pay the freight.”

“I stayed here. At first because I thought you might come back. Then Grandma got sick, and Pops needed help. After she passed, well, I like it here. I worked hard and opened my shop. I was happy. It was what I wanted.”

“I see that now. You belonged here, not in some big city. And before you go getting your back up, that's not a bad thing. I'm not slamming you. I'm complimenting you. You knew, even then, where you belonged, where your heart was. It took me years to come back to mine.”

Tears threatened, and she blinked them away.

“What do you want now, Maggie? From life.”

She wanted to say, “You, just you.” But she bit the words back, figuring that wasn't what he'd want to hear. Instead, she said, “Let's talk about you. What do you want?”

“Me?”

“Do you still feel penned in by the small town atmosphere? The lack of fancy restaurants and shops? The lack of privacy?”

“No, I don't. That piece of land I showed you out by the lake?”

“A slice of heaven.”

“I bought it.”

She drew back. “You did? Oh, Brawley, that's fantastic!”

“I hoped you'd feel that way because I intend to build a house on it. You asked me what I want. That's it. I want to wake up every day for the rest of my life right there.”

“That would be wonderful.”

“Yes, it would.” He took her hand. “The thing is, Maggie, I need someone to share it. I need you. I want you there beside me every morning.”

“You do?”

“I do.”

A nervous half-laugh escaped her. “That sounds like a proposal.”

“Yes, it does, doesn't it?” He kissed her fingertips.

Maggie could barely catch her breath. He had to feel her heart racing; he could probably hear it.

Right there in the middle of town, beside the flickering bonfire, Brawley dropped to one knee. “Maggie Sullivan, I love you. You're my first love and my last love. How about you design another wedding gown? For yourself this time. For our wedding. Will you put me out of my misery and marry me?”

“Oh.” She raised a hand to her mouth. “Are you serious?”

“For Pete's sake, Red, I'm down on my knee. I'm asking you to marry me. I understand you need to go back to New York. We'll work it out. I don't expect you to give that up.”

She shook her head. “You were right, Brawley, when you said I'm not a big city girl. I've already decided to stay right here. I'll fly back East on an as-needed basis. I'm Texas through and through.”

“When did you decide that?”

“Last week.”

A lopsided grin curved his lips. “I have this, too.” From his back pocket, he withdrew a jeweler's box and flipped it open.

Light from the bonfire caught on the magnificent emerald, flanked on either side by a diamond.

“Brawley. I don't know what to say.”

“Say yes.”

“Yes! Yes, yes, yes.” She flung her arms around his neck and kissed him.

He drew her close. When they finally parted, he whispered, “If you don't like the emerald, we can exchange it for a diamond. I saw this, though, and…” He shrugged. “The fiery green made me think of you.”

“I love it.” She held out her hand.

As he slid the ring on her finger, she said, “I love you, Brawley Odell.”

“That's the best news I've ever heard, Red, 'cause I've tried and tried, but I just can't stop lovin' you.”

This pie combines the flavors of chocolate, marshmallow, and malt, and doesn't require baking. What could be better? This is a great make-ahead dessert.

Combine marshmallows, chocolate chips, milk, and salt in a microwave-safe bowl. Set the microwave to medium and melt, stirring occasionally. Do not let the ingredients boil. Cool until slightly thickened.

In a mixing bowl, combine whipping cream, malted milk powder, and vanilla. Beat until very thick. Fold in the chocolate-marshmallow mixture.

Spoon this filling into the chocolate graham cracker crust, and chill at least three hours before serving.

If desired, decorate the top of the pie with chocolate shavings or chopped pecans.

Lynnette Austin grew up in Pennsylvania's Allegheny Mountains and moved to upstate New York, then to the Rockies in Wyoming. Presently she and her husband divide their time between southwest Florida's beaches and Georgia's Blue Ridge Mountains. She has a master's in educational leadership and taught middle school language arts before leaving to write full-time. Her books have been finalists in Romance Writers of America's national Golden Heart contest, PASIC's Book of Your Heart contest, and Georgia Romance Writers' Maggie contest.
Somebody Like You
is the first in her Maverick Junction series, followed by
Nearest Thing to Heaven
and
Can't Stop Lovin' You
. Her other books, written as Lynnette Hallberg, include
Enchanted Evening
,
Moonlight, Motorcycles, and Bad Boys
,
Chantilly Lace and a Pretty Face
,
Night Shadows
, and
Just a Little White Lie
. Lynnette loves to read, write, and lose herself in her characters' world. She also enjoys traveling—always on the lookout for new characters or a new story. Visit Lynnette at www.authorlynnetteaustin.com.

Y
ou've got to be kidding me.”

Annelise Montjoy motored her Harley along what appeared to be the town's main street. This was Maverick Junction?

A blue Cadillac, surely old enough to be in a museum, was parked nose-in to the curb. An incredibly ugly dog sat in the front seat.

Thank God, this, the final destination of her cross-country trip from Boston, was temporary. It looked like the kind of place you ran
away
from, not toward. If luck was on her side, she'd be out of here in a couple of weeks at the most.

And then a store door opened and her breath caught.
Go, Texas!
Look at that cowboy. So different from any of the men in her life. So…intriguing. She slowed to nearly a standstill and watched as he swiped an arm across his forehead, then dumped a grocery bag in the back seat of the old Caddy.

Cracking open a bottle of water, he turned his head in her direction. Her breath hitched as his gaze ran lazily over her, her bike. Then he snagged a Styrofoam cup from inside his car and filled it before setting it on the blistering pavement for the dog waiting patiently beside him.

Leaning against the faded fender, he thumbed back his battered Stetson and chugged the rest of the water. Twisting the cap back on, he tossed the bottle into the recycling bin beside the grocer's door.

Annelise pulled her bike into a parking space across the street, deliberately turning her back on the stranger. While his clothes might have been stereotypical cowboy—worn jeans, a faded T-shirt, cowboy boots, and hat—he took everything from simmer to boiling point. The jeans hugged long legs, while the shirt stretched taut across his muscled chest. There was something very alluring about him and that surprised her. He wasn't the kind of man she was usually drawn to.

He shouldn't appeal to her.

He did.

Not so much as a breeze stirred. The flag on the post office hung limp, and the cheerful red, white, and blue balloons someone had hung outside a beauty salon drooped listlessly.

Unable to stop herself, she peeked in the bike's rearview mirror. Cowboy was bent over, talking to the dog. Quite a view, but she wasn't here to admire a fine jean-clad butt. She needed something cold to drink and something light to eat. Then she'd go in search of Dottie Willis and the apartment she'd rented over the Internet. Maverick Junction, Texas. Annelise wished she was driving through, wished she could view it as simply a spot on the map where she'd stopped for lunch one summer day.

Well, she'd just have to work fast.

But before she'd even taken two steps, her cell rang. She checked caller ID, blew out a huge sigh, and dutifully answered.

“Annelise, where are you? When are you coming home?” Her mother's voice sounded strained.

“Don't worry, Mom. Are you and Dad okay?”

“We're fine.”

“Grandpa?”

“He's had a good day. A good week, actually.” Her mother hesitated. “He misses you.”

“I miss him, too.”

“Then come home.”

“I can't.”

“You're being selfish.”

“No, I'm not. I'm trying to help while the rest of you stand by and do nothing.”

“We're respecting Vincent's wishes.”

Her grandfather, her strong, always in control grandfather, had been diagnosed with acute myeloid leukemia. After aggressive treatment by the country's best doctors, Vincent Montjoy was in remission. But the prognosis wasn't good. Her grandfather needed a bone marrow transplant, and none of the family matched.

And then, Annelise's whole world had flipped upside down—again. There was hope. It turned out he might have a half sister. One who could carry the life-saving marrow match. One he'd adamantly forbidden anyone to track down.

Well, she would.

And that's why she was in Maverick Junction, Texas. Why she'd ridden her Harley here from Boston.

Her first stop had been at a sorority sister's whose husband was a whiz with both computers and genealogy. If anyone could ferret out the information she needed, it would be him. By the time she'd left the next morning, Ron had already been knee-deep in research for her.

But she hadn't taken into account the physical toll of riding the heavy motorcycle a couple thousand miles. By the time she'd been on the bike for an eight-hour stretch, her butt and legs ached. Sharing the highway with semis, hour after hour, alone, was no picnic.

“Annelise Elizabeth Katherine Montjoy, you
will
get on a plane today and come home. We'll arrange transport for that motorcycle of yours.”

“Mom—”

“Not another word, honey. Tell me where you are, and I'll phone you back once your travel arrangements are made. Silas will pick you up at the airport.”

“No.”

Her mother sighed. “You're sure you're safe? Nobody—”

“I'm fine, Mother. Believe me. I'm right where I need to be.” With that, she hung up.

Guilt nagged at her. When you had as much money as her family, the threat of kidnapping always hung over you. For as long as she could remember, she'd had her own bodyguards. Which equaled no privacy. Two muscle-bound men tagging along had turned more than one date into a fiasco.

But she couldn't let her parents or her grandfather worry. She'd call her cousin. Later. Right now, she was thirsty. She headed for the café.

Seated toward the back of Sally's Place, Annelise heard the door open and close. The bell overhead jingled as outside heat rushed in. Without even looking, she knew who'd blown in with it. Well, he was no concern of hers. In all fairness, she doubted there was anywhere else to eat lunch in this one-pony town.

Annelise went back to studying the menu. Chili, country-fried steak, burritos, enchiladas, and just about anything that could be deep-fried.

A pair of dusty boots stopped at her table. She lifted her head and looked straight into the greenest eyes she'd ever seen. For an instant, all sense left her; speech deserted her.

“Seems there're no tables left,” Cowboy said. “Mind if I sit with you?” Without waiting for an answer, he pulled out a chair.

She blinked, sanity returning. Her gaze swept the wealth of unoccupied tables. “No empty tables?”

“Well—” He held out his hands, palms up.

Up close, Cowboy was wicked handsome. If she wasn't dead set on settling in today so she could head over to Lone Tree tomorrow— “Actually, I'm afraid I do mind.”

He cocked his head, tipped back his cowboy hat. “Not very neighborly.”

“Good thing I'm not your neighbor, then.”

“Ouch.” He grimaced. “I don't bite, and I've had all my shots.”

Sadly, she shook her head. “I suppose someone told you that line was cute.”

“Nope.” He looked at the chair, then back at her.

“I don't mean to be rude, but I have a lot on my mind, and I really don't want company.”

“Okay, let's head at it from a different direction. I do. Need company, that is. I've been out on the ranch with nothing but surly bulls and even meaner cowhands for way too long. Sure would be a pleasure to sit across from you for a few minutes. I won't hold you up. Honest. When you're ready to go, you go.”

Her mouth dropped open. “Are all Texans this persistent?”

He narrowed his eyes in consideration. “We might be. Guess that's why we lost so many good men at the Alamo. Texans hate to throw in the towel. Never can tell when things might start going your way.”

Despite herself, Annelise laughed. She hadn't expected such a rough-and-tumble-looking cowboy to be so optimistic.

The owner chose that moment to wander over. “Hey, Cash, ain't seen you in a while.”

“Been busy breaking in a couple new horses and doing some branding. So, how's my favorite gal, Sally?”

“My feet hurt, and my cook's throwin' a tantrum. Other than that, all's good.” Sally pushed at frizzy blond hair and snapped her gum. “How 'bout you?”

“Can't complain. Tell you what I'd love right now, though. A tall glass of your sweet tea. Lots of ice.” He dropped into the chair beside her.

Annelise gaped at him. Cowboy was one smooth operator.

“Comin' right up. How 'bout you, sweetheart? You want some tea?”

“Yes. That would be wonderful. Unsweetened, please. And I'd prefer to drink it without company.” She shot Cash a get-lost look. He simply smiled back.

Sally's gaze shifted between the two of them. When Cash made no move to change tables, she asked, “Need a minute to look at the menu?”

“No. I'd like your house salad with vinaigrette dressing on the side.”

“That's gonna be your lunch?” Cash scowled. “That's all you're getting?”

Annelise sat up straighter. “I hate to be rude, but I have a lot to do today. I came in for lunch. Not company.”

“Understood.”

Still, he didn't move.

What was with him? So much for Texans being gentlemen. Anger, an emotion she rarely allowed herself, lapped at her. Mentally counting to ten, she turned her attention to Sally. “Just the salad, please.”

“That's not enough,” Cash said.

“Who are you? The lunch patrol?”

“You'd dang well be eating better if I was. I'd order a nice steak, some hand-cut fries, and a big old piece of Ms. Sally's apple pie à la mode for you.”

“For lunch?”

“Darn tootin'.”

“I'll stick with my salad, thanks.”

When their waitress headed off, Cash said, “You're sure more hospitable with her than you are with me.”

She shrugged. “Like I said, you can move to another table if you'd like.”

His gaze traveled past her, and he stood suddenly. “Excuse me.”

More than a little disappointed, she turned in her chair and watched him cross the room, his stride easy. Despite what she'd said, a traitorous part of her had actually hoped he'd stay.

He walked over to where an older woman struggled to slide her chair from the table. Giving her a quick kiss on the cheek, he reached out to her. “Can I help?”

With a sigh, the woman laid a shaky hand in his. “This getting old isn't for sissies.” Standing, she said, “You're a good boy, Cash Hardeman. But that doesn't mean I've forgotten about the snake you and Brawley Odell put in my desk.”

He picked up her purse and carried it with him as he walked her slowly toward the door. “You've got a memory like an elephant, Mrs. Sandburg.”

“And don't you forget it.” At the door, she called out, “Sally, I left the check on the table. That pie of yours was as good as ever.”

“See you next week,” Sally answered.

“You bet.” She patted Cash's cheek. “I can manage from here. Tell your mother hello for me when she and your dad get home.”

“Will do.” He waited till she started down the walk and then returned to Annelise's table.

Something about the easy candidness of this Texas cowboy tugged at her. His kindness touched her heart. But she needed to stay focused on the reason she'd come.

“So.” He reached for the tea Sally slid him and took a long drink of the cool, soothing liquid. Setting it down, he asked, “Where were we?”

She raised her chin a notch. “I'd just told you that you could move if you didn't like my company.”

“Right.” He grinned. “I like it fine, thanks. You have a name?”

“Yes. I do.”

“Ah.” He nodded. “But you're not willing to share.” He shot out a hand toward her. “I'm Cash. Cash Hardeman.”

“I heard.” She hesitated, then sighed and extended her own hand. “Hello, Cash. I'm Annelise.”

“Nice to meet you, Annelise. You just get that bike?” He nodded toward the street. “Must've paid through the teeth for it.”

“My guilty pleasure.” She smiled. The bike represented her first rebellion—her first step toward independence. “I've had it for almost a year now. Some friends wanted to do the fall leaf tour on motorcycles. One of them took me to a Hanniford grocery store parking lot after hours and taught me how to ride. Then he helped me pick out a bike. My father about had a conniption.”

Cash laughed. “I can imagine.”

“Why?”

“Big bike for a wom—anybody to handle.”

“Oh, good save.” She laughed and shook her head. “You're fast.”

“You'd better believe it.” He studied her a minute. “The fall leaf tour? So you're from New England, Annelise?”

Her eyes shuttered. She'd screwed up. “No. I was there visiting.” She almost choked on the lie, but she had no choice. His expression said he wasn't buying it. Well, too bad. Once she left this café, she'd never see Cash Hardeman again. A chance meeting. That's all this was. It made no difference whether or not he believed her.

“You ride a lot?” he asked.

“Unfortunately, no. I took the bike out for two weekends last fall and it's been parked ever since. Till this trip.”

“Too bad.” He swiped at the water ring on the table.

Her eyes widened. Through the front window, she watched the cowboy's mud-brown dog sail through the air and scramble into the old car.

“Cash?”

“Hmmm?”

She pointed toward the window. “That big, hairy dog of yours just executed the best impersonation of Superman I've ever witnessed.”

“Huh?”

“The animal may or may not be able to leap tall buildings, but he sure managed to clear the door of that big old monstrosity you're driving. Right now, he's working his way through the groceries in the back seat.”

“Oh, brother!” Cash jumped up and ran outside to salvage what he could.

She watched him go and stabbed a forkful of lettuce, wishing the salad would morph into that juicy steak he'd suggested. Oh, well, she sighed. Some things weren't meant to be.