Melissa Cutler - Cowboy Justice

The only indication that he hadn’t gone into a trancelike state of sports-viewing was when Kellan slid a twenty across the table to Jenna and he shifted his focus away from the TV to follow the movement of the money with his eyes.

Amy reappeared at her side. “Rachel, I’m sure you remember Howard Keibler. I invited him to join us for supper.”

Huh? She tore her gaze from Vaughn and scanned the room. Sure enough, Howard Keibler sat near the window, grinning at her like a salesman. Did Amy honestly think she’d be interested in a guy like Howard Keibler? Not only no, but hell, no.

Then again, she couldn’t fault Amy for not knowing that Howard had a penchant for getting overly friendly with his hands when he’d had a bit too much to drink, and had copped a feel on Rachel more times than she cared to recall after cornering her at livestock auctions and the county fair. He’d also asked her out at least a half dozen times already, but seemed to be having a problem understanding the word no.

Amy shoved a plateful of food into her hands. Good thing she did, because Rachel had been contemplating a plan to strangle her. Jenna too. What a little liar, telling her Vaughn wasn’t attending. And why was he here in the first place? She’d told him to stay away from her. Since when had he stopped respecting her wishes?

Feeling the stares of the people in the room still on her, she looked at the plate of food and deliberated whether to ask to speak to her sisters in private to get her questions answered or make a break for it.

Make a break for it. Definitely.

She pivoted and had a hand on the door when Amy took hold of her shoulders. “Oh, no, you don’t. I saved you a seat next to Howard.”

Sure enough, a single, empty seat waited for her between Howard and Mr. Dixon. She barely caught the groan before it escaped her throat as she contemplated the many unsavory things Howard might do with his hands under the table if she sat next to him.

Harsh whispers and a tussle of movement near Jenna and Vaughn caught her eye. Kellan stood, clearing his throat. “Uh, actually, Amy, I was hoping Rachel could sit over here. I have some farm business I’ve been meaning to discuss with her and Ben.” He gestured to the seat directly across from Vaughn.

Amy clucked in protest and shot Kellan a warning glare, but released her.

Not too late to run, she reasoned. Then Jenna was behind her. She took a firm grip on Rachel’s elbow and whispered close to her ear. “It’s time for you to cowboy up and put on your big-girl panties.”

Rachel scoffed and whispered, “I’m pretty sure cowboys don’t wear big-girl panties.”

“Oh, hush. You know what I mean.” And she strong-armed Rachel all the way to the table and sat her down, like she was no bigger than Tommy. “Besides, don’t judge. Maybe some cowboys do.”

“Do what?” Kellan asked.

Rachel looked across the table at him, at a total loss for words.

“Hi,” Vaughn said.

She looked his way. He wore a kind, if cautious smile, and the only thought in her brain was, had she remembered to reapply deodorant when she freshened up in the stable? As her panic mounted, she remembered that she had, but she wished she’d had the chance to shower or change clothes. “Hi,” she managed to croak out.

“So, Kellan,” Vaughn said. “What’s the plan for you and Amy moving in together?”

Kellan finished cleaning the rib he was working on. “Next week, she’s moving into my place. Our place, that is.”

“Three months before your wedding? That’s awfully scandalous,” Vaughn said. His arm darted out and he pulled Rachel’s plate in his direction.

Too stunned to protest, she watched it go, holding her fork.

“You know me and Amy, we love to whip up a good scandal,” Kellan said, his eyes on Rachel’s plate too.

Vaughn scraped her pasta onto his plate. “Good timing, with the inn closed for the summer and the restaurant only open on weekends.” He slid Rachel’s plate back in her direction.

She couldn’t decide if she was spellbound that he’d saved her from the pasta or horrified that he’d done something as intimate as take food off her plate in front of everybody they knew.

“That was the idea,” Kellan said.

He looked like he maybe wanted to ask about the pasta, but Rachel was saved from explaining by Ben Torrey, who was sitting to her left. “Have you chosen a best man, yet?”

Kellan nodded. “Vaughn and Chris and I already talked about it. They know I asked my brother, Jake, to be my best man.”

Vaughn rolled his beer along the table. “But I get to plan your bachelor party, right?”

“Not sure. Things are strained enough between me and Jake. I’m not going to step in it by making assumptions.”

Amy, who’d been running around filling people’s plates with seconds, plopped onto the bench next to Kellan. “On the other hand, if you had multiple best men, then it won’t look as lopsided since I have both my sisters as maids of honor.”

Rachel waved her hands. “You know I’d be just as happy watching from the audience, right?”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Amy said.

“When am I ever ridiculous? I mean, honestly.”

Amy released a deep, beleaguered sigh. “Well, Rach, you and I have another month or so to argue about it before you give in to my wishes. I want you and Jenna right up next to me when I say I do.”

“What about me?” Kellan asked, nudging her with his elbow. “Sounds like it’s going to be crowded up there. Will there be room enough for me to stand next to you too?”

Grinning like the fool in love that she was, Amy dobbed a smear of barbecue sauce on his nose.

“When I get married,” Jenna said, “I want a big church wedding and a white dress, the whole bit. My bridesmaids in sky blue, white roses all over the church and in my bouquet. I can hardly wait.”

Amy gave her a teasing smile. “All you need is the groom.” Her eyes flickered to Matt, who was deep in conversation with Tommy and Daisy across the room.

Jenna’s gaze traveled to him too. “That’s proving to be the tricky part. What about you, Rachel? What kind of wedding would you want?”

Rachel drilled her with her best warning look. Jenna’s eyes got as huge as lemons.

Amy tapped a finger on her chin. “You’d elope, right? That’s my guess. You hate being the center of attention. Heck, you don’t want to be near the altar for my wedding.”

Rachel pushed a rib bone around on the plate. “You both know good and well I’ve never once lazed around, daydreaming about my wedding day.”

Jenna tapped her fingers on the table. “Oh, come on. We’re just having fun. What kind of wedding would you have if you found that special someone? Would you elope, like Amy thinks?”

Rachel took a slow drink of iced tea and cleared her throat. Do not look at Vaughn. Answer the question so they’ll stop harassing you, and don’t look at Vaughn. Staring at her plate, she said, “Amy’s wrong. I wouldn’t elope. I’d get married right in the living room. By the fireplace. That’s where our parents got married. I’d want to carry on the tradition. Only close family and friends, not a big fuss. I might not even wear white, but just a simple country dress.”

Everyone at the table had gone quiet, listening. She looked at Amy, who was gazing at her with a dreamy smile. “Sounds wonderful. I hope you get to do that someday.”

Don’t look at him.

But she glanced in his direction anyway. He was watching her, his lips a flat line, his shoulders so tense they nearly touched his earlobes. He gave her a barely perceptible nod. Like he approved of her plan.

She grabbed her iced tea but couldn’t lift it for the trembling in her hand. She held on tight to the cold glass, so lightheaded that she felt like her spirit was floating away from her body.