Kate Hoffmann - Dodging Cupid's Arrow

Perrie looked up from the floor as she pulled on a pair of oversize rubber boots and shrugged into a down parka. An invisible dog, a jealous truck and an old man more than a few sandwiches shy of a picnic.

Just what else would Muleshoe have to offer in the way of entertainment?

Doyle's Tap Tavern, or St. Paddy's as the locals called it, was already bustling with people when Burdy showed her inside. As she scanned the room, Perrie slowly realized that she was the only woman in the place. It didn't take long for the rest of Paddy's patrons to realize the same thing. Conversation slowly ground to a halt as every eye turned toward her.

Perrie forced a smile and reached for Burdy's arm. "Why are they all looking at me like that?" she murmured.

Burdy straightened and puffed out his chest. "I s'pose they're all wondering how an old coot like me managed to put such a fine-lookin' woman on my arm." He cleared his throat. "This here's Miz Perrie Kincaid. She'll be stayin' here in Muleshoe for a while. She's looking for a pilot to fly her outta here."

Six of the bar's patrons stepped forward, but Burdy held up his gnarled hand and shook his head. "The first guy to offer Miz Kincaid a ride will have to answer to me and Joe Brennan."

The six stepped back, their expressions clouded with disappointment, but their interest barely quelled. Perrie shifted nervously and glanced at Burdy.

"And she ain't here lookin' for a husband, either, so you all can stop your gawkin' and get back to your fun."

"I'm perfectly able to speak for myself," she said as Burdy drew her along toward a table.

He gallantly pulled out the red vinyl chair for her, then helped her out of her parka. '"Course, you'll be expected to dance with them," Burdy said, once he'd seated himself across from her and settled his imaginary dog at his feet.

Her gaze snapped up from the menu to his face. "What?"

"Well now, that's only common courtesy up here. They can't dance with each other, and when there's a woman about, they don't waste much time. I expect you'll get twirled around the floor more times than you'll be able to count. If you're lucky, the brides will stop by and reduce your odds of gettin' dizzy."

Burdy had no more said the words when the front door of Doyle's swung open and three women stepped inside. Perrie wouldn't have known there were women behind the parka hoods and scarves except that the conversation stopped again and every man in the place turned to look. "That's them," he said. "They're a promisin' lot. Better than the first three."

"There were three others?"

"Yep. The boys placed the ad down in Los Angeles. I guess they thought they might get lucky and nab themselves a movie star or one of them supermodels. Those three girls lasted about a week before Joe had to fly them out. They just weren't cut out for the cold. But these three-I got my money on at least two of 'em stayin'."

Perrie watched them slip out of their coats and take their places at a table. They looked like normal, intelligent women to her. All three were attractive in their own different ways and, from what she could see, ranged in age from midtwenties to early thirties. "What about their grooms?" she asked. "Aren't they going to get mad if someone dances with their girls?"

"It don't work that way. The boys that paid in get the chance to go through the letters and choose the girls. But once they're up here, it's pretty much a free-for-all. The man who woos 'er wins 'er fair and square."

"That doesn't seem fair to me. What about the men who didn't pay?"

"Well, there ain't many single men that didn't get in on it. There's me… and Paddy. He's still pinin' over the wife he lost a few years back. And there's Ralphie Simpson. He's been married and divorced five times so he don't want any part of a woman bent on marriage. And that's it, except for Joe Brennan and Hawk."

"Every unmarried man in town except for you and the other four is looking for a bride?"

"That's about it."

She glanced over the top of her menu at Burdy. "So, what's the story with Brennan? How come he isn't in on the bride deal?"

Burdy scratched his chin as he pondered her question for a long moment. "I don't rightly know. I 'spect he likes bein' a lone wolf. Though there ain't a shortage of ladies lookin' to put an end to that. They all say he's a real charmer, knows exactly how to treat 'em. They're always talking about his eyes, though I can't figure what's so special about 'em."

"His eyes? I don't see anything remarkable about his eyes, either," Perrie lied. "And as for charming… well, he certainly isn't my type."

"You know, he rescued a purdy thing off Denali just a few days back. Plucked her right off the mountain and saved her life. He's a helluva pilot, too."

Perrie's interest was aroused and she leaned forward. "Really? He didn't mention that."

"He don't brag on himself much. But everybody likes him. He's generous to a fault. Last winter, he flew Addie Pruett out when her ma fell ill. She didn't have the money to pay for the flight, so Joe told her she could do his laundry for three months in exchange. And he brings me fresh vegetables for my fire hall feeds without charging me for the freight. I 'spect he don't charge me full price for the produce, either, but I don't have proof of that."

Perrie's journalistic instincts kicked into overdrive. "What did he do in Seattle?"

A shrug was all Burdy had for that question. The old man cocked his head in the direction of the bar. "Why don't you ask him yourself? He's sittin' over there at the end of the bar. He's been watchin' you since we sat down."

She turned to look and found Joe Brennan leaning back against the bar, his pale eyes fixed on her with another disconcerting gaze. For an instant, she thought of looking away, of avoiding his direct stare. But instead, she tipped her chin up and gave him a little wave. His only response was an oh-so-subtle lift of his eyebrow before he turned to talk to the man next to him.

For the first time since she'd met him, he wasn't wearing a cap. His thick dark hair brushed the collar of his flannel shirt and fell in a boyish shock across his forehead, careless and incredibly sexy. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows and her gaze drifted along smooth, muscular arms and strong, capable hands. She noticed how his jeans hugged narrow hips and long legs when he hooked his heel on the foot rail. No doubt about it. Joe Brennan filled out a pair of jeans better than any man she'd ever met.

"You fancy him?"

She twisted around at Burdy's question. "What? No. Why would you think that?"

Burdy shrugged, a grin quirking the deep grooves around his mouth. "Haven't met a lady yet mat could resist him. And you seem interested."

"I'm a reporter," she snapped. "Learning deep dark secrets about people is what I'm good at." Perrie leaned back in her chair. "And I'll wager you dinner tonight that I can find out what Joe Brennan did in Seattle before he came here."

"I'd take you up on it, but Joe said you don't have any money."

She frowned. Burdy was right. How was she supposed to live here in Muleshoe without a penny to her name? Milt had stolen all her money, had forced her into exile. Did he expect her to starve, as well. "You're right. I don't have any money."

"Not for gamblin'. But Joe said your boss gave him the okay to pay your way around town. Paddy'll run a tab and so will Louise Weller down at the general store."

"Well, if I choose to wager a dinner here or there, Milt Freeman can damn well pay for it," Perrie said. Her chair scraped on the rough wood floor and she stood up. "This will take me about five minutes. You can order the cheeseburger plate and a beer for me while I'm gone."

She fixed her gaze on Joe Brennan's wide, flannel-covered shoulders and headed across the room. But she'd barely gotten five feet before a beefy man with a thick black beard stepped in front of her.