While she fed the stock, she told herself that spinsterhood really wasn’t all that bad. After all, she didn’t have a man underfoot all the time, expecting her to cook his dinner or wash his dirty clothes, as other women did. And there was nobody to demand her attention or her time. She could do what she wanted and when she wanted to do it.
The truth was, Rebecca Lee Sullivan was alone.
But, then, she always had been.
Two
“Hank, I need a wife.”
“Sorry, I’m already taken.”
“Funny,” Forrest mumbled, scowling.
Hank reared back in his chair, hooking the heels of his custom-made boots on the chair’s lowest rung, then took a quick look around to make sure Henry, the maître d‘ of the Texas Cattleman’s Club, wasn’t around. Owner, or not, even Hank Langley wasn’t allowed to abuse the club’s furniture. “Wasn’t trying to be funny. Just stating a fact.”
Sterling Churchill laughed, but quickly swallowed his amusement when Forrest directed the scowl his way. Sterling leaned to peer closely at his friend. “You’re serious about this wife business, aren’t you?”
Forrest picked up his beer. “Yeah, I am.” He took a long swallow, then set the frosted mug down with a frustrated sigh. “The hell of it is, there aren’t any single women left in the whole dad-blamed county.”
“Pansy’s still available,” Hank offered and won another frown from Forrest. “Just trying to be helpful,” he said, and gave Sterling a conspiratorial wink.
Catching Hank’s drift and ready to help him give their friend a hard time, Sterling suggested, “There’s always Martha Jo. I believe she’s between husbands right now.”
Forrest rolled his eyes. “I want a wife, not a damn bottle blond looking for another alimony check.”
Sterling pursed his lips thoughtfully. “Well, I suppose if you’re that picky you could put an ad in the Midland paper. Folks are doing that more and more these days.” He drew a line in the air with his finger. “It could read something like this... ‘Wife wanted. No bottle blonds need apply.”’
“Yeah,” Hank tossed in, “and you could add ‘no prior experience required’ which might cut down on the number of divorcees who respond.”
Forrest fell back against his chair in disgust. “You boys ought to take this show on the road.”
“Now, Forrest,” Hank soothed, trying to hide a grin. “We were only funnin‘ with you.”
“Well, I’m not laughing. I need a wife, dammit.” He leaned forward, bracing his arms on the table and curling his hands around his mug. He stared at his beer a moment, then cocked his head and narrowed an eye at Sterling. “Has Becky said anything to you about getting married?”
“Becky? Becky Sullivan?”
“How many Becky’s do you know?”
Sterling shrugged. “Just the one.”
“Well, has she?”
“No.” Sterling grinned sheepishly. “But then I didn’t say anything to her before I got married, either.” He shook his head slowly as he absorbed what Forrest had just revealed. “Becky getting married. I’ll just be damned.”
“I didn’t say she was getting married. I simply asked you if she’d said anything to you about it.”
“Well, hell, Forrest,” Sterling complained. “Is she getting married, or not?”
Forrest frowned. “I don’t know, but earlier this afternoon, she told me she had a fiancé. Personally I think she was lying.”
“Why would she he about a thing like that?”
His gaze on his beer mug, Forrest turned the glass slowly between his hands. “Probably because she was mad at me.”
A longtime friend of Becky’s, Sterling leaned forward in his chair, ready to defend her if necessary. “What did you do to her?”
“I asked her to marry me.”
Sterling’s eyebrows shot up. “The hell you say!”
“Damn sure did, but she refused me. Said she was already engaged. Of course, she told me that after she knocked me down.”
Hank held up a hand. “Whoa, hold on a minute. Let me get this straight. You asked Becky to marry you, and she knocked you down?”
“Well, she didn’t exactly knock me down. She shoved me and my boot heel hooked on a rock and I fell down.”
“Why’d she shove you?”
“How the hell would I know? She’s a woman, isn’t she? Women do crazy things all the time.”
Sterling and Hank shared a knowing look, both men aware of their friend’s lack of finesse with women. Though never short on female companionship, Forrest had never learned the finer points in courting a woman. Probably because he’d never had to. Women just naturally flocked to him, without him having to put forth much effort.
“Maybe you better tell us how you worded this proposal,” Sterling suggested.
“All I did was remind her of a promise that I made to her years ago about marrying her myself if she hadn’t hooked up with somebody by the time she turned thirty. Since her thirtieth birthday is less than six weeks away, I told her that I was ready to make good on my promise.”
Having already heard about this pact from Becky just a few weeks before, Sterling asked, “Is that all?”
Forrest furrowed his brow, trying to remember the exact conversation. “No, I believe I mentioned something about saving her from spinsterhood.”
Hank let his head fall back. “Oh, Lord,” he groaned.
“And what was wrong with my proposal?” Forrest wanted to know.
“Hell, Forrest, you insulted her,” Hank told him. “No woman likes to be referred to as a spinster.” He sighed heavily. “Sterling, looks like you and me are gonna have to give Forrest here some lessons on how to properly court a woman.”
Forrest’s chest swelled in indignation. “Just because the two of you have each walked the aisle twice, doesn’t make y‘all experts on the subject.”
“We have wives, don’t we? And you don’t,” Sterling reminded him.
Forrest waved a hand in dismissal. “Forget it. Becky’s already engaged—or at least she says she is.”
“Maybe she is getting married,” Sterling said in his friend’s defense. “Becky’s not one to lie.”
“She is this time,” Forrest argued stubbornly, “and I intend to prove it.”
Forrest
