grandfather didn’t appreciate. He was never one for dancing or parties or even attending church socials.”
“And so in waltzed Elmer Murdock.”
Gram chuckled. “Jitterbugged was more like it. Elmer is always game to try something new or exciting. I know you probably think he’s a little...wacky at times. But he’s so funny, and he makes me laugh.”
“I’m sorry, Gram. I hadn’t realized how much he’s added to your life. Or that you’d downplayed your own personality when you married Pop.”
“It’s not just that. On top of everything else, Elmer loves me, honey. And he tells me, which is something your grandfather had a difficult time voicing. What’s more, I love him, too. I never expected to feel that zing again. And it’s nice.” Gram smiled, a spark lighting her eyes in a way Amber hadn’t noticed before.
And it made her appreciate the man in a way she hadn’t anticipated.
“Will you please give Elmer a chance?” Gram asked. “He’d do anything in the world for me. And for you, too.”
Something told Amber that Gram was right about that. So how could she deny them her blessing? “Of course I will.”
Gram wrapped her arms around Amber in a warm, loving embrace, which might have triggered an instant healing process if her heart wasn’t so badly broken from her own lost chance at love. But Gram’s happiness served as temporary balm.
Amber was beginning to realize soul mates came in all shapes and sizes. And one size didn’t have to fit all.
At that moment, the telephone rang, interrupting their embrace.
“I’ll get it,” Amber said, before answering. “Hello?”
“It’s Jeanne Marie, sweetie.” By the chipper tone in her voice, she obviously didn’t know that Amber had been left heartbroken by her British nephew. “How are you?”
“I’m fine.” Amber used her brave voice—the one she took on right after she’d had a bad qualifying round. “How about you?”
“Busy with the big Valentine’s Day weddings, of course. I was wondering if you’d be available to help us assemble the favors tomorrow.”
Was there anyone in town not getting married? Amber didn’t feel like celebrating the romances of four happy couples, but she couldn’t very well say no. Besides, she’d be attending those weddings anyway. And maybe it would give her the opportunity to find out more about what was going on with Jensen. “Sure, I can help. Where are you doing it? And what time?”
“At my house tomorrow—about two o’clock.”
“I’ll be there.” She just hoped she could keep a cheerful front while she worked.
“Wonderful. We haven’t seen much of you, Amber. What are you up to?”
“Right this second? I’m heading to the Superette.”
“And then what? Are you going back home?”
“That’s the plan? Why?”
“Just wondered.”
The woman certainly sounded upbeat. And inquisitive. Amber supposed organizing and maintaining strict schedules for four upcoming weddings would do that to a person.
Or maybe Amber was just being overly sensitive. A failed romance certainly sent a woman spiraling into the dumps.
They made small talk for a moment, then ended the call.
Amber continued on with her one errand of the day, but even a quick stop at the local market, where folks often got the scoop on what all the other locals were doing, nearly tore the broken heart right out of her.
Everyone she knew seemed to be having babies or getting married, and she couldn’t wait to escape the local gathering place fast enough.
Then, to make matters worse, while she was standing in the checkout line, Mrs. Tierney, the owner of the market, put out the latest issue of the Global Trotter, the tabloid that had plastered the photo of her kissing Jensen on the front page several weeks ago.
“Congratulations,” Mrs. Tierney said. “You must be over the moon. And I’ll bet your grandmother is beside herself.”
Amber glanced up from the cart she’d been emptying. “Excuse me?”
“On your engagement.” Mrs. Tierney handed her the newspaper, with a bold headline that announced Sir Jensen to Wed His Cowgirl!
Amber would laugh if it wasn’t so sad. She finally realized what Jensen had been talking about and how hard it was for people to live their lives—and their heartaches—in front of the paparazzi lenses.
She always thought rodeo girls had tough skin, but hers was newspaper-thin right now. Jensen had to be a robot to not let tabloid lies and rumors get to him.
Mrs. Tierney pointed to a photograph of a sparkling diamond ring—a huge rock, actually—that Jensen supposedly purchased for her and presented while on bended knee.
“I’m afraid there’s no truth to that at all,” Amber said, lifting her left hand, which was as bare as it could be. “See? No ring, no fiancé. No royal wedding for this cowgirl.”
“That’s a shame. I wonder who he bought the ring for?”
Amber didn’t bother to even answer. Instead, she choked back the emotion and blinked backed her tears until her groceries had been tallied. Was that the business he’d rushed home to London to handle?
Had he been pulling one over on her with that whole never-want-to-risk-falling-in-love-and-losing-someone line? Because as much as the news rags embellished their articles, the picture didn’t lie. The man on the front was definitely Jensen, and he was walking out of the Jewelry Shoppe carrying a small white bag.
Of course, he might have gotten his watch repaired.
The store telephone rang, and Mrs. Tierney put the caller on hold while Amber paid the bill. Then as Amber picked up her grocery bags and headed for the door, she refused to give into her sorrow or her suspicion about Jensen leading her on.
The new year had gotten off to one heck of a bad start, but she wasn’t going to let it get the best of her. It didn’t matter what Sir Jensen was doing back in England or who he was doing it with. Amber had so many new opportunities lined up and so much to look forward to. She lifted her head as she walked to the truck, determined to get right back up on the horse that had thrown her and to embrace a new attitude.
So instead of heading home, she drove to the Hollows Cantina, where she would have her very own belated “Auld Lang Syne”—and a mock toast to the new life she was determined to create for herself.
* * *
When Amber entered the Hollows Cantina, she was greeted by the hostess, Rachel. “Are you meeting someone for a late lunch?”
“Not this time. I’ll just have a seat in the lounge. Thanks.”
As
