Читать книгу Cool Hand Hank / A Cowboy's Redemption: Cool Hand Hank / A Cowboy's Redemption - Kathleen Eagle - Страница 7

“oh, Annie.”

Sally’s sister turned from the mirror, eyes shining like stars. Her golden hair was swept up from the sides and anchored by a pearl-encrusted comb and a cascading veil. The off-the-shoulder neckline and body-skimming lines of her elegant ivory dress were simple and stunning and perfectly suited to the woman who stood there, eclipsing all the dreams the two sisters had conjured over the years.

The photographer quietly snapped pictures, allowing the moment to unfold. Sally was dumbfounded. How many times had they gotten dressed together, given each other a last-minute review? Sally had helped Annie choose each piece of her wedding ensemble, had overseen the fittings and giggled with her over their memories of dresses and dates, new measurements and old tastes, the never-ending Double D “chest jest”—a size Annie had at one time nearly reached—and the ever-after girlish dreams. And now all the pieces had come together, adding up to a vision that came as no real surprise to Sally even as it brought rare tears to her eyes. This was it. Annie was the fairytale bride.

Blinking furiously, Sally handed over the bouquet of white calla lilies, drew a deep breath and blew a wobbly whistle. “Whoa. Wow. Okay, Hoolie thinks he can get by without crutches, but I know what it’s like to fall on your face in front of an audience, so I think we should put my cane in his hand right when the music starts.”

“It’s not a long walk. A few steps. I’m almost there, Sally.” Annie grabbed Sally’s hand, and the camera hummed. “Why am I shaking like this?”

“They’re big steps.” Baby sister was taking big steps, and Sally was the only Drexler left to hold her hand.

She wanted to hug her, hold her a little longer, but she made do with squeezing her hand rather than making smudges or wrinkles or tears. Annie wasn’t leaving, but life would be different after today.

“I wonder if he’s nervous. Do you think he’s shaking like this?” Annie laughed and shook her head. “Probably not. He’s a cowboy. He rides… used to ride bulls for a living. What’s a little—” she turned for another glance in the mirror, complete with bouquet, and smiled “—wedding?”

“There’s no such thing as a little wedding,” Sally said, speaking from her all-too-frequent experience as a captive TV watcher. “By the numbers, this one is little. But it’s big by my calculations.”

“I know. It’s all Sam’s fault.”

“I’m not calculating in dollars. Zach’s brother’s money definitely falls into the easy-come-easy-go category, and since there’s so much of it, why not enjoy the frills? I’m talking about big, as in big as life. This is your wedding, and it means the world to me.”

Sally touched the simple strand of pearls around her sister’s neck. They had belonged to their mother, whom Sally saw so unmistakably in Annie’s big, soft eyes and bow-shaped mouth and dainty chin. Sally looked more like their father, but she was the one who clearly remembered Mom. Sally was the keeper of Drexler memories.

“I’ll be kinda glad when it’s all…” Annie gave her head a quick toss. “No, I’m glad now. I’m ready. I feel beautiful. And you look beautiful, Sally.” Annie turned her sister so that the mirror made a framed portrait unlike any they’d taken together before. They’d been big and lively, little and sweet. One primary, one pastel. One ready to go first, the other pleased to follow.

“I love you so much,” Annie whispered, and Sally had no doubt. But Annie was the one once meant to wait while Sally went ahead. And it wasn’t that Sally was resentful of the reversal—she really did look good in her chic, fluid blue waterfall of a dress, Annie’s gift of opals around her neck and studding her ears, fragrant gardenias in her hair—but she was unsure of her footing. Annie was taking a big step.

Where did that leave Sally?

“Me, too, you,” she said as she squeezed that ever-dependable hand again. “Lest we spoil the makeup, consider yourself kissed.”

“You know you’re not losing a sister, don’t you? You’re gaining a brother. And we’re not going anywhere. We’re partners, and we’re family, and we’re going to—”

“—be late for your wedding. Listen. I am fine.” She enunciated each word forcefully, willing her sister to make sense of three simple words and move on. “Look at me. No cane, no pain.” Enjoy this with me while it lasts. She needlessly fluffed Annie’s veil. “This is your day, honey. Take a deep breath. Your man is out there waiting and, yes, probably feeling just the way you are. When you take each other’s hands…” Sally smiled, blinking furiously because she would not cry. “Tell me what it’s like, okay? That moment.”

Annie nodded as she pulled her hand free, placed a finger lightly at the outside corner of Sally’s eye, caught a single tear and touched it to her lips.

Granite spires bound the crystalline-blue lake on the far side, the perfect backdrop for a hand-woven red willow arch decked out with a profusion of flowers. Guests were seated in white folding chairs. Zach’s niece led the way, tossing handfuls of white rose petals on a path of fresh green pine needles. Sally followed, taking measured steps in time with the string quartet’s elegant processional. Looking as handsome and relaxed in his black tux as he did in well-worn jeans, Zach waited for his bride. His brother, Sam—a little taller, a little darker, a little less at ease—stood like a sentry overseeing his charges. Daughter, son, wife, mother, brother—Sam’s eyes attended to each one. He was clearly the Beaudry caretaker. Funny, Sally thought. That’s Annie, not me.

Before she’d been diagnosed with multiple sclerosis, Sally had been the seeker, the doer, the risk taker. She’d cared passionately, but she’d never taken care. That was Annie’s role. Careful, care-giving, selfless Annie.

Sally paused before the minister and looked the groom in the eye. Be good to her, Zach. Be the man she deserves. She pivoted and took her place, knowing she’d made her point. She felt Annie step up to fill the space she and Zach had left for her, but she couldn’t quite turn to watch Hoolie place her sister’s hand in Zach’s. It was enough to see the movement from the corner of her eye, where Annie had touched her for a tear.

It was happening. Annie was interlacing her life with someone new, becoming someone else’s next of kin. Sally clutched two handfuls of flowers and listened to identical promises exchanged in voices that complemented each other in a way she hadn’t heard before. It was a pure sound and a simple truth. Annie and Zach belonged together.

And they stood together, hand in hand, while Hank played an acoustic guitar and sang “Cowboy, Take Her Away” in a deep, resonant voice that was made for a love song. He’d said his gift was his song, and he sang to the couple as though no one else was there and every note, every word had been written just for them. Sally was enchanted. Her beautiful sister, her new brother, the music and the man who made it—she wanted to suck it all in and keep it alive within her in a way that the video camera could never do.

At the end of the song, Hank said, “Kiss her, Zach.” And he did, cheered on by friends and family, who showered them with white rose petals as they retreated down the path. The guests followed, and the violinists made merry music at the back of the line as it wended its way up a gentle slope between stands of tall pines. When they reached the lodge’s gravel driveway, Zach swept his bride up in his arms and carried her across the path and up the steps to the front porch, where he set her down and kissed her again. Women sighed. Men whooped. Cowboy hats sailed skyward.

Annie and Zach were hitched.

“You’re a lucky man.” Sally raised her glass of sparkling water in toast.

“Yeah, I know.” Sam put his arm around his new wife, Maggie. “I hit the jackpot.”

Maggie looked up at him. “You did?”

“Trusted you and got myself a whole family.”

“I think Sally’s talking about winning the lottery,” Maggie said. “It’s crazy. Real people don’t win the lottery.”

“Well, it was complicated,” Sam said. “It was Star’s mother’s ticket—our daughter, Star—but she died before she could claim it. In fact, we thought the damn thing was lost in a car accident, but it turned up, kinda like…” He waved his hand as though words failed.

“Miraculously,” Maggie supplied.

“To put it mildly,” Sam said. “It’s been a year, but it still doesn’t seem real. We’re trying to manage it sensibly. You don’t want to go crazy. You want to put some of it to good use now, give some away, make sure there’s plenty left for the kids. I’ve never known any rich people, never thought I’d like them much.”

“He won’t give up his job,” Maggie said.

Sam laughed. “She won’t, either.”

“I’m part-time now, but our little clinic needs nurses, and I’m a good one. We just moved into a house we built on Sam’s land. It’s a gorgeous spot.” Maggie made a sweeping gesture. “Kind of like this, but the lake is smaller and the mountains are bigger. You have to come for a visit.”

“Where’s Hank?” Sam asked, searching over the heads of the guests. “Man, that guy can sing. He about killed my brother with that song.” He grinned at Zach. “He didn’t leave yet, did he?”

Did he?

Sally hugged her new brother-in-law. “Where’s Hank?”

“I’ll tell you a little secret about ol’ Hank. He don’t like compliments. He does his thing, and then he disappears for a while. He sang at a funeral once—bull rider, wrecked his pickup. Hank tore everybody up singin’ over that kid. And then he disappeared. I found him playin’ fetch with Phoebe.” Zach glanced over the balcony railing. “He’s around.”

“Hey, cowboy.” Annie joined the group, entwining her arm with her new husband’s and beaming up at him as though he’d just hung the moon. “Take me away.”

A skyward glance assured Sally that the moon wasn’t up yet. The sun had slipped behind the trees, but there was still plenty of light for searching the grounds. She didn’t have to go far. She found Phoebe first. The dog greeted her with a friendly bark, and the man followed, emerging from a stand of pines near a picnic table. He carried his jacket slung over his shoulder, white shirtsleeves rolled halfway up his forearms, black hat tipped low on his forehead.

Sally scratched Phoebe behind the ears and caught a little drool in the process. Hank tapped his thigh, and the dog heeled. With a hand signal, he had her sitting.

“Impressive,” Sally said.

“She’s willing to humor me because you’re not as appealing as you were last night. If you were splashing around in the lake she’d be all over you.”

“And you?”

“The only part that didn’t appeal to me last night was the water.”

“You were wonderful,” she said, and he questioned her with a look. “Today. Your music. You play beautifully, and you sing like—”

“Thanks.” He swung his jacket down from his shoulder. “It’s a good song.”

“It’s a lovely song. Perfect. I don’t think I’ve heard it before.”

“Aw, c’mon. You gotta love those Dixie Chicks. I had to change a couple of words to make it work.”

“You made it yours. Theirs. Annie’s and Zach’s. That’ll be their song now.” Feeling a sudden chill, she hugged herself and rubbed her bare upper arms. “What a gift, Hank. That’s something they’ll take with them throughout their journey together. Their song.”

“You’re layin’ it on a little thick, there, Sally,” he teased as he laid his jacket over her shoulders.

“Never. I’m no gusher. If anything, that was an understatement. My little sister just got married, Hank. If I could sing, I’d be…” She adjusted the jacket and began to sway. “You know what? I can dance.” She did a tiny two-step, added a slow twirl, and then a more enthusiastic two-step and a spin. “I can dance. I can…“

She lost the twinkle in her toes, stumbled, and landed in a hoop made of two strong arms.

“Oops. I tend to be a little clumsy when I get excited. All I need is a strong partner.” She copped a feel of his working-man’s biceps as she steadied herself and eased up on him, catching a knowing look beneath the brim of his hat. He thought it a pratfall.

She smiled. “How about it?”

He took his time about tilting her upright, the corner of his mouth twitching. “How about I do the singin’ and you do the dancin'?”

“They didn’t set this up very well. The best man is married. What fun is that for a maid of honor?”

He bent to retrieve his jacket from the grass. “What kind of fun are you looking for?”

“The loosen-your-tie-and-kick-your-shoes-off kind. How about you?”

“If I start taking more clothes off, the party’s over.” He draped his jacket over her shoulders again. “I’ll settle for a good meal and a little music.”

“Ah, the quiet type. A challenge is always fun.” She linked arms with him and made a sweeping gesture toward the lodge. “Shall we? Dinner’s coming up soon. Right now the bar is open and the drinks are free.”

“Free drinks would take away any challenge if I didn’t have this booze-sniffin’ bitch with me.” The dog whined and perked her ears. “See? Phoebe don’t miss a trick. No way am I goin’ near any open bar, so just save me a seat at the dinner table.”

“I’ve already arranged the place cards. You’re next to me on the wagon.” She had him walking now. Ambling. She was in no hurry. “Have you thought about my suggestion?”

“What suggestion?”

“Think of it as sort of a working vacation. Not hard labor, mind you. More like backup. Hang out with Hoolie and me. We can be quite entertaining. And according to Zach, you’re unattached and somewhat flexible in your schedule.” She looked up and gave a perfunctory smile. “I asked.”

“Why would you do that?”

“Filling out your résumé. I didn’t tell him you were thinking about applying for the job. So far, this is just between you and me.”

“You’re serious.”

“Of course I’m serious. I want my sister’s wedding to be perfect, and the perfect wedding includes a fabulous honeymoon.” She gave his arm what she hoped felt like a winning squeeze. “I don’t know what your somewhat flexible schedule looks like for the next few weeks, but you wouldn’t have to miss any rodeos. Come and go as you please, but stow your gear with us for a while. That way there’s another man around, and the honeymooners have nothing to worry about.”

“What about the man? Should I be worried?”

“You don’t strike me as a worrier.”

“Long as I’m not hangin’ with troublemakers, I got nothin’ to worry about.”

“No worries, then.” She laughed. “I really don’t make trouble. I fall into it sometimes, but who doesn’t?” She looked up. “You?”

“Not lately.”

“Maybe you need a little adventure in your life, Hank. Get out there, you know? Try new things. New people. I like to get while the gettin’s good, but I’m always careful. You gotta be careful with the good stuff, right? Good people, good ideas, good times—there’s a certain balance. A little daring goes a long way with a lot of careful.” She wagged an instructive finger. “If we had an emergency, we’d call you.”

“There’s nobody crazier than Zach Beaudry when it comes to risking his neck, and you can tell him I said so.”

“And he’ll say he’s changed.” She stopped, turned, blocked his progress. “Will you think about it? What’s three weeks?”

“How much time do I have to think about it?”

“About three hours.” She pulled his jacket in tighter. “Do you have horses? I could pay you in horses. You know, the Indian way.”

“Yeah, I know the Indian way. But you’re talkin’ Sally’s way, and I’m goin’ Hank’s way. Nice try, though.” He smiled. “I do like the way you swim.”

“Dance with me tonight, and I’ll swim with you later.”

“For me, that’s a whole lotta daring and not much careful.” He slipped his arm around her shoulders. “Be damned if I’m not tempted to jump in.”

Hank generally steered clear of big parties, but the Beaudry wedding was turning out to be a pretty good time. With beef for dinner and the prospect of Sally for dessert, he was happy to loosen his belt now and put his boots under her bed later. She hadn’t been kidding about arranging the place cards. She’d given up her seat at the bride’s table, supposedly so the best man could sit with his wife. She’d grabbed Hilda Beaudry and nodded toward Hoolie and Hank, who’d claimed a table on the sidelines and started in on the bread basket. It was a good setup. Hank wouldn’t presume to guess where Hoolie pictured parking his boots tonight, but he secretly wished the old man whatever he could score. Hilda was definitely enjoying the company.

“It’s too bad you can’t dance tonight, Hoolie,” Hilda said, genuinely grieved.

Hoolie checked all his pockets. “Too many hidey-holes in this monkey suit. I don’t know where my pocket knife went to. You got one on you, Hank? I’m gonna cut this damn thing off.”

“No nudity here, Hoolie.” Sally winked at Hank. “Wait till we’re back in camp.”

“Is that where you’re hiding all the Double D’s?” Hank scanned the room. “'Cause I ain’t seein’ any in this crowd.”

“I’m talkin’ about this mummy’s boot I got on my foot,” Hoolie grumbled.

“How long you had it on?” Hank asked.

“About a month.”

“About a week,” Sally said.

“Sorry, Hoolie. You got a ways to go.”

“I broke a wing before. Twice.” Hoolie flapped his foldedarm. “But never a leg. Sure cramps a guy’s style.”

“I’ll request the Funky Chicken,” Hilda promised. “When the mother of the groom and the father of the bride are both unattached, they get one of those spotlight dances. Right, Sally?”

“Absolutely. We make our own rules. Don’t we, Hoolie? I think I might have found us a sitter.” She flashed Hank a smile. “Hank’s almost convinced.”

“What kind of a sitter?” Hoolie scowled.

“The kind who looks like he can keep the mice at bay while the cats go play. Hank’s perfect, so help me put him over the edge.” She laid her hand on Hank’s shoulder and crooned, “Come on out to the big Double D, where the horses run wild and the cowboys live free.”

Hank chuckled. “Yeah, that’s gonna do it.”

“Hell, yeah, we want those kids to have their honeymoon.” Hoolie leaned closer to Hank. “You like horses?”

“He’s a farrier,” Sally said.

“Thought you was an MA or a PD or some kind of code for junior doctor.”

“PA,” Hank said. “Physician’s assistant.”

“For people, right? And you can shoe horses besides?” Hoolie grinned. “Yeah, you need to come see our place. You got some time? Say about—”

“Three weeks? They don’t trust you to mind the store either, Hoolie?” Hank asked.

“They would if I hadn’t gone and—”

Sally whapped Hoolie in the chest and nodded toward a paunchy silhouette in an oversized straw hat looming in the doorway to the dining room. “What’s he doing here?”

Hoolie peered, squinted. “Don’t ask me.”

“Annie thought about inviting the Tutans. Double D diplomacy, she said, but after the last stunt he pulled—I know damn well it was him—I said it was him or me.” Sally’s hand found Hank’s forearm again, but like Hoolie, he was zeroed in on the uninvited guest. “He cut our fence,” she was saying. “We keep the old horses in a separate pasture, and Tutan cut the fence. He said he didn’t, but it was definitely cut, and that’s how Hoolie broke his ankle.”

“That was my own damn fault.”

“We have special fencing separating the young horses from the retirees and the convalescents. Those horses don’t get through a four-strand fence without help.” Sally slid her chair back. “I’m sure it was a trap. I don’t know if it was set for the horses or for you, but I know he did it to cause us trouble. And he’s about to get his.”

“Hold on, girl.” Hoolie’s chair legs scraped the floor. “Not now.”

“I don’t want him anywhere near Annie’s wedding.”

“C’mon.” Hank was the first one to his feet. “This is my kind of fun. Don’t worry, Hoolie. We’ll keep it civil.” He smiled as he helped Sally with her chair. “But there’s nothing wrong with showin’ a little claw.”

Tutan. The name ping-ponged within the walls of Hank’s head as he took in the face for the first time. He kept pace with Sally, who had a point to make with every deliberate step. No hurry. I’m in charge here. His admiration for the woman’s style grew with every moment he spent with her. And now, here was Dan Tutan. Her lease challenger. His father’s leash holder. Mr. Tutan.

“We’re on our way to Rapid City, thought we’d stop in and offer our best wishes. Did you get our gift?”

“We did. Thanks, but you really shouldn’t have.”

No hello, no go to hell. The way Sally was bristling and the man was posturing, Hank expected a little snarling. He was disappointed.

“We’ve been neighbors a long time, Sally.” The man with the round, red face adjusted his hat, hitched up his pants, and finally folded his arms over his barrel chest. “We figured our invitation got lost in the mail.”

“Annie wanted to keep it small. Family and close friends.”

He eyed Hank. “Close friends?”

“Hank Night Horse.” No handshake. A nod and a name were more than enough. “I’ve known Zach a long time.”

“Night Horse.” Tutan went snake eyed. “I had a guy by that name working for me years ago. Any relation to you?”

Keep looking, Mr. Tutan. “Where was he from?”

“I don’t think he was from around here. Coulda been Montana. Isn’t that where Beaudry’s from?”

“Yeah, it is.”

“I like that Crow Indian country up there. Real pretty. Is that where you’re from?”

“Nope.” Crow country is Crow country. “But Night Horse is a common name. Kinda like Drexler and Tutan.”

“That guy that worked for me…there’s something…” He kept staring, the rude bastard. But he shook his head. “No, if I remember right, he was shaped more like me.” He patted his belly and laughed. “And he was a good hand. Except when he got to drinking. Fell off the wagon and got himself killed somehow. Hard to tell by the time his body was found, but they thought he might’ve been out hunting. That’s one sport you don’t want to mix with too much Everclear.” He shook his head. “Tragic.”

“Sounds like it.” Hank stared dispassionately, kept his tone tame and his fists tucked into his elbows.

“Maybe that wasn’t his name. Pretty sure it was some kinda Horse.” Tutan turned to Sally. “You’re looking fit. Some new kind of—”

“I’m doing well, thanks. Very well.”

“Good. Good to hear.” He tried to peer past Sally, but it was Hoolie who limped into view. “Good man, Hoolihan,” Tutan enthused. “There’s sure no keeping you down. Where’s the bride? I just want to give her my best. I’ve known these girls most of their lives, and I want little Annie to know that the Tutans wish her well.”

“She’s on a tight schedule,” Hank said. “We’ll tell her you stopped in.”

“This time tomorrow I guess the happy couple will be off on a nice honeymoon.”

“That’s the main reason I’m here.” Hank drew a deep breath, steadying himself. “Zach and Annie won’t have a thing to worry about. I’ll be keepin’ these two in line.”

“You’re gonna have your hands full, son.” Tutan threaded his thumbs under his belly roll and over his belt as he moved in on Sally. “Tell your sister I wish her well. She and Beaudry would do well to get out of this crazy horse thing you’ve got going and live their lives. You and your wild ideas. You’re just trying to keep your sister from leaving you without—”

Hank caught Sally in time to save Tutan from what undoubtedly would have been a nice right hook if she’d followed through.

Backpedaling, Tutan wagged his finger. “Your father’s rolling over in his grave over what you’ve done to the Double D, Sally.”

“This is a private party, Tutan,” Hoolie said.

Tutan’s angry gaze didn’t waver. “Hell, girl, I’m sorry for all your troubles, but I ain’t rollin’ over. I’ve got a real ranch to run.”

“Let me go,” Sally grumbled as Tutan turned on his heel and stomped across the lobby.

Hank eased up, but he wasn’t letting go until Tutan was out the door. “Marriage and murder are too much for one day.”

She drew herself up and challenged him with a look. “You’re the one who suggested showing some claw.”

“A little.”

“Night Horse,” she said quietly. “He said the man worked for him.”

“And you heard my answer.”

“What I heard was…” She took his warning from his eyes. “Did you mean it? About helping out?”

“Actually, I was just sayin’ it to help out, but then he went and called me son.” He gave a curt nod. “Yeah, if it’ll make a difference, I’ll stay.”

“Let’s go tell the bride and groom.” She grabbed his hand. “You’re just full of great gifts. They’ll be calling you Santa Claus.”

“You might be callin’ me Scrooge. You kids won’t be having any parties with me in charge.”

“Actually…” She leaned in close, and he had half a mind to take that flower out of her hair so he could smell only Sally. She was giving him those eyes again, full of fireworks and mischief. “I’m looking forward to that part about the party being over.”

He laughed. “You’re the damnedest woman I ever met.”

“Only when I’m at my best.”

“Sally!” Glistening with bride shine, Annie burst on the scene, brushing Hank’s arm as she reached for her sister. “Are you okay? Somebody said…”

“Everything’s okay. Look. Not a scratch on me, and Tutan got off easy. Come with me to the bathroom.” Sally put her unscratched arm around her sister’s shoulders and wheeled her in the opposite direction. “I gotta go talk her down,” she told Hank in parting. “Keep the big surprise under your hat.”

For how long? Hank wondered as he watched the Drexlers head for the women’s sanctuary. He’d be walking around with a bombshell under his hat until somebody took the detonator out of his mouth by whispering Thanks, Hank, but you won’t be needed after all.

“It was nothing.” Sally snatched a tissue from the box beside the sink and used it to dab a lipstick smudge from her sister’s cheek. “Tutan said he was on his way to Rapid City and just stopped in to make sure you got his gift. Don’t open it. It’s probably some kind of curse on your firstborn.”

“Did you put any scratches on him?”

“I came so close. If Hank hadn’t interfered…”

“Then what?” Annie prompted. But before Sally’s very eyes, the question of what took a mental backseat to the who. Annie smiled. “Hank. Zach was right. He said you two would hit it off.”

“I’d like to see more of him.” At least as much as he’d seen of her. Feeling good, looking fine—she glanced at herself in the mirror, just to make sure, yes—for now and however much longer, she would do her best to see and know, give and take with a man, this man.

She raised a cautionary finger. “Remember, Annie, I tell who I want, when and if I want. And for right now, I’m as healthy as you are. You haven’t said anything, have you?”

“I hardly know the man.”

Sally nodded. “I would have hit him.”

“Hank?”

“No, Tutan. It would have felt so good. But Hank held me back.” She smiled. “And that felt even better.”

Annie gave her that what-are-you-up-to? look. She always recognized the signs. “You didn’t sign us up for one of those reality shows, did you?”

“You mean like ‘My Big Fat Redneck Wedding'?” Sally snapped her fingers. “Hey, we could have gotten some publicity for the sanctuary. I wish I’d thought of that.” She laughed. “Just kidding.”

“Seriously, you’re having a good time?”

“I’m gonna dance my shoes off tonight, little sister.” Sally fussed with Annie’s golden curls. “You’re so beautiful.”

“You’re giving me that look. What else have you got up your sleeve?”

“Are you kidding? I can barely hide my boobs in this dress.” Sally winked. She could barely contain herself. “It’s no wonder you’re a teacher—you read me like a book. I do have a little surprise for you. I think. I hope. Like you said, we hardly know the man.”

“Another song?”

“You want another song?” Sally leaned closer to the mirror and adjusted her décolleté. “I’ll see what I can do.”

Hank sang “Can I Have This Dance?” for Zach and Ann Beaudry, who waltzed alone in the spotlight, surrounded by family and friends smiling in the dark. Beautiful people. Sally’s throat tingled. Her eyes smarted with happy tears. Her heart was fuller than she could have imagined in the days before the wedding, when her only sister was still a bride-to-be and Hank Night Horse was simply a name on a list. She wanted to catch the moment and slip it into a magic bottle, preserve it in all its sensory glory for a time when her senses would not serve and she would turn to memory.

Hank left the cheers and applause to the bride and groom and the music for the wedding party dance to the DJ. Sally smiled as the best man reported for duty, but by the time she was able to get a good look past Sam’s nicely tailored shoulder, her private man of the hour had disappeared. She added his modesty to the growing list of his irresistible qualities and committed herself to leaving him alone for a few minutes.

But when she escaped to the terrace, her commitment fell by the wayside at the sight of the guitar leaning against the balcony along with the man seated on the top rail. A sinking feeling in her legs urged her to pull him down before he fell backward, but she fought her foolishness with a slow, deep breath. Strong sensation was good, even the silly, sinking kind. Anything was better than numbness, which would be slinking back sooner or later along with whatever other anomalies the erratic disease lurking in her body had in store. She threw back her shoulders and walked the planks, taking care not to turn an ankle over the kitten heels that had been her compromise to the killer spikes she’d longed to wear just this once and the safe flats Annie had tried to talk her into.

He watched her. He didn’t smile much, this man with the breathtaking voice, but as the bright lights and music fell away from the starry night, he summoned her with his steady gaze.

“What took you so long?” he asked quietly.

“I’ve danced with Sam and his boy, Jimmy. I’ve danced with Zach. I’ve even danced with their mother. But I have not danced with you. Do you always sing and run?”

“Yep.”

“If I didn’t know better, I might have gone looking for you at the bar.”

“But you do know better.”

“I do.” She stood close enough to touch him, but she laid her hand on the railing and reveled in the feel of the wood and the wanting. “You’ve been with Phoebe?”

“Took her for a walk. Had to keep her on a tight leash when some guy came along with something that looked like a giant poodle. Phoebe was ready to tear into that thing.”

“Blessed are the peacemakers.”

“You’re right.” He came down from the railing like a cat, languidly stretching one long leg at a time, pulled her to him with one arm, took her free hand and tucked it against his chest. “We should dance.”

“Mmm-hmm. This is nice.” She swayed in his arms, brushing against him just enough to incite sweet shivers. “Peaceful, but not still.”

“If I didn’t know better, I’d say we’d met before.”

“In another life?”

“How many do you have?”

“Three at least, maybe more. But I’m sure this is the only one I’ve met you in.”

He laughed. He thought she was joking.

“So far,” she said, and he drew her closer. She rested her head on his shoulder and inhaled his zesty scent, wondering what he tasted like and how soon she would find out. “But I know what you mean. It feels like we needed no introduction.”

“It was a jaw-dropping introduction. Maybe it wasn’t necessary, but I sure wouldn’t trade it for a handshake.”

“You barged in on the life behind door number one. Good choice.”

“Phoebe has good instincts.”

If anyone but her sister had interrupted, Sally would have hissed mightily.

“Is this a private party?” Annie ventured.

Sally peeked around Hank’s shoulder and smiled. “Not if we can wangle a private audience with the bride and groom.” She gave Hank’s hand a quick squeeze. “We have a proposition for you.”

Zach laughed. “I told you somebody was getting propositioned.”

“Tell them, Hank.” Sally flashed him a smile, but he wouldn’t buy in that far. She turned the smile on her sister. “You two are going on that honeymoon.”

“Maybe this fall,” Ann said. “Or this winter, or—”

“Maybe this week. I ran a little contest, and Hank won himself an all-expenses-paid vacation at the Double D Dude Ranch.”

“Wait a minute,” Hank said. Sally held her breath. “I thought you ran a little want ad, and I got hired.”

Sally exhaled a laugh, inhaled relief. “You didn’t qualify for the job, but all applicants were automatically entered into the drawing for a vacation, and you’re our winner.”

“What’d I tell you, Horse?” Zach clapped his hand on his friend’s shoulder. “You come to my wedding, you’re bound to get lucky.”

“Sally, you didn’t.” Ann’s eyes sparkled. She was on top of the world, but she would gladly make room for her sister.

“Didn’t what? Award the grand prize already? He’s not that lucky.” Sally glanced askance, giving Hank a coy smile. “But the winner of the vacation may become eligible for—”

“No, no, no,” Ann said. “It’s the second-sweetest offer I’ve heard all day, but we can’t go halfway around the world and leave Hank to take care of things at the Double D. It’s way too much to ask. He has places to go and things to do.”

“Which is why I’ll be the one taking care of things at the Double D. All Hank has to take care of is your peace of mind. And he’s happy to do that.” Sally linked arms with Hank. He wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon. “Right, Hank?”

“Absolutely. You two lovebirds enjoy yourselves. I’ll stand guard over the nest while you’re gone.”

“Oh, Hank, we really appreciate the offer, but with—”

“But nothing,” Sally said. “It’s perfect.”

“I have a couple of commitments to work around, but Sally’s been telling me about the program you’re running, and I’m interested. I can use a little—” Hank slid Sally a conspiratorial glance. “—diversion.”

“Can we trust these two?” Ann asked her new husband.

“I can vouch for Hank. Salt of the earth. Even if we had eggs in the nest, I’d trust him.”

“Nobody’s vouched for you yet,” the bride reminded her sister. She looked up at Zach. “Is it safe to leave the salt of the earth with a shaker that doesn’t always have her head screwed on straight?”

“I do like to shake things up,” Sally said. She glanced up at Hank. “I used to be a mover, too, but that’s a lot of work.”

“I don’t shake easy,” he told her.

“Hank’s the right man for the job,” Zach said. “I’d even trust him with Zelda.”

“You hear that?” Sally asked Ann. “If Zach’s willing to leave the keys to his precious pickup in Hank’s hands, you know your sister is safe.”

“Can we still do it? I mean, we canceled the reservations, but we still have the tickets.” Ann turned to Hank. “I don’t travel that much, and I would’ve been happy with an extra night right here in the Hills, but Sam gave us this trip to Australia. Australia. I’ve always wanted to…”

“You go, Mrs. Beaudry,” Hank said. “Live the dream.”

“I owe you, man.”

“Damn straight, cowboy.” Hank waved a cautionary finger at the groom, but his warning was for the bride. “I don’t ever wanna see this guy on my exam table again.”

“That makes two of us. But Sally—”

“Best behavior,” Sally promised. “Pinky swear.”