Читать книгу The Husband Show - Kristine Rolofson, Kristine Rolofson - Страница 10
ОглавлениеCHAPTER THREE
“WOW.”
“Yes,” Aurora said, watching the two men guide the child around the women organizing food onto platters. “Wow.”
“He’s famous, you know,” Lucia said. “He was in some big country-western band years ago. Sam said they toured with Faith Hill and Tim McGraw.”
Aurora wasn’t impressed, but she tried to look as if she was. She knew little of country music and much preferred classical. All that wailing about trucks and beer didn’t do anything for her.
“And now,” Lucia continued, “he turns up here with a daughter.”
“I thought something was strange about it,” Aurora confessed. “I even asked Winter if she was all right. I thought she might have been kidnapped or something.”
Lucia turned to look at her, eyes wide. “How do you think of these things? I guess you do have a dark side we don’t know about.”
“I do.” She sighed.
“But it was good of you to check,” her friend said. “Just in case.”
“I sensed something was a bit off,” she explained. “And I was right. She doesn’t know him, and now he’s her father? I feel bad for the kid.”
“What kid?” Owen put an arm around each woman. He was gorgeous in a black suit, a white shirt and a gold and ebony tie. “Who do you feel bad for?”
“Hi, Ranch King,” Lucia said. “Where’s your wife?”
“Hunting down Loralee for some pictures,” he replied. “What kid do you feel sorry for?”
“You’re not going to believe this,” Lucia said, “but Sam’s brother—”
“I heard he’s in town.” Owen released them to take a wheat cracker from the tray in front of them. “Does that mean we’re about to be inundated with groupies and wild musicians?”
Aurora shuddered. “I hope not.”
“A concert would be fun,” Lucia mused. “To celebrate the TV show.”
Aurora gazed at her in horror. “You’re obviously spending too much time with Jerry. It’s exactly what he’d think to do.”
Owen chuckled. “Think of the beer you’d sell.”
She laughed. “True.” Business was business, but there was something about Jake Hove that made Aurora want to run in the opposite direction. He was too good-looking, too sure of himself, too...charming. It was a facade—she was sure of it. And the daughter? The poor child seemed overwhelmed.
“Why do you feel sorry for the little girl?” Owen helped himself to a piece of cheese. “What’s going on?”
“I don’t know,” Lucia said. “We don’t know anything about it. What are you doing? We’ll be serving in a few minutes. Go out to the tent. There are appetizers there.”
“I will in a minute. I’m starving. We had to do pictures. I’m supposed to find Mrs. Hancock and drag her out of the kitchen for one last photo.”
The elderly woman had taken charge of the food immediately after the wedding ceremony. “She should be around here somewhere,” Aurora said. “Did you hire her for this?”
He laughed. “She worked for my family years ago. In fact, she was here, in this room, when I met my bride. Meg was working for her that summer.”
“That’s very romantic,” Aurora acknowledged, “but I just arranged those crackers in nice neat rows and if you touch them again I’ll have no choice but to become violent.”
His hand stopped three inches from the platter and returned to his side.
“Where’s her mother?”
Lucia shrugged. “I don’t know. I imagine Jake will tell Sam all about it as soon as he can.” She frowned as Owen hurried off to complete his assignment. Aurora assumed he’d spotted Mrs. Hancock directing the troops. “Where am I going to put them?”
“In Sam’s house?” As of two months ago, the couple had been engaged and living next door to each other. Sam had bought the neighbor’s house after mean old Mrs. Beckett was unfortunately discovered dead by Lucia’s oldest son.
“Uh-uh. The place is a disaster. Sam’s cleaning out forty years of mess—he’s rented one of those Dumpster things—and he’s made a bedroom out of the living room, but it’s not okay for company.”
“Maybe Jake could stay with Sam, in the living room, and Winter could stay with you.”
“We could do that, but I’ll bet that’s the last thing she’d want to do, share a room with one of the boys. No,” Lucia said, frowning. “I’ll see if Iris has room at her place. It’s better they stay at a nice B-and-B than have to deal with the chaos at home. Sam’s already taken part of a wall down.”
“You’re still going to put an addition between the houses?”
“Yep.” Lucia grinned. “We’re going to completely renovate Mrs. Beckett’s house and turn half of the downstairs into a professional kitchen. It will be twice as big as I have now.”
“We’ll both be remodeling at the same time,” Aurora said, pleased with herself for having arranged the sliced cheddar cheese sticks into an attractive fan. “I’m glad winter’s over.”
“Me, too.” Lucia smiled at Aurora. “Though it certainly was an exciting one.”
“Who knew Willing would become such a romantic place?”
“I’d be careful if I were you.” Lucia laughed. “You could be next. There’s romance everywhere.”
“I’ll manage to resist.”
“Are you sure about that?”
“Absolutely positive.”
“I believe you,” Lucia said. “But—” Her gaze drifted past Aurora’s shoulder. “You did see Sam’s brother, right?”
“I did.”
“And he is spectacular.”
“Agreed.” The man was certainly a sight to behold. “If you like the type.”
“What is your type, Aurora?”
“I once fell in love with a skinny Frenchman,” she informed her. “But I was thirteen. He played the viola.”
“And what happened?”
“He dumped me for Renee DuBois, who played the flute.”
“And you’re permanently scarred, poor baby.” Lucia handed the finished tray to a waiting teenager. Half of the high school students in town had been hired to run food and dishes from the tent to the house to the barn and back.
“I’m not like you,” Aurora said. “All warm and kind and fluffy and loving.”
“Fluffy?”
“Cuddly,” Aurora corrected. “Men look at you and think of apple pie and cinnamon rolls and cozy nights by the fire. You’re a truly nice person and, well, I’m not.”
“Who says?”
Aurora sighed. “Most everyone in town. And I’m not cuddly.”
“No, you’re not. Which is why I like you so much.”
She couldn’t help laughing at that. “Well, at least someone around here does.”
* * *
WINTER PRETENDED SHE was in a movie. It was the only way to deal with the weird thing she found herself in. Seriously, it was just like a movie. John Wayne himself would fit right in.
Not that anyone knew who John Wayne was, except for Robbie Middlestone. She and Robbie were the only two members of the Lady Pettigrew Film Society to share a love of American Western films. She would try to text him later, if there was any chance of cell reception, to tell him she’d gone to a party on a real Montana ranch.
She walked between her uncle and her father as they made their way to the other side of the crowded room without finding her so-called cousins.
“They’ve probably gone to the tent,” Uncle Sam said.
So off the three of them went to the tent, with Uncle Sam catching Lucia’s eye and pointing to the door as they left. The black-haired woman nodded and handed a large pan to a tall teenaged boy. Winter liked her and wondered if she was part Native American. Imagine having a Native American in her “family.”
Winter was hustled back outside into the cool afternoon air. Music, something old-fashioned and country-sounding, blasted from the barn. No one was really dressed up, but everyone seemed pleased to be at the ranch.
She heard parts of conversations as they walked past clumps of people.
“—maybe that Cora gal and Pete will be next.”
“He bought that old John Deere off Lawrence Parcell, all right. Said it had a lot more years in it.”
“She told him she’d give him one last chance and then? Over. So, it’s over, as of last Friday. Her mother is furious!”
“Gonna clean it up and drive it in the parade. What about you?”
“Monday nights, I heard. Ask Jerry.”
“They won’t even consider that legislation until fall. I told him—”
“Who’s that with Sam?”
Winter knew the answer, even if she didn’t know the woman who asked the question. That’s his brother, who he hasn’t seen in years. And that’s his daughter, who he didn’t know existed. In a place like this, the information would spread quickly.
She’d heard small towns were like that. Gossipy.
Well, they could gossip all they liked. Winter lifted her chin and stared back at two older girls who eyed her curiously. She gave them her best haughty Lady Mary of Downton look, but they didn’t seem impressed.
Winter hurried to keep up with Jake. For all she knew, he could forget about her and disappear into the crowd, leaving her to fend for herself.
Not that she couldn’t do exactly that, but she wasn’t in the mood to find out how to survive by herself in the Wild Wild West.
Not yet, anyway.
The inside of the tent was decorated with little white lights, long tables and benches. The tables were covered with yellow-checked fabric and glass jars filled with white-and-yellow daisies. About a third of the tables held food in casserole dishes or plastic bowls. There was food everywhere, with more coming in all the time. Three young cowboys were busy opening champagne bottles in the corner closest to the door. Giggling girls filled champagne flutes and set them carefully on large silver trays.
Winter sucked in her breath. It was truly lovely and not at all what she had expected. She’d pictured more hay bales and a bunch of picnic tables.
She couldn’t wait to meet the bride and groom now that she no longer thought she and Jake would be kicked out. Being with an uncle made everything okay.
“Hey!” Sam waved to a herd of black-haired boys who were gathered near an old lady. She was round and sharp-eyed, though. Winter assumed she was a grandmother, because she’d met a few of those and they weren’t easily fooled. Robbie’s grandmother had called his mother a twit and his father a rotter, much to Robbie’s joy.
“Money doesn’t buy class,” she’d cluck. Robbie’s grandmother had not been impressed with his parents or with his parents’ piles of money, obviously, no matter how much there was of it.
Winter stayed close to Jake as they crossed to the other side of the tent. He was the only person she’d known longer than fifteen minutes.
“Marie,” Sam said, grinning. “I’d like you to meet my brother, Jake, and his daughter, Winter. Jake and Winter, please meet my future mother-in-law, Marie Swallow.”
To Winter’s surprise, she was enveloped in a hug. As was Jake.
“Welcome to the family,” the woman said. “And here are the boys.” She pointed to each one from tallest to shortest. “Davey, Matty and Tony. My grandsons.”
Winter eyed them. The tallest stared back. He didn’t look much older than eight or nine. The middle one had cake frosting in his hair. The little one leaned sleepily against his grandmother’s side. They were all dark-haired and dark-eyed. Despite wearing dark pants and white shirts, they looked as if they’d get into trouble given a little freedom.
Not exactly an impressive group of cousins. But then again, she reminded herself, she had no experience and had no expectations. For all she knew, everyone had disappointing cousins.
And they didn’t seem too thrilled with her, either, except for the tallest boy, who appeared somewhat fascinated. As if he’d seen a space alien.
Jake shook hands with all three boys, which seemed to impress them. She wondered where their father was, then decided it didn’t matter. Everyone was divorced; sometimes their parents stuck around and sometimes they didn’t. Robbie’s parents were still married, but he’d said there were dreadful rows and his father had a girlfriend in Chelsea.
“So,” Mrs. Swallow said. “Are you a fisherman, too?”
“No.” Jake chuckled. “I’m a musician.”
“Ah,” she said. “Another Hove who can’t stay in one place.”
“Up until now, no,” Jake answered, still chuckling a little. “I travel a lot, though. I guess it does run in the family.”
“Well, I’m glad you’re here,” she said. “Family’s important.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Jake said. “And I’m glad to meet yours.”
Mrs. Swallow looked pleased.
“Your Uncle Jake has come to visit,” Uncle Sam told the boys. “We’ll have to show him around.”
“We could ride horses,” the middle boy suggested. “Owen has ’em.”
“Not now, he doesn’t,” his older brother said. “They’re not back yet.”
“Where did they go?” She hadn’t intended to speak, but Winter couldn’t help herself. She’d always wanted to ride a horse, but every time she’d suggested a summer riding camp her mother had shuddered and muttered, “Broken bones, no way.”
And that had been the end of that.
“To Les’s ranch,” the boy explained. “They usually live there, but when they come back here we can go riding.”
Well, hallelujah. Something to look forward to. Winter glanced up at Jake to see if he was going to object, but instead he cupped her shoulder and said how that sounded like fun and he’d have to meet Owen and talk to him about it.
“Let’s go find Owen, then,” Uncle Sam said. “Want me to take the boys?”
Mrs. Swallow shook her head. “Not right now. The food’s coming and we’ll be eating as soon as the bride and groom say the word. I’ll save room for you here at our table. Tell Lucia everything is ready out here.”
Still stunned about the possibility of riding horses, Winter let herself be led away from the Swallow family and back toward the opened flap door of the tent. She didn’t know how long they’d been here, but they’d done a lot of wandering around the place.
Teenagers carrying large containers of food blocked their way out. It all smelled really good. Better even than the make-it-yourself waffles at the Super 8 this morning.
Jake put his arm around her shoulder and guided her past the staff and into the fresh air. The picnic tables were beginning to fill up now, as wedding guests gathered around plates of appetizers and big vats of lemonade and iced tea. A group of little girls chased each other across the lawn while larger boys, Winter’s age, huddled together and looked self-conscious. Was the whole town here?
“The whole town is here,” her uncle explained, unknowingly answering her question. “You’re going to meet a lot of people.”
“Will they square-dance?”
Sam shot her a curious look. “Why? Do you?”
“No, but I’ve heard about it. And we are out West.”
“I hate to disappoint you,” he said, “but I don’t think there’s going to be square dancing today. Maybe a two-step. There might be a few callers in Billings, but I’ve never heard of square dancing here in Willing.”
“Callers?”
“The people who call out the directions for square dancing. Callers. It’s a lost art, or so I’ve heard.”
“Oh.” She would have to Google that.
“My daughter has spent her life in France and London,” Jake explained. “This is all new to her.”
“Well, it was all new to me, too, last December. I’d never been to Montana before, either.” Her uncle smiled. “I hope you’ll stay awhile so we can get to know one another.”
“Well,” Winter said, “that would be interesting, considering that you must have very exotic stories about the jungle. And it’s not like I have anywhere else to go.”
“No place else to go?” Her uncle didn’t hide his surprise. He gave Jake a weird look. “Are you homeless or something?”
“We’re heading back to Nashville from Seattle,” Jake said gently. “I have a place there.”
Sam didn’t look happy to hear that. “Are you in a hurry?”
“No,” Jake said. “But—”
“Good,” Sam said. Jake had told her he was a zoologist and made movies about catching fish, but today he looked more like her biology teacher at school. “I’ve never had a niece before. And I haven’t had a brother in a long, long time. We need to catch up.”
Winter could have summed it up for him: divorce, unknown daughter, dead ex-wife.
Maybe her so-called father should write a song about that.
* * *
“HE BOUGHT THIRTY picnic tables for the wedding,” Meg said, walking with Aurora to the tent. They’d received strict orders from Lucia to head there immediately. “Who does that?”
“That’s a lot of picnic tables.” Aurora thought it made the ranch yard look festive. The whole wedding should have been photographed for a magazine spread, she decided. Jerry had missed the boat on that one. Friends and neighbors clustered at the tables, stood in groups, walked in and out of the barn, gathered around the entrance to the huge white tent. She guessed four hundred people had showed up for this wedding, though they were scattered between the tent, the picnic tables, the yard and the barn. And as she’d told Sam’s brother, it was a much-deserved holiday for the town.
“Owen insisted they’d come in handy.”
Aurora couldn’t help being curious. “Come in handy for what? I can see that you’d need them now, with this many people, but unless you’re turning the Triple M into a county park, what are you going to do with them?”
“We may decide to use the ranch as a wedding venue. We’ve talked about it,” the bride said. “We’ve talked about it a lot, but I want to keep our privacy, too, you know?”
“Really?” It was a beautiful place, and where better to get married than a historic ranch with its own party barn? “You could cater, Lucia could do the wedding cakes, I could provide the bar. Les could park cars and your mother—what would Loralee do?”
“Babysit,” Meg pronounced. “Because I intend to have at least three children.”
“Good for you.” Aurora gave her an approving look. “You’ll be a great mother.”
“We don’t want to wait too long,” she said. “We want to have lots of little MacGregors running around the ranch.”
Aurora laughed. “That’s going to keep Loralee busy.”
That was ambitious, but Aurora admired a person who knew what she wanted. “You’re spending your wedding night here or in Billings?”
“Here. This is home.”
“Owen knows about all of these future babies?”
“It was his idea.” Meg laughed. And blushed.
“Maybe my new addition will be finished for the baby shower,” Aurora mused. “If the weather’s nice we can open up the new patio.”
“I want to see those plans,” Meg said. “I can’t wait to see what you’ve decided.”
“After the honeymoon,” Aurora promised.
Meg shuddered. “You and Lucia are really brave. I’m not sure I could take that kind of mess around me. Just the cleaning and painting in this house has been more than enough work.”
They reached the tent, where Loralee waved anxiously. “Come on,” she called. “We’re ready for the toast!”
Aurora followed Meg inside, then hurried over to the young men in charge of opening the champagne. Meg and Owen had wisely decided that would be the only alcohol at the party, considering that it was a family-oriented event and that most people had to drive ninety miles back to town.
“We’ll do it outdoors,” Owen said, coming up to give Meg a kiss and a glass of champagne. “And then everyone can help themselves to food.”
Lucia met them just outside the tent. “We’re ready!”
Aurora stood to the side and watched the happy couple accept congratulations from the crowd.
“Here,” Jerry said, stepping next to her. He handed her a percussion triangle and a beater. “Hit this, will you? It’s to call in the cowboys.”
“You must be joking.” She dangled the large triangle from its chain.
“No. Hit it as hard as you want. Take out all of your anger and aggression,” he said, looking out at the groups of people walking toward them across the lawn. “No doubt it will be good for you.”
“I’ll pretend it’s your head,” she said sweetly.
* * *
JAKE ENDED UP sitting inside the tent at a table with his brother, Sam’s fiancée, her three children, Mrs. Swallow, Winter and the gorgeous Aurora Jones.
An odd assortment of wedding guests, he mused. But he liked looking across the table at the three little boys sitting next to his brother. Oddly enough, Aurora sat to his left and Winter to his right. Lucia sat next to Winter and engaged her in a discussion about school in France. It seemed that Lucia had attended a baking school in Paris one summer and spoke some French. Winter chattered away as if she’d known the woman forever.
Jake hoped his daughter wouldn’t bring up the severe psychological issues revelation again.
Sam happily surveyed the mound of assorted food on his plate. “This town sure has its share of good cooks.”
“You like it here, then.”
“You will, too,” his brother assured him. “How long can you stay?”
“I haven’t decided. We’re taking our time, getting to know each other.”
“And her mother?”
“Died.”
Sam stopped chewing and stared at him. As did Aurora. Jake looked over to make sure that his daughter was engrossed in her conversation with Lucia. He lowered his voice. “I only found out two weeks ago. It took a while to get the paperwork squared away so she could come here. There was a stepfather, but he wasn’t involved in her life.”
“And you didn’t know anything about her?” This question came from his brother.
“No,” he admitted. “I had no clue. It was a short marriage, and she left me to go back home to France. I figure she wanted out of the marriage and if I had known about the baby, things would have become very complicated.” And Merry didn’t do complicated. She had been a free spirit, a beauty whose smile gave her everything she wanted. And when she didn’t want Jake any more, she left.
Sam put down his fork and studied his brother. “But you have her now. And that’s a good thing.”
“For me,” Jake said. “But I don’t think Winter thinks she got a very good deal.”
“Then you’ll have to prove yourself,” Aurora said. “You’ll have to prove you’re good enough to be her father.”
“I don’t have to prove anything,” he all but snapped. “I’m already her father.”
“Biologically,” the irritating woman said. “But that doesn’t mean anything.”
“It does to me,” Jake retorted, turning toward her.
She blinked. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything.”
“Hey,” Sam interjected. “You’re both right. This isn’t going to be easy, but you’re Winter’s father now. You’re all she has.”
“And I’m scared to death.” He didn’t care if the woman next to him heard it.
“You’ll do good,” Sam assured him. “I’m still learning how this parent business works, but it’s a pretty good deal.”
Aurora faced Winter. “Do you think you’d like to stay here for a little while and visit with your new family?”
Winter considered the question carefully while Jake listened for the answer. He had no idea what she would say. “Well, I’d like to stay and learn to ride Mr. MacGregor’s horses, but my mother died and now Jake is stuck with me and we’re going to Nashville.”
“I am not stuck—”
“You are,” she interrupted. “But it’s not your fault.” She looked up at her uncle. “Have you ever been to Nashville?”
“I have not,” he replied. “But we’ll certainly visit you there.”
“You will?”
He smiled. “Of course. All of us. Maybe we’ll get to hear your dad sing somewhere.”
Jake laughed. “Are you forgetting how my guitar made you crazy when you were a kid?”
“It was pretty bad at first,” Sam admitted. “But you got better at it.”
“I’d like to stay here, but just for a little while,” Winter told Aurora. “I’m in no hurry to go to a new school.”
“That’s right,” Aurora said in realization. “You should be in school.”
“I’ll need to take a placement test for seventh grade, but there shouldn’t be any problem. I excelled in everything at Lady Pettigrew’s.”
“Really? Everything?”
“Well,” she said, looking down at the fried chicken on her plate. “Except deportment.”
“Now, that runs in the family,” Jake muttered, glancing toward Sam.
* * *
“DID YOU BRING your shotgun?” Jake thought that was about as good an opening line he’d ever used, but Aurora Jones looked less than impressed.
“Please,” she drawled. “Don’t bother flirting.”
He wasn’t even thinking of flirting, not really. He couldn’t help looking at her, though. And wanting to tease her until she relented a bit and smiled at him. “You’re a beautiful woman. Why isn’t flirting allowed? Are you married? Engaged? In a relationship with the local sheriff? What?”
“You can forget the charm,” she said, waving her hand as if to wave him away. “It’s wasted on me. I’m immune.”
“All right,” was the only reply he could manage. “I’m flattered that you think I’m, uh, charming, but that’s not—”
“And the whole country-singer thing? Forget it. I’m not the groupie type.”
“I didn’t think you—”
“Don’t,” she said.
“Don’t what?”
“You’re doing it again. That smile.”
Jake sighed. “You are a lot of work, you know that?”
She had the gall to look affronted. “What exactly is that supposed to mean?”
“Never mind. I just wanted to thank you again for helping Winter this morning.
She looked doubtful, so he continued.
“She told me you thought she was in some kind of trouble, that you’d offered to call the police and protect her from me. I appreciate that.”
She almost smiled. “It could have caused you a lot of trouble.’
“It could have caused you to miss the wedding.”
They both went silent for a long moment.
“Your daughter has been through a lot, am I right?”
“Yes.”
“Is any of it your fault?”
He thought about that. “Technically, no. I didn’t know anything about her,” he said. “But I keep thinking I should have.”
“Maybe,” she said. “But you’re with her now, so don’t screw it up.”
“All right.”
“I meant what I said, about proving yourself. Being a father. You won’t know if you did a good job for a long, long time.”
“Do you have children?”
He caught a flash of pain in those blue eyes. “No,” she said. “But I was eleven once.”
“And you remember how hard it was?”
“It wasn’t hard at all. I was a pampered and adored only child, but I was a natural worrier. Just like your daughter.”
“She’s had a lot to worry about,” he said with a sigh. “Would you like to dance?”
“No.”
“Aw, come on.” He gestured toward his daughter, laughing as she learned to two-step with her uncle Sam. “I promised Winter I’d meet her on the dance floor.”
He held out his hand and she hesitated before taking it. “You’re going to scandalize the entire town,” she said. “Dancing with Aurora Jones just isn’t done.”
“Why not?” He led her through the dancers and stopped close to Sam and Winter. “Is it against the law?”
“No, but I tend to scare people. We had dancing lessons at my bar last fall. To prepare for the television show.” She went into his arms, but reluctantly. “I didn’t dance. I should have taken lessons, but I hid behind the bar.”
“You are a little scary,” he teased. “Beautiful women can be.”
“You’re flirting again?”
“Sorry.” He watched his daughter and his brother dance to “San Antonio Rose.” Sam had lost that permanently haunted and exhausted expression he’d carried around ten years ago. Jake had blamed his brother’s weariness on his jungle life, but now he realized that Sam had been lonely. And now he wasn’t.
“Tell me about Lucia,” he said to his dancing partner.
“She’s the nicest woman I’ve ever known,” Aurora replied. “Your brother is very lucky.”
“They’re good together?”
“Yes.”
Jake believed her, and the relief that swept through him made the whole trip worthwhile.
* * *
“ARE YOU THINKING what I’m thinking?”
“What are you thinking, Jerry?” Meg took a break from dancing and stood next to the mayor. They’d become friends, he realized. Together they’d managed to put the town on the map. Together they’d turned a group of scruffy bachelors into television stars.
“Check it out,” he said, pointing to Aurora dancing with the newest arrival in town. “She almost looks human.”
“She’s a good person,” Meg said. “The two of you really should stop bickering.”
He snorted. “That’ll be the day. The woman was put on earth to annoy me. Look who she’s dancing with.”
“Sam’s brother? He seems nice enough. Do you think they look—”
“For heaven’s sake, Meg. That’s Jake Hove. Jake Hove. I can’t believe I didn’t recognize the name when Sam got here. Hove isn’t exactly a common name.”
“He’s a singer, I heard.”
“I looked him up on Google. He hasn’t had a hit in six years, but he did all right before that. When he was younger.”
“And your point is?” She waved at her husband, who was bouncing around the room with Loralee, his mother-in-law. Jerry shuddered. Owen MacGregor was a brave man.
“We’re attracting celebrities now, Meg. Sam Hove, adventurer and filmmaker. Your husband, descendant of ranching royalty. He doesn’t really count, though, because he lived here before the show. But now we have Jake Hove, Nashville star. Look at him! He’s making Aurora smile!”
“She smiles sometimes,” Meg said, but Jerry noticed she stared at the dancing couple with new intensity. “When she feels like it.”
“Oops, guess I spoke too soon.” Jerry sighed. “We have to find him a nicer woman.”
“Why?”
“So he’ll stay,” Jerry said. “He’ll attract other famous people.”
“I don’t think—”
“And,” Jerry announced, the thought coming to him in a flash of inspiration, “he can write the town a theme song!”
“Have you been drinking? We specifically told everyone that there would be no alcohol except for the toast—”
“No, no.” He waved off her frown. “Who would be a good match? Patsy? She’s outgoing enough. Or Iris. He could stay at the B-and-B and they could get to know each other.”
“Maybe,” Meg said, obviously unconvinced. “Iris is seeing a teacher from Lewiston, I think. I don’t know about Patsy, but if she’s interested she’ll make it known.”
“We do need a theme song. Do you think he’d do it for free?”
“I’m not asking him. And you shouldn’t, either.”
“All he can say is no.”
“You’ll embarrass Sam. And Lucia.”
Jerry considered that for a long moment. “Sam and I get along just fine. Next time we’re having breakfast at the café, I’ll casually bring up the subject and see what he says. No pressure. Just a man-to-man conversation.”
