Hot Cowboy Nights (Lucky Penny Ranch #2)(83)

Blake whipped around, flapjack turner in one hand and platter in the other. “So that’s the way it is for real?”

“Don’t tell Allie. Let Lizzy tell her when she’s ready,” Toby said.

“Wouldn’t think of it. She’d just fret and worry,” Blake said. “So what are you going to do about it?”

Toby finished setting the table. “Today I’m going to eat a big stack of pancakes and a bunch of bacon, plow some land, check on some cattle.”

“And about Lizzy?”

“What can I do? Mitch is coming to town. If she’s not over him, then things could go sideways in a hurry. I’m learning patience but it’s not easy,” Toby answered.

“Okay, then. Let’s eat breakfast and get on with what we have to do. We don’t need to worry about what we have no control over,” Blake said.

“Spoken like three wise cowboys.” Deke laughed. “Ever think about how we just face things and go on and women talk every single thing to death?”

“Oh, yeah.” Blake grinned. “So who bought your ranch, Deke?”

Deke scooted five pancakes over onto his plate. “I will tell you one thing about that and then I’m not sayin’ another word. When the buyer gets ready to tell you, you are going to be two surprised brothers. You might want to be sitting down. I’m sworn to secrecy until after the weekend. If it hasn’t been discovered by Monday morning, then I will tell you, but right now all I’m going to talk about is how damn fine this breakfast is.”





Chapter Twenty-Four



The energy in Dry Creek that Saturday morning was electrifying. Nadine had opened her café but she was only serving as a hostess, talking to people, providing headquarters for the festival along with platter after platter of cookies and gallon after gallon of sweet tea to the folks.

Banners stretched across both ends of Main Street and God bless Lucy Hudson’s heart because she’d taken it upon herself to invite vendors to the festival. Since it was the first year, they could set up their tables and booths on the sidewalks on both sides of the street at no charge. Folks sold hand-tied horse halters, purses, and blinged-out western jewelry, artwork, woodcrafts, and handmade items along with Indian tacos, baked goods, chili pies, and hot dogs.

A bouncy house and pony ride for the kids and a mechanical bull for the bravehearted took up a chunk of the blocked-off Main Street. People had parked up and down the road for a mile on either end of town, and by midmorning Dry Creek was buzzing with excitement.

At noon folks began to meander down to the church to eat a free lunch provided by the churchwomen and then came back with their lawn chairs to sit and visit until time for fireworks.

Lizzy and Fiona were busy helping Nadine in the café that afternoon. Lizzy was jealous of every single person who stopped to talk to Fiona that day. Not because she was getting attention, but because Lizzy didn’t want to share her sister. She would have rather spent the whole day just the two of them in her feed store with the door locked. Then she and Fiona could play with the kittens and talk about the new twists in both of their lives.

“So do you see Mitch anywhere yet?” Fiona asked.

“I hope I don’t see him at all. I hope he and his new wife are so swamped with events that they can’t find time to get down here,” Lizzy answered as they carried two empty platters to the kitchen to refill with cookies.

“You probably need to see him one more time just for closure.” Fiona piled chocolate chip cookies on one platter and peanut butter brownies on the other. She handed one to Lizzy and nodded toward the dining room. “Folks are going through these so fast I’m wondering if we’ll make it to the end of the day.”

“If we don’t, there’s about twenty bags of store-bought cookies in the pantry. Nadine said they aren’t as good as these but latecomers can’t be choosers,” Lizzy said.

“Elizabeth?” The voice was familiar.

Lizzy set the platter down and turned slowly to find Myra Turner, Mitch’s fiancée/wife/whatever, at her elbow. The woman hadn’t changed much in the past five months. Long brown hair flowed down her back to her waist. Hazel eyes were set in a round baby face with full lips and a perky little nose. That day she wore a multicolored skirt that skimmed her ankles and a lovely little Victorian lacy blouse.

“Myra.” She nodded.

“Could we talk?” Myra’s eyes darted around the full café. Folks had been taking advantage of the tables and the air-conditioning as well as the refreshments all day.

“It’s pretty quiet in the kitchen. Come on. Fiona, folks can help themselves to cookies,” Lizzy said.

“Are you sure?” Fiona asked.

“Very sure.” Lizzy led the way and didn’t have to motion toward the chairs pulled up to an old yellow chrome table for Myra to slide into one. The poor woman looked pale and absolutely miserable.

“I’ve made a big mistake and it’s too late to get out of it,” Myra said. “But before I unload on you because I know you will understand, I need to apologize for what Mitch and I did to you. That was cruel and ugly, and I’m sorry.”

“That’s in the past but thank you and apology accepted,” Lizzy said.

“I’m pregnant and I don’t want to marry Mitch,” Myra spit out as if she had to get the words out in a hurry. “What do I do?”