How to Lasso a Cowboy (16 page)

Harlan looked up at his younger brother and saw him with new eyes. He was a man now, one who was taking charge, hell, even telling Harlan what to do. It was time to stop seeing Tobias as anything other than the scared, hungry little boy who had relied on his big brother to take care of him. “You're as crazy as a flying pig. I'm not going into the furniture business.”

“You are and you should.” Tobias pulled the chair out further, nearly tipping Harlan out of it. He gave his older brother a wide, but firm grin. “Now get the hell out of my office before I have to get the cattle prod.”

 

“I'm not going.”

Mildred turned to Grandma Watson. Both women were
already dressed for the evening, in beaded dresses and low-heeled shoes. Mildred, in typical Mildred fashion, wore bright pink, complete with a pink-and-white wrist corsage—a gift from Art Conway. “Maybe if I hit her with pepper spray, she'll be more cooperative.”

“You are not pepper spraying my only granddaughter, Mildred Meyers.” Grandma put a fist on her hip. “Sophie's upset. She just needs a moment.”

“I don't need a moment. I'm not going to the dance.”

Mildred raised a brow, as if to say,
see? I told you so.

Grandma sighed, grabbed another cookie from the plate, then ate two bites before she spoke again. “I understand that man did something that you think is unforgivable.”

“
Think?
It is. He promised me he wouldn't say one more word about my private life on the air. Then I hear him telling the whole world about how I ran out on my own wedding—”

“Sophie, I hardly think WFFM reaches the whole world,” Mildred cut in.

“A big enough portion of it.” Sophie turned to the breadbox, pulled out a box of biscotti, and took one of the cookies. Just before she took a bite, she remembered they were Harlan's favorite treat, and she put it back inside the container.

“You're holding out on us.” Grandma pouted. “You had biscotti all this time, and didn't share it with us?”

Sophie put the box on the table. “Here you are. Eat them all. Please.” Then maybe she wouldn't be reminded of Harlan and the appealing way he said
bis-yummy.

“We can't eat biscotti without coffee,” Grandma said, then gave her granddaughter a sweet smile. “Especially that amazing coffee you make.”

“I still can't believe my matchmaking instincts were so off,” Mildred said while Sophie began grinding beans
and setting up the coffeepot. “I really saw Harlan as the perfect match for Sophie.”

Grandma patted Mildred's hand. “It could still work out.”

Sophie didn't tell the women the chances of that were zero. She'd nearly married a man she didn't love because she'd fooled herself into thinking he was the one, that he actually cared and supported what was important to her. She wasn't going to be a fool a second time, not with her heart. Not again.

A few minutes later, Sophie had freshly brewed Guatemalan Roast poured into three mugs. With biscotti in her hand and coffee in her mug, Mildred stopped talking about using her pepper spray, thank goodness. Maybe they'd both forgotten the crazy idea of convincing Sophie that going to the dance was a good idea.

“You better hurry,” Grandma said, after her third biscotti and second cup of coffee. “Or you won't be ready in time.”

Apparently they hadn't forgotten. Sophie sighed.

“Your grandmother's right,” Mildred said. “Besides, you, of all people, can't be late.” The older lady smiled, and in that moment, Sophie saw that she had been holding back a trump card all this time. “You're the one making the speech, thanking the volunteers and announcing how much money we raised for the community wellness center.”

Another speech. Sophie groaned. “Mildred, really, anyone can do that.”

“No, not just anyone can. You're passionate about this, Sophie.” Beside Mildred, Grandma Watson nodded her agreement. “No one can make the case for this center like you can.”

“Miss Meyers…” Sophie's voice trailed off. The two women had a point. They sat at Sophie's kitchen table,
watching her expectantly and waiting for her to see it. Sophie sighed. When it came right down to it, the need for a town community wellness center trumped everything else, even her dread of giving speeches and her worry that every newspaper in a tri-state area would be there to dredge up the past. “You're right.”

“Of course we are.” Mildred cheered. “Now go get your party dress on.”

Grandma nodded. “Show that Harlan Jones what he's missing out on.”

“And if he tries to hurt our Sophie again,” Mildred said, digging in her purse for the ubiquitous spray can that went everywhere with her, “I'll take him out.”

 

Harlan spent the afternoon at the park with the dogs. When the volunteer crews came in to set up the temporary stage for the band and string twinkle lights in the trees, he took Mortise and Tenon home. Instead of bounding up to the house, though, the dogs headed for the woodshop.

He chuckled. The goldens knew him too well. They had undoubtedly read the stress in his shoulders and guessed he'd be working it off with some wood and a hammer. Either that or Tobias had been talking to them.

Mortise and Tenon bounced on their paws and barked in tandem, waiting until he lifted the garage door and the three of them could go inside. As soon as the door cleared the ground, the dogs squeezed underneath and bounded off to their favorite spots—Mortise by the tool bench, Tenon in the corner. Harlan flicked the light switch, and started to walk toward the table saw.

He stopped. Took in the pieces that sat in various stages of completion. Another pair of chairs like the ones at Sophie's shop. A coffee table made of a rich mahogany, its squat legs carved in an Old World pattern that matched
the elaborate drawers and thick weight of the long rectangular piece. A bookshelf that was to go in Tobias's den, and would match the other minimalist Shaker style pieces he'd already constructed for his brother.

All these years, he'd never seen the pieces he created en masse, never seen them as a…future. He finally let the words he'd been hearing for years sink in, and take root.
Incredible work. Unique designs. True talent.

Then Sophie's words on the beach came back to him.
I thought cowboys weren't scared of anything.

He ran a hand over the top of the bookshelf. His palm slipped along the sleek wood, sanded as smooth as glass. The piece seemed to whisper to him.
Take a chance. Risk it all. You can do it.

Then his mind filled with the images of his childhood—the empty bank account, the lean meals, the threadbare clothes. The hours Harlan had worked, the pitifully small checks he'd handed over to his mother, trying to do what he could to alleviate the stress in her features, the heavy burden on her shoulders. Harlan had worried—worried enough for all of them.

And in the background, the father who tried and failed, tried and failed, all at the expense of his own family. That was where dreams got people.

Harlan took his hand off the bookshelf. He called the dogs to him, shut up the woodshop for tonight, and headed into the house.

 

Sophie's doorbell rang. Twice, in short succession. Goodness, Grandma and Mildred were persistent. They'd only left ten minutes ago, and already they were back? She hadn't even had time to get dressed yet.

Sophie drew on a robe, knotted the belt, then crossed to
her front door and opened it. “Harlan. What are you doing here?”

Harlan shifted from foot to foot, then removed his hat and held it to his chest. If he was going to the town dance, it didn't show in his attire—he was wearing jeans and a T-shirt advertising the radio station. She was tempted to shut the door in his face—after all that had happened he dared to come by her house?—but she waited. For what, she wasn't sure.

“I came by to apologize,” he said.

The anger that had bloomed in her chest when she saw him on her porch began to dissipate. A little. “For what?”

“I stopped by the coffee shop a little while ago. Talked to Lulu. Got the whole scoop on your wedding, or, nonwedding, I guess.”

Now the anger flared again, a hot flame racing through her. “Great. Now you can share all the gory details with your listeners.” She went to shut the door, but Harlan grabbed it and stopped her.

“Let me say my piece, Sophie.”

“Don't you think you've said enough? Told enough of my life to all your loyal fans? And given the reporters something to write about?”

“That was never my intention. That reporter brought it up, and I swear—”

She put up a hand, cutting him off. “I don't want to hear the excuses, Harlan. You don't have any idea the kind of damage you leave in your wake.”

He took a step closer to her, making her acutely aware she was only wearing a robe. Damn the man for still being able to affect her. “I admit, in the beginning, I shouldn't have told those lunatic neighbor stories. I have apologized for that, and stopped telling any tales about you. But the
whole thing about your engagement was an accident. I didn't exploit it and I didn't exploit you.”

“No, you just turned me into the laughingstock of the town. Again. Do you have any idea what my life was like after I ran out of that church? How the reporter vultures hounded me? How everyone focused on that instead of my coffee shop? People came into the shop and didn't want to order coffee, they wanted to get a scoop. It took months for that to stop.
Months.
”

“I'm sorry. I had no idea.” He reached for her, but she leaned away from his touch.

“Leave me alone, Harlan. Just go away.”

“Why are you so afraid?”

Her chin jutted up. “I'm not afraid of anything.”

“You are, darlin',” he said, that smooth drawl washing over her even as she wished he'd stop talking. “You're afraid of making a public spectacle. You're afraid that people will talk about you and your mistakes from here to Kingdom Come. And you're afraid as hell to fall in love.”

“You're wrong.” But the lie was getting harder to hold on to. No matter how many times her friends had told her not to let the wedding fiasco bother her, she had. She had let it stop her from being her usual self. From getting out in public and really supporting the community wellness center.

She had been afraid, and what had it cost her?

“When we were on the radio and you kissed me that afternoon, were you afraid?” Harlan asked.

“Well, I hardly had time to think about anything. It just…happened.” Because she'd wanted it even more than the crowd had. Because she'd been unable to see or hear anything other than Harlan.

“Exactly. You just did it. You didn't think about the
consequences. If you ask me, and I know you aren't, but I'm telling you what I think anyway, you've gotten yourself all wrapped up in the possibilities, rather than living with the actualities.”

“What's that supposed to mean?”

“You keep on worrying about what might happen instead of noticing what did.”

Oh, she had noticed all right. She'd gone and fallen for a man who was as wrong for her as a dress on an elephant. “Who are you to talk? You're so afraid to go into business for yourself that you keep working a job that you don't like.”

“That's different.” He scowled. “I have people depending on me. I can't just up and take a risk like that.”

She propped a fist on her hip. “Seems to me you keep on worrying about what might happen instead of concentrating on what did.”

He scowled. “Dammit, that's not the same thing.”

“Yeah, it is, Harlan. You want me to take risks, to trust you, and you don't even trust yourself.” She bit her lip, wishing he would leave. “I
did
take a risk. I trusted you. And look where it got me.”

“It got you right here. Doing things that were maybe out of your comfort zone, but they were good for you.”

She looked away, cursing the tears that blurred her vision. “You don't know what's good for me. You just do your show and you don't think about the consequences. About the people you hurt with your words.”

“I used to be that way,” Harlan said. “Then I met you.”

Her gaze swiveled back to his. She wanted to believe him—everything within her wanted to do that—but she couldn't. She'd been fooled once before, and come within minutes of walking down the aisle to a man who had fed
her lines about how much he loved and supported her, when at heart, he didn't. He'd only thought about his own self, his own career. “I don't believe you. You told me yourself that your job is to entertain listeners and up the ratings. To make money, no matter who gets hurt in the process. When it comes right down to it, which is more important, the bottom line or the people you care about?”

“That's not a fair question, Sophie. I'm supporting—”

“The bottom line.” She shook her head. “I knew it. You know what? Don't bother coming to the dance tonight. Just tell everyone the Cold Feet Coffeegirl stood you up. Your listeners should get a real kick out of that one. Goodbye, Harlan.”

This time she did shut the door. And he didn't try to stop her.

T
HE
band was playing a medley of pop hits, the music amplified by the wide leaves of the palm trees, sending sounds skipping from one end of the park to the other. People began to trickle into the park, many of them couples Mildred had put together. They were walking hand in hand, or arm in arm. Sophie spied Lulu and Kevin heading for the buffet line and sent them a friendly wave. Lulu was acting like she couldn't care less if Kevin was with her, but every once in a while she snuck a glance over her shoulder to see if he was still following her. When she turned back, her face held a soft, secret smile. Kevin just grinned, more than happy to play along.

Sophie glanced down at the soft jersey black dress and heels she'd chosen for the dance—partly because Mildred and Grandma Watson rejected her first dozen outfits. It was one of those figure-hugging dresses that she had bought on a whim, then left to hang in her closet, waiting for the perfect occasion. Well, really, waiting for an occasion when she felt brave enough to wear it.

The dress was a big step out of Sophie's regular attire. It had a deep plunging V neckline, a narrow waist and a pencil skirt that took some getting used to, particularly when she had to walk in the four-inch heels that Grandma and Mildred had insisted were the only footwear option
for such a dress. Thankfully, there were concrete paths winding all around the park, which made walking a lot easier.

Lulu crossed to her and let out a low whistle. “Sister, that is a dress and a half. You look like a supermodel.”

Sophie ran a hand down the dress, suddenly feeling uncomfortable and very, very noticeable. So much for her plan to blend into the background. “Thanks. I don't know what I was thinking. It's too much for tonight.”

“That dress,” Lulu said, pointing a finger at Sophie's attire, “is too much
anytime.
And that's why it's perfect for you.”

“For me? Lulu, I'm no sex kitten.” She held up one high-heeled foot. “And I never wear shoes like these.”

“Well, you should. It looks terrific on you.” Lulu crossed her arms over her chest. “So why did you wear it then?”

“It's been sitting in my closet forever and I thought it was time I got my money's worth out of it.”

Lulu laughed. “You are such a liar. You wanted to be noticed. Particularly by that cowboy.”

Sophie shook her head. “Not by him. That's for sure.”

“Well, it's going to get people talking, that's for sure.”

Sophie raised her chin. “Let 'em talk.” She thought about all the months she had worried about what people were thinking. Worried about how it would impact her business. Worried about…well, about nothing, really. Yeah, it might have been better to do it before she was halfway down the aisle, but truly, her decision not to marry Jim was all hers. Didn't matter what anyone else thought. “I'm done worrying about what people think.”

“I'm sure glad to hear that, girlfriend.” Then Lulu glanced over and saw Kevin, who sent her a little wave. “Speaking of getting noticed, I need to get back to my honey bunny.”

“You and Kevin really seem to have hit it off.”

Lulu's smile was wide and full. “That boy put the sprinkles back on my ice cream. But don't tell him I said that.”

“Why not?”

“Because keeping him on his toes keeps him busy trying to woo me. And, girl, I deserve to be wooed.” Lulu winked, then headed off to Kevin's side. By the time she got there, the wide smile had been curbed, and she was wearing an attitude of I-don't-care, so transparent men on the moon could have seen through it.

Sophie headed toward the podium set up in the gazebo. In a few minutes, she'd make her final speech, and this time, it had to count. Over the course of the week, the committee had raised several thousand dollars through contributions and Spring Fling activity fees. It was enough to get the renovations on the building at least started. With one more big push, maybe there'd be enough to see the project through to completion.

And if there wasn't, well, she'd find another way to spread the word and raise the money. The town needed this, and Sophie was done letting her fears get in the way of her dreams.

She took a deep breath, then crossed to the podium. Earlier, she'd put her speech notes on the stand, and she pulled them in front of her now and reviewed the high points. She noticed a second microphone attached to the podium, this one bearing the bright green and white logo for WFFM.

Tobias crutched his way over to her. The color and excitement in his face told her he was feeling better. “It was Harlan's idea,” he said, pointing at the mike. “He called me up a little while ago, told me to get the remote crew
down here and do a live broadcast. He thought it would be good to give your cause a little extra exposure.”

“He did?”

Tobias leaned on the podium, taking some of the weight off his leg. “I don't know if you caught the whole show today, but he did his damndest to get people to talk about something other than you. It's live radio, you know, so you can't always control what comes out of people's mouths.” He tapped the top of the podium. “Anyway, I'll let you get to your speech. I gotta get over to the remote booth and make sure we're all set to stream live.”

After Tobias left, Sophie considered what he'd said. Had she jumped to conclusions with Harlan? Assumed the worst about him because it was easier than hearing she was wrong? And less scary than letting him into her heart?

She'd always thought of herself as a risk-taker—she'd gone into business for herself, after all—but maybe she hadn't been taking the most important kinds of risks. The kind where she allowed another person to get close to her.

When it came to Harlan, though, the risk seemed too big. She'd trusted him, and ended up hurt.

Tobias gave her the go-signal. Sophie cleared her throat, then started to speak. “I'd like to welcome everyone to the annual Spring Fling dance. Tonight, we have the added excitement of it being the last official date for our Love Lottery couples. I hope you all had a wonderful and romantic week.” A cheer went up among the crowd. “We held the Love Lottery, not just to give happy endings to eligible singles, but to help make another dream come true. This community is important to me, as I'm sure it is to all of you. You all have been there for me, for my business, and for my grandmother, over the last few years, and I wanted
to say thank you. If it hadn't been for that support, I don't think I would have been brave enough to take the risks that I have.”

As she said the words, she realized they were true. Yes, there were a few mean-spirited people and reporters who had branded her with that nickname after she ran out on her wedding, but by and large it was the people of Edgerton Shores—her friends, her family—who had hugged her and supported her. Who had stopped in at Cuppa Java Café, some every day, to show their support for her business, one cup of coffee at a time.

“I'm asking you now to support each other. This town needs a community wellness center, a place where people young and old can go to take exercise classes, play games, and most of all, build that support network that all of us need. For a long time, having a community wellness center in Edgerton Shores was just a dream, but now, thanks to the community's help, we're that much closer to making it a reality. That's what makes Edgerton Shores a town that people love to call home. A place I love to call home.”

The crowd cheered. Sophie's gaze roamed across the familiar faces. Her heart skipped a beat when she saw one she hadn't expected.

Harlan.

He stood at the edge of the crowd, watching her. She couldn't read his expression from this far away, but could feel the intensity of his gaze, all the way to her toes. She had to force herself to look away, to concentrate on her speech. He had come to the dance, but that didn't mean he'd come for her.

“Thank you all,” she said, “for supporting the community wellness center, and for being a part of Edgerton Shores' Spring Fling celebration. And for those of you
participating in the Love Lottery, I wish you a happy ending.”

Then she got off the stage, because her throat had clogged and her eyes had started burning. Happy endings all around…except for Sophie herself.

The band started playing again, this time a slow song, encouraging the couples to come onto the gazebo and take a spin. Volunteers carried the podium away, just as several couples stepped into their partners' arms, under the twinkling lights strung around the circular world of the gazebo.

Sophie headed for the drinks table, and grabbed herself a glass of punch, downing the fruity drink fast. Her nerves hadn't totally disappeared during that speech, but they had abated. From now on, she was determined not to let her nervousness stop her when it came to raising the funds for the center.

Ernie came up to her, wearing a bright red Love Doctor emblazoned suit with a white shirt and white shoes. “Hell of a speech there,” he said.

“Thanks.”

“In fact, you inspired me. What says love more than supporting a community?” He reached in his breast pocket and with a flourish, pulled out a check.

“Oh, my. Thank you!” Sophie stared at the generous numbers. “This will be a huge help. You have no idea.”

He shrugged. “I make enough money telling people how to be happy with each other. It's only right I give some of that back.”

“Edgerton Shores truly appreciates your generosity.” She reached out and drew Ernie into a quick hug.

He laughed. “Does this mean I'm forgiven for making you kiss Harlan?”

She glanced at the check again, still not believing the numbers before her. “Yes, completely.”

“Good. Because I think you and he especially deserve that happy ending you were talking about.” Ernie jerked his head to the right. Harlan was striding toward them, a tall drink of whiskey as Lulu called him, in dark jeans, a white button-down shirt and that white cowboy hat. “I guess you don't have to wait too long to hear what kind of ending you're getting.”

Damn. Even now, just the sight of Harlan made her melt. She wanted to leave, to avoid what was coming, but decided the new Sophie, the one who didn't care what people said about her, would stand her ground. Ernie said goodbye to her, then walked away.

“You've got a way with words, darlin',” Harlan said. “Maybe you should consider a career in radio.”

She laughed. “I don't think so. I've got enough on my plate.”

“I was thinking maybe WFFM could do a remote show from your coffee shop every once in a while,” Harlan said. “A kind of what's happening in the community thing. It'd let you promote that center of yours, and any other important things.”

She thought about his offer. It touched her that he had listened to what was important to her, and was offering his help and support. And definitely something she could do. “Sounds like a good idea. Thank you.”

He pulled off his hat and spun it between his fingers. “What you said back there, about dreams becoming reality, it made me think.”

“About what?”

“About how you were right, Sophie.”

An unbidden smile filled her face. “That's twice in one week you've said that, Mr. Jones.”

“I'm really going to have to do something about you calling me by my last name.”

How she wanted to fall back into the tease in his eyes, the grin on his face, the low, sexy notes in his voice. But the part of her that had been burned before danced away from the possibility. “I…I can't.”

She spun toward the gazebo where dozens of couples were circling the floor in each other's arms. Harlan came up behind her. That man was determined and stubborn. She turned around. “Harlan, please don't—”

He put a finger over her lips, cutting her off. Sophie caught the scent of his cologne, fresh, clean and crisp, and the slightly salty taste of his skin before his hand dropped away. “It's not too late, Sophie. It's never too late to say you love someone.”

“You…what?”

“You were right when you said I was afraid. All my life, I've been afraid of repeating my father's mistakes. I spent my life trying to earn the money he never did, and that made me as shy as a colt at a gunfight.”

“That's why you've been reluctant to quit your job and go into furniture making full-time.”

He nodded. “I didn't realize that by not going after what I really wanted, I didn't just hurt myself. I hurt the woman I love.”

He'd said it twice. She still couldn't believe it. “You…you love me?”

“I do indeed, darlin'.” He smiled, then took her hand, and led her up into the gazebo. He cradled one of her hands in his, placed the other against her back. “And if I'm going to say I love you, Sophie Watson, I'm damned well going to do it with you in my arms.”

The band kept playing a sweet, slow song, and Harlan had begun to move in easy steps to the right, bringing her
up against the heat of his body. The hard strength of him made her pulse skitter, her heart leap. “But…but we barely know each other.”

“We've spent more hours together than most people do in a year. And besides, I don't need months and months to figure out what I want.” His gaze met hers. “I want you.”

His blue eyes held an intensity that told her every word was true. That this wasn't some kind of infatuation that would blow over with the first strong wind. That the man she had gotten to know in those quiet moments they'd had together was the real Harlan Jones.

She listened to her own heart, and heard a depth in there she'd never felt before. “I love you, too.” Then she smiled, and added, “Harlan.”

His answering grin nearly took her breath away. He leaned in and kissed her, a soft, sweet kiss that held promises of hundreds of wonderful tomorrows. “I'm glad to hear that, darlin',” he murmured against her mouth. “Damned glad.”