Texas Brides: The Rancher and the Runaway Bride & The Bluest Eyes in Texas

Tate was tapping her foot to another two-step tune and enjoying watching the couples maneuver around the dance floor when she thought she saw someone she recognized. She followed the couple until they turned at the corner of the room.

Tate gasped aloud. It was Adam! He was dancing the two-step with a buxom redheaded woman.

As he passed by her table, Adam smiled and called out, “Hi, there! Having fun?”

Before she could answer, they had danced on past her, and she was left with the trill of the woman’s laughter in her ears.

Tate felt sick. Who was she? The Redheaded Woman in Adam’s arms was absolutely beautiful. No wonder Adam hadn’t been interested in pursuing her when he was acquainted with such a gorgeous female.

“What’s caught your eye?” Buck asked as he set a soda in front of Tate.

“Adam’s here.” She pointed him out. “See there. With that redhead.”

To Tate’s amazement, Buck scowled and swore under his breath.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

“Nothing I can do anything about.”

“That’s the sort of statement that’s guaranteed to get a nosy female’s attention,” Tate said. “Out with it.”

Buck grinned sheepishly and admitted, “All right. Here goes.” He took a deep breath and said, “That woman dancing with Adam is my ex-wife.”

“You’re kidding!”

“’Fraid not.”

Tate watched Buck watching the Redheaded Woman. His feelings were painfully transparent. “You’re still in love with her.”

Buck grimaced. “Much good it’ll do me.”

“I assume Adam knows how you feel.”

“He asked my permission before he took Velma out the first time.”

“And you gave it to him?” Tate asked incredulously.

“She isn’t my wife anymore. She can see whoever she pleases.”

Tate snorted in disgust. “While you suffer in noble silence. Men!”

Tate had been so involved with talking to Buck that she hadn’t realized the song was ending. She was less than pleased when Adam and Velma arrived at their table.

“Mind if we join you?” Adam asked.

Tate bit her lip to keep from saying something censorable. She slipped her arm through Buck’s, put a gigantic smile on her face, and said, “Why sure! We’d love to have the company, wouldn’t we, Buck?”

It was hard to say who was the more surprised by her performance, Buck or Adam. What she hadn’t expected was the militant light that rose in Velma’s green eyes when Tate claimed Buck’s arm. Well, well, well. Maybe there was more here than met the eye.

Adam made introductions, then seated Velma and caught one of the few waitresses long enough to ask for two drinks.

“I didn’t expect to see you here,” Tate said to Adam.

“I enjoy dancing, and Velma’s a great partner.”

Tate could imagine what else Velma was great at. She had observed for herself that the redhead had a wonderful sense of rhythm.

Tate was aware of Buck sitting stiffly beside her, quieter than he had been at any time during the evening. How could Adam not be sensitive to the vibrations that arced across the table between the cowboy and his ex-wife?

In fact, Adam was eminently aware of how much Buck Magnesson still loved his ex-wife. It was why he had brought Velma here this evening. Adam knew that with Velma in the room, Buck wasn’t liable to spend much time thinking about Tate.

There was more than one way to skin a cat, Adam thought with satisfaction. He had known Tate would rebel against an ultimatum, so he hadn’t protested her date with Buck. He had simply sought out a more subtle way to get what he wanted.

Bringing Velma to the dance seemed like the answer to his problem. He was pretty sure Velma was as much in love with Buck as the cowboy was with his ex-wife. He didn’t mind playing Cupid, especially if it meant separating Tate from the virile young cowboy.

“How about trading partners?” Adam said, rising from his chair and reaching for Tate’s hand.

Before Tate could protest, Buck said, “That sounds fine to me,” took Velma by the hand and headed for the dance floor.

Tate wasn’t sure what to make of Adam’s ploy. She waited until they were half a dance floor away from the other couple before she said, “That was a pretty sneaky thing to do.”

“I wanted to dance with you.”

“Are you sure you aren’t matchmaking?”

Adam smiled. “You could feel it, too?”

“I think he might still love her.”

“I’m sure he does.”

“Then why did you bring Velma here tonight?”

“I would think that’s obvious.”

“Not to me.”

“I enjoy her company.”

“Oh.”

He grinned. “And I knew Buck would be here with you.”

He sent her into a series of spins that prevented her from making any kind of retort. By the time she was in his arms again the song was over and he was ushering her back toward their table, where Buck and Velma were sitting across from each other arguing vociferously.

“Buck?” Tate didn’t want to interrupt, but she wasn’t sure whether she should leave him alone with Velma, either.

“Let’s get out of here,” Buck said, jumping up and turning his back on Velma. “Good night, Adam. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

As Buck hurried Tate away, she heard Velma say, “I’d like to go home now, Adam. If that’s all right with you?”

Tate wasn’t sure where Buck was taking her when he burned rubber on the asphalt parking lot. It was a safe guess from the dark look on his face that he had no romantic intentions toward her.

“Want to talk about it?” she asked at last.

Buck glanced quickly at her, then turned his eyes back to the road. “I don’t want to bother you with my problems.”

“I’m a good listener.”

He sighed and said, “Velma and I were high school sweethearts. We married as soon as we graduated. Pretty soon Velma began to think she had missed something. She had an affair.”

Tate bit her lip to keep from saying something judgmental. She was glad she had when Buck continued.

“I found out about it and confronted her. She asked for a divorce, and I gave it to her.”

“Why?”

“Pride. Foolish damn pride!”

“And you regret it now?”

“My life’s been running kind of muddy without her.”

“So why don’t you do something about it?” Tate asked.

“It’s no use. She says that I deserve better. She doesn’t believe I can ever forgive or forget what she did.”

“Can you?”

The cowboy’s eyes were bleak in the light from the dash. “I think so.”

“But you’re not sure?”

A muscle worked in his jaw. “If I were, I’d have her back home and under me faster than chain lightning with a link snapped!”

Tate had thought they were driving without direction, yet she realized suddenly that they had arrived back at the front door of Adam’s house. She saw Adam’s truck parked there. So, he was home. And there was a light on in the living room.

She let herself out of the truck, but Buck met her on the front porch. He put an arm around her waist and walked her away from the light.

“May I kiss you good-night, Tate?”

Tate drew a breath and held it. This was so exactly like the scene she had played out the night she had left home that it was eerie. Only there were no brothers here to protect her from the big, bad wolf.

“Of course you can kiss me good-night,” she said at last.

Buck took his time, and Tate was aware of the sweetness of his kiss. And the reluctance in it. When he lifted his head their eyes met, and they smiled at each other.

“No go, huh?” he said.

Tate shook her head. “I like you an awful lot, Buck. I hope we can be friends.”

“I’d like that,” the cowboy said.

He leaned down and kissed her again. Both of them knew how much—and how little—it meant.

However, it was not so clear to the man watching them through a slit in the living room curtains.

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