A Bride for a Blue-Ribbon Cowboy. Judy Duarte

to break out one of these days.”

      Blake thought people ought to be held accountable for their own foolish business ventures. “What kind of nut would listen to the advice of a fortune-teller they met at a carnival?”

      “Some folks don’t have the sense of a turkey gobbler,” Tuck said, as he scooted his chair away from the table, rubbed his belly and stood. “Well, I’m going to walk off my dinner, while I have a chat with Mary Ellen.”

      Blake and Cindy watched the old man head for the service porch, take his hat from the peg by the door and go outside, Shep trotting along after him.

      Cindy tore at the edge of the paper towel she’d used as a napkin and studied the closed back door. “It always makes me feel kind of sad when he does that. He sure must have loved my grandma something fierce.”

      Blake nodded. The old man probably did miss his wife. But as a teenager, Blake had followed Tuck enough times to believe his real reason for the after-dinner walk was because the canned beans he consumed at all three meals played havoc with his digestive system.

      But other than a crooked grin, Blake kept his thoughts to himself.

      “Hey.” Cindy elbowed him. “Let’s put the dishes in the sink and let them soak while we have a bowl of rocky road ice cream.”

      “Sure.” Blake never could turn down dessert, especially anything chocolate.

      A few minutes later, they carried their bowls and spoons out to the back porch, where they took a seat and enjoyed the night sounds of crickets chirping and bullfrogs croaking down by the creek. Cutter nickered in the corral.

      “It’s pretty tonight,” Cindy said as she studied the new moon that rested in a star-studded sky.

      “It sure is. I’ve missed the Tumbling T. It’s great to be home.”

      That was nice to know. Cindy liked the fact that Blake still considered the ranch his home, because the truth was, even if she couldn’t have him in a romantic sense, she appreciated his friendship. And right now, she looked forward to his expertise and getting his sage advice.

      Shoot, who else could coach her about romance? After all, he’d had more experience than men twice his age. At least, that’s what she’d always suspected.

      He’d had his pick of any of the girls at Sam Houston High. And from what she’d overheard, there’d been quite a few young ladies who’d been blessed with his kisses, if not a whole lot more.

      Cindy had always felt a stab of envy when she thought about the girls he’d dated back then. But that was because she hadn’t had to do anything more than look in the mirror or check inside her bra to see that she couldn’t compete—at least not that way—with any of them. And even though she filled her bra a little better these days, she still couldn’t compete with the cutesy women, many of whom still wore their blouses too small and their pants too tight.

      But all that was going to change, thanks to a new attitude and a tutor.

      Blake took a big spoonful of rocky road, obviously enjoying the taste. Then he slid her a probing look. “What’s so special about Robby Bradshaw?”

      Not a whole lot, she supposed. He was kind of sweet. And smart as all get-out. Of course, he was also the first guy who’d ever shown her any attention. Well, he was the first one whose attention actually interested her.

      “It’s kind of hard to explain,” she said.

      “Try me.”

      She thought for a moment, choosing her words. The fact was, until she and Robby actually got a chance to sit and talk, there wasn’t a whole lot she knew about him, other than he was nice and had always treated her with respect—and not just because she could outride or outrope him. “Robby is a business major, with a minor in accounting.”

      “And that’s his only appeal? Are you after him for the money he might make?”

      “No,” she snapped. “I never said I wanted to marry him. I just want to date him. And as far as I’m concerned, the fact that he’s making something out of himself is a good thing.”

      “Yeah. I guess so. But I don’t want you to settle for the first guy who comes along.”

      She blew out a sigh. “I’m not settling.”

      Of course, she wasn’t at all sure she was telling the truth. But she was ready to change the focus of their conversation. “So what about you? Surely there has to be a special lady in your life.”

      He shrugged. “I don’t know about that. Plenty of women chase after me—one in particular—but I’m not ready to get hitched. Not now. And maybe not ever.”

      That didn’t surprise her. He’d always had his pick of women. Why should he settle for just one?

      She wondered about the gals who chased after him now. They had to be gorgeous, no doubt, with breasts that bulged out of tiny lace bras, bare midriffs, short skirts and swivel-hipped walks. Women who’d breeze right past Cindy without even seeing her, she suspected.

      The girls he’d dated in high school had never given Cindy a howdy-do back then and still didn’t give her much more than that whenever she ran into them in town.

      But maybe, if Blake helped her with a makeover, they’d be friendlier and see her as an equal.

      But women weren’t her main concern.

      “I wish men found me more appealing,” she admitted.

      Of course, Blake was the one man she’d most like to have fall for her. But only a fool would bother drooling over the impossible, while the possible sat ready for the taking.

      Blake reached for her hand and gave it a squeeze. “Listen to me, Sprout. You’ve got a heart as big as Texas, and you’re loyal, too. A man would be lucky to have you in his life.”

      Deep in her Lone Star heart, she knew that. But getting a man to take that first look? Now that was the problem.

      He ran his knuckles along her cheek, causing her heart to thump and jump and do all kinds of crazy things. “I mean that, honey.”

      “Thanks.” A lump formed in her throat, and she had to blink back the tears. Darn him for being so sweet.

      “So tell me more about Robby.”

      Huh? How had Robby sidled into the conversation? “What about him?”

      “For starters, what does he look like?”

      She shrugged. He was about the same height as Blake—just under six feet. But he wasn’t nearly as solid. And he was pretty fair-complexioned. Of course, that was to be expected. Robby probably had to study day and night. When would he get a chance to go outdoors in the sunshine or work out?

      “I guess he’s kind of cute,” she said.

      “You guess?”

      She blew out a sigh. “He’s got blond hair and brown eyes. A nice smile.”

      “Is he good to you?”

      “Well darn it, Blake. How the heck am I supposed to know that? He’s so shy we’ve barely even talked.”

      “I’m not trying to give you a hard time.”

      She knew he wasn’t. But it just didn’t feel right talking about Robby in front of Blake. Not when simply sitting next to the good-looking cowboy made her want to compare the two.

      And poor Robby couldn’t hold a candle to Blake.

      Nope. It wasn’t right. If anyone understood how unfair comparisons felt, it was Cindy.

      “I’ll tell you what,” he said. “We’ll go into town tomorrow and stop at the Cut N Curl and the Mercantile. And before the sun sets, you’ll be a new woman.”

      Blake made it sound so easy, and she