Clayton's Made-Over Mrs.. Sandra Steffen

ached with shimmery emotions and dusky yearnings and hidden dreams.

      Cletus muttered something under his breath and shook his head. “Don’t take it to heart, girl. I’m sure nothing will come of that. One of these days Clayt Carson’s gonna wise up and figure out that he couldn’t do any better than you. Nobody could. Maybe it would help if you were a little nicer to him. A person catches a lot more bees with honey, you know.”

      Mel released a huge sigh and shook her head. She’d been doing that a lot since Clayt had sort of asked her to marry him. She’d stood in front of her mirror for a long time Friday night. She was twenty-nine years old, and she admitted that she was a little on the scrawny side. But her legs were thin and muscular, and although she wasn’t exactly well endowed in the chest department, she thought her breasts were, well, nice, maybe even pretty in a pert, cute sort of way.

      Casting another glance at the cleavage visible above the low neckline of Brandy Schafer’s shirt, Mel cringed. Puppies were cute. So were kittens and bunnies and newly hatched chicks. But as far as breasts were concerned, it seemed that men preferred them in larger, more lush sizes. Cute breasts evidently ranked right up there with marriage proposals that included the words sort of.

      Smoothing her thumb over the strands of hair secured in a heavy braid over her shoulder, she glanced up at her grandfather. Something had been bothering her ever since she’d stormed out of her own diner Friday night She’d been hiding her feelings from Clayt for years. Yet he’d acted as if she should fall at his feet at her first opportunity to marry him. It didn’t make sense. Neither did the fact that her grandfather seemed to know about her crush, too.

      “Would you tell me something, Granddad?”

      Cletus raised his bushy white eyebrows. “I’ll do my level best, girl.”

      Checking to make sure nobody was within hearing distance, she whispered, “What makes you think I have tender feelings for Clayt?”

      Cletus shifted from one foot to the other the way he always did when he was discarding answers faster than he could come up with them. Inching closer, he said, “I’ve known for years.”

      “You have?”

      The nod of his head was more serious than Mel would have liked. “Now might not be the time to break this to you, but everybody knows.”

      Her hand flew to her throat. “That’s impossible. I’ve never told a soul.”

      “When has that ever had anything to do with anything in Jasper Gulch? Would you looky there? Doc Masey’s motioning for me to join him behind the shed for a nice fat cigar.”

      “Granddad.”

      He turned around again on bowed legs, although he could have pretended he hadn’t heard.

      “Everybody knows?” she mouthed.

      Pulling at his suspenders, he said, “If you don’t believe me, ask around.” Without another word he headed for a group of his buddies who were waiting near the shed.

      Mel stared after him, shaken. If everybody knew about her foolish heart’s stupid infatuation with that ignoramus Clayt Carson, she’d never be able to hold her head high in the diner again. How could they have possibly known? She and Clayt were rarely civil to each other, let alone nice.

      Why, then, had her grandfather said that everybody in town knew about her feelings? Cletus McCully was a wonderful man. He’d taken her and Wyatt in after their parents had drowned in the Bad River when she was six, and she loved him to pieces. The man would lay down his life for her and Wyatt, but Mel happened to know that he wasn’t above bending the truth every now and then. He had to be mistaken about this. Still, he’d told her to ask around. Spying Jillian Daniels, one of the brides to be, Mel knew exactly where to begin.

      

      “A double wedding. Isn’t that, like, the most romantic thing you’ve ever heard of? And look at Lisa’s dress. Isn’t it, like, the most gorgeous dress you’ve ever seen?”

      Clayt was doing his best to follow Brandy Schafer’s conversation. But it wasn’t easy. At first he’d blamed it on the upper swells of her breasts she was so intent upon showing him. Now he realized there was more to his distraction than her young, nubile body. Truth was, she was boring him to death.

      “I mean, I adore that color of blue, and I love the way the material practically skims her ankles. If Lisa’s going to carry that style of dress in her shop I’m absolutely positive the Jasper Gulch Clothing Store is going to be a success. Oh, I hope she does. I’m so sick of Western skirts and blouses…”

      Idly, Clayt wondered how much longer the girl could keep talking without coming up for air. A movement out of the corner of his eye caught his attention. He didn’t have to turn his head to know it was Mel McCully. He would recognize her slender build and dark blond hair anywhere. She was one gal who’d never bored him with useless prattle. Mel wasn’t like other women. That’s what he liked about her. He was all set to flash her his famous grin, but she walked right on by without a backward glance, and he ended up shaking his head instead.

      So, good old Mel was holding a grudge. He wasn’t surprised. She was more ornery and obstinate than any woman he’d ever known—including Victoria. Only Mel wasn’t nearly as mean. Clayt didn’t like thinking about Victoria. It reminded him of too many mistakes, of too many things he couldn’t change. He’d married young. And he’d married wrong. He was thirty-six years old now. The next time he got married he’d like to do it right. Maybe not for love, but at least for the good of Haley.

      He nodded at whatever in Sam Hill Brandy was talking about now. Mentally he checked her off his list. She was built nicely, but criminy, any woman who was going to stay a step ahead of Haley had to have a little more between her ears.

      A new woman named Brittany Matthews had moved to town a couple of weeks ago. She’d pretty much kept to herself since her arrival, but Clayt had heard that she and her five-year-old daughter had come all the way from New Jersey. Old Mertyl Gentry had her cornered over by the food table right now. As soon as he could get a word in edgewise with Brandy, he’d mosey on over and introduce himself. Brittany. Now that was a real pretty name.

       Chapter Two

       Brittany. Brittany. Brittany.

      It was all Mel had heard all day at the diner.

      She placed the half-full tray of dishes on a table and headed for the front, where the Anderson brothers were waiting, money in hand. She smiled at Lisa, Jillian and DoraLee Sullivan on her way by, nodded at Brittany Matthews and stuck her nose in the air as she passed Clayt.

      “Everything all right, boys?” she asked when she reached the register.

      Neil Anderson nodded, but Mel had her doubts that he’d actually heard her question. He was too busy talking about the same thing everybody else was talking about.

      “Brittany,” he repeated quietly to one of his brothers. “The name has a nice ring to it, don’t it?”

      “Sure does,” Ned declared. “I don’t think Clayt’s taken his eyes off her since they sat down in that booth, do you?”

      “Nope,” Norbert agreed. “And I can see why.”

      Ned nodded. “She’s easy on the eyes, that’s for sure. I’m not usually partial to short hair, but I’m making an exception for her. What do you think, Mel?”

      Mel thought she felt a headache coming on. A glance at Clayt and Brittany made her sure of it. There wasn’t really anything wrong with Brittany Matthews. She wasn’t much taller than Mel, but the boys were right. Her brown eyes were friendly, and Mel could see how a man might find her dark, wispy hair the tiniest bit enticing. Clayt must have thought so, too, because he reached across the table and brushed