Honorable Rancher. Barbara Daille White

respected her year and more of mourning, but with the folks of Flagman’s Folly, tradition was practically the law. And between them, Ellamae and the judge were the law in town.

      “Time you got back into the swing of things,” Ellamae said.

      Trust her to speak her mind. She now shooed Dana into the crowd with as much enthusiasm as little Becky Robertson shooed her chickens into their new coop.

      Giving up, Dana joined the women surging toward the dance floor. Laughter broke out from behind her, and she looked back.

      Ellamae stood waving a well-used baseball catcher’s mitt. She hurried to Dana’s side. “C’mon, girl, let’s move it. I got done out of catching the bouquet at Sam Robertson’s wedding, but I’m not missing a chance at this one.”

      Almost the same words Dana had used to escape from Ben. Time to make good on her excuse. Refusing to look for him, she took her spot with the women. From the middle of the crowd, Lissa and Nate turned, grinning, to wave at her. She waved back.

      Ellamae nudged her, making elbow room.

      Dana laughed and edged a few steps away. Though she stayed on the fringes, she held her hands up as everyone else did and matched their wide smiles.

      The bride listened to her guests, all telling her how and when and where to toss her bouquet. Dana knew each woman in the group hoped to become the lucky winner—especially Ellamae, who stood waving her mitt-clad hand above her head.

      Good luck to her. And to anyone else on that dance floor.

      As long as she stayed behind all the other women, the bouquet shouldn’t come anywhere near her. Just the idea that she might win the toss made her heart thud painfully.

      Unable to stop herself, she glanced across the room. Ben stood near the French doors, gazing at her, and she hurriedly turned away. Knowing he watched only made things worse.

      The sigh she swallowed bordered on a sob. Of all the folks in town who worried her, good old Ben topped the list. Not only because he kept offering to help her.

      But because he would be the person most hurt by the secrets she kept.

      “Everybody set?” Tess called.

      The crowd murmured in anticipation, and Dana forced herself to focus. If she didn’t, it would be just her luck not to realize the bouquet had come right at her until too late—after her reflexes had kicked in and she had caught it.

      Tess swung her arm as if winding up for a baseball pitch, then let the flower arrangement fly. It skimmed the fingertips of one woman after another, bouncing its way across the crowd.

      To the amusement of everyone in the hall, Ellamae made a valiant effort to snag the bouquet in midair. The cumbersome baseball mitt let her down. The flowers slipped from her grasp, tumbled in Dana’s direction, bounced off her shoulder, and landed in the arms of five-year-old Becky Robertson, who squealed. Jaw dropped and eyes wide, she looked up at Dana.

      Sam’s little girl was deaf. Glad his wife had taught folks some sign language, Dana fluttered her hands in the air, using the gesture for applause. Hearing Becky’s high-pitched laugh made her smile. Dana held her right hand palm turned inward a couple of inches from her own face. Tilting her hand, she pulled all her fingertips together. “Pretty.”

      Clutching the bouquet, Becky nodded energetically, then ran toward her daddy, who waited at the edge of the dance floor.

      “There goes one happy young’un,” Ellamae said, shaking her head. “Well, after seeing that smile, guess I can’t begrudge the girl. Better luck next time for the rest of us.”

      Not for me, Dana thought with relief as the other women drifted away and Ellamae stomped off in a pretend sulk. Her good fortune had come from not getting stuck with that bouquet.

      Then she made the mistake of looking at Ben. No smiles there. No luck for her, either. He had started across the room toward her.

      Chapter Two

      Had Ben read her thoughts in her face from all the way across the room? Had everyone in the entire banquet hall noticed her relief at not catching the bouquet?

      Casually, she hoped, Dana glanced away from Ben at the tables clustered around the dance floor. No one seemed to pay any special attention to her—except the bride, who marched up, shaking her head. “What in the world do you call that attempt? You didn’t even try to catch it.”

      “I most certainly did. Ellamae made me nervous.”

      “Yeah, I’ll bet.” Tess frowned. “Are you having a good time?”

      “Of course.”

      “I wonder. I wish we could have matched you up with a more eligible partner.”

      “Don’t be silly. Sam and I are perfectly happy to act as a couple for the day.”

      Tess laughed. “You know, Caleb planned to ask him to stand up for him anyhow, but Sam beat him to it. He insisted Caleb choose him. Since he’d just gotten married, Sam claimed he would be the best best man Caleb could ever find.”

      No, he wouldn’t. Dana had to bite her tongue to keep the words from spilling out. Of all the males in the room, Ben Sawyer would make the best man. He’d proven that ever since her own wedding. And in all the years before it.

      He’d always been there for her, had always played such a big role in her life. Right now, though, she felt sure he planned to steal the show. Or at least, to make a scene. One she didn’t want Tess to witness.

      “Speaking of Caleb,” she said quickly, “he’s trying to get your attention.” She gestured toward Tess’s new husband, who had pulled a chair into the middle of the dance floor.

      Tess gave an exaggerated groan. “Oh, no. It’s garter time.” She murmured, “Tradition is all well and good, but we have to draw the line somewhere. I’ve got the garter around my ankle.” She grinned. “I hope he’s not too disappointed.”

      Dana forced a laugh. “You have no worries there.” The band played a few bouncy chords. Copying Ellamae, she made shooing motions toward Tess. “Go on. Everyone’s waiting.”

      Single males, including Ben, flowed onto the dance floor. But as Tess returned to the front of the hall, he broke from the group and veered toward Dana.

      “Did Tess tell you what she thought about your pathetic try at that bouquet?” he asked.

      She exhaled in exasperation. They certainly had an audience now. She caught several people watching them, including Judge Baylor, who had taken pride of place in the center of the floor.

      If she had to, she would smile until her cheeks hurt. But she wouldn’t take a lecture from Ben. “Yes, Tess gave me her feedback. So I won’t need any from you. Thanks, anyway.”

      “But I had my entire speech planned.”

      She laughed. “Save it for someone else. And for your information, as I told Tess, Ellamae made me back off.”

      His brows rose. “That’s a switch.” He smiled as if to soften his words. “I thought you could handle anyone who got in your way.”

      “Anyone but you, Ben,” she muttered after he’d left to rejoin the other men.

      At the front of the room, teasing his blushing bride, the groom tugged at the hem of her gown. As the other wedding guests cheered him on, Dana’s mind wandered—directly to the dark-haired man whose shoulders strained the fabric of his well-cut tuxedo.

      After Paul’s death, Ben had offered to do anything he could to make things easier for her. His attention smothered her. His kindhearted attempts to help threatened to do even more. To make her needy and dependent and weak.

      She couldn’t let that happen. Not after all the years she’d heard those words from another man—the one she had mistakenly married. Paul had forced