The Nine-Month Bride. Judy Christenberry

me, girl. I love that boy, but I won’t tolerate him not treating you with respect.”

      Susannah chuckled. Abby’s normally serene eyes were agitated and her lips were pressed together. It would be fun to see her take on Lucas Boyd. But Susannah couldn’t lie. “He didn’t hurt me, Abby. It was a misunderstanding, and he came to offer his apology.”

      “An apology that made you cry?” she asked skeptically.

      “I—I felt sorry for him. It’s so sad that his wife and child died.”

      Abby didn’t look convinced but she didn’t ask any more questions. Unfortunately she turned to the one subject Susannah wanted to avoid more than Lucas Boyd. “What are you going to do about this baby thing?”

      “Exactly what I planned to do. I called the clinic in Denver and I have an appointment next Friday for my initial examination.”

      “You’re going to close the library?”

      Friday was their second busiest day, but Susannah didn’t want to postpone the appointment. “No, I’m hoping to talk you and another volunteer into covering for me. Would you, please, Abby? I don’t want to wait.”

      Since today was Friday, she already had to wait seven days. Seven long days. What if she discovered she couldn’t have children? Then she’d be just as bad off as Lucas Boyd.

      Stop thinking about that man.

      Easier said than done. He would be many a woman’s dream of Prince Charming. Prince Charming with an attitude. He was one of those men who thought women should be barefoot and pregnant.

      “I still think you could find a man around here interested in settling down if you’d just make a little more effort,” Abby insisted. “Are you coming tomorrow night?”

      “I don’t think so, Abby. I don’t know how to dance, and I won’t have time to bake something.”

      “I’ll bake double. You promised me you’d come to the next social.” Abby had the determined look of a dog after a bone. “It seems a fair trade for keeping the library open for you next Friday.”

      “That’s blackmail, Abigail!”

      “Yep. Well? Is it working?”

      She had promised. And she did need Abby’s help. “Yes, I suppose so. But I’ll do my own baking.”

      “Just as well. The only thing I ever bake is a pecan cake. If you brought one, everyone would know I made it. Then folks would think you couldn’t cook. Can’t catch a man that way!”

      “Abby! I’m coming to be sociable, not to find a man. I’ve already made my decision.” She stared at her friend, trying to make her position clear.

      Abby turned limpid hazel eyes on her and said with a sugary voice, “Why, of course, Susannah. Just what I had in mind.”

      Patting her gray hair, Abby slid off the stool behind the counter. “I’d better hurry home if I’m going to get my cake made tonight. Don’t you work late, either.”

      “No, I won’t.” She had too much to do, what with baking a dessert for the church social and preparing herself, mentally at least, for next Friday’s date.

      “Oh,” Abby said as she paused by the front door, “wear your prettiest dress, too.”

      “Abby!” Susannah warned, but her friend was out the door with a wave.

      Abby never gave up. At least she believed someday a man might be attracted to her friend. That was more than Susannah believed. But Abby’s faith was comforting.

      Lucas surveyed himself in the mirror. Since he’d made his decision, he’d spent more time looking at himself than he had in years.

      Was he dressed all right? His jeans were clean, his shirt pressed. The sports coat, kind of tweedy, still fit, though it wasn’t new. Beth had picked it out for him.

      He ran his fingers over its lapel, his mind turning once more to his wife. They’d only been married a little over a year. She had been ten years younger than he, just a kid, when he’d fallen for her. Her folks lived on a farm close to town. She’d loved the ranch, the big house, lots of money to spend.

      That was what he missed most. The way she’d enjoyed life. His dad had been sick the past two years, and Lucas had forgotten how to smile. When Beth came into his life, suddenly sunshine was everywhere.

      For the past three years, it felt as if he’d been living in a cave.

      Well, tonight was his coming out party. Doc had persuaded him to try his plan. Lucas still wasn’t convinced he could go through with it. But it did make sense.

      He turned away from the mirror. His looks didn’t matter. And neither did memories. He needed to be practical.

      When he entered the kitchen, Frankie was sweeping the room. “Did you fix a dish for me to take, Frankie?”

      “Yeah, boss, but you know you don’t have to take anything. It’s the womenfolk that bring the food.” While he spoke, Frankie’s gaze was running up and down him.

      “Is something wrong with the way I look?”

      “Naw. You look real purty!” Frankie assured him with a chuckle.

      “Watch it, you mangy coyote, or I’ll tell Mrs. Apple-worth that you’re longing for her company.”

      Frankie shivered with fear. Mrs. Appleworth, already having married five times, was known for her interest in cowboys. “That lady would have me hightailin’ it out of the county, boss. And then who would cook and clean for an ornery cuss like you?”

      “Okay, point taken. I’ll see you tomorrow,” he assured his cook and picked up the large bowl filled with potato salad. At least he’d gotten by Frankie without him commenting on his boss attending the party. Lucas hoped his entry would be noticed as little.

      He’d timed his arrival for after the party had gotten into full swing, figuring he’d slip into the room while no one was looking.

      Instead the music had just ended and suddenly it seemed everyone was staring at him. Then there was a concerted rush forward to greet him. Damn! You’d think he’d been in hibernation for a century.

      “Luke! Good to see you! Didn’t know you were venturing out,” one neighbor said. Another commented on the last time he’d seen him, then hastily broke off his words because it had been the occasion of Beth and the baby’s funeral.

      Someone else hurriedly asked about a problem on the ranch. One of the ladies took his bowl from him with a gracious smile, and then Doc took him by the arm and drew him into the big room.

      He wanted to run the other way. Small talk was beyond him tonight. He had too much on his mind. Doc seemed to realize how he felt.

      “You did fine, boy. First step’s the hardest. She’s already here, and lookin’ real nice. See her? On the other side of the room with Abby.”

      He saw her. Susannah Langston did look nice. She wore a blouse that fitted her curves, surprising him, and a full skirt. And he’d been wrong. She didn’t have fat ankles.

      The music started up again.

      “Go ask her to dance,” Doc urged in a whisper.

      “I just got here, Doc.”

      “Never mind. It’s too late now.”

      His head whipped around and he stared at the cowboy who was leading the librarian onto the floor. Max Daingerfield. He was a wiry cowboy from north of town who considered himself to be the life of the party. Sometimes he was a little too lively for the other guests.

      Lucas clenched his teeth as he watched the man’s arm snake around Susannah’s waist and haul her up against him. Then he relaxed with a smile as the lady removed the cowboy’s hand from her hip, took a step away from him