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Lorelei’s dark eyes shimmered with unshed tears. “Usually, I’m great with details, but I’m turning into an emotional basket case. I miss Mom.”
The one-year anniversary of Wanda Keller’s death was only a couple of weeks away; as much as Tess’s own family drove her nuts, she couldn’t imagine getting married without either of her parents being alive to see it. “Wanda would have been so happy for you,” Tess said. “You know how she adored Sam.”
Lorelei nodded. “We’ve been trying to decide how to honor her during the ceremony. One of her friends suggested I wear Mom’s ‘lucky pig’ jewelry, but I’m not sold on the idea.”
Tess chuckled at the mental image of whimsical pigs paired with her friend’s simple strapless gown. “Don’t worry, you still have a month to brainstorm.”
The two women joined the boutique manager, who led them to luxurious changing rooms for their fittings. Of all the bridesmaid dresses Tess had worn so far, the deep red gown Lorelei had picked was her favorite. There was something about the cut that made Tess feel taller (she’d always been dwarfed by her lithe mother and sister) and the cleavage revealed by the scooped neckline was flattering. She looked curvy rather than chubby. Tess wasn’t exactly overweight—not by more than five or ten pounds—but she was by far the most solidly built of the Fitzpatrick women.
Slender Lorelei was even taller than Tess’s sister. Tess dreaded the wedding photos of the bride and maid of honor alone. Vera Wang Meets Abbott and Costello. Maybe Tess could lose a few pounds before the ceremony. And wear very high heels.
Through the partition separating them, she called to Lorelei, “You have a great eye for color.” Conventional wisdom suggested the red might clash with Tess’s hair, but the color was so dark it somehow toned down her curls, making them appear more burnished-gold than orange. “This dress is terrific.”
A few minutes later, Tess breathed, “I stand corrected. That dress is terrific.” Lorelei stood on a dais while the seamstress checked her hem. The bride-to-be looked phenomenal, her dark hair and eyes a dramatic contrast to the beaded white dress. “Sam is one lucky guy.”
Lorelei grinned wryly. “Yeah, if you overlook the fact that he’s saddling himself with an increasingly unstable woman and her demon cat.” There had been jokes about putting a little pouch around Oberon’s feline neck and letting him be the ring bearer, but Sam had insisted the temperamental pet would get revenge.
After they’d changed back into their regular clothes, Tess invited her friend to lunch. “I’m craving The Twisted Jalapeño. Wanna join me?”
“I never pass up an opportunity to eat Grace’s food! And the menu’s gotten even more amazing since she partnered with that hunky co-owner. Should I follow you, or do you want to ride together?”
They decided it would be more fun to go in the same car and come back for Lorelei’s. As Tess drove, they discussed business at the ballet studio, recent movies and Valentine’s Day being only a few weeks away. Since their romantic B and B was a popular destination for lovers, Lorelei and Sam would be working over the holiday but planned to make up the time over their honeymoon. For her part, Tess figured she’d stick with the tradition of attending the big town Valentine dance.
Discussing the romantic holiday made Tess think of Nick and his yearning expression yesterday evening. “Hey, Lor, wouldn’t you say Nick Calhoun is attractive?”
Lorelei looked at her blankly from the passenger seat. “Who?”
“I forgot, the only man you ever notice is the one you’re engaged to,” Tess teased. “He’s the youngest of the three Calhoun brothers. You know, the family who owns the Galloping C Ranch?”
“Oh, right. Sam’s done some work for them.” Lorelei straightened in her seat. “Wait, are you asking because you’re attracted to Nick? Even though we’re keeping the guest list small, you can still bring a ‘plus one’ to the wedding.”
“I’m not asking for me. I just meant...in general.” If gorgeous Lorelei saw his appeal, perhaps it wouldn’t be far-fetched that Farrah could appreciate him, too.
“’In general?’” Lorelei sounded baffled. But she pursed her lips and considered the question.
“He’s the brother with darker hair,” Tess supplied helpfully. Wyatt and Kevin both had sandy-brown hair, just a few shades past blond. The color of Nick’s hair was richer, as dark as undiluted coffee.
“I think I remember Nick now. He’s the short one, right?”
“He’s six feet! Maybe he’s not as tall as his brothers, but we can’t all be Amazons.” Tess stopped, chagrined by how defensive she sounded. “Sorry. Personal hot button.”
People rarely realized how tall Nick was because he was so often in the company of his brothers and father. Plus, he’d grown up with a tendency to shrink into himself when embarrassed. Back in elementary school, where he’d only been a grade ahead of Tess, he’d slouched when other kids made fun of his stutter.
But he’d grown into perfect articulation and a deep voice with a pleasant hint of raspiness. What Nick needed—and Farrah, too, for that matter—was a wake-up call. The six-foot cowboy bore no resemblance to the awkward, stammering boy he’d once been.
Tess drummed her fingers on the steering wheel. All he needed was a blast of confidence. And possibly a haircut.
“Uh-oh,” Lorelei said suddenly.
Tess blinked. “What? What is it?”
“You have That Look. You’re planning on interfering with some unsuspecting citizen’s life, aren’t you? That’s the same look you got when you decided enough was enough and gave Asha Macpherson a piece of your mind about the way she talks to her daughter in public.”
“Someone needed to! All that ‘constructive criticism’ was humiliating the hell out of Juliet. Far as I can tell, my chat worked. No one’s seen Juliet break down and cry lately. They were at the movies last Saturday and looked like they were having a very nice mother-daughter outing.”
“And of course,” Lorelei continued, “you used to get that same gleam in your eye when you harangued me about seducing Sam.”
“Which, you must admit, worked out pretty well,” Tess said with a grin.
“No complaints here. Actually, I admire your instincts. I’m great at understanding numbers, but your gift is people.”
One could only hope Nick would be as admiring of Tess’s gift. Because her friend was right—Tess had officially decided to interfere.
Chapter Two
Though it was barely noon, Nick felt as if he’d already put in a full day’s work. Since his mom had taken Bailey to visit relatives in San Antonio, he was making the most of a free Saturday. He and ranch hand Tim Mullins were trying to catch up on routine maintenance before the busy spring season. Now they could cross “Replace cracked tractor seat” off the to-do list.
Handing the wrench back to Tim, a Texas A&M graduate the Calhouns had hired two years ago, Nick got to his feet. He dusted his hands across his faded jeans. “Everything else I plan to accomplish requires a trip into town for supplies. Want to come with me, maybe grab some lunch after I clean up?”
Tim’s grin flashed white against his dark skin. “See, that’s what you need to do.”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“You, casually inviting someone to join you for a meal. And by someone, I mean Farrah Landon.”
“I rescind the invitation,” Nick grumbled. “I’ll just run to town by myself.”
Tim fell into step with him, undeterred
. “I realize your ex was before my time—maybe if I’d met her, I’d get why you’re still hung up—but don’t you think it’s time to move on?”
“You think I still have feelings for Marla?” Nick asked in disbelief. His wife had left him four years ago for a wealthy real-estate developer in Galveston. She rarely crossed Nick’s mind unless Bailey mentioned her.
“Um...I may have heard it somewhere.”
Mom. It was the responsibility of Nick’s dad to worry about the horses and land; it was the responsibility of Erin Calhoun to fret over their sons. She’d always been extraprotective of her youngest.
“Trust me, Marla is ancient history,” Nick said. “I’m better off without her.”
“So why don’t you date? In all the time I’ve known you, I can count on one hand—”
“I’m a single dad,” Nick interrupted, feeling a little guilty for playing the Bailey card. It was true she kept him busy and also true that his being a father added pressure to potential relationships. But there were other issues, too. Half the women in his social circle had known him as a stuttering adolescent, the other half were busy drooling over his brothers. The easiest time he’d ever had talking to members of the opposite sex had been away at college, where he’d met Marla.
“Doesn’t Farrah have a kid?” Tim countered.
“Two,” Nick admitted. “One Bay’s age and one a few years older.”
“Then she’d probably consider your parenting experience a good thing. C’mon, I’ve noticed you noticing her.”
