Lone Star Bride

“How sad for you.” Ruby offered Mariah another cookie, which she refused with a shake of her head.

“Oh, I managed all right, thanks to social services and my mother’s friends. I even lived in some wonderfully stable foster homes...quite a change from living with a woman who always followed her heart.” Mariah rested her forehead in her hands and stared at the tabletop. “You can’t imagine how many wannabe musicians she brought home and fed. Then there were the sidewalk artists, the bartenders, the jazz singers...” She laughed without humor. “She just couldn’t resist the stranger in town. You’d think I’d learn from her mistakes, wouldn’t you? Well, I finally did, but not before I took in a couple of deadbeats of my own. And you wonder why I didn’t like Tony Mason.”

“But he seemed so nice,” murmured Ruby, frowning. “Not like a deadbeat at all.”

“Believe me,” retorted Mariah, “If I was the least bit attracted to him, he’s not a nice young man.”

“Are you saying you only go for guys who are bad for you?” Ruby asked. She leaned forward in her eagerness for the truth, and now had to rescue the ruffle on her dress from her teacup.

Mariah grabbed up a napkin and began to dab at the pastel floral fabric. “That’s exactly what I’m saying. It’s a genetic flaw, passed down from my mother and the reason I only date guys I don’t go for—that is, men who’ll make rock-solid husbands.”

“Well, that’s a relief,” said Ruby, rising to set her glass in the sink. “Opal and I have wondered what on earth you see in Willard Reynolds.” She referred to the superintendent of schools in Pleasant Rest, a fifty-year-old with several college degrees and a mother who wouldn’t cut the apron strings.

“Absolutely nothing,” Mariah told them with a laugh. She tossed down her napkin and rose to set her own glass in the sink. “I do admire his house and his job, though.” She gave them both a long look. “I guess I must sound awfully mercenary to you.”

“Actually you sound sensible...way too sensible.” Opal joined them at the sink and, after getting rid of her glass, framed Mariah’s face in her hands. “I want more than anything for you to be happy. I don’t think you ever will be if you marry a man for what he isn’t.”

“Or what he has,” added Ruby, her expression showing concern.

“I’m doing what I have to do to stay on the straight and narrow,” answered Mariah, taking Opal’s hands in hers. She squeezed, then released them. “I know where I’ve gone wrong in my life and don’t intend to make the same mistakes again. Most important, I’m happy.”

“Are you, Mariah? Are you really?” Ruby put her arm around Mariah and leaned close to hear the reply.

“I’m ecstatic,” Mariah assured her friend, a half truth. Of late the days had begun to drag and adventure to call...undoubtedly the reason she tried to drive past Tony that afternoon. She knew instinctively that he personified all that she’d left behind, all that she secretly missed.

And all that she should not, could not, would not let herself have again.

“You were really attracted to Tony?”

Opal’s question made Mariah frown. “He’s a very good-looking guy,” she said, hedging.

“And you were really attracted to him?”

“I only talked to the man for a second.”

“But were you attracted to him?”

“Yes!” Mariah almost screamed the admission, then felt bad for doing it. “And don’t you understand how that tells me he’s bad?”

Opal and Ruby exchanged decidedly worried glances before Ruby spoke. “I think you’re wrong about Tony, and I’m certain time would prove me right. But never mind that. I’m wondering what will happen if you’re someday attracted to someone simply because he’s the man of your dreams.”

Mariah bubbled with laughter. “I admit that the books I read are full of that kind of stuff, but there’s no such thing in real life.”

“Oh, but you’re wrong,” protested Opal, clearly appalled by Mariah’s pragmatism—at least from the twins’ point of view.

“And you call me a romantic?” Mariah laughed again. “Look ladies, I know exactly what I want in a man— family ties, a heart of gold and a steady job. Simple. And no other man is worth risking my hard-won independence. Now, I think I’ve explained myself very well, don’t you?”

“You have, indeed,” Ruby answered with another worried look at her sister.

“And we’re all clear on this?”

“We are.”

Affection for the two of them suddenly softened Mariah’s heart. “Please don’t worry about me or try to change my mind.”

“Okay,” replied Ruby, “but only if you’ll promise us that you won’t marry Willard Reynolds.”

That wasn’t hard to do, since he wasn’t in the market for a wife, dam him. “I promise. There, feel better?”

“Absolutely!” both women exclaimed in unison, at which all three burst into laughter.

Their good moods prevailed right through a light dinner consisting of salads and buttered homemade bread, eaten in front of the television a couple of hours later. After the meal Mariah returned to the kitchen to wash up their few dishes. Just as she finished her task, Opal entered the room through the swing door, which creaked loudly, reminding Mariah the hinges needed a drop of oil.

She immediately dug around for the oil can in the storage area under the sink. Opal hovered nearby, clearly thoughtful. When Mariah found the can, she walked to the door and began to work on the bottom hinge. Opal followed but said nothing, though she obviously had something on her mind.

Finally Mariah prompted her to speak with a soft “What’s up?”

“Ruby and I have been talking,” Opal began, her blue eyes misty with emotion, “and we’re sure we could find you a suitable husband...that is, if you’d let us—only because you don’t trust your own judgment.”

“And I suppose Tony Mason would be a candidate?” Mariah answered, pausing in her work.

“We are positive you’re wrong about him,” Opal admitted.

“Hmm. Well, I appreciate the offer, but I prefer to find my own man.”

“I was afraid you’d say that.” Opal sounded so distressed that Mariah impulsively wrapped her arms around the woman and gently patted her back.

In the distance the doorbell rang.

“I’ll get it!” Ruby called from the living room.

Mariah released Opal. “I know you two mean well, but I really don’t want you to set me up with anyone.” Turning to the door once again, oil can in hand, she squatted down to work on the lower hinge. Most of her attention stayed on Opal, however, instead of on her task. “So please promise you’ll never play matchmaker, okay?”

“Okay,” Opal answered with a sigh and a glance toward the living room. “I promise I won’t, but I’m not so sure you’ll be able to talk Ruby out of it....”

At that moment the kitchen door swung inward, knocking Mariah onto her butt on the linoleum floor. Into the room stepped Ruby with none other than Tony Mason right behind her, a duffle bag slung over his shoulder.

“Oops, sorry, dear,” Ruby murmured as Tony extended a hand to help Mariah up.

She hesitated, but short of being rude to the man, who’d really been nothing but polite so far, couldn’t refuse his assistance. She gave him her hand. He tugged her to her feet at once.

“Thanks,” Mariah said, swiping that hand down her jeans the moment he released it. She turned expectantly toward Ruby, who looked as smug as a shopper with a fifty-percent-off bargain.

“Micah towed Tony’s rig into town,” Ruby explained in a rush of words. “But he’s going to have to order a part for the truck before he can repair it.”

“Oh, dear,” Opal murmured. “How long will that take?”

“He might have it by tomorrow afternoon, if be can place the order tonight,” Tony told her. “Otherwise it will be Wednesday.”

Opal sighed her sympathy. “That’s too bad.”

“Not for us,” Ruby interjected, positively beaming. “Since there’s no motel, Micah sent him over to see if we’d rent one of the spare rooms. I told him we’d be glad to, of course.” She clasped her hands and gave Opal a huge smile. “What do you think about the one next to Mariah’s?”

Chapter Two

An awkward silence followed Ruby Smythe’s question. Tony Mason felt the tension in the room and looked from Ruby’s sister, Opal, to Mariah, waiting for someone—anyone—to speak.

Finally Opal, looking decidedly uneasy, did. “That room should be fine.”

“Good...good.” Ruby turned to Tony. “Get your bag, then we’ll let Mariah take you upstairs.” The petite senior citizen, who reminded him of one of his many elderly aunts, smiled sweetly. “Opal and I have bedrooms on this floor. Those steps get harder for us to climb every year.”

“I don’t know,” Tony answered. “You look pretty spry to me. In fact, I’ll bet you could outdance any of the sweet young things in the Southern Revue at the Abilene carnival earlier this year.”

“Southern Revue?” echoed Ruby.

“You know,” Tony teased. “The traveling dance show.”

Ruby gasped, then bubbled with laughter. “For shame! My papa would’ve tanned my hide if he’d caught me talking about such things, much less performing in one.”

“Is your papa still around?” he asked.

“Heavens no,” Ruby told him. “He died years ago.”

“Then he won’t know, will he?” Tony loved teasing Ruby, who seemed to enjoy it as much as the aunts he so badly missed. He also loved the way her bright eyes danced with mischief even as she feigned shock at his bold words.

“I did have nice legs at one time,” she said, easing her soft, floral print skirt up to mid-calf and glancing down at limbs past their prime.

“Ruby Rose Miller!” Opal scolded, swatting her sister’s skirt back down. Tony guessed that Miller must be their maiden name.

“I was just teasing,” Ruby responded, pouting. “And I’m sure he was, too.”

“Actually, I’m thinking you’re right about those legs.”

Tony could see that even Opal struggled not to laugh at his flattery, though she cast a worried glance in Mariah’s direction. His own gaze found the brunette, who didn’t look a bit amused by his tomfoolery.

What’s her problem? he asked himself for the umpteenth time since she refused his request for a ride into town. Beyond an unmistakably positive—maybe even sexual—first reaction to him, Mariah had been aloof, almost surly. Surely it was time to get past the hitchhiker thing. He didn’t break down on purpose, nor did he hurt anyone once they gave him a lift.

Mariah returned his stare coolly for a moment, then shifted her gaze to Ruby. “The room next to mine, you say?” Her tone chilled him as effectively as the box fan, whirling softly in the window.

Ruby nodded.

“This way, Mr. Mason,” Mariah then murmured, exiting the kitchen through the swing door.

Following Mariah down the hall and up the stairs gave Tony a chance to get a good look at her without being caught doing it. So look he did—beginning at her bare feet, traveling up to her jeans that hugged her shapely bottom the ways jeans should, ending at her straight brown hair, which hung past her shoulders and looked healthy enough for a shampoo commercial.

She stood about five foot six or seven, he decided, wishing it were his hands checking her out instead of his eyes. That height was just about right for his own five eleven. He liked the way she moved—gracefully—and the way she carried herself—with pride. Though he couldn’t see her face at the moment, he knew he liked everything about it, too, from her dark blue eyes to her straight nose, rosy cheeks and wide smile.

Not that he’d seen that smile or the dimples he suspected she might have. He hadn’t yet, but would. Oh, yes, he would. Mariah’s current dislike of him rankled and challenged since he excelled at attracting and entertaining strangers...especially women...talents on which his living depended.

Worse, he sensed that she feared him for some reason, and he suspected her fear went beyond that of bodily harm or loss of belongings, though she probably worried about both of those, too. Lovely Mariah was a puzzle for sure—a puzzle Tony intended to solve before he left Pleasant Rest. Luckily his antique truck had provided an excuse for staying in town a bit longer, just as it had provided him the opportunity to meet her in the first place.

Mariah halted her trek down the carpeted hallway so suddenly that Tony nearly ran into her. “Here’s where you’ll sleep.” She reached through a doorway and flipped on a light, illuminating a spacious bedroom complete with king-size bed, double dresser, sturdy bureau and leather recliner.

“Thanks,” Tony murmured, brushing past her into what had to have been a man’s bedroom. The colors of hunter green and rich maroon abounded, from the curtains to the mallard-print bedspread to the leather in the chair. “Wow,” he murmured, perusing the room, feeling instantly at home. “This is way better than any motel.” He gave her a smile. “It’ll be great to wake up in the same bed for a morning or two.”

She started, then swallowed audibly, almost as if something he’d said disturbed her. “Um...Ruby and Opal usually save this room for visiting relatives.”

“Then why’d they put me in here?”

“I haven’t the slightest idea,” answered Mariah, though she looked as if she might really have several and didn’t like a one of them any more than she liked Tony.

Seeing her as she appeared now—downright angry about his presence in the house—he had to wonder if the sun had fried his brain earlier that day when he’d imagined their initial instantaneous chemistry. All hints of physical attraction, at least on her part, had long since vanished. As for himself...well, at the moment all he could think of was that big ol’ bed and how nice it would be to cozy up with Miss Mariah Ashe on it.

“I get the feeling you wish I wasn’t here,” Tony said, stepping closer, testing her current frame of mind.

She didn’t take a matching step back, but then didn’t need to, since her gaze nailed him to the spot, preventing further advance. That left a yard or so still between them.

“I think my friends are foolish to take you in.”

“Why is that?”

“Because you’re a smooth talker who doesn’t mean a word he says.”

Mariah’s blunt answer surprised and insulted Tony. “Those are mighty strong words, considering we laid eyes on each other for the first time less than an hour ago.”

“Tell me you really remember your first meeting with Opal and Ruby, and I’ll take every word back.”

He couldn’t, so he felt his face flush. “Look, Mariah. I’m just an ordinary guy who’s a little down on his luck.”

“Meaning you’re as broke as your truck is broken?”

“Now what makes you say that?” he asked, insulted again. He’d managed his mobile business for years and always turned a healthy profit, most of which was tucked away in an Amarillo savings and loan, drawing interest.

“Just a guess,” Mariah told him. “So tell me...what’s Ruby accepting in trade for the room?”

Tony’s jaw dropped. How on earth could she possibly know he preferred bartering services to a cash exchange in delicate situations such as this? Or had she simply assumed he was a destitute, no-good drifter, out for what he could get?

Her expression suggested the latter.

“Actually, I am a little strapped for cash at the moment,” he murmured instead of setting her straight. Throwing up a hand to ward off the insults certain to tumble off Mariah’s lips, which still weren’t smiling, he quickly uttered the words she undoubtedly expected to hear. “But only until I know what this truck repair is going to cost me. Ruby’s agreed to accept pastel portraits in payment for one night’s lodging.”

“I see.”

Mariah’s cold tone said what he’d guessed—she thought he was a loser and a user. She turned on her heel and walked to the next doorway. Suddenly irritated with the way the conversation had gone, Tony caught up with her in three strides and grabbed her by the arm before she could vanish into what must be her bedroom.

“Look,” he said when she turned to glare at him. “I’m sorry that artist hurt you—” her shocked expression told him he could guess as well as she could “—but he wasn’t me. I really am a nice guy. I really will do the portraits, and the twins really will be thrilled with them.”

“Oh, I believe you,” Mariah murmured, shaking off his touch. Her tone said the twins would love crayon portraits of stick men if he drew them. “And for your information, they weren’t artists, but they were footloose charmers just like you.”

They? “Sounds like you’ve got my number,” Tony commented with sarcasm.

“Oh, I’ve got it.”

“And you’re prepared to do whatever it takes to save Opal and Ruby?”

“You’d better believe it.”

Inordinately bothered by Mariah’s low opinion of him, Tony leaned close and looked her straight in the eye. “I’d sooner hurt my own mother than either of those sweet little old ladies. So relax, will you? They’re safe...you’re all safe...from me.”

“Really?” She put her splayed fingers to his chest and gave him a little shove. “Well, remember this, Tony Mason. If either of my friends gets hurt in any way while you’re in this house, you’ll never be safe from me.”

Tony didn’t see Mariah again that night after she stepped into her bedroom and shut the door, but thought about their confrontation while he visited with the twins downstairs and consumed a peanut butter sandwich and the best sugar cookies in the state of Texas, maybe the world.

Curious about Mariah’s fierce defense, he did his best to get them to talk about her. “Mariah seems very nice.”

“Oh, she is,” said Ruby. “All her customers love her.”

Tony finished off his cookie before speaking again. “You said she’s single?”

Bright-eyed Opal nodded. “For the moment. She really wants a family, though, and I sometimes think if Willard Reynolds asked her to marry him, she might say yes in a weak moment.” Her expression told Tony she didn’t approve of this Reynolds guy.

“He’s the superintendent of schools,” added Ruby, looking equally disapproving.

“He has a house and a good job,” Opal further explained, as if that would make everything clear.

“What does this Willard guy look like?” Tony asked, naturally curious about a man who could attract a woman as lovely as Mariah.

Ruby spoke first. “He’s balding, with a ruddy complexion. Not too tall, a little pudgy. Opal? Can you add anything?”

“He’s a mama’s boy.”

Tony bit back a smile at their unflattering description. “I get the feeling you don’t care for Mr. Willard Reynolds.”

“Well, we do think she could do better for herself,” said Ruby. “In fact, just this evening we offered to find her a—”

“Ruby!” Opal’s sharp reprimand abruptly halted her sister’s exposé. “Let’s just say Mariah prefers flying solo.”

Flying solo, huh? Well, he understood that desire. Divorced and the wiser for it, Tony preferred flying solo, too.

Sometime later, when Tony lay alone in his borrowed bed, he realized there were times—usually at night—when going it alone became unbearable. He even admitted that just then he wouldn’t mind a close brush with a warm, female body... especially one with beautiful brown hair and long, shapely legs.

Suddenly raising himself up to punch his pillow, Tony successfully distracted himself from thoughts of just such a female, Mariah, sleeping alone in her bed just next door. Such thoughts didn’t surprise him. There’d been that initial power surge between them, after all, and the dark, of late, did things to his will. Luckily, daylight wasn’t many hours away, and with it would come the common sense that had kept him single and mobile the past few years.

And when he hit the road again, hopefully tomorrow afternoon or, at the latest, on Wednesday, he wouldn’t dream of a mystery woman, whose lips said “beat it” even as her sapphire eyes said “on second thought....”

Tony woke to the smell of coffee. He made short work of showering in the bathroom down the hall, then followed his nose downstairs to the kitchen, where Opal and Ruby sat eating breakfast. Mariah was nowhere to be seen.

“Good morning, Tony,” said Ruby. Her gaze avoided his, and Tony had to wonder what had happened during the night to make her appear so ill at ease.

“Good morning, ladies,” he answered. “Would you share a cup of that great-smelling coffee?”

“Of course.” Opal rose from her chair.

“Keep your seat,” Tony quickly said. He moved to the counter on which sat a dish drainer with a man-size mug in it. “May I?”

Ruby nodded and gave Tony a smile that made him feel much better... until she glanced at her sister. At once Ruby’s smile slipped and she sighed as if the weight of the world were suddenly on her shoulders.

What gives? Tony had to wonder. He asked no questions, but filled his cup with hot, black coffee and immediately sipped on it. Though he scalded the inside of his mouth, his resulting sense of rightness with the world made the burn worthwhile.

Tony joined the ladies at the table. “Has Mariah already gone to work?” He’d hoped to catch a ride into town.

“I haven’t seen her this morning,” answered Opal.

“Me, either,” said Ruby, adding, “She could’ve had an early appointment, I suppose. Do you see her car, sister?”

Opal pushed a blue-checkered curtain aside and peered through the window. “It’s still there.”

So Mariah went her own way, Tony realized, and didn’t tell her landladies every move she made. Interesting. Last night he’d gotten the feeling that the three of them were closer than that.

“How do bacon and eggs sound?” asked Ruby. “Or we have frozen waffles we can heat up for you.”

“This coffee is all I need.” Tony had no intention of causing extra work for his gracious hostesses or accumulating more debt than he could barter his way out of. The part for his truck would be hard to locate and would cost a bundle—the main disadvantages of driving a classic vehicle—and Micah worked on a cash-only basis just as Tony, himself, did.

Tony, who’d recently laid out a lot of money for family Christmas presents, needed every cent he had in his wallet at the moment and probably more. He half wished for a checkbook, something he didn’t bother with, since so many places didn’t take out-of state checks—exactly what traveling Tony usually had. As for a credit card...in his experience, those were nothing but trouble. Hadn’t he labored three whole years to pay off his ex-wife’s debts, thanks to a divorce court judge?

He had, indeed, and so now paid as he went—by cash or services—and saved the rest. More important, he didn’t owe anyone a cent.

“But you have to eat.” Ruby looked decidedly distressed. “A good breakfast makes for a good day.”

“And I could sure use one of those,” Tony answered. He glanced toward the kitchen counter and spotted a toaster. “Got any bread?”

“White wheat or homemade sourdough?” asked Ruby, jumping up to dig in a wooden bread box and produce both.

“Sourdough.” Rising from the table, Tony took the bread from Ruby and motioned for her to sit back down. “You don’t have to wait on me.”

“Oh, let her,” Opal told him with an airy wave of her hand. “She misses that. We both do. Ruby has two grown sons, and I have one. I also have two daughters and four grandchildren. We sometimes long for the days when we had our hands full with doing for them.”

“You both sound like my mother. I’m the next to youngest of five kids, and the only son.”

“What do they think of your being on the road all the time?” This question didn’t come from either of the twins, but from Mariah, who now stood in the doorway.

“They’re used to it,” he answered, noting that she looked brighter than the morning sun in her coral top and black pants. Mariah also wore a coral-and-black, geometric-print overshirt, which she had not buttoned, but simply knotted at the waist. To artist Tony’s eye, she appeared symmetrical and coordinated. The man in him simply appreciated her feminine style.

“Even your mother?” Mariah questioned, walking over to the refrigerator. From it she took a jug of orange juice. She then walked to the cabinet and retrieved a small glass.