Cole wasn’t sure why he’d kissed Jackie again last weekend. He also wasn’t sure why he was trying so hard to do the opposite of what he used to do. And if that was the case, then based on how he used to run from Jackie, he should now be jumping into her arms, right?
But the old Cole had smashed through a lot of fences on his way out of town, and the new Cole needed to keep his undivided focus on mending them. And Jackie was a distraction.
Plus, judging by the tightening in his chest whenever he thought about keeping Jackie, the new Cole wasn’t ready for something serious, and she wanted a boyfriend. Her expression had given her away, despite her claim to the contrary.
It had been days since their last kiss and he couldn’t get her off his mind. It didn’t help that Levi wasn’t loading him up with work on the ranch, but leaving him at loose ends more often than was good for him.
“You gonna drink that coffee or just stare at it?” Mrs. Fisher asked, hustling past, her arm loaded with plates of food.
Cole was surprised the woman was still waitressing at the Longhorn Diner. She’d seemed pretty old to him when he’d been in high school. Now that he was thirty-three, he realized she hadn’t actually been that old back then. But now? She was likely nearing sixty and still keeping the town fed and caffeinated like she was thirty years younger.
“Stare at it,” he replied, then took a sip, finding the bitter taste comforting.
Several stools down the counter a man with a full head of white hair stood with a chuckle. He dropped more bills than were necessary on the counter for Mrs. Fisher. “That’s what I do when I come in here, too.” He winked at the waitress, who rolled her eyes with a weary sigh.
“Garfield, you’re leaving too much money again.”
“It’s a tip. It’s not every day a man my age gets to enjoy such a beautiful view.”
Mrs. Fisher pursed her lips, but Cole noted the hint of pink that had appeared in her cheeks at the compliment.
Realizing he’d been hunched on his stool for at least twenty minutes, Cole arched back and stretched out his arms, then clasped his hands behind his neck and twisted from side to side. Years of rodeo hadn’t done his body any favors, but some yoga moves he’d picked up from nature guide and yoga instructor Jen Kulak, over in Blueberry Springs, Colorado, had helped. When he remembered to do them.
“Mmm. You been working out, Cole?”
The sweet female voice had him twisting toward the stool on his left. He lowered his arms as Daisy-Mae Ray licked her lips; her gaze doing a slow crawl over his biceps and shoulders.
“What’s up, Daisy-Mae?” He hunched back over his coffee, wishing he could hide. He was getting tired of the attention. There’d been a time when he’d have rolled around in it like a dog that had found something that smelled particularly appetizing.
“Not much.” She crossed her arms and leaned her elbows on the counter, pressing her impressive cleavage against the V of her shirt.
Cole cleared his throat and looked the other way. A woman had slid in on his other side, as well. Myles’s girlfriend, Karen Hartley, the town librarian. She was the opposite of Daisy-Mae, with her dark hair, and blouse buttoned to her collarbone. She was cute. Pretty. And oh so serious.
“The library is having an auction,” she announced.
“We need bachelors,” Daisy-Mae cooed, lowering her lashes and batting them twice when Cole glanced back at her.
“It’s not like that.” Karen had set a clipboard on the counter, pen poised above a list. “Would you help us?”
He opened his mouth to decline, but she quickly carried on. “On Friday the thirteenth”—she gave a tiny shiver—“we’re having an auction as well as a wine and cheese social. Free admittance.”
“Free? I didn’t hear that,” Mrs. Fisher said, strolling past. She paused, smoothing her half apron over her hips before picking up the full coffeepot.
“If more than fifty county residents participate we’re eligible for a nice-sized grant.”
“So we need to get people in the door,” Daisy-Mae explained.
“We also welcome donations, but I’m sure the auction will more than cover the cost of the wine and cheese,” Karen said crisply, her spine straightening as she adjusted her dark-rimmed glasses.
“People make poor decisions when they’ve had a few drinks,” Daisy-Mae said, stroking her neck with her long, lacquered nails.
“We aren’t promoting bad decisions,” Karen warned her.
“It’s a bachelor auction,” Daisy-Mae pointed out.
Karen raised her voice, her exasperation clear. “It’s not like that, Daisy-Mae. We aren’t auctioning dates. This is different. And it’s done blindly.”
“Do you like to be blindfolded?” Daisy-Mae asked Cole, giggling. The woman was incorrigible.
He stared at the small window to the diner’s kitchen. He would offer to scour that greased-up grill for free for the rest of the year if he thought it might get him out of this conversation.
“Nobody is blindfolded,” Karen muttered tersely.
“You get so wound up,” Daisy-Mae said playfully. She leaned over and snagged a clean cup, then flagged down Mrs. Fisher, who had moved along the counter with her coffeepot.
“You want one, Karen?” Mrs. Fisher asked, as she returned to fill Daisy-Mae’s.
The librarian shook her head and smoothed a hand down the sheet on her clipboard. Cole held out his cup for Mrs. Fisher, receiving a top up.
As the waitress moved away, he realized he would have been smarter to ask for his tab so he could escape before he got roped into saving the library or some such thing.
Then again, that’s what the old Cole would have done—escaped.
He was kind of missing that guy right now.
Karen adjusted her glasses again and pivoted to face him. “I don’t know if you’ve heard, but they almost shut the library down a few months ago.”
“You and Myles put on a fair, right?” He blew on his coffee, then took a tentative sip. Perfect temperature.
Karen brightened at his brother’s name. She had it bad. It made Cole a bit envious. It also made him think of Jackie.
Then again, he’d spotted a shirt the same color as Jackie’s eyes in the window of Jenny’s shop, Blue Tumbleweed, and thought of her then, too.
“We raised a lot, but not quite enough to keep the library open for the full year.” Karen looked down at her clipboard, and Cole got the feeling she wasn’t planning on giving him the full story when it came to this auction.
He sipped his coffee and waited. He could make up an excuse and go, but now he was curious. Did she need him to help rope Myles into something?
“So this is a matchmaking night?” Mrs. Fisher asked, sliding a few packets of sugar to Daisy-Mae as she went past.
Cole caught Karen flashing Daisy-Mae a panicked look.
He was pretty sure that was his cue to leave.
He pushed back as though about to stand. “I’m not open for matchmaking at the moment, thanks. And I’m pretty sure none of my brothers are, either.” He plucked his hat off the counter and adjusted it over his brow. “Sorry.”
Before he could stand, Karen clamped a hand over his wrist. Her grip was firm.“It’s not like that. It’s a social event and an odd-job auction.”
“It’s called the Sweetheart Creek Bachelor Auction,” Daisy-Mae proclaimed.
“No,” Karen said firmly. “It’s the Valentine’s Day Odd Job Auction.”
“I still prefer my name,” Daisy-Mae said, stirring her coffee, her spoon clinking.
“So, what is it?” Cole asked, settling back into his spot.
“People share their skills and interests when they sign up, as well as the odd job they need help with. We do some matching in the background before the event. During Friday’s auction, you only get to bid—”
“Blindly!” Daisy-Mae interjected.
“—on people who fall into the category we matched you with. We do that behind the scenes, based on your questionnaire answers. So then at the auction on the thirteenth you find someone to help you with your odd job on Valentine’s Day. You spend the day together working on them, have lunch, and then join the group for supper.”
That didn’t sound like anything he’d ever heard of.
“Did y’all come up with this?”
Karen nodded.
“But its success hinges on having enough people,” Daisy-Mae said.
“So on auction day—”
“What’s happening on auction day?” a white-haired man asked from the end of the counter. It was Cole’s great-uncle Henry Wylder, scowling at them. “Is that brother of yours buying more no-good horses just so he can store them over at Carly Clarke’s and make doe eyes at her?”
“We’re going to auction you off in a matchmaking game,” Karen stated primly, her pen poised over the clipboard. “Can I put you down as a yes?”
Cole swallowed a chuckle as the man jerked as though someone had jabbed his back end with a live cattle prod. Henry’s scowl deepened, and he turned his shoulder, even though it meant facing the wall to his left.
Karen, looking pleased, glanced back at Cole. “As I was saying, we match people up and give them a number based on a category. So, say you were interested in helping with a carpentry project, we would match you with a certain number for that. Then whoever is looking for help with carpentry bids on it.”
“That’s the matchmaking part,” Daisy-Mae said. “But we hide the person they’re bidding on behind a curtain.”
“We’d read your description, to help them bid on the right person in their category of interest.”
“You don’t know who you’ve won until the big reveal at the end.” Daisy-May made a trumpeting sound and waved her hands as though displaying a prize.
“Sounds like human trafficking,” Henry grumbled. “And prostitution.”
Karen flushed. “It’s not.”
Daisy-Mae said with authority, “Miss Prim would never break the law.”
“And then the next day,” Karen said with special emphasis, “on the fourteenth—”
“That’s Valentine’s Day.” Daisy-Mae leaned toward Cole, nearly sloshing her coffee on the sleeve of his jacket in the process.
“—everyone meets up for their odd-job day.”
“What if you don’t need help with anything?”
“I’m sure you could think of something, Cole,” Mrs. Fisher said. “You live on a ranch. Y’all could detail one of the trucks or brush down some horses for Betty in the riding stable.”
Cole couldn’t imagine paying to do that with a participant he hadn’t chosen. What if he got matched with someone who just wanted to paw him all day?
“This is supposed to be fun,” Karen said. “No romantic expectations. No obligation to make it a date. We’re raising money for the library and creating a new social event.”
“Can married people join? I have an odd-job list as long as an elephant’s trunk,” Mrs. Fisher stated. She caught Karen’s look and hurriedly added, “Relax. My yard is a fright, is all.”
“I can help you, Mrs. Fisher,” Cole said, finishing his coffee.
“Don’t worry, I’m sure Myles will take care of it. I’ll drop a hint.” She winked and went to retrieve two meals from the cook as the order-up bell rang.
“So let me get this straight,” Cole turned to Karen once again. “Some poor woman blindly spends money on the opportunity to have some guy fix some stuff for her. Then she’s gotta fix something for him. And they have to go on a date?”
Karen was gnawing on her bottom lip, doubt shading her formerly bright expression.
“Yes!” Daisy-Mae said. She slapped her palms on the counter, making her coffee cup jump. “And both parties pay a fee to participate. Fifty bucks.”
“Fifty?” Cole scowled, feeling like his uncle.
“Yes, fifty. That’s only $13.50 an hour for the help. That’s a good deal.”
“But that’s not an auction.”
“Yes it is.” Her expression turned sly. “The guy issues a challenge and whatever woman can complete it wins.”
“A challenge?”
“Silly stuff. Like who can carry the most library books across the room without dropping any.”
That could be interesting.
“Can we put you down as a bachelor?” Karen asked.
Normally he would say no…
“A bunch of people are going,” Daisy-Mae said. “Me, Jenny Oliver. And I heard Jackie saying she needs her bumper fixed from when she swerved to miss Bill on Christmas Day.”
“Darn near killed her passenger,” Henry grumbled. When the trio looked over, he jerked a thumb at his chest. “Me. I told her to be careful, but she didn’t listen. Could have given me a heart attack.”
Jackie.
Cole turned to Karen. “Do you want my fifty bucks now or later?”
* * *
Jackie accepted the glass of wine from Karen Hartley in the renovated barn just outside Sweetheart Creek. Tomorrow was Valentine’s Day, and she’d signed up for the auction to support the library, and to help where she could. And maybe to be busy tomorrow.
“Grab yourself a table,” Karen said, steering her to an empty one near the front.
“But don’t you still need help?” She’d been at the barn after work to help with setup, and was hoping that, despite being sent home to “spruce herself up,” she could continue to help out rather than be a bidder. They’d already set up a microphone near the barn’s large doors and strung bedsheets from the thick wooden rafters above, to create a backstage area where the bachelors could mingle without being seen. Surely there was more to be done.
“We’re good. The auction starts in two minutes. Do you have your number?” Karen consulted her clipboard and handed Jackie a red card with a four written on it with thick marker.
“My lucky number.”
“We hope so,” Daisy-Mae said, sashaying over and giving Karen a wink. With a flounce, she sat in one of the hard folding chairs at Jackie’s table.
“Are you sure you don’t need more help?” Jackie asked Karen before sitting down.
She shook her head. Myles was adjusting the sound system along with Levi, the brothers helping their girlfriends with tonight’s event.
“Well, then. I guess I’d better bid on someone mechanical. Maybe I can get my bumper fixed,” Jackie said, crossing her fingers.
“And find a boyfriend for tomorrow night,” Daisy-Mae said, checking her reflection in a pocket mirror.
“Please let him not be ancient,” Jackie joked, resolving to be a good sport even though her heart wasn’t in the mood for a bachelor auction.
Daisy-Mae reached over and gave her a high five. “Amen, sister.”
It felt as though most of her friends had paired up lately, which meant they hadn’t been suckered into bidding on a man who might or might not turn out to be a lecherous sleazebag.
Not that Sweetheart Creek had many of those, but knowing her luck, that’s who she’d end up with. She took a moment to scan the barn’s occupants. There were still enough single people in town to give the bachelors a few options, but at least half the women in the audience were younger than Jackie, making her feel old. What if the men on the other side of the curtain were crossing their fingers and hoping they didn’t get set up with someone like her?
She placed her number flat on the table, wondering if Karen would be upset if she didn’t bid. Though her friend had insisted the auction was about getting things crossed off people’s to-do lists, while socializing and raising money, Jackie knew it was a matchmaking event. And for whatever reason, she couldn’t find the enthusiasm for it. Maybe it was the fact that she was looking for something a bit more serious than a good time purchased at an auction.
Jenny Oliver joined her and Daisy-Mae at the rectangular table, sliding in between them. “What number do you have?” she asked, holding up a six.
Jackie showed hers, and so did Daisy-Mae, who also had a four.
“May the best woman win,” Daisy-Mae said.
“Thank goodness it’s a blind auction.” Jackie gave Daisy-Mae an appraising look, and the woman laughed. She was a former Miss Sweet Hills County beauty queen and had a way of turning men’s brains into pudding with just one dazzling smile.
“I hear we have to do challenges if there’s a tie,” Jackie said. Thankfully. Otherwise, if based on a schoolyard pick, Jackie was fairly certain they would leave her empty-handed if she went up against Daisy-Mae.
“Apparently someone forgot to look up the definition of ‘auction,’” Jenny muttered.
“Works for me. I don’t have a lot of spare cash these days.” Daisy-Mae tugged at her tight blouse and smoothed a few strands of hair into her up-do.
“Why not?”
Daisy-Mae shrugged off the question. She was a bit of an entrepreneur, renting out that crazy free-gravity trampoline thing Karen and Myles had borrowed for the library’s fall fair.
Karen cleared her throat at the microphone and Laura Oakes, Levi’s girlfriend, a former fashion model, appeared from behind the curtain to stand beside her. The long stretch of fabric billowed behind them, drawing Jackie’s attention to the occasional deep voice filtering to where she was sitting. She strained her ears to identify them and noticed Daisy-Mae doing the same.
“I wish we knew who we were bidding on,” Jenny said.
“It’s not fair they don’t get to strut their stuff for us,” Daisy-Mae added.
“You can’t see the men because this is a blind match-up,” Karen announced, looking at her friends in the front row. “And it’s also not about matchmaking. It’s about getting items off our to-do lists with help from someone in the county.”
Daisy-Mae rolled her eyes. “Whatever. We all know why we’re here.”
The other women cheered.
“Bring on the men!” someone from the back shouted.
Jackie laughed and turned to face those seated behind her, giving them two thumbs-up.
The curtain behind Karen billowed again and the owner of the local rodeo grounds, Ranger Torrington, peeked out, scanning the crowd. When he made eye contact with someone behind Jackie, he held up two fingers and mouthed “Two.”
So not fair.
Laura shooed Ranger back behind the curtain.
The man was cute, had inherited a ranch and the rodeo grounds at age twenty-five, and now at age twenty-seven had apparently already chosen his winner.
Matchmaking was already happening.
Jackie felt a tremor of excitement despite herself. Daisy-Mae was grinning widely, and Jenny looked pale. Daisy-Mae leaned out of her chair, her focus on the bottom of the curtain, watching for flashes of footwear.
“That’s Owen Lancaster,” she announced with authority. “Did you hear his family owns a huge spread east of town?”
“The Wylders’ new hired hand?” Jenny asked, growing paler. “How do you know?”
“Didn’t you sell him those boots?” Daisy-Mae asked, still watching the curtain’s hem.
“I’ve sold thirteen pairs in that style since October.”
“Why is he working for the Wylders?” Jackie asked.
Daisy-Mae shrugged. “I heard he had a falling out with his dad.” Her face creased in concentration, then she brightened. “That’s Maverick Blades! The NHL star!”
The murmur in the room grew louder as women stood, trying to see what Daisy-Mae had.
Karen appeared to be panicking. “We can’t guarantee who’s here or not here,” Laura said, taking Karen’s microphone and speaking into it. “Maybe we have some local celebrities and maybe we don’t. Maybe we have someone here for you who will be your own celebrity.”
“That doesn’t make sense,” Jenny said.
“They’re freaking out because I was right,” Daisy-Mae said smugly. “Did you hear he’s starting his own team this year?”
“He just got traded to the new team in Houston,” Jackie said, correcting her. “And how do you know what his shoes look like?”
The woman gave her a serene, knowing look. Daisy-Mae was going home with a man, and it would definitely be the one she wanted.
But who did Jackie want? And if she dared think who that man might be… was he even here?
Not likely. This wasn’t Cole’s scene. Not that she was looking for Cole Wylder, because that would be a big uh-oh. And even if he was here? They wouldn’t be paired together. There wasn’t anything to connect them to each other beyond a few hot kisses and flirty fun. And they’d both sworn off that.
“If you have a number six on your card,” Karen said into the microphone, “then you have been matched up with this bachelor as a possibility, since you’ve both written down similar interests. After hearing his description, simply raise your number to bid. If we have more than one bidder, then the man behind the curtain will issue a challenge. The winner gets him for tomorrow, and he gets you. Remember, nothing kinky. Just helping each other out, and a nice little lunch break in between.”
“That’s boring,” Jenny muttered.
“Nothing kinky?” Daisy-Mae sighed and raised her eyes to the string of white lights hanging above them. “We can’t help it if some hanky-panky happens.” She caught Karen’s glance, then languidly lifted an eyebrow. Yup. She turned men into puddles, all right, and made serious librarians blush.
“I hope some hanky-panky happens,” Jenny said, with a sigh of her own. “It’s been a long time.”
“I’ll bring you to a football game next season,” Jackie promised. She’d created quite a few couples at games last year, solidifying her title as the community matchmaker.
“How many games did I attend with you?” Daisy-Mae complained. “And look at my finger.” She thrust out her hand. “Still bare.”
“I’ll definitely get you hooked up in the coming season,” Jackie promised, hoping her matchmaking prowess pulled through for her friend.
“Our first man is handy,” Karen announced.
“Handsy?” Jackie called.
Karen gave her a stern look.
What? She’d said she wanted lively, fun people here. Jackie was being lively.
“Handy. He’s an expert with sticky doors, broken screens and painting walls and house trim.”
“Yawn,” Daisy-Mae said, patting her mouth. Jenny grabbed her hand, hushing her.
“Any sixes here tonight who need a handyman?”
Daisy-Mae tried to make Jenny raise her number.
“He’s looking for a woman who can cook and freeze him a month’s worth of meals,” Karen read. Most of the numbers that had been raised dropped instantly.
Jackie cupped her hands and hollered, “It’s called the frozen foods aisle, sweetheart. Someone needs to check the year. Women left the kitchen years ago.”
Some of the women laughed and nodded.
“Ladies,” Karen exclaimed, her tone almost begging, “this is a good deal. If you know how to cook, a couple hours in the kitchen will get all those pesky broken, sticky doors in your home fixed.”
“That’s what my landlord is for,” Jackie muttered. “If I wanted that kind of nuisance, I’d own a house.”
“Can I bid on this guy even though I have the wrong number?” Daisy-Mae called out.
Karen glanced at Laura, who was shuffling papers. She shrugged.
“If nobody else bids, then yes,” Karen declared.
“I thought you said ‘yawn’?” Jackie said to Daisy-Mae, who ignored her. “And when did you learn to cook?”
“It’s called the internet.”
“I’m bidding! I’m bidding! Don’t open it up to other numbers,” MayBeth Albright hollered. She was a library volunteer in her fifties, and as Jackie recalled, she made amazing muffins, meaning her cooking would likely satisfy any man. Plus she lived in one of the tiny original homes a block off Main Street, which was a handyman’s dream.
Jackie spun in her seat. MayBeth was the last remaining bidder. She was beaming, her excitement clear.
“Oh my gosh. We have a match,” Jackie said.
“You’re our winning bid, MayBeth,” Karen said, looking pleased. “Congratulations.”
The crowd cheered as Laura pulled back the curtain’s edge and a tall man with broad shoulders stepped forward. His eyes met MayBeth’s and Jackie could have sworn the woman nearly swooned. He was probably five years younger, but the way the two looked at each other had promise.
Jackie sighed, her matchmaking heart satisfied. “I bet they’re married in a year and a half,” she whispered to Jenny, who looked at her like she was crazy.
Daisy-Mae leaned forward to speak across Jenny. “Less than a year. Have you forgotten where we live? I bet she has a ring on her finger in five months or less.”
“We weren’t talking about a ring, we’re talking about a wedding. MayBeth has a large family, and it’s going to take a lot to plan her big event. Year and a half.”
Daisy-Mae shrugged, then agreed. “Ring in five months or less, wedding in less than a year and a half.”
“You’re both incorrigible,” Jenny said. She brightened. “Do me! How long for me?”
“You have to find someone first.”
“Just like the rest of us,” Daisy-Mae declared.
Jackie nodded, suddenly very aware that she had already found someone. Someone who would never work out. Maybe she should really get into this auction tonight and go crazy with some bids. Maybe that’s all it would take to meet someone new. Someone who would distract her from thinking about Cole all the time.
“Our next helpful bachelor is a four,” Karen announced, consulting her clipboard. “Ladies, if you have number four, listen up!”
Daisy-Mae and Jackie both straightened in their chairs, not daring to look at each other.
The audience was growing louder, the power of wine and a win for MayBeth under their belts.
“This man is handy, strong and a jack-of-all-trades. He’s looking for a woman who doesn’t mind his scattered skills and a little teasing during their workday. He says he’s someone you can rely on.”
Karen’s gaze met Jackie’s before darting away.
She was matchmaking for her? That was so sweet. Jackie could use someone to get her mind off Cole Wylder.
And this jack-of-all-trades sounded like someone who might fix her car.
Jackie raised her red card. “I’m in!”
* * *
Cole could hear laughter and loud chatter on the other side of the curtain, but he couldn’t make out what Karen was saying. The speakers pointed out into the crowd rather than toward where he was standing, surrounded by idly chatting men. He hoped he’d be called early in the auction, before the women got too crazy.
“What did you get me into?” Owen Lancaster, the Sweet Meadows Ranch’s newest hired hand, asked him as someone let out a wine-fueled whoop.
“No idea,” Cole commented with a grimace. The laughter on the other side of the white curtain was sounding like something the old Cole would have thrived on. It was a good thing he was a community-minded man now. Although putting himself out there like a piece of meat to be auctioned off, and fought over by the crazed women of Sweetheart Creek, probably wasn’t a move in the right direction. Even if it was to help the library.
And maybe get paired up with Jackie.
There. She’d wormed her way into his thoughts again, hadn’t she? But maybe she could be a perfect match—non-romantically—in this auction. Someone fun to brighten his day, but not interested in anything other than friendship. They could work together tomorrow and then go their separate ways.
Smiling to himself, he realized Laura was trying to get his attention.
“Sorry, what?”
“You’re up.” She had come around the corner of the curtain.
“Me?”
“You. Number four. And we’re going to need a challenge.”
What was she talking about?
“We have eight ladies who found your description appealing.” Her smile made him sick to his stomach.
Eight?
“The good news,” she said, hugging her clipboard, “is that you only end up with one.”
“Eight,” Owen said with a chuckle, elbowing Cole in the ribs. “What did you write in your description?”
“What did you say in yours? You like long horseback rides and home-cooked meals?”
Owen turned the color of the sheet hanging beside them.
“You did, didn’t you?”
“No.” The man looked away.
“You know, you could have raised a lot more money if you’d put this guy on the poster and then asked those ladies to pull out their wallets.” Cole pointed to Maverick Blades, a family friend who played in the NHL.
“Or…” Cole turned to Owen “…mentioned we have a former Mr. MLB Rookie of the Year.”
“That was a long time ago,” he muttered.
Two years ago, according to local gossip. And yet the man was hiding out in Sweetheart Creek. One day Cole would have to get the story from him.
“We need a challenge,” Laura repeated, her tone urgent.
“I don’t know what you mean,” Cole replied.
“Didn’t you read the sheet Karen gave you?”
Cole glanced at the other men, who all shrugged.
Laura rolled her eyes, then stepped closer, her blue cowboy boots helping her to match his height as well as that of several other of the bachelors.
“When we have more than one woman bidding on a candidate, we issue a challenge. The bidders face off, and the winner is paired with you.”
“I like the sound of this,” Maverick said with a rugged grin. He hadn’t shaved today, and the five o’clock shadow contouring his jaw made him look like a hunk any woman with a heartbeat would desire. Karen could have cleaned out the Sweetheart Creek Credit Union if she’d advertised him.
“Find a razor,” Cole retorted.
Maverick smirked and stroked his bristly chin.
“Ideally, your challenge speaks to who you are,” Laura said. “You know, thin the herd.”
“Best joke. That’s my challenge,” Owen said, crossing his arms and tipping back in his cowboy boots. He pointed both fingers at Laura. “You got it? That one’s all mine.” He gave Cole a narrow-eyed look as though daring him to steal the idea.
“Who says you’re going to need one?” Cole asked.
“You did.” Owen looked smug. He was a quiet guy, but once you got to know him… man, he was a pain in the butt. Fun, though.
“Thank you,” Laura said smoothly to Owen, making a note on her clipboard. “I like a helpful man who can think on his feet.” She turned her attention back to Cole, all focused and Zen. And maybe not entirely impressed with him at the moment.
Wasn’t that something he was supposed to be working on? Being a good, helpful guy who didn’t make life difficult for those around him?
On the other side of the curtain, a chant had started up: Challenge! Challenge!
“The women are waiting,” Owen prompted.
Sweat prickled Cole’s spine. He said the first thing that popped into his head. “Arm wrestle.”
Laura watched him for a beat, then headed to the other side of the curtain.
Cole sucked air through his teeth and winced at the lameness of his challenge. Those were women out there, not men.
Owen laughed and slapped him on the back. “Why didn’t you just suggest mud wrestling?”
Cole scowled and crossed his arms. Reinventing himself was difficult. He should have thought of something witty and yet sensitive. Not a wrestling match.
Then again, with a wrestling match, he’d be less likely to win a woman who’d spend the day making eyes at him. She’d hog-tie him and toss him in the back of his truck instead. He shuddered as Karen announced the challenge.
Naturally, she received plenty of groans. He was ready to scratch his name from the list and go home when he heard her voice.
Jackie. She was here.
And she had bid on his number—on him.
Suddenly, despite his vow to focus on nothing but family for the next several months, he wished he’d chosen a challenge so specific that only Jackie Moorhouse could win.
* * *
“Arm wrestle?” Jackie crowed. Okay, this whole auction thing had just got a lot more fun. And now she was even more intrigued about the man behind the curtain.
“What kind of brute are we bidding for?” Daisy-Mae asked, her lip curled in disgust.
Jackie sized up the women who had bid on the bachelor. She wasn’t the strongest, but two contenders had already tossed their cards facedown on the table, bowing out. At the very least she could help Karen keep things fun, even if she didn’t win this particular man.
“You can’t change your mind!” Laura was scolding the man behind the curtain. “It’s been announced.” She lowered her voice, but the microphone still picked up what she said next. “And no, I’m not asking them to guess your middle name.”
“Bronson! William! Mack!” Jackie hollered. “Joseph. George?”
Laura gave her a dark look.
“He doesn’t have one!” Jackie dissolved into giggles.
“Oh my.” Daisy-Mae reached over and removed Jackie’s glass of wine. “Let’s cut you off now so you don’t wind up making the front page of the paper, ‘kay?”
“Ladies, come on up here,” Karen said. “We’ll have three separate arm wrestling competitions. The winners will advance to a second challenge.”
Jackie edged away from Matty, a woman who ran her own ranch and had forearms as beefy as Jackie’s calves. If she was going to be paired up, she wanted it to be with someone like Violet Granger, whose version of arm exercises was answering the phone for the mayor, part of her job as his administrative assistant.
The first two contenders went head-to-head, with Matty winning. She jumped up and let out a triumphant holler, and the loser snagged a second glass of wine on her way back to her table.
“Jackie and Daisy-Mae,” Karen said, moving them to one side. “You’ll go third. Violet and Anna, you’re next.”
While the second contest began, Laura and Karen bent their heads together, murmuring. The chants, hoots and hollers of the audience became deafening as Violet and Anna battled, their elbows on the table.
Karen and Laura were now whispering with Daisy-Mae, who kept glancing at Jackie and nodding. Something was definitely going on.
She sighed, knowing they meant well. They didn’t realize there was no man other than Cole who could capture her interest right now. She needed time to allow her crush—which had been reignited after being squelched only a few weeks ago—to wane. Unfortunately, it seemed to be worse than ever. And even though she’d barely seen the man since April and Brant’s reception, she thought about him much too frequently.
“Come on, girls, we need a winner!” Karen coaxed, as the wrestling continued, Violet and Anna turning red from exertion. Violet finally pinned Anna’s hand to the table.
Karen beckoned Jackie and Daisy-Mae forward.
“Can we change the challenge?” Daisy-Mae asked. She fluttered her fingers, showing off her newly done nails.
“Are you stepping down?” Karen asked meaningfully.
Daisy-Mae nodded and returned to her seat. Jackie lifted her eyebrows in question. Daisy-Mae wasn’t one to back down from a challenge. Not even over a fresh manicure.
Jackie was definitely being set up. But with who? She watched the bottom of the curtain, seeking hints. Maverick? The cute new hired hand on the Wylders’ ranch? Or was Cole back there, her friends determined she make something of her very public crush?
Why should she win Cole, anyway? They weren’t a good match. He’d been into rodeo, and she’d never owned a horse. She could ride, of course, but there really wasn’t that much that she and Cole had in common.
And anyway, he was way too attractive. She could resist the man for only so long. If she won him, the whole thing would be nothing short of trouble. For both of them.
Jackie turned, waving Daisy-Mae back up front. Daisy-Mae shook her head, mouthing the words, “Not worth it.”
“What if it’s Maverick?” Jackie mouthed back.
Daisy-Mae frowned as though that was a ridiculous suggestion.
“Our second challenge is a handstand,” Karen announced.
Jackie spread her arms again, looking at Daisy-Mae. As a former cheerleader, the woman could’ve had this.
“I can’t do one,” said Matty, returning to her chair.
“I’ll hold your legs up for you,” Jackie offered.
Because what if it was Cole behind the curtain? There was no way she was winning. No way.
“Bring it on,” Violet Granger, the last remaining challenger, said with a giggle. Her cheeks were flushed as she bent over, placing her palms on the wooden floor. “Oh, man. My wrestling arm is spent.”
Jackie watched with compassion. Violet had moved from Dallas to marry a man who’d left her at the altar a year and a half ago. By then she’d already bought a house and found a job with the town office, and had decided to stay. Now she was ready to move on, and had been flirting with Brant as well as Cole. This brave woman deserved a Wylder and all that their wonderful family brought with them. She deserved to win this one.
Violet was still folded over, butt in the air. That seemed to be the extent of her handstand.
“Need help?” Jackie asked, moving to her side. If the woman was willing to put herself out there, she deserved some help.
Before she could reply, Jackie hoisted Violet’s legs in the air, holding her there for a second, until her arms started shaking and she squeaked, “Let me down! Let me down!”
Jackie helped her drop into a roll so she wouldn’t hurt her neck as she collapsed. She lay there panting for a moment, then slowly climbed to her feet. “Your turn,” she said, her arms held out to assist Jackie.
“No, no, it’s okay. Knowing my luck, I’d kick you in the face.” Plus Violet might be a bit too helpful and cause her to win.
“Here goes nothing,” Jackie muttered, as the chanting reached deafening levels once more. Ensuring her sweater was tucked in, she pushed up her sleeves. She lifted her arms before swinging them down, planting her hands on the floor while kicking her legs in the air. Her handstand was awful, causing a crick in her back as she furiously waved her legs to keep them aloft.
Giggling, she tumbled onto the wooden floor, spreading her arms dramatically. “That was awful. I think you should win,” she declared, as Violet helped her up.
“I think you should. You did yours without help.”
The audience was in stitches, and as Jackie performed a slow bow, she wondered why on earth she’d agreed to take part.
Oh, yes. Her car’s broken bumper, which Clint Walker had estimated would cost her at least two hundred fifty dollars in labor, new bumper not included.
Violet stated, “You definitely should win.”
“You’re too nice.”
“I know.”
“I thought you’d be good at handstands.”
“Maybe I had too much to drink,” she confided. “The room is spinning a little.”
Jackie was declared the winner, despite her protests, and Laura revealed the man she’d won. His black shirt emphasized the power of his square shoulders. His black hat was pulled down low, creating shadows across his eyes, and his jeans were so form-fitting several women in the audience nearly swooned.
It was none other than the man Jackie had been thinking about all her life: Cole Wylder.
* * *
Cole sucked in a deep breath and stepped forward, revealing himself to the crowd of waiting women. He immediately spotted Jackie and exhaled in relief as she studiously fought a grin that, despite her efforts, lit up her face. Irresistible.
She glanced away, looking conflicted, trying to hide the smile. He shook his head, quickening his steps. It was a good thing she didn’t want him and he wasn’t doing relationships, because otherwise he might find himself sorely tempted to sweep her up into his arms and kiss her. It would be way too easy to get lost in the way she brightened in his presence, and the way it made him feel as though he’d finally found someone who understood him, who had his back. Being around Jackie was heady and dangerous.
“Cole Wylder!” Karen announced, and the women cheered. Cole caught himself, almost stumbling. He’d forgotten about the other bidders. He paused long enough to perform a grand bow before continuing toward the woman he’d be spending Valentine’s Day with.
“Jackie, I believe you already have Cole’s number…” Karen winked at the crowd “…but the two of you can stand off to the side to make your arrangements for tomorrow’s meet-up.”
Cole could have sworn Jackie’s chest expanded as she inhaled, as though needing to steady herself.
Good? Bad?
That smile was gone, her eyes filled with wariness.
Karen waited a beat as he cautiously closed the last of the distance between them. “Jackie? What do you have in mind for Cole tomorrow?”
He could’ve sworn the straitlaced librarian had a hint of mischief in her voice. She’d no doubt heard the rumors that Jackie had been crushing on him—even though she didn’t act like it.
“I need my bumper fixed,” Jackie said.
“Is that what we’re calling it now?” Daisy-Mae exclaimed loudly. “‘Cause I need mine fixed, too.”
Cole chuckled as the room erupted with roars of laughter. A lot of women were trying to catch his attention, waving their numbers, and he was relieved he wasn’t the last man being auctioned off today. He had a feeling a feeding frenzy was about to happen.
“So?” Jackie murmured as they stepped aside and the auction resumed. She ran her palms down the thighs of her jeans. She looked nervous and wouldn’t quite meet his eyes. It was as though she’d read every thought running through his mind and feared he’d consume her.
“We meet again,” he said mildly. Jackie was especially sexy tonight, even though she’d dressed down, as if not wanting attention. Or maybe she was well aware of just how eye-catching her sweater was, hugging her curves. Her cheeks were lightly flushed, giving her a healthy glow, and her lips looked delectable.
He knew he wasn’t supposed to be wanting this, tempting fate and all that, but she’d gotten under his skin.
“I hear no hanky-panky is allowed,” she stated, a glimmer of challenge in her eyes. She was no longer afraid to look at him, flirt with him. The change was surprising, sending him off-kilter.
“That shouldn’t be a problem for us,” he said in a low voice. “We’ve both sworn off of that.”
“True. But what will we talk about if we aren’t giving each other goodbye kisses?”
Oh, she was a flirt. She could hook him without even trying.
“That could be a challenge,” he said gravely.
She smirked. “Maybe Karen has a book on conversation starters.”
Cole laughed, his desire to take Jackie by the hand and lead her home growing by the moment. Although seeing a woman at a nearby table leaning off her chair, trying to listen in, sobered him quickly. He cleared his throat and said to Jackie, “Meet at eight? Your house?”
“Sure, but I don’t have the tools we need to fix my bumper. Do you?”
“Why don’t you come by the ranch instead? We’ve probably got everything we’ll need. Are we replacing the bumper? I heard about your driving adventure from Henry.”
“Is he still moaning about that? I swerved to avoid hitting Bill, and crunched my bumper when we hit the ditch. I have it taped in place so it doesn’t drag, but I was hoping for something more permanent.”
“Mom’s having Clint over for supper again tonight,” Cole said, referring to the local mechanic, his mother’s new boyfriend.
It had been Clint Walker who’d phoned and asked him to come home, in an effort to win over Maria and show her how much he cared about her and her family. Cole thought that was pretty sweet. And he couldn’t help noting the affection they shared with each other, something that had been missing between his parents in recent years. What they’d had in the beginning had faded thanks to time and the effort of running a ranch and raising five boys. “I’ll ask his advice.”
“He said I might need a new one.”
“If we can’t take care of everything tomorrow,” Cole said, gliding his gaze over her face, “I take rain checks.”
“I like rain checks,” she whispered, her voice hoarse with what he recognized as longing. Her pulse throbbed under the thin skin of her throat, and she looked completely kissable.
For the second time that night Cole wondered why, when it came to Jackie, he was holding back and obeying his own rules.