Prudence Keyes hated weddings. Especially the romantic kind such as the one she was currently attending. Love was radiating from the faces of the bride and groom, while many of the female guests seated throughout the church were shedding sentimental tears.
Prudence had tried to squeeze a few drops of moisture from her eyes, just for appearance’s sake, but they’d stubbornly refused to surface. Which was hardly surprising, considering that she’d rather be in a dentist chair, suffering through a root canal procedure. Anything would be better than sitting here on this wooden pew with rows of candles flickering around the room, the sweet scent of peonies and roses filling the air, and the notes of a love song drifting from a piano.
Everything about the ceremony was a beautiful example of true, lasting love. Which made it an especially awful reminder of everything that Prudence lost so many years ago.
Oh, God, if only she could come up with some feasible excuse to avoid the reception, she silently bemoaned. But so far, she couldn’t think up one good reason to miss what would probably be one of the largest and most elaborate parties to ever be thrown in Yavapai County. At least, not an excuse that her friend and personal secretary, Katherine Hollister, would accept.
The wedding of Maureen Hollister and Gil Hollister, brother to late Joel Hollister, had been months in the making. Family and friends were ecstatic that the widowed matriarch of the family and the man she loved were finally getting married. Everyone wanted to celebrate their happiness. If Prudence didn’t join in, she was going to look like an ass. Along with hurting Katherine’s feelings and those of the whole Hollister family.
The piano suddenly stopped and the officiating pastor opened his Bible in preparation to speak. Behind her, she could hear a few women sniffing, while on down the pew from her a man quietly cleared his throat. Prudence shifted her position on the bench and for no explainable reason, other than to relieve the stiffness in her neck, turned her head slightly and looked across the aisle to where more wedding guests were seated a few rows in front of her.
At that very moment, a man glanced over his shoulder and straight at Prudence. For a fraction of a second, a pair of dark hooded eyes met hers, and then his head turned forward and the contact was broken.
Her curiosity momentarily snared, she allowed her gaze to wander over the dark brown fabric stretched across the backs of his broad shoulders and the unruly waves of crisp black hair edging over the collar of his white shirt.
Who was he? A friend or distant relative of the Hollisters?
The minister suddenly instructed the wedding guests to bow their heads in prayer, and as Prudence complied, she pushed the questions from her mind.
Luke Crawford had attended a few big parties in his time, but none of them could compare to this massive shindig. Even knowing the enormity of Three Rivers Ranch and the magnitude of the Hollisters’ wealth hadn’t prepared him for a wedding reception of this magnitude. Luckily, the dry Arizona climate and the waning sunlight made the outdoor weather perfect for the hundreds of people scattered from the yard at the back of the ranch house all the way to where a fence blocked off access to the working ranch yard.
Driving over to the Fandango and sharing a beer with the ranch hands was the sort of socializing Luke was accustomed to. Not mixing and mingling with wealthy men in tailored suits and women wearing designer dresses and diamonds big enough to blind a guy. But with the Hollister family being his new employer, he felt more than obliged to be standing here among the wedding guests, pretending to enjoy himself.
To Luke’s far right, beneath a cluster of cottonwood trees, dozens of long tables were loaded with an endless assortment of hors d’oeuvres and finger foods, while nearby, three portable bars were serving a variety of drinks, including French champagne. About fifty feet behind Luke, a live band played from a small stage, while couples packed an enormous portable dance floor.
So far, the music had been lively, ranging from country tunes to jazz to romantic standards. But Luke doubted the crowd was paying much attention to the wide variety or the excellence of the band. Ever since the reception had begun, the champagne bottles were being emptied almost as fast as they could be opened. And Luke was close to draining the last of his second round of the bubbly spirit.
Turning slightly, he peered longingly at the distant ranch yard where the horse barn sat directly behind the cattle barn and Blake’s office building.
Too bad foaling season had come and gone. A mare nearing delivery would have given Luke a good reason to be at the barn instead of this wedding reception. What was all the celebrating about, anyway? Hell, he didn’t even believe in marriage. At least, not for himself. He’d seen his father go through too much misery to want the same.
Grimacing at the thought, he decided it was high time to finish the contents in his glass and go in search of a third round when someone from behind barreled straight into him. The jolt was so hard it caused the liquid in the fluted glass to slosh over the edge and onto the snubbed toes of his cowboy boots.
Hell!
Barely managing to hold the word on his tongue, he turned to see the person who’d staggered into him.
Well, I’ll be damned!
The thought raced through his head as he suddenly found himself face-to-face with the beautiful woman. The one he’d spotted briefly during the wedding ceremony.
“Oh, it’s you!” she said.
Apparently, she remembered their eye contact at the church. But the surprised expression on her face wasn’t enough to tell him whether she was annoyed or happy to encounter him again.
“I was sitting in front of you at the wedding—if that’s what you mean,” he told her.
As she carefully regarded him, a waiter passed close to Luke’s right shoulder, and he used the opportunity to place his empty glass on the young man’s tray.
“Yes. That’s what I meant.” She glanced awkwardly toward the crowd of dancers, then back to his face. “I—apologize for knocking into you. My heel must have caught on a rock or something. I hope I didn’t hurt you.”
Back at the church, he’d guessed her eyes to be blue. Now that she was a mere arm’s length away, he could see the luminous orbs were a mixture of blue and green, like a tropical sea washing onto a bed of dark sand. Her dress was pale pink satin with tiny straps and a hem that stopped at the middle of her calves. If it hadn’t been for the lacy shawl wrapped loosely around her shoulders, he would’ve mistaken the dress for a slip or nightgown. One thing was for sure, Luke decided—she looked as sexy as hell in it.
“I’m fine,” he said wryly. “Although I’m not too sure about my boots now that they’ve had a champagne shower.”
Her gaze dropped to his boots and he used the moment to take a survey of her lips. Small, but plush, they were painted a cherry-red color that stood out against her fair skin and light brown hair.
“Oh, your boots—I’m terribly sorry! I—”
The rest of her apology was abruptly halted as a woman in the crowd called out. “Pru! I’ve been looking for you!”
Glancing over his shoulder, Luke spotted Katherine Hollister emerging from a nearby group of guests and hurrying straight toward the two of them. The tall brunette was married to Blake, the eldest of the Hollister siblings, and also the general manager of Three Rivers Ranch. Katherine was all smiles as she came to a stop next to Luke and the brown-haired beauty standing in front of him.
“I see you’ve met Pru already,” she said to Luke.
“Uh—we’ve sort of met,” Luke told Katherine, while darting an awkward glance at the woman. “We just had a bit of a collision.”
“I’m afraid I’ve ruined this man’s boots,” Prudence told her. “And they’re such nice ones, too.”
“I’m sure he and his boots will survive.” Glancing at Luke, Katherine gestured to Prudence. “Luke Crawford, meet Miss Prudence Keyes. And I didn’t get the Miss part wrong. Pru is single.”
“Kat, please!” Prudence muttered under her breath.
Questions were suddenly racing through Luke’s brain. How could a woman who looked like her be unattached? Or perhaps she wasn’t, he thought. Could be she had a partner that Katherine didn’t know about.
Trying to push that disheartening thought aside, Luke extended his hand to the woman, and she promptly slid her palm alongside his.
“It’s a pleasure, Miss Keyes.”
Her hand felt so small and soft that he instinctively cradled it between both his hands rather than grip it with one.
“Nice to meet you, Mr. Crawford,” she said to him. “And I am truly sorry for tripping into you. I’m only glad I didn’t knock you down.”
The husky note in her voice was especially sexy and a total contradiction to her soft, sweet features.
“Luke wrangles horses all day. He’s used to handling twelve-hundred-pound horses. An itty-bitty thing like you couldn’t knock him off his feet,” Katherine explained, before she turned a smile on Luke. “Pru is superintendent for St. Francis Academy in Wickenburg. She also happens to be my boss.”
“And dear friend,” Prudence added.
“Definitely a dear friend,” Katherine agreed, then inclined her head toward Luke. “Luke is our new assistant horse trainer. Can you believe Blake found a man brave enough to work that closely with Holt?”
Prudence looked straight at him and Luke wondered why he felt as if something had struck him between the eyes.
“It’s hard to imagine,” she said. “You must be a brave man. When it comes to his horses, I’ve heard that Holt is terribly particular.”
“I was given that warning before I took the job,” Luke admitted. “But Holt and I get along fine.”
Katherine cast Prudence a coy wink. “That’s because Luke is just as particular. And why the ranch is so lucky to have him.”
From somewhere in the crowd behind them, Blake called to his wife. “Kat! Sorry to interrupt, but we have to go get the twins. The photographer wants a shot of all the grandchildren.”
Katherine let out a good-natured groan. “Oh, this is going to be fun! Two sets of twins, plus eight more kids. See you two later!”
She took off in a hurried stride, and as Luke turned his sole attention to Prudence Keyes, he realized he still had her hand pressed between his.
“Sorry. I’m sure you’d like your hand back.” Hoping he didn’t look as hayseed as he felt, he forced himself to release his hold on her.
“Well, I might need it eventually. To feed and clothe myself—things like that.”
The faint tilt to the corners of her lips told Luke she was teasing. The notion surprised him. It also made him feel ridiculously happy.
“Yes. Those tasks are much easier with two hands,” he impishly agreed, then asked, “How are you enjoying the reception?”
“It’s quite a gathering.” Her head swiveled as she took in the multiple groups of people standing nearby. All of whom appeared to be either laughing and talking, or eating and drinking. “Some of these people I’ve never met before.”
“Like me?”
She smiled and Luke noticed how the expression momentarily sparked her eyes.
“Like you,” she agreed. “Kat hasn’t mentioned Three Rivers hiring a new horse trainer. But with school just getting back into the swing of things, we’ve been very busy. Have you been here long?”
“Six weeks. I’m living here on the ranch in a house down by the river. I think it was originally built years ago, for Maureen’s mother. They tell me she passed on not long after she moved into it.”
She nodded slightly. “I’m familiar with the place. Do you like living in such a secluded area?”
“It’s perfect for me. I’ve always lived in the country. What about you?”
She let out a little laugh. “No, I’m a city girl. Originally from Palm Springs, California. But for the past thirteen years I’ve lived in Wickenburg. From big city to a small-town girl. That’s me.”
“You must like it,” he said. “Thirteen years is a long time.”
“Yes—I like it.”
She let out a long breath that sounded something like a sigh and Luke figured he was probably boring her. In fact, if he wanted to be a real gentleman, he’d excuse himself and allow her to go on her way. But at this very moment he was so transfixed with her that his brain refused to accept the idea of giving up her company.
Grabbing at the first reason he could think of to delay their parting, he asked, “Have you tried the champagne yet?”
“I haven’t had anything to drink or eat. To be honest, I was a bit late getting here. At the last minute, I realized my car needed gas to make the long trip out here to the ranch,” she said, then with a self-deprecating shake of her head added, “Most schoolteachers are hopelessly disorganized, even though we’re supposed to be the exact opposite. That’s why I have Kat. She keeps everything perfectly straight for me.”
“In that case, let’s walk over to the bar,” he suggested. “You can’t be at a wedding reception and miss having champagne. Or would you rather go by the buffet tables first?”
“I’m really not hungry. Something to drink is all I need,” she told him.
She turned in the direction of the bar and Luke gently caught her by the elbow. She paused and looked at him questioningly.
“Uh—I thought I’d better ask if you’re meeting someone here at the reception. I wouldn’t want to interrupt your plans.”
“You mean like a date?” She shook her head. “I’m all alone.”
“You aren’t alone now.” Grinning, he offered her his arm. “You might need something to hold on to. Just in case you trip again.”
Laughing softly, she placed her dainty hand on his forearm and Luke suddenly felt like he was a foot taller. What in the heck was going on with him? Two glasses of champagne were hardly enough to give him a buzz.
“I’ll try not to let that happen,” she said.
He placed his free hand over the one she’d rested on his arm. “Don’t worry. I’ll keep a hold on you.”
Prudence didn’t allow any man to hold her. Not in any way, shape or form. Yet here she was walking through the reception crowd with Luke Crawford’s hand resting warmly over hers.
No. The man’s hand wasn’t just warm, she mentally corrected herself. It was as hot as the Arizona sun in mid-July. Only this wasn’t July. It was the beginning of September and the cool evening air was already drifting over the ranch yard. But it was hardly enough to chill the sparks of fire that seemed to be shooting from his hand and traveling all the way up her arm.
What was wrong with her, anyway? She should’ve already given Luke Crawford a polite goodbye and lost herself in the crowd. But she’d been stunned when she’d recognized his was the face her eyes had locked onto in the church. And then when he’d made a sandwich of her hand, she’d been so captivated she couldn’t do much more than stammer out a few inane words.
As they walked along, she peeked at him from the corner of her eye. Just to see if he actually looked as good as he had a few minutes ago, or if the golden sunset was playing tricks with her eyesight.
Now that the wedding party had moved here to the ranch, he’d donned a black cowboy hat that rode low on his forehead and covered the top portion of his thick black hair. His angular face was dominated by amber-brown eyes hooded beneath black brows, while hard, masculine lips set over a stubborn dented chin. Like most men who worked outdoors in the Southwest, he was darkly tanned, but she had the feeling that part of his brown coloring came from Native American descent. The high slanted cheekbones and hawkish nose certainly hinted at the notion. In any case, the man was too sexy for his own good and definitely too sexy for her peace of mind.
“Here we are,” he said as the two of them finally managed to work their way up to the bar. “Would you like champagne or something nonalcoholic?”
Being in his company was already causing her head to swim. She hardly needed alcohol to make the whirling sensation any worse. But Luke was right about one thing: a person could hardly attend a wedding reception without consuming a bit of champagne. Besides, if she was lucky, it would settle her jangled nerves and allow her to behave like a reserved woman, rather than a ditzy schoolgirl.
“I’ll take champagne,” she told him.
After the bartender promptly served them each a glass of the bubbly wine, Luke suggested they find a spot to sit and enjoy their drinks.
“I’m not sure my boots can take another soaking,” he added with a wink.
Prudence laughed under her breath and was promptly taken aback by her carefree reaction. She didn’t have this sort of playful exchange with men. Not since she’d discovered how easily a man could cheat and lie and then expect a woman to forgive him.
Those dark, sad days are long gone, Prudence. For heaven’s sake, you’re at a wedding reception. Can’t you at least pretend to be happy?
Pushing the annoying voice out of her head, she smiled up at him. “I’ll be sure to watch my step.”
“I see a spot over there beneath that tree.” He inclined his head toward a large cottonwood not far from the rope barrier that separated the guests from the working ranch yard. “That is, if you don’t mind sitting on a hay bale.”
“Not at all. It’s covered with a blanket.”
As they began to work their way through the crowd, Prudence was acutely aware of his hand resting lightly against the small of her back and the faint scent of sage and evergreen drifting from his jacket. Compared to her five foot three inches, he towered over her, and she guessed him to be at least six foot one, or perhaps even more. And she didn’t have to see him without his clothing to know that he was all long, lean muscle. But then, she’d probably never see Luke Crawford without clothing. Not in her lifetime.
Once they reached the tree, the guests were few and far between and the band was somewhat muted.
“Ahh. This is a little nicer for talking,” he said. “I love music, but a lower decibel would make it better.”
Nodding, she said, “There was a time Mom or Dad would come to the bedroom I shared with my sister and order us to turn down the volume on the radio. But that was years ago. And anyway, I don’t think teenagers listen to a regular radio nowadays.”
He laughed and Prudence decided the raspy tone was just as pleasant as his voice.
“I still listen to a regular radio,” he admitted. “In the morning, that is, when I’m cooking my breakfast. To hear the ag market report. Ranchers like to hear what’s happening in the market with livestock and crops. Especially hay and grain prices.”
With an empty ring finger and no mention of a wife or children, it was fairly obvious the man wasn’t married. She couldn’t gauge his age exactly, but she’d guess it was several years younger than her. He was certainly at the age where most men were getting married and starting families. The notion had her wondering if he had a special lady tucked away somewhere, or even several ladies.
Damn it, Pru, why do you think all men are serial cheaters? Take the Hollister brothers, for example. None of them would ever cheat on their wives. Just because your ex was a no-account adulterer doesn’t mean Luke Crawford is a womanizer.
Attending a wedding always affected Prudence in the worst kind of way. For days afterward, she’d be tormented with the nagging voice in her head, along with memories of her failed marriage. Images of Gavin’s guilty face would flash through her mind. Along with all his whispered lies of how he’d love her forever.
Shoving mightily at the dark thoughts, she took a seat on the hay bale and waited for Luke to join her before she spoke.
“You sound much older than you look.”
He chuckled. “Is that supposed to be a compliment?”
She smiled. “You can take it that way if you’d like. I only meant you seem wise for your age.”
“I’m thirty-one. Not that young. I’m really not that wise, either,” he added with a wry grin. “I just try to sound that way when I’m in the company of a pretty woman.”
She bit back a sigh. “I’m thirty-nine.”
The brow over his left eye arched upward. “You make it sound like a curse.”
She very nearly laughed. “Did I? Well, I was trying to imagine how it would feel to be thirty-one again.”
The smile on his face deepened and Prudence noticed that a faint dimple dented his right cheek. No doubt plenty of women had kissed that charming little crease.
Shocked that such a silly thought had entered her head, she quickly tilted the stemmed glass to her lips. The champagne was cold and fruity and fizzed on her tongue.
Maybe after a few more sips, she’d quit behaving like a fool and tell Mr. Crawford good-night. But why would she want to do that when he was being a gentleman and she was...? Well, just looking at him was like eating rich chocolate. A woman couldn’t stop with just one piece.
“If you were my age you’d feel good—just like I do,” he teased.
Smiling wanly, she said, “I get the impression you like working for the Hollisters.”
He crossed his ankles out in front of him and Prudence found her gaze drawn to his long legs and how the fabric of his trousers molded to his thighs. No doubt spending long hours in the saddle kept them hard and lean. Unlike the bulky muscled athletic coaches at St. Francis.
“It’s long hours and lots of work,” he replied. “But it’s a dream job. I couldn’t be happier to be here at Three Rivers.”
“Where were you working before you moved here?” she asked curiously, then shook her head. “I’m getting too personal.”
He shrugged. “Not at all. For the past seven years I worked for the T Bar T. That’s a ranch near Clovis, New Mexico. Before that I lived in Deaf Smith County in Texas. That’s where I’m from originally.”
She sipped more of the champagne and tried not to notice that his knee was only an inch or two from hers. “Oh, so you’re originally a Texan migrating west.”
“Trust me, this is as far west as I’m going,” he replied. “To be honest, I took the job without knowing what this area of Arizona was really like. I was thrilled when it turned out to be beautiful.”
When Prudence had first moved to Wickenburg, it had taken her a long time to appreciate the beauty of the surrounding area. She’d been too busy trying to mend a crushed heart and convincing herself that she could recover from being a fool. “Yes, it has a stark, wild beauty. I wouldn’t live anywhere else,” she said, then glanced at him. “I’m guessing that you’ve always liked horses.”
He nodded. “My dad is a horse trainer. I learned everything from him. He learned the trade from his dad. Granddad was a full-blood Comanche and horses have always been a big part of the tribe’s history. He was like a true horse whisperer.”
“Does your grandfather still do that kind of work?”
“No. He passed on about ten years ago. Complications from diabetes. But Dad still trains for a large ranch near Canyon. That’s a town just east of Deaf Smith County where we all used to live.”
“We. You mean you and your family?”
He glanced out toward the milling crowd, then lifted his glass and drained most of the contents.
“Yeah. Me and my younger brother and our parents. We had a little ranch with enough acreage for Dad to raise a few horses. He sold the property some years back, though. The place never was the same after we lost Mom.”
As he spoke, his features had become drawn, and though his remark had left her curious, Prudence was hesitant to ask him to explain what he meant by “lost.” They were at a joyful party. Hardly the place to bring up a sad memory. Besides, she barely knew the man. His personal life was none of her business.
She was about to change the subject completely when he suddenly spoke.
“She died in a car accident. She and Dad were on their way home one night and the pickup truck he was driving lost control. It killed Mom instantly. She was only thirty-eight at the time. Dad ended up losing a leg just below the knee.”
Prudence was not only shocked by his story; she was also stunned by how much it affected her. Luke must have gone through so much grief. Not only over losing his mother, but also with the trauma of his father losing part of a limb. “How tragic for you—for your whole family,” she murmured. Then she offered on an encouraging note, “But if your father is still training horses, it sounds like he didn’t let the loss of his leg keep him down.”
He smiled and Prudence was relieved to see his happy mood returning.
“Dad is as tough as a boot. You’d never know he wears a prosthetic. I’ve always wanted to be the man he is, but I’m far from there yet.”
Prudence wondered if he was talking about living up to his father’s skill with horses, or simply the man himself.
“What about your brother?” she asked. “Is he in the horse business, too?”
Grinning now, he said, “It’s in the Crawford blood, I guess. Colt works for the same ranch where I worked before I moved here.”
“Oh, I imagine he was sad to see you leave.”
“Not really. He was happy to see me moving up the ladder, so to speak.” He finished the last of his champagne, and with the empty glass pressed between both palms, he glanced at her. “You mentioned you have a sister. Is she anything like you?”
Prudence shot him an impish smile. “Not in the least. She’s very pretty and bubbly and far more adventurous than me. She thinks her older sister is a stuffed shirt.”
“Are you?” he asked.
Was she imagining it, or had his face dipped a tad closer to hers? It must have, she decided. A moment ago, she couldn’t see the pores in his tanned skin or the brown flecks in his amber eyes. But she could see them now. Along with the faint vertical lines in his lips and the dark shadow of whiskers on his chin and jawline.
Suddenly, her heart couldn’t make up its mind as to whether it wanted to stop completely or take off in a wild sprint. Either way, the erratic beats were drumming in her ears, sending out a warning signal to put some space between her and this mesmerizing man.
“Uh—not exactly. I’m just a careful person. It pays to be that way, you know.”
She gulped down the rest of her champagne, then practically jumped to her feet. “I should be getting back to the party. Kat is probably wondering where I’ve gotten off to.”
Rising along with her, he said, “With all the family and friends Katherine has, I doubt you’ll see her the rest of the night.”
He was probably right about Katherine being occupied with family and the multitude of other guests. Still, Prudence could see she’d be asking for trouble if she continued to hang around here in the twilight with Luke Crawford. She didn’t know what it was about him, but he was doing something to her common sense. Like making her forget she had any.
She looked in the direction of the partygoers as she tried to come up with an excuse to shake his company. But nothing reasonable came to mind, and then his hand was suddenly folding around hers and she forgot all about being sensible.
“I think it’s high time you and I go join the party and the music. Surely there’s room enough for two more on the dance floor.”
“You want to dance with me?”
He must have found the disbelief in her voice amusing, or maybe it was the shocked O that had formed on her lips. He gave a slight chuckle and asked, “Why not? You do know how, don’t you?”
Lord, she couldn’t remember the last time she’d taken anything close to a dance step. Not since Mr. Roberts, a science teacher, had tried to waltz her around the gymnasium floor during a faculty Christmas party. And that had been more than three years ago.
“Sort of. I mean, I haven’t done any dancing since college and I’m th—”
“Yes, I know—you’re thirty-nine years old,” he interrupted with a chuckle. “That means it’s high time you got back into the swing of things.”
He plucked the empty glass from her hand and placed it next to his on the hay bale, then tucked his arm around the back of her waist.
“Come on,” he urged. “The night is just getting started.”
Snugged in the crook of his arm, Prudence walked along at his side, and the closer they grew to the music and the sound of laughter, she was struck by a strange premonition that something more than the night was just getting started. Was it another heartache for her? Or a new beginning?
Copyright © 2021 by Stella Bagwell