Burke Kincaid had already broken it clean in two.
“Are you gonna marry me?” Wes’s voice finally drew her gaze. Tears blurred her vision and thickened her throat as she stared into his blue eyes. “Are you?” he repeated.
“I—I mean—I thought. But now I d-don’t—” Since stammering was getting her nowhere, she clamped her mouth shut and shrugged helplessly.
“Are you gonna marry him?” Wes asked.
Her gaze shifted from one man to the other. Burke was watching her. His eyes appeared dark from here, his hair mussed, his features striking and strong. Certain her face was beet red, she shrugged all over again.
“Hot dang, Stryker,” Boomer Brown declared from the second row. “It looks like your competin’ days ain’t over after all.”
“That’s right,” someone else declared.
“Yee-haw! Who said nothin’ ever happens in small towns? This has all the makings of a mighty interesting season.”
The dazed expression Wes usually wore these days broke for an instant, a smile spreading across his tired features as he faced the Jasper Gents. “I’m beginning to think this might just be exactly what the doctor ordered.”
“Well, what do ya know about that,” somebody else murmured loud enough for Louetta to hear. “The girl voted most likely not to by her graduating class has two—count ’em—two suitors.”
“Oh, my,” Louetta whispered, searching frantically for a place to sit down while she still had control of her feet.
“Oh, dear,” Isabell Pruitt called in her shrill, nasal voice. “I do believe Louetta is going to faint. Jed, let her have your chair. Hurry.”
Louetta sank into the chair and immediately bent over, placing her head between her knees. “There, there,” Isabell assured her, patting her arm. “That’s it. Take a deep breath. Now another. Oh, I wish your mother were here. She’d have her smelling salts with her. Doc Masey!”
Louetta felt the usual stab of pain at the mention of her mother, but since Isabell missed Opal as much as she did, Louetta tipped her head to one side and said, “I’m pretty sure Mother took her smelling salts with her to heaven. It’s all right, Isabell, I think the worst is over.”
Louetta’s voice sounded distant in her own ears, but her vision was starting to clear and she could feel her heart rate returning to normal. She sat up tentatively, and wavered Isabell a feeble smile.
That’s it, Louetta told herself. You can make it through this without causing a bigger scene.
Mind reeling, she vowed to hold herself together until the meeting ended. Then she would take the time to have the nervous breakdown she deserved. First, she would have to find the strength to send Burke on his way. Maybe then things would get back to normal. She would run her newly purchased diner, spend time with her friends, attend Ladies Aid Society meetings, organize the annual Christmas pageant and consider marrying a man she didn’t love.
That’s it. Take a deep breath. Now another. As soon as this meeting was over, she would tell Burke what she thought of him and his unannounced visit. After that, she would make her way up to her apartment. She would close the door, turn out the lights and pull the blankets over her head.
Luckily, Jasper Gulch town meetings rarely took long. Luke Carson was calling for order right now. Just as she’d thought, old business was taken care of in a matter of minutes. An argument broke out between Bonnie Trumble, who owned Bonnie’s Clip & Curl, and Edith Ferguson, who thought the town should adopt an ordinance concerning the use of certain colors of paint on the buildings lining Main Street. “The beauty parlor is neon green!” Edith exclaimed. “Why, it’s despicable.”
Personally, Louetta liked the new color. It had punch. It had pizzazz. It had personality. It got a person’s attention without saying a word. As a woman who had been a wallflower her entire life, Louetta liked those qualities, even if the beauty shop did stick out like a sore thumb. Thankfully, the issue was tabled until the following month, which meant that the meeting was nearly over.
“Now,” Luke Carson called from the front of the room, “before we adjourn, Doc Masey has something he’d like to say. Doc?”
Chairs creaked as folks folded their arms at their chests and shifted their positions. Louetta stifled a moan, because as much as she loved the old doctor, the man was notorious for making a long story unbearable. She hoped he decided to make an exception tonight. Taking his white handkerchief from his pocket, he began polishing his wire-rimmed spectacles. When he started in about how he’d been a doctor in this town for nigh on fifty years, Louetta closed her eyes and sighed.
Before he’d gotten halfway into his tale of how he’d brought Neil Anderson into the world during a blizzard in ’58, Cletus McCully interrupted. “Doc, I swear you could talk the ears off a deaf man. I ain’t necessarily gonna live forever, ya know. Would you get to the point?”
Another time Louetta might have smiled, but she glanced over her shoulder, straight into Burke’s eyes, and she couldn’t have smiled if her life had depended upon it.
“Burke,” Doc called. “Come on up here, would ya?”
What could Burke possibly have to do with Doc Masey?
Like the quiet before the storm, silence filled the room. Surely Louetta’s heart wasn’t the only one thumping a little wildly at the way Burke carried himself, at the width of his shoulders, the fit of his black pants. However, it was highly likely that she was the only woman who averted her eyes.
“As you all know,” Doc Masey declared, “I’ve been searching for a replacement for a few years now. I’m pleased to say I’ve found one. Looks like he got the jump on me, but I like a man who knows his own mind. Folks, I’d like you to meet my new partner, Dr. Burke Kincaid.”
Louetta’s head came up, her heart rising to her throat. “What did Doc say?” she asked Lisa McCully, the young woman sitting next to her.
“It looks like Doc Masey’s taken on one of your fiancés as a new partner,” Lisa whispered.
“One of my—”
A freight train sounded in Louetta’s ears. The lights went dim, her muscles turned to liquid. And she keeled over in a deep faint.
Louetta came to amid a blur of faces and a whir of voices.
“She fainted, you say?”
“Is she gonna be all right?”
“How would I know? I ain’t no doctor.”
“There’s no need to snap my head off.”
“Boys, would you give me a little room?”
Louetta recognized Doc Masey’s voice. Although she couldn’t quite make out the two cowboys who were stepping out of the way, she could see Isabell hovering over her right shoulder, Doc Masey over her left. Burke’s and Wes’s faces were inches apart, and someone—a quick glance at the masculine hand touching her wrist told her it was Burke—was taking her pulse.
“Are you all right?” His voice was edged in velvet, just as it had been that night two and a half years ago.
“Of course she’s all