“Hey, Ashby, you do not look so good,” Lacy said, sitting in the shampoo chair, thumbing through a salon supply brochure.
“You sure don’t,” Sheri agreed.
The room grew still as everyone paused and stared. “I’m fine,” Ashby said, and sat down in the chair by the door.
“You’re not still upset about the spring festival, are you?” Esther Mae asked. “I just can’t believe you didn’t let that cutie-pie Dan give you a ride on the bike. That was the whole reason for the race. Why, me and my Hank used to love to ride around like that.”
“Leave her be, Esther Mae. She must have had her reasons,” Norma Sue said, adding dryly, “though not any I can figure out.”
So much for the support, Ashby thought as Norma Sue eyeballed her.
“On the other hand,” she added, “that was supposed to be an enjoyable adventure. I never in all of my days saw a person look as gloomy as you did when you limped into town.”
“She had her reasons,” Adela said, and Ashby gave her a grateful smile.
“I’m sorry I disappointed all of you. But the point is, I should never have been in that race. Especially paired up with Dan—”
“But the man is perfect for you.”
Ashby stared at Esther Mae, too mystified by the observation to even gather a coherent defense. Her blood pressure escalated just thinking about him.
Esther Mae snapped a handful of pea pods in half as if to punctuate her shocking statement. “You should ask Dan out on a date.”
Ashby’s mouth fell open and chuckles erupted from every corner of the room.
“First off,” she managed to reply, “I would never ask a man out on a date. And second, if I did, it certainly wouldn’t be Dan.”
“Well, I just don’t understand you,” Esther Mae said. “He is such a sweet boy.”
“He’s shallow and irresponsible,” Ashby countered. She wanted to tell them she’d had the misfortune of being drawn to his kind, but she couldn’t bring herself to shine that light on her failures. It wasn’t easy telling others that the man she’d trusted and believed in had betrayed her. It was humiliating enough. Besides, she’d learned her lesson well. Flirts couldn’t be trusted. Men like Steven…She pushed him from her thoughts. She didn’t like thinking back. Instead she focused on Dan. “He flirts with everyone. It’s as if he thinks that flashing that gorgeous smile of his will have women eating out of his hand!”
“It is a gorgeous smile,” Esther Mae said. “Swashbuckling pirate. That’s what I think when he flashes it.”
Ashby felt heat flush her cheeks at the picture Esther Mae painted. “Why in the world would all of you think he and I could be more than antagonists? I frustrate him and he irritates me.”
Esther Mae harrumphed. “You can’t tell me you aren’t attracted to him—”
“Esther Mae,” Norma Sue said. “Leave the girl be. She just doesn’t see it yet.”
Ashby could see fine. It appeared they were the ones in need of an eye exam…or maybe a head exam. “Dan Dawson is not husband material,” she said. This was the very group of ladies she’d hoped would help her find a mate, and it was very disconcerting to realize how off base they were. It was a discouraging blow to know that she was on her own, a situation that had never worked out before. She could not trust her own judgment when it came to men. She was afraid to. She’d believed in Steven and she never saw his betrayal coming. She needed help, but even God seemed to have decided to be silent on this issue.
“You don’t have the right impression of Dan,” Norma Sue said, drawing Ashby back from her morose thoughts.
“You certainly don’t,” Esther Mae agreed. “Exactly our reasoning behind tweaking the bike race so y’all would be together. Never underestimate the power of sparks.”
Lacy waved her hands. “Okay, enough picking on Ashby. We called you down here to get your opinion on my new idea. You know we have a rodeo coming up in a couple of weeks, and we’ve been racking our brains for a new fund-raiser. The proceeds are going into the emergency fund for the shelter.”
Ashby looked at them with leery eyes. “It doesn’t involve me, bikes or Dan Dawson, does it?”
“Only if you want it to.” Lacy chuckled. “It’s a pig scramble.”
Everyone but Ashby squealed in obvious delight at the very thought of such a thing.
She slowly scanned the room. “Could you elaborate on the term ‘pig scramble’? Remember, I’m not a country girl.”
Lacy’s expertly shagged hair did a jig with her laughter. “It’s where we grease up a small pig, let it loose in the arena, and whoever catches it wins the scramble. Doesn’t that sound like a hoot and a half?”
Oh, Ashby got it. They were playing a joke on her; that’s what this was all about. They were all waiting to see her reaction, before telling her their real idea. But a closer look at their expressions confirmed that they weren’t joking.
Mule Hollow was about to have itself a pig scramble.
The expectant expressions surrounding her gave Ashby a bad feeling. “Oh no! Don’t even think about conning me into this like you did that bike race,” she said. “The day I scramble for a pig will be the day pigs fly!”
That killed them. Lacy and Sheri especially got so tickled that Ashby felt insulted. “Why the hysterical laughter?” she asked.
Sheri fanned herself. “Don’t be silly. We knew you wouldn’t scramble for a pig. The very idea is hilarious. We just wanted you to help us raise the donations. You have such a mind for business, we thought we’d run it by you, is all.”
Ashby vaguely heard the last part of what Sheri said. “How did you know I wouldn’t scramble for a pig?”
Sheri didn’t even bat an eye. “I told them you wouldn’t ride on the handlebars of a bike, and I was right. If you won’t join the rest of us when we look silly doing something like that, then it doesn’t take a genius to know you’re not going to get down and dirty in the mud with a pig. No matter how much of a blast it’ll be.”
Lacy winced almost apologetically. “Especially since it is going to be a spectator sport. You know none of the guys would miss something like this.”
There was actually a hint of a dare in Lacy’s words. Trap ahead was ringing in Ashby’s brain, but she ignored it. Why? Because nothing bothered her nearly as much as what Sheri had just said. Ashby had an instant visual of the smug little group of cowboys, including Dan Dawson, discussing who would and who wouldn’t get in the pen with a pig.
Even a lonesome cowboy isn’t desperate enough to marry a gal so knotted up she can’t have fun. Dan’s words had been playing in her head like a broken record over the last couple of weeks. Knotted up… Yes, she knew she was. She also knew that this was her chance to get unknotted once and for all. Her mother would cringe at her word choice. “So what does one have to do to get in this pig scramble?” Did she just ask that?
“Well, this is what we thought,” Lacy said. “There’s going to be so many gals wanting to get in that arena they won’t all fit. We think it would be great to make the entry a competition. The ten gals who sell the most tickets and raise the most money get the privilege of scrambling for the pig. What do you think?”
“I’m determined to be one,” Sheri said, with a gleam in her eyes. “I’ve