“He left last night,” the sheriff said, and Daisy wondered if John Lopez Mathison had stopped by to see every single denizen of this town to say goodbye—except for her.
“Yes, I’ve heard,” Daisy said.
“Not coming back, either,” the sheriff continued. “Jane, can I get some of your delicious double-dipped chicken-fried steak and mashed red potatoes with gravy? Maybe chase it with a slice of your four-layer chocolate cake?”
“Gracious,” Cosette said, “are you looking to have a four-alarm cardiac event, Dennis?”
“Just hungry, ladies.” He pushed back his worn Stetson with a grin. “Sitting up late at night with the fellows, having a good gossip and four-tissue wheeze gives a man an appetite.”
Jane eyed him with great curiosity. “A four-tissue wheeze requires a slice of four-layer chocolate cake?”
“Yes, ma’am.” Dennis nodded. “Squint was really working on my ear holes. As were Sam, Phillipe and Robert Donovan.”
“I don’t believe a word of it,” Cosette said. “I can’t see you five ever getting together for a rooster session.”
“It happened,” Dennis said cheerfully. “The first order of business was Squint requesting that we call him John from here on. After all, Squint was his military name, and he’s gone back to being a cowboy. So, John it is. But the big news of the evening was Robert Donovan announcing he feels greatly that his daughter, our Daisy here,” he said, winking at Daisy, “needs a man.”
“What?” Daisy shook her head. “My father would never say such a thing. I’m with Cosette. This gathering never took place.”
“He wants a man to settle you here in town, far away from the influence of whatever is happening in Montana,” Dennis continued, untroubled by the ladies’ disbelief. “And I said there was no such man to do the job in this small town.”
“And?” Jane demanded, not leaving to put in the sheriff’s order, Daisy noticed. When the gossip was flying hot and steamy, food took a backseat. “What was said to Robert’s grand pronouncement?”
Dennis shrugged, very much enjoying being the center of the ladies’ attention. “John said he agreed with me, and—”
“What?” Daisy stiffened. “How dare he?”
They all looked at her.
“How dare he, what, dear?” Jane asked.
“How dare John agree with my father?” Daisy thought the former Squint Mathison might have reached a new level of annoying.
“Most folks rather agree with Robert,” Cosette said, nodding.
“So what happened then?” Jane demanded.
“Could you put my order in before I tell you the rest?” Dennis asked, rubbing his stomach regretfully. “I didn’t have breakfast.”
“Sing for your supper, Sheriff,” Jane shot back.
“Well, I was pretty proud of my two cents, I don’t mind saying,” Dennis said. “And then Sam said that he didn’t think even he had the necessary talent to pull off the job.”
“What job?” Daisy asked, her heart beginning an emergency tattoo. It sounded as if all the important men in her life—notwithstanding Sam Barr, otherwise known as Handsome Sam, and understood by all to be a trickster and prankster beyond compare—had clubbed together and cast her to the wind. “Pardon me, but I’m having great trouble seeing my father and my...my—”
“Your what, dear?” Jane Chatham asked, her eyes twinkling with interest.
“My...good friend John,” Daisy said, covering herself. “I have trouble seeing the two of them agreeing on anything, but certainly my father wouldn’t spend any time discussing my love life with my—”
“With your good friend John,” Cosette said. “Yes, yes, yes, we heard all that.”
“And yet, it happened,” Sheriff Dennis said. “Now may I have that supper for which I sang like a many-feathered bird?”
“Not really,” Daisy said as Jane and Cosette nodded in agreement that the sheriff hadn’t quite imparted sufficiently satisfactory details. Daisy’s heart rate was still revving as she began to realize that the men had sold her out and the one she’d been spending delicious nights with had slipped out without saying a word to her. “What was the point of this male bonding?”
The sheriff smiled. “You know how it is when we fellows get together. We just hash out life, come to no solutions and feel like we’ve accomplished something.”
“A solution was achieved if John’s gone,” Daisy said.
“He is gone,” Dennis said. “Said something about returning to his home.”
“He doesn’t have a home,” Jane said, “other than the Hanging H, which is his home now.”
“Oh, he has a home,” Dennis said, “it’s just not one you and I would really think of as one. His is on the rodeo circuit.”
“All the men say that,” Cosette said, huffing out a breath impatiently. “They always claim rodeo is their hearth, heart and home.”
“In John’s case, it’s true.” Dennis looked wistfully toward the kitchen. “His family is now heading toward Santa Fe, apparently, hauling along the family domicile. Rather like a circus train, I suppose.”
“What in the world are you talking about?” Cosette demanded.
“John’s family follows the rodeo. That’s how they make their living.” Dennis shrugged. “His mom’s a cowboy preacher, and his dad and brothers are bullfighters and barrel men, going back generations. They’ve got a little motor home that they go from town to town in.”
“Rather a gypsy-ish lifestyle, isn’t it?” Jane asked, and Daisy’s heart sank. Just hearing this description of John’s home life made her realize that he might, conceivably, never darken the doors of Bridesmaids Creek again.
“Yep,” Dennis said, “and he’s not coming back. Not anytime soon, anyway.”
There was no way she could let that happen. Not after she’d finally come to her senses, after all the many moons of not realizing what a catch Squint—John—really was, hiding under all that brown-eyed, gentle bear exterior. Daisy swallowed hard, realizing the people sitting around the table were studying her, waiting silently for her to speak up.
Maybe it did serve her right to have John desert her for good after the many times he’d tried to win her. But she wasn’t the kind of woman who gave up—in fact, there were some who said that adversity only strengthened her will.
“You realize, Daisy, there won’t be a race run or a swim swum for you,” Jane said gently. “I’m afraid you threw away your three chances.”
“She didn’t throw them away,” Cosette said, her eyes softening as she looked at Daisy. Daisy felt this was very sweet of Cosette, especially as much of Cosette’s hard luck was Daisy’s fault. “She merely misplaced her three chances. Magic is never gone forever.”
Daisy paused. Of course. She was a Bridesmaids Creek girl, even if she’d come to town late, at the age of three. The magic would still work for her—it had to.
Because John made love to her like no man ever could, and it might have taken her way too long to realize it, but she knew in every corner of her heart that she was in love with him.
“I’m going to need help,” Daisy said softly. “I could really use some assistance in figuring out the right way to convince John that leaving Bridesmaids Creek wasn’t his