GLEN SAT AT THE BREAKFAST table and stared glumly at the kitchen wall, sipping his coffee. It was barely five and he was already on his third cup.
Cal ambled down the stairs, yawning loudly. “You’re up early,” he muttered as he headed for the coffeepot.
Glen didn’t tell his brother that he hadn’t been to sleep yet. He’d gone to bed and closed his eyes, but it’d done no good. He’d finally gotten up at three-thirty and sat waiting for the tightness in his chest to go away so he could breathe without this pain.
“You feeling all right?” Cal asked.
His brother was more awake than Glen had given him credit for. “I’m fine.”
Cal leaned against the kitchen counter, holding his coffee mug with both hands, and studied Glen.
“I said I was fine,” Glen said a bit more gruffly than he intended. He wasn’t up to talking. In time the details would come out, the same way they had when Jennifer canceled the wedding. Cal had been tight-lipped for weeks, then gradually, bit by bit, Glen had pieced it all together until he had a fairly accurate picture of the events that led up to the final scene.
Cal’s face seemed to darken. “It doesn’t seem either one of us is the marrying kind,” he said, then pushed away from the counter and left the house.
His eyes burning from lack of sleep, Glen toyed with the idea of taking the day off, but instinctively realized that would be his worst choice. He needed to stay busy. Otherwise thoughts of Ellie and Richard would drive him crazy.
Downing the last of his coffee, he followed Cal.
The day dragged. Glen had never felt wearier in body and spirit. By late afternoon he knew the only way to find peace was to seek out Richard Weston and congratulate him. Then he’d talk to Ellie and wish her and Richard every happiness. He was sincere about that; he loved her enough to want her to have a good life.
He didn’t tell Cal where he was going when he was finished for the day. Nor did he bother to shower or shave.
Cal had just ridden in when Glen was ready to leave.
“Did Ellie mention anything about the wire cutters I ordered?” Cal asked, stopping him.
Glen froze at the mention of her name. He might as well get used to it. She was as much a part of his everyday life as this ranch.
“I’ll ask her if you want,” Glen said.
Cal looked as if he wanted to say something, but hesitated. Then, “I didn’t mean… I forgot.”
“Don’t worry about it. Frasier’s has been our supplier for a lot of years and I don’t think we should change things now.” He was man enough to accept being rejected, or he’d like to believe he was, anyway.
Ellie, ever sensitive and thoughtful, was probably worried about him. That would be just like her. Glen didn’t want her to think her decision had ruined their relationship. They could still be friends. Sort of. Not the way they’d been in the past but…friendly.
Glen headed for the Weston place. He found Richard loading supplies into the back of Grady’s pickup when he arrived. The other man looked mildly surprised when Glen sought him out. He stood there with a case of canned goods balanced on his shoulder, his stance defensive.
“You wanted to talk to me?” Richard asked.
“I came to congratulate you.” No need to hedge. This wasn’t a conversation he relished having, and the sooner he’d finished the better.
“Congratulate me?” Richard echoed. “Did I win the lottery and someone forgot to tell me?”
Glen didn’t appreciate the joke. “In a manner of speaking.”
Richard leaned forward and dumped the box onto the open tailgate. “What’s up, Patterson?”
“It’s about you and Ellie.”
Richard scowled. “What about us?”
“I understand you asked her to marry you.”
“What of it?”
“I also understand that she’s accepted.”
Richard had started to remove his gloves, one finger at a time. His head snapped up at Glen’s statement. “Ellie’s a hell of a woman, isn’t she? I didn’t realize she’d decided to let the word out.” He nudged Glen with his elbow. “But then, that’s just like my Ellie.”
My Ellie. The words hurt like alcohol on a cut, and Glen flinched before he could hide his reaction. Recovering quickly, he forced a smile. “I couldn’t agree with you more,” he said. “Ellie’s one of a kind.”
Richard slapped him hard on the back. “I guess you could say the best man won.”
‘Yeah, I guess you could say that,” Glen answered, clenching his teeth.
“I don’t suppose she happened to mention a wedding date, did she?” He laughed. “Seems the groom’s always the last to know.”
“Can’t say as she did.”
“It’ll be soon, if I have anything to say about it.” Richard hopped onto the tailgate, his legs dangling. “The wedding will be a small intimate affair right here in Savannah’s rose garden. Family and a few friends. You’re invited of course.”
“Thank you.”
“Hey, no problem.” Richard began whistling; Glen might not have much of an ear for music; but he recognized the “Wedding March.”
He tried not to let it distract him. “I want to wish you both every happiness,” he said formally.
“That’s good of you, Glen, and I appreciate it. I’m sure Ellie will, too.” Richard thrust out his hand. “I realize it was difficult for you to lose her, but I want you to know, I plan to make Ellie happy. The two of us would like to consider you a friend.”
“I hope you will.” This was what made Richard so damn difficult to understand, Glen mused. One minute he was a jackass; the next, he was a regular joe. “If you need anything, give me a call,” he offered.
“I will.”
Glen climbed back into his pickup. Despite his dislike of Richard, he felt better for having cleared the air between them. Although he’d dreaded talking to the guy, he was glad now that he had.
He hoped everything would go as well with Ellie.
The ache in his gut intensified as he drove into town. When he entered the feed store, she was ringing up a sale for Lyle Whitehouse. She didn’t notice Glen until she handed Lyle his package. Her hand froze in midair and she gaped at him as if she couldn’t believe her eyes. Recovering quickly, she released the bag.
Lyle turned around, and when he saw Glen, he grinned broadly. Then he winked and gave him a thumbs-up as he walked out of the store.
“Hello, Glen,” Ellie said tentatively.
“Ellie.” He nodded once. “Cal wanted me to ask you about those wire cutters he ordered.”
“They won’t be in until Monday,” she said, sounding oddly breathless.
“I’ll tell him.” He felt awkward and tongue-tied again, the way he had when he proposed. He waited a moment, just staring at her. “I have a few things to say. Is now a good time?”
“As good as any,” she said stiffly. She remained on her side of the counter while he stayed on the other.
Damn she was beautiful. That wasn’t the kind of thing he should be thinking, he told himself, and glanced away. “First, all I really want is for you to be happy.”
“I am happy,” she said a little too loudly.
“Good.”
Ellie moved out from behind the cash register and started restacking blocks of salt.
“I was hoping we could remain friendly,” he said, moving up behind her.
“I was hoping that, too.”
Glen raised his hands to place them on her shoulders, the need to touch her almost impossible to resist. He paused, then with unprecedented determination dropped his arms to his sides. He had no right to touch Ellie anymore. She was engaged to another man.
“You’ve been my closest and dearest friend,” she whispered and turned to face him. “I don’t know what I would’ve done without you when Dad was so terribly ill…and since.”
Glen wasn’t sure if she’d come toward him or if he’d stepped toward her, but all at once they were standing
mere inches apart. Their eyes avoided meeting, but their slow labored breathing seemed to keep pace.
“I needed you,” she whispered, “and you were there for me.”
Again he reminded himself that she was engaged to Richard, and yet all he could think about was kissing her one last time. Just one kiss, to tell her goodbye, to wish her well.
Everything within him yearned for her. It seemed natural to stand this close; it seemed even more natural to hold her, but he managed to resist. He mustn’t feel these things any longer, mustn’t allow himself to look at her this way. Mustn’t kiss her again.
His heart went wild when Ellie stepped into his arms. When she raised her lips to his. Her kiss nearly buckled his knees. It began as a simple, almost chaste touch, her warm mouth on his. Unfortunately it didn’t stay chaste long. Glen slipped his arm around her waist and against every dictate of common sense, urged her closer. If this was to be their last kiss, then he’d make sure it was one they’d both remember.
The kiss spoke far more eloquently of his need and love for her than any words he’d ever uttered. Ellie moaned and he cradled her face with both hands. The kiss grew molten-hot and would have grown hotter had they continued. Abruptly Glen released her, trembling with the restraint it demanded to pull away.
She stared at him, wide-eyed, then pressed the back of her hand against her mouth.
“I suppose you’re waiting for an apology,” he said, knowing that kiss should never have happened. “I’ll give you one if you insist, but it’d be a lie. This is only the third time we’ve kissed, and it’s the last. It has to be.” He reached out to stroke her hair and whispered, “Be happy, Ellie. Be very happy.”
Looking as if she’d been struck dumb, she continued to stand there, staring up at him.
“Richard doesn’t deserve you,” he said, his voice gruff with pain, “but I don’t, either.” He touched her cheek, loving the feel of her skin beneath his fingertips. Then he turned and walked out of the store.
ELLIE DIDN’T MOVE FOR FIVE solid minutes after he left. Her hand remained poised at her lips, the taste and feel of him still clinging to her mouth.
Little of what he’d said made any sense—but they hadn’t been able to communicate effectively in weeks. Except when they kissed…. They’d been best friends for years, able to talk about anything, and then overnight it had all changed.
The big oaf. He’d screwed up his marriage proposal and now he was back, kissing her senseless and saying the most beautiful words she’d ever heard. He hadn’t actually said he loved her, although his kiss was pretty persuasive. What he’d said was, “Be happy.” And if he didn’t love her, he wouldn’t have told her that. Because Glen Patterson was an honest man.
Glen’s kiss still lingered on her lips when Richard casually sauntered into the store.
“Darling,” he said, flashing her an easy smile. He grabbed her in a bear hug and soundly kissed her cheek.
Furious, Ellie wiped away his kiss, not wanting his touch to taint what she’d shared with Glen. “Let go of me,” she ordered. One thing she detested was being manhandled. When Richard didn’t immediately comply, she elbowed him hard in the ribs.
“Ouch,” he muttered, holding her at arm’s length. “Why didn’t you tell me yourself?”
“Tell you what?”
“That you’d decided to accept my proposal.” He glared at her as if suddenly aware that something wasn’t right.
“Who told you that?” Although she could almost predict his answer.
“Glen Patterson,” he murmured. “It’s all a joke, isn’t it?” His lip curled into a snarl.
She was going to kill Glen, no doubt about it. “Not a joke,” she said feeling genuinely sorry, “but a misunderstanding.”
“Well, that’s just fine,” Richard spit. “I just went and bought myself a new suit for the wedding.”
“Oh, Richard.” She brought one hand to her mouth. “Glen didn’t understand—”
“What the hell am I supposed to do about the suit?” He actually made it sound as though they should get married because of a new set of clothes.
“Can you return it?”
“I don’t think so,” he said, his voice tight with anger.
“I am sorry, Richard.”
He looked as if he wanted to plow his fist through something. “It wouldn’t have worked, anyway,” he said. “You’re too uptight. Making love to you would have been like warming up an ice cube.”
Ellie had heard all she cared to. “I think you should go. And take your insults with you.”
“Fine. Whatever. Patterson really had me fooled—he must’ve enjoyed playing me for an idiot. Tell him I’m not going to forget his sick joke.” That said, he bolted out the door.
If Glen’s actions earlier had confused her, Richard’s outraged her. She hadn’t missed the threat, but as far as she knew, Glen had nothing to fear from Richard Weston. He should worry about what she planned to do to him, instead.
George, who’d gone on an errand, was back fifteen minutes later. The minute he walked into the store, Ellie reached for her truck keys. “I have to go,” she said. “Can you close up shop for me?”
“I…I guess.”
It wasn’t like her to walk out before five, but it couldn’t be helped. She was in her truck and headed out of town in five minutes flat. She managed the forty-minute drive in thirty; half an hour was not long enough to cool her anger even slightly.
Glen and Cal must have heard her coming because both men stepped onto the porch when she arrived. She glared at Glen with undisguised fury.
“Ellie, is something wrong?” he asked, walking down the steps toward her.
With her hands planted on her hips, she yelled, “Did you actually believe for one minute I was going to marry Richard Weston?”
He hesitated, fifteen or so feet away. “That’s what you said.”
“I said,” she returned from between clenched teeth, “that Richard had proposed. I did not, I repeat, not at any time state that I’d accepted his proposal of marriage.”
Glen’s face was stricken. “You didn’t?”
“I most certainly did not. Furthermore, anyone with eyes in his head would know it’s you I love.”
“You love me?”
“Don’t pretend you didn’t know, Glen Patterson. I’ve loved you forever.” But at the moment she wasn’t particularly happy about it.
“Then you’ll marry me, right?” Glen looked like he was about to fly across the yard and haul her into his arms.
Ellie stopped him cold in his tracks. “Give me one good reason why I’d want to marry a man who’s got the brains of a tumbleweed.”
“She loves you, all right,” Cal shouted from the porch steps.
“You stay out of this,” Ellie shouted back, pointing an accusing finger at Glen’s brother. “You encouraged him to do it, didn’t you?”
“Yup.” Cal seemed downright proud of himself.
“The next time Glen asks you for advice, ignore him.” Then she threw open the truck door and climbed inside.
“Ellie!” Glen started toward her. But when she revved the engine, he apparently knew better than to press his luck. He stayed where he was. Good thing, because in her current frame of mind she was liable to run him over.
When the dust had died down, Ellie glanced in her rearview mirror and groaned. Cal and Glen Patterson were leaping about, hugging each other wildly.
CHAPTER 10
GLEN PATTERSON HAD NEVER been happier. Ellie loved him. Him. Not Richard Weston. And by golly, she was going to marry him, too!
“I knew it,” Cal announced cheerfully as though he was personally responsible for the unexpected turn of events.
“Did you ever see such a woman?” Glen asked, watching Ellie drive away. Damn, but she had spunk. It wasn’t every woman who would’ve come out here to confront him the way she had.
Cal chuckled. “Don’t think I’ve ever seen a female that mad.” He glanced at his brot
her. “How’re you going to get her to marry you?”
That was a question Glen hadn’t considered. Of course Ellie would marry him. She loved him. He loved her. Marriage was the natural result of such feelings. Sure, she was mad at him right now, but she’d cool off and they’d sit down and talk this out and plan for their future together. “Any suggestions?”
“From me?” Cal adamantly shook his head. “Didn’t you hear? Ellie wasn’t too impressed with the advice I gave you earlier, although I don’t know what I said that was so wrong. Do you?”
“Nope.” Women baffled him just as much as they did Cal. “So, who should I ask for advice?”
Cal thought it over a moment. “Mom?”
“Not Mom,” Glen said. He loved his mother, but she was sure to meddle. All mothers did. Once she heard about this, she’d want to fix it; she’d want to talk to Ellie and act as a go-between and generally get involved. Glen shuddered. He preferred to handle the situation himself.
Cal shrugged. “Dovie, then. She’s got a good head on her shoulders.”
“Dovie,” Glen repeated slowly. Yes. She was a good choice.
After a night without sleep, followed by one of the most emotionally draining days of his life, Glen nearly nodded off during dinner. As soon as the evening chores were done, he showered and went to bed. He’d figure out what he should say to Ellie. Tomorrow… He’d figure it out tomorrow. As he drifted into sleep, he actually felt happy for the first time in weeks.
THE NEXT AFTERNOON GLEN OPENED the door to Dovie’s Antiques. Glancing around, he immediately removed his hat. Little wonder the women in town loved this place. It was full to the rafters with pretty things, and smelled a little like Savannah’s garden. If his nose didn’t mislead him, he caught the scent of some mighty fine brandy, too. Must be what she used to make that famous cordial of hers.
“Hello, Glen.” Dovie was her usual lighthearted self. “What can I do for you this fine day?”
“Ah…” For the life of him, Glen couldn’t think of a single way to start the conversation.
Dovie regarded him expectantly. “I’ll have you know, young man, I have my money riding on you.”