And Cowboy Makes Three. Deb Kastner

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And Cowboy Makes Three - Deb  Kastner


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understand what was going on right now. She and Granny had planned to get together this precise weekend, even before Granny’s health had taken such a downhill spiral. She had the sinking feeling Granny had something planned for this auction, something that Jo was now tasked with making sure Angelica followed through on.

      Angelica might not be able to avoid the crowd today, but she prayed with her whole heart that she’d at least be able to steer clear of Rowdy. She didn’t want to be responsible for suddenly triggering thoughts in Rowdy of a painful past he would no doubt rather forget.

      She didn’t want to hurt him. Not for the world.

      Because long ago, in her youth, she had been in love with him, believing they were soul mates who would grow old together, live happily-ever-after.

      Until she’d ruined everything.

      Anyway, he’d probably moved on with his life. Perhaps he had even married and started a family. She’d been too ashamed to ask Jo how Rowdy was doing. She was grateful that, so far, she hadn’t laid eyes on him, and she hoped to keep it that way.

      Her stomach churned like a combine across her nerves and it was all she could do not to be sick. Not for the first time that day, she wondered if she ought not leave before someone recognized her.

      Her soft pink hoodie was made of a light cotton material, but she felt uncomfortably warm and stifled as she stood near the back of the crowd on the small-town community green, attempting to remain incognito while surreptitiously watching to make sure Rowdy was nowhere in the vicinity.

      Up to this point, no one had appeared to take much notice of her, as everyone’s attention was still completely absorbed in what was taking place upon the wooden platform currently serving as an improvised auction site.

      Serendipity, Texas’s First Annual Bachelors and Baskets Auction was already well under way, with many bachelors—and several married men, as well—already lassoed off the stage and into the care of their winning bidders, ladies beaming and cheering in delight over their triumphant purchases.

      What had started as a regular bachelor auction had quickly expanded to include married men offering their skills at fixing dilapidated houses or old cars. The ladies could bid on whatever man had the skills to match their projects.

      Several of the cuter bachelors had been purchased not so much for their practical skills as their good looks and the possibility of a date. The single ladies weren’t about to pass up such a grand opportunity.

      Not to be outdone by the men, the local women had offered to share decorated picnic baskets brimming with good, homemade country cooking with the fellows they won.

      Which explained the picnic.

      She wished Granny was still around to explain to her what all this was about. Why had Granny wanted her here?

      But then, if Granny was still around, Angelica wouldn’t be conspicuously standing in the middle of the community green, feeling as if she had a fluorescent sign flashing over her head announcing her return.

      Prodigal Daughter’s Homecoming.

      Out of nowhere, guilt assaulted Angelica, burning her insides. Through no fault of her own, she’d had to miss the end of Granny’s life and even her funeral. But that didn’t stop her from feeling bad about it.

      Regretful.

      Too little, too late.

      If only Granny had lived long enough to see this weekend with Angelica. How different life would be then.

      She held on to her new faith by the tips of her fingers, but there was so much she still didn’t understand. God’s ways were different than man’s, but how could He have let this happen, just when she’d discovered the joy of knowing Christ?

      Granny was still supposed to be alive. When she’d suddenly fallen gravely ill, Angelica had wanted to rush to her side, but there had been complications with the pregnancy and she couldn’t travel.

      Granny had insisted everything would be okay.

      But it hadn’t been okay.

      Granny had passed far too soon.

      Oh, how she would have loved her namesake, precious Toby Francis Carmichael. Angelica’s heart broke every time she thought about it.

      They’d intended this weekend to be a special get-together so Granny could meet Toby, but she’d passed away the very day Toby was born.

      Since Angelica’s travel plans had already been made, she hadn’t seen any reason to change or cancel them. She had come home to pay her respects and meet with the lawyer, not attend a party.

      Get in and get out. And the less people who knew about it—about her—the better.

      The whole atmosphere was charged with joy and excitement, but Angelica, with a baseball cap pulled low over her brow and her hoodie over that, wasn’t feeling either one of those emotions.

      It had been eight long, painful years since the last time she’d attended a Serendipity function.

      Her heart clenched and her emotions took a nosedive. She’d never been anything more to this town than the token troublemaker, no matter how hard she’d tried to change people’s opinions of her.

      Eventually she’d stopped trying.

      Despite Angelica’s faults—and what she now realized was a defensively bad attitude—Granny had understood her.

      And Rowdy had loved her.

      Had being the operative word.

      Her thoughts were abruptly called back to the present when Toby, tucked reassuringly close to her shoulder, sighed in his sleep and sucked on his fist, momentarily shifting Angelica’s attention away from the platform. Toby was such a sweet, beautiful baby, a real blessing in every possible regard.

      Granted, as his mother, Angelica knew she was a little bit biased.

      “If I can have your attention, please,” Jo announced, pounding a gavel against a podium that had been brought over from the town hall. “We still have several fellows lookin’ to be bid on here and a senior center still needin’ to be built. And who knows? The best guys might be yet to come. You don’t want to miss out on your perfect match ’cause you’re too busy jawin’ with your neighbors.”

      Since Jo was serving as the auctioneer, she had ditched Angelica with not so much as a second glance, much less an explanation.

      It shouldn’t bother her to be left alone. She’d been on her own most of her adult life. But it hurt her nonetheless. Maybe because she felt she was underneath an unseen spotlight.

      Or maybe because Jo was a friend.

      Angelica had been left to the mercy of the throng as it grew tighter toward the platform, pushing her with them. Her anxiety level rose exponentially as she became farther engulfed by the crowd.

      So much for a calm, peaceful picnic.

      Angelica pulled Toby a little closer, murmuring soft nonsense words in his ear and tucking her head close to his, inhaling his sweet, soothing baby scent. She reassured herself with the thought that, very soon, this would all be over and she could hightail it out of town and back to Denver where she belonged.

      Or not belonged, really. She didn’t fit in anywhere. But at least she wasn’t under the constant judgment she felt sure she would find here in Serendipity.

      “All right, folks,” Jo announced with a boisterous bounce in her step that sent her red curls bobbing. When the crowd didn’t immediately quiet, she pounded her gavel on the podium several times until she was certain she had everyone’s attention.

      “Next up on the docket,” she called, her voice overriding the little section of the crowd that was still speaking, “is a Serendipity fan favorite, especially among the ladies. Drumroll, please. Let’s hear it for Rowdy Masterson!”

      Angelica’s


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