The Cowboy's Destiny. Marin Thomas
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hair. “I’m sorry I wasn’t able to break the curse.”
What curse?
“Never mind, dear,” Violet said. “I shouldn’t have loaned it out. I probably passed my bad luck on to you.”
“Good Lord, Violet.” A woman standing by the piano spoke. “That wedding veil has made a dozen trips down the aisle and not one of those marriages lasted more than a few years.”
“Eleven, and none of the divorces were my fault.” Violet winked at Buck. “Can’t help it if I’m attracted to bad boys.”
Buck felt his face heat up.
Destiny came to his rescue. “No need to let all this food and drink go to waste.”
“We never celebrated Destiny’s mayoral win,” the sheriff said. “We should turn this into a victory party.”
The biker chick was the mayor of Lizard Gulch?
“Three cheers for Destiny!”
Hoots and hollers echoed through the bar then folks crowded the buffet table, loading their Chinet plates with every kind of casserole known to mankind.
Someone pushed him toward the food line. “Go eat.”
He did as he was told, then stood in the corner and watched Destiny make the rounds, chatting with her constituents and listening to their complaints and concerns as if she really cared.
“Is this your first time in Lizard Gulch?” Mr. Suit-and-Tie held out his hand. “Mark Mitchell.”
After he shook Mitchell’s hand, Buck said, “Until a few minutes ago I wasn’t aware the town existed.”
“Lizard Gulch used to be a lively place in its day.”
“And when was that?” A century ago?
“Five decades of prosperity before the Interstate took all the traffic north of the town. Lizard Gulch was a popular overnight stop on the old Route 66.” He pointed to a lady a few feet away, whose shoulder-length black bob looked like a wig. “Melba’s parents ran the Flamingo Resort. Travelers stopped here on their way to California, because the motel had an outdoor pool and slide for kids.” Mitchell wiped his brow with a napkin. “Once they finished construction of the Interstate, people drove straight through to California.”
“I’m surprised the town wasn’t abandoned.” How did anyone make a living? Then again, the average age in the saloon had to be sixtysomething. Maybe they were all retired.
“The town sat vacant for years. When Melba’s husband died, she quit her job as a bank teller in Kingman, then took his insurance money and renovated the Flamingo. Turned the parking lot into a mobile home park and invited friends to visit. Her friends told their friends and before you knew it the place filled up with old farts.”
Buck eyed the bride. Why would a young woman want to live with all these gray heads? “How long has Destiny lived here?”
“About a year.”
“Stop hogging the newcomer.” The guy wearing the disco shirt slipped his arm through Buck’s and squeezed his biceps. “We haven’t had a cowboy as handsome as you come through town in...forever.”
“Enrick’s one of those homosexuals, but you probably already figured that out,” Mitchell said.
Buck choked on a swallow of water.
“It’s called being gay, Mark.” Enrick motioned to the big man with the ponytail. “Frank’s my partner. We met at a pastry competition in Phoenix and it was love at first sight.”
Buck barely heard Enrick drone on about his partner—Destiny had caught his attention. She’d taken the pins out of her hair and long fiery locks cascaded down the back of her white leather vest. She was nothing like the women he normally dated. Maybe that weekend rodeo in Flagstaff wasn’t so important after all.
“Where are you from?” Mitchell asked.
“Stagecoach. Small town southeast of Yuma.”
Enrick leaned in and sniffed Buck’s neck. “You smell good. What cologne are you wearing?”
Buck inched sideways, inserting an extra foot of space between himself and lover boy. “I can’t remember.”
“I’ve never cheated on Frank—” Enrick sighed dramatically “—but right now I really wish I was single.”
Frank made his way through the crowd toward Enrick and Buck. “Quit pestering the guest,” he said as he turned Enrick toward the buffet table. “Go eat. You’re too skinny.”
“I just love how you worry about me.” Enrich stood on tiptoe and kissed Frank’s cheek then was off to join a group of gossiping women.
“Sorry about that,” Frank said. “He comes on a bit strong.”
No kidding.
“You’re not gay, but watch yourself with Enrick. He has a way of making a man think twice about his sexuality.” Frank walked off, leaving Buck shaking his head not knowing what to think.
The sheriff wheeled a cart carrying a wedding cake across the floor and everyone oohed and ahhed over the green frosting lizards crawling up the white monstrosity. A plastic bride and groom riding a motorcycle sat on the top tier.
“This is beautiful, Frank.” Destiny hugged the pastry chef.
“The lizards were my idea.” Enrick beamed.
Frank wielded the knife. “Who wants a piece?”
After all the guests were served, Destiny brought Buck a slice. “Wild bunch, aren’t they?” She smiled fondly at the group.
He kept his opinion to himself and sampled the cake. “Hey, this is good.” When he finished the dessert, he asked, “Is the town mechanic here?”
“No.”
“I’d better head to the garage and talk to him about my truck. Thanks again for the lift.” Buck handed Destiny his empty cake plate then left the bar. As he walked down the middle of the street he noticed a cemetery tucked behind the miniature golf course. Three marked graves occupied the plot. A sign on the gate read Ghost Tours Daily at Dusk.
A shiver racked his body when he stopped and looked back at the saloon. The people in there hadn’t been ghosts, had they? Shaking his head, he continued to the garage, wondering if he’d just landed in The Twilight Zone.
Chapter Two
Destiny braced herself when Mark Mitchell, the former mayor of Lizard Gulch, approached her. The sleazy lawyer found satisfaction in others’ misery and she’d love to slap that condescending grin off his face.
“So...I wonder why Daryl didn’t show up at the chapel?”
“I guess he decided he didn’t love me enough to marry me.” Too bad she wasn’t heartbroken over being jilted.
“You know,” Mitchell said, “if there were opportunities to make a decent living in this town, he might have taken a chance on you.”
Money had never been an issue between her and Daryl. He did his thing and she did hers. When they could coordinate their schedules they hung out together.
“There’s time to win Daryl back. All you have to do is convince your constituents to take the deal Wyndell Resorts is offering.” Mitchell’s grin widened. “Once you have all that money in your pretty little hands, your fiancé will come running back.”
Mitchell had arrived in town a year ago, claiming he was searching for a place to retire. She hadn’t bought the lie—a man in his late thirties was too young to be thinking about retirement, but he’d sweet-talked the residents into believing he was a nice guy before he’d convinced them that the town needed a mayor. Of course