The Husband School Page 18

  “Mom, it’s Pete’s turn.”

  “Oh.” Loralee turned around and motioned for Pete Lyons to take the empty chair across from Meg. “Go ahead, sweetie. But with a handsome face like yours, I don’t know why you can’t find a girlfriend all by yourself.”

  “I’m working on it, Mrs. Smittle,” he answered, giving her a cute grin. “But I sure don’t mind picking up a few tips when I can.”

  “Call me Loralee, please. Why I ever married anyone named Smittle I’ll never know. I think I’ll change it back to Ripley. It’s just easier to remember.” She stepped away from the table and told Meg, “I’m going to go home, take Shelly with me and make sure she gets off her feet.”

  “Thanks, Mom. She did a good job with the dance steps tonight.”

  “It was the best part of the evening,” she declared, eyeing the table again. “Pete, don’t forget to ask the lady about herself, compliment her on something and listen. Listening counts for a lot. A lot more than knowing which fork to use. Don’t belch, don’t pick your teeth and you’ll do fine.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Pete picked up the empty wineglass and set it down in the same spot. “I can do all that.”

  Loralee hesitated and leaned closer to whisper near Meg’s ear. “I thought I saw someone who looked like Owen earlier. He’s not involved in this, is he?”

  “You’ll have to ask the mayor,” Meg hedged. Pete removed his napkin from the table and put it in his lap. He grinned at her as if he’d just gotten an A.

  “Hmm.” Loralee noticed Pete’s gleeful expression. “Remember not to talk with your mouth full,” she cautioned. “And no toothpicks!”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Watch him,” Loralee said to Meg before she walked away. “Men are simple creatures, but they’ll usually tell you what they think you want to hear and go off and do what they want to do.”

  “Maybe you should teach a class for women,” Meg teased. Loralee hooted, her boots clacking as she toddled off to find Shelly.

  After another hour and a half of teaching table manners and explaining which fork to use for which part of the meal to those who hadn’t a clue, Meg ushered the last of the bachelors out the door, turned out most of the lights and opened a bottle of chilled white wine to share with Lucia. The two of them sat across from each other in a corner booth and clinked glasses.

  “Your iron is your friend,” Lucia toasted.

  “No belching or slurping,” Meg countered.

  “Sort your laundry by colors.”

  “Eat to the left, drink to the right.”

  Lucia considered that one as she took a sip of her drink. “Clever. Your plates are always on your left and your glasses are on your right?”

  “Yes. It was a novel concept to some, but they got the hang of it.”

  “Wait until next week, when some of them get haircuts.” Lucia giggled. “I can’t wait for Tuesday.”

  “Neither can Jerry. That’s when they arrive in town.”

  “Are you in a panic yet?”

  “A little.” Meg thought of everything she had left to do on the three cabins this coming weekend. “Jerry wants me to stock the shelves with organic soaps and soy candles.”

  “Give me a list and I’ll pick up what you need in town on Saturday. I’m taking the boys to the movies.”

  “Thank you. I’m going to Billings but there won’t be a chance to shop. I could ask my mother, but I’m not sure what she’d come home with.”

  “Why Billings? Hot date with your rancher?”

  “Right.” She rolled her eyes. “With Shelly as chaperone. The livestock show started today.” She explained what the girl had told her about the ranch rodeo finals. “The mysterious Sonny could be roaming around there.”

  “Shelly still believes—”

  “That she’ll find her prince again, the same way she found him the first time, at the rodeo.”

  “I hope she’s right, but you and I know the problems with princes. Speaking of royalty,” Lucia drawled, refilling her wineglass and gesturing toward the door with the half-empty bottle. “Here comes Ranch King now.”

  “Ranch King? I heard that,” Owen said. “Which means you’ve never seen the ranch.” He scanned the dimly lit dining room. “Is the coast clear?”

  “You’re safe,” Meg answered. She thought he’d gone home...without saying goodbye. “Just don’t turn the overhead lights on. She could be looking out the window to see if she’s missing anything.”

  “I parked around the corner, in the alley next to the Laundromat,” he said, approaching the booth. Meg scooted over to give him more room. “But she knows I’m in town, right? I can handle her when I meet her again, you know.”

  “Yes,” Meg said. “I’m delaying the inevitable lecture. If I can get her back to Tucson without having an opinion on how I’m handling my life, I’ll do whatever I can.”

  “Coward,” Lucia said, then turned to Owen.

  “Before you sit down, help yourself to a wineglass,” Lucia told him. “We’re recovering from the class and celebrating the rebirth of civilization right here in Willing.”

  “The wineglasses are over there, to the left of the sink,” Meg added.

  When he went behind the counter to find one, Lucia raised her eyebrows at Meg, who shrugged. “Want me to leave?” Lucia whispered.

  “Absolutely not.” Meg knew Lucia had looked forward to getting out tonight. Mama Marie had insisted on staying with the boys, along with providing dinner, so there was no reason for Lucia to rush home.

  “I’d like to see the ranch,” Lucia said, picking up the conversation when Owen sat down close to Meg and poured himself a small amount of wine. “My boys would get a kick out of the horses. My four-year-old is going to be a cowboy for Halloween.”

  “I have a couple of horses out there now, but they’re not mine. They’re gentle enough, though. How old are your sons?”

  “Four, six and eight.”

  “Good ages to start riding,” he said. He sat close enough for her to feel his warmth. His thick brown sweater smelled like the outdoors, and she wished she could lean her cheek against his arm.

  “Oh, I didn’t mean they needed to ride,” Lucia sputtered. “They’d just enjoy seeing horses, feeding them apples and carrots, petting their noses, things like that.”

  “If they’d like to get up on the horses, I’d be glad to lead them around in one of the corrals,” Owen said. “Unless you don’t want them to.”

  “No, they’d love it, but—”

  “Hey.” Owen, his voice low and gruff, stopped her protest. “I’ve heard good things about your husband. And I respect what he was doing. If his children want to ride horses and you want them to ride, then that’s what will happen as long as I’m here.”

  Lucia’s eyes filled with tears, but she choked out, “Okay. Thank you.”

  Meg swallowed the sudden lump in her own throat while Owen cleared his. “Les is going to bring over four more horses this weekend. His grandfather used to have a trail-riding business north of here, so the horses are used to beginners.” He looked at Meg. “We’re getting ready to impress the Californians.”

  “You are?”

  “I’m on the location committee, remember?”

  “There are rumors you have a hot tub,” Lucia said. “Is that true, Ranch King?”

  He winced. “I hope you never call me that in front of anyone but Meg. And yes, I have a hot tub. My uncle installed it when he moved in, but I need to clean it up this weekend and get it running.”

  Meg touched his arm. “When did you decide to open up the ranch to the TV crew?”

  “After the first class, I suppose. I’m not sure exactly when, but it’s important to the town, right?”

  “An excellent reason,” Lucia noted. She w
idened her eyes at Meg. “And I, for one, want to see that hot tub.”

  “What do you clean the thing with?”

  Lucia offered to look it up and call him tomorrow. After another twenty minutes chatting about the “boyfriend project,” as Lucia called it, the three of them left the restaurant.

  “So,” he said to Meg, “when are we going to the rodeo to search for the elusive boyfriend?”

  “Saturday?”

  “What time?”

  “If you’re here at noon, I’ll give you lunch before we leave.”

  “Sounds good.” Owen didn’t follow Meg to her door, though he watched as she unlocked it. He escorted Lucia to her car and then rounded the building to the alley where he’d parked. She had no business feeling disappointed. He could be rethinking their attraction, just as she should.

  Meg quickly showered and tucked herself into bed, propping pillows against the carved oak headboard she’d bought one summer at an auction in Big Timber. She clicked the remote to turn on the television mounted on the opposite wall and found the local weather channel. Any kind of pending storm system would be a problem. All clear so far, she discovered, though there could be scattered snow showers on Saturday.

  Whatever she and Owen were doing scared her half to death. She caught herself dreaming of a life with him, but those had also been her dreams as a teenager who’d assumed that love equaled happily ever after. And even though she had been the one to call off the elopement, she hadn’t expected him to abandon her. She’d learned that love didn’t always equal a happy ending.

  But what if there was nothing wrong with that dream? What if, even though it hadn’t happened for her once, it might this time? She was a woman attracted to a man. A decent man, from what she’d seen.

  Or was she a complete idiot for even contemplating such a thing? He was a hotshot businessman with a historic ranch and ancestors he could trace through five centuries in Scotland. Which he was going to sell, and then he was going to leave again.

  Meg climbed out of bed and went into the bathroom to take a couple of aspirin. The question of love had given her a headache.

  * * *

  “THE MORE THE merrier,” Hip said, standing awkwardly next to an enormous white Cadillac Escalade. Theo waved from behind the wheel. Owen stopped in front of the car, which was parked next to his truck.

  “What the heck is Hip doing here?”

  “I don’t know.” Meg hoped the man hadn’t started drinking again. She waved to Theo.

  “Hip wants to go, too,” Shelly informed them. “They’re going to help us look for Sonny.”

  “But they don’t know what he looks like any more than we do,” Meg said, hoping Hip didn’t have feelings for Shelly. She couldn’t imagine that working out, not with the age difference, among other things. The man would only get hurt.

  The girl shrugged. “If you see a tall, blond guy wearing a black hat, just holler, ‘Sonny!’ and see if he turns around.” She gave Hip a wave and went over to say hello.

  “That sounds easy enough,” Owen murmured. “Because rodeos are so quiet and all.”

  “I’d thought more about studying the names on the program and going from there.”

  Owen shook his head and opened the truck passenger doors. “Sounds like a wild goose chase any way we do it.”

  “I know,” Meg whispered, as Shelly joined them and climbed into the backseat. “Do they still have cotton candy?”

  “Sure,” the girl chirped. “And chicken on a stick. All sorts of good stuff.” She fumbled in her bag and pulled out her cell phone. “Do you guys have your phones?”

  “Yes,” Meg said, and Owen nodded. He put the truck into reverse and followed the Cadillac out of the parking lot.

  “I brought binoculars.”

  “I hope we get lucky,” Shelly said, sighing as she looked out the window. “It’s not supposed to snow, is it?”

  “No,” Owen assured her.

  “Good thinking on the binoculars.” Meg wished she’d thought of that, but she hadn’t decided if finding a one-night-stand disappearing boyfriend was in Shelly’s best interests. Was that the kind of man who would make a good father? Meg didn’t think so.

  “Are we sure this is a good idea?” she asked, turning around to look at Shelly. “What if—”

  “Don’t say it,” the girl said. “Dr. Jenks said I had to keep positive and not get all worried and upset over things. Getting stressed out and stuff isn’t good for the baby.”

  “Okay,” Meg said slowly, glancing at Owen. He raised his eyebrows but didn’t say a word. “Then we’ll think positive.”

  Owen took his right hand off the steering wheel and reached over to take Meg’s hand. He squeezed her fingers. “I’m positive we’ll have a good time,” he murmured. “How’s that?”

  “I like it.” She liked the warmth of his skin against hers. “I like it a lot.”

  * * *

  “AND LOOK AT this.” It was a lovely Sunday morning as Meg pointed out the carved elk head on the door of cabin four. “Hip made them for all three of the cabins. An elk, a bear and a Dahl sheep.”

  “That’s talent,” Loralee agreed, running her fingers over the outline of the elk. “I didn’t know he was a real artist. I thought he carved tree trunks, not pretty things like this.”

  “He’s making something for the baby,” Shelly said.

  “Lucky baby,” Meg said. She looked exhausted, which made Shelly feel bad. They’d gotten home late after spending hours looking for someone who wasn’t there.

  Loralee opened the door to the last finished cabin. “Too bad Hip’s a drinker. Never fall in love with a drinker, Shell. You can’t fix them.”

  “Oh, I’m not—”

  “Mom, what do you think of the colors in here? We picked out the blue for the walls to match the bathroom tiles. Mike got a deal on them on Craigslist.”

  “Just perfect,” Loralee said, poking her head into the bathroom. “I like the new fixtures. We should have done this years ago.”

  Despite how exhausted she seemed, Shelly had never seen Meg so happy. She’d cried when the women from the quilt group had surprised her this morning with three bed quilts and six intricate quilted wall hangings to decorate the cabins. There had been other surprises, too. Lucia’s oldest son’s class had painted pictures of their version of Montana; the teacher chose the best ones and Mike matted and framed them to hang above the new towel racks in the bathrooms.

  Mama Marie’s specialty, Italian anise cookies, were packaged in cellophane and tied with ribbons to welcome the guests. Pressed-wildflower greeting cards said, “Welcome to Willing, Montana.” Loralee had bought a trunkful of thick white towels and washcloths in Lewistown.

  Owen had arrived this morning, after the new carpet had been installed and Loralee had gone to town. He’d delivered a truckload of furniture from his ranch and insisted that he had no use for it. Shelly had heard that he and some of the other men had had it all set up inside the rooms before Meg had known what was happening. It seemed as if the entire town was determined to impress their visitors.

  A lot was riding on this visit, and the people in town knew it.

  Shelly liked the quilts the best. She didn’t know much about sewing, except for that quilt show Meg had taken her to, but she knew how pretty the quilts looked on the new beds. Like something out of the Country Living magazines in the clinic’s waiting room.

  “This is, um, unusual.” Loralee turned to Shelly and made a funny face, but Meg didn’t notice, which was good, because Shelly could tell she really liked the brightly colored quilt. It hung in the center of the wall that divided the bedroom from the bathroom and was bigger than the two in the other cabins.

  “It’s gorgeous,” Meg said, stepping closer to study the stitching. “Aurora said she was learning t
o quilt, but I didn’t know she was an artist.”

  “It’s very modern,” Loralee pointed out. “All those strips put together, no rhyme or reason, is very, uh, different.” According to the tone of Loralee’s voice, “different” didn’t mean “beautiful.”

  “I like it,” Shelly said, trying not to laugh. “I love the other quilts, too, because they look like quilts are supposed to look, you know? But I like this, too.”

  “Aurora told me she was inspired by Gee’s Bend,” Meg explained.

  “What’s that?” Shelly asked, but Meg didn’t know any more about it.

  “I’ll look it up it on the iPad,” Loralee promised. “After we eat. Is there any of that chicken-tortilla soup left?”

  “Uh-uh.” Shelly sat in one of the two chairs that flanked the round Formica-topped table. “It sold out.”

  “The opening weekend of deer hunting,” Loralee said with a sigh, joining her at the little table across from the bed. “I should have known.”

  “I’ll make it again next week,” Meg promised.

  “It’s my new favorite,” Shelly said, running a hand over her expanding bump.

  The baby moved. Which made him—and she just knew it was a boy—real. Much more real. She’d studied the pamphlets the doctor had given her. She’d spent time on websites for expectant mothers. Shelly had tried hard to do everything right: getting enough rest, eating vegetables and fresh fruit, taking her prenatal vitamins and not stressing out too much when she messed up the kitchen orders.

  Al never yelled, which was cool, but she hated screwing up and making more work for everyone else.

  She’d been saving her money and she’d managed to pay the bill to keep her cell phone working. Sonny had the number. So did a couple of her friends from school, though they didn’t know where she was. They’d promised to tell her if Sonny came looking for her, and they’d been trying to track him down online. But without much luck so far.