Gambling On a Heart. Sara Walter Ellwood

      “Have either of you seen Bobby?” Tracy Parker all but barked, and immediately lassoed the irritation. She might have a ton to do, but taking her crappy mood out on her brother and father wasn’t fair. “Lucinda needs him next for pictures.”

      She dragged her feet up the wide front porch stairs of the Victorian house at Butterfly Ranch, feeling like the whole state of Texas was on her shoulders. And everyone knew Texas was bigger than the world.

      She glanced at the groom, her brother Dylan, who sat in a cane rocker beside their father. Each of them had a glass of sweet tea–the drink of choice in Central Texas on a hot August Saturday–in their hands.

      “Check inside. He has to be around here somewhere.” Dylan looked too at ease to be getting married in less than an hour, with his Stetson pulled low over his forehead and his legs stretched out and ankles crossed, showing off his custom crocodile boots. He pushed his Stetson back and smiled. “You need to take a chill pill, sis. You’re more nervous than I am.”

      She narrowed her eyes on him. “Someone has to take the wedding seriously.”

      “I am. I’m marrying the woman I want to spend the rest of my life with, and in February, I’m going to be a father. It’s the happiest day of my life.”

      The sudden burn in her sinuses didn’t surprise her. She was so not going to start bawling. Today had to be perfect for Dylan and Charli, the type of wedding she would never have. Not wanting to think about her own messed up life, she hugged Dylan and smiled at her father. She shook her head at the picture her cowboy brother and city slicker father made sitting together drinking tea.

      As she entered the coolness of the house, she heard the television on in the living room and headed in that direction.

      Bobby sat on the couch flipping through channels. The shirttail of his Western shirt hung outside his creased new jeans. His vest and bolo tie were nowhere in sight.

      Her eleven-year-old son looked up as she entered, and scowled. “I wanted to go with Dad this weekend. He was gonna take me to the Rangers game.”

      Tracy took the TV remote from his hand and turned off the flat screen. She tossed the controller into the basket on the coffee table, then clasped her hands in front of her. “It’s more important to be here at Uncle Dylan and Aunt Charli’s wedding. Your dad can take you to a baseball game any time. What’s going to happen today will only happen once.”

      He rolled his eyes and gave a longsuffering sigh. “Right. If you say so. But I still think it’s all dumb. Dad doesn’t think they’ll last longer than a year.”

      She took another deep breath to calm her temper. Losing it now would only prove disastrous. Damn her ex-husband. Why would he say such a thing to a boy? “Bobby, this wedding is not stupid. Uncle Dylan and Aunt Charli love each other and want to share their special day with the people they love. Which includes you. Now, let’s go out before they wonder where we are.”

      His jaw was set in the irritating reminder that he was Jake Parker’s son through and through. His hazel eyes flashed with defiance. “I still think all this wedding crap is stupid. You and Dad didn’t stay married and neither did Uncle Dylan and Aunt Brenda.”

      She put her hands on her hips and glared at her son. “Robert Allan Parker, if you don’t get off that couch right this minute, I’m grounding you for a month.”

      With a glower, he slowly pushed himself up to get off the couch, mumbling, “Dad wouldn’t make me do this.”

      “Well, I’m not your father.”

      “Tracy, the photographer is getting impatient. She needs Bobby ASAP,” a familiar deep voice drawled behind her.

      She turned to Zack Cartwright standing in the doorway, unsmiling, handsome and tall. He seemed taller than he had been back when he was eighteen. As a saddle bronco rider, he’d stood loose and relaxed. Now, he was all perfect posture. The Marines. The same thing had happened to Dylan after he’d joined the Army.

      She forced herself to meet the midnight blue gaze of the only man she’d ever loved. “Thank you.”

      Zack wore the same Texas tuxedo as her brother–tight new blue jeans, white Western shirt, vest and custom boots. But the silver belt buckle was his own. A trophy from his rodeo days. He held his tan Stetson in his hand at his side. She tried not to notice how the stubborn curl of his golden blond hair fell over his tanned forehead. He’d always had that lock, but back when she’d run her fingers through his thick hair, it had been a lot longer.

      She slammed a lid on the memories. The past couldn’t be changed.

      Bobby sulked beside her. “I hate getting my picture taken.”

      Zack turned with the thumb of his free hand hooked on a belt loop. “Today isn’t about you, now is it? Today is your aunt and uncle’s day, and they want pictures of you.” He nodded his chin toward the archway. “Now, go out there and do what Mrs. Hudson tells you to do.”

      She shooed Bobby toward the door. “Go.”

      Zack put his hand on Bobby’s shoulder to stop him as he passed. “Where’s your tie and vest? And tuck in your shirt.”

      He looked over his shoulder at Tracy, then up at Zack. “You ain’t my boss.”

      “No, I’m not, but we are on the same team out there. You have to walk your grandma down the aisle and stand beside me with your uncle. That’s a pretty important job. And I can’t imagine you’d want to embarrass your uncle and aunt or your momma.”

      Her heart stumbled over a beat when his gaze connected with hers.

      With another glare at her, Bobby huffed and crossed the room to where he’d dumped the tie and vest. After tucking in his shirt, he headed out of the room.

      Once the front door slammed behind Bobby, she flopped down on the couch with an exasperated sigh.

      Zack