A Rancher's Vow. Patricia Rosemoor
placed on her and murmured, “Oh, no, girl, you don’t need to be afraid of me,” crouching also and holding out a nonthreatening hand.
Aware of Reed staring at her, Alcina grew self-conscious, but she didn’t want to scare the dog further and so stayed exactly as she was. Barely a moment went by before the animal ventured forward to smell her fingers.
“You poor thing,” Alcina said, turning her hand so the dog lightly nuzzled her palm. In the same tone, she asked Reed, “Where did she come from?”
“Not here. I found her on the road—the reason I was late. I’d never ask you to lie, but if you wouldn’t tell Chance…”
She remembered him being honest to a fault, so his keeping something like that from his brother was a big deal. Reed confiding in her… Warmth flooded Alcina.
“I think Chance would understand, but I’ll keep mum.”
She’d always known Reed was a kind man. Without thinking, she stroked the dog’s neck, then continued petting her, running a hand down a bony spine.
Suddenly catching herself, Alcina murmured, “Oh, sorry.”
She expected the dog to slither away and was surprised when it moved closer for more.
“She must trust you,” Reed said.
Alcina ran gentle fingers along the animal’s protruding ribs. “You don’t have to sound so surprised.”
“I didn’t mean that to sound judgmental. It’s just that she’s so skittish.”
Suddenly feeling a little skittish herself, Alcina met Reed’s gaze and realized that he was staring at her. His expression was appreciative. And puzzling.
“What?” she asked.
He shrugged. “Most women wouldn’t have touched a dog that looked scruffy and sick.”
“I’m not—”
“Most women,” he finished for her. “I remember.”
Getting to her feet, Alcina asked, “So what’s her name?”
“I don’t know. She’s not my dog.”
A disbelieving Alcina cleared her throat.
“She’s not.” Reed rose, as well. “But I intend to find her a good home.”
From the way the dog was looking at him so adoringly, Alcina figured she’d already found herself one—her new owner obviously hadn’t realized it yet.
“In the meantime,” she said, “you have to call her something.”
“What’s wrong with Girl?”
“Not very personal.”
“Then what do you suggest?” he asked.
“You want me to name your…uh, her?”
“Why not? It’s only temporary.”
“Right, temporary.” Alcina looked deep into the dog’s liquid brown eyes. “Hey, Temporary.”
The dog whistled through her nose and gave a sharp bark.
“I think she likes it,” Alcina said.
Reed snorted. “Temporary? Come on, that’s a ridiculous name for a dog.”
“Then you name her.”
For a moment, she thought Reed might take her challenge. Then he shrugged.
“Temporary it is.”
Alcina grinned. They stood there grinning at each other for a moment before she remembered the festivities. She’d only meant to kill a few minutes and had lost track of time.
“I think we’d better get back if we want to send the bride and groom off with our best wishes,” she said.
“That means it’s time for you to get back into the pickup,” Reed told the dog.
He patted her and opened the door. She stood there looking at him.
Giving her a hand signal, he said, “C’mon, Temporary, get in.”
The dog jumped into the truck and onto the driver’s seat where she settled, her adoring gaze still on Reed.
“You’re her hero,” Alcina murmured.
“I only did what any decent person would do.”
She knew that wasn’t true. The world was filled with decent folks. But the dog obviously had been on her own for a while now. Only a really caring person would have taken the time and trouble with her that Reed had.
With the dog settled, they hurried back to the party to find the wedding cake had already been cut, and the unmarried men were being urged to step up for the garter toss.
Nearly two dozen men, mostly old bachelor cowboys, got into the spirit of the competition. Moon-Eye was at the front of the line, she noted; he must have finished his chores. Even Bart and Reed jostled each other good-naturedly as one of the musicians beat a tattoo on his drum.
Chance took a quick look over his shoulder, and Alcina was certain he aimed directly for Bart, who was committed, if not yet officially engaged, to Josie Walker.
Only, Reed was the one who ended up with the garter on his arm.
Alcina tried to sit out the bouquet throw, but Pru wouldn’t hear of it. Certain her friend would send the spray of flowers Josie’s way, Alcina gave in and moved to the opposite side of the much smaller group of women, the oldest of whom was Felice, the youngest Lainey.
When the bouquet wound up in her own hands, Alcina was floored.
Pru turned to face her, a sly grin quirking her lips, and Alcina knew her friend had sent the flowers her way purposely. What in the world was she thinking?
Just then, the band started a lively tune.
“Well, isn’t this an interesting development,” Pru said, drawing closer, Chance in tow. She shifted her mischievous gaze from Alcina to Reed.
“You really shouldn’t have,” Alcina muttered.
A challenging glitter in his eyes, Reed asked, “Alcina Dale, where’s your spirit of fun?”
And before Alcina knew what was happening, he’d swung her into his arms for a dance.
As they did the Texas two-step, the newlyweds grabbed hands and rushed through the dancing crowd. Catcalls about their wedding night and handfuls of birdseed followed them. Alcina watched them go with a bit of envy, the emotion exacerbated, no doubt, by the man who wrapped his arms around her.
“Amazing, Chance settling down,” Reed said. “I never thought I’d see the day.”
“People do strange things when the love bug bites them.”
Alcina was only too aware of something nibbling at her.
After the disagreement that had punctuated their reunion, who would have thought she would end up in Reed’s arms? Being there felt too good for her peace of mind, Alcina decided. He was merely getting into the spirit of the occasion, while she was feeling things that made her chafe.
She wasn’t a teenager anymore…not even a young woman…so what was her problem?
While she’d thought of Reed fondly through the years, she hadn’t kept herself on a shelf waiting for him to realize that she was the one for him. She’d gone on with her life, to other men, other relationships. She’d returned to New Mexico after college in New York, but she’d soon had reason to return to the East Coast. Working as an interior designer, she’d met plenty of eligible New York bachelors. Her friends out East had considered her sophisticated when it came to matters of the heart after her seemingly easy split with Jeffrey.
But suddenly she was thrust