Last Chance Beauty Queen (27 page)

Assuming, of course, that Miriam really was infallible.

Where had that thought come from? Was it possible for Miriam Randall to be wrong? That possibility had never occurred to Caroline before.

“Hey, ya’ll,” she said to Rachel and Arlene, “do you believe in Miriam Randall?”

“You mean like a god?” Rachel asked.

“No, I mean about her ability to foretell matrimonial bliss.”

“What is it, hon, are you worried? Do you really love Dash even though he thought that whole lasso thing was a joke?” Aunt Arlene asked.

“No. I don’t love Dash. But I guess I’m a little bit worried. What if my true love isn’t a regular guy, and I go around trying to find a regular guy and I miss my
real
soulmate because I’m not looking for him.”

“Rocky,” Rachel said, “quit obsessing. If Miriam said you’re going to marry a regular guy, you’re going to marry a regular guy. And from what I’ve heard, the minute you look at this guy, you’ll know—down deep.”

Down deep where? In her girl parts? Oh, yeah, she felt that sexual pull the first time she’d laid eyes on Hugh deBracy. She’d also been annoyed at him for being a snob.

But he wasn’t a snob, was he? He was…

She wouldn’t let her mind go there. Hugh was a decent human being.

“What’s got you so worried?” Rachel asked.

Caroline put the empty bottle down beside her feet then turned on the bleacher seat so she faced her aunt and her best friend. “Suppose you found someone, and you could see that he might fit Miriam’s advice, but he had a forecast of his own from Miriam that you knew you could never match? What then? Should you try to become the woman he’s looking for?” Not that Caroline could become an heiress, of course, but she asked the question anyway.

Aunt Arlene pushed her sunglasses up onto her frosted hair and gave Caroline one of those meaningful looks
that older women always give younger women when wisdom is about to be imparted. Caroline braced herself for the bad news. “Honey, I just don’t understand why you’re always thinking that you need to be somebody other than who you are. I think, in order to find your soulmate, or just to make a good marriage or relationship, you’ve got to be yourself. You can’t go pretending to be someone else just to please a man. That’s just dumb, and you’re smarter than that.”

“I
am
smarter than that. That’s what Sharon told me a long, long time ago. And that’s why I told Bubba no.”

“Exactly. So don’t go being dumb now, especially since I heard from your momma that you finally landed that job in Washington. When you find the right man, he’ll be all right with you being who you are, working for the senator and all. Trust me on this. Miriam helped me find my match, and your Uncle Pete never tried to change me.”

Caroline leaned over and dropped her arm across Arlene’s shoulders to give her a squeeze. Uncle Pete had passed away only a few weeks ago, after a long battle with cancer. Arlene was living alone for the first time in her life. “You doing okay, Arlene?”

She managed a trembling smile. “Yeah, I’m okay. But I sure do miss your uncle.”

“Me, too.” Caroline leaned in and gave Arlene a little kiss on the cheek.

Arlene gathered up her composure and batted Caroline away. “Don’t you get all syrupy on me now. Your uncle wouldn’t be happy about that. He was the happiest man I ever knew. And I’m trying to be happy without him.

“Here, have another beer.” Arlene leaned into her cooler and pressed another cold one into Caroline’s hand. She took a deep swallow. It tasted yeasty and better than anything Hugh had made for her the other night at Dottie’s. Maybe she should read the signs. Like she was a beer person, not a martini person.

The loudspeaker squawked, and engines roared to life. A string of dilapidated cars made their way onto the muddy rodeo arena. One of those cars—a beat-up Dodge—belonged to Bubba. Caroline could just see the ex-linebacker-turned-mechanic behind the wheel, wearing a crash helmet, the ends of this too-long hair coming out the back.

She swept her gaze around the crowd.

Her backside practically lifted right out of the chair the minute she saw Hugh. She hadn’t expected to see an English aristocrat at something as hopelessly lowbrow as a demolition derby. But then, hadn’t he told her that he’d helped Bubba work on the car?

The baron had climbed up to sit on one of the hay bales set up across the way. He and Dash were sitting together like they were a couple of old buddies. Hugh wore his faded jeans and a black T-shirt—an outfit that wasn’t that much different from what Dash was wearing. Hugh was drinking beer from a long-necked bottle. Dash was drinking a Coca-Cola.

Arlene gave Caroline a little nudge in the ribs and leaned in to scream in her ear over the revving of the motors. “Honey, who is that beautiful man sitting with Dash?”

“That, Aunt Arlene, is Hugh deBracy, Baron Woolham.”

Arlene leaned back, her eyes growing wide. “You
mean that man over there is the duke who knocked out Bubba’s teeth, got you drunk at Dotty’s, and then kissed you senseless at the kissing booth yesterday?”

“Wow, news does get around this town, doesn’t it?”

Arlene leaned in. “Honey, it all makes sense now.”

“What?”

“That man is cuter than a baby’s butt. And he’s… well, he must spend some of his time in the royal gym.”

Rachel laughed. “Yeah, he’s got some pretty impressive biceps there.”

“So what did Miriam tell him he needed to be looking for?” Arlene asked.

“She said he should be looking for a woman with a really big checkbook. You see, he’s undercapitalized, and if he can’t get Daddy’s land, he’s going back to England to marry an heiress named Lady Ashton.” She said the words and felt her throat close up. It was so unfair. Why couldn’t a girl like her have a guy like him? Like Cinderella.

She took another gulp of beer and could almost hear Sharon’s voice echoing through her head. Sharon had told her that a woman shouldn’t ever believe in Cinderella.

It sort of suggested that Sharon hadn’t been as happy in her marriage as Stone had been. And Caroline didn’t want to think about that. Was it possible that the whole Sharon and Stone thing was a myth, too? Like the Bubba and Rocky Show?

It didn’t matter. Sharon was right. A girl had to think with her head, not her private parts. And Hugh was not the one Miriam had forecast for her. Even if Hugh was kind of a regular guy in some respects, Caroline could
never overcome the reality of what Miriam said Hugh needed.

He didn’t need her. She had no fortune to give him.

Two hours later Bubba had once again won the day, smashing all comers with his hulking Dodge. The victor was celebrating down on pit row.

Caroline linked her arm through Rachel’s and practically dragged her down to where the celebration was taking place.

“Uh, maybe this is a huge mistake,” Rachel said.

“You cried over Bubba, Rachel. You said you thought you’d never get another chance. Well, I’m not about to let that happen.”

She stopped and gave Rachel a big hug. “Really, I want Bubba to have a life that doesn’t involve him mooning over me. So I would be so grateful to you and to God if it turns out that you and Bubba belong together, because honestly, I’ve been praying for him—a lot.”

Rachel let go of a little laugh. “I had a thing for him in middle school, but I knew he liked you more. I always thought, you know…” She shrugged, and her cheeks flushed.

“You should have told me. We’re friends. No secrets, right? And besides, you knew Bubba and I weren’t meant for each other.”

“Yeah. I knew it and you knew it, but Bubba didn’t. He always looked right through me. Until… well, to be honest, until Dash lassoed you off the float. So I guess maybe the whole Lasso Fiasco wasn’t such a fiasco after all.”

“Right. Just don’t tell Dash that, he’ll get a swelled head.” Caroline pulled her friend forward toward the
place where the steaming and smelly wrecks had been lined up.

They found Bubba surrounded by a group of good ol’ boys, including Dash, the Canaday brothers, two of Rachel’s younger siblings, and a bunch of guys from the Allenberg Fire Department. The testosterone was really flowing as the guys backslapped their momentary hero and poured beer over his head.

Caroline figured it was probably a good thing that Rachel was strictly a beer drinker and had never experimented with anything else in her entire life. Because Bubba was going to smell like some strange amalgam of motor oil, burning rubber, and hops.

“Hey, ya’ll,” Bubba yelled, exposing his gap-toothed smile. “I want you to meet my new buddy, Hugh.”

Bubba pulled Hugh forward and thumped him on the back like he was just another guy in the crowd. Then Bubba let go of what could only be described as a Rebel Yell.

“Ya’ll, this man is the best dang mechanic I have ever met. You shoulda seen the way he rebuilt my car’s engine. I mean I was stumped. Couldn’t get decent compression, and he just walked right up to that sucker and did his magic. I’m telling you, this guy is like an engine whisperer or something.”

Hugh managed to look right at home despite his fancy pedigree. He didn’t even look like he was slumming or looking down his long patrician nose. He was genuinely enjoying the moment.

“You know,” Rachel said, “it’s amazing how forgiving guys are. I mean, one minute Lord Woolham is breaking Bubba’s face, and the next, they are bosom pals and he’s helping him with his derby car.”

“Yeah,” Caroline agreed, “although to be honest, the idea of Bubba and Hugh being BFFs kind of makes me nauseous.”

Rachel turned toward Caroline. “Rocky, the time has come to act on our feelings, don’t you think?”


Our
feelings?”

“Yes, ma’am. I’m going to go get my man, because if I wait for him to notice me, it won’t happen. I think you should do the same thing. Because if you ask me, Hugh deBracy looks like a regular guy. And I can see that he’s got your panties in a twist.”

And with that, Rachel fearlessly stalked right through that knot of men, ignoring the way every single one of them (including Bubba) ogled her bare legs. She walked right up to Hugh, pointed a finger at him, and said, “You may be an engine whisperer, but you also broke Bubba’s face.”

The men kind of paused for a moment, not sure exactly how to react. But then Rachel did the amazing.

She turned, grabbed Bubba by the shoulders, and gave him a serious kiss right on the mouth that probably hurt his stitches. She pulled back and glowered at Hugh. “And that just pisses me off, your highness, because I got plans to kiss this boy silly.”

Bubba looked like he’d just been hit upside the head with a frying pan, but Rachel didn’t give him a moment to get his bearings. She went back to kissing him—with her entire body.

The good ol’ boys all let go of whoops and catcalls.

Not Hugh, thank goodness. There was a limit, really, and Caroline was so glad he hadn’t stepped over it. It was nice that he could hang with the boys, but it was equally sexy that he wasn’t exactly one of them.

Instead of hooting and hollering, his Lordship turned and spied Caroline standing slightly behind one of the hay bales. A slow smile filled his face. Laugh lines crinkled up at the corner of his eyes, and his whole face lit up from the inside.

Holy smokes, he had a great smile.

Rachel was right. If she had any kind of courage, she would go after him—even if he wasn’t exactly a regular guy. Because a fantasy like Hugh deBracy didn’t come along in a girl’s life very often.

She ought to run toward it. Live in the moment. Let it happen. In a few days, she’d be packing to go to Washington. She didn’t need or want a forever kind of thing.

Hugh stepped away from Bubba and strolled toward her, the multicolored fairground lights shining in his curls. “Rocky,” he said in that sexy accent, “you look lovely tonight.”

But she didn’t look lovely. She was dressed like a J.Crew junkie. She suddenly wished she had worn that pretty pink sundress that was still hanging in her closet. Right then, she wanted to be Rocky Rhodes in something summery and girly—maybe even something mysterious and foreign like her name.

But no, she was wearing a white polo shirt.

And he still thought she was lovely.

No one was watching them. Everyone was still paying attention to Rachel and Bubba. He knew it. She knew it.

So he leaned down and stole a kiss. It wasn’t like the kiss he’d bought yesterday. This one was as soft as the summer night, and just as hot and humid.

It didn’t last very long either. It was a perfect kiss—just deep enough and long enough to make her yearn
for more. He took her arm and deftly guided her away from the boys. They walked toward the midway, saying nothing.

Eventually he let go of her arm and took hold of her hand.

She let him.

His touch was as intimate as it got. He intertwined his fingers with hers and the pleasure she found in the slide of his fingers across hers was almost too much to bear.

“You don’t mind if I call you Rocky, do you?” Hugh asked, giving her hand the slightest squeeze.

“No.” Her voice came out hoarse and small as a tsunami of lust hit her chest, practically drowning her. This wasn’t love. She knew the difference.

But she still wanted it. If she let herself go, she could live one of her romances for a couple of hours. But she could also crash and burn—badly. So she pushed the fantasy away. “How did it go today with Cissy?” she asked.

“She made me an offer.”

Caroline stopped in her tracks. “An offer? Of money?”

Hugh dropped Caroline’s hand and turned toward her, the twinkling lights dancing in his eyes. “In a way. She offered to buy my loom technology and set up a factory near the I-85 corridor.”

The worry that had been nagging her all day made a sudden and sharp reappearance. “I thought you were lobbying the town council.”

“We did that, too. You know, the council is unanimous in thinking that it would be best if your father sold his land.”

“That doesn’t surprise me. Did you tell them about the swamp?”

“I did. Some of them believe that wetlands reclamation is not as big a deal as you do.”

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