Country Proud (Painted Pony Creek #2) - Linda Lael Miller Page 0,26

things to do out here in the Wild West.”

“Can we ride horses?” Davey asked, eyes wide. “And go fishing?”

“Absolutely,” Brynne said, blinking rapidly to hold back tears that would only confuse the children.

“Thanks, Brynne,” Clay put in, his voice hoarse again. “We’ll be in touch about the arrangements closer to spring break. In the meantime, well, have yourself a very happy New Year.”

“You, too,” Brynne said.

And then he was gone.

Brynne waited to feel that tearing-away sensation common to breakups, even after some time had passed, but it didn’t come. All she felt was exuberant anticipation—Davey and Maddie were coming to visit, at long last.

She could barely wait.

The call went on for about twenty more minutes, while the kids told Brynne about their school, their friends, the things they’d given and received for Christmas. Once again, they’d thanked Brynne for the books she’d sent as gifts.

When it was over, when goodbyes had been said and the laptop screen showed the Boston skyline again, Brynne reached for her teacup, took a sip and realized the stuff had gone stone-cold.

She smiled, carried the cup to the sink, emptied it and placed it on the top rack of the dishwasher. Since she took most of her meals downstairs, it often took days to fill the machine.

It was still early, and the preparations for tonight’s big celebration were complete, for the time being. Around six, when the doors opened for business and the first crop of celebrants showed up, she would be there to greet them, the consummate hostess.

She had a special outfit for the occasion, an off-white, somewhat clingy dress covered in tiny faux pearls and crystals, designed to shimmer glamorously in changing light. She planned to pin her chin-length hair up, leaving a few wisps and tendrils to dangle in strategic places, and she would wear her best earrings, diamond-and-pearl studs her folks had given her for college graduation.

She would spritz on some perfume and even put on makeup. Mascara, eye shadow, a very light dusting of blusher.

As for shoes, well, she’d chosen a pair of sexy heels, a close match to her dress.

It was more effort than she would usually have made, even for New Year’s Eve, but she was a businesswoman, she told herself. She had to maintain a certain image, even in remote Painted Pony Creek.

She was dressing up for the community in general, not Sheriff Eli Garrett.

Okay, not just for him.

Eli might not even show up, given that there would be plenty of drunk drivers on the road on this night of nights. Bailey’s would be packed, but places like Sully’s Bar and Grill would do plenty of business, too, and that meant both the small local police department and the sheriff’s people would be on high alert.

Since the big snowstorm, there had been a significant thaw, but according to the weather forecast, the temperature would drop below freezing as the evening went on, and stay there. That, of course, meant the roads would be icy and thus dangerous, even for sober people.

Like Brynne’s crew of volunteer drivers, for instance.

She closed her eyes and offered a brief, silent prayer for the safety of everyone concerned.

Then she went to the refrigerator, took out a cucumber, whacked off two slices with a chef’s knife and returned what was left to the vegetable crisper. She’d cried a little, during the video call with Davey and Maddie, though she was fairly sure they hadn’t noticed, and she hadn’t slept well the last few nights, worrying about the New Year’s Eve bash.

Thinking about Eli.

Going back and forth. Should she get involved?

Or shouldn’t she?

She’d kick off her shoes and lie down for a while, cover her eyes with the cucumber slices and, hopefully, emerge from her rest restored.

The moment she’d stretched out on her bed, Waldo leaped up to join her, landing in the middle of her stomach like a medicine ball.

Brynne gasped aloud, then laughed.

The cat curled up beside her, purring contentedly.

And Brynne, who hadn’t slept properly in several days, dropped into a deep and dreamless slumber, cossetted by the sweet darkness of oblivion.

Waldo awakened her some two hours later. He was sitting next to her head, nibbling away at one of the cucumber slices.

Brynne bolted upright, sure she’d overslept. Maybe even missed the party.

Clarity soon returned, however. There was light at the bedroom window, though it was growing dimmer by the minute.

A glance at her bedside clock reassured her further—five thirty. She still had an hour and a half to shower, get dressed