Cowboy Strong - Carolyn Brown Page 0,50

her, not even with a simple sign like a beautiful sunset. Maybe He wanted something bigger, like a promise that she’d never go to the Wild Cowboy again or that she’d change religions and become a nun. Right then, she would have been willing for almost anything, but no answers came and no agreement was reached. Pax nosed the truck into a parking space not far from the school cafeteria, and she put away all her bargaining tools with a sigh.

“You sure you’re all right?” Pax asked.

“I’m fine,” she said. “Just a lot on my mind.”

“Well, let’s go forget all about those wedding plans and have a good time,” Bridget said. “I haven’t been to a party in months. Thank goodness Iris decided to come to the ranch a little early and watch Laela. Now I can have a good time without worrying about the baby all evening. Iris told me that if I call more than once to check on them that I’m in trouble.”

“That sounds like her,” Alana said. “I sure wouldn’t worry about my child if she was babysitting for me.”

“So have y’all talked about kids?” Maverick asked.

“We’ve got to get through all this wedding stuff before we think about that,” Pax said as he got out of the truck and opened the door for Alana.

“Well, I hope y’all don’t wait too long. I want Laela to grow up with lots of cousins,” Bridget said as she and Maverick got out of the truck and headed toward the door where music was floating out of the cafeteria.

Pax took Alana’s hand in his. “Would you have done all this again if you’d known about wedding showers, wedding planners, and now talk of kids?”

“Yep,” she said. “I’d do anything to make Daddy happy.”

They followed Maverick and Bridget through the doors and down the hallway.

“That was my locker right there.” Maverick pointed.

“And mine was on the end,” Alana told Bridget. “Pax’s was beside his. Wouldn’t it be something if these old things could talk?”

“I would imagine that they’ve been used by dozens and dozens of classes coming through the Daisy school, so each one could probably tell enough stories to fill a book,” Bridget said.

“Yep.” Pax nodded. “And Alana’s would be a romance novel.”

“Oh, hush!” She bumped him with her hip. “Mine would be a little Christian novel compared to yours and Maverick’s. Y’all’s would border on erotica.”

“Tell me more,” Bridget giggled.

“Later,” Alana whispered. “Right now, we have to go inside and fight off the crowds of women who are probably already gossiping about us.”

“Poor darlin’s. At least we’re giving them something to brighten their days,” Bridget said as Maverick pushed open the door for her.

As soon as they were inside, several of the girls Alana had graduated with came over to make noises about her engagement ring. The lyrics from that old country song about always being sixteen in your hometown played through her mind as she held out her hand. No one among this group where she was the center of attention was a teenager anymore, but put them all together, and by damned if they really did act like they had in high school—all drama, flipping hair around and flirting. Most of them were married and had kids. A few were even on their second marriages, and at least two of them were past that and working on their third set of wedding plans. As far as Alana was concerned that last bunch was bat crap crazy. Thank God for the wedding planner her father had hired or she’d already be certifiably insane with all the preparations. Thinking about going through all the process three times was enough to give her a case of the hives.

“I can’t believe that you’re really going to marry Paxton,” Melissa said. A short blonde who was thirty pounds heavier than when she’d been a high school cheerleader, she’d dressed in a skintight dress that barely reached her now chubby knees. She’d gotten a divorce from her second husband and kept scanning the room, as if she was looking for number three.

She went on her tiptoes and cupped a hand around Alana’s ear. “But then I suppose you finally caught him with the oldest trick in the books.”

“So when’s the baby due?” Danielle asked. She’d been one of the other cheerleaders in high school and was still so thin that even skinny jeans looked like they were hanging on a hoe handle. She’d had quite the reputation for sleeping only with guys

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