Free Have Cowboy, Need Cupid by Rita Herron Page B

no right.
    She climbed the stairs to the apartment and let herself in, thinking of Rebecca and how happy she seemed now. How she would be crawling into bed in her new house with her new husband tonight.
    How she herself would be sleeping alone.
    Envy skated through Suzanne. Then she glanced at the sapphire ring on her finger and her stomach knotted. What was she going to tell James? Did she want to marry him and spend every day by his side and every night in his arms?
    From the bedroom, the hope chest drew her eye. She’d almost forgotten about it, but she’d left it here after Rebecca’s wedding because it wouldn’t fit in her car. The top of the trunk lay open and she spotted the lacy pair of Western boots, that lace choker, and the bridal hat that reminded her of a Stetson. And those knitting needles….
    An odd feeling zinged through her, and she glanced down at the cowboy boots. No, those items did not have any significance. She was not meant to be a cowboy’s bride.
    Suddenly the telephone rang. She glanced at the caller ID and frowned. The ring tightened on her finger.
    It was James. Did he want an answer to his proposal?

Chapter Seven
    Suzanne let the machine take the message. “Hey, this is James. Just wondering how it went with McAllister today. I’m sure you have him wrapped around your finger by now, ready to sell. Oh, and I have some more information on his family, it’s about his father, some pretty shady stuff. If things get desperate, we might be able to use it. Call me.”
    She stared at the handset. Did she really want to know the information he had on Rafe’s family? Something shady about his father?
    Did Rafe know whatever it was James had uncovered?
    That’s the tree where Frank and I said our vows, Rafe’s mother had said. I can still hear his voice whispering to me through the pines at night.
    Suzanne shivered. Had Rafe’s mother known the shady things her husband had done and loved him anyway? If they used the info, would Suzanne wind up hurting the frail old woman and Rafe by shattering their loving memories?
    Confused, she headed to the shower to wash off the smell of the horses and the feeling of deceit that lingered on her skin from cozying up to his mother.
    But she hadn’t been playing up to Mrs. McAllister. She had really enjoyed the older woman’s company. The conversation, the tranquility of the screened porch, even the crocheting lessons.
    Which scared her even more.
    She had realized how much she’d missed her own mother. She thought about the afternoons they might have spent shopping, the photos her mother would have taken as she’d dressed for her first dance, the selection of her first prom dress together. Maybe she’d have taught her to sew.
    How would her life have been different if her mother hadn’t died when Suzanne was so young? What advice would she have given her about boyfriends? Would she have shared stories about how she and her father had met? Told her all the things he’d refused to talk about…?
    Now that she’d gotten to know Rafe’s mother, could Suzanne reveal some family secret that might hurt her?

    R AFE SPENT ALL DINNER listening to his mother rave over her visit with Suzanne.
    “She is the sweetest thing I ever met, and pretty, too. Don’t you think she’s pretty, Rafe?”
    He harrumphed and tore his biscuit in two, spreading butter in between the flaky pieces.
    “Well, you are blind, son, if you didn’t notice. And she can cook. Some girls these days are so spoiled they can’t boil water. Every woman needs to know her way around a kitchen.” She scooped a spoonful of gravy on her mashed potatoes. “After all, the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach. Girls these days forget that.”
    “That’s because they’re more interested in their careers than being wives,” Rafe pointed out.
    “Some women can juggle both, though, don’t you think?”
    “I guess.”
    “I reckon we have to get with the times, son, although, I would