Free Western Pleasure (The Texas Two-Step Series, a Novella) by Kathy Carmichael

 
     
     
    Chapter 1

     
    Careful not to trip, Ellen Murphy instructed herself as she toted platters of cupcakes through the slippery marble-floored hotel lobby to the ballroom.
    The organizers of the Children's Hospital charity dinner had dimmed the lighting in the small ballroom set aside as the auction room to discourage attendees from wandering into the auction area too early. From the service-door entrance, Ellen noted that on the far side of the small ballroom only a room divider separated it from the grand ballroom. A single divider panel remained open for organizers to easily pass back and forth between the two rooms.
    The small ballroom was filled with long tables running down the center, covered with crisp, white linen tablecloths and gold satin runners. Most of the auction items had already been set up.
    Ellen headed toward the banquet table at the far side of the ballroom, to the table specifically set up to display Ellen's famous cupcakes.
    After the death of her husband six years ago, she'd needed to find a job. As a homemaker with a nearly grown son, Ellen didn't have many suitable job-market skills, but she knew how to bake one heck of a cupcake, and thus launched a successful baking career. Recently she'd hung up her apron at her son's insistence she should enjoy herself now that money was no longer a worry. After one Caribbean cruise, she'd come home and re-donned her apron. She couldn't give it up entirely, not when she received so much pleasure baking cupcakes for various charities, especially those benefitting children.
    Tonight's event was a little more boisterous than the usual charity ball. Rather than the typical orchestra music, a country band played square dance tunes. Elegantly clad attendees swirled and swooped through a do-si-do.
    It was such a good idea. Most of the men wore cowboy boots below their tuxedos, as did some of the women with the latest designer evening gowns. Some wore their hair in sky-kissing beehives.
    Ellen turned back to the table and placed the final platter of cupcakes in the spot she'd reserved for it. She'd already arranged tiered platters holding boxed sets of cupcakes in the rest of the available space, but this final platter was for individual sale. People loved having their boxed cupcakes and eating them, too.
    Goose bumps prickled her skin and she straightened. Someone was approaching.
    Turning, in the dim lighting she could just make out the silhouette of a tall, slender man walking toward her. Clad in a black tuxedo like most of the guests, his wide shoulders and trim waist appealed to that feminine part of her she'd thought she'd lost after the death of her husband. Go figure.
    She couldn't keep her eyes off the man. With each step he took toward her, the impossible-to-ignore crackling energy emanating from him grew stronger. How had she not noticed him before?
    The country music changed cadence just as the man reached her side. "Care for a little Western Pleasure?"
    Little bells and whistles went off in her head. This hunk was interested in Western Pleasure? With her? Don't be silly, she told herself. It's the dance. He means the square dance.
    "I'm sorry, but I'm just here to set out the cupcakes for the auction," she said, before looking into his dark eyes. Oh my goodness. It was Jim Turner. "Jim! I haven't seen you in forever."
    "It's been too long."
    It seemed like eons. "When was it, the holiday dinner at the country club?"
    "Yeah, I was only able to put in a short appearance. You look really good, Ellen."
    Why was she feeling all fluttery and girly? This was Jim, her dear friend who'd helped her and her son, Davis, with the aftermath of Ben's sudden and unexpected death. Jim, who'd spent hours going over the paperwork with her. Jim, who'd helped her deal with the nearly indecipherable finances. Jim, who'd dried her tears and done his best to comfort a grieving and completely distraught widow. Surely it was simply fondness setting her senses soaring?
    He