Forever Dreams (Montana Brides) Read online

  Karen smiled, “Its good practice for a wedding reception.”

  Gracie watched the color drain from Trent’s face. He wasn’t happy. It would be a big night for everyone, even bigger for a man looking for the perfect wife. Maybe he had performance issues. Stress could do funny things to some people, but she was ready and willing to give him a pep talk before the guests arrived.

  Trent flicked a glance her way. “Give me a yell if you need anything. I’ll be with Jordan.”

  Gracie smiled at his back, watching him make a quick getaway. The thought of a wedding reception must have scared him worse than she thought. He didn’t stand a chance against four available women, let alone a mother who had marriage on her mind.

  She added another handful of grapes to the fruit salad, moving out of Karen’s way as she placed two huge bowls of strawberries on the table. Roll on five o’clock. The scene was set, now it was up to fate and a desperate cowboy to take the lead role.

  Gracie stared at her reflection in the bathroom mirror. Even if she said so herself, she looked pretty good for a greenhorn from New Zealand. Her hair sat in a mass of soft curls around her face, thanks to half a bottle of conditioner and more than a few squirts of hairspray. A touch of eye shadow, a flick of mascara and a coat of the palest peach lipstick she owned kept her makeup understated and fresh. Unlike her dress.

  While she’d been shopping with Karen, Gracie had bought herself a saucy cowgirl outfit. As Karen had rightly pointed out, her reputation had already been embellished. A flirty little outfit should hardly come as a surprise to anyone that had heard Caitlin’s Wal-mart story.

  A pair of jeans and cowboy boots wouldn’t do for a woman mad enough to jump on a plane and travel thousands of miles to live with a cowboy she’d never met.

  The black cowgirl dress Gracie had chosen finished about four inches below her panty line. It hugged her body like a second skin. The only thing remotely demure about the outfit was the silver stitching embroidered around the collar and over the top of the short sleeves. A wide black belt sat low on her hips, complete with a big silver buckle covered with sparkly stones. Gracie slipped her feet into her favorite pair of ankle boots. Grabbing the black cowboy hat off her bed, she placed it on her head, admiring the way the crystal band twinkled in the bedroom lights.

  By the end of the night no one would be under the illusion that Trent McKenzie and Gracie Donnelly were a couple. Two of the four potential Mrs. Trent McKenzies would be crossed off his list, and two would have happy faces beside their names. Even if her feet lived to regret it, she’d dance with every cowboy in the room before she danced a single two-step with Trent. After tonight he’d be on his own. Gracie had helped him find a wife and it was up to him to find true love.

  Skimming an extra coat of lipstick across her mouth, she gave her reflection one last look. She glanced at the list beside her bed, tweaked her skirt, and headed toward the stairs into party command central. Show time had arrived.

  Trent glanced at his watch for the third time. If Gracie didn’t get down here soon, she’d miss the first group of guests parking in the back field.

  A wolf-whistle filled the living room. He looked across at Jordan. His brother was almost drooling on the spot. Turning around, Trent tried to see who or what had turned him to mush – and stopped breathing.

  Blood roared through his veins as Gracie sashayed down the stairs in an outfit made for pleasure. The sparkly buckle sitting low on her waist drew a man’s eye straight to her legs. She might not be tall, but she’d been designed for perfection. Gracie had just the right amount of curves to set a man’s mind to wondering how her body might feel nestled close against his. And a wicked sense of humor that knew what to do with those curves when she got there.

  His body tightened. He knew what those curves felt like, and call him selfish, he wasn’t inclined to share.

  She walked toward him, placing one of her fingers under his slack jaw. “You can swallow now, Trent.”

  He gazed down into her eyes, nearly throwing her over his shoulder when he saw the mischief lurking in their depths. “Gracie Donnelly, you can’t wear that dress in public.”

  Picking a stray piece of cotton from the front of his shirt, she fluttered her lashes and whispered, “Where would you like me to wear it?”

  Raw heat scorched his skin.

  She gazed up at him with big blue eyes full of laughter. “Are you ready to woo your ladies tonight, handsome?”

  He shook his head. If she walked into the barn wearing that outfit he’d spend all night making sure no cowboy started wooing her. Keeping tabs on the four remaining women on his list seemed insignificant compared to keeping tabs on Gracie.

  “Little Lady,” Jordan purred. “Why don’t you let my big brother sort out his guests while you and I take a walk on the wild side?”

  Trent glared at Jordan. Hogtying him in a field and leaving him there until the morning sounded like a mighty fine start to the evening.

  Gracie laughed, grabbing Trent’s arm. “Thanks for the offer, Jordan, but your brother and I have something to discuss. Save me a dance or two.” She ran her gaze around the room. “Come on, Trent. I think the only quiet place down here is going to be your office. Just keep looking straight ahead otherwise you’ll be given something to do.” She pulled him across the room, closing the office door behind them.

  He watched as she crossed her arms in front of her chest. Not a good idea. The bottom of her dress lifted half an inch toward heaven. Half an inch it couldn’t afford. “You can’t wear that outfit.” He sat down in his chair. “Every time you move, that damn dress rides up another notch.”

  Gracie looked down at her dress and grinned. “It’s not as bad as you think.”

  “Honey, that dress is every bit as bad as I think.”

  “No it’s not. I’ve got black exercise shorts on underneath so I’m practically decent.” At the look of disbelief on his face she laughed. “It’s true, look.” Lifting the bottom of her dress, she revealed a tight pair of black lycra shorts that were a couple of inches shorter than her dress. “Happy now?”

  Happy didn’t go anywhere near to describing how he felt. It had been years since a woman had so innocently lifted her skirt for him. Lots of not so innocent thoughts raced through his brain as his eyes had an up close and personal encounter with her legs.

  If he wanted to get out of this office in one piece he needed to ignore her skimpy outfit and find out what was on her mind. “Okay, Ms. Cowgirl. Would you mind telling me why you hauled me into the office when our guests have started arriving?”

  “I wanted to make sure you’ve got the jist of what you’re doing tonight. All of the ladies on your short-list are coming, so you’ve got no excuse not to get your options down to the top two. If you don’t manage that you won’t stand any chance of being married this side of Christmas.”

  “Did you bring a list of questions you want me to ask them?”

  Gracie rolled her eyes. “Don’t be tacky. But it wouldn’t be a bad idea to try and remember to ask them similar questions. Then you can compare their answers against each other.”

  “Are there any other pearls of wisdom you want to share before I brave the lion’s den and search out my first victim?”

  A huff of air escaped her lips. “You can’t call them victims, Trent. They’re dates…well, sort of. I’m sure you can manage to get around all four women in one night.”

  She sat down on the chair opposite him. Good God. That skirt just got a whole lot tighter and a whole lot shorter. She crossed her legs and he almost fell off his seat. “Umm, Gracie. I don’t think it’s a good idea to cross your legs like that. It might give someone the wrong impression.” He could feel heat fanning through his body as she stared at him with a bewildered expression on her face.

  Looking down at her legs, she blushed like a ripe beetroot. “Oh, for goodness’ sake. It’s just a little bit of leg. I’m perfectly respectable.” She did however, uncross her legs and sta
nd up, yanking the skirt of her dress down to cover her shorts. “Now that you’ve finished ogling my legs, can we get back to business? How do you feel?”

  God in heaven, what did the woman want? Blood? The only word that sprung to mind was horny. But if he said that, he’d end up on the receiving end of a slap on the face. “Stressed.” That just about covered every last inch of him.

  Gracie walked across the room. Hot darts of pleasure scorched his skin as her fingers rubbed his forearm, intending to sooth his worries away, but creating a whole lot more.

  “Don’t worry. If you feel it’s all gotten a bit much just say you need to go to the bathroom or something, and disappear for a few minutes to get yourself back on track. You’ll be fine. I’ve got complete confidence in you.”

  She gave his arm a final squeeze before turning toward the door. He needed that ‘bathroom or something’ stop now. Standing on shaky legs, he rearranged his trousers, trying to get more comfortable while her back was turned. “Honey, I feel sorry for any man unlucky enough to set your radar buzzing. He wouldn’t stand a chance against you.”

  “It all comes down to careful planning and good execution.”

  She poked her head out the office door and that damn skirt rode even higher.

  “The coast is clear. Let’s go, hotshot. Your ladies are waiting.”

  Gracie stared at the twinkling fairy lights wrapped in tight loops around the rafters of the barn. She took another bite from her cob of fresh corn, blinking as a squirt of juice hit her in the eye. Her gaze swept the barn, watching everyone have a good time. It should have been easy to enjoy the dance but she felt like the Christmas Grinch on a bad day. And it was all her fault.

  She should have left Trent to sort out his own love life, but she couldn’t leave him stranded in a sea of single females. So in blissful ignorance, she’d asked Karen to point out the women Trent had short-listed.

  She’d already met Katie, but wrongly assumed her physical attributes were a genetic abnormality. After seeing the other three candidates she knew she’d been wrong. So wrong that it would have been funny if it had been another man’s list. The top qualifiers for a life of marital bliss with Trent McKenzie included legs that stretched as far as the moon and big boobs.

  The cowboy in question was busy schmoozing lady number three. Even a snail would have noticed that they were enjoying each other’s company. It looked like a mutual admiration society had formed in the middle of rural Montana.

  Jo-Jo Allen turned out to be a brunette that more than met Trent’s strict prerequisites. She also had a face Aphrodite would have been proud to call her own. Jo-Jo had chosen to wear a snug pair of jeans and a skimpy pink t-shirt that showed more than a few inches of toned midriff. She leaned into Trent when he spoke to her, and every now and again her hand brushed along his forearm.

  Yuk. Gracie knew there had to be something wrong with Jo-Jo to look so good but still be single. Squinting into the distance, she thought she could see the tell-tale signs of a woman on the verge of forty. But that could have been the squirt of corn juice blurring her vision.

  She probably had the intelligence of a horse. Maybe even a body odor problem that kept men at bay.

  Jordan sat down beside her, a plate of food piled to the brim. “Cheer up. Trent knows how to handle Jo-Jo. She likes her men handsome and rich. Not necessarily single, if you get my meaning.”

  “Jordan McKenzie, it doesn’t matter to me who Trent decides to spend his time with. That’s the whole point of the dance. To mix and mingle.”

  “Sure, Gracie.”

  Her face sizzled as hot as the steak Jordan chomped into. It was time to distract him from this line of discussion otherwise she’d get herself into trouble. “Who’s the blonde girl in the red dress I saw you dancing with a while ago?”

  It was his turn to get a bit hot under the collar. A faint blush stained his cheeks as he looked out across the barn. “Tracey Wood. She lives in Billings.”

  Gracie peered into his face. “Have you known her long?”

  “Since college.”

  Picking up another cob of corn, she kept munching. Her feet ached from all the dancing she’d been doing, so she wiggled her toes, trying to ease the tension in her feet. If she’d had half a brain she would have kicked her boots off by now and danced in bare feet. But she wasn’t giving up the extra inches they added to her height. Especially after seeing Trent shuffle-step his way across the dance floor with lady number two, the voluptuous Katie Jenkins.

  As the music continued to rattle through the rafters, Jordan kept her amused with stories about high-school. He pointed out so many people that she lost track of all their names.

  Karen sighed as she sat on the hay bale beside Gracie. “What a night. I don’t think my legs have stopped dancing since I walked into the barn. How’s everything going?”

  Apart from figuring out that Trent had gotten further under her skin than she’d thought, Gracie felt just great. “Couldn’t be better.”

  Karen shot her a suspicious look. “Have you seen much of Trent?”

  Jordan laughed. “He’s got a fan club circling him. Every time I see him he’s got his arm locked around a new woman.”

  Gracie should have felt relieved. She didn’t.

  Word must have gotten out that Trent McKenzie was looking for a wife. As soon as he’d hit the dance floor he’d been swamped with women trying his boots out for size. Their flirty glances and not so subtle wiggles were enough to make Gracie want to stay single for the rest of her life.

  She sat a little straighter, determined to ignore Trent’s fan club. Watching Mr. Desperate juggle a dozen women wasn’t the only reason she’d come to the dance. “Have you seen Kristina Green, Karen?”

  “She couldn’t make it. Her son’s competing in a rodeo competition in Idaho. With Jim still away she decided to go and cheer Alex on.”

  Gracie sighed. Plan B had turned out to be a fizzer as well.

  A tall man in his sixties walked toward them. He tipped the brim of his hat and smiled at Karen. “I thought I’d come and get you before you dance with someone else. Would you like some dessert?”

  A soft blush skimmed Karen’s cheeks. Gracie looked at Jordan. The twinkle in his eye told her that the man grinning at his mom wasn’t a stranger.

  “That would be lovely, Jeff.” She stood up and brushed hay off the back of her skirt. She hooked her hand around his elbow and smiled into his weather beaten face. “Lead the way my friend.”

  Gracie watched Karen and her dessert date circle the room. “Who’s Jeff?”

  “Jeff Lafferty. He owns a ranch about twenty miles from here. They’ve known each other for years.” Jordan’s gaze followed his mom. “He’s a good man.”

  Tess sat down. “You both look far too glum for a barn dance.” She handed Gracie a paper plate with a thick slice of cake perched on top. “I recommend the chocolate mudcake Doris made. It’s incredible. Hi, Jordan.”

  Jordan smiled, and then looked at the plate in Gracie’s hands. “Did you bring some for me?”

  “Are you kidding?” Tess grinned at the disappointed look on Jordan’s face. “I had to fight off half the people here to get this much. There’s more on the dessert table, but I wouldn’t wait too long. There are a lot of sweet-toothed people here tonight.”

  Jordan shot up from the hay bale. “Nice talking with you ladies, but I’ve got a hot date with dessert lined up. See you later.”

  Tess laughed as they watched Jordan’s broad shoulders weave through the people on the dance floor. “That man lives for food. When he comes to town he clears out my entire supply of muffins in one swoop.”

  “That’s because you’re a great cook and you love what you do.” Gracie bit into the piece of cake in her hands. Gooey chocolate fudge melted in her mouth. “Delicious.”

  “I’m making mudcake next week in the café. Doris gave me her recipe. Who’s Trent dancing with?”

  Gracie scanned the dance-floor. Option one had
her body squashed against Trent’s chest, looking like a woman in lust. “Nicky Scotson.”

  “Gary and Maureen’s daughter? I thought she’d left for some high-flying accounting job in Denver.”

  Gracie shrugged her shoulders. Denver sounded like a great career move. Especially when Nicky favored tight blue jeans and a white shirt that outlined a body that didn’t belong on an accountant. Gracie had spent half the night trying to ignore the women curled around Trent’s body. He’d barely made it out of one woman’s arms before someone else claimed him for a dance. He had so many choices for the next Mrs. McKenzie it was a wonder his head didn’t spin off his neck.

  “Are you alright?” Tess’s blue eyes were full of worry.

  “I’m fine. Just a bit tired.” And heartsore. Gracie took another bite of cake.

  “I know just the thing to cure whatever’s bugging you.” Tess’s smile was mischievous. “Grab that hat of yours because these two cowgirl imports are going to show the locals how a line dance should look.”

  Gracie looked in horror at the dance floor. The music had stopped, Trent had disappeared, and half the people around them were hustling into the middle of the barn. “You’ve got to be joking? I’ve never line danced in my life.”

  “Stick with me, we can’t go wrong.” Tess grabbed her arm and pulled her upright.

  Before Gracie knew what was happening she’d been swallowed whole by the crowd, shuffle stepping between denim-clad bodies moving in a wave across the barn. The only good thing about being directionally challenged was that she couldn’t see what Trent was up to. And that suited her just fine.

  Trent slipped out the side door of the barn. Thank God he’d been able to disappear before another woman decided to haul him onto the dance floor. Getting the four women on his list together at the same time had seemed like a great idea. But as soon as Jo-Jo Allen wrapped her manicured nails around his neck he knew he was in trouble. By the time Mary-Beth curled her body around his, he’d been ready to make a run for his life.