A Cowboy Comes Home

Seth waved them off. “We’ll see you at the restaurant.”

Abigail hit the unlock button for the vehicle, and its lights flashed twice. “They can go find a cigar bar or something.”

“Did Travis put you up to this?” Mandy asked across the roof of the vehicle.

Abigail gave her a blank look. “What do you mean? Why would Travis care what we do?”

Mandy peered closely at her sister. Abigail wasn’t the greatest liar in the world. And she always had been much more interested in hair, makeup and fashion than Mandy. Maybe this was some kind of a bizarre coincidence.

“So, you just want to go shopping?”

“No,” said Abigail. “I want to go shopping, hit the hair salon and get our makeup and nails done. I’d also suggest a facial, but I don’t think we have that kind of time.”

“Fine.” Mandy threw up her hands in defeat. “Let’s go be girls.”

Abigail grinned and hopped into the driver’s seat.

They drove the five miles to Springroad Mall, parked next to the main entrance, stopped to make sure the salon could fit them in later in the afternoon, then made their way through the main atrium to Blooms, the town’s biggest high-end ladies’ wear store. It occurred to Mandy that the last thing she’d purchased here was a prom dress.

“Something with a kick,” said Abby, leading the way past office wear and lingerie. “I want a little lift in my skirt when I’m dancing.”

“What happened to you in Denver?” Mandy couldn’t help asking.

“I realized life was short,” Abigail responded without hesitation. “I should be out there having fun and meeting people. So should you.” She stopped in front of a rack of dresses.

“I’m really interested in the campaign,” Abigail continued. “But I’ll admit, at first, I wasn’t crazy about the idea of spending so much time in Lyndon and Denver. But now I’m really looking forward to it. I’m going to stretch my wings.”

Suddenly, Mandy become worried. “You’re not planning to leave the ranch, are you?” They’d already lost one sister to the bright lights of a big city.

“Of course not. Not permanently, anyway. But I do want to test other waters. And this seems like a good time to do it.” She held up an emerald-green dress. “What do you think? Does the color go with my hair?”

Abigail’s hair was shoulder length and auburn. Colors could be challenging for her, but the green was perfect.

“Absolutely,” Mandy replied.

A salesclerk arrived, offering to start a dressing room for each of them. She took Abigail’s choice of the green dress, and they moved on to the next rack.

Abigail quickly selected another. “You should go for red,” she exclaimed, holding up a short, V-necked, cinnamon-red dress. It had black accents and a multilayered skirt that would swirl when she danced.

“Oh, sure,” Mandy drawled sarcastically. “That looks just like me.”

“That’s the point. ‘You’ are blue jeans and torn T-shirts. We need to find something that is completely not you.”

“My T-shirts aren’t torn,” Mandy protested. Okay, maybe one or two of them were, but she wore those only when she was mucking out stalls or painting a fence.

Abigail waved the dress at the salesclerk, who promptly took it from her arms and whisked it off to the dressing room.

Abigail’s next choice was basic black. She considered one with a sequined bodice, but discarded it. Mandy had to agree. They were going to the Weasel. It was a perfectly respectable cowboy bar, but it wasn’t a nightclub.

They ended up with four dresses each. Mandy considered they were all too formal, but her sister seemed to be having such a good time, she didn’t want to be the wet blanket.

In her dressing room, she put off the red dress to the very last. She tried a strapless, straight-skirted design in royal blue, but they all agreed the neckline didn’t work. Then a basic black cocktail dress, which was too close to one of the few she already owned. Then she tried a patterned, empire-waist, knee-length concoction, with cap sleeves and a hemline ruffle. It made her look about twelve. Abigail actually laughed when she walked out to model it.

Abigail had already decided to go with the green, so she was waiting in her regular clothes when Mandy exited the dressing room in the red dress.

Her grin was a mile wide. “It’s stunning,” she pronounced.

The salesclerk nodded her agreement. “I wish I had legs like that,” she commented, looking Mandy up and down. “It fits you perfectly.”

Mandy glanced to her legs. She didn’t see anything particularly interesting about them. They held her up, helped her balance on a horse and could walk or jog for miles when necessary. That’s all that counted.

“You probably want to shave them before we go out.”

“Thanks tons, sis.”

“But I’ve never seen you look so beautiful,” Abigail declared. “You absolutely have to get it.”

“I don’t know when I’ll ever wear it again,” Mandy glanced at the price tag. It was about three times as much as she’d ever spent on a dress before.

“Well, you’ll wear it tonight,” said Abigail.

“And after that?”

“After that, who knows. You’re about to become the sister of the Mayor of Lyndon.”

The salesclerk gave Abigail a curious look.

“Our brother Seth Jacobs is running for mayor this fall,” Abigail put in smoothly. “Make sure you vote.”

“There’ll be the swearing-in dance,” the clerk offered to Mandy. “And that’s always formal.”

“We’re only going to the Weasel tonight,” Mandy noted, considering different angles in the mirror.

Okay, so the dress did look pretty darn good. It accentuated her waist. It would twirl enticingly while she danced. And it showed just enough cleavage to be exotic without being tacky. She wouldn’t mind Caleb seeing her in this.

Behind her, in the mirror, the salesclerk waved a dismissive hand. “You can wear anything to the Weasel. Lots of the younger girls dress up to go there, especially on a Friday night.”

“There you go,” said Abigail. She glanced at her watch. “You’d better made a decision quick because we have to get to the Cut and Curl.”

Mandy drew a breath. Okay. The red dress it was. Her lips curled into an involuntary smile. “You talked me into it.”

Nine

If Mandy was trying to drive Caleb stark raving mad, she was certainly going about it the right way. Her hair was up. Her heels were high. And the professionally applied makeup had turned her face from beautiful to stunning.

Her sassy red dress was enough to give a man a coronary.

When they walked into the Weasel, he hadn’t even bothered asking her to dance, simply swirled her out onto the crowded dance floor and wrapped her tightly in his arms, before anybody else could get their hands on her. Since then, he’d been shooting warning glares at any guy who dared look twice.

Abigail was also quick to attract her share of partners. Caleb and Seth parked it at the bar, ordering up a round of beers.

Once he recovered the power of speech, Caleb put his lips close to Mandy’s ear, keeping the volume of his voice just above the music of the country band. “You look gorgeous.”

“You like?” she asked.

“I love.”

She grinned at him, showing straight, white teeth, while her eyes flashed emerald. “Abby made me buy