The Marriage Charm (Bliss County 2) by Linda Lael Miller Page B

apparel lately. Like a few hours ago.
    Lamely she muttered, “He seems to keep in shape.”
    “You noticed. Yeah, he was staring at you, and you looked his way more than once, too.”
    She got up. “Is there a particular point to this conversation?”
    “H-E-double toothpicks, there sure is, as your grandmother used to say.” Bex watched her move to the sink. “I so loved that woman. She could genteel-swear like no one. For instance, today is hotter than Blixen. I remember her saying that as she served us those cookies with the sprinkles on them. Blixen? What does that mean? Can’t be the reindeer when we’re talking about high summer in Wyoming. She was such a character.”
    “I loved her, too, but you’re drifting off topic, Bex.”
    Bex sobered. “I can’t speak for him, since he’s his own man, but if I had to call it, Spence is still interested.”
    The question was, in what?
    *
    T HE GROUND WAS hard as hell.
    Spence drove down the post-hole digger and winced as the reverberations rocketed up his arms. They could use some rain, no doubt about it.
    That was the only thing in this life he was certain about at the moment.
    Shirtless and panting, he wiped a bandanna across his forehead and grabbed a drink of water. Harley sat in the blowing grass, head down on his paws, and watched him work while Reb grazed.
    He’d be more than content to work away at a chore that wasn’t the most pleasant in the world, since he was out of doors, it was a nice day and all of that was good, but...
    His interesting morning was now like a burr under his saddle.
    Melody had turned him down. No date for dinner, nothing.
    Really?
    She hadn’t turned him down for sex, though. She’d been on board for that, and he couldn’t deny that her response to every touch, every whisper, had been even better than he remembered, but he also couldn’t deny that when he’d called her, there’d been a distance between them.
    It was possible that he deserved it, but he was damned if he could figure out why.
    He slammed the post-hole digger into the ground. “She’s going to run like a spooked mule deer, isn’t she?”
    Neither Harley nor Reb made a sound, but they did look up in unison. There was sympathy in their eyes, and that made him feel somewhat better but solved none of his problems. Reb came closer and snorted softly as he nudged his shoulder. He stroked the horse’s nose. Huskily, he reassured him, “It’s going to be okay. I need to find a balance and so does she. Once upon a time, I disappointed her, but I still stand by that decision.”
    The single best thing about talking to a horse and dog—as long as no one else overheard and slapped an insane sticker on your medical record—was that they just listened.
    “She was too young.” He swept his hair back with a gloved hand, probably leaving a streak of dirt behind. He needed a shower anyway after a job like this, so that point was moot. “Give me a break.”
    They did. That might be why they got along so well.
    His phone rang. It was a miracle that he had reception at all, and he pulled it from his pocket and tugged off a glove so he could answer it. Junie said, “Howdy, boss.”
    “You’re calling me on a Sunday. What’s going on?”
    “The good news or the bad news?”
    “Junie, give it to me straight.”
    “Thought you might like to know Estes ticketed the speeder you called in. Reckless driving. Thirty over the limit when he hit the outskirts of town. The kicker is that the driver was Judge Randolph’s kid, so Estes didn’t arrest him, although he could have. He’s all nervous now, Estes is, second-guessing himself. Not the kid’s first ticket.”
    A new headache he didn’t really need. “Thanks for the heads-up,” he said with a sigh. “I expect I’ll get a call, though Randolph would be the first one to hit the driver with what he calls ‘the full weight of the law.’ Tell Estes I’ll handle it.”
    “I expect you’re right about the call. You