Wild Texas Rose by Martha Hix

house.”
    Yanking away, she demanded, “Lemme tawk to Mariah!”
    â€œYou won’t have much privacy with the crowd you’re gathering.” He gestured to curious the eyes of several onlookers.
    Lois stepped through the crowd. “Behave yourself,” she hissed to Gail before turning to the observers. “Haven’t you got anything better to do than gawk? There’s a bride and groom waitin’ to cut the cake. Get goin’!”
    The bystanders receded, and Mariah watched Whit take the young woman’s arm once more. “Ready to go, honey?”
    â€œNot yet. I said I wanna tawk to Mariah.”
    â€œLeave her be,” Mariah said.
    Whit and Lois looked at her, making certain she was sincere, and, satisfied, they retreated. Mariah watched Whit stride through the barn, watched first one guest, then others, stop him to offer back slaps and cups of punch.
    â€œLet’s siddown.” Gail plopped down on two bales of hay that were stacked atop each other. She patted the adjacent makeshift chair. “Come on. I won’t bite.”
    Mariah smoothed her skirts, then eased onto the bale.
    â€œDidn’t I warn you today about Wh-Whit?” Gail covered her lips as she hiccupped again. “Better watch out.”
    â€œWe were dancing, that’s all.”
    â€œHe was gonna ki-kiss you.”
    â€œGail, that’s really, truly none of your business.”
    â€œDidn’t mean to be a busybody.” Her unfocused eyes blinked. “I’m just ... You gotta understand.”
    â€œUnderstand what?”
    â€œNothing. I’m just crazy t’night.” Gail shook her head. “Would you fetch me a cuppa coffee? Please.”
    Mariah scrutinized the young woman who was too young to be so troubled. Such a shame. She rose to her feet and started across the straw floor ... but then stopped in her tracks.
    Whit had his arm around Barbara Catley! A burst of jealousy flashed behind Mariah’s eyes. This morning the blonde had been wild-haired, crude, and devoid of lip rouge. Tonight, wearing a pale-blue gown of crossbar lawn and with her blond hair upswept, she was a vision of loveliness. Mariah glanced down at her own frock, wishing she had made a better effort at choosing her attire.
    Brown bombazine that had seen three years of wear could hardly compare with pastel lawn! Perhaps it was self-centered to wish herself the belle of Whit’s eye, but Mariah wished it nonetheless.
    Insanity! For crying out loud, she admonished herself, why shouldn’t he hold his lover close? Evidently they had settled their differences, and she ought to be happy for the spurned woman, the object of her pity just that morning. She should be pleased ... but wasn’t.
    Remembering her mission and the young woman whose problems were evidently much greater than clothes and male attention, Mariah sallied forth to the coffeepot.
    The steaming cup in her hand, she made a point not to look at the happy couple as she returned to the tipsy woman.
    â€œSee.” Gail pointed toward Whit and Barbara, who were stepping to a reel. Her voice had lost much of its slur. “He forgot our drinks. He’s too busy with that one. Don’t expect him back at the house tonight.”
    â€œI don’t.”
    â€œYou were.”
    â€œDrink your coffee,” Mariah said.
    Staring at Whit, Gail took the cup to her lips.
    Does he have anything to do with her drunken state? Mariah wondered. Though Gail was a married woman and related to Whit, did she have feelings for him that transcended familial ties?
    â€œYou love that fickle-hearted man, don’t you, Gail?”
    â€œSometimes.”
    â€œDo you love your husband?”
    â€œOh, yes.” Gail cupped her hands around the steaming mug. “It’s a different kind of love, though. Whit, I want to see happy. Ed, I try to make happy. Love of family, and romantic love. Understand?”
    â€œYes,” she