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Title Page Dedication CHAPTER ONE CHAPTER TWO CHAPTER THREE CHAPTER FOUR CHAPTER FIVE CHAPTER SIX CHAPTER SEVEN CHAPTER EIGHT CHAPTER NINE CHAPTER TEN Copyright
Question: How do you find the perfect man?
Answer: Read on....
Texas Grooms Wanted! is a brand-new miniseries in Harlequin Romance®.
Meet three wonderful heroines who are all looking for very special Texas men—their future husbands!
Good men may be hard to find, but these women have experts on hand. They’ve all signed up with the Yellow Rose Matchmakers. The oldest—and the best!—matchmaking service in San Antonio, Texas, the Yellow Rose guarantees to find any woman her perfect partner...
So, for the cutest cowboys in the whole state of Texas, read:
Only cowboys need apply ..
Name: Ruth Jean Dale
Age: 39 and holding.
Occupation: Romance author
Marital status: Married, one of the few things I managed to get right the first time around
Ideal partner: The one I’ve got He may be the only man in the Western world able to put up with my eccentricities—and I happily return the favor.
Worst dating experience: So long ago I don’t even remember, although I do recall I kissed a few frogs before finding my prince Fortunately, all you need is one if he’s the right one! I guess that’s why I write romance—because I found my own happy ending was just the beginning.
www.millsandboon.co.uk
For Day Leclaire,
who roamed San Antonio and the Hill Country of Texas
with me to research this book
(and hers).
If you’ve got bulls to herd, Day’s your cowgal!
CHAPTER ONE
From: SuperScribe@BoyHowdy.com
Sent: Sunday, Nov. 1, 9:42 p.m.
To: MataHari@Upzydazy.com
Subject: Enough, already!
Okay, Emily, I’ve been patient but I know you and if you don’t hustle your buns over to the Yellow Rose ASAP, you never will. A promise is a promise (not that you owe me or anything). :-) (Smile) What’s your problem? You *could* get lucky....
THE first thing that caught Emily Kirkwood’s attention Monday when she entered Yellow Rose Matchmakers in San Antonio, Texas, was the fragrance of roses.
The second thing that caught her attention was the best-looking cowboy in the world.
One of those two things stopped her in her tracks. She preferred to think it was the perfumed air, since she wasn’t the kind of woman who let superficial things like looks get to her. She prided herself on digging deeper for such attributes as honor, integrity, honesty.
Of course, she couldn’t see those things at a glance, while she could see curly black hair and lively blue eyes, long, denim-clad legs and broad shoulders beneath a red plaid shirt. She could also see the spark of interest that leaped into those incredible eyes, quickly muted when he turned to the receptionist.
“I’m Cody James,” he said with a good old Texas drawl, giving the receptionist a sparkling smile. He turned a white cowboy hat between big, competent hands. “I have an eleven o’clock appointment with Wanda Roland but I’m a few minutes early. I’ll just take a seat and wait until—”
“Oh, no, Mr. James!” The receptionist appeared to be as impressed with his good looks as Emily was trying not to be. “Wanda’s expecting you. Please go right on in.” She pointed toward a door.
“Thank you, ma’am.” Nodding respectfully, he ambled to the door, knocked lightly and entered.
For a few seconds, both the receptionist and Emily held their collective breaths.
The receptionist, a pretty middle-aged woman whose desk plaque said simply Teresa, fanned herself. “Oh, dear,” she said. “I could go for that myself.”
Emily laughed politely. “Are all the Yellow Rose clients that good-looking?” She tried to keep the critical note in her voice under control. In her experience, men who were that good-looking were not to be trusted. They were almost as untrustworthy as the rich ones—and rich and handsome was the most dangerous combination in the world. Poor but honest, attractive but not drop-dead gorgeous: those were the only men she was ever going to trust again.
Not that it mattered in this particular instance. She hadn’t come to Yellow Rose Matchmakers to find true love but rather to ferret out information for her cousin Terry’s magazine article. Research, he’d called it, simple research.
In her more honest moments, she called it spying.
She’d already done similar “research” for him in Dallas before she’d been temporarily transferred to San Antonio by her employer, A&B Construction Company, to help open a new office. The Dallas caper had involved nothing more than filling out a form, making an excruciatingly embarrassing videotape and being matched with a computer geek for a single date. Then she’d written a “dating diary” for Terry and considered the matter closed.
Funny how that first experience had turned out, though. She’d answered every question with total honesty, to no avail—not that she’d actually been looking for a man, she reminded herself. She was simply paying back an old debt of honor to her cousin, nothing more. She certainly wasn’t looking for any kind of relationship, permanent or otherwise. At twenty-five, she wasn’t sure she’d ever want to get married after seeing all that her parents had put each other through. Being dumped practically at the altar herself hadn’t exactly raised men in her esteem, either.
Teresa tapped her pencil on the desktop, her smile friendly and welcoming. “And how may I help you, Ms....?”
“Emily Kirkwood,” she responded, belatedly realizing that there must be some kind of mistake. “I also had an eleven o’clock appointment with Ms. Roland. I don’t mind coming back at another time, though.” Actually, she’d be delighted. She edged toward the door. Terry couldn’t blame her for this mix-up... could he?
Teresa frowned. “Oh, dear. Has Wanda done it again?” She raised a hand obviously meant to arrest Emily’s flight, lifted the telephone receiver with the other and punched in three numbers. “Please wait while I—Wanda? I’m afraid there’s been another mix-up. Emily Kirkwood is here and says she has an—But Mr. James just went in, so I naturally assumed —Oh, all right. Of course.” Teresa hung up the phone. “She’ll be right out.”
Emily, feeling reprieve slipping from her grasp, stared longingly at the front door. “Really, I don’t mind coming back. This isn’t actually a very good day for me anyway. Maybe...”
The door through which the handsome cowboy had vanished moments earlier opened and a woman bustled through. Emily stopped trying to escape and stared.
Wanda Roland looked like the fairy godmother in a Walt Disney movie. Her snowy white hair might indicate advanced years, but her cheerful, unlined face made her look much younger.
Her smile made her look beautiful. She came forward with hands outstretched. “My dear, I’m so very sorry about the confusion.”
“That’s quite all right. As I was telling Teresa—”
“And she passed on your concerns, please be assured. We’re very much on the ball here at the Yellow Rose.” Eyes a paler blue than the handsome cowboy’s twinkled beneath snowy brows. “Please, won’t you come into my office?”
Emily resisted the tug on her hands. “But there’s already someone in there,” she demurred. “I don’t really think it would be a good idea—”
Wanda laughed, a silvery, tinkling sound. “All my ideas are good ones, dear. You’ll see. It’s quite a large office with plenty of room for two clients at the same time. Besides, all you’ll be doing is filling out forms.” She made a face as if she found that activity particularly distasteful.
“No, really—”
Wanda slipped an arm like a band of steel around Emily’s waist. “She’s shy,” she informed Teresa. “Come along, dear. I know what’s best.”
Emily had little choice but to “come along”, guided by the little woman’s surprisingly strong grip. Well, why not? she consoled herself. The sooner she got this over with, the sooner she could get on with her life. She certainly wouldn’t be sorry to get out from under this sense of obligation to her cousin.
They entered the office and the handsome cowboy looked up, holding a single long-stemmed yellow rose loosely in his hands. When he saw them, he replaced the posy in the bud vase next to his hat, resting brim up on the desktop. Dark brows rose in question but he said nothing.
Wanda didn’t seem to be one to let any silence remain unfilled. “Mr. James—may we call you Cody?—this is Miss Emily Kirkwood. May we call you Emily?”
“Of course,” they said in unison.
Wanda led Emily to a chair only a couple of feet from Cody’s, deposited her there and bustled over to her desk. She had to roll her chair to one side in order to see around the enormous computer that covered the entire right-hand side of the desk’s surface. “Now that we’re all here,” she said with satisfaction, “we can get to know each other a little better. Don’t y’all think that would be nice?”
“Uhh...” Cody James cast an oblique glance at the woman sitting to his left. “Is this how you handle all your new...uh, clients?”
Wanda’s frown would have looked like a smile on any other face. “Well, no, not actually. The two of you are a special case, I guess you could say.”
Emily leaned forward. “I feel very uncomfortable about this.” She turned so she could see the cowboy, who also looked ill at ease. “I don’t want to take up Mr. James’s time with my—”
“Cody,” he said quickly. “I don’t mind, Ms. Kirkwood. I’m just confused.”
She nodded. “All right, Cody. I’m Emily, and I’m at least as confused as you are.”
“See how well we’re getting on!” Wanda interjected.
Emily persevered. “Yes, but I still feel like an intruder. Why don’t I come back another day?”
Cody’s long-lashed blue eyes flew wide. “I’d hate to see you go to that trouble. Look, we had the same appointment, so why don’t I reschedule? You’ve got as much right to be here as I do.”
“Exactly,” Wanda put in quickly. “There’s no need for anyone to be inconvenienced.”
“But—” they began, in unison again.
“Tut-tut,” she said, waving aside their apprehensions. “Look at it this way—you’ll be doing me a favor. I’ll only have to go through the Yellow Rose spiel—pardon me, the orientation—once instead of twice.” She gave a delicate little cough, covered by one soft hand.
Emily looked at Cody, who looked back at her. She saw the smile start around his lips and move to those remarkable eyes, then found herself smiling in return. It was a kind of silent communication that agreed they’d both stay and see what Wanda Roland was up to.
Satisfied, Wanda nodded briskly. “All right, kid-dies, I want you to rest assured that all of us here at Yellow Rose Matchmakers have nothing but your best interests at heart. If we had our way, everyone in Texas would be happily married and sending us birth announcements.”
Emily made an exclamation of astonishment before she could stop herself. When the other two looked at her with unveiled curiosity, she rushed to explain herself. “I’m not actually looking for marriage,” she said. “I’m new in town and thought it would be nice just to meet a few people.”
“That’s how it always begins,” Wanda said cheerily. “You can’t marry ‘em until you meet ’em, right, Cody?”
Cody grinned. “Right, Wanda. I, on the other hand, won’t settle for anything less than marriage. I’m not getting any younger and I want a houseful of kids while I can still enjoy ’em.”
Emily could hardly believe her ears. A man who looked as good as this one certainly didn’t need a matchmaker to find women willing to marry him. Something strange was going on here...
Wanda nodded emphatically. “That’s the spirit, Cody. I’m sure I can find just the right girl for you. In the meantime, there are a few things my boss insists I tell you.”
Now we’re getting to the good part, Emily thought. Pay attention! You’ll have to pass all this on to Terry.
“Yellow Rose Matchmakers is the oldest personal introduction agency in the city of San Antonio—maybe all of Texas.” Wanda’s previously warm and friendly tone took on a singsong quality, and she spoke about three times as fast as she had before. Obviously, this was not the favorite part of her job. “We have a phenomenal success rate because we use the newest computers and special software developed just for us.” She reached out to give her computer a swift pat, as awkwardly as if she never touched the thing unless required to do so. “This is George,” she said. “You can trust him.”
George? She’d named her computer George? Emily was stunned.
Cody slumped back in his chair, long legs extended until his boots disappeared beneath the edge of the desk. “That’s one of the reasons I picked this agency,” he said. “I’m a big believer in computers. We use ‘em all the time at the ranch. Although...” He frowned thoughtfully. “I don’t believe we’ve named any of ’em.”
Wanda nodded approvingly before turning to Emily. “And you, dear—why did you choose the Yellow Rose?”
Because my cousin twisted my arm, she thought. Instead, she said, “I like the name. I love roses and yellow ones are my favorite.”
Wanda’s smile returned. “What a charming answer.” She squared her shoulders. “But to proceed—the Yellow Rose has been uniquely successful in matching couples because we are completely computerized. We assess each personality, profile each client and...” She seemed to be running out of steam. “Uhh...we videotape...I mean, if you like that kind of thing....”
Cody frowned. “I’m not sure I do, if you mean that deal where you sit and talk about yourself to a camera. Too much like an auction, if you ask me. Run tapes, say no to this one, maybe to that one. We’re not talking cows here.”
“Exactly!” Wanda sparkled like a Christmas tree. “It’s the human touch that makes all the difference.”
Cody nodded. “Once the information has been analyzed by the computer, I’d agree.”
“But—” Emily looked from one to the other, puzzled “—in this day and age, I thought everything about the process was automated and computerized and completely impersonal and scientific.”
Wanda gasped. “My word, would you like to live in a world where machines tell you whom to love?”
“Well, no, but—”
Cody cut in. He looked as incensed as Wanda did. “And in a world where people are trotted in and out of the video arena like cows in a sale ring?”
“Well, no, but—” Emily cut herself off this time. If Terry was looking for a real up-to-date piece on computer dating, the Yellow Rose apparently wasn’t going to be it. On the other hand, his research had already supported Wanda’s claim that the Rose had the best success rate of any agency in Texas: That’s why he’d been so delighted Emily had been temporarily transferred here. “I stand corrected,” she said. “I was just surprised, that’s all.”
“Well, I guess.” Wanda looked mollified. “Now that we understand each other, folks, I think it’s time for y’all to fill out our scientific in-depth questionnaire ” She rummaged in the top left drawer of the desk as she spoke, then the drawer on the right. “The information you give will be held in the strictest confidence, to be shared only when the match is made. We’re just trying to establish compatibility characteristics between you and your perfect match. That’s what we’re after—perfection. If not the next best thing... Ah, here it is.”
She pulled a handful of papers from the drawer and spread them on the desk in an untidy pile, then began pulling out a sheet here, two sheets there, rejecting some, accepting others, putting them together in various stacks.
Emily glanced at Cody and caught him glancing at her. They both looked away quickly. Again, she asked herself why a man who looked like this one had to go to a dating agency to find a woman. All he had to do was walk down the street and they’d follow him home in droves.
“Here we go.” Wanda offered one pile of papers to each of them, followed by two yellow ballpoint pens bearing a line drawing of a rose. “Now, the two of you can make yourselves comfortable at the conference table.” She indicated the table set before three tall windows in the converted Victorian. Glass panes swathed in lace turned muted light and shadow into romantic patterns.
Emily’s discomfort returned in a rush. Did she really want to sit across from this man and tell lies, even if only on paper? But Cody was rising obediently while Wanda beamed approval. Emily didn’t feel she had any choice but to follow him across the room and sink down in the chair he held for her.
And try to conceal her pleasure that some men still followed the old amenities with such perfect assurance.
Cody stared down at the form on the table before him, trying to concentrate. The first part, at least, was easy: Cody James, 30, male, cowboy. Well, he was a cowboy, he thought, easing his conscience. Income. He was ready for this one. No way would he tell the truth. Carefully, he wrote, “Enough to get by on with enough left over for a wife and kids, if they’re not too extravagant.”
That worked.
He read the next inquiry. Build. He stifled a smile. Yeah, he built—he’d helped build the hay shed on the Flying J a couple of months ago but he didn’t figure that’s what they wanted to know.
Dumb question. He’d skip it.
His impatient glance shifted just a tad too much and he found himself looking across the table at Emily Kirkwood. She was bent over the forms with total concentration, and he saw her straight white teeth tugging at that full lower lip. Made his mouth water, just watching.
Too bad about her. He’d liked her right away but he would never get involved with another drop-dead beautiful woman as long as he lived. Unfortunately, Emily was beautiful. Gritting his teeth, he went back to the form. Marital Status: divorced. Children: “No, but I sure want some,” he wrote.
Then he came to Type of Residence and stopped again. In actual fact, he lived in the big main ranch house at the Flying J with a whole passel of other Jameses but he sure didn’t want that known at this early stage of the game. If he was going to find a woman more interested in him than how many cows and buffalo and acres his family owned, some things were better left unsaid. He wrote, “House,” and let it go at that.
Pets. That was easy enough. Dogs, a buffalo. Under Favorite Animals, though, he chose horses; Least Favorite, cats. Favorite Sport was rodeo; Favorite Nonsporting Activity was watching rodeo and Favorite Food was Tex-Mex.
He heaved a sigh of relief; so far so good. He glanced up again, well pleased with himself. His gaze locked with that of the beautiful brown-eyed blonde sitting across from him. For a moment, he forgot all about the vow made on the heels of his divorce.
No more beautiful women. You just couldn’t trust ’em.
With her gaze locked with Cody’s, Emily forgot to breathe. Surely it wasn’t just his good looks, she thought, a little panicky at the way he made her feel. He’d seemed like a very nice man while the three of them were getting acquainted a few minutes earlier.
She gave him a quick, tentative smile and looked back down at her questionnaire. In Dallas she’d filled out the personal information form with unerring accuracy and gotten a lemon. This time she saw no reason to bare her soul.
Next item, Children. She wrote, “Goodness, no!” Actually, she liked children, and if she ever married, she’d certainly want them, but that was years and years in the future. No need to go into any of that. Pets. Cats, of course; she had two back in the apartment she shared with her old friend, Laurie Billingsley. Least Favorite Animal gave her pause for thought since she really liked most animals. Finally, she wrote, “Anything big.”
Favorite Nonsporting Activity. If she was being honest, the answer to that would be reading. But who would be interested in a woman who’d give that kind of response? She wrote, “Partying,” even though it was a barefaced lie. The answer to General Interests/ Hobbies would, in actual fact, be volunteer work. She’d taught children to read back in Dallas and would do so again when she returned. But since truth was not required, she wrote, “Shopping!!” with two exclamation points and an S with curlicues.
Her Favorite Food was macaroni and cheese, but she wrote, “Vegetarian,” because it seemed more sophisticated. Under A Perfect Date Would Be, she wrote, “Dinner in a four-star restaurant and dancing,” when the truth was closer to “A romantic movie at home before a roaring fire and with a bottle of wine.”
Ideal Vacation? “A Caribbean cruise,” she wrote extravagantly, even knowing she’d be happier in a cabin in the mountains. Ideal Partner Would Be...?
This stopped her cold. She couldn’t write, “Poor but honest and loving,” which was the truth although she didn’t suppose anyone would believe it. So she wrote, “Sophisticated, wealthy, handsome man-about-town.” And tried not to lift her gaze to the man seated across from her, a man who certainly appeared to be “poor but honest and loving”—and so handsome that her pulse quickened just looking at him.
She was not here to find a husband, or even a serious relationship! She was here to pay a debt of honor. She lowered her head and forced herself to stare at the next question. What I’m seeking in a relationship.
Nothing. She wasn’t seeking a darn thing. And once she finished this questionnaire and got away from the appealing Cody James, it wouldn’t be so hard to remember that. But since she had to write something, she wrote, “Fun and games!” in great big letters.
No more computer geeks for her!
Ideal Partner Would Be...?
Cody frowned at his questionnaire, wishing he could come up with an easy answer. He wasn’t sure what his ideal partner would be but he sure knew what she wouldn’t be.
She wouldn’t be like Jessica.
The thought of his ex-wife sent a familiar shaft of irritation through him. She’d said all the right things—until she had him roped and tied. Then all of a sudden, she didn’t want children, she didn’t want a boring life on a ranch and, eventually, she didn’t want him.
She did want his money and she’d made off with a hefty chunk of it. By then, it had been worth it to Cody to be shed of her. But sometimes he still remembered the things about her that he’d loved, things like a quick laugh, a ready humor, a passionate nature...
And she sure was easy on the eyes....
Blond, brown-eyed, peaches-and-cream skin, a figure that made men drool—actually, Jessica looked a lot like Emily Kirkwood. Jessica knew her power, too, although it took him a little while to realize it Now, two years after the divorce, he realized that he’d based all his hopes and dreams on what she’d said, not on what she’d done. He’d been wearing blinders, he realized in retrospect. He’d seen her with children and she was completely disinterested; he’d seen her with his family on the Flying J and she’d been standoffish and reluctant to join in.
But all the time she’d been insisting that she loved kids and she loved ranch life and she loved big families and—the biggest lie of all—she loved him. He figured if he’d watched what she did instead of what she’d said, he’d have been spared a lot of heartache.
The opening of the door broke into his reverie. Wanda stood there smiling. “Almost finished?” she asked cheerfully.
Emily said, “Almost. May we have a few more minutes?”