Last Chance Beauty Queen (Last Chance #3)(18)
Author: Hope Ramsay

He forced a smile to his face as he sat down in the hard folding chair. The heiress to the Warren Fabrics fortune studied him with a pair of Alice blue eyes. Her ash blond hair fell straight to just above her jawline, the bangs drooping down to partially obscure one eye. A narrow nose, sharp cheekbones, and a pointed chin gave her a thin, predatory look. She reeked posh. She was precisely the sort of woman his grandfather had married—on several occasions.

“Caroline can rescue herself if she needs to. Honestly, if I were her, I’d relax and enjoy the ride.” Cissy leaned in and draped herself over Hugh’s arm, where she remained for the rest of the parade.

When the festivities concluded, Cissy led Hugh through the crowd toward her father, Senator Rupert Warren, who was standing with a very large man wearing a tan suit and a pink and green bow tie. Warren turned as they approached, his face lighting up when he spied his daughter. He gestured toward Cissy and Hugh, then said, “Big Bob, let me introduce you to Hugh deBracy, Baron Woolham. Hugh, this here is Big Bob Thomas, mayor of Last Chance.”

Big Bob, who had to weigh more than twenty stone, gave Hugh a ham-handed shake. His big easy smile conveyed the feeling that he was a regular sort of bloke that got things done by being practical and honest.

“Well,” Big Bob said, “I reckon I’m the mayor until November. I’m going fishing after that.” Bob loosened his watermelon-themed tie.

“I do hope I can get my problem sorted before November. I’d love to drop by sometime and talk to you about the factory,” Hugh said.

Big Bob nodded but he didn’t look terribly enthusiastic. “That would be fine. After the festival.”

Before Hugh could press the mayor for an earlier appointment, a high-pitched voice sounded through the reviewing stand like a herald with a slightly off-key trumpet.

“Lord Woolham, oh, Lord Woolham.”

A moment later, a zaftig woman with a helmet of gray hair came toward Hugh like the Titanic advancing on the iceberg.

“Ah, Lillian, there you are,” Big Bob said as he shifted his bulk aside to make room. “Lord Woolham, may I introduce Lillian Bray, the secretary of the Last Chance Town Council. Lillian, meet Lord Woolham.”

“Oh, your grace, I’m just so honored to meet you.” The woman took Hugh’s hand and pumped it as if she were trying to bring forth water from a well.

Hugh clamped down on his tongue and refrained from pointing out that he was not of a high-enough rank to be called “your grace.”

“Well,” huffed Lillian as she turned toward Big Bob. “I think we need to tackle the Bert Rhodes problem as quickly as possible. We should schedule an emergency meeting of the town council this week to discuss what we can do to help his grace.”

“Well now, Lillian, I don’t—” Bob began.

“That might not be a bad idea,” Cissy said. “Couldn’t the town council condemn that old golf course, or something?”

Big Bob scowled. “Now, Miz Warren, we don’t exactly have the money to—”

“Well, that’s an idea,” Lillian said.

Bob took out a handkerchief and mopped his brow. “Lillian, I think we should wait and think on this a little bit. I don’t want to go up against a bunch of church ladies.”

“Piffle,” Lillian said, “I already talked to Jimmy Marshall. He thinks an emergency meeting of the council is a good idea. I’m sure he can control his wife.”

“I wouldn’t count on it,” Bob said, tucking his handkerchief into his pocket.

“Well, Kamaria isn’t opposed to an emergency meeting. I talked with her last night about it. And we all know she’s going to win next November’s mayoral election.” Lillian turned and waved at an African-American woman who stood at the other end of the reviewing stand having a conversation with a group of women of various sizes, ages, and ethnic backgrounds. Despite their differences, all of those ladies looked like churchwomen.

Hugh suddenly wished that Caroline were beside him whispering in his ear about all these tangled relationships. Caroline had tried to brief him about all this, but he wasn’t very good at names and faces and politicking.

“What’s this about church ladies?” Senator Warren asked.

Big Bob hitched up his trousers so that his belt buckle rested above his paunch. “Rupert, we got us a group of crusading women, led by the wife of our leading citizen. They want to protect that miniature golf course on the land Baron Woolham needs for his factory. They say Golfing for God is a wonderful family place that can teach kids their Bible stories.”

“Oh, that’s not good,” the senator said.

Bob nodded and turned toward Lillian. “Lillian, you’re in the minority of church women in this county. Hettie’s done a remarkable job of organizing the Committee to Resurrect Golfing for God. And I don’t want to go up against Hettie Marshall and her current cause.”

“Hettie Marshall? Really?” Cissy said in a surprisingly chipper tone. “Would that be the daughter of Judge Gregory Johnson who married Lee Marshall’s boy?”

“It is, ma’am,” Bob said.

Cissy turned toward her father. “Daddy, you know her. Remember? Greg and Roberta’s daughter? I went to summer camp with her. And we were sorority sisters at Clemson. Maybe I can help.” Cissy turned and gave Hugh a big, brassy smile full of beautifully straight white teeth.

“Hmmm,” Senator Warren said. “I didn’t know anything about this committee of churchwomen. Hugh, in this state it’s real bad politics to get crosswise with any churchwomen.”

“I am aware of that, sir. We have churchwomen in Woolham.”

“Really, Daddy, this situation has disaster written all over it,” Cissy said. “I don’t think you should entrust it to Caroline. I’m surprised you even asked her to help, given her obvious conflict of interest.”

“I sure do wish ya’ll would quit calling her Caroline. Her name’s Rocky. Rocky Rhodes,” Lillian said.

“I believe she legally changed her name,” Hugh said.

“Well, thank God for that. Can you imagine going through life with a name like Rocky Rhodes?” Cissy’s laugh sounded like a braying jackass, with an unmistakable note of cruelty in it.

“No, I can’t,” the senator said, “but I don’t think less of Caroline because her parents gave her an unfortunate name, or that man lassoed her. The fact is, Lord Woolham, I asked Caroline to help because she has a knack for untangling difficult situations. Especially those that require a certain amount of political delicacy, if you catch my drift. I knew her father owned the land, so I figured she’d be even more motivated to find a unique solution to your problems. If you trust Caroline, she’ll find a solution for you. She hasn’t failed me yet.”

“Daddy,” Cissy said, her voice sounding brittle. “I know Hettie. I mean we’re on the same social standing. I’m sure I can help.” Cissy’s arm tightened again, and Hugh got the feeling he was in the embrace of a very large and deadly boa constrictor.

“Sweetie, Caroline has a real knack for untangling things.”

Cissy’s grasp spasmed on Hugh’s arm. She was furious with her father, but managed to keep a lid on it. Instead she gave the senator a phony smile and then looked up at Hugh. “I can get you that land. You trust me, and everything will work out fine.”

Hugh didn’t trust Cissy very far. He was learning not to trust anyone. Besides, he halfway understood Cissy—she was brassy and hard and a lot like Granddad. She saw what she wanted, and she went after it.

Granddad would have approved of her. Not just her approach to life, but the fact that she fit all the requirements of a deBracy bride—she had both a pedigree and a fortune.

Dash let the horse walk its way down an unpaved road, heading toward the Painted Corners Stable. Caroline clutched the saddle pommel and tried to get her heartbeat under control. She didn’t know where the fear ended and the anger started. “This is exactly like that time you blew up my Barbie dolls.”

“No, it’s not,” Dash said from his place behind her. “That was all about my getting back at your little friend, Savannah, and the mean things she said about my daddy. You and the Barbies were collateral damage. I’ve been meaning to apologize to you for that.”

“Well, this is a weird way of apologizing. Honestly, this is the worst idea you’ve ever had.”

“You asked me for something big and outrageous. This is what came to mind.”

She gave him an elbow to the ribs. “You’re incorrigible. Couldn’t you have told me about this? We could have discussed it. My boss was on that reviewing stand, Dash. Did you give one moment’s thought to how this might affect my career?”

“Well, no, to tell you the truth. But the fact is, you were busy getting drunk and dancing with that Brit, which probably wasn’t such a smart career move either. And besides, I reckoned that it would be better and more believable if you didn’t know what I planned. That way it could look just like I was staking my claim on you.”

Dash guided the horse into the main corral. “You weren’t really staking your claim on me, were you?” Caroline asked.

He laughed. “No, ma’am, that’s for sure.”

He stood up in the stirrups and swung his leg over the saddle. When his foot hit the ground, he winced. “Damn, that knee ain’t never gonna be the same,” he muttered, bending down to rub it.

Caroline found herself sitting atop the horse all by her lonesome. “Get me down from here.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Dash called one of his stable hands over to help hold the horse’s reins. He untied the lasso around Caroline’s middle. Then, in a manly display of strength, he lifted her free of the saddle, turned, and set her on her feet.

Her stiletto heels immediately sank right into something soft.

“Uh, Dash, you didn’t just put me in horse poop, did you?” She lifted up her skirts.

“Uh-oh, did I? I’m sorry. We got a lot of that stuff around here, you know.”

“You did this on purpose.”

“I didn’t. But you know, this situation provides you with a real opportunity to trash that old dress. You let the skirt get soiled, you might have a good excuse for taking the dress off.” His crooked smile made an appearance. “That would make you feel better, wouldn’t it? You could dress in a shirt buttoned up to here.” He gestured to his neck.

“You’re obnoxious.”

“I know.”

“My shoes are ruined.”

“Aw, poor baby. And they were such sensible shoes, too.”

“Dash, you come right here and get me out of this pile of manure.”

Dash followed orders. He snatched her up so fast that her pumps were left behind, mired forever in the muck. He threw her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. Caroline got a head-jarring, upside-down view of the world as Dash strode across the corral and into the parking lot beside the stable. When they reached the blacktop, he stopped and returned her to her bare feet.