Gracie looked down at her dress and grinned. "It's not as bad as you think."
"That dress is every bit as bad as I think."
"No, it's not. I've got black exercise shorts on underneath, so I'm practically decent." At the look of disbelief on his face she laughed. "It's true, look." Lifting the bottom of her dress, she revealed a tight pair of black Lycra shorts that were a couple of inches shorter than her dress. "Happy now?"
Happy didn't go anywhere near to describing how he felt. It had been years since a woman had so innocently lifted her skirt for him. Lots of not so innocent thoughts raced through his brain as his eyes had an up close and personal encounter with her legs.
If he wanted to get out of this office in one piece he needed to ignore her skimpy outfit and find out what was on her mind. "Okay, Ms. Cowgirl. Would you mind telling me why you hauled me into the office when our guests have started arriving?"
"I wanted to make sure you've got the gist of what you're doing tonight. All of the ladies on your short-list are coming, so you've got no excuse not to get your options down to the top two. If you don't manage that you won't stand any chance of being married this side of Christmas."
"Did you bring a list of questions you want me to ask them?"
Gracie rolled her eyes. "Don't be tacky. But it wouldn't be a bad idea to try and remember to ask them similar questions. Then you can compare their answers against each other."
"Are there any other pearls of wisdom you want to share before I brave the lion's den and search out my first victim?"
A huff of air escaped her lips. "You can't call them victims, Trent. They're dates?well, sort of. I'm sure you can manage to get around all four women in one night."
She sat down on the chair opposite him and his mouth dropped open. Her skirt got a whole lot tighter and a whole lot shorter. She crossed her legs and he almost fell off his chair. "Umm, Gracie. I don't think it's a good idea to cross your legs like that. It might give someone the wrong impression." He could feel heat fanning through his body as she stared at him with a bewildered expression on her face.
Looking down at her legs, she blushed like a ripe beet. "Oh, for goodness' sake. It's just a little bit of leg. I'm perfectly respectable." She did however, uncross her legs and stand up, yanking the skirt of her dress down to cover her shorts. "Now that you've finished ogling my legs, can we get back to business? How do you feel?"
Good grief, what did the woman want? Blood? The only word that sprung to mind was horny. But if he said that, he'd end up on the receiving end of a slap on the face. "Stressed." That just about covered every last inch of him.
Gracie walked across the room. Hot darts of pleasure scorched his skin as her fingers rubbed his forearm, intending to soothe his worries away, but creating a whole lot more.
"Don't worry. If you feel overwhelmed, just say you need to go to the bathroom or something. That way you can disappear for a few minutes to get yourself back on track. You'll be fine. I've got complete confidence in you."
She gave his arm a final squeeze before turning toward the door. He needed that 'bathroom or something' stop now. Standing on shaky legs, he rearranged his trousers, trying to get more comfortable while her back was turned. "I feel sorry for any man unlucky enough to set your radar buzzing. He wouldn't stand a chance against you."
"It all comes down to careful planning and good execution." She poked her head out of the office door her skirt rode even higher. "The coast is clear. Let's go, hotshot. Your ladies are waiting."
***
Gracie stared at the twinkling fairy lights wrapped in tight loops around the rafters of the barn. She took another bite from her cob of fresh corn, blinking as a squirt of juice hit her in the eye. Her gaze swept the barn, watching everyone have a good time. It should have been easy to enjoy the dance, but she felt like the Christmas Grinch on a bad day. And it was all her fault.
She should have left Trent to sort out his own love life, but she couldn't leave him stranded in a sea of single females. So in blissful ignorance, she'd asked Karen to point out the women Trent had short-listed.
She'd already met Katie, but wrongly assumed her physical attributes were a genetic abnormality. After seeing the other three candidates, she knew she'd been wrong. So wrong that it would have been funny if it had been another man's list. The top qualifiers for a life of marital bliss with Trent McKenzie included legs that stretched as far as the moon and big boobs.
The cowboy in question was busy schmoozing lady number three. Even a snail would have noticed that they were enjoying each other's company. It looked like a mutual admiration society had formed in the middle of rural Montana.
Jo-Jo Allen turned out to be a brunette that more than met Trent's strict prerequisites. She also had a face Aphrodite would have been proud to call her own. Jo-Jo had chosen to wear a snug pair of jeans and a skimpy pink T-shirt that showed more than a few inches of toned midriff. She leaned into Trent when he spoke to her, and every now and again her hand brushed along his forearm.
Yuk. Gracie knew there had to be something wrong with Jo-Jo to look so good but still be single. Squinting into the distance, she thought she could see the tell-tale signs of a woman on the verge of forty. But that could have been the squirt of corn juice blurring her vision.
She probably had the intelligence of a horse. Maybe even a body odor problem that kept men at bay.
Jordan sat down beside her, a plate of food piled to the brim. "Cheer up. Trent knows how to handle Jo-Jo. She likes her men handsome and rich. Not necessarily single, if you get my meaning."
"Jordan McKenzie, it doesn't matter to me who Trent decides to spend his time with. That's the whole point of the dance. To mix and mingle."
"Sure, Gracie."
Her face sizzled as hot as the steak Jordan chomped into. It was time to distract him from this line of discussion otherwise she'd get herself into trouble. "Who's the blonde girl in the red dress I saw you dancing with a while ago?"
It was his turn to get a bit hot under the collar. A faint blush stained his cheeks as he looked out across the barn. "Tracey Wood. She lives in Billings."
Gracie peered into his face. "Have you known her long?"
"Since college."
Picking up another cob of corn, she kept munching. Her feet ached from all the dancing she'd been doing, so she wiggled her toes, trying to ease the tension in her feet. If she'd had half a brain, she would have kicked her boots off by now and danced in bare feet. But she wasn't giving up the extra inches they added to her height. Especially after seeing Trent shuffle-step his way across the dance floor with lady number two, the voluptuous Katie Jenkins.
As the music continued to rattle through the rafters, Jordan kept her amused with stories about high-school. He pointed out so many people that she lost track of all their names.
Karen sighed as she sat on the hay bale beside Gracie. "What a night. I don't think my legs have stopped dancing since I walked into the barn. How's everything going?"
Apart from figuring out that Trent had gotten further under her skin than she'd thought, Gracie felt just great. "Couldn't be better."
Karen shot her a suspicious look. "Have you seen much of Trent?"
Jordan laughed. "He's got a fan club circling him. Every time I see him he's got his arm locked around a new woman."
Gracie should have felt relieved. She didn't.
Word must have gotten out that Trent McKenzie was looking for a wife. As soon as he'd hit the dance floor he'd been swamped with women trying his boots out for size. Their flirty glances and not so subtle wiggles were enough to make Gracie want to stay single for the rest of her life.
She sat a little straighter, determined to ignore Trent's fan club. Watching Mr. Desperate juggle a dozen women wasn't the only reason she'd come to the dance. "Have you seen Kristina Green, Karen?"
"She couldn't make it. Her son's competing in a rodeo competition in Idaho. With Jim still away she decided to go and cheer Ale
x on."
Gracie sighed. Plan B had turned out to be a fizzer as well.
A tall man in his sixties walked toward them. He tipped the brim of his hat and smiled at Karen. "I thought I'd come and get you before you dance with someone else. Would you like some dessert?"
A soft blush skimmed Karen's cheeks. Gracie looked at Jordan. The twinkle in his eye told her that the man grinning at his mom wasn't a stranger.
"That would be lovely, Jeff." She stood up and brushed hay off the back of her skirt. She hooked her hand around his elbow and smiled into his weather-beaten face. "Lead the way my friend."
Gracie watched Karen and her dessert date circle the room. "Who's Jeff?"
"Jeff Lafferty. He owns a ranch about twenty miles from here. They've known each other for years." Jordan's gaze followed his mom. "He's a good man."
Tess sat down. "You both look far too glum for a barn dance." She handed Gracie a paper plate with a thick slice of cake perched on top. "I recommend the chocolate mud cake Doris made. It's incredible. Hi, Jordan."
Jordan smiled, and then looked at the plate in Gracie's hands. "Did you bring some for me?"
"Are you kidding?" Tess grinned at the disappointed look on Jordan's face. "I had to fight off half the people here to get this much. There's more on the dessert table, but I wouldn't wait too long. There are a lot of sweet-toothed people here tonight."
Jordan shot up from the hay bale. "Nice talking with you ladies, but I've got a hot date with dessert lined up. See you later."
Tess laughed as they watched Jordan's broad shoulders weave through the people on the dance floor. "That man lives for food. When he comes to town, he clears out my entire supply of muffins in one swoop."
"That's because you're a great cook and you love what you do." Gracie bit into the piece of cake in her hands. Gooey chocolate fudge melted in her mouth. "Delicious."
"I'm making mud cake next week in the caf?. Doris gave me her recipe. Who's Trent dancing with?"
Gracie scanned the dance-floor. Option one had her body squashed against Trent's chest, looking like a woman in lust. "Nicky Scotson."
"Gary and Maureen's daughter? I thought she'd left for some high-flying accounting job in Denver."
Gracie shrugged her shoulders. Denver sounded like a great career move. Especially when Nicky favored tight blue jeans and a white shirt that outlined a body that didn't belong on an accountant. Gracie had spent half the night trying to ignore the women curled around Trent's body. He'd barely made it out of one woman's arms before someone else claimed him for a dance. He had so many choices for the next Mrs. McKenzie it was a wonder his head didn't spin off his neck.
"Are you all right?" Tess's blue eyes were full of worry.
"I'm fine. Just a bit tired." And heartsore. Gracie took another bite of cake.
"I know just the thing to cure whatever's bugging you." Tess's smile was mischievous. "Grab that hat of yours because these two cowgirl imports are going to show the locals how a line dance should look."
Gracie looked in horror at the dance floor. The music had stopped, Trent had disappeared, and half the people around them were hustling into the middle of the barn. "You've got to be joking? I've never line danced in my life."
"Stick with me, we can't go wrong." Tess grabbed her arm and pulled her upright.
Before Gracie knew what was happening she'd been swallowed whole by the crowd, shuffle-stepping between denim-clad bodies moving in a wave across the barn. The only good thing about being directionally challenged was that she couldn't see what Trent was up to. And that suited her just fine.
***
Trent slipped out the side door of the barn. He'd disappeared before another woman decided to haul him onto the dance floor. Getting the four women on his list together at the same time had seemed like a great idea. But as soon as Jo-Jo Allen wrapped her manicured nails around his neck he knew he was in trouble. By the time Mary-Beth curled her body around his, he'd been ready to make a run for his life.
"Are you looking for fresh air or safety?"
Trent jumped. His gaze streaked to his right. "You nearly gave me a heart attack." His friend sat on an old wooden bench pushed against the wall of the barn. He'd stretched his long legs out in front of him, looking like a man who didn't give a damn about anything.
"It's about time someone shook you up. It looks as though you're recruiting a harem."
The scowl on Nathan's face almost matched the mood Trent was in. He stared at the glowing string of lanterns Jordan had hung on the barn wall. Moths threw themselves at the glass cubes, bewitched by the promise of bright light. All the poor suckers got for their effort was an early exit plan and singed wings. He knew how that felt.
Trent moved out of the doorway and sat beside Nathan. "I'm an idiot."
"I could have told you that years ago."
"I'm serious."
"When haven't you been?"
Trent let his gaze roam over the black night. Cozying up to four available females wasn't working. He didn't want any of them. Every time he looked up, Gracie was the first person he saw. And when he couldn't see her he made sure he found her. "Why aren't you inside?"
"Same reason as you, except I'm not being hunted by a pack of females."
Trent crossed his arms in front of his chest. "You noticed."
"Hard not to. What's going on?"
He scuffed the heel of his boot on the ground. "I want to get married and have children." There, he'd said it, blurted it out to someone who'd understand the pickle he'd gotten himself into.
Nathan didn't laugh. He didn't say anything. His gaze landed on Trent with something that looked dangerously close to pity lurking in his eyes. "Your mom's told half of Bozeman you're looking for a wife."
Trent hung his head. The damn craft group had struck again. Put a bunch of mothers together with too much time on their hands and you had instant disaster.
"Most men opt for one woman," Nathan said. "You've got five of them in there watching every move you make."
"Four."
"Nope. Last time I looked there were five. Jordan introduced me to a cute little redhead by the name of Gracie. You forgot to mention she's been living with you for the last couple of weeks. Sally thought she was your fianc?e. But after all that back scratching going on in the middle of the dance floor I'm not sure what's going on."
"Your sister heard wrong. If you'd come to the barbecue last week, you would have met her. Gracie came to Bozeman to teach at one of the schools. After that, she was supposed to stay on the ranch to learn about how we do things in Montana. She ended up on the ranch first." He cleared his throat, hoping the convoluted tale he'd just told made sense. "Mom organized it months ago." As if his mom added credibility to the sorriest state of affairs he'd ever been involved in. He should have listened to Gracie and married a heifer.
Nathan nodded. "Well, that makes your idiot tendencies about as clear as mud."
"Gracie's helping me find a wife."
"She must think we're all a bunch of losers if you need help finding a woman. Is it working?"
"I'm hiding out here with you. What do you think?"
Nathan snorted. "You don't want to know."
The side door banged open. Trent leaped to his feet. "God almighty, Jordan. I thought you were Jo-Jo."
"Relax. She got sick of waiting for you. Last I heard she disappeared with Stan Evans."
Trent sank back onto the bench. "Thank goodness for that."
"You'd better hold onto your thanks because I'm about to make your night even worse. Gracie's not looking too happy about something. Dave's in there trying to cheer her up."
Trent leaped to his feet. "What's he doing?"
"Nothing you haven't been doing all night."
"He'd better keep his hands to himself or he'll have me to answer to." Trent stalked back inside, scanning the dance floor for his neighbor and a pint-sized redhead. Even when he couldn't see what she was up to, she managed to tie him in kno
ts.
And he knew exactly what he was going to do about it.
***
Gracie took one last look around the barn. Jordan and Tracey were busy hopping and bopping to a rock n' roll song. Tess had her feet resting on a chair beside Kelly Harris, the owner of the craft store beside Tess's caf?.
After two-stepping around the barn with a man called Dave, Gracie was ready to call it a night. Karen had organized a team of helpers to clean the barn the next morning and she'd volunteered her services. At least that way she'd be free to disappear without feeling guilty about the mess she'd left behind. She made her way over to the barn doors, smiling and waving goodbye to the people she'd met.
"Where's Dave?" Trent moved in front of her, blocking her exit.
"I don't know." Gracie caught the scowl on his face and wondered why a man that had been surrounded by a dozen adoring females would look unhappy.
"Where are you going?"
"To bed. It's nearly eleven o'clock." Gracie dropped her eyes to the buttons of his shirt. She crossed her arms in front of her chest before remembering what that did to the length of her skirt. So she held onto the lasso on her waist instead. "I promised Karen I'd help clean the barn in the morning, so I figured now was as good a time as any to leave." Taking a step to her right, she tried to walk around him.
He took a step to his left, blocking her escape. "Did you manage to catch up with Kristina?"
"No. She couldn't make it." She tried making another move. He stepped closer.
"You haven't danced with me all night. How about one round on the dance floor before you call it quits?"
Clenching her fists into tight balls, Gracie glanced up into his handsome face. Lord help foolish women with reckless dreams. "I thought you'd be all danced out by now."
A shadow passed across his face. "A man could say the same about you. I don't think you missed a dance all night."
"Sure, Trent McKenzie. You really had time to keep track of me." She moved again.
He reached forward, holding onto her shoulders as she tried to spin away from him. "Just follow my lead and we'll do fine." His hands traveled down her shoulders, skimming her arms until they curled around her fingers.
"I don't think so," Gracie said. She struggled to come up with an excuse to get away from him, but she couldn't think straight with his fingers rubbing her hands. "My feet are sore."