Pamela Ingrahm - Wedding Planner Tames Rancher!

With a frustrated sigh, she repacked her briefcase and headed home.

It wasn’t until she was sitting on her bed some hours later, gathering one leg of her panty hose in her fingers and mourning the loss of her lazy evening of air-popped popcorn and channel surfing, that Leah realized how tense she was.

Bra, hose, slip, low-heeled pumps, jewelry—the works—when she could be in old sweats and her favorite holey red socks. She tugged on a rayon coatdress and artfully tucked a silk scarf into the deep neckline. She had no idea what Mr. Mackey had in mind, but this was a dinner meeting, not a dinner date.

She had just clasped her watch around her wrist when the doorbell rang. She checked her appearance in the mirror and smiled wryly at her reflection. He was punctual, she could say that for him.

She opened the door to find her breath taken away once again. Half-naked, he had been nearly indescribable. In creased black jeans, a white dress shirt open at the neck, a sports jacket and boots, Wade was nothing short of yummy. The black Stetson he reached up to remove from his head made him the quintessential cowboy.

And she’d purged cowboys from her fantasy list a long time ago, she reminded herself. She wanted a nineties man, an urbane one, one who treated her as an equal, a partner. Cowboys weren’t known for their modern mind-sets.

It took a stern mental rap to get her hand off the knob and welcome him inside. Her fortitude returned when his gaze raked over her dress and she had the distinct impression she’d lost marks on his tally stick.

“Can I get you something to drink?”

“No, thanks. Nice place.”

“But not your style,” she offered helpfully.

“No, I reckon not.”

“Let me grab my purse, then, and we’ll get going.”

Once outside, she was ready to find a pickup truck waiting. What she hadn’t expected was a bright yellow Mustang. She hadn’t taken Wade for the sports car type, but maybe she’d misjudged him. Could her perceptions be that far off?

He laughed when he saw her expression. “Not exactly a limousine, I admit. I had to bring my truck into town for some work so I borrowed a friend’s car. Or rather, I ended up with my friend’s son’s car.”

Leah blushed. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be rude. I was just caught off guard.”

His manners were flawless as he helped her into the car, but that was no surprise. Country boy or not, he was a gentleman. And she wasn’t surprised when he pulled into the crowded parking lot at the Broken Spoke. She’d hardly expected him to take her to the country club, considering the man she was coming to know, and she had no doubt she was being tested again. Well, she’d eaten her share of chicken-fried steak, and she could probably remember how to dance the schottische in a pinch.

As soon as the waitress had taken their orders, Leah got down to business. “What would you like to talk about first?”

Wade folded his hands on the table in front of him. “I don’t like Pennington Bradford, and I don’t like his daddy even more. But I do love my daughter, and I want her to be happy.”

He paused. Leah waited.

“Myra Jo doesn’t think so, but I was young once, and I remember what it was like to be impulsive, to believe love was enough to solve any problem. I don’t think she has a clue what she’s facing if she goes through with this marriage, and I’d do anything to keep her from getting hurt.”

Warning bells went off in Leah’s head. “I think most fathers feel as you do,” she said, treading softly.

He raised one eyebrow. “Even in this day and age, I don’t think most fathers raise their daughters by themselves.”

Despite her earlier vow to be cautious, Leah decided to go ahead and say what was on her mind. If Wade was as up-front as he claimed, he’d respect her. If he wasn’t, it would be better to lose the contract now instead of risking a second disaster.

“Wade, I’ve been doing this for a long time, and one thing I’m sure of is that it’s a mistake to play God. I’ve seen couples I was certain were doomed become inseparable, and vice versa. So if you’re asking me to help you to keep Myra Jo from marrying Pennington, I’m afraid I can’t oblige you.”

Wade cast her an amused glance. “I’m not asking you to. I know the quickest way to get a child to do something is to forbid it, so my goal hasn’t been to stop her. I’ve dragged things out as long as I could to see if she’d open her eyes.”

“Start seeing things your way, you mean,” she said, unable to stop herself.

His look turned mocking. “No, I meant it the way I said it. If I thought she had any inkling of what marrying Pennington really means, I’d feel more at ease. The way it stands, I’m not convinced. The long and short of it is, I’m going to give Myra Jo the biggest wedding money can buy. And I’m also going to do my best to ensure her a chance at a happy future.”

“And if things don’t work out that way?” Leah asked quietly.

“Then my little girl can come home, and her daddy’ll do his damnedest to heal her broken heart.”

Hot tears sprang into Leah’s eyes despite her most valiant effort to contain them. It was clear that Wade would gladly play the bad guy, even risk his daughter’s rejection, to assure her happiness. Considering her “I’ll do it on my own” philosophy, Leah should have been scornful, convinced Myra Jo would never stand on her own two feet as long as she knew she had her daddy to fall back on. Instead, all she felt was a pang of envy.

“Maybe someday Myra Jo will know how lucky she is to have you for a father,” she finally managed to say.

“Maybe,” Wade echoed in a lighter tone, “but I’m still not wearing a tuxedo.”

Leah had to roll her eyes, but was grateful that Wade had lightened the mood.

“Come on, Wade. Surely that’s just another delaying tactic?”

“Maybe.”

Hope quickened in her breast only to fade as she realized he was serious about not wearing a tuxedo. The wedding was only a month away; now was not the time for him to be unreasonable.

“I’m no weekend cowboy, Leah, living in Westlake and thinking I’m a rancher because I own a few acres and run a few head. I work my land and my herds. My hands get dirty and my boots aren’t for show.”

He took a breath and continued. “I can still remember the year we got indoor plumbing. I remember the year we didn’t eat meat until fall and we butchered a hog. I remember skipping school because I had to help my dad. Those things mold a man.”

He studied his clean, square nails.

“My Daddy’s word has always been worth more than gold, so if my family wasn’t good enough for people like the Bradfords then, we’re sure the hell not good enough now.”

“I can understand how you feel, but in the end this is your only child’s wedding.”

“I’ve told you that I’ll give Myra Jo the full three-ring circus, but I won’t play the trained bear for anybody.”

Wade suddenly looked weary, and Leah felt her heart pull. She had to believe growing up poor was not the only reason Wade was so firmly set in his ways. She wondered if Myra Jo’s mother was to blame for him putting up such high walls, or if some other woman had turned him so self-contained.

Whatever the reason—sheer cussedness or deep conviction—it was clear a battle would wage to put some shine on a man who wore his humble beginnings like a badge of honor.

“So,” he said, drawing her attention again, “have I scared you off?”

Leah loved a challenge, but she doubted Wade knew how reasonable it was for her to be afraid. Her reputation was at stake. Wade might not think she understood pride, but she did. Just like him, she knew the desire to be judged for who she was, not what she could do or how much money she made. Oh, how she knew the desire for people to see past the trappings and accept her for the woman she was on the inside.

She gave her head a little shake to stop her wandering thoughts. She could take comfort in the fact that Wade would play fair. Tough, but fair. That she could handle.

“Nope,” she finally said, holding out her hand. “You may have met your match, Wade Mackey.”

He paused a long moment before a smile slowly grew and he took her offered palm. “That would be a rare treat, Leah Houston.”

They sat back and let the waitress serve their dinners, and Leah discovered her appetite had returned.

“So what’s the next shindig on the list?” Wade asked between bites of steak.

“Myra Jo wants a barbecue as a combination graduation party and official announcement.”

“That’s right, I’d forgotten. I still think it’s pretty silly to ‘announce’ a year-old engagement.”

“I’ve seen the guest list,” Leah said carefully. “It’s going to be quite an affair.”

His lips tightened. “Bradford’s up for reelection and I guess he saw an opportunity to slap backs at my expense. But hell, I don’t care.”

Leah wasn’t sure that was entirely true, but she was sure this wasn’t a financial issue. She’d already been given the okay to hire the best caterers in Texas and one of the hottest up-and-coming bands. The decorations alone were no small cost, but the agreement she’d sent him had come back to her desk without a mark on it except his bold signature on the approval line.

“At least attire won’t be a fight,” she said, trying for some levity. “Denim will be de rigueur.”

“You think so?” he said, lifting an eyebrow. “We’ve already had three fights that my brand of denim isn’t good enough. Myra Jo wants to buy me some highfalutin designer jeans and have boots custom-made for the occasion. My Tony Lama’s will be just fine with a little spit and polish.”

Since they were back to square one, Leah decided to let things go for now. She only had a week until the barbecue, but then she would have another two until the rehearsal. Surely she could find a way to make him change his mind in three weeks. After all, she’d gotten the governor to dress up as The Beast so his daughter could be Belle at a costume party, hadn’t she?

The conversation drifted into the mundane for the rest of the meal, and the evening took on a delightful air. It wasn’t until the check arrived that they once again squared off.

Wade reached for it at the same time she did. His face took on that stubborn expression Leah decided she’d better get used to, so she finally let go. The test of wills had only taken a matter of seconds, but the battle had been real.

How foolish of her even to think of picking up the tab, even though the meal was a business deduction for her. He might only be seven years her senior, but feminism seemed to have passed this cowboy by without even ruffling his hair.

Leah noted Wade’s generous tip with absurd pleasure. She might have scratched cowboys off her fantasy list, but selfish men had never even been a consideration.

“Look, Leah, I’ve had about all the arguing I can stand. I clean up real good, so I can promise you I won’t show up at the barbecue, or even the wedding, in overalls. You just take care of Myra Jo and don’t worry about me.”

Oh, sure. That should be a breeze. Just as it had been a breeze to reserve the country club for the reception on such short notice, and book the caterer who was usually scheduled a year in advance, and cajole the baker into guaranteeing a five-tiered bride’s cake, a groom’s cake and the numerous extras required for an affair this size. What had Myra Jo been thinking to send out her invitations without these details planned? Now she could add getting the world’s most stubborn cowboy into a cutaway.