“Well, I was pretty proud of my two cents, I don’t mind saying,” Dennis said. “And then Sam said that he didn’t think even he had the necessary talent to pull off the job.”

“What job?” Daisy asked, her heart beginning an emergency tattoo. It sounded as if all the important men in her life—notwithstanding Sam Barr, otherwise known as Handsome Sam, and understood by all to be a trickster and prankster beyond compare—had clubbed together and cast her to the wind. “Pardon me, but I’m having great trouble seeing my father and my...my—”

“Your what, dear?” Jane Chatham asked, her eyes twinkling with interest.

“My...good friend John,” Daisy said, covering herself. “I have trouble seeing the two of them agreeing on anything, but certainly my father wouldn’t spend any time discussing my love life with my—”

“With your good friend John,” Cosette said. “Yes, yes, yes, we heard all that.”

“And yet, it happened,” Sheriff Dennis said. “Now may I have that supper for which I sang like a many-feathered bird?”

“Not really,” Daisy said as Jane and Cosette nodded in agreement that the sheriff hadn’t quite imparted sufficiently satisfactory details. Daisy’s heart rate was still revving as she began to realize that the men had sold her out and the one she’d been spending delicious nights with had slipped out without saying a word to her. “What was the point of this male bonding?”

The sheriff smiled. “You know how it is when we fellows get together. We just hash out life, come to no solutions and feel like we’ve accomplished something.”

“A solution was achieved if John’s gone,” Daisy said.

“He is gone,” Dennis said. “Said something about returning to his home.”

“He doesn’t have a home,” Jane said, “other than the Hanging H, which is his home now.”

“Oh, he has a home,” Dennis said, “it’s just not one you and I would really think of as one. His is on the rodeo circuit.”

“All the men say that,” Cosette said, huffing out a breath impatiently. “They always claim rodeo is their hearth, heart and home.”

“In John’s case, it’s true.” Dennis looked wistfully toward the kitchen. “His family is now heading toward Santa Fe, apparently, hauling along the family domicile. Rather like a circus train, I suppose.”

“What in the world are you talking about?” Cosette demanded.

“John’s family follows the rodeo. That’s how they make their living.” Dennis shrugged. “His mom’s a cowboy preacher, and his dad and brothers are bullfighters and barrel men, going back generations. They’ve got a little motor home that they go from town to town in.”

“Rather a gypsy-ish lifestyle, isn’t it?” Jane asked, and Daisy’s heart sank. Just hearing this description of John’s home life made her realize that he might, conceivably, never darken the doors of Bridesmaids Creek again.

“Yep,” Dennis said, “and he’s not coming back. Not anytime soon, anyway.”

There was no way she could let that happen. Not after she’d finally come to her senses, after all the many moons of not realizing what a catch Squint—John—really was, hiding under all that brown-eyed, gentle bear exterior. Daisy swallowed hard, realizing the people sitting around the table were studying her, waiting silently for her to speak up.

Maybe it did serve her right to have John desert her for good after the many times he’d tried to win her. But she wasn’t the kind of woman who gave up—in fact, there were some who said that adversity only strengthened her will.

“You realize, Daisy, there won’t be a race run or a swim swum for you,” Jane said gently. “I’m afraid you threw away your three chances.”

“She didn’t throw them away,” Cosette said, her eyes softening as she looked at Daisy. Daisy felt this was very sweet of Cosette, especially as much of Cosette’s hard luck was Daisy’s fault. “She merely misplaced her three chances. Magic is never gone forever.”

Daisy paused. Of course. She was a Bridesmaids Creek girl, even if she’d come to town late, at the age of three. The magic would still work for her—it had to.

Because John made love to her like no man ever could, and it might have taken her way too long to realize it, but she knew in every corner of her heart that she was in love with him.

“I’m going to need help,” Daisy said softly. “I could really use some assistance in figuring out the right way to convince John that leaving Bridesmaids Creek wasn’t his best decision.”

They all took that in.

“We’re always here for one of our hometown girls,” Dennis said solemnly, and the ladies nodded, and Daisy felt warmed just by being designated a “hometown” girl. Maybe forgiveness was possible after all. She sure hoped so.

Now she just had to convince John that his home was here, and not the place where he’d grown up.

Rodeo.

* * *

JOHN FOUND HIS parents and brothers just outside of Santa Fe. Their small silver mobile home rumbled under turquoise-colored skies, with a truck—his brothers’—following closely behind. If not for cell phone contact, he would have missed them.

Mary and Mack Mathison waved at him as he pulled alongside their white truck, which hauled the silver Airstream mobile home they’d bought too many years ago for John to remember. His brothers Javier and Jackson saluted him, and he fell back into position, trailing behind the white truck lettered Mathison on both doors in black. Home sweet home.

This was it. He turned on some tunes, tried not to think about Daisy and told himself he was content to caravan as far away from Texas as possible.

“This could never have been her life,” John told the smiling bobblehead dog on his dash. “Daisy grew up with so much wealth, so much of everything, that she couldn’t possibly understand this kind of pared-down existence.”

The black-and-white bobblehead dog he’d named Joe, because it fit the J motif of his and his brothers’ names, neither agreed nor disagreed. In fact, Joe didn’t seem to be worried about much of anything other than the sunburn he was getting on his furry behind, courtesy of dash sitting. John watched the mountains of New Mexico fade away, thought about how beautiful it would be to see this highway on his motorcycle, with Daisy parked comfortably on the back, her arms around his waist, which she’d done all the way back from Montana. He got a woody just remembering her delicate arms around him, felt a dull hammer begin inside his skull.

“Holy Christmas,” John muttered. “I’m going to have to take up serious meditation to get her out of my head.”

He’d left his motorcycle in Bridesmaids Creek, under Sam’s care, with dire instructions that it was to be in the same beloved condition when he returned. Sam had agreed with a grin, saying smartly that of course it looked even better with Daisy polishing the seat, and would he mind—

“At which point I gave Sam such a glare that he shut clean up,” John told Joe, and Joe nodded in approval. Or maybe he didn’t nod in approval, but if he wasn’t nodding in approval, then what the hell good was a bobblehead dog to a man, anyway?

At the border connecting New Mexico and Colorado, his parents stopped the caravan at a roadside rest stop. He hadn’t expected them to stop so soon, as life on the road was about putting the miles between destinations. But they were more than happy to halt the train soon after he’d joined them, to welcome him back to the fold.

“What the hell, son?” Mack demanded, giving him a tight hug. “You took a year off my life showing up like that. I thought I’d seen a ghost.”

“Might as well be a ghost,” Mary said. “He hasn’t been around in four years.”

His brothers banged him on the back with enthusiasm. “We missed the hell out of you,” Javier said.

“We’ve been keeping Mack and Mary on the circuit,” Jackson said. “It’ll be good to have you back. You can help us keep them focused. They keep wanting to run off to New Zealand.”

“New Zealand?” John looked at his parents as they began checking over the ancient trailer. There was never much time for idle conversation. Everyone had their chores and responsibilities at each stop, where duties were parceled out and executed with a minimum of discussion. It was all business: check the equipment, use the facilities, stretch the legs and get back in the trucks.

As a child, John had carried along a soccer ball to kick with his brothers at the stops. He’d always wished they could stop long enough to have a real picnic at one of the shaded tables that usually graced a rest stop. On their birthdays, they did—but as a rule, the road was a demanding mistress, and must be gotten back to immediately.

“It’s my birthday,” he said suddenly, wanting his parents and brothers to cease their ant-like scurrying, and act as if him showing up in their midst after four years away was actually a big deal.

“Your birthday?” Mary frowned, thinking. “Is it?”

John nodded. “Yes.”

“Good heavens,” Mack said. “I think he’s telling the truth.”

“I’m a Navy SEAL,” John said. “I lean toward honesty.”

They stared at him, perplexed. “It’s just that we stay in our groove,” Mary said. “We don’t mean to seem uncaring.”

“I know.” John shrugged. “No big deal. Let’s sit down and have a water bottle or something. Talk.”

His parents took that in.

“All right, son,” Mack said after a long moment. “Javier, do we have any birthday cake in the trailer freezer?”

John sighed, remembering this well. Birthday cakes, of course, were kept in the freezer, for birthdays occurring on the road. No muss, no fuss. And nothing home baked. The boys had been homeschooled, too, which meant a rolling education. But Mary was smart, and they’d learned everything they needed to know to do very well on the standardized tests. At one point, young Javier had even decided he might want to attend college and had applied to Florida State, finding himself a very desirable candidate before he’d ultimately decided he preferred to stay with the family.

That was what happened: you spent your life on the road, and nothing else seemed as exciting.

They sat under one of the awnings at a concrete table. A couple of birds hopped near, wondering if the humans might drop any crumbs. Pity the bird that thinks it is getting crumbs from the Mathisons, John thought—feeling bad when Javier came out from the trailer triumphantly bearing five slices of cake, one of them anointed with a lit candle. Javier put this one in front of John, grinning. He whistled a long note, and his family all burst into the “Happy Birthday” song.

“Make a wish!” they exclaimed, so John blew out his candle—totally annoyed with himself when he realized that the image that flickered across his mind the instant he tried to think of what he’d wish for was Daisy’s beautiful face.

Before he’d had a chance to stop his brain, he’d wished she were here with him right now.

What a stupid wish.

Chapter Three

John couldn’t have been more stunned when Sam’s truck pulled up beside the family trailer, but his brain seemed to separate into two parts when Daisy’s long-legged sexiness got out of the passenger side.

He shoved his cake with the birthday candle still smoking far away from him—clearly Bridesmaids Creek didn’t have the only claim to mystical mayhem—and got up to greet his friend. And the woman who drove him mad even in his sleep.

“What the hell, buddy?” John said to Sam, slapping the bearlike man on the back by way of embrace. Over Sam’s shoulder, John’s gaze was locked onto Daisy. She smiled, looking a trifle unsure of herself, which was unusual for Daisy. “What brings you two here?”

“Following you,” Sam said, then went to say hello to Mr. and Mrs. Mathison, and Javier and Jackson.

That left John staring at Daisy, drowning in her dark eyes. “Hi.”

She smiled. “Hello.”

“So, is somebody going to tell me what’s going on?” John asked.

“You left without saying goodbye.”

“How did you find me?”

“It wasn’t hard. You told the fellows exactly where you were headed. Sam said we’d just get in the truck and follow the smoke of your truck as you burned rubber out of BC.” She frowned. “How could you leave without saying goodbye? After...after we rode on your motorcycle all the way home from Montana?”

That was a nice way of saying How could you just leave like that after we’d made love like crazy? John sighed. “I’m sorry. I was probably a heel. Didn’t think it through.”

“I’d say you didn’t.” Daisy’s frown deepened, and he could tell she was really hurt.

“Daisy, look,” he began, “we just don’t suit. You know that.”

She stared at him silently.

“I mean, we suit sexually,” he said, lowering his voice, then pulled her farther from the group. His parents would be concerned about getting off schedule, but for the moment, they seemed happy to visit with Sam. Sam, of course, had helped himself to John’s slice of cake, casually flinging the candle in the trash. “What happened in Montana is best left in Montana.”

Daisy shook her head. “I don’t believe that’s really what you want.”

“Do you see my family, Daze?” He pointed to the trailer. “This is my life, and it’s as far away from Bridesmaids Creek and all that crazy magic as it could be. This is real life, this is the real John Lopez ‘Squint’ Mathison. I ain’t no Prince Charming, sweetheart.”

“I understand that you’re—that you’ve misunderstood what I need from a man after I chased Cisco, stupidly, of course,” Daisy began, but he shook his head.

“I don’t even think about that. I knew what was going on all along. I understood that you were just trying to fit in, and to find your own place in BC. But, Daisy, beautiful as you are, as desirable as you are, I’m not the man for you. I’m sorry.” He took a deep breath. “I’m really sorry that you came all this way having to listen to Sam’s hot air, too.”

“John,” Daisy began.

“I’m not going to turn into a handsome, secret prince like Cisco did.”

“Cisco’s from some kind of minor, minor royal lineage. And that’s not why I’m here!”

“But at the time, the idea of a title was dazzling to you, and this,” he said, gesturing to the beat-up trailer, “isn’t dazzling. It didn’t dazzle you then, and it’s not going to dazzle you now, but this is my family. This is our way of life.” He touched one of her long dark locks ruefully. “And I don’t think you’re exactly cut out for the migrant sort of life, princess.”

She moved his hand. “Thank you for your opinion, but I’m capable of figuring out what I want.”

“Because you knew what you wanted last year?” he asked, hating to be an ass but needing to make her see.

She stepped closer. “John, I know you care about me.”

“Always have, and part of me always will.” He moved away from her. “Trust me, Daisy, this would be an even bigger mistake than you and Cisco would have been.”

“I was never in love with Cisco. I never cared about him, not the way you think I did.” Daisy looked like tears might sprout any second, which was also a very unusual thing for the town’s ex-bad girl. “You and I belong together, John Mathison.”

He had to give her credit, being a daddy’s girl had taught her to go after what she wanted. Or thought she wanted. But John understood human nature, and in this case, Daisy had just turned her gotta-have-it shopping list from one man to another. “Next year, it’ll be someone else, beautiful, I promise.”

She reached out, lightly touching the Saint Michael medal under his denim shirt. “You and I both know about this medal. You got it from a peddler you met when you and your family were following the rodeo. He told you it would always protect you. All of you SEALs have one, but you and Cisco got yours switched overseas one day at training, and Suz thinks that tangled up something. She said it misplaced the Bridesmaids Creek magic, so that I thought Cisco was the man for me.” Daisy took a deep breath. “I’m not sure it happened that way. You’ve always been the only man for me. In fact, I know it in my heart. It just took me too long to see it. But I’m not going to beg you, John.” She smacked his chest, right over his heart, and his breath flew from him, his brain shot into outer space and that red corpuscle-driving organ that was trying to deny how much it cared for Daisy seemed to stop beating for just the space of a second. Peace and tranquillity descended upon John just as Daisy walked away from him to go introduce herself to his family—only to be replaced by red-hot lust and fiery passion engulfing his entire soul as he watched her walk away from him. It felt as if he were drowning in desire, as if his impulses were threatening to overtake his good sense. Aching to take back every word he’d said, he rubbed his chest where she’d lightly smacked his heart, willing himself to come back inside his body and be rational, damn it—but he had never really been rational where Daisy Donovan was concerned, and today was probably not going to be the day he started.

Bridesmaids Creek’s reach appeared to be long-ranging.

* * *

“I’M FINE,” DAISY said as she and Sam got back into his truck. “Thanks for driving me out here to find John’s knuckleheaded self.”

Sam laughed as he pulled onto the highway. “I told you he’d have his cabeza pretty well stuffed up his butt.”

“It’s a lot of my own fault.” Daisy sighed, resisting the urge to glance over her shoulder in the vain hope that John might have had second thoughts about sending her away and was even now charging after Sam’s truck. “I chased something I didn’t even want too long, and ignored the man who is right for me. I don’t blame him for not being entirely convinced that my heart belongs to him.”

“So now what?”

“Now,” Daisy said on a long breath, “hopefully, I enjoy a healthy pregnancy—”

“What?” Sam slammed on the brakes.

“Don’t you dare even think about turning around and going back.”

“But you didn’t tell him that! I know you didn’t! John would never have let you go if he knew you were pregnant! Are you really expecting a baby?”

“Keep driving,” Daisy said in a toneless command. “Yes, I’m expecting a baby.”

“Holy crap!” Sam turned the air conditioner on full blast, though the day was chilly and overcast. “Listen, you’re going to get me in a whole lot of caca with one John Lopez Mathison. If he finds out that I knew—”

“It’s all right, Sam. John’s made his choice. I’m not using a baby to change his mind. Absolutely not. And if you tell him,” Daisy said, staring at him, “I’ll set the matchmakers in town on you.”

The gentle bear of a man literally developed a peaked cast under his skin. “You wouldn’t!”

“I would.”

“I don’t want a woman! I don’t want a bride. Everyone has long known that I came along with John and Cisco just for the ride. Just to cause trouble, really.”

“I’m aware.” Daisy nodded. “But troublemakers sometimes find trouble.”

He pulled off a ramp and parked in a deserted parking lot that appeared to once have housed shops, but was now long abandoned. “Daisy, listen. When Ty Spurlock invited us to BC to find brides, I made it clear that was for everyone but me. I made a deal, in fact, with Cosette that she leave me out of any sprinklings from her magic wand.” He mopped his brow with a blue bandanna. “I’m everybody’s friend and nobody’s fellow, you see what I mean?”

She shrugged. “All you have to do is keep your lips sealed very tightly, Sam. If I’m going to catch John, I don’t need you bringing him back home when he thinks he needs to be free.”

He gulped, his brown eyes rolling nervously. “I don’t want to agree to this, but I’ve seen the BC magic at work, and it’s potent stuff.”

“When applied correctly, yes, it is. Don’t think for one minute that I couldn’t convince Cosette that you’re just talking big, Sam Barr, and like every other man claiming you don’t want a woman. It wouldn’t be hard to convince Cosette that settling the mischief-maker of BC down would be a pièce de résistance for her magic wand.”

He took a deep, shuddering breath. “Excuse me,” he said, and got out of the truck. Reached into the double cab to pull a handful of ice from the cooler, wrapped it inside his blue bandanna and stuck it against his forehead. “He’s going to know, Daisy. Someone will tell him.”

“I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it. But he can’t know, not yet. He will know eventually,” Daisy said. “You’re going to have to give me time.”

He nodded. “I know. I get it. I totally understand. You don’t know John like I do, and he’s superstitious as hell. You learn these things about a man in a war zone.”

“Superstitious?”

“Yeah. He really bought into all that BC charm and nonsense.”

“Nonsense!” Daisy sat up. “BC makes its living on that nonsense, and though I may be late to understanding it, I certainly endorse anything that fiscally benefits our town!”

Sam got back in the front seat, handing her a water bottle and cracking one open for himself. “Whatever happened up in Montana really changed you, Daisy. I don’t know what potion Branch Winters poured over you, but it’s a humdinger.”

Daisy shook her head. “I fell in love,” she said softly. “Branch helped me see the path, but the fact is, I’ve been in love with John for a long time. I was much too invested in my own pride to see it. And now I’m going to have to earn his, and the town’s, trust. I’m willing to do that, but it’s going to take time, which I won’t have if you go bumping your gums all over BC.”

“They’ll know as soon as you start showing.” He cast an aggrieved glance at her tummy.

“I have time.” At least she hoped so.

Sam shook his head, glanced up at the roof of the truck. “Daisy Donovan, I’m only going to say this once because my whole body is going to go into shock, but there’s only one way to bring my buddy back home, and to his senses, even.”

“I’ll happily take any advice you can give me.” She meant every word, too. Earning John’s trust wasn’t going to be easy—she’d made quite a mess of things, and Daisy didn’t need Sam, or Cosette or anybody else in town to spell that out for her.

“You’re going to have to let me put a ring on your finger,” Sam said, before passing out and falling over like a giant bear with its cotton stuffing pulled out.

She patted his face urgently. “Sam! Don’t be a schmuck, I’m not marrying you!” Grabbing the cold bandanna, she wiped it over his face, shrieking when John knocked on the driver’s-side window.

“John!”

He pulled open the door. “What the hell is going on?”

“Sam fainted!” She patted his face some more, willing color back into the dark skin. “He proposed to me, and then he—”

“What?” John helped her lay Sam across the seat and Daisy got out of the truck to make room. She worked on Sam at one end of the cab, and John worked on Sam from the driver’s side. “You’re gone five minutes and work a proposal out of Handsome Sam? Wake up, buddy,” he said, touching cold water to Sam’s face, “so I can knock you back out again!”

* * *

SAM CAME TO—finally!—and John breathed a sigh of relief. “Helluva a beauty nap you took there, buddy.”

“What can I say? I need my forty winks.” Sam sat up, glanced over at Daisy, whose face looked tragically concerned for Sam. “But I’m doing fine. This sexy, amazing woman has just agreed to—”

“Yeah, yeah.” John helped his friend none too gently to sit up. “You big faker.”

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