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Invitation To A Wedding Page 2

“Don’t move a muscle. I’ll go fetch him.”

  The dazzling smile she gave Ben was the best job of acting she’d done since the night she received her engagement ring.

  “I’ll wait for you, Josie,” Ben said, and she left him to face the music.

  Jerry Bob met her halfway across the room, and his mother was not far behind.

  “What on earth are you thinking of, Josie? You’ve been over there holding hands with that man for hours.”

  “He’s an old college friend, Jerry Bob, and we haven’t been here for hours. We’ve only been here twenty minutes.”

  Josie hated being put on the defensive. Even more, she hated resorting to excuses. She’d opened her mouth to tell Jerry Bob a few things about trust when his mother arrived, her mouth working like a fish.

  “I’m absolutely mortified,” she said. “Who on earth invited that Indian?”

  Josie was so outraged she didn’t dare speak. She shot a pleading glance at Jerry Bob. He could set his mother straight in a diplomatic way, whereas Josie would definitely burn bridges.

  A frown creased his forehead and sweat beaded his upper lip.

  “Mother’s right, Josie. People are beginning to talk.” Her feathers fell, as Aunt Tess was fond of saying. But it was Jerry Bob’s next remark that drove a stake through her heart. “It would be bad enough if he was someone we know, but an Indian, Josie!”

  He waited expectantly for her to apologize and make the peace. Instead, she was going to burn bridges. Oh, she was definitely going to burn bridges, for in the last few moments she’d discovered that there was no way in heaven or earth she could marry Jerry Bob Crawford.

  The simple thing would be to hand him his ring and walk away, but Josie had never in her life done the simple thing. Besides, she had a better plan; she was going to let Jerry Bob ask for the ring back. That way he’d save face; she’d gain her freedom.

  And along the way, extract a little revenge for her best friend, Ben Standing Bear.

  “Well, Josie.” Clytee Crawford pursed her lips and lifted her eyebrows into her starched hairdo. “What do you have to say for yourself?”

  “That Indian, as you call him, happens to be a very fine Sioux doctor named Ben Standing Bear, and when you get sick and in need I hope he takes your scalp.”

  Clytee’s mouth fell open and Jerry Bob made a strangling sound.

  “Furthermore, I invited him. He’s my friend, and one hell of a dancer.”

  Josie put an extra wiggle in her hips as she marched off. She detoured by the bandstand with her request, then sashayed in Ben’s direction.

  “They’re playing our song,” she said, reaching for his hands.

  The great thing about Ben was that he never questioned her. Their connection was so deep it didn’t need words.

  He swept her into his arms and onto the empty dance floor. They’d won a prize once when Josie had talked Ben into entering a local dance competition. Their winning number had been the tango.

  On fire with the hot Latin beat and the nearness of the man that time couldn’t erase from her heat, she molded herself against Ben. But not merely to feel his rhythm. She was feeling his soul.

  Flames leaped into his eyes as he caught her close, then dipped her so low her hair brushed against the floor.

  “This is the only acceptable way of making love in public,” he said.

  “Yes. I know.”

  Chapter Two

  Just like old times, Ben thought as he and Josie danced. Though he hadn’t danced in years, he’d forgotten neither the steps nor the rhythm. What he had forgotten was the feel of Josie in his arms.

  Suddenly he knew it wasn’t like old times at all. If holding Josie had felt this good in college, he’d have remembered, wouldn’t he?

  “I’d forgotten what a great dancer you are, Josie.”

  “I haven’t forgotten a single thing about you, Ben. Not one, including how you always get that bemused look in your eyes when you dip me. I’ve always wondered what it meant.”

  Josie had always been the most honest woman he’d ever known. That was one of the things he liked about her.

  “You must not have wondered very much, Josie. All I got from you after college was a couple of Christmas cards.”

  “That’s more than I got from you, Ben Standing Bear. One lousy birthday card.”

  “You didn’t like it?”

  “I like roses.” She swiveled closer to him, if that were possible, and whispered, “Can you make this dance look a little sexier?”

  “Your wish is my command, Josie.”

  It always had been. That’s why he hadn’t questioned her when she’d asked him to dance. He hadn’t had to ask: her face said it all. He’d witnessed the exchange between her and Jerry Bob Crawford. He’d seen the set expressions on the faces of her future husband and the woman he assumed would be Josie’s mother-in-law, heaven help both of them.

  Josie’s eyes had been shooting fire when she’d left them gawking in her direction with their mouths hanging open. She frequently left people in that condition.

  That was another thing he liked about her: she never gave half measure on anything. With Josie it was whole hog or nothing. She was as passionate about her opinions as she was about her causes.

  And speaking of passionate, what she was doing to him right now ought to be against the law. Everything about her was provocative, from the way she moved her hips to the way she gazed deep into his eyes. He was finding out the hard way that his feelings for another man’s intended were anything but appropriate.

  As the Latin beat pulsed through him, he pulled her so close you couldn’t get a straw between their bodies, then executed a move that censors would have given an X-rating. Ben was too introspective to pretend, even to himself, that he was merely following Josie’s instructions. Quite the contrary. What he was doing on the dance floor with Josie Belle Pickens was not what he had done with his best friend in college. What he was doing was what any sane man would do with a girl he used to know who had turned into the most exciting woman he’d ever seen. He was performing a mating ritual as old as time: The man postures and preens and shows all his colors hoping to attract the attention of the most desirable of the female species.

  And that would be Josie Belle Pickens. Formerly his best friend. Most recently, a tantalizing woman completely out of his reach.

  If she’s so out of your reach, why isn’t she dancing this way with her fiancé? Ben decided to break his long-standing code with Josie: no questions asked.

  Her full skirt spread over the floor like the petals of an exotic red flower as he dipped her low, then bent close to her face, so close he could see the golden starburst in the center of her incredible blue eyes.

  “Just what is this game you’re playing, Josie?”

  “Don’t you like it?”

  “I didn’t say I didn’t like it.” He swept her up so close her lips were almost touching his. Suddenly it was hard for him to think. “I asked a question that deserves an answer. Right now your soon-to-be husband is looking at me as if he’s planning a hanging party and I’m the featured guest.”

  “Good. He deserves to stew in his own oils.”

  “I don’t plan to stew along with him. Out with it, Josie. What’s the story?”

  “You made me miss a step.”

  “You might as well stop trying to avoid the question. You know I don’t give up, Josie.”

  “Lord knows, do I ever. Who could forget that ball you knocked clear out of the park after everybody had written you off?”

  He’d been playing college baseball, the team was having a winning season, and his own stats were breaking records. Then he’d been sidelined with a broken wrist, written off for the rest of the year by the coach, the players, the sportswriters and all the fans. “Even if you play again this season,” the doctors warned him, “don’t expect to hit home runs. The wrist will be weaker, you’ll have less mobility. It’s going to take a long time to come back a hundred percent,
if you ever do.”

  So he’d sat on the sidelines and watched his team fall behind in the conference ratings, then slowly and painfully begin to lose the game that would decide whether they advanced to the championship.

  “Put me up at bat,” he’d told the coach. When Ben wouldn’t give up, Pat Slader had finally agreed. With bases loaded, two out and two strikes against him, Ben had smashed the ball out of the stadium. They still hadn’t won the game, but it was a play everybody had said was impossible for Ben. It was the play nobody would ever forget.

  Bear on the Warpath Again, the headlines had shouted. But he hadn’t been. Not really. He’d been approached by the majors, but his injury made Ben understand once and for all how fleeting fame can be, and how quickly it can be taken away.

  And so he’d chosen the long, arduous path toward a medical degree, and in the process had lost touch with the one person he’d thought would always be around— Josie Belle.

  Ben didn’t believe in coincidence. Fate had set her in his path once more, but for what purpose? He supposed he’d find out in time…if he lived long enough.

  The song had ended, Josie was still clinging to him like a honeysuckle vine and Jerry Bob was headed their way.

  “Hang on to your hat, Josie. Here comes trouble.”

  “Good. Let ’er rip.”

  She wiggled closer to Ben. What could he do but be a gentleman and protect her the way he always had? Ben kept his arm around Josie and watched her fiancé coming. A big man with a little too much girth, he moved like a freight train under full steam.

  He didn’t even bother to acknowledge Ben, but turned the full force of his wrath toward Josie.

  “Josie Belle, I’ve had about enough of your shenanigans.”

  “Good.” She gave him an impudent grin.

  “I’m not kidding. You’re embarrassing Mama. Come on here and stop acting like this.”

  “Make me.”

  Something more was going on here than a lovers’ quarrel, and from the dark looks Jerry Bob cast his way, it didn’t take Ben long to solve the mystery. He was not only a foreigner in the heart of a small Southern town, but he was breaking their codes of behavior. He’d been around long enough to know the protocol: be polite, smile a lot, tell a white lie when the truth ruffles feathers and, above all, don’t act as if you’re a part of the crowd until you’re invited. Especially don’t dance the tango with the bride-to-be.

  “Gosh danged, Josie Belle. Now stop that.”

  Jerry Bob loosened his collar with his finger. If he weren’t being such a jerk, Ben would feel sorry for him.

  “This is not what you think,” Ben said. He was a peacemaker by nature. Besides, getting off on the wrong foot was not a good way to set up a practice in a small town. Most of the people in this room would at one time or another end up in his office with sniffly noses and hacking coughs and one of the viruses running rampant. “Allow me to introduce myself. I’m Josie’s old friend from college, Ben Standing Bear.”

  Keeping one hand planted firmly around Josie’s waist just in case, he held out his other hand. Jerry Bob ignored it.

  “I know who you are. What I don’t know is how come you’re trying to steal my wife.”

  “Now wait a minute…” Ben said.

  “I am not your wife, Jerry Bob. Not yet.”

  “Saturday you will be.”

  “Saturdays can be a long time coming.” Suddenly Josie spun away from both of them, then waving two fingers she said, “Ta-ta. You two have fun.”

  “Josie, you’d better not be up to any more tricks.” Ignoring her fiancé, Josie kept on walking. Ben noticed she put more swing than necessary in her hips. Not that he was complaining. Not by a long shot. “What are you up to now, Josie?” her fiancé called after her.

  She glanced over her shoulder and winked. “Watch me and find out, Jerry Bob.”

  She sashayed up to the bandstand, but instead of making another song request, as Jerry Bob obviously had assumed she would, Josie mounted the steps and took the microphone.

  Thunderstruck, Jerry Bob waved his arms at her, a frantic signal for her to come down.

  “This song is for a very special friend, somebody I haven’t seen in a long, long time.” She leaned over to consult with the bandleader.

  What was she going to do? Jerry Bob looked ready to have a stroke, but Ben was intrigued. That was the thing about Josie. She’d always intrigued him. He’d never known what to expect from her, and only now with the perspective of years did he realize how exciting that could be.

  The guests began to be aware that there was high drama taking place in their midst, and started gathering around the bandstand. By the time Josie returned to the microphone, she had quite an attentive audience. There was a collective gasp when she started singing. The song she’d chosen was “Amazed,” a top seller by the group called Lonestar and one of the most romantic tunes to come down the pike in a long time.

  Josie had a great bluesy voice and she knew how to wrap it around a song. Furthermore, she knew how to deliver. And there was not a single doubt in anybody’s mind who she was delivering the song to. It was the stranger in their midst.

  Ben was by turns pleased, amused and shocked. The song was a love ballad, the words such a straightforward declaration that they left no doubt whatsoever as to their meaning.

  This was a song Josie should be singing to her fiancé. With every gesture, every move, every nuance, she made it clear that she was not. She was singing to one man, and one man only, Ben Standing Bear.

  For one shining moment he believed what Josie was singing to be true—they were two people in love. For one heart-aching interlude the crowd vanished and he was alone in the room with a woman he’d viewed all these years as merely a friend. Loss settled like a stone in the pit of his stomach. He’d been too busy to see what was right before his eyes: a woman worthy of a man’s full attention, a woman who would be so easy to love, a woman who went through life with her arms and her heart wide open, a woman you could hurt if you weren’t very careful. A woman who now belonged to another man.

  And that man had no idea of the treasure he possessed. He wanted to take a magic fairy and turn her into a toad. He wanted to clip her wings, silence her voice, tame her spirit.

  Jerry Bob Crawford wasn’t worthy to tie Josie’s shoes.

  Ben’s heart hurt for her. He hurt for all the dirty looks and frantic directives her husband would send her way. He wanted to tuck her under his arm and run so that she would never suffer the humiliation of being considered an embarrassment to the Crawford family when she should be considered the brightest jewel in the family’s crown.

  By the time Josie finished the song, the crowd had a new drama to witness: Jerry Bob’s much-deferred-to mama went into a swoon and required three people to carry her to one of the sofas near the bar. A woman who possessed more good intentions than good sense raced to the bar and returned with a glass brimming with whiskey. Mama came out of her swoon long enough to send the glass flying, then screech, “You know I don’t touch that stuff. I leave it to the likes of Josie Belle Pickens up yonder on that stage acting like a strumpet.”

  Rage robbed Ben of his senses. There was no telling what he would have done if the woman hadn’t faked another swoon. Flattened against the faded cabbage roses she began to moan and carry on as if she were about to give birth. Every now and then she’d lift her head and let out a pitiful wail to her son.

  “Jer-ry Bo-o-o-b, I need you.”

  Jerry Bob didn’t rush right to his mama’s side because he had other fish to fry. His jaw tight, he started stalking toward the stage. Ben blocked his path.

  “If you harm one hair on her head I’ll take your scalp.”

  “Move out of my way.”

  “Not until you calm down. I think there’s been enough sensation for one evening, don’t you?”

  “You should have thought of that before you and Josie showed off out on the dance floor.”

  “It’s call
ed the tango.”

  “I don’t care what it’s called. It looked vulgar to me. Now get out of my way.”

  Jerry Bob tried to skirt around him, but Ben moved quickly, depriving him of his target once more. And once more Ben found himself in the role of peacemaker.

  “Josie is a high-spirited woman,” he said. “That’s all. Apparently you did or said something to make her mad, and she’s getting even with you.”

  “She didn’t act like this till you came along.”

  “Josie’s not acting. She’s being her usual delightful self.”

  “I don’t think I like the way you refer to the woman I was planning to marry.”

  “Why don’t you and I go outside and walk around till you calm down?”

  “And leave Josie up there to mortify Mama again?”

  It was taking three hefty men, all in waiters’ jackets, to mop up the mess Mama had made.

  “It looks like she can take care of herself. Josie’s the one I’m worried about. She’s so full of bravado she makes you think she could whip the world with one hand tied behind her back. But underneath is a soft, vulnerable woman who needs understanding and lots of hugging.”

  “Well, she’s not fixing to get it from me. Not after tonight.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “If you’ll get out of my way, I’ll show you.”

  “I’m not moving until I know your intentions.”

  Over on the sofa Mama let out another moan, and Jerry Bob began to twitch like a man possessed.

  “Lordy.” Jerry Bob mopped his brow with a handkerchief. “All I want to do is get my ring back and get Mama home.”

  Ben’s relief was all out of proportion to the situation. After all, Josie was merely an old friend he was still protecting out of habit, wasn’t she?

  “That’s all you intend to do?”

  “What do you take me for? A heathen?”

  “No. I knew the minute I spotted you that you were a gentleman.” Ben stepped out of Jerry Bob’s way, then fell into step beside him.

  “What do you think you’re doing?” Jerry Bob asked.

  “I’m going with you just to make sure your gentlemanly conduct doesn’t fail you.”