A Wedding in Wyoming. Deb Kastner

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      What did she have to worry about? This was Scotty’s friend, fresh from sprawling Wyoming ranch land. Surely her family would realize he couldn’t possibly be her Johnny.

      There would only be a moment of confusion before things were set to right and she could go back to enjoying the reunion.

      “So,” asked Auntie Myra in a casual tone that belied her open, wide-eyed curiosity, “Are you the Johnny we’ve heard about?”

      Jenn cringed inwardly, though she reminded herself again and again there was no real danger in him answering that question. The man wouldn’t have the slightest notion of what Auntie Myra was really asking, and would, naturally, answer to the negative.

      End of subject.

      Johnny definitely looked stunned as he stared from face to face. But after a moment he quirked his lips, shrugged, and announced, “Guess I’ve been found out. Yes, ma’am. That would be me.”

      Jenn felt her legs buckle underneath her and moved quickly to the sofa and sat before she fell down. She had no idea why the unknown cowboy had answered the way he had, but now she—and he, for that matter—had, as the old saying went, a lot of ’splaining to do.

      She was suddenly furious at the gall of the cowboy. Never mind that this whole set up was her doing in the first place.

      How could he say he was the Johnny? There was no Johnny! What kind of a game was he playing?

      Everyone rushed at him at once, deluging him with questions.

      When had he met Jenn?

      How long had they been together?

      And how long had it been since they’d seen each other last, what with him wrangling and all?

      

      Johnny sent a panicked glance at Scotty, but his friend just grinned and shrugged. Obviously the boy would be no help in sorting this out.

      Who was Jenn? What were these nutty people talking about?

      Suddenly he spied the young woman seated on the sofa, the pretty woman who’d been the first to notice him when he and Scotty first arrived. She was also, he’d noted, the only one of her spirited family who’d held back in the initial greeting, not offering him a welcome, much less a hug. She must be the sister Scotty had mentioned.

      She now looked a little woozy. Her eyes looked glazed over and she was gripping the arm of the sofa like a lifeline. He guessed her to be around his age—twenty-five or twenty-six at most. She had gorgeous, short golden curls, a pretty, perky little nose, intelligent blue eyes, and a face as red as a Macintosh apple.

      Obviously, she was the woman they were all talking about. What he didn’t know was what they were talking about.

      He’d thought Scotty’s family had recognized him from a magazine cover or a television news story, but apparently that was not the case. He didn’t know whether to be relieved or alarmed.

      He had to figure out what was going on, and fast. He thrust his fingers through his hair and tapped his Stetson against his thigh. If these people didn’t know who he really was—and they clearly didn’t—he didn’t want to tip off his own hand.

      He hesitated in revealing his true identity—just yet. Not to this happy, real family who apparently didn’t keep up with national news all that well.

      But he still didn’t know who they thought he was. He had to figure out some way to gain the information he needed without giving himself away.

      And then he realized the answer to his problem, that other way, was staring straight back at him, half glaring, half beckoning, as if she expected him to say something that would clear up everything. To say that he was in no way connected with her, apparently.

      And he supposed he would…in time. At the moment, he just wanted to hear what was invariably going to be a highly amusing story, especially if it came from the mouth of the lovely woman on the sofa.

      He grinned widely as he looked away from Jenn and tipped his head toward her aunt, his fingers tugging at the imaginary brim of his hat. Cowboy style, he thought, his smile growing even bigger. “I’m mighty pleased to meet you all,” he said, giving a show at his most charming drawl. “But I wonder if I might have a moment alone with—uh,—Jenn?”

      He couldn’t remember everyone’s names in the enthusiastic jumble of introductions, but Jenn’s name was sealed firmly in his mind.

      “Why, of course,” answered a fine-looking middle-age woman who could only be Scotty and Jenn’s mother. She had the same golden curls—albeit with a bit of white—and the same vibrant blue eyes as her daughter. “You two probably haven’t seen each other in ages.”

      Which was the understatement of the century, Johnny thought, his lips twitching with amusement.

      “We’ll all retire to the kitchen to get sandwiches prepared for everyone,” Jenn’s grandmother suggested, “and give you two a little privacy.”

      Jenn was on her feet in an instant. “I don’t think—” She stopped, looking around with wide eyes. A deer caught in the headlights, Johnny thought. She looked as if she were about to be run over by a blaring semi truck.

      Johnny still had absolutely no idea what was going on, but it had to be one good story. He probably would have laughed out loud if the poor young woman by the sofa didn’t look so pitifully miserable.

      He hadn’t felt like laughing—really laughing—in a very long time, and he savored the feeling. He’d let his work get the best of him, stealing away his teenage years, not to mention the first half of his twenties. Taking this summer off was the best thing that had ever happened to him.

      Especially now, when he’d somehow landed in the midst of a happy, if chaotic, family, and a mystery he was eager to solve.

      “Now, Jenn,” said Scotty’s and Jenn’s grandmother, “be gracious to your guest. Fresh-ground coffee is on its way.” She turned to Johnny. “Please, young man, be seated.” Her forceful sideways glance at Jenn clearly indicated she should do the same.

      Jenn nodded mutely at her family as all but her brother departed for the kitchen.

      Scotty didn’t budge. He was grinning at Johnny like he’d just roped a steer on the first try. Scotty didn’t speak, but he chuckled and lifted one eyebrow.

      Johnny just shrugged.

      “Scotty,” Jenn said, her voice just a little bit shaky and very much pleading, “please.”

      Scotty laughed rowdily but moved to join the others in the kitchen.

      

      Jenn cringed inwardly. Count on her baby brother to give her trouble about this. About Johnny. As if she weren’t in enough trouble already.

      Jenn regained her seat on the sofa with a deep sigh, burying her face in her hands. Johnny sat down on an armchair opposite her, leaned his elbows on his legs, and waited.

      Jenn said nothing for the longest time. СКАЧАТЬ