Hand-Picked Husband

Not at Clay’s ranch, though. The Golden B was considerably larger than hers and could support a family.

Not that it mattered to her one way or the other.

Autumn ordered a large double mocha latte, then opened her packet from the Yellow Rose. She quickly scanned the names and became annoyed with herself when she realized she was looking for Clay’s.

What were these percentages? Autumn read the explanation, then the one-page bios.

The men sounded interesting. Nothing that pegged her zing meter, but she hadn’t seen them yet. Whom to call first?

Autumn found she was a little nervous, so she decided to call match number two so she could practice on him. George Garza had a grade, or rather “probability percentage”, of eighty-six percent. Number one was ninety-one percent.

Okay. Before she lost her nerve, Autumn used the public pay phone and called the message service, hoping George would suggest getting together. Soon.

FAX

To: Deb

From: Nel

They’re going to dinner tonight at

Jason’s on the River Walk! Chill the champagne!

Giddy with happiness, N.

FACSIMILE

To: Nellie Barnett, G B Ranch

From: Debra Reese, R. Ranch

Take the champagne out of the ice bucket. They’re going to dinner at Jason’s, but not with each other.

What happened?

D.

Autumn barely had time to make the hour-and-a-half round trip from her home back into San Antonio after work.

It turned out that George was a high school teacher and tonight was his only free night until Saturday. Since Autumn didn’t want to wait nearly a whole week, she agreed to dinner even though she would have preferred an activity of some sort.

George had suggested Jason’s, a River Walk restaurant popular with both tourists and locals. Clay’s family liked to celebrate birthdays there. It was a pricey restaurant. Since George was her second choice, Autumn felt guilty about the expense and resolved to pay for her own dinner.

She’d decided to wear her red suede jacket and denim skirt because it would be easy for George to spot her. Brown hair and brown eyes weren’t distinctive enough by themselves.

Autumn parked in a lot close to the River Walk a few minutes early because she’d driven faster than she should have. She chose to walk on the path down by the river rather than cutting through the shops and hotels that lined the banks.

The main portion of Jason’s was on a terrace with a great river view. There was also a downstairs level, then an outdoor bar that was on the river level. This was where she’d agreed to meet George. He’d promised to wear a yellow rose, which she thought was a little hokey but decided not to hold it against him.

Once the sun went down, the air rapidly turned cool, as it always did this time of year. The cantina two doors down featured a Mexican mariachi band, and Autumn leaned against the railing, enjoying the catchy music while she scanned the path for a man who might be George.

Lights twinkled on up and down the river. A river boat floated a load of tourists to the platform below the restaurant. Autumn hoped they weren’t planning to eat here. It was too chilly to eat outside, and with that many people the main dining room of the restaurant would be too noisy for conversation.

As she watched, hoping they’d disperse, a tall man cut through them, going against the flow. She liked the way he moved. She couldn’t be lucky enough for him to be George, could she? His face was obscured by his black cowboy hat, so she searched his lapel for a yellow rose.

There wasn’t one, and she gave a tiny sigh. Still, she watched him. When he reached the bottom of the steps leading to the restaurant bar, he looked up and Autumn found herself staring at his face.