The Sex Solution

“Come on, girls,” Cheryl Louise said. “Madeline needs to find a guy and our yapping isn’t going to help her concentrate.”

“So who wants her to concentrate?” Sarah asked. “Sorry, Madeline, but I want to win.”

“It’s just a game,” Cheryl Louise said, fingering the makeshift veil one of the girls had made for her. “A silly little game that’s supposed to be fun.”

“Girl, you say that because you’re about to trade in your bad-girl status and promise not to be bad, but there are those of us who’d like to keep our reputation.”

“You don’t have a reputation,” Cheryl Louise pointed out to Janice. “And you never had one. The only one who had anything remotely bad going for her was Sarah, and even she’s as boring as they come now. No offense, Sarah,” she said to the quiet redhead. “You’re just anxious to win so you don’t have to pick up Uncle Spur from the airport.”

“Uncle Spur’s coming to the wedding?” Madeline asked, her mind rushing back to her childhood and the ornery old man who’d come to visit Cheryl and Sharon every Christmas. He’d sat in the living room with his chewing tobacco and a soda can and offered an opinion on everything from making strawberry jam to the state of world politics. Uncle Spur had liked to talk. Even more, he’d liked being right.

“Of course he’s coming,” Cheryl Louise said. “He’s my oldest living relative. I couldn’t get married without Uncle Spur.” As though she just noticed the effect of her news, her eyes narrowed. “What’s wrong with Uncle Spur?”

“Nothing,” Madeline said. “It’s just…he’s quite a character.”

“An obnoxious character,” Brenda added.

“He spit on me the last time I saw him,” Janice said.

“He was just showing off,” Cheryl Louise explained. “He was the Waller County Spit-Off champ back then. But then the cataracts set in and he came in third to his two brothers. He never spits now. Besides, I would pick him up myself, but I don’t have time.”

“Don’t you worry about it,” Madeline told her. “One of us will do it.”

“Yep,” Janice said. “The loser gets the privilege.” She turned on Madeline. “Pick someone, or forfeit and let Sarah take her turn. She’s next in line with points if you don’t pull this off.”

But Madeline wasn’t forfeiting. It wasn’t so much about winning—while Uncle Spur wasn’t the most pleasant person, Madeline could endure a two-hour drive from the airport with him if it meant helping out a friend. Rather, this game was about conquering her fears and living life. About proving to all of her friends, and herself, that she truly had changed when she’d left the comfort of her small town for the excitement of the big city. About picking the hottest, hunkiest guy in the honky-tonk and approaching him as bold as you please.

Something the old Maddie would have been too frightened and embarrassed to do because she’d been more content to fantasize about life than actually live it.

No more.

She glanced around, found her target standing just inside the doorway and summoned her courage. Her moment of truth had finally arrived.

THIS WAS A BIG WASTE of time.

The truth echoed in Austin Jericho’s brain the minute he stepped inside Cherry Blossom Junction, the one and only dance hall in Cadillac, Texas.

Not that Austin had anything against dance halls, particularly this one. The place had character. Once a train depot near the turn of the century, Cherry Blossom Junction was far from the typical Texas honky-tonk. Beers were served up from behind the original hand-carved ticket counters. Instead of a mechanical bull, the very first engine to chug out of the station sat in the far corner. Train schedules graced the walls rather than the typical neon beer signs. And when the band cranked up the “Orange Blossom Special,” an authentic train whistle blew along with the music.

Nope, it sure-as-shootin’ wasn’t the place itself Austin had a problem with.

It’s just that if a man had set his mind to add more fruit to his diet, he certainly wouldn’t mosey over to the Dairy Freeze for a double-dipped. Likewise, if a gambler had decided to save his money rather than throw it away, he would damned sure stay far away from Pete, the numbers runner at the bingo hall.

Since Austin had decided to find himself a nice, quiet, conservative woman to settle down with him on his ranch, Cherry Blossom Junction was definitely at the bottom of his potential meet-market list. He needed to stick to church picnics and bake sales to find the kind of filly that would make him happy for the long haul, a goal he’d been working on for the past three weeks.

He’d narrowed it down to a handful of prospects—Debbie the kindergarten teacher, Christine the registered nurse at the retirement home, Angela the church choir director, Jennifer the head of the local Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals and Claire who ran the town’s only day care. They were all nice. Pretty. Wholesome. The trouble was, they all sort of blended together with their freshly baked apple pies and their show-me-the-ring-and-I’ll-show-you-some-lovin’ smiles, and he didn’t have a clue which one to choose.

But he’d given his word to Miss Marshalyn Simmons and he aimed to keep it. Miss Marshalyn had been the town’s librarian and expert cake baker for special events. She was also the most stubborn pigheaded woman ever to wag a finger at him and the closest thing to a mother he’d known since his own had passed away when he was five years old. He’d promised her that he would slow down and settle down in time for her going-away party—she was moving down to Florida to live with her sister. While the old woman wanted proof that he’d changed, she didn’t expect him to find and marry someone before she left. She merely wanted to see him with a serious, suitable candidate. In return, she’d pledged one hundred acres of prime pastureland.

While he was more than willing to buy the land, she’d refused to sell it to him. She wanted peace of mind, not money, and so she’d made him an offer he couldn’t refuse.

The land wasn’t the only reason for his decision. While he’d reached a brick wall in his professional life—he needed that land to expand and beef up his herd—he’d also hit a big one in his personal life. A man could only work so much. When the sun set and the day was done, he had to head home.

But Austin didn’t have a home. Sure, he had his own place, bought and paid for with his own sweat. But he didn’t have a home—a warm, comforting place filled with plenty of laughter and good smells and warmth. Miss Marshalyn’s house had had all three, and it had been the closest thing to a real home he’d known way back when.

He wanted his own now and a family to go with it, and that meant finding the right kind of woman. The kind who taught Sunday school and helped old ladies across the street. The kind who planted a vegetable garden and shelled peas and made candied sweet potatoes. The permanent kind who had more on her mind than one night.

All the more reason he should be anywhere but inside Cherry Blossom Junction.

“Hey, buddy. Over here!” The familiar voice drew Austin’s attention.

His gaze shifted to the group of men clustered at the bar. Stetsons bobbed as heads turned and hands waved.

Austin couldn’t help but grin at the group, particularly the cowboy wearing a foam ball and chain around his neck and a Kiss Me I’m The Groom button.

Jack Beckham was one of Austin’s oldest friends and he was tying the knot tomorrow afternoon. Austin couldn’t very well miss giving his buddy a grand send-off just because he was on a time limit to find himself a suitable wife.

“You’re the last person I expected to see here. Shouldn’t you be cruising the bingo hall right now?”

Austin turned to see his younger brother grinning back at him, a buxom blonde hanging on his arm.

“It’s for a good cause. Besides, it’s seniors’ night and I’m looking for a woman a few years younger. I’m guessing you’re not taking Miss Marshalyn up on her offer?”

Houston Jericho, Austin’s middle brother and one of the best damned bull riders on the pro rodeo circuit, winked and pulled the blonde closer. “’Fraid not. I’m in no hurry to slow down and rope cows from now till kingdom come. That’s your dream, bro.”

“A man’s got to grow up sometime.”

Miss Marshalyn had made the same proposition to Houston when he’d surprised everybody and driven into town yesterday morning.

He’d been busy hitting every major rodeo in the United States, working his way up to the pro rodeo finals in Las Vegas in a few weeks. No one had expected him to take time off between rides to attend the wedding. But Houston and Jack went way back, as well. The man had been one of the few friends to all three Jericho brothers when they’d been kids.

And so Houston had come home.

But not to settle down, as he’d been quick to point out to Miss Marshalyn. Houston liked his life minus any roots. He was free, going where he wanted, when he wanted, and he intended to stay that way.

“I’ll leave the growing old to you,” he told his brother as he sipped a beer with his free hand.

“That’s growing up.”

“Same thing.” Houston winked. “I’ve got more bulls to ride, and at least one woman I haven’t had the pleasure of getting to know better.” He winked at the woman on his arm. “Ain’t that right, sugar?” He gave the blonde a quick kiss. “Besides, I like things just fine the way they are. Moving away from this place was the best thing I ever did.”

“You mean running away, don’t you?”

“I don’t run from anyone or anything,” he drawled, then turned and steered the blonde toward the dance floor. “Later, bro.”

Austin stared after Houston. He was running, all right. From the past. From the legacy that had haunted all three of the Jericho brothers since birth. Dallas, the youngest, had made peace with his past last year when he’d married his childhood sweetheart. He and his wife were expecting their first child, and they were happy. Content.

Austin wanted the same.