The Swinging R Ranch: The Swinging R Ranch / Whose Line Is It Anyway?. Debbi RawlinsЧитать онлайн книгу.
it all off, she was late for her speech. Folks wouldn’t like that. They went to bed early in Bingo.
Quickly she checked her teeth and was about to turn away from the mirror when the stray tendril Max had touched caught her eye. It fell in a loose flattering curl on her cheek. When she turned slightly, golden highlights captured the light.
She did look nice tonight. At least better than usual. Certainly not on a par with Max’s standard, but nice. It annoyed the heck out of her that she gave a single hoot what Max thought, but there it was. His compliment had made her pulse speed and her heart had fluttered like a trapped butterfly.
Good thing she could at least maintain perspective. Guys like him didn’t go for girls like her. And the truth was, she wouldn’t be happy with someone like him. Not for the long haul, anyway. Of course she didn’t really know him, but she had some college experience with men like him. Good-looking, used to getting their way, never having to carry their fair share of the load because some poor smitten sap was willing to do it for them.
She straightened, feeling better about putting life back into perspective. Sure, she was still late, but she wasn’t feeling so rattled anymore.
As soon as she left the rest room, she heard the disgruntled murmuring of the crowd, and she hurried toward the podium. Halfway there she saw Gramms trying to get her attention, and all her newfound composure dissolved like a puddle of melted chocolate.
Abby had never been more glad to see her and she waited, in spite of the nosy looks and whispers, as Gramms got closer. Her familiar lilac scent reached Abby first, comforting her, making her feel a little emotional. Lack of sleep always made her a little sappy.
“You look beautiful,” Gramms whispered as she kissed Abby’s cheek.
“Where have you been? I was worried.” Abby ushered her away from straining ears to a spot near a deserted table.
“Mona couldn’t decide what to wear, and Candy misplaced Tami for an hour so we got here late. I’m sorry, honey. But surely you knew I’d come.”
“Mona and Candy are here with you.” Abby scanned the room without success. In fact, she couldn’t see Max either.
“Of course. So are Rosie and Herb and Max. He’s such a nice young man, don’t you think?”
Abby made a face. “Why are they all here?”
“To support you, of course.”
“Even after I threatened to shut them down?”
Gramms’s lips curved in a patient smile. “They know you didn’t mean it.”
“The place is a firetrap,” Abby murmured. “And it’s a wonder no one has broken a leg on those front steps.”
“Abigail.” The warning in her grandmother’s face and voice should have subdued Abby.
“If I’m mayor it’ll be my duty to review the condition of all public property. It’s nothing personal.”
“The Swinging R isn’t public property, young lady, you’re just being stubborn and manipulative.”
Abby gasped. “Gramms, I can’t believe you’re accusing me of being manipulative. Stubborn, I can see.”
Several heads turned, and Gramms said in a lowered voice, “Promise me you’ll leave the Swinging R out of our dispute.”
“Dispute? We’re not having a dispute. It’s just a tiny misunderstanding. Come home tomorrow and everything will be back to normal.”
Gramms sadly shook her head.
From the podium, Trish tested the microphone with an earsplitting gum pop.
Torn between saving potential constituents from Trish and pleading with Gramms, Abby looked from one woman to the other. The decision was made for her when Gramms kissed her cheek, wished her good luck, then headed toward the back of the room.
“ABBY SEEMS NERVOUS,” Mona commented to Estelle and Max. “That isn’t like her.”
Max studied Abby’s body language. Even sitting way back in the armpit of the room he could see Mona was right. He hoped he hadn’t said anything to upset Abby. He laughed at himself, thinking about how she would react to that notion. She’d say he was giving himself too much credit again.
“I’m afraid that has something to do with me,” Estelle said, sighing. “I hope I’m doing the right thing.”
To his disgust, Max’s curiosity was piqued, and he looked at Estelle, hoping she’d explain. Not that this crazy nosiness was new. After all, here he was at a sad excuse for a fund-raiser, sitting in the far corner with four older women, only one of whom, he suspected, didn’t have her receiver off the hook.
“Maybe we should sit up closer,” Mona said. “Being able to see you might comfort her.”
Max shuddered at the thought. He liked sitting back here in the semidarkness where he didn’t have too good a view of the ladies’ dresses, especially Mona’s. The plunging neckline and short tight red silk skirt were almost indecent. Well, not on a twenty or thirty-something, but on someone old enough to be his grandmother?
He glanced around the room, grateful that the rest of the audience sat in front of them and hadn’t seemed to notice.
“Weren’t you listening to Estelle?” Across the table, Rosie stopped fanning herself and frowned at Mona. “If Estelle thinks she’s the one who’s upset Abby, why in the hell would she sit in clear view and upset her some more?”
“Was I talking to you?” Mona angled her face away from Rosie, and in a loud whisper to Estelle said, “Guess she remembered her hearing aid.”
“You’re the one who needs a hearing aid. You obviously weren’t listening to Estelle.” Rosie lifted her chin, faced the podium again and resumed her fanning.
There had been an argument over who got to wear the last pair of black lace garters. Apparently, they hadn’t reached an amicable agreement.
“Ladies, I think Abby is about to start speaking,” Max said quietly, and received three conciliatory smiles.
Candy hadn’t bothered to enter the conversation at all, or even look at him. He figured she was still ticked at him for making her tie Tami to a pole in the garage. Tough. Just thinking about the critter gave him the willies, especially after today’s episode of hide-and-seek. No way that thing was sleeping in the same house with him.
The tall thin blonde who’d been with Abby earlier seemed to be having trouble with the microphone. She called a man from the audience up to the podium to help, while Abby stood aside and fidgeted with a small stack of index cards.
“Oh, dear, she is nervous,” Estelle whispered, leaning toward him. “She normally doesn’t need notes to speak.”
Max patted her hand. He liked Estelle, and frankly couldn’t figure out why she wanted to hang out at the Swinging R. The rest of the ladies had their good sides, too, but the place was definitely bordering on becoming a loony bin.
“If she’s prepared notes, then it must mean she was nervous before this evening and it has nothing to do with you.” He watched Estelle’s expression sag, and wondered again why the devil he was sitting here, and why he cared about what happened to Abby and her quest for public office.
Maybe it was his advancing age prompting his interest, like women who followed soap operas for half a lifetime, or retired men who sat around diners and barbershops retelling old war stories. God, the thought was depressing.
His gaze drew to Abby. More likely it was because she’d gotten under his skin, made him wonder about her, and what made her tick. He’d been disappointed when she hadn’t stayed for dinner, even though he’d hardly expected her to after he suggested she butt out of her grandmother’s business just as he intended to do.
“I’m