HEATHER MACALLISTER

Hand-Picked Husband


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turned to face him. “Do you feel as bad as you look?”

      Clay grimaced and ran a hand over his jaw. He’d missed a few spots shaving. “Probably.”

      “Then maybe I’d better call an ambulance.”

      “Not unless I’ve eaten some of your cooking.”

      She eyed him. “You are tired if you’re falling back on cooking insults.”

      “Haven’t seen you much lately. Guess I’m out of practice.” He smiled crookedly and drew his hands up to his waist. “How are you and your mom getting along?”

      Autumn automatically scanned the room until she found her mother and her group of friends. Debra was smiling as she talked. “She’s a lot better. This was the second Christmas since Dad died and it was definitely easier than last year.”

      “I miss your dad,” Clay said. “A lot of people do.”

      “Yeah.” Autumn turned until she faced the signup tables again. She still got misty-eyed when thinking about her father and didn’t want Clay to see.

      “So...are you planning to go back to law school any time soon?”

      Good question. The longer she was out of school, the less enthusiastic she felt about going back. “Maybe this summer,” she answered just as they reached Jackie Dutton at the table.

      “Hey, Autumn...Clay. Let me find your packet.”

      Before Autumn could stop her, Jackie went to the B section and pulled out Clay’s packet.

      “Oh, would you look at this?” Shaking her head, she uncapped a pen. “They left Autumn’s name off the list. I am sorry. I can’t imagine how that happened.”

      “Because I’m not with Clay’s group,” Autumn told her when it was obvious Clay wasn’t going to.

      “You’re not with High on the Hog?” Jackie looked mcredulous.

      “She’s going to wish she was.” Clay took his packet and winked at Autumn.

      “I’m with Hogs and Kisses,” Autumn said.

      “But...” Jackie looked from one to the other.

      “You two aren’t on the same committee?”

      The streaked-blond woman next to Jackie leaned over. “What’s the problem?”

      “Clay and Autumn are on different committees.”

      “Computers.” The blonde rolled her eyes. “You just can’t trust them.”

      “It’s okay.” Autumn forced herself to smile. “We didn’t sign up to be on the same committee.”

      Both women’s eyes widened. “Why not?” they asked in unison.

      Autumn gritted her teeth. Because we’re not a couple, we’ve never been a couple, and we’re never going to be a couple. Can’t you people get it through your heads?

      “Because this year, it’s the girls against the guys,” Clay said with an easy smile. “The High on the Hog men against the Hogs and Kisses ladies. Now, if this is everything I need, then I guess I’ll see y’all later.” He nodded his head and strode off.

      Autumn resented the fact that he’d come up with an answer that did nothing to squash the persistent belief that he and Autumn were eventually going to get married.

      Jackie sighed after Clay. “There goes one good-looking man.”

      “His eyes are bloodshot.”

      “But there’s nothing wrong with his backside. And that is one fine—” Jackie broke off and blinked. “You are so lucky, Autumn.”

      Autumn drew a deep breath. “Clay and I aren’t dating.”

      “Well, of course not.” Jackie handed Autumn her packet. “Why would you two need to date?”

      Autumn gave up, took her packet and went to find her mother.

      Mistake. It was obvious that her mother and friends had been watching Clay and Autumn as they stood in line. Autumn greeted them and steeled herself for the inevitable.

      “Autumn, your mom told us that you and Clay haven’t set a date yet.” A silver-haired woman with turquoise earrings smiled expectantly.

      People had stopped being subtle. “We aren’t going to set a date.”

      Several pairs of eyes widened. “You’re not eloping!”

      “Clay and I aren’t engaged.”

      “Well, not officially,” Debra said, patting Autumn’s arm.

      Not even for her mother would Autumn maintain the fiction. “Not in any way.”

      “So you’re going to wait until after you finish your schooling. Very wise,” the silver-haired woman said.

      There was a general nodding of heads, then everyone got sappy smiles on their faces and Autumn knew Clay was in the vicinity.

      Go away, she thought.

      Wonder of wonders, he passed by without speaking to her. But then she had to endure the curious looks. Holding up her packet, she explained, “We’ve got a bet going on who can raise the most money. Now, how much can I put you down for, Mr. Perry?”

      

      FACSIMILE

      To: Nellie Barnett, Golden B Ranch

      From: Debra Reese, Reese Ranch

      Nellie, dear, were you aware that Autumn and Clay are not on the same committee? From what she said, I don’t think he asked her. She hasn’t mentioned the Buyers’ Ball. Even though I know Clay will take her, it would be nice if he observed the proprieties and asked her. We don’t want any misunderstandings.

      Deb

      

      FAX

      To: Debra Reese, R. Ranch

      From: Nellie Barnett, Golden B

      Debra, dearest, Clay couldn’t very well ask Autumn to be on his committee when she’d already formed her own. And by the way, she could have asked him to be on hers.

      Nel

      During the next two weeks, Autumn and her committee contacted the businesses of San Antonio. So did Clay. He got larger donations but not as many. Autumn’s strategy was to go for more modest amounts from smaller companies, like local beauty parlors and dress shops, but that meant she had to sign up more of them.

      “Mom, I think we’ve asked every business in San Antonio,” Autumn groaned. “And Clay’s group is still ahead.” She leafed through the newspaper at breakfast on the Saturday they were due to meet for a progress report. Maybe there was someplace they’d missed.

      Debra looked up from the section of paper she was reading. “Autumn., have you considered... maybe not trying so hard to beat Clay?”

      Autumn nearly gagged on her coffee. “Are you saying I should let him win?”

      “No! Not let him win.” Debra looked away. “Just don’t beat him.”

      Which was the same thing. “Forget it.”

      “A man has his pride.”

      “And what have I got?”

      Debra raised an eyebrow. “Not a man, at this point.”

      Autumn raised the paper. “So?”

      There was a sigh. “Autumn, you don’t encourage him at all. Anybody but Clay would think you weren’t interested in him. Even though you have an understanding, you shouldn’t take him for granted.”

      It would do no good to tell her mother that