Kathie DeNosky

In Bed with the Opposition


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      She shrugged one slender shoulder. “It’s not like I haven’t known about it for a while. The test results came back the week after Richard’s funeral.”

      That had been a little over a year ago, and Brad could tell she still struggled with the gravity of it all. Why wouldn’t she? To lose your husband and within days learn that you could never have a child? That had to be devastating.

      Not wanting to cause her further emotional pain by saying the wrong thing, he decided it would be best not to lend his support with words. He had already put his foot in his mouth once and wanted to avoid doing so again. Putting his arms around her and his sleeping niece, he simply stood there and held her.

      But the comforting gesture quickly reminded him of another time when he would have given anything to have her slender body pressed to his. They had just started high school, and over the summer between middle school and freshman year, he had developed more hormones than good sense. At fifteen, he had been more than ready to abandon their rivalry in favor of being able to call her his girlfriend.

      Unfortunately, Richard Langley had caught her attention about that time, and from then on it had been obvious that Abby and Richard were destined to be together. And it was just as well, Brad decided. She could push his buttons faster than any female he had ever met and have him grinding his teeth in two seconds flat. It had been that way back then and it was still, after all these years, that way now.

      “It would probably be a good idea if we head toward the assembly room,” she said, effectively ending his trip down memory lane. “It’s almost time for the meeting to be called to order.” Her tone was soft, but her voice was steadier than it had been earlier, and he knew she had regained the majority of her composure.

      Nodding, Brad released her and took a step back. He wasn’t sure what to say that wouldn’t make the moment more awkward than it already was. “I should have just enough time to get one of the staff to watch Sunnie before the speeches begin,” he finally said, checking his watch.

      “How long do you think she’ll nap?” Abby asked, walking over to carefully place the infant in the car-seat carrier. “If you think she’ll sleep through the speeches, I’ll watch her while you address the general membership.”

      Since Sunnie had come into his life, they had established a truce of sorts, but old habits died hard. He didn’t believe for a minute Abby was willingly helping him to win the office they both sought. But neither did he believe she would do something underhanded like wake the baby in the middle of his speech. In all of their years of competing against each other, neither of them had ever resorted to sabotage to come out on top.

      “You don’t mind?”

      “Not at all.” She put the baby wipes and powder back into the diaper bag. “But don’t think I’m doing it to help you with this election or that I won’t take great pleasure in beating the socks off of you when the results are announced at the Christmas Ball.”

      More comfortable with the return of the rivalry they’d shared for as long as he could remember, he smiled. “Of course not. You’re doing it for—”

      “Sunnie,” she said, picking up her purse and the diaper bag.

      Grinning, Brad took hold of the baby carrier’s handle, then put his hand to the small of Abby’s back to guide her toward the coat room door. “Ready to go in there and listen to the best wrap-up speech you’ve ever heard?”

      “In your dreams, Price,” she said, preceding him out the door and into the hall. “I know you’ve always been a windbag, but you would have to produce a Texas tornado to impress me.”

      Walking toward the assembly room, he laughed. “Then you had better prepare yourself, Ms. Langley, because you’re about to be blown away.”

      Seated at the table with all of the candidates running for the various club offices, Abby checked on Sunnie napping peacefully in the baby carrier on the chair between her and Brad. Satisfied the infant would sleep through at least the majority of the speeches, Abby looked around the assembly of Texas Cattleman’s Club members.

      Up until seven months ago, the TCC had been an exclusively male organization with no thoughts to making it open to women. But she had broken through the glass ceiling and become the first female member in the club’s long history.

      Unfortunately, the invitation to join had not been because of what she could bring to the club, but due to her last name. Founded by her late husband’s great-great-great grandfather, Tex Langley, over a hundred years ago, the TCC had always boasted a member of the Langley family in its ranks. But with Richard’s death a year ago, it had been the first time since the organization’s inception that a Langley had not been listed on the club’s membership roster. She had a little known bylaw requiring Langley representation within the club to thank for her admittance.

      She sighed, then squared her shoulders and sat up a little straighter. It didn’t matter what the reason was that had gained her membership in the TCC; she’d blazed a trail. Now she fully intended to see that other women were considered for entry into the prestigious ranks just as soon as she became the new club president. She couldn’t think of a more fitting way to open the new clubhouse she was sure the members were going to vote to build than to have a membership roster with the names of many of the women who had supported the Texas Cattleman’s Club throughout the years.

      When her name was announced as the next speaker, she checked on Sunnie one last time before walking up to the podium to outline her agenda. Looking out over the room, she could tell that the older members were less than pleased to have her in their ranks, let alone see her running for the high office. But that was just too bad. It was time they joined the twenty-first century and realized that a woman was just as capable of getting things accomplished as any man.

      After going over each point in her plan for the future of the TCC, she ended her speech with a mention of her pet project. “The building committee has hired an architect and presented his plans for a new clubhouse. It is my sincere hope that you vote to move forward with this project to build a new home for our club and the exciting new era we are entering into. In closing, I ask that you all consider what I’ve said here today and base your vote on what I can bring to the Texas Cattleman’s Club presidency, not on my gender or my last name. Thank you, and I look forward to serving as the next president of the Texas Cattleman’s Club.” As she walked back to the table to take her seat, she received a rousing ovation from some of the club’s newer members and a grudging nod of respect from a couple of the older ones.

      She was confident that she had done all she could do and represented the Langleys, as well as her gender, to the best of her ability. Now it would be up to the members to decide what direction they wanted the TCC to take when the actual voting took place tomorrow.

      “Top that, Price,” she said, throwing down a challenge to her lifelong rival.

      His hazel eyes twinkled as he rose to his feet and prepared to walk up to the front of the room. “Piece of cake, darlin’.”

      She wasn’t fooled by his use of the endearment. Like most Texas men, Bradford Price called all women “darlin’.” What she couldn’t understand was why it sent a tiny little shiver coursing throughout her body.

      Deciding it was best to ignore her reaction, she concentrated on Brad delivering his speech. She had to admit he was an engaging speaker and had a lot of good ideas—some of them paralleling her own. But that didn’t mean she was ready to concede.

      For as long as she could remember she and Brad Price had been pitted against each other in one competition or another. Sometimes he won, other times she came out on top. But the rivalry was ever present and at times quite fierce.

      Abby couldn’t help but smile as she remembered some of the contests they’d found themselves embroiled in. Their game of one-upsmanship had started in the first grade, when they worked to see who would be ranked higher on the honor roll at the end of each term. In middle school, they had competed to represent their class on the student council. By the time they reached high school,