A Bachelor Falls Read online

  “Over here, Ellie. Ross.” Reverend Minks was manning the temporary cleanup area. He had a bucket of water and a hose attached to the fire truck out in the parking area. His pant legs were rolled up, but he still had on his clerical collar and was all set up to wash off whipped cream, Jell-0 or whatever other substances the bachelors had collected on their race to the falls. Fun was well and good, but the environment had to be protected and Reverend Minks was just the man for the job.

  “Turn to your left,” he instructed, and Ross obediently turned, letting himself be hosed clean. “Lift your right foot. Now your left. Now both feet at once. Ha, ha, just a little holy humor. Ellie, your turn.”

  She had already removed the football pads, but she hitched up the pants as she stepped up. Cold water from the hose poured across her legs and she shivered with the exhilarating tingle.

  “Are you going to jump, Ellie?” Reverend Minks asked.

  “She’s got to make a stab at pushing me off, first.” Ross stood nearby, bare-chested and wet from head to toe. Ellie was pretty sure if she got close enough to give him a push, she’d find herself trying to imitate Belinda and put a lip lock on him. “It’s her duty as the best man to make an effort to get me in the falls and save me from impending matrimony.”

  “She may try,” Reverend Minks said with his benign smile. “But I bet she won’t succeed, will she? After all, it might be—” He leaned forward, lowering his voice to a teasing whisper. “—bad luck for you to get pushed into the falls on the day before your wedding,”

  “You don’t put any faith in that legend, do you, Reverend?” Ellie asked, stamping her feet to get some circulation going. “I know you must have married at least a few bachelors who took a nosedive into the water on Falls Day and got married before the year was out.”

  “One or two.” Reverend Minks moved the hose back to the bucket and Ellie decided the cold was preferable to the heat she felt just looking at Ross in his swimming trunks. “I’ve always been of the opinion,” the Reverend continued, “that those the Lord intends to be together, won’t be kept apart by anything as unimportant as legends or bad luck or misunderstandings. He does have His mysterious ways, you know.” He leaned close to whisper in her ear. “Give Ross a good, hard shove. Just between you, me and the Almighty, I think a dunking might clear his head.” Smiling, he turned to the next survivor of the race. “Step right over here, young man....”

  Ross grinned when Ellie came up beside him at the sign that read, Point Of No Return. Jump Or Get Yourself Hitched. “Guess it’s you and me against the legend, Eliot.”

  “I thought it was me against you.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “Never that. No matter what, it’ll always be us against them.”

  “It,” she corrected. “The legend is an it.”

  “Hey, Kilgannon, save yourself, man! Jump!” From the viewing area on the other side of the falls, Travis, Tami, Carla and Bobby Joe were watching the jumps. The falls weren’t high, but the pool was deep and the jump-off point was no higher than a regular diving board, which made for some spectacular belly flops.

  Ross cupped his hands around his mouth and yelled across the whoops and hollers in the pool. “I’m not jumping. Ellie’s going to have to push me...if she can.”

  “Go, Ellie!” The guys yelled and slugged the air with their fists.

  “Don’t do it, Ellie,” Tami and Carla countered, laughing. “It’s a trick!”

  “Well, Eliot? What are you waiting for?” Ross held his arms out, giving her a solid expanse of lightly furred chest to push against. He stood there, grinning, waiting for her to make a move.

  There was absolutely no truth to the legend. Ellie knew tomorrow’s wedding wouldn’t be called off because Ross went over the falls. On the other hand, if there was even a glimmer of truth to it... She took a step toward him and he feinted side to side, like a boxer in the ring, so she stopped. “Stand still,” she said.

  “Now, Eliot, that wouldn’t be fair. Come on, you can take me. Have confidence. Repeat after me...I think I can, I think I can.”

  “You’re toast, Kilgannon. Prepare to die.” She faked a lunge to the left, and quickly counter-pushed to the right, missing him by a mile.

  “Go, Ellie!” Tami yelled out. “Grab that boy and get him away from the water!”

  “Push him!” Bobby Joe hollered. “Send him flying over the edge!”

  Travis sang out, “Missed him, missed him, now you’ve gotta kiss him!”

  Ross’s grin grew by leaps and bounds. “Think you can get a lip lock on me before I get past you?”

  “That would be cheating.” She lunged, her palms making contact with his chest. But he was ready for her and easily held his ground. Beneath her hands, she felt the rapid thud of his heartbeat and she felt her own heart pounding, hard and fast. Her eyes lifted to his and, for a moment, she wondered what would happen if she did try the lip lock. The idea zipped through her veins with more zest than she needed to acknowledge. Dropping her hands to her sides, she stepped back to consider her strategy.

  “Giving up, already?” he taunted. “You didn’t put up much of a fight, Ellie. You must want to be my best man very badly.”

  She wasn’t a man, damn it, and maybe it was time she used that fact to her advantage. Reaching for the hem of the football jersey, Ellie jerked it upward, faking a Belinda-style flash.

  “Ellie!” Ross protested and grabbed for the shirt.

  And that’s when she rushed him, putting all her weight behind the push of her outstretched hands.

  It was a moment that would live forever in the annals of Bachelor Falls history. The moment Ross Kilgannon went over the falls...and took his best man with him.

  Chapter Twelve

  Ellie turned, checking her image in the mirror for probably the hundredth time in twenty minutes. She seldom wore a dress, and when she did, she had to keep checking to make sure it wasn’t hitched up in the wrong places, that it still draped where it was supposed to drape and covered where it was supposed to cover. Not that this dress had much drape...or coverage. It curved where she curved, and flared where she flared and showed a lot more of her than normally showed. When she’d bought it, Kelly had assured her it was as flattering as hell. Which was the reason it had been hanging in the back of her closet ever since.

  Ellie sighed. Maybe she wasn’t cut out for seduction. And seduction was what all her plans had fizzled down to. There hadn’t been five minutes during the day to talk seriously to Ross about Tori. There hadn’t been a minute when the opportunity and the mood meshed. And there had been several times when she wondered if she had any right to say anything at all. Ross had driven Hot Rod in the morning parade, all shiny and gleaming in her new candy apple red coat. Tori had been beside him, waving like a queen to her subjects...and Ellie had stood by and watched the Chevy...and Ross...pass her by. It had been all she could do not to rush out, snatch the keys from the ignition and order Tori out of her car. But it wasn’t hers. She’d given it to Ross. And she was glad...she’d just wanted to be the one riding in it with him.

  And tonight she was going to tell him that. She was going to be honest and open about her feelings and try to convince him that she wasn’t the best man, but the woman he wanted. Or at least the one he ought to want. That’s where the little black dress was supposed to come in. Sort of warn him right at the start that something was different about her.

  But what if he didn’t notice?

  Ellie turned for another check. The dress still clung smoothly to her hips, still felt ridiculously insubstantial. Which was good, she thought. She’d be so busy checking her butt in every shop window, she wouldn’t have time to wonder if she was doing the right thing.

  “He doesn’t want to marry Tori,” she assured her reflection. “He doesn’t.” But the only way she knew to convince him of that was to startle him out of his infatuation. There wasn’t time for anything more circumspect. This time tomorrow, it would be too late. So this was the bargain. She�
��d pit her hope of happiness against the idea that he was already falling out of love. She would wager their friendship against his infatuation and pray that, if she were wrong, he would forgive her. Someday.

  With one last glance at her backside, she gathered her courage and headed for town.

  HIS JAW DROPPED when he saw her.

  Ross had just ordered a lemonade when he looked up and realized the sleek, sexy body in the little black dress, the body he’d been admiring in brief glimpses across the town square, belonged to Ellie. He’d always known she had a nice figure, but he had had no idea she could look like that.

  “Ross?” From inside the refreshment booth, Mabel handed him a lemonade. “You better drink that quick. You look like you just got whopped with a water balloon. ’Cept, of course, you ain’t wet.”

  Ross grabbed the glass from her hand and drank the lemonade in one long swallow. Damn, he thought. What in hell was Ellie doing in that dress?

  “You must be thirsty,” Mabel said, taking the glass back. “I’ll fix you another lemonade.”

  Ross didn’t want another lemonade. He didn’t want to be standing by the lemonade booth, watching an Ellie he barely recognized come toward him. She walked differently in a dress, he thought inanely. The dress was certainly formfitting. And she certainly had a form worth fitting. And she had no business moving her hips like that. The Bachelor Daze Dance was, after all, a family event. Ross tried to force his gaze away from that seductive walk as she came closer.

  Unfortunately he couldn’t seem to tear his eyes from her. Only the fact that she stopped to talk to Lana and her new husband, Blake, saved Ross from making a complete fool of himself by ripping a tablecloth off the nearest table and draping it around her.

  Fifties’ music was blasting over the loudspeakers and several couples were dancing in the street to a rowdy version of “Rock Around the Clock.” Ross felt out of place, out of time. Ellie was throwing him curves, faster than he could catch them. One minute she was the same old Ellie, laughing, teasing, fun. The next minute she was someone else altogether. Someone he didn’t know at all, except by heart.

  He gulped when she turned in his direction again. Her hair was long, loose, not confined in any way... a direct contrast to the way the little black dress fit her. No, he wasn’t going to think about the way she looked in that dress. Or the way she walked. Or the way her hair... No, no, no. This was Ellie. His friend. But the closer she got, the more he thought about the dress...the walk...the hair....

  “Hi,” she said brightly. Too brightly. “Where’s Tori?”

  Ross noticed the slight wince, as if she hadn’t wanted to mention Tori at all. “The bridesmaids took her over to Branson to see a show. It’s her official bachelorette party.”

  Ellie nodded, looked nervous. He wondered if he looked nervous, too. “The last time I saw you in a dress, Eliot, you were on your way to seduce some unsuspecting fraternity man.” His knees went a little weak at the memory and he told himself that seduction could not be what she had in mind tonight. Not that it was any of his business, of course.

  She stepped closer, right up to the counter, right next to him...and his throat went unaccountably dry. He tried not to notice the full curve of her breasts just below the dress’s neckline. He especially tried not to observe the beautiful line of her back as she leaned in, looking for someone to fill her drink request. “Didn’t I see Mabel here just a second ago?”

  “Yes.” One syllable squeaked into two and Ross made a conscious effort to lower his voice. “She should be back any minute now.”

  Ellie frowned up at him, her wild mane of hair draping like silk across one shoulder. “You’re not catching a cold, are you? Your voice sounds kind of thick.”

  “Allergies,” he said promptly, making a production of clearing his throat before he repeated the explanation. “Allergies.”

  “Oh.” Then she turned her head and her hair showered down across her back and his throat went dry all over again. “Mabel?” she called. “Could I have something to drink?”

  Mabel hustled back. “Sure can. This is for Ross, but I’ll be back with one for you in just a sec.”

  Ellie cleared her throat, as if huskiness was contagious. “Do you have any wine?”

  Wine? Ross wondered. “I didn’t know you liked wine.”

  Sexy was all over the slight curve of her mouth and layered like cream through the smoky nuances of her voice. “Maybe you don’t know me as well as you think you do, Dr. Kilgannon.”

  He was damn near certain of it. “Maybe you ought to just tell me what you’re trying to pull, Eliot, so I can tell you what a bad idea it is.”

  She blushed, took the wineglass Mabel handed to her, and downed two ounces of Merlot in one gulp. “What makes you think I’m up to something?”

  He crossed his arms over his navy Polo shirt. “For one thing, slamming back shots of Merlot can only mean you’re drinking for courage, not pleasure.” She looked at the empty wineglass, obviously unable to refute that particular bit of evidence. “And for another thing, you don’t dress like this unless you have an agenda.”

  She glanced down at the dress, and looked guilty. But when she raised her chin and her coffee brown eyes met his, he decided the look might not have been guilt at all. He was imagining all sorts of things at this very minute and the guilt might very well be all on his end.

  “So if I dress up and drink wine, then it logically follows that I have an agenda that’s a bad idea? Hmm.” She considered that with a tilt of her head. “When Tori puts on a dress and drinks wine, does she have an agenda?”

  “No. Yes. We’re not talking about Tori.”

  “Well, maybe it’s time we—” A glimmer of panic flashed across her expression. “—had another drink. Mabel? Hit me again!”

  Mabel narrowed her eyes. “Now what are you up to, Ellie? I ain’t never seen you drink wine before.”

  Ross appreciated the support of his theory. Ellie apparently didn’t.

  “I’m thirsty. Okay?” She stubbornly held out the empty glass and Mabel just as stubbornly refused to fill it.

  “Then I’ll get you some lemonade,” the older woman said and went off to do so.

  Ross tried not to look at her with an I-told-you-so expression, but she didn’t even glance at him. Just crossed her arms under the bustline of the little black dress and leaned back against the booth beside him. “If you were any kind of a gentleman, Ross, you’d get me a glass of wine.”

  “If I were any kind of a friend, I’d take you home before you do something you’ll regret later.”

  She gave him a hesitant little half smile. “How do you know I’d regret it?”

  “I’m just going on past experience, Ellie. You’ve got that look.”

  “The look that says if I don’t do this, I’m going to regret it for the rest of my life?” Her voice was so still, he had to lean forward to catch her words. “Or is it the look that says, if I do this, at least I’ll have done one thing in my life worthy of regret?”

  The night breeze lifted a strand of her hair and blew it soft against his mouth and when she turned her face toward him, he lost his heart. All of it. In an instant. In that one look. In that one wistful, regretful, hopeful look, he suddenly understood all the ambivalence of the past few days. All the stress, all the tension, all the reasons he’d wanted to be with Ellie and not his soon-to-be bride. He was in love with Ellie. He must have always been. T. S. Eliot Kidgannon has a nice ring to it, he’d said only a few days before. No wonder it had sounded so natural and right. He wanted to share his name with her, just as he’d shared everything else these past many years.

  Mabel came back with the lemonade. He took it right out of her hand and chugged it down, excitement and panic and desire urging him to take action, to stop and think, to ask Ellie if maybe she loved him, too. He slapped the empty glass on the counter again. “Bring us two glasses of wine, Mabel,” he said fast, then reconsidered. “Hell, just bring the whole bottle.”
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br />   Mabel looked at him as if he’d suddenly declared war on Nova Scotia. “What?” he said defensively. “I’m thirsty.”

  Ellie’s glance was startled, but wary. “Did you have a sudden change of agenda, Ross?”

  Plans were forming like summer showers in his brain. He considered and discarded them like a musician seeking the right sequence of notes. “I want to dance. Let’s go.”

  “I thought you wanted wine. I thought you were thirsty.”

  “We’ll come back for it,” he said. “Right now we’re going to dance.”

  Ellie hesitated. “You want to dance with me?”

  “Yes,” he answered as firmly as possible over the terrible, thudding beat of his heart. “Yes. You.”

  “Oh,” she said, and he reached for her hand before she could refuse.

  Ellie’s fingers trembled against his palm and it was all he could do not to kiss her then and there. A real kiss. Not an accident in the dark. But a kiss they could build a future on. A kiss worthy of their long friendship. A kiss that would mark the moment they crossed over from that friendship to so much more. A kiss he didn’t want to share with half the population of Bachelor Falls.

  “Where are we going?” Ellie asked, her voice sounding still and uncertain and wary. Very wary. “The street dance is happening over there.”

  “We don’t want to dance.”

  “We don’t? I thought we did.”

  “You thought wrong.” He shook his head and changed direction when he saw Brad Elston and Belinda Morgan in their path.

  “Ross,” Belinda said, “Brad and I want to—”

  Ross stepped up the pace and pulled Ellie into an abrupt right turn, avoiding whatever it was Belinda and Brad wanted.

  “She could have had something important to say,” Ellie pointed out.

  “She didn’t.” Ross realized they were only a block away from the garage and the length of his stride increased eagerly. Ellie broke into a semi-jog to keep up and he automatically slowed down. “Sorry,” he said. “Guess I’m in something of a hurry.”