It took all Judith’s restraint not to make a face at the suggestion. Yes, she’d asked around about cowboy artists, but once she’d returned home after speaking to some of them, she’d had to call for bathwater. It hadn’t even been that the men had been overly dirty or stank. They did hard work outside, after all. There’d simply been something so raw about the men that it had frightened her.
The men who worked her brother’s ranch had the same sense of power about them that Luke Hamblin’s men did. If she were to look closely at the cowhands in town, she was sure they’d have it as well. It made the sophisticated men back home seem weak, which wasn’t a comparison she was comfortable making.
Did all men have that raw edge about them? She saw it sometimes in Marshall, but her brother had managed to hold on to his finer qualities. Did the roughness of this life rub away at the refinement men wore like they did a finely tailored jacket? Was sophistication and elegance only an illusion? Once it was stripped from men, were they all like the cowhands? Surely not her brother.
Or Luke Hamblin.
“What do you think, Judith?” Maude asked.
She startled, as much from her uncomfortable ruminations as being pulled from them.
“I’m sorry,” Judith said. “I must have been woolgathering.”
“About anyone in particular?” Mary teased.
Judith flushed, looking down at her list. Why was she coloring like a schoolgirl over a man who’d called her his new sister? She refused to have feelings for Luke Hamblin.
“Don’t tease her.” Doris gave Judith’s hand a sympathetic pat.
“What did I miss?” she asked, all business.
“Edith says we ought to include the Christmas turkey shoot in our talent contest,” Maude said.
“It’s not a contest,” Judith argued.
“It’ll bring in the cowhands. If we’re going to feed them culture, we have to include a dish of something they enjoy. Men are competitive. Am I right?” Edith glanced around the table.
“Always listen to my sister,” Abe Vosburg said from the doorway.
Judith pursed her lips. The man knew this was aprivatemeeting. She’d chided him about peeking in more than once.
“Oh, come join us, sheriff,” Mary Teague said, waving him to the empty chair beside her. “We could use some input from a man.”
Judith was about to protest when her brother and Luke Hamblin came to stand beside the sheriff.
“They wantmyinput,” the older man said with a smug grin.
“Why don’t you all come in?” Maude asked.
Doris was already scooting over to make room for Marshall. He didn’t hesitate to grab a chair from the wall. That left the only other empty seat beside Judith.
“This is theLadies’Improvement Society,” she huffed, trying not to look at Luke as he sat.
“We’re not asking to join,” he said. “What is it you need masculine input on? You ladies have already shown yourselves to be queens of organization.”
“That’s all Judith,” Maude said. “She has an amazing memory for details.”
“What are you planning?” Marshall asked, looking ridiculously happy with his arm around Doris.
Judith shot a sidelong glance at Luke. What would it be like to have him put his arm around her? A powerful sense of longing hit her, making it impossible to speak. Then she noticed Edith watching, the corner of her mouth quirking up.
How humiliating. The woman was probably forty and seemed completely satisfied with being a spinster.
“Let me explain what we’d like to do,” Edith said, her expression now sympathetic.
Judith dropped her gaze to the table, forcing herself to take slow, deep breaths. What was wrong with her? It had begun with Maude’s marriage, followed a few weeks later by Doris’s. Judith had pushed her brother to pursue his interest in the sweet beauty. But never had Judith dreamed it would drive home what she could not have for herself.
* * *
