Chapter 44
When my mother steps inside The Cowherd an hour and a half later, I slam my laptop shut and shove the divorce papers underneath a dishtowel.
Mr. Bingley jumps up onto the bar, and as hard as I try to shoo him off the counter, he won’t budge. Figuring he’s decided to stand guard, I let him stay. My mother heads across the room and waves at me enthusiastically while two strange men trail in behind her.
Mama’s hair peeks out from underneath her “Jane Austen bonnet,” the red hat she always wears for auditions, and she has a bright green scarf tied loosely around her neck.
The two men—one with thick black-rimmed glasses, and a blond-haired younger guy—are wearing cowboy hats. As the one with glasses stops to look around the saloon for a moment, Mama pauses and looks with him.
“This place is hallowed ground,” he says in an awestruck tone as he scans the bar for a second time. “I can’t believe I made it here.”
Mama leads the two men up to the bar and they all take seats on the stools. She leans across the bar to give me a kiss, and I immediately wipe my cheek where I know her bright red lipstick’s left a mark. One reason I use chapstick. The Cowherd is dimly lit, but as usual, Mama keeps her shades on.
I reach for a wine glass and quickly start to fill it with our bar’s house red, Mama’s favorite.
I nod to the men with her. “Can I help y’all?”
“My name’s Skip,” the one with glasses says with an easy smile. “Skipper Scott, to be exact.”
“Macey Henwood. I don’t think I’ve seen you around before.”
“I’m a new reporter for the Darcy Gazette, but I’m also working remotely for the Dallas Sun’s editorial department. In fact, I came down here from Dallas because of the legend of Darcy.”
I’m immediately on guard. “You’re a reporter?” I shoot Mama a look, but she just smiles at me innocently. “And you asked specifically to cover this story?” I’m not buying this guy’s “awestruck” side for a second. He’s clearly here to uncover our town’s secrets so he can get a good story.
He drops the act when he says in a crisp business tone, “That’s right. This is just the place to start if I want to write the best story Texas has ever heard. And I will.” He flips back to his fanboy side then with a quick smile. “It’s my dream to cover this mystery.”
“Isn’t that fabulous?” Mama points to the Darcy Legend placard housed in the glass stand behind the bar. “If you’d like, you can read this: it’s a great summary of the legend. And though it’s not available to the public, we currently are holding the diary of…”
“Mrs. Vivian Elmstock Haskins,” Skip says breathlessly. “The perfect villain counterpart to our heroine, Ms. Jane Austen.”
“My Godfree.” Mama rests her hand on his arm, and I cringe as I watch her rev up her flirting routine with this newfound co-conspirator.
“I’m not used to someone else being so well-informed.
A lot of people around here don’t appreciate the legend, you know.
I’ve been collecting information and clues about it since Macey was a little girl. ”
“Your mother was telling me about the Make Your Match contest,” Skip says to me as he tilts his head in Mama’s direction.
“It’s more than a contest.” Mama’s hand appears to be permanently glued to Skip’s bicep.
“Mama, please.”
“What?” Mama says to me. “It’s about finding your love match, your Mr. Darcy or Eliza Bennet in real life, and not just in a romance novel. That’s why everyone in Darcy cares about the legend.”
“You mean they care about the tourist dollars the Jane Austen legend has brought to our town,” I say.
“Semantics.” Mama waves her hand. “But there is no denying our livelihood comes from the very bar Jane’s ghost frequents. I prefer to say frequents instead of haunts—I think it’s more respectful. Ghosts are living beings after all.”
Skip tips his dust-free, clearly never-been-used-before cowboy hat at me. “My colleague, Jon, and I…” He gestures to the eager young man to his left. “We understand you know several of the contestants quite well. Mr. Logan Wild, in particular, has been mentioned as being the real Mr. Darcy.”
“The contest hasn’t been decided yet or it wouldn’t be a contest,” I say. “My friend, Ginny, and her fiancé, Dave, are actually the local favorites.”
Skip cocks his head. “Is that so?”
“Yes,” I say.
“Well, even so, we’d be honored to get an interview with Mr. Wild.”
“He’s not here and I don’t know where he is. You’ll have to go to Wild Ranch to find him.”
“Okay,” Skip says smoothly. “But while I’m here, Ms. Henwood, I have a special request for you.”
“Macey,” I say.
“Macey,” he repeats. “With the Darcy Gazette’s Special Edition coming out this summer and my contributions being published in the reputable Dallas Sun, I’d be beyond thrilled to get a photograph of you and a few comments for our special persons page. You know, as the Lady on the Inside.”
“On the inside?”
“The inside of The Cowherd, the place where it will all take place,” Skip clarifies.
Jon turns his camera on me and starts snapping away.
“I don’t think so. I’m not the right woman for any interview.”
“I think you’re the perfect woman,” Skip says. “Your mama told me how much like Jane Austen you are—your dreams of being a novelist and your steadfast plan to stay independent and never marry. Well…” He raises one eyebrow. “To never marry again.”
I whip my head over to Mama. “How many details did you give him?”
“Not too many,” she says. She turns to Skip. “Wild Ranch is right across the way. Best to get going now.”
Skip tips his hat at me again. “I’m sure I’ll be seeing you again soon, Macey.”