Chapter 34
Macey
“What in heaven’s name?!”
I jump at Eloise’s high-pitched shriek. She puts down her phone and heads for the television in the corner of the salon.
“My Mickey just texted that Darcy’s on the news!” she says. “Channel five.”
As she hits the remote, I glance up at the TV screen.
“Oh, my gosh.” I widen my eyes at the image of a reporter standing inside The Cowherd Whiskey Saloon.
“A big day in little Darcy, Texas today,” the reporter says into the microphone as he stands next to the bar. “We’ve learned who the soul mates are who will save the legendary ghost of Jane Austen from eternal imprisonment in The Cowherd Whiskey Saloon & Chapel.”
“What is he talking about? What soul mates?” I say to Ginny, who shrugs.
George is holding up a drink in the background. I look more closely. Whiskey and grape juice.
“That’s a Loganiskey,” I say to Ginny. “Logan must be there.”
Then I see him. Leaning against the bar, Logan reaches out and takes the drink from George. His profile is stern and his jaw is clenched.
“Logan looks upset,” I murmur.
“Is his fiancée with him?” Ginny steps closer to the television. “All I see are your parents. Oh, wait—Logan’s brothers are there. And Blake, who’s clearly up to something. Look at how much he’s smirking in the background!”
I shift my gaze past Logan. Ginny’s right—Blake looks like he’s in on some joke. And Reid’s grinning next to him.
The reporter beams. “You heard it here first on Channel Five News. The soul mates of Darcy, Texas, revealed for the very first time ever, are—Logan Wild and Gigi Phillips!”
I let out a strangled squeak.
“Are you okay?” Ginny asks me in a worried tone.
“Fine.” I suck in a breath of air and keep staring at the TV.
“This amazing news comes straight from the owner of The Cowherd himself—Mr. Benjamin Henwood,” the reporter says with a broad smile. “Congratulations to the happy couple, your new Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth Bennet! They’ll be marrying this July fourth at The Cowherd.”
“No, this is not happening.” And I thought things couldn’t get worse.
“You have got to be freaking joking.” Ginny clutches my arm. “Macey, this is unsettling.”
Well, my family is unsettling. And when you’ve got that as your foundation, not too much can really be a surprise.
Except, I have to admit that this—this—is a surprise.
“Logan and his fiancée just met, and they’re already getting married?” Ginny says in my ear. “And on your birthday? He literally barely knows her!”
I stand speechless and keep staring at the television. If it’s possible, Logan looks as shell-shocked as I feel. His mouth is fixed in a straight line, and he’s gripping his glass of Loganiskey so tightly I’m surprised it hasn’t shattered.
“Logan is from Darcy, and he met Gigi out in West Texas where the lucky girl was traveling with her father, Clint Phillips, the wealthy oilman from Manhattan,” the reporter gushes.
“Wealthy oilman!” Ginny says. “So she’s rich?”
I think I’m going to throw up.
“Mr. Darcy is a bit of a renegade,” the reporter drones on. “A rebellious cowboy who never planned to settle down. Although I’m hearing rumors of a prior marriage that didn’t last. But I guess when you meet the right woman, everything changes!”
My heart drops into my stomach.
The camera zooms in on Logan as the reporter taps him on the shoulder. “Mr. Wild. How do you feel about being the savior of the legendary ghost?”
Logan shifts uncomfortably, looking like he wants nothing more than to hightail it off-screen. But he can’t move—his three brothers and cousin are caging him in.
Blake shoves closer to Logan and steps fully into the frame.
His blue eyes dance with mischief as he says into the microphone, “My theory is the town legend was made up by a bunch of wasted cowboys who sat around the bonfire one night after a long day of work and decided to screw with everyone’s heads by concocting some dumbass…
can I say dumbass on TV?” He grins before continuing.
“And completely made-up story about Jane Austen and her ghost. Logan always said he thought Vivian’s diary was possibly fifty to ninety percent crap. ”
Logan mutters something inaudible to Blake and then turns to look straight at the camera. I have to blink twice to remind myself that he’s not looking straight at me. “I have no comment,” he says quickly before handing his Loganiskey to Blake and disappearing toward the restrooms.
Ginny pats my arm sympathetically as I hurl an insult at the TV.
Eloise glares at me. But if anyone in this place is angrier than I am, it’s Ginny’s mother.
“So, Logan’s going to try to steal my daughter’s thunder?
” Mrs. Rattles says in measured tones. “The youngest Wild boy thinks he can just go away, grab some random girl, and bring her back here to marry? Like the reporter said, all of Darcy knows that Logan doesn’t commit!
Didn’t want anything to do with marriage his whole life—I mean, we all know his wedding with you was due to a drunken night in Vegas, Macey! ”
I blink at the harshness of her statement. The thing is, she’s right.
“Oh, Macey, I hope you didn’t inherit your mama’s luck in love,” Eloise says with a heavy sigh. “So many divorces for her, and now you already have one under your belt. I hate to see a pretty girl like you wallowing alone…”
Mrs. Rattles mercifully cuts her off. “We’ll have to move up Ginny’s wedding. I suggest July first. That’s three whole days ahead of Logan’s wedding. We can’t have my daughter and Logan marrying back to back on the fourth—you’d only get half the attention!”
I nod. “That’s fine. I don’t know what my parents were thinking booking two weddings on the same day. I’ll be sure to change Gin’s wedding to the first on the chapel calendar.”
I return my attention to the television.
“The last part of the so-called legend is creative, I’ll give them that.” Blake is back at the microphone. “The Queen of Romance needing a couple of soul mates to unlock her prison? Brilliant.” He winks into the camera. “Mace? What do you think about Logan and Gigi breaking the curse?”
“Freaking holy jerk of all jerks!” I shout at the TV like Blake can hear me.
And then…I don’t even bother to change into my t-shirt and shorts. I simply pick up my dress by the hem and storm out.