What Not To Were (Paris, Texas Romance #2)

Winnie smiled, but her eyes were so full of sorrow. “I promise, this time I have a handle on things. Oh, and before you go, something to note. Nash’s love for you was stronger than Kirby’s spell—it’s why he called you Cupcake Lady. He was starting to remember. I hope you realize the magnitude of that. He fought off a spell he didn’t even know he was under because his love is so deep and real. You deserve that, Calla. Don’t ever forget it.”


“Never,” she whispered. Calla hugged her once more, watching as she released Nash from his deadly restraints. Then, without pause, she began carrying everyone out like some batch of bizarre statues, keeping her eyes focused on the task and refusing to even take a glimpse at Kirby.

She placed everyone gently on the ground outside the barn one by one. When she hauled Nash up, she planted a kiss on his forehead and held him tight.

She didn’t look back. She didn’t question Winnie’s choice. Instead she sat down on the ground and waited for everyone to stir.

Gus was the first, his whistle long and wheezing from his throat. “Ooo-weee, that was a helluva a fight! Let’s do field trips more often, kiddo.”

Calla inspected his face, running her hands over the wrinkled surface. “You are a bad ass, sir. I’m very impressed with your chokehold. Oh, and thank you. I can’t say it enough,” she whispered, dropping a kiss on his cheek.

Flora groaned, rolling to her side and reaching for the hand Gus offered her. She sat up with a moan, grass stuck to her hair.

Calla plucked a piece of it from the side of her head. “I think the Dallas Cowboys are insane not to offer you a contract after that catch, Miss Flora.”

She waved a hand in the air. “Bah! Who wants to be all sweaty and smelly when you can wear one of those cute cheerleader outfits?”

Calla barked a laugh, rousing everyone else.

Nash was immediately on his feet, his eyes scanning the area and landing on Calla. He didn’t say anything when he reached down for her and pulled her into his arms, hugging her hard.

And then she cried, the tears falling from her eyes and soaking his dirty shirt.

“Christ, Calla. You scared the hell out of me,” he muttered against the top of her head.

“Ditto.”

“Don’t ever, ever do something that crazy again. Got it?”

“Deal, as long as you don’t ever, ever forget who I am again.”

He chuckled, the vibration against her chest, warming her from the inside out. “Do I know you?”

“Oh, that’s rich, pal,” Clive said, his shirt torn and his plaid shorts almost shredded. “You’re one funny guy. Maybe you should take it on the road?” He knelt down beside Greta, whose head was bleeding, and used the edge of his dirty shirt to wipe the droplets away.

Greta popped upward, her hand automatically going for her whistle before she ever touched the gash on the side of her head. “Okay, so just for future reference? Next time you forget your lady love—I’m out.”

Daphne rose to her knees and held out her hand to Greta, who helped her up. “I’m gettin’ too damn old for that kind of abracadabra, people. Next time we group magic, let’s whip up something fun. Like fairies and unicorns, huh?”

Everyone laughed as they began to make their way out of the field leading to the barn, Calla’s hand wrapped in Nash’s.

She stopped dead, right in the middle of their trek back to Winnie’s. “Guys?”

They turned as a group, all tired eyes and weary bodies pointing in her direction.

“Did I say thank you? I don’t think I did. I’m not one of you, and I know that, but as you all know, my kind doesn’t consider me one of theirs either. Yet, they weren’t here tonight—right behind me, taking up for me as though I really belonged. So…” She faltered, her throat tight, but she gulped it back. “Thank you. Thank you all.”

Daphne blew her a kiss and grinned. “Welcome to the coven. Wanna borrow my cauldron?”

Everyone laughed, clapping each other on the back and setting their feet back in motion again, and as they plowed through the dark, Calla’s heart settled back in her chest, the easy beat of it peaceful.

And she knew. She was exactly where she belonged. With the seniors at the center…with her grandfather…with her friends—and with Nash.

Forever Cowboy Nash.

“Hey, Calla?” Gus called over his shoulder.

“Yes, Gus?”

“Next time we do a daytime excursion, could we maybe just do the zoo?”

She threw her head back and laughed. “You bet, buddy. Monkey’s for everyone.”

Three months later

Calla held up the ring so Daphne and Winnie could see it under the lights of the rec room. “Wow—how do you hold your hand up with that big ol’ thing on your finger? It’s a wonder you can even move it,” Daphne teased, giving her a hug. “So stinkin’ happy for you!”

“Congratulations, Calla. No hard feelings, I hope?” Fate asked, his handsome face wreathed once again in a smile.

“You mean because you spewed some cryptic life-or-death message about my entire existance falling apart then passed out like a drunk after a fifth of whiskey? Never!” she joked with a grin.