Wyoming Matchmaker
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Melissa Senate
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19
Chapter One
Detective Ford Dawson’s latest case: a missing wedding gown. With one unexpected twist.
“So you came home from work and your dress was gone?” Ford asked Trudy Dunbar, the middle-aged woman sitting across from him on the sofa. He tried hard to keep from looking at the younger woman—the aforementioned twist—sitting beside the victim.
He’d taken note of the surname when Trudy had called the Bear Ridge Police Department to report the theft, but he hadn’t expected her to be necessarily related to Danica Dunbar—or that Danica would be here with Trudy. Luckily for Ford, he had a solid poker face, which had helped to hide the jolt he’d felt at the sight of her. He could easily see the family resemblance between the two women, though Trudy was probably twenty-five years older, a few inches shorter, with straight blond hair cut to her chin.
Tears brimmed in Trudy’s hazel eyes. “Well, I got home from work, changed into comfortable clothes and then took Bixby for a walk—that’s my French bulldog.”
At his name, the little black-and-white dog scampered over, jumped up on the sofa and settled beside Trudy.
“The dress was there when I left, hanging on a hook on the back of my bedroom door,” Trudy added. “When I returned, it was gone.”
“How long were you out?” he asked.
“About forty-five minutes. I take Bixby to the park every night at six thirty. It’s our routine.”
A routine someone had obviously noticed.
“My niece here bought me the dress as a wedding gift,” Trudy said, looking at Danica with tear-filled eyes. “So I feel doubly terrible that it was stolen. I just brought it home yesterday.”
“Don’t you worry, Aunt Trudy,” Danica said, squeezing the older woman’s hand. “Ford—Detective Dawson,” she quickly corrected, “will get your gown back and before the wedding.”
And how could you possibly know that? he wanted to snap. Two months ago, they’d shared an unforgettable night together before she’d left his bed at three in the morning like it was spewing hot lava—without explanation. He could be the worst detective in Wyoming for all she knew about him.
He wasn’t—Ford was damned good at his job. But still. Danica hadn’t had a chance to get to know him. So what had sent her running out of his life so fast? After a night that couldn’t have gone any better—until it had come to a screeching halt. He was a seasoned detective and couldn’t figure this out. It grated.
“Do you have any idea who might have taken the dress?” he asked, flipping a page in his notebook. This wasn’t a typical burglary; nothing else had been taken or disturbed. He doubted someone randomly broke in, noticed the wedding gown hanging on the back of the bedroom door, and decided to make off with only it instead of the contents of Trudy’s jewelry box, which according to Trudy included an untouched diamond tennis bracelet. Someone had targeted the gown itself.
Trudy took a sip of her coffee. “Well, my fiancé was dating three different women before we met, and they do all give me the stink-eye when they see me around.” She shrugged. “Two of them marched up to Cole to yell at him when I was standing right next to him.”
Hmm. A jealous ex? Could be.
“Do you know their names?” Ford asked.
Trudy shook her head. “You’d have to ask Cole, though I’m not sure he’d feel comfortable telling you. He probably wouldn’t want to accuse anyone without proof. Cole is such a tenderhearted man.”
A month ago, Ford might not have thought that a man dating four women at the same time could be described as tenderhearted. But such was the new normal in town, ever since almost one hundred single women of all ages had moved to Bear Ridge, ready to pair up with their soul mates. There’d been a severe shortage of single women—ten men to every woman—and it had started affecting more than just lonely bachelors. The few restaurants and bars had begun to fail. The one bridal shop closed. Young people were leaving in droves for Prairie City, a bigger, more bustling town a half hour away. Business at the Dawson Family Guest Ranch, which Ford co-owned with his five siblings, was booming since the majority of their guests were from out of town and state. But two good cowboys and a reliable cook in the cafeteria had quit, saying they were moving on since there was no nightlife anymore, no one to ask out. The one single cowgirl on staff, hounded for dates day and night, couldn’t take it another second and quit. She’d moved to Prairie City.
That had led the new mayor and town council, which included Ford’s sister, Daisy, to hatch a plan to bring single women to town to boost the economy and keep folks here. After a social media blitz about Bear Ridge’s available and marriage-minded men—there’d been an accompanying photo of a wealthy rancher who looked a lot like one of the Marvel movie actors—the women had started coming to town in droves to meet their potential true loves. A free matchmaking service was provided, too.
Ford, who was looking to settle down, hadn’t bothered signing up. Not after what had happened with Danica.
But dating was now the town pastime for singles. The bars and restaurants and parks and Main Street were full of couples, full of dates and even wedding ceremonies after whirlwind romances. At a speed dating event a few weeks ago that Ford had worked—there was always at least one fistfight at this kind of thing—the mayor had announced that dating was a numbers game and sometimes you had to kiss a lot of frogs to find your prince or princess. The singles had taken that to heart and you’d see the same man or woman with a new date every day until a match was made. But that didn’t mean feelings didn’t get hurt.
Love was serious business. Everyone knew that.
“I’m sorry about your gown, Ms. Dunbar, and I will do my best to get it back for you,” Ford said to Trudy. “I’ll be in touch the moment I have information for you.” He took a final sip of his coffee and then stood. “Oh, when is the wedding?”
“In two weeks—on Saturday night,” Danica said. She popped up. “I’ll walk you out.”
Interesting. Maybe he’d finally get his explanation for what happened back in February. But should he be thinking about that two months later? Harping on it? Completely down on dating when there were plenty of single women in Bear Ridge now?
“I sure hope Aunt Trudy doesn’t leave town because of this,” Danica whispered as she walked him out to the porch. “She moved here for a fresh start and now that she’s found her second chance at love, this might taint it and send her and her fiancé packing.”
He remembered Danica talking about her lack of family in town during their night together. Her parents had retired to Arizona and her one sibling lived far away, so she’d been alone here. Her aunt Trudy, one of her few remaining relatives, had been married to a man who hated small-town life, but they’d divorced recently and Trudy had finally come back to her hometown.
Ford had once felt the same as Trudy’s ex. It had taken him a long time to realize it wasn’t small-town life he had a problem with, but the particular small town of Bear Ridge. The minute Ford had graduated from high school, he’d fled. Leaving his five siblings behind hadn’t been easy, but staying was out of the question back then. He’d moved to Casper, a small city hours away, and become a cop. But the life he’d built there had been missing something for a long time. It had taken him almost twenty years to come home.
Now he was the last single Dawson. One by one, his siblings had moved back to the Dawson Family Guest Ranch, where they’d all once said they’d never step foot again. And one by one, they’d met their matches in every context. Then there was him. The oldest, at thirty-five—and alone.
And now that Bear Ridge was full of single women, he was hung up on the one who’d walked away. Same old story.
He looked at Danica, beautiful in the glow of the porch light, her long blond hair in a swirly tumble past her shoulders, her blue eyes full of so many different emotions he couldn’t assess them all. He saw worry for her aunt. And clear nervousness about standing here with him. Yeah, he wasn’t too comfortable either. From naked in his bed to awkward almost-strangers.
“I promise you I’ll do my best to find the thief and the dress,” he said. He couldn’t promise it would be in one piece or that it wasn’t in an alleyway Dumpster, covered in garbage. He’d seen the damage inflicted by scorned exes, and it was never pretty.
“I appreciate that,” she said. “Especially given—” She clamped her mouth shut.
Especially given what happened between us...how awkward this is...
“No worries,” he said.
But he didn’t mean it. How was he supposed to move on from Danica when he didn’t know what had gone wrong between them? They’d made love, fed each other whipped-cream-covered strawberries, then lay spooned and talked about everything and anything for hours. He’d been so relaxed with her against his chest, his arms wrapped around her. He’d been hopeful about the newfangled future he envisioned for himself. And then she’d crept off in the middle of the night, mumbling something about how this wasn’t going to work, sorry, but she had to go. The next day he’d left her a voice mail: no response. He’d sent roses to her office, asking if they could talk. All he’d gotten back was a two-line text saying they just weren’t a match, sorry.
He’d been so damned thrown for a loop that he’d considered asking his sister, whose favorite subject was relationships, what the hell could have gone wrong, but he couldn’t bring himself to talk about it. He just grumbled around for a few weeks. And now he was once again close enough to Danica Dunbar to smell her intoxicating perfume.
“I’ll be in touch with your aunt,” he said, emphasizing the words your aunt.
She nodded and he booked down the stairs and into his squad car.
He’d spent all those weeks trying to forget her, and now he was right back into remembering.
Danica stayed out on the porch, needing to catch her breath and slow her heart rate. When her aunt had called the Bear Ridge Police Department about the burglary, Danica had figured there was only a small chance of Ford Dawson being the cop to show up. But, lately, the odds hadn’t been in Danica’s favor in any aspect of her life.
“He sure was a handsome one.”
Danica turned around to find her aunt coming outside.
So handsome. Six feet two, rock-hard muscles, thick dark hair and the bluest eyes. The way he kissed... “Yeah, I guess,” Danica said, trying for a neutral expression. “I’m sure he’ll find your dress, Aunt Trudy. Ford is very dedicated to his job and this community.”
Trudy narrowed her eyes. “Ford, huh? You clearly know him. I thought I sensed something in the air. You two have a history?”
Danica nodded and leaned against the porch railing. “Unfortunately, we...want different things,” she said as memories of lying in his arms came flooding back. “I think I should just be on my own for a while. Till I figure myself out.”
“You do what feels right,” her aunt said, putting an arm around her.
That made Danica feel better. Though she wasn’t sure what was right. After her marriage had fallen apart a year ago, she’d taken that entire time for herself, to regroup, to cry, to know who she was apart from her ex, a man she’d been with since middle school. Before the influx of single women, Danica had been asked out constantly. She’d finally started saying yes to the ones who seemed kind. She hadn’t connected with anyone. Until Ford.
For a few beautiful hours back in February, she thought she’d found the man of her dreams in Ford Dawson. Kind. Honest. Open. Warm. Funny. Generous. So good-looking. Seriously sexy. And what a kisser. The moment she’d felt his lips against hers, she’d been a goner.
And then, as they lay together in bed, her back against his chest, his arms around her, he’d mentioned children, and anxiety had pushed the air out of her. He hoped for six, like his parents had had. At least four, for sure. Any combination.
Danica was thirty-one and had yet to feel maternal urges, that stirring her friends talked about. She loved children, particularly her goddaughter, her best friend Molly’s one-year-old baby girl. But her ex-husband, who’d left her after ten years of marriage because she hadn’t been ready to start a family, had told her he didn’t think she’d ever be ready and she should just admit the truth—that she didn’t want a child. Danica didn’t think that was true. She’d always been able to see herself with a baby—way in the future. But the want, the maternal feelings, the baby fever, even during the early years of her marriage when she’d thought she was finally on her way to being happy, feeling safe and secure in the world, never happened.
She’d lost her marriage because of I’m-just-not-ready. And she hadn’t been able to talk about it with anyone, not even her best friend. When Danica’s ex had confessed to cheating on her, to having fallen for someone else, Molly had been newly pregnant, going through her own divorce, and Danica hadn’t felt comfortable talking about her lack of baby fever. Recently Danica had finally told Molly that she wasn’t sure she wanted kids, and her friend’s theory made her feel better about not being ready.
According to Molly, Danica’s ex-husband was the typical golden boy who liked trophies, which Danica always had been to him until she wouldn’t give him what he wanted next: a child. So he’d left her. Molly truly believed that Danica had married him more because it had been expected and was safe than because there was any great love between them. She thought that when Danica did fall in love, as an adult woman with experience behind her, she just might feel those first maternal urges.
Maybe to all of it. Maybe not. There was nothing wrong with not wanting children.
But there was something wrong with starting a relationship with a man who’d made it crystal clear he wanted six kids.
So she’d made excuses and fled the house that she herself had found for Ford as his real estate agent. He’d had a housewarming party earlier that day, and she hadn’t left until three in the morning.
“Well, I’m gonna head upstairs and pack,” Trudy said. “Good thing I only rented this Airbnb till the end of the month.”
Danica nodded, turning to head back into the cute little house. Many married residents and retirees had listed their homes on the vacation rental websites and were raking it in while taking long-awaited vacations, the singles having long filled up the few inns in town and the motels just outside of town. She’d invited Trudy to stay with her, but her aunt had wanted her own space and somewhere to “canoodle” with her dates. Not feeling comfortable staying in the rental anymore, Trudy was moving in with her fiancé and both the bride and groom were excited for the jumpstart on their lives together.
“Ga-ba!”
Danica turned at the sweet little voice. Across the street, a toddler was walking between a young man and woman, each holding a hand. Every few steps, they’d swing her forward, giggles bursting.
Danica smiled, waiting for that feeling to come over her. The I want that. It didn’t.
“Ooh, Danica! Danica!”
Danica looked across the street to see the mayor of Bear Ridge waving at her and rushing toward her. What was this about?
“I’m hoping you can help me,” Pauline Abbott said, pushing her square silver glasses up on her nose. “I’m fresh out of a meeting and it seems the team working on a round of matchmaking applications was doing a terrible job. You know everyone in town, Danica. And since you’re not dating, would you help?”
Danica was about to wonder how the mayor knew so much about her personal life, and then remembered that Pauline had been sitting at the next table in Grill 307 yesterday when Danica had been having lunch with Molly and grumbled, “Ugh, I’m not dating anymore, that’s it. Mr. Right will just have to drop out of the sky.”
That was basically how Molly had ended up with her own dream man. She’d pretty much just had to wait until Zeke Dawson, one of Ford’s brothers, got over himself, and once he did, he realized the woman he’d been looking for was right there all along. Molly, his administrative assistant, and now a partner in business and life.
“It’s not done by computer and algorithms?” Danica asked.
“Goodness, no,” Pauline said. “Matching ticked boxes isn’t going to bring people together. Oh, whoop-de-do, they both like horses and walking along the beach at sunset.” She let out one of her famous snorts. “Our system takes a bit longer, but our matchmakers can pair people based on real compatibility—what they actually say they want in a partner.”
Makes sense, Danica thought. “What do I need to do?” she asked. “Seems like a lot of responsibility. A lot to get wrong. Like the predecessor did.”
Pauline waved a hand. “Oh, you’ll do wonders. You’re in the business of bringing people and houses together. It’s the same concept, only it’s people and people. You just match folks up with what they’re really looking for. Someone says they want three bedrooms and two baths, you don’t show them two-bedrooms-and-one-bath properties, right?”
“Right,” Danica agreed. Huh. “I suppose I could give it a go.” Maybe she’d find a great guy whose paternal urges weren’t stirring past the age of thirty, either.
“You’re a peach!” Mayor Abbott said, handing Danica the forms. “There are about fifty-some-odd here. Our motto at Bear Ridge Matchmaking Central—a lid for every pot. Of course, not everyone in this group will be a match, but there’s more where this came from every day as singles put themselves back in after bad dates. We do have a good success rate, though.”
That had to be true, based on all the handholding going on in town, plus Danica’s own aunt. Even Danica’s neighbor three houses down, a sweet widower with four very yippy but cute dogs, had found love with a woman with two huge Irish wolfhounds and two cats. They were going to make it work.
The mayor zipped back across to her car and drove off.
Danica stared at the pile of wants and hopes and dreams in her hand. How wonderful would it be to bring people together, bring love into their lives, even if she had to be alone.
