Liam's Invented I-Do

by Liz Isaacson

  “I don’t really care about the money,” he said.

  Of course he didn’t. She’d heard the Walkers were independently wealthy, and his nonchalance about money proved it.

  “Then I’ll charge people a lot of money, and they’d pay it,” she said, adding a laugh at the end so he’d know she wouldn’t really do that. She peered at him, and he seemed absolutely closed off again. The man who’d held her hand and asked her what she liked to do in her spare time was not the same, tense cowboy standing in front of her at the moment.

  Hoping she wasn’t about to blow everything between them—especially the possibility of more hand-holding—Whitney stepped over to him and laced her arm through his. “Tell me what specifically you’re worried about if I shoot out here.”

  “I dunno,” he said automatically, not softening the slightest bit at her touch. Maybe Whitney had been imagining the fireworks between them. She sincerely hoped not, but he was difficult to read with all the walls up so high.

  “Yes, you do,” she said gently, the stroll they’d fallen into nice and easy.

  Jeremiah took his sweet time answering, but he finally said, “I’m worried about you disrupting my peace,” he said.

  “We can schedule around that,” Whitney said.

  Jeremiah shook his head and chuckled. “You’re never going to give up on this, are you?”

  “Probably not,” she said. “Maybe we could do a trial or something.”

  “Let’s talk about it over dinner,” he said. “Have you decided where you want to go? Are we doing that new steak place?”

  “Yes,” she said. “And I’ll get my arguments for a trial shooting period ready on the way in. You want to follow me?”

  “Sure,” he said, and they fell into silence again. This time, Whitney rather liked it, her cells singing with the warmth of Jeremiah’s body next to her. He had a very calm presence, despite the walls.

  She sure hoped she could convince him to let her shoot out here—or at least ask her out again. She felt stupid praying for such a thing, but she’d been taught the Lord heard prayers of the heart, so it probably didn’t matter.

  What be will be, she thought. But another date would be nice.

  Chapter Twenty

  Wyatt Walker groaned as he got to his feet. “That’s the last of it,” he said to Orion. “You guys okay to haul this all out? I have to get over and sign the crop-dusting contract.”

  “You got it,” Orion said, and Wyatt left him and Dicky to clean out the ripped up flooring in the cowboy cabin where they’d been working for a couple of hours.

  Wyatt’s back ached, and he was once again reminded why he’d left the rodeo circuit. He literally wouldn’t have physically survived another season, but he masked the limp until he made it to the front porch. The wood here needed to be replaced in spots, but Wyatt wasn’t going to be the one who did it. Thankfully.

  He didn’t have the heart to tell Liam he couldn’t help at the Shining Star. The truth was, he could. He’d just need to ice his shoulder and take a fistful of pills every few hours. He’d also put an icy patch on his back last night before going to bed, though he wasn’t technically supposed to wear them for that long.

  His skin had been a bit blistered that morning, but his back had been pain-free. Now, though, after only a couple of hours of work, he felt like he’d been trampled all over again. His hip hurt, and his knee hurt, and he felt like a complete invalid as he made his way to his truck.

  It was hard work pretending like he didn’t live with constant pain. Hard work acting like he could walk normally, that some of the ranch chores Jeremiah had given him didn’t make his fingers clench.

  He’d been working out at Bowman’s Breeds a lot more, which was easier work, though taming a stubborn horse wasn’t always a picnic. His hands did hurt at the end of every shift, because after years of tying himself to a bucking horse or a mad bull could do that to a man.

  He climbed into his truck, a long sigh coming from his mouth. Wyatt carried painkillers with him everywhere he went, and he reached over to the glove box and pulled out the bottle of pills. He swallowed them dry, because he was already late leaving to get over to Payne’s Pest-free and sign their next contract.

  Wyatt did a lot of driving, and he didn’t mind the quick trip into town. He had his favorites around town, including the bakery and the coffee shop next door. But such luxuries would have to wait until after he’d inked the contract.

  He drove past his favorite haunts, his stomach growling for more than a doughnut and coffee, and turned west. The nicer parts of town were the new north suburbs, and all the rolling estates on the east side. But Wyatt liked the smaller houses out this way, the more old-town feeling of Three Rivers.

  Wyatt was still making himself at home in town, though he’d been here for a year. Out of all the brothers, he probably came to town the most. Sure, Jeremiah did the grocery shopping every week, and Rhett seemed to have a love affair with the pancake house. But Wyatt had a goal to eat his way through every restaurant, diner, coffee shop, and barbecue hut in town. And the surrounding towns.

  He drove past the last convenience store on the west side of town, the highway before him leading to Amarillo. He turned off after another mile, using a dirt road that most people probably drove by without even seeing.

  Another couple miles down the dusty road sat a huge building that sheltered airplanes. A couple dusters sat outside the building too, and Wyatt pulled next to the only other vehicle in the lot—another truck, this one much older than his.

  The pills Wyatt had taken a half an hour ago had kicked in, and his back barely pinched as he got out of the truck. The office at Payne’s Pest-free was small, but clean, and Wyatt glanced around as he’d never been here before.

  A simple counter stood near the back, with a sign that said, Ring the bell. We’re around somewhere.

  He hit the bell a couple of times and fell back a step. Only one other door led out of the office and into the hangars, but Wyatt didn’t want to go wandering around.

  No one came, though, and Wyatt rang the bell again, this time stepping over to the door. “Hello?” he called as he entered the hangar. A plane sat there, and a scraping noise came from under the aircraft. “Anyone here?”

  He’d gotten a call from Martin. Could he have forgotten?

  “Martin?” He rounded the front propeller of the airplane, and a very feminine figure was bent over, examining the inner workings of the aircraft’s engine.

  Wyatt froze, because he hadn’t been expecting that. He wanted to call to this woman again, but his throat had turned into a desert.

  In the next moment, she started singing. The lyrics belonged to a popular country music song, and she knew every single one. She had a beautiful voice that filled the hangar as she sang at the top of her lungs.

  Wyatt smiled then, because he didn’t see a way out of this situation that didn’t end in embarrassment for both of them.

  He’d had a fair few girlfriends while he rode the circuit, but none of them lasted, and truth be told, Wyatt hadn’t wanted any of them to last. It was fun to celebrate with a pretty cowgirl when he won though, and he had missed the feminine touch in his life over the course of the past year.

  He liked the Foster sisters though, and Brynn and Ethan Greene had been good to him too. He liked the family atmosphere out at Three Rivers Ranch, and Wyatt had found a place to belong in Three Rivers.

  The woman’s singing quieted to a hum, and Wyatt got the gumption up to step over to the airplane and knock on it. “Ma’am?”

  A startled yelp came from her mouth, and she straightened, her eyes wild as they landed on him. He held up both hands and said, “Sorry. Sorry.”

  She yanked out her earbuds, and Wyatt realized why she hadn’t heard him calling or the bell. “Who are you?” She lifted the wrench in her hand as if she’d hit him with it.

  Wyatt couldn’t help grinning at her again. She had short, blonde hair that wisped around her face, wh
ich bore a bit of grease on her chin. Her bright blue eyes sparked with fear and then fury, and Wyatt backed up again.

  “Sorry,” he said again, because she could hear him with those earbuds out. “I rang the bell.” He hooked his thumb over his shoulder, toward the little office space. “I’m supposed to meet Martin here?” Why he’d phrased it as a question, he wasn’t sure.

  He was sure that he wanted this woman’s number, and that surprised him a little. Number one, she didn’t seem like his type at all. She wore cargo pants instead of jeans, and heavy work boots instead of the cute cowgirl boots that usually got his pulse racing.

  She visibly relaxed and lowered the wrench. “You must be Wyatt Walker.”

  “Guilty, ma’am.” He tipped his hat at her, sure he’d win her over with his cowboy charm.

  She barely reacted, other than to toss her wrench into the toolbox where it landed with an earsplitting clanging noise. “Whoops,” she said as Wyatt flinched. She brought her gaze back to his. “I’m Marcy Payne. I have your paperwork over here.”

  “You do?”

  Marcy’s expression hardened, and she gave him a curt nod. “Follow me, please.”

  Oh, he would, and Wyatt wished he didn’t let his thoughts rule his actions quite so much. He did follow her over to a workbench, where a pristine manila folder sat.

  “You’re with Seven Sons, right?”

  “That’s right, ma’am.”

  She flicked her gaze at him for a microsecond. “I have you down for a year-long contract, over four thousand acres. We’ll do field-prep fertilizing in the winter and we move on to pest control through spring, summer, and fall. We’ve got you down for twice a month in the winter, and every week in the spring, at six-fifty per month.” She glanced at him again, and she could’ve been telling him he’d need to give her his right kidney, and he would’ve agreed to it.

  “Mm hm,” he said.

  “You get a five percent discount for signing for the full year, and I just need your John Hancock right here.” She tapped the paper.

  “I wanted to ask you,” he said. “Do you have a contract with the ranch next to mine?” Seven Sons so wasn’t his ranch, but Marcy probably already knew that.

  “The Shining Star?” Marcy looked confused. “No. They barely plant anything there.”

  “Well, they’re going to this year,” Wyatt said, because he knew Callie Foster had done the best she could. “And I want to pay for a year of their dusting too. Same terms as ours.”

  Marcy’s eyebrows went up, and those electric blue eyes sent pulses through Wyatt’s body. “Really?”

  “Yes, ma’am.” She didn’t need to know the idea had been Jeremiah’s. “I probably should’ve called. Then you could’ve had the paperwork ready.”

  “I can get it done quick,” she said. “Let’s go into my office.” She collected the folder and headed away from what Wyatt had thought was the office. Down in the front corner sat another office, and Wyatt wasn’t sure he’d fit inside.

  Marcy ducked inside and sat at a metal desk, where a computer waited. She tapped and said, “Have a seat, Wyatt. It’ll just take two shakes.”

  Wyatt surveyed the office. It was definitely tiny, and the scent of powder and flowers hung in the air. Wyatt entered, because he wanted to see if they could co-exist in such a tiny space.

  “Shining Star,” she muttered. “What’s the number there?”

  “I have no idea,” Wyatt said.

  “Whose name should I put this under.”

  “I don’t know,” Wyatt said.

  Marcy peered around her computer. “What do you know, honey?”

  He smiled at her, glad when she returned the gesture. “Put my brother’s name on it. Jeremiah Walker. And I’ll Google the number.” He tapped and put in Seven Son’s address. “We’re thirty-four seven-eight-six. They’re….”

  “Thirty-five one-four-seven,” she said. “Do you know how big the ranch is?”

  “I do not,” he said, grinning at her.

  She giggled and wiped her bangs out of her eyes. “I can come talk to Callie.”

  “Oh, she’s out of town.”

  Marcy leaned around the computer again. “She’s what? Callie Foster? She hasn’t left town in years.”

  Wyatt didn’t know what to say about that, so he said nothing.

  “Where is she?”

  “Hawaii,” he said.

  Marcy scoffed, those eyes glittering at him. “Oh, you’re not joking.”

  “Nope.”

  “Why—?”

  “She married Liam,” Wyatt said. “My brother. They’re on their honeymoon.”

  Pure surprise moved across her face. “Oh. Wow. Good for them.”

  “I’ll ask Simone or Evelyn,” Wyatt said. “Can I just call you and let you know?”

  “Yeah, that would work.” She went back to the computer, and a moment later, a printer from somewhere he couldn’t see whirred. “Here we go.” She produced the paperwork. “I’ll just have you sign it.”

  “Do we get the five percent discount?”

  “Yep,” she said. “And you’ll get a fifty-dollar credit for a referral.”

  “Perfect,” Wyatt said, as if fifty dollars mattered to him. But it didn’t. He’d been a billionaire before his father had retired and sold his company. He supposed his bones had paid for his lifestyle in the rodeo.

  “Sign here,” Marcy said, and he signed both contracts. “Great, I’ll fly you guys on the same day. Tuesdays still work for you?”

  “Yes, ma’am.” He reached up and touched his cowboy hat. “Now, should I just call your business line here after I talk to the Fosters? Or is there a…personal number I can use?” He grinned at her again, encouraged when a slow smile touched her mouth too.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Simone Foster climbed the steps of the cabin way down on the end of the row. She drew in a deep breath and opened the door to what would become her new home. Joy danced through her, and she once again knew she’d made the right decision.

  True, the cabin was in shambles right now, but Simone’s artistic mind started imagining where the new chair she’d found at a yard sale could go, and where her false flower arrangement would look best.

  Putting little details in place made her so very happy, even if she had to walk across a bare plywood floor right now. She trailed her fingers down the wall to her left, the living room expanding to her right. In the back corner of this cabin sat a back door, which led out onto a small deck. From there, the ranch spread out into the horizon, and Simone loved standing there and taking in the view.

  “I can’t believe I get to live here,” she said to herself, stepping into the kitchen. She was having the flooring guys put the vinyl throughout the cabin, so there wouldn’t be a real line from living room to kitchen, but Simone knew when she entered the kitchen. The cupboards were all still in, as hers had just needed to be cleaned.

  And that was what she was doing this morning. Down the hall sat a bathroom, and the water still ran in all the cabins. Across the hall was the hot water heater and a small linen closet, with two bedrooms, one in each of the remaining corner of the house.

  Simone loved the small cabin with everything inside her. She wasn’t sure she’d live out here alone, but Liam had hired twelve people to work the Shining Star, and all of them were going to live out here. Well, ten of them were. The other two had been assigned a cabin at Seven Sons, and Simone was excited to start meeting new people.

  New men, if she were being honest with herself. New cowboys.

  She hadn’t been in the dating pool in a very long time. Those waters had been so dangerous for her health before, and she didn’t have the right swimwear. But Evelyn had dove in, and now Callie, and Simone didn’t really want to live alone with her reupholstery business for the rest of her life.

  In the bathroom, she filled a bucket with hot water in the tub, adding a pine-tree-scented cleaner. She took it into the kitchen and started wiping everything dow
n. The wood gleamed under the touch of her rag, and she started to sing as she worked. Daddy had always sang while he worked, and Simone’s earliest memory of her father was one where she toddled after him as he went out onto the ranch to feed the cattle.

  Of course, they didn’t have many cattle anymore, and sadness slipped through Simone, making her change the song coursing from her mouth. It was okay; she liked more forlorn tales of love and faith too, and she knew a lot of hymns from her time in the church choir.

  With the cabinets along the back wall shining and spotless, she turned her attention to the small island. By the time she finished that, her fingers ached, and the water was nearly black. She stood and stretched her back, finishing the hymn she’d been singing.

  She needed to clean the bathroom today too, as well as scrub all the windowsills and windows. Then the cabin would be ready for new flooring, and once that was in, all Simone needed was furniture before she could move in. She could take dishes and utensils from the homestead, as Liam had ordered new pots and pans, new plates, bowls, cups, and china. New everything.

  Simone sure did like Liam, and she hoped Callie wouldn’t fillet him alive when they got back from Hawaii. If he was smart, he’d warn her before just bringing her back to a completely different ranch than the one she’d left. Simone loved Callie, but her sister had a hard time adjusting to changes, and Liam had made dozens of them.

  She bent and picked up the bucket, a groan coming from her mouth.

  “Was that you singing?” a man asked, and Simone cried out and dropped the bucket. It hit her foot, sending pain exploding through her bones and up her leg, and then tipped. Tears sprang to her eyes, and she spun toward the voice.

  Micah Walker stood there, wearing that sexy cowboy hat and a look on his face she couldn’t read before he sprang into motion. “I’m sorry,” he said, his voice a deep baritone she wanted to hear sing. “I didn’t mean to startle you.” He righted the bucket with one hand while the other slid around her waist, holding her steady as she tried to balance on one foot.