Dog Wood Bride

by Jillian Hart

  He drank in the happiness while larks trilled, sparrows tweeted on the fence rails and bluebirds cawed flying through the fields.

  Making love to Skye couldn't be undone, and he wouldn't want to erase the passion between them or the way he felt for her. She was absolutely the best dream that had ever happened to him.

  * * *

  She woke slow and sweet and in the muted glow of afternoon sunlight, tucked beneath a fuzzy blanket, soft against her bare skin. A bit of Brennan's body's warmth remained, even if she was all alone in his bed.

  He must be checking on the mustangs.

  She stretched lazily, her body sated and relaxed and wonderfully tender and well-loved. She felt marvelous. It was a luxurious feeling to go over the memories of making love with him. Sweet, hot, sweaty images drifted through her mind, of how she'd clung to him when he'd come, breathing her name during his release.

  How amazing it had felt when he'd kissed her tenderly and passionately afterward. Now she wanted to make love again until time lost all meaning. She never wanted to stop.

  But she had to be practical, so she rolled out of bed, grabbed her clothes and dressed. The cheerful, warm-hot sunlight tumbled over her like liquid gold as she slipped out of the room and through the bunkhouse.

  At least Claude wouldn't be back until the wee hours, so he would never know. She grabbed her sunbonnet on her way out the door, smiling ear to ear. Yes, it was a new day. A whole new life, she thought and swept out into the magnificent world.

  The first wildflowers of the season were in full bloom and lazily bobbed in cadence to the wind. The soft kiss of the sun accompanied her down the pathway worn through the grasses.

  Brennan. Her entire being craved him. Her eyes searched hungrily for him as she headed across the yard. Her soul soared at the faint murmur of his voice carried on the breezes, rum-rich and baritone-deep, rumbling straight through her.

  She went hot and wet for him. Her entire body melted, and she sighed. It was nice, it was heavenly, to be well-loved.

  She spotted him at the corral fence, standing straight and tall, with one large hand braced on a rail, with his strong back to her, talking to someone out of sight.

  Oh, she just wanted to admire him. Her knees wobbled, and she lost her forward momentum. Her entire being, her very essence, leaned toward him, drawn to him like the light to the moon.

  She drank in the sight of him, braced shoulders, rumbling kindness, invincible strength. She'd never met a man like him, he was one of a kind, he was the genuine article. Her heart swelled painfully, full of too much emotion.

  How was it possible to love a man so much?

  "I'm settling in just fine here, thanks for asking." He knuckled back his hat brim. "The bunkhouse is more than comfortable. I've got a nice big room. Furniture is new and the mattress is perfect."

  "I told you." Abe ambled through the rustling grass, surprising her. "You look happy. I take it you like my sister?"

  "Just like you said I would. Maybe more," Brennan added.

  "I'm pleased to hear that. In fact, I'm going to do you a favor and pay you a bonus."

  "A bonus?"

  "On top of what we agreed to."

  "But that amount is generous enough."

  "Still, it isn't easy putting up with Skye. She's at that difficult spinster age, according to our mother." He pulled an envelope out of his shirt pocket. "You've done a fine job so far. I still get a kick out of the way you fenced in the mustangs."

  "The secret was letting them get used to me." Brennan shrugged one shoulder, unable to resist the allure of that envelope. He took it, nice and thick. "I was happy to help Skye with some of her dreams for this place. What do you need me to do now?"

  "I'd like to see Skye happy and without a clue I had to buy her a husband." Abe's relief was palpable.

  "You didn't buy me for her. But you did need help with keeping her and her stallion safe."

  "However you want to see it is fine with me. I won't ever stop being grateful to you for taking my unmanageable sister off my hands."

  Brennan pocketed the envelope. "I'm happy to help. I worship Skye, and I want this land. Like I told you, this is my chance to get back what I lost. I'll be good to her."

  "I know you will. You're one of the best dang horse trainers I've ever seen anywhere. When you get a chance, mosey on uptown and visit the jeweler's for an engagement ring. She'll want something big and expensive and I want her happy."

  "I want her happy, too. Guess I'll see you bright and early in the morning?"

  "Yep, I've got plenty of things to keep me busy on my three hundred acres, but I'll ride on over around sunup. We'll get a good hard day's work in framing rafters and raising the roof. It feels good to have you here to help out and marry Skye for us. Even if I have to pay you."

  He meant to argue, set the record straight, but it wasn't untrue. Entirely. Abe knuckled back his hat, wished him good day and strode off to his waiting horse. Brennan couldn't begin to explain the upset twisting his stomach or the foreboding skidding down the back of his neck.

  Then he realized he wasn't alone. He glanced over his shoulder to see Skye staring at him, motionless, as if frozen in place.

  Tears stood in her eyes, and it wasn't just shock that had him hanging his head. It was the pain on her face, the pain he'd put there.

  She'd heard every word he'd said.

  Every word.

  23

  Brennan blew out a sigh, steeled his spine and felt the hope go right out of him. His world went dark, even though he blinked the sunlight from his eyes.

  "You heard that?" he asked.

  "As clear as a bell. You took money to romance me, and more money to marry me. How could you do that?" Her voice wavered, a thin and high note of pain. "Is that why you slept with me?"

  He witnessed the raw pain twist through her, leaving her looking half alive. How trusting she'd been in his arms in this bed, and his mind spun wildly trying to figure out how to stop her from hurting. How to keep it from shattering her. He had to protect her from that.

  He took a step forward, pitched his voice steadily and told her what was real. "You are not supposed to know about this. It was supposed to stay secret. But I can't lie to you. Yes, in a way, but also no."

  "That's the way to dodge the question. That's all you have to say?" She stared at him, paralyzed by shock, unable to reconcile the fact that he'd accepted money to trick her into loving him. And that her brother had paid him.

  "I'm sorry." He held up both hands in a helpless gesture, his chiseled face lined with pain. "I never wanted to hurt you."

  Hurt her? Silence settled between them as he waited to see what she would say next. Her jaw dropped and hurt sat on her tongue. Anger, too. He didn't even give her an explanation. Not even a drop of denial. Or a need to convince her of his innocence. And his apology simply did not feel like enough.

  She swiped her eyes, hating the tears that betrayed her by running down her cheeks. "What did you think would come of this? That you could just take a bonus from my brother and propose to me next? Trick me into marrying you?"

  He opened his mouth as if to say what was on his mind, but he stopped, rolled his eyes and closed his mouth. He looked extremely miserable. Maybe he was finally realizing the magnitude of what he'd shattered, which was her heart.

  He couldn't deny it. Her brother's words mocked her now, her crazy kind and wildly know-it-all brother, who always thought he was right. He was not! His words rolled back through her head. I'd like to see Skye happy and without a clue I had to buy her a husband.

  Buy me a husband! The pain ratcheted through her anew. She whirled around, unable to deal with him. He'd betrayed her so swift and sure, when she was the most vulnerable, still sated and damp and breathless from his supposed lovemaking.

  She'd never been hurt this much before, this deep in the heart and ever deeper in the soul. He really had hurt her the worst. What kind of man did that make him?

  The kind who a
greed to pretend to love her for money. She just couldn't see that kind of cold-heartedness in the man. Not in Brennan.

  She shivered, remembering the heat of his gentle touch on her bare skin and of the tenderness he loved her with? That was as real as the earth at her shoes. She'd made the mistake of lowering her guard with him, the one man she thought so good and true, above all others.

  How could I have been so wrong?

  "Move along, Mosley," she ordered, even though her voice wobbled and may have sounded more like a thin, high sound of pain instead of a command. "I am your boss, and I'm firing you. You have until the morning to find another place to sleep. And it won't be in my bed."

  She spun away before he could talk her out of it or weaken her resolve with his big, vulnerable eyes and his innate, irresistible charm. She felt the first rending deep in her heart, so fast and hard it left her reeling. She swayed, staggering blindly away from him, unable to breathe. As if she'd been sucker punched. She felt her tender heart crack right in two, sharp and agonizing as a fractured bone splintering into pieces, never to be the same again.

  She'd thought he'd loved her. She'd believed every warm rumbling bit of sweet-talk, every grin meant to charm her, every touch meant to convince her to care for him.

  She kept her back to him and kept walking. When she glanced over her shoulder, he was nothing but a blur through her tears. The loving warmth in his voice hurt worse than a dagger to her heart. Her knees threatened to go out and she wobble to a stop, fighting to stay upright and not sink to the ground in utter defeat and sorrow. Pure grief.

  The grass rustled, crackling beneath a boot print. His hand curled around her shoulder. His attempt to be soothing and gain her back.

  "I'm sorry, Skye." He genuinely sounded hurt and sincerely in pain. "Please forgive me. I need to tell you, that I haven't been honest all along. I told you that you would never be my boss. I should have told you from the start."

  "Oh, I see. Now it makes sense. You've been working for my brother all along." The betrayal was too much. Her words caught in her throat like a double-edged blade. She squeezed her eyes shut, full of pain. She drew in a shaky breath, felt the punch of realization that she'd been foolish all along, foolish to think that a kind, strong man would love her.

  Unable to say more, she walked away.

  "I'll keep an eye on Judson, too," he called after her. "I didn't take money to sleep with you. I didn't betray you."

  She was too hurt to listen and she knew it. She didn't look back. Broken, that's what she was, and the world passed by in a blur as she walked deliberately away from him. She stepped carefully, tears falling so hard they nearly blinded her. She wished the true Brennan, the face he'd shown her, the man she'd believed him to be, had been real.

  But he'd been out to take advantage. He'd lulled her into falling for him, she'd made love to him, a man who'd been hired to marry her. What had her brother been thinking? And who else in her family knew? What kind of man was Brennan to do such a thing to her? She'd done him no harm.

  Pain tore through her anew. But even as she thought it, her lack of logic did not seem right. It was not right at all. She wanted to cling to denial, if only there was a logical explanation because she did not want this to be true, or him to be a villain. She wanted to love him and wanted it with all her might. She needed to believe tenaciously that Brennan would never hurt her.

  But she had heard him with her own ears. I worship Skye, and I want this land. Like I told you, this is my chance to get back what I lost. I'll be good to her.

  A sob choked her, and she stopped mid-stride, tears blotting out the world. She fisted her hands, determined to fight off the remembrances of Brennan's tender kisses and touches, of the gentle way he'd loved her.

  But she couldn't. And there was no explanation, no logical way to hold onto that wild, deluded hope. He'd come here to take advantage, that was simply a fact.

  He'd accepted money to romance her and promised to give her an engagement ring. The tiny pieces of hope, of her belief in him, in her admiration for him crumbled to bits. And, like dust in the wind, blew away, leaving nothing at all.

  Except for the pain.

  She hurt so bad she missed the rustle of boot steps in the grass behind her until his imposing shadow fell across her again, blocking the sun and the wind.

  "Whew, you can really go fast when you've made up your mind to." He seemed to think mere words, warm and carrying a tone of both apology and good-natured humor, could stop her.

  He thought wrong. Her feet were already moving, her heart breaking more with every frantic beat. She had her pride. She couldn't let him know. Her chin went up. "I don't like to waste time with liars and deceivers."

  "Neither do I."

  "That's rich. Can you tell me I'm wrong about you?"

  "That's what I'm trying to do. We should be back in my room making this better." His voice, like silk, could intoxicate her, could charm her right back into his bed. "I never lied to you. Please keep that in mind. Your brother may have been joking."

  "You aren't telling me the truth, either." Her voice broke, in great pain. "I saw the envelope you took to marry me."

  How did he fix this? Could he? "The truth is simple. He was paying me."

  "I heard that, and I can't take that. I'm hurting enough. I don't need to be hurt any more. I've got the general idea."

  "I don't want to hurt you, Skye." The words ripped through him.

  "It's too late. I really do need you to leave, I'm sorry." She hurried past him, her pain palpable.

  He hung his head. It was over. Over. His chance for a new life. No matter what he did, he could not begin to fix this or explain the truth away. He watched her slip around the corner of the orchard and out of sight. He wanted to go to her, he wanted to fix it for her, but she'd been clear. It wasn't the ranch he was hoping to get back somehow, or the horse trainer way of life.

  It was her. How did he begin to tell her that? It had never been the money. Emotion paralyzed him, tears rolled into his eyes and he could never let her see him like this, him and his vulnerable, needy heart. Losing a future with her, full of her brightness and softness, was the most desolate pain he'd ever known.

  And he'd known desolation, sitting in a prison for three months, a hard labor quarry more specifically, where he'd lost hope. He'd had half of his bones broken when a dangerous prisoner doing hard time before his trial took a disliking to him, and had beat him unconscious.

  And his neighbor had kindly taken his property for a song since he'd been unable to care for his gorgeous and fledging horse farm. And that wasn't all he lost. Most people thought he was guilty and wanted nothing to do with him, so he'd lost every friend, every asset. Everything.

  If the local judge hadn't believed him and requested more information and investigation from the sheriff's office, then they never would have found the correct culprit and criminal, the rapist who had harmed more than one young lady and destroyed her in nearly every way. He had gotten away with it by framing another, like Brennan, who was entirely innocent, who would never harm a lady.

  And that's where I am, he thought, fractured to the very core. He hung his head and didn't hurt her more by going after her and trying to catch her again. But he was devastated beyond all hope by her heartbreak.

  Well, he couldn't fix it, so he would fix other things. All he could do was to remain true to his promise to her. Expect the worst outcome and hope for a better one. He'd hurt her and it was the last thing he intended.

  She'd given him the first real hope and kindness he'd had since the judge exonerated him. She'd gifted him with a happiness, and he owed her for it. More than he could ever repay.

  She needed the truth, and he would make sure she got it. But first he needed to make good on his greatest vow to her. It could not wait. He felt the tingle of premonition snake down the back of his spine. He turned his attention to the woods were shadows could hide a man with a gun.

  A man who'd likely seen the who
le thing. Brennan hung his head. Had this affection between him and Skye always been destined to fail? Had he only been deluding himself, and hoping he could slide by and grab hold of love and life again? He just wanted to spend more precious time with her, as much as he could.

  It's over, he reminded himself. He had to be tough enough and accept her decision. Accept the change in his life and the circumstance for it. The blame was on him. The fact was that he did have over five thousand dollars in his shirt pocket, and it hadn't been for the wrong reasons. Couldn't she see that? And if she couldn't, then they were indeed doomed.

  The back of his nape prickle again and he gazed out past the fields to the woods. Nope, there was no way to fix it. His hope to win her heart was over.

  He watched her walk up the steps and onto the porch. He kept going, needing the sight of her one last time, even if it was only the straight line of her back and the gentle movement of her arms and shoulders, reaching to tug the screen door open and slip indoors, out of sight, and out of his reach, once again.

  She hated him now and thought the worst of him, which could erase all good from the love they'd made, that whispered pleasure in his bed they'd shared, in the home he'd hoped to have. He'd wanted that wedding. What he'd had with her, tentative and new, was changed, rubbed out like chalk on a blackboard, leaving nothing in its wake.

  As if it had never been. There was no changing it. It was the only course, to walk away.

  His boots didn't want to leave, but he forced his feet to turn around and keep going. He had packing to do and his horse to saddle up. His heart twisted with pain as he stumbled down the path. His soul grew darker and his dreams faded each time he took a step.

  * * *

  Nothing, not one thing, could begin to break the storm of grief and shock and disbelief she felt. Evening came. Skye fed and stabled the horses with Samantha's help because Claude was still in town at the gambling tables in the saloon, and she wasn't about to go in there again to ask him to come help her.