The Cowboy is a Daddy

by Mindy Neff

Moe leaned over the baby—who was between them on the pew. “There’s plenty of time for jawin’, but the good Lord’s house ain’t one of them. And it ain’t rightly none of my business, but if the two of you keep givin’ the other those cow eyes, there’ll be talk from here to Montana.”

  Brice leaned forward, resting his arm on Maddie’s lap, so he could speak to his friend. She held her breath, trying not to respond to the warmth of that innocent contact.

  “There’ll be plenty to talk about, anyway, after the wedding today.”

  “The what!” Moe’s shout rang like a cowbell in the church.

  Everyone stopped and stared. Maddie slid lower in her seat. Moe’s ears turned bright red, and he gave apologetic nods to several parishioners. Brice calmly leaned back in his seat, this time speaking softly over her head.

  “Madison and I are getting married after church services. I’d be happy if you’d stand as my best man.”

  “Ya might’a given me a little more warning about this shindig,” Moe whispered. “And ’course I’ll be standin’ up fer ya.” He gave a jerky nod, rocked the infant seat a couple of times to make sure his outburst hadn’t disturbed the baby, then reached over and patted Maddie on the shoulder. “Well, that’s just fine. Yep, that’ll be real fine.”

  A group of women sat down in front of them, a young brunette in a fancy Western skirt and embroidered blouse pausing to bestow a beaming smile on Brice. She barely glanced at Maddie and gave a small frown in the baby’s direction.

  Madison bristled.

  Evidently, Moe did, too.

  “This ain’t no dance social, Miss Adeline, and it’s pure sacrilege to be flirtin’ in the church house. B’sides, the boy’s off the market. It’s his weddin’ day.”

  Adeline’s dark, perfectly arched brows shot up, and her expression fell. This time she did look at Maddie, and Maddie stared right back, thankful she was wearing her contact lenses and not the thick glasses. It gave her a small measure of confidence—never mind that her skirt wasn’t zipped all the way. Clearly, Adeline’s waistline was less than twenty-four inches. Maddie despised the woman on that point alone.

  “You’re getting married, Brice?” Her voice carried.

  Madison nearly groaned. They’d agreed to a quiet affair after everyone was gone.

  There weren’t more than thirty people in the church, but every head, it seemed, turned in their direction.

  Brice casually slipped an arm across Madison’s shoulders.

  “As a matter of fact, we are.”

  The pastor was about to call for a hymn and begin his welcome, but chaos ensued. People left their seats, determined to congratulate, to plan, to express opinions and ask questions.

  Introductions and handshakes and hugs were passed out like a long-awaited gathering at a family reunion. No one judged or looked askance—except for Adeline. They accepted both Maddie and the wedding news with enthusiasm and welcome.

  Maddie was unsure what to say or how to act. She’d never been part of a community before, never had a family to call her own.

  Not that she actually had one now.

  “Well,” Pastor Glen said, chuckling. “We’re not at the greeting-your-neighbor part, but a little variety in the routine is good.”

  Madison noticed the pastor sharing a look with Brice, noticed Brice’s slight nod.

  Her eyes widened. She got a bad feeling. “What was that about?” she whispered, her voice hissing.

  The preacher answered her question.

  “We’ve got a special event going on this morning. Most of you seem to have caught wind of the DeWitt wedding. I’m thinking since you all are completely out of order and in a festive mood, we’ll just have the ceremony now instead of the sermon. There’s nothing more uplifting than joining two people together in the house of God.”

  Oh, Lord. Now she felt really guilty.

  Lying in church for the sake of expediency—or safety.

  Promising to love, honor and cherish until death do they part—especially in light of the fact that they’d already discussed an annulment in three months’ time.

  Then another thought careened out of nowhere.

  Didn’t an annulment mean an unconsummated union?

  For three months she would have to look at this man, live with him, and not have sex?

  Oh, Madison, stop it. You’re in church, for crying out loud. That line of thinking was surely inappropriate.

  The crowd moved along to take their seats. Several of the ladies offered to mind the baby, which sparked a brief tussle with Moe until it was pointed out that he’d be needed to stand up for Brice.

  Nancy Adams finally won the honor of holding the baby.

  “Careful with the neck if you go takin’ her out of the seat,” Moe lectured.

  Nancy laughed. “I’m a nurse, Moe Bertelli. I think I can manage.”

  “Humph,” was all he said and herded Maddie and Brice out of the pew.

  It was the weirdest ceremony Maddie had ever seen. As she made her way up the aisle at Brice’s side, additional introductions to her neighbors were being made.

  Strange to get married and not even know who was on the guest list.

  But she knew Brice, or felt like she’d known him all her life. Looking at him made her knees go weak.

  “You okay with this, sunshine? You can back out if you want.”

  “No. I’m fine.” Or would be if he’d stop looking at her that way. He wore a saddle-suede blazer and dark brown pants with a piped, chocolate-colored Western shirt. The silver slide on his braided leather bolo tie matched the silver buckle on his belt.

  Knowing she shouldn’t be looking at his belt—especially in church—she lowered her eyes even farther. Ostrich-skin boots the color of cognac were polished to a sheen, and she imagined the bottoms of those expensive puppies had never seen the soil of a cow pen.

  He passed his dark brown hat to Moe for safekeeping.

  “Flowers,” Letty Springer said, popping out of her seat. “We can’t have a bride without flowers.” She plucked an arrangement of silk roses out of a vase by the altar, snatched a light blue ribbon right out of her daughter’s hair and tied a perfect bow in a matter of seconds.

  Maddie was impressed.

  Letty wasn’t happy with the results, though. “I’d thought to get ‘borrowed and blue’ all in one whack, but it hardly shows up.”

  Brice reached in his coat pocket and pulled out a blue silk bandanna. “Try this.”

  “Oh, perfect,” Letty said. She tied the bandanna into a fluffy bow around the stems of the silk roses. “There you go, darlin’. It picks up the color in your sweater very nicely. And a girl shouldn’t be so rushed and put on the spot on her wedding day. This will make it feel more festive.”

  Maddie was touched. “Thank you, Letty.”

  “Don’t even mention it. Since your Mama’s not here to see to the little details, I’m honored to do my part.” Maddie nearly lost her battle with her emotions then. She’d never let herself dream about a fairy-tale wedding with all the trimmings, much less having a mother there to fuss.

  This spur-of-the-moment affair, in this little community church with its friendly people was ten times better than the fairy tale.

  She looked at the impromptu bouquet in her hands, thinking it was the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen. Brice’s silk bandanna brushed her fingers, giving her a semblance of calm.

  Brice touched her cheek, searching her eyes. Her gaze clung to his. He made her want, made her forget all about her fears and worries. He made her feel safe.

  And he made her yearn for this to be a real marriage.

  “Ready?” he asked softly.

  “More than ready.” She saw his brows lift, saw the amusement in his deep blue eyes. Heat burned her cheeks, and her palms went damp around the soft plastic stems of the roses.

  Pastor Glen gave a joyous laugh that invited participation. “Looks like we’d better get this ceremony moving along.”

  Ma
ddie ducked her head, determined to conduct herself with a little more decorum. She was looking at Brice like a starving cougar at a cattlemen’s feast. And he was looking back in much the same way. At least it appeared that way. Added to that the fact there was a baby present, before nuptials had even been completed, she felt more like a sinner in church than a bride.

  “Is there someone to give you away, Miss Carlyle?” the preacher asked.

  Maddie opened her mouth to say no, thinking that she’d been given away years ago by a father who’d never even looked back and a mother who could care less.

  Moe shuffled his feet. “I reckon that’d be me—if it ain’t against the rules to do double duty, bein’ the best man and all. And if it’s okay with you, Miss Maddie.”

  She nodded, and there really were tears this time, tears that Brice noticed and gently brushed away with a callused thumb.

  “All right, then,” the pastor said. “If the bride and groom would join hands and face each other, we’ll proceed in joining you together in holy matrimony.”

  There were sighs from the people in the church, a sniff or two as ladies dabbed at tears, and Abbe even got her two cents’ worth in by letting out a burp that echoed within the church walls and sent the congregation into chuckles.

  But Maddie hardly knew what was being said, what she was saying in return. It was all a blur. There was only Brice: his strong hands holding hers, his gaze steady and intense and so unreadable.

  When the preacher prompted him, he produced a ring and slipped it on her finger. She was stunned.

  Staring at the braided circle of silver which was a perfect fit and signified unbroken eternity, Maddie completely missed her cue to say “I do.”

  It was the sudden silence in the church and Brice’s slight squeeze of her hand that alerted her to the oversight.

  “Miss Carlyle?” Pastor Glen prompted.

  ‘‘Oh, yes. I do.” The words were filled with more meaning than was warranted for this particular ceremony.

  And it was at that moment that Maddie realized something very important and earthshaking.

  She really meant the words.

  She was in love with Brice DeWitt.

  In love with his gentleness, his ethics, his heart that he guarded so carefully—in love with the man as a whole.

  Lord above, what a mess. That wasn’t part of the bargain.

  “By the powers vested in me by God and the State of Wyoming, I now pronounce you man and wife. Brice, you may kiss your bride.”

  This was the part that was going to be tricky, Brice thought. She was looking at him with wide, cornflower blue eyes filled with emotions he couldn’t define. When he placed a hand at the small of her back and urged her closer, he nearly groaned. Her heat scorched him. Her lips, when he bent his head to seal the bargain, were soft and warm and welcoming, if a little timid.

  And all the while, their eyes remained open, locked in a silent communication of want and need and wariness.

  For the space of several heartbeats, his mind went blank of every thought. All he could do was feel—and want even more.

  And he felt a little like a hypocrite.

  They were simply sealing a bargain, a formal extension of the prenuptial paper she’d signed last night. She hadn’t even hesitated when he’d presented the faxed document to her. There was no reason why that immediate compliance should have given him such a punch in the heart. It was what he’d wanted, what he’d requested.

  This wasn’t a real marriage.

  And that, basically, was the problem. Everything in his life seemed to be temporary—the cows were temporary until they were sold at the market, the ranch hands were temporary until they moved on to the next spread, his dad had been temporary until death, his mother and ex-wife only biding time until they could stand it no longer and left.

  How long would it be before Madison left? And could he keep his heart intact until then?

  He’d have to. Everything in his life came and went like nodding acquaintances met on the road. Everything except the land. That’s the only attachment he could allow himself. He wouldn’t allow Madison and Abbe to take a piece of him when they left. Because he would never recover.

  He felt her hand slide up his jacket, rest over his heart, and he wanted to go on kissing her for a lifetime.

  He stepped back instead.

  The congregation clapped, not realizing the turmoil that swirled in his gut as he stared down at his new wife.

  His temporary wife.

  8

  The day had been a long one, with the church folks insisting on turning the usual Sunday potluck into a reception in celebration of the wedding. Then Letty Springer had opened the store so Madison could get a supply of baby formula and toiletries.

  By the time they got home, Madison was looking worn and frazzled and Brice was more high-strung than a wild bronc at a rodeo.

  The details of a wedding night hadn’t been part of their sealed bargain, but he was sure thinking about them.

  And if he’d stayed in the house one more second, smelled the delicate scent of her perfume, felt the brush of her soft breasts as she reached past him to prepare Abbe’s bottle, he very likely would have done something he’d sorely regret.

  So he ended up in the bunkhouse on his wedding night, playing a game of poker with the men—who were giving both him and his black mood a wide berth.

  From the open window came the relentless sound of Abbe’s cries.

  “Young’un’s been at it for a while now,” Moe commented.

  Brice didn’t answer. He had a pair of deuces in his hand and nothing to go with it. He tossed down three cards and Moe dealt him the appropriate number in return.

  “Heard tell some babies get a bellyache when you take ’em out in the wind,” Dan commented, upping the ante in the pot.

  “Humph,” Moe muttered. “It was all them ladies passin’ the little bit around like she was a baby doll.”

  Brice still didn’t comment.

  Abbe’s pitiful cries continued, carried along by the wind. He picked up his cards. Two ladies and another deuce.

  Full house.

  Yeah, he certainly had that. A wife and baby and full house.

  And that baby was sounding like she was dying of a broken heart. And what about Madison? When he’d left her, she’d looked completely done in.

  “Call,” Randy said, the only one of the foursome who wasn’t looking toward the house and pretending that he wasn’t.

  Brice tossed his cards on the table. “I’m out.” Never mind that there was fifty bucks in the pot and he could have won hands down.

  Randy whooped over winning with a measly pair of sixes.

  Moe shot the younger man a scowl.

  “What?” Randy asked, clearly bewildered. “My sixes beat anything the rest of you’ve got.”

  “Cain’t you hear that little baby cryin’? You know, for a feller who could track a gnat in a blizzard, you sure can be dense,” Moe said.

  Brice scraped back his chair and stood. “I’d better go check on them.”

  “Probably should,” Moe said with a relieved look. “’Spect I’ll just walk on over and keep ya company. I got a hankerin’ for a cup of chocolate.”

  Dan rose, fell into step. “Come to think of it, chocolate sounds good to me, too.”

  Randy, stuffing money into his pockets, grabbed his hat and followed, clearly surprised that everyone was deserting him.

  Brice told himself it was the cold air that made his ground-eating steps brisk. It wasn’t because he was worried about Madison and the baby.

  His family.

  Something fluttered in his stomach, and it felt like hope. He dismissed it.

  When he opened the back door, the decibel level of noise was earsplitting. How could something that little make so much racket?

  Madison was sweating, and the kitchen window, normally ajar, was pushed wide-open. No wonder they’d been able to hear the cries so easily.

  She glan
ced up, and he could have sworn he saw tears in her eyes. He moved to her, gazed down at the unhappy baby in her arms, touched the backs of his fingers to Madison’s cheek. Was it just that his hands were cold or was she running a fever?

  “You look like you could use a break.”

  “I don’t know what’s wrong with her. Do you think I should call the doctor?”

  If he wasn’t mistaken, Madison needed a doctor more than the baby did. “Let me take a turn with her first.”

  He lifted the baby from her arms, feeling the usual softening when he held her, though he still felt awkward, as though his big hands would crush the little thing.

  “Here, now, princess. What’s all the fuss?”

  At the sound of his voice, Abbe’s wail tapered to a snuffle. He felt proud and smug.

  Madison obviously didn’t appreciate his smugness. “Now why wouldn’t she do that for me?”

  He searched her features, saw the utter weariness in her eyes, the flags of color on her cheeks. “You’re running a fever, aren’t you.”

  She shrugged. “Probably from the tail end of this infection.”

  “Why don’t you go on to bed. Between the four of us,” he indicated Moe, Dan and Randy with a nod, “we can hold down the fort with the baby.”

  “I’m not so sure. She’s in a mood.”

  “Boss’s right, Miss Maddie,” Moe said. “You jest get yourself some rest. I done a good job of holding the young’un before. You can trust us not to let the neck flop or nothing.”

  At the mention of necks, Brice checked to make sure he had it supported properly.

  “She probably needs changing,” Maddie hedged. The four men hovered, looking out of place and scared to death—though they were making a brave show otherwise.

  She found it interesting how these cowboys were all bluff. They portrayed rough, tough guys, yet every head turned when the baby was around, and it was so obvious that softer emotions emerged—even though they made comical efforts to hide them.

  And Brice was the most interesting of all. He tried so hard to appear detached, yet she’d seen the way he touched Abbe, the way he looked at her with such profound yearning. More than once she’d caught him making goofy faces at the baby when nobody was looking.