Besotted in Branson: An At the Altar Story

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by Keira K. Barton




  Besotted in Branson

  An At the Altar Story

  Keira K. Barton

  Contents

  Keira K. Barton

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  Also by Keira K. Barton

  Copyright © 2019 by Keira K. Barton

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, including information storage and retrieval systems, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, write to the publisher, addressed “Attention: Permissions Coordinator,” at the address below.

  [email protected]

  www.keirakbarton.com

  This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Cover design by Erin Dameron-Hill/EDH Graphics

  Edited by Kristina Owings

  Printed in the United States of America.

  First printing edition 2019.

  Nothing is more important than the Firestone Ranch—that’s what Tim Roberts always thought. But when his boss passes away, surrounded by a family who loved him, Tim realizes he’ll die alone if he keeps on this path. At fifty-years old, with no suitable prospects, he turns to a purple-haired matchmaker hoping she can find him the love of his life.

  When Susan Cooper’s husband dies unexpectedly, the life she and her boys knew crumbles to dust. When she finds out she’s pregnant, she’s thrilled—but crippling morning sickness and mandated bedrest keep her from overseeing her ranch. On the verge of losing everything, she turns to a marriage-on-demand service, hoping to find someone she can trust.

  The arrangement is strictly business. There will be no falling in love…only she can’t seem to imagine her life without him.

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  Keira K. Barton

  For a complete list of Keira K. Barton’s books, or to sign up for her newsletter, visit

  www.keirakbarton.com

  For Amy, Tim, and the beautiful family you’ve created together.

  Prologue

  When Tim Roberts drove his truck away from the ranch, he shuddered as he went under the arch that read Firestone Falls. He felt like a small piece of his heart was dying and sloughing off from the rest. He’d spent over half of his life on here, and he wasn’t sure how he’d handle it when the fact that he wouldn’t be coming back—at least not to be part of it as he once had—sank in.

  His friend and mentor of almost thirty years, Thomas Firestone V, had passed away a week before, and now Tim was abruptly leaving for Missouri. He worried about leaving Tommy’s six daughters to take over all the ranch work with no help, but they were capable women. And as beautiful as they were, he was sure they’d have men lining up to help them out.

  “You all right, Tim?” asked Jim Bob, one of the five ranch hands Tim was taking to Missouri with him

  “I’m great, Bob.” Tim wasn’t thrilled about making the thousand-mile trip with one of his guys. He would have much rather been alone to think about his upcoming wedding to a woman he’d never seen before, but Jim Bob was the only hand without a vehicle. The poor guy had specifically asked Tim if he could ride with him as opposed to one of the other guys, because they liked to tease him about not having his driver’s license, so Tim felt obligated to say yes.

  “Great? Really? I mean, I’m a little sad to be leaving Firestone Falls and I’ve only been here for a few years. Are you sure you’re great? You look a little down to me, but that could just be the—”

  “Woah, there. Just slow down now.” Tim shook his head. He didn’t know if he had the patience to sit through Jim Bob’s incessant ramblings. “I’m great because I’m going to marry a woman who’s perfect for me, according to the expert matchmaker I hired. Despite how sad I am about leaving this place behind, I’m happy about the wedding.”

  Jim Bob nodded. “I see, I see. That makes sense. I guess I’d be great too if there was a woman out there who’d agreed to marry me sight unseen.”

  Tim didn’t even bother holding back his laugh since it echoed Bob’s. Despite all of his shortcomings, Bob was self-aware. He loved making jokes about his own unfortunate situation. Not only was he a little short on common sense, he’d also managed to sever two of his fingers while helping his dad butcher a pig when he was fifteen, and he wasn’t usually the most handsome guy in the room. He had a heart of gold, though, and Tim had never regretted hiring him. Bob was the hardest worker he’d ever had on his staff.

  “Yeah,” Tim agreed. “I’d imagine that would make you pretty happy. Maybe you should talk to Dr. Lachele about getting yourself a wife.” What he didn’t say was that he wondered if Dr. Lachele would even take Bob as a client. He was great in many ways, but he came from a long line of Jim Bobs who weren’t exactly full of foresight. Bob had never gone to college, or sought out a better job than being a ranch hand. Tim didn’t know how he’d be able to take care of a woman.

  Bob looked out the window with a dreamy look in his eyes. “I just might do that,” he said.

  Tim hoped daydreaming about his future bride would be enough to keep Bob occupied for at least another twenty minutes. He needed peace and quiet so he could sort through his feelings and prepare to meet his bride at the altar. He still couldn’t quite wrap his head around the fact that he wouldn’t even know her name until the preacher, or whoever was marrying them, said it. The last thing he wanted was to look like a deer in the headlights as his future wife walked down the aisle.

  While Bob was quiet, Tim took a moment to imagine what she might look like. He knew little about his bride-to-be, except that she was about to lose her late husband’s cattle ranch and needed help. He also knew that she had three kids—Dr. Lachele had to make sure he was okay with becoming a father before she set the wedding date. Other than those two tidbits though, Dr. Lachele wouldn’t tell him anything. Not her age, height, weight—not even her sign.

  Even if he did know her sign, Tim wouldn’t know what that meant. He’d never understood astrology or the appeal people found in it, but since he was about to marry a complete stranger, he’d consider anything that might tell him more about her.

  “Do you think this marriage is gonna work?” Tim asked Bob after several minutes passed. He had no idea why he was asking Bob’s opinion, but reassurance from another person—even a Jim Bob—sounded nice.

  Bob shrugged. “Do you want it to work?”

  “Of course, I do.”

  “Then I don’t see why not,” Bob said, rubbing the back of his neck. “As long as the woman you’re marrying wants it to work too, that’s all you really need. Marriage isn’t magical. It’s just a choice. It’s two willing people choosing each other over and over again, every day.”

  “Well, now, if it isn’t Jim Bob Higgins III spouting off some golden nuggets of wisdom about marriage. Where’d you come up with that?”
Tim asked, honestly impressed.

  “Uh—I think I heard it on Dr. Phil once. Or maybe it was Oprah. I don’t remember,” Bob said.

  Tim chuckled. Of course.

  One

  Susan Cooper kept glancing in the rearview mirror on the way to the chapel. She couldn’t help it. Her two precious sons, Cody and Adin, sat in the backseat innocently playing rock-paper-scissors. It was so easy to become an emotional mess when they were like this. When they were quiet and calm, Susan’s heart opened up. Usually inhibited by the impatience and overwhelm she felt when they were fighting and arguing, her grief surfaced when it was peaceful.

  She felt tears brimming in her eyes as she caught glimpses of Cody’s smile, or Adin’s determined expression. Those boys would always be a reminder of her past. Their faces would forever serve as portals into a world that was long gone, constant reminders of the love she’d lost when her husband passed away four months prior. Between them and the burgeoning life inside of her womb, Susan felt like she’d never move past her husband’s death.

  Even as the thoughts came, it was still hard for Susan to remember that Clarence was gone sometimes. She found herself thinking these same thoughts on the way home from the grocery store, just to forget again and set four plates at dinner instead of three. It didn’t make any sense, but she was living in a constant contradiction of missing Clarence so much it hurt, and not even realizing he was gone.

  “Mom, is your new husband going to look like Dad?” Adin asked. He was eleven and curious. He asked her approximately a million questions per day, but this one was harder to answer than most.

  “I don’t know, honey.” The exasperation in her tone not hiding behind her faux cheeriness as well as she would have liked.

  Cody snorted. “How do you not know what he looks like?”

  “It doesn’t matter what he looks like. The only thing that matters is that he’s going to save the ranch,” Susan explained. She hadn’t talked to the boys a lot about what had been going on, but they were old enough to catch conversations here and there and piece things together.

  It was actually a conversation with Cody that had prompted Susan to contact Dr. Lachele. At the beginning of April, just as their little corner of the world commenced its annual thaw from the bitter cold winter, Cody had come to her and asked if they were going to lose the ranch. It was the most difficult conversation she’d ever had with one of her children. It almost killed her to look her thirteen-year-old boy in the eyes and tell him that their future wasn’t secure, and the only home he’d ever known might not be their home for much longer. After that, Susan knew she needed to do something, and she needed to do it fast.

  That night when Linda called to see how she’d been doing since Clarence’s funeral, she fell apart on the phone. Linda had been so sweet to listen to all of her worries about their future, and how she just couldn’t go one more day without help. After Susan spilled her guts, Linda offered one suggestion—contact Dr. Lachele. Apparently her son Andrew had used Matchrimony to find a wife, and they were blissfully happy. Andrew’s friend Beau, who lived in Nevada, had also found love with the service, along with every other couple this Dr. Lachele lady had brought together.

  So, at her friend’s recommendation, Susan had signed up for Matchrimony. Her interview with Dr. Lachele had been thorough, and she had all the faith in the world that the slightly crazed, purple-haired woman would find the right man for the job. Because that’s what this arrangement was. It was a big job that was going to require a smart, capable ranch manager to handle.

  Susan had explained to Dr. Lachele the mess she was in with the ranch since her husband died expecting her judgement, but it was clear the woman wasn’t interested in looking down on Susan, only helping her. It took a while for Susan to see that Dr. Lachele truly understood no one could have prepared her for the grief she’d feel when her other half died, or the fear that consumed her when she realized she was carrying his child after he was already in the ground. Not to mention the complications she’d faced with this pregnancy already.

  Dr. Lachele had listened carefully as Susan told her how big of a failure she felt she was, and how she thought she’d let her boys down. The sweet doctor had held her while she cried, then reassured her that some burdens were too heavy to carry alone. She’d made Susan feel like a real person again for the first time since Clarence died, and from that moment on this decision had felt right.

  Susan carefully pulled their truck into a parking space near the side door of the church. “All right, boys. Gather up the books and games you brought. You’ll be waiting in the chapel for a while before the wedding starts. Cynthia is going to be helping me get ready in the bride’s room, so if you need anything you come find me in there.”

  “Can we go play on the playground?” Adin asked.

  Susan looked at the boys’ hair, which she’d nicely combed before they’d left the house. She’d been smart enough to know she shouldn’t let them put their dress clothes on yet, but she was wondering if she said yes to Adin’s plea if she’d have to convince them to shower again. “Will you keep yourselves looking presentable?”

  Cody and Adin both nodded emphatically. “Yes, ma’am.”

  Clarence had taught their sons to always address their mother respectfully, and right now Susan was grateful. She didn’t need to fight them today, on top of everything else. “All right. Don’t disappoint me.”

  Disappointment was a stretch. Mostly, Susan didn’t have the energy to make them clean up again. Even though the doctor had taken her off bed rest, the crippling morning sickness was still plaguing her, though now that she was in her second trimester, the fatigue had eased considerably.

  “We won’t!” the boys called in unison as they took off around the building toward the playground that was just out of sight.

  Besides the pastor, Susan was the only one in the building. Cynthia wasn’t there yet, which was great because Susan suddenly felt like she was going to hurl. She dropped the garment bag with her dress, and the duffle bag with her makeup and other things, on the ground in the middle of the foyer and bolted toward the women’s restroom.

  “I was wondering where those went,” Susan said as she entered the bride’s room. When she’d come out of the restroom, her stuff was missing, but she could see Cynthia’s car parked right next to her truck through the exterior glass door, so she wasn’t worried.

  “Yeah. I figured you didn’t want to leave it in the foyer for everyone to trip over. Was there anything else in the car you need me to grab?” Cynthia was looking in the mirror and using a pick comb to fluff her hair while she snapped her gum rapidly.

  “Nope. I’ve got everything I need right here,” Susan said, picking up the black duffle bag. She set it on top of the counter in front of the mirror and riffled through it looking for the spearmint gum she’d packed in there. Cynthia’s snapping had reminded her of it, and she definitely needed a piece after tossing her cookies in the women’s restroom. Pregnancy is so glamorous.

  After she shoved a piece of gum in her mouth, Susan plopped down in a chair, splaying her legs out and taking a deep breath. “I don’t know if I’m up for this. I have to look pretty. I haven’t tried to look pretty since before Clarence passed.”

  “Oh, pish posh. You don’t have to try to look pretty, Susan. You are pretty. Really, you should be above that self-doubt crap by now. You’re in your forties. It’s time you learned to embrace who you are, and love yourself,” Cynthia scolded.

  Susan smiled. Her friend was loving, if not a little overbearing sometimes. “I love myself. Most of the time. And when I don’t it has nothing to do with how I look, more how I behave. I just meant I don’t know if I’m up for impressing people today. I should want to impress my new husband, shouldn’t I?”

  “How am I supposed to know? I’ve never married a stranger before.” Cynthia’s words stung, and Susan flinched a little as they landed on her still-raw heart.

  “No, I guess not.” Susan said
plainly.

  As if just realizing what she said, Cynthia rushed over and put her arm around Susan. “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be rude. Are you sure about this though, Suze? I’m worried about you.”

  Susan sat up straight and shrugged Cynthia’s arm off. “I’m sure, Cynthia. I’ve told you a million times. I need the help.”

  “I know, I know. But how many times have I offered to help you? You have friends. You don’t need to get married to get help,” Cynthia insisted.

  “I don’t have ‘friends.’ I have you. And no offense, but you aren’t the most business-savvy person I know. What do you even know about running a cattle ranch?” Susan asked.

  “Well I run a hair salon, and despite what you think, it’s hard work. They’re both businesses, aren’t they? What could be so different?” Cynthia asked.

  “The fact that you just asked that question speaks volumes. Besides, Dr. Lachele told me he is bringing replacement hands since all of ours bailed.”

  Cynthia shrugged. “Do you blame them? They showed up every day even when you missed pay day twice, but they couldn’t wait for you to pay them forever. A couple of them had little kids, Suze.”

  “No, I don’t blame them at all. I just couldn’t—” Susan’s emotions were getting the best of her again, and she felt her throat tighten around another lump forming to remind her how sad she still was. She had completely fallen apart when Clarence passed. She’d let bills go unpaid, workers go unpaid, supplies go unordered. She had barely been able to get her kids fed, and that was all before she found out she was pregnant and put on bedrest.

 

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