When the Cowboy said “I Do”

by Crystal Green

  Dean, the youngest, had deep green eyes, plus a darker shade of blond hair, which was clipped more closely to his head than the others. “You’re acting like you didn’t think we’d have any kind of reaction to this news.”

  “I expected maybe a congratulations and a hug,” Holly said. “Not a stampede.”

  Nick was the stockiest of the lot, just like a bull who had it in mind to perhaps run a new member of the family over.

  “What’s this all about, Bo?” he asked.

  Although Bo suspected he was only moments away from getting the tar beat out of him, he didn’t overreact. Hell, he didn’t even have much of a chance to say anything before Holly went toe-to-toe with Nick.

  “Just calm down and stop embarrassing me,” she said.

  Every one of the brothers seemed to go red to some degree or another.

  Bo stepped in. “Listen, we’ll sort this out. After all, you men know me. Am I the type who’d set out to corrupt Holly, especially knowing I’d have you to contend with?”

  Hollis frowned. “I recall a Bo Clifton who seemed to enjoy quite a bit of female companionship in the past, and I’m not sure I like that he’s enjoyed my sister.”

  All the brothers had probably heard about his track record. It wasn’t that Bo was a tomcat, exactly. It was just that…

  Well, he was still young, and he’d never really intended to settle down. Hadn’t made a secret of that either.

  Behind them, the doors opened, and Rose Friedel walked into the lobby, her bobbed gray hair as sleek as her deep purple suit. She tapped that watch of hers and headed toward the elk sculpture, where they were to meet Mark Anderson, who owned The Thunder Canyon Nugget and had taken it upon himself to report this particular story—a headline grabber.

  “I’ll tell you what,” Bo said to the brothers. “I’ve got an appointment right now, and it won’t take but an hour. Why don’t you three meet me at the lounge then? I’ll answer any questions you have. And open up a bar tab while you’re at it—it’s all on me.”

  Holly gave Bo a glance that told him she would do damage control until he got there.

  He braved the wrath of the Pritchett boys and rested a hand on her shoulder. He’d only meant to give her another one of those charade-driven, loving looks he’d bestowed on her out at the rally, but this time…

  This time he found himself doing it with real feeling.

  Eyes so blue that he felt himself falling into the wells of them…

  Just as Bo’s blood began to bubble in his veins, Nick took it upon himself to interrupt, his tone much milder than it’d been previously.

  “All right, Bo,” he said. “We’ll be waiting for you there.”

  With some difficulty, Bo pulled his gaze away from Holly to see that the brothers were watching him with odd expressions. Confusion, which would surely lead to understanding once Bo took up where this look had left off and assured them of his “feelings” for Holly.

  As the Pritchett boys headed for the lounge upstairs, Bo thought that he and his bride had cleared this latest obstacle pretty well.

  “I hope you brought ketchup,” Holly said when her brothers were out of earshot.

  “What?”

  “They want to eat you alive, so you might as well dish yourself up properly.”

  “Nah.” Across the lobby, which wasn’t nearly as filled with guests as it’d been in the good old days, Rose was greeting Mark Anderson. “If your brothers were going to kill me, they’d have just done it right here.”

  “I’ll stay during your meeting with them so no one—not even Nick and his hot head—will mess with you.”

  She looked so protective of him now, with her hands fisted at her sides. It tweaked something in Bo, but he passed it off as gratefulness for her loyalty.

  “Though I appreciate it,” he said, “I’ve got it handled.”

  Holly let out a long sigh, as if she was just as exasperated with him as she’d been yesterday, when he’d first approached her with this whole business. She glanced around the lobby, her gaze landing near the fireplace, where Erika Rodriguez had come inside to visit with Erin Castro, whom most people considered to be the town’s woman of mystery. Bo didn’t know her well, but he’d heard that she’d moved here recently, and had just been hired on as a permanent receptionist by the resort.

  His political instincts went into overdrive. Maybe he would speak to Rose about asking Erin Castro to be a part of his campaign—a newcomer who’d appreciated Thunder Canyon so much that she’d decided to stay. She was the perfect example of what this town needed to do—attract more people, build itself up again.

  Then Dillon Traub joined Erika and Erin, bringing them each a paper cup of coffee. Erika kissed her new fiancé on the cheek, and they stared into each other’s eyes for a moment that seemed to span an eternity.

  Love, Bo thought. That’s what it truly looked like.

  But what would happen on down the line, after they’d lived with each other for years? After they’d both changed, just as his parents had done?

  And how would it be between them when their differences became so pronounced that they couldn’t stand one another anymore…?

  Because that’s what love was to Bo—maybe it was real for a time, but it would never last.

  Holly stirred next to him. From the thoughtful expression she wore, she’d been keying in on Erika and Dillon, too.

  Was she thinking that she was watching two people who’d genuinely found their soulmates? That she wished it’d been that way for her with the father of her baby?

  Anger at the man—or less than a man—dogged Bo. He wanted to wring that Alan’s neck for messing with Holly and stranding her child.

  But Bo was going to make up for it.

  He touched Holly’s cheek. It was still a little cold from being outside, and he wished he could be enough to warm it.

  When she flushed, as if his touch meant more than he’d intended, he lowered his hand.

  What had he been thinking?

  She moved away from him, heading toward the stairs and the lounge, where her brothers were waiting. “I’ll keep the boys at bay for now and leave you alone with them when you get there.”

  He gave her his trustworthy grin. “After you go, I’ll be off to campaign headquarters. I’ll call from there to let you know I survived.”

  “No, I think I’ll come by, just to see you with my own eyes.” She stuck her hands into her coat pockets. “Besides, we’ve got a lot more to talk about.”

  Indeed. Wedding plans and beyond.

  And it seemed as if every bit of it had already started to fill her head while she smiled, almost as if to herself. Then she gave him a tiny wave before she went to the lounge.

  Bo watched her go, enjoying her walk, her sense of grace that made her stand out even in a room full of people.

  Then he continued his campaign, heading toward the reporter.

  Holly arrived at town square a couple hours later, shortly before sunset. She walked to an abandoned storefront, the old sign that still read Dilly’s hovering over a temporary banner that practically shouted Bo’s campaign mantra.

  He’d set up shop in a former drugstore where everyone used to go for malts until the economy had forced an early retirement on Tucker and Addie Dillinger. Inside, the marble counters still remained intact, though they were now covered with pamphlets that volunteers put together as they sat on the stools. In red-upholstered booths, more Bo Believers talked on cell phones to constituents who needed some convincing that Bo was their man. Emptied shelves held posters, signs, hats and T-shirts.

  Holly discovered Bo in a glassed-in, closed-door office near the back of the place, where he huddled with Rose behind an old desk. He and his campaign manager looked like polar opposites—Bo with his cowboy gear, Rose dressed in a crisp business suit and her get-to-the-point sophisticated bob.

  Holly knocked on the door, and they glanced up from the laptop computer they’d been using.

  Bo smiled,
and it was the same as always—as if he’d reserved a certain happiness for her and her only.

  Right.

  “There she is,” he said once she’d entered the room.

  “Hi.” A whole flock of hummingbirds had taken wing in her stomach, fluttering like mad.

  She ignored that, holding up a writing notebook she’d brought with her. “Ready to get down to it?”

  Rose stretched her lean arms above her head. Holly could almost imagine her wheeling and dealing and darting around at the PR firm she’d been said to work at before Bo had recruited this family friend.

  “Wedding plans?” she asked Holly.

  “I thought it’d be a good idea to get on them as soon as possible.”

  “You bet.” Rose wandered away from Bo. “We were just wrapping up for the day.”

  Holly slid into a chair in front of the desk. She felt the brush of Bo’s gaze all over her, and she wished he would stop it. They didn’t have to playact so much in front of Rose—Bo had sent her a text message last night telling Holly that his campaign manager knew everything.

  As the older woman went to the door, she said, “I like the notion of a Wild West themed wedding, myself. It suits Thunder Canyon and would catch the interest from Swinton’s crowd, especially.”

  “Sounds fun,” Holly said. Not her idea of a dream wedding, but, hey, she could adapt, just as long as she could choose her own dress. That’s really what mattered to Holly; unlike most women, she’d always just pictured the gown, and everything around it was lower on the list of wedding happiness.

  “Would it be okay,” Rose said, “if I contacted an old friend who’d do a bang-up job of planning? She retired a few years ago, but I’m sure she’d be more than happy to have one last crack at it. Believe you me, she’s a miracle worker. With her dedicated help, we could whip up an event by next weekend.”

  Next weekend?

  This was Friday.

  “Wow,” Holly said, because her brain had just been fried.

  “We need to step on it before the election,” Rose said.

  “Sure. Next weekend is great.” Holly sloughed off her coat and let it hang on the back of her chair. “I guess I should put my energies into finding a dress and rounding up a guest list then? I have college friends who’ll need a few days to get over the shock of my romance.”

  That is, after Holly even told them about it.

  She would have to do some smooth Bo-type talking to unruffle their feathers, because they wouldn’t be happy that she’d kept them in the dark about her love affair with Bo. But having her friends at the wedding would only add to the validity of their story.

  Jeez, she thought. More and more lies.

  Where would they stop?

  “That would be fantastic,” Rose said. “But you can leave the rest to me.”

  As the woman shut the door, Holly thought the assurances seemed all too familiar.

  She turned to Bo. “‘Leave the rest to me.’ Sounds like something you told me earlier, when you said you’d take care of my brothers. So how did the gladiator training go?”

  Bo leaned back in his chair, resting his hands on the back of his head. Confident. Scamp.

  “Would it irritate you if I said that you shouldn’t worry about a thing?”

  Holly laughed. “Actually, I’m glad to hear that.”

  “Your brothers aren’t exactly pussycats to deal with, but they mellowed after I explained about how much I adore you and the baby.”

  Taking that in stride, Holly opened the notebook, which she’d started maintaining back when she’d thought she’d fancied getting married to Alan. She scanned the ideas she’d scribbled down for a wedding, but unlike the file she’d kept for wedding dress clippings, it was nothing detailed.

  Family only, small. On the ranch, rose trellises. Simple, elegant.

  But she was game for a Wild West blowout, too, if that’s what would work for Bo.

  Still, Holly didn’t cross out her ideas. It seemed like that would only erase a true wedding from her heart, and maybe someday, there’d still be a chance…

  She set down the notebook. Her chances had probably already passed her by, and she should consider herself lucky that Bo had come along to help her out.

  “Seriously,” Bo said. “Your brothers got that murderous gleam out of their eyes, but their bruised egos could use a bit more appeasing. They said they’d be at the ranch tonight.”

  “They’re there more often than not to raid the pantry. Why shouldn’t they take the opportunity to razz lil’ sis as much as they can at the same time?”

  “They love you, Holly.”

  “Yeah, they really do.” She plucked a pen from the leather holder on his desk. “And I pretty much love them.”

  When she grinned at Bo, she made it clear that her brothers were the end-all-be-all. She would go mountain lion on anyone she believed was taking advantage of them, so she couldn’t stay mad at the boys for giving Bo a hard time today.

  “Want me to drop you off tonight?” he asked, “just so I can stick around and see how it goes?”

  His caring tone wrapped around her. She’d never heard such a thing from Alan.

  “Don’t you worry about a thing, Bo.”

  They settled down to talk about plans, deciding to hold the wedding at his ranch, the Rockin’ C. But when it came time to talk about a full-fledged honeymoon trip, they decided to “put it off” until after the birth of the baby and some months after. Of course, by then, the marriage would be over. As for living arrangements, she would have to move into his home after the wedding, just to give credence to their relationship.

  “But separate bedrooms, right?” she asked.

  “I’ve got a few to spare.”

  She wrote that down, but when she glanced up at him again, she found him watching her in a way that made her think he could talk her into sharing a bed if he wanted it. That, if they stepped over a line, this wouldn’t be a lie at all.

  Her mind—and libido—wandered. What would it be like with Bo?

  A sigh wound through her, running like a silken thread, taut and ready to break…

  He stood from his chair, destroying the spell.

  Had he felt it, too?

  “Hot chocolate.” There was grit in his voice as he went for his coat and hat on a rack by the door.

  Hot what?

  Then he grabbed her coat from the back of her chair. “Or coffee. I need caffeine, since it’s going to be a long night for me. Maybe some decaf tea for you.”

  He held open her coat and she slipped into it. Before she could thank him, he was out the door.

  The volunteers greeted him, their workstations strewn with pizza boxes, Chinese food or take-out cartons from the Hitching Post. He opened the door for Holly, and once she stepped out, the fall air pressed against her cheeks.

  “Getting colder by the night,” she said, hoping small talk would cut the sudden awkwardness.

  “We can go to a café, where it’s warmer inside.”

  “No, this is beautiful.” She smelled the wood smoke on the air, looked at the sunset colors painting the wide sky. “There’s a cart in the town square where we can grab that coffee and tea. It should still be open.”

  They went in that direction and arrived within a minute. He paid for their drinks and they found a bench under an oak, with all its autumn leaves swaying with the help of a small breeze that came and went.

  “Do you go stir-crazy a lot in that office?” she asked.

  The coffee cup was halfway to his mouth and he stopped it there.

  “I mean,” she continued, “you seemed to want to get the heck out of Dodge pretty quickly tonight.”

  He took a gulp of the coffee, then nodded. “You got me. Being at that desk was riding on my nerves. I’m not one who can sit still for long.”

  “I’m sure we’ll keep you running as mayor of this place.”

  “From your mouth to God’s ears,” he said.

  She wanted to ask
him if he’d also jumped out of his office chair because of that moment between them. The tension that had just about split the room in two.

  But she didn’t dare. Those darn pregnancy hormones—they were making her imagine things. They were making her want when she shouldn’t be wanting.

  As if responding to that, a kick thumped in her belly, and she sucked in a breath, her hand going to her tummy.

  “You okay?” Bo asked.

  “Yes.” She patted her stomach. “It’s Hopper.”

  “The baby. What’s—”

  “Nothing’s wrong. He or she just decided it’d be a good time to give me a boot, that’s all. I’ve got an active one.”

  His gaze dwelled on her midsection. Holly had spent so long hiding her condition that, now, she only wanted to let the town see that she was about to give birth to the biggest blessing she’d ever received.

  And she was free to show everyone that, wasn’t she?

  “Here,” she said, unbuttoning her coat and taking Bo’s hand, guiding it to her bump. “Let’s see if the baby goes for it again.”

  Bo laughed, and there was a nervous edge to it, as if he’d never thought to find himself cupping a woman’s pregnant belly.

  After a second passed with no action, he said, “You’re still pretty small for seven months.”

  “I don’t show much. It’s my slender build, the doctor says. I’ll be seeing her next week for another appointment.”

  A heartbeat clomped by. Two.

  “After the wedding,” she added.

  The baby kicked, and Bo hooted.

  “There’s a boy!” he said.

  “Or girl. I don’t know which one yet. I decided that I wanted to wait and see until the baby is born.”

  He nodded, going along with her decision, but he didn’t remove his hand. Holly didn’t remind him that he should, either. It just felt so nice, sitting here in the town she’d grown up in, finally a part of it when she’d feared that she would be cast out only a day ago.

  She realized that she’d even put her hand on top of his, her palm mapped over his skin. He seemed to become aware of it at the same time she did, and he slightly moved his hand on her belly.