by Lori Wilde
She sighed. “All right. I really don’t want to go back in there. And I don’t feel like talking. I just want to go home.”
“Understood.” He opened the door for her. “Come on, let’s go.”
* * *
Tracy pulled her purse from under the seat where she’d stuffed it. The bottle of extra strength ibuprofen was tucked into a side pocket. She shook two tablets into her hand and managed to swallow them dry.
“Are you all right?” he asked, starting the car.
“Just sore.” She closed her purse and buckled her seat belt. She felt wretched. She’d let herself believe he’d changed. She’d even trusted him to make love to her. But she should have known better. He’d been playing her the whole time, just so he could win the bet he’d made.
Except that he hadn’t won the bet. He’d lost. That was why he’d given Chet the bourbon. Something didn’t make sense.
After a few miles of silent thought, she spoke. “It won’t make any difference, understand, but as long as we’re here, I’d like to know the story behind that bet.”
She listened as he told her: the banter with Chet, his decision to make the bet.
“Those first few minutes at the shower, you treated me like something you’d scraped off your shoe,” he said. “I wanted you even then, but I also wanted to put you in your place. I made that fool bet out of spite. By the time I realized it was a bad idea, it was too late.”
“Why too late?”
“Because I always honor my bets. And because I knew that if I won, and you found out, I’d lose any chance of getting you back.”
“Well, you were right about that,” Tracy said.
“I know.” He paused to pass a slow-moving truck. “So I decided I had to lose. I was doing a pretty good job of self-control. Then you asked me to help you into that dress . . .”
“So you really won the bet. But you told Chet you lost and gave him the bourbon.”
“That’s right. I didn’t want you hurt, so I lied.”
“That’s insane.”
“I know.”
“You’re a blithering idiot, Linc. I wouldn’t have you back if you held a loaded gun to my head.”
“I know that, too.”
They didn’t speak again until they were a few blocks from the condo. Linc slowed the car. “The wedding’s tomorrow at three,” he said. “You’ll need a ride to the ranch. Let me drive you there and back. No strings attached.”
“Why?”
“To help you,” he said. “And to say good-bye at the end like two civilized adults.”
“All right.” She sighed. “You know I’ll never trust you again, don’t you?”
“Yes, I know. I blew it, Tracy.”
He pulled up to her condo and stopped at the curb. She reached for the door, fumbling with her awkward left hand. Before she could raise the latch, he came around and opened the door.
“I’m fine,” she said, climbing out. “I can let myself in.”
“It’s dark. I’ll see you to the door.”
Staying a little behind, he followed her the short distance to the stoop. Tracy already had her key in her hand. She shoved it into the lock, gave it a turn, and opened the door.
“Hold still.” He touched her shoulder.
“What is it?” She imagined a spider crawling up her back.
“Just one last thing.” His fingers found the zipper tab at the back of her dress. In one neat move, he pulled it downward, opening the zipper to the bottom. “Now you won’t need help. Sleep tight, Tracy. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
By the time Tracy got inside and locked the door, he was back in his car. As the sound of the engine faded, she made her way into the dark living room and switched on the table lamp. Sinking onto the sofa, she buried her face in her left hand and cried her heart out.
* * *
At ten minutes after two the next day, Linc arrived at the condo to take Tracy to the wedding. He’d thought about bringing her flowers for their anniversary. But given the way she felt about him, she probably would have tossed them in the trash. He’d decided against it.
When he rang the bell she was at the door, ready to go. She looked amazing in a sleeveless, body-skimming knit peach dress, cinched at the waist with a gold belt. No zipper. He couldn’t help checking as he opened the car door for her. He’d put the top up to save her hair and allow them to talk without wind and traffic noise.
“Happy anniversary,” he said as he pulled away from the curb.
“Don’t remind me.” There was no warmth in her voice. “When are you going back to Lexington?”
“My flight leaves tomorrow morning. I only came for the wedding.” Small talk was better than no talk. At least she was speaking to him. But Linc knew how badly he must have hurt her last night. Little had he known, when he’d made that bet, that he was making the worst mistake of his life.
“You told me you did pro bono work on Saturdays,” he said. “Did you have to miss that today?”
“I checked in with my clients by phone this morning,” Tracy said. “Everything’s up-to-date. But I’ll need to make up for lost time next week. I suppose I’ll have to hire a ride service until I get this cast off my hand.”
“You know, I never understood this need of yours to make the world a better place. I even made fun of it. Saint Tracy, I called you.”
“I remember. I remember how it hurt, and how hard I tried not to let it show.”
“I was an insensitive jerk.”
A ghost of a smile tugged at her mouth. “Yes, you were.”
“When I went to check on that new place for Hero, I had to watch while I waited for the folks in charge. Some of the workers there were volunteers. I could see how much they enjoyed helping those wounded vets with the horses. Their only pay was knowing they’d made a difference. But that seemed to be enough. I think I began to understand what makes you tick in a way I never had before.”
“Congratulations.” She didn’t sound impressed.
Linc drove on in quiet desperation, battling the urge to pull off the road, grab her shoulders, and force her to face him while he told her exactly what was on his mind.
Can’t you see that I love you, you mule-headed woman? I know I’ve made mistakes, stupid mistakes like that bet. But I’m not the man I was when we were married. I’ll do anything to make you happy. Just don’t shut me out like this. I can’t stand it!
* * *
They drove on to the ranch and followed the beribboned signs to the little rustic chapel where the wedding was to be held. The grassy area marked off for parking was nearly full and guests were still arriving. “Looks like it might be standing room only,” Linc said.
Tracy thought of the high-heeled gold sandals she’d worn and how her feet would feel after an hour of standing. “If you want to let me out by the door, I’ll run in and try to find us seats,” she said.
“Good idea.” Linc stopped the car by the front steps. “If you can only find one seat, take it. I’ll stand.” He let her out and drove on to park. Tracy hurried inside. She was in luck. The last row had room for two people on the side nearest the door. When no one appeared to be saving the space, she sat down and put her purse in the last empty spot for Linc.
The little chapel was beautifully decorated, the western theme perfect for Brady and his bride. The staging of this wedding had taken time and care. Tracy remembered her own small wedding on this very day of the year, hastily arranged because Linc needed to return to Lexington and he wanted to take her with him. Her parents had flown in from their retirement condo in Florida. They’d invited a few friends, found a justice of the peace, and rented the rooftop garden room of a hotel. Her strapless dress, hastily bought off the rack at a discount bridal shop, had nonetheless been beautiful. And she’d been so much in love. She’d felt like a princess, marrying her prince.
Where was Linc? He should have come in by now.
A glance out the open door told her the wedding procession was abou
t to begin. But there was no sign of him.
At the first notes of Pachelbel’s “Canon,” from a country guitarist who was giving it his all, the guests stood. The two bridesmaids entered first; pretty girls, demurely dressed, with bouquets of daisies and ribbons. Tracy had had no bridesmaids at her wedding. There’d been no time to ask anyone. But the music—Fauré’s “Pavane,” which she loved—had been played by two of her friends, a flute and classical guitar duo. She’d seen tears in her father’s eyes when she’d taken his arm to walk down the aisle. “Be happy, girl,” he’d whispered, squeezing her hand. And she had been—for a while.
Where was Linc? Could something have happened to him?
Now the organ broke into “The Bridal March.” Ellie was coming down the aisle on the arm of the handsome officer who was her best friend. She looked like a little doll in her white cowgirl hat and boots, paired with a sweet fluff of a dress and a veil. Even from the back of the chapel, Tracy could see Brady’s adoring expression as she went toward him.
Brady had been Linc’s last-minute best man at her own wedding. She remembered Linc, standing beside him as she came down the aisle—the smile on his face, the loving look in his eyes. She remembered the certainty in her heart that this was the man she wanted to be with for the rest of her life, for richer or poorer, for better or worse . . .
Why hadn’t he come into the chapel? Surely he’d had time to park by now. What if he’d decided to make a clean break and just leave her here? That would be like Linc, especially after the way she’d treated him. She could have laughed off that silly bet and his frantic efforts to put things right. Instead, she’d let it drive a wedge between them.
How could she have been such a fool?
Now Brady and Ellie were saying the vows they’d written, so sweet and sentimental that there was barely a dry eye in the chapel. Tears trickled down Tracy’s face as she remembered the tender words she and Linc had spoken to each other at the altar. How could something so beautiful have gone so wrong?
Had she and Linc been given a second chance? Or was it already too late?
The ceremony was over. Brady and Ellie were kissing as man and wife. The organ music rose as they joined hands for the happy rush back down the aisle to begin their new lives. The guests rose, ready to follow them.
Tracy slipped out the door. Her eyes searched frantically, scanning the parking lot and the overflow of people who’d come too late to find a seat inside. She couldn’t see Linc anywhere.
Please, please let him be here. Give me the chance to tell him that I’m sorry, that I love him. Give us the chance to try again . . .
She was about to give in to despair when she saw him. He was coming around the corner of the church with a very elderly couple. The old man was using a cane, his wife leaning on a walker. Linc followed them, almost protectively. His tie was loosened, his slacks were stained with grass and dirt, and he had a grease smudge on his cheek.
He caught sight of Tracy. “I can explain,” he said as she hurried toward him.
“No, let me explain.” It was the elderly woman who spoke. “Our car hit a rock and blew a tire coming into the parking lot. This good man took the time to change it for us. I don’t know what we’d have done without him!”
“It looks like we all missed the ceremony,” the old man said. “We’ll have to catch Brady and his bride out here. He’s our great-grandnephew, by the way.” He turned to Linc and offered his hand. “Thanks again, young man,” he said. “I owe you.”
“You don’t owe me a thing.” Linc shook the arthritic hand. “It was a pleasure to be there for you.”
The old woman gave Tracy a knowing wink. “If this handsome fellow is yours, I’d advise you to hang on to him. He’s a keeper!”
“I plan to—if he’ll let me,” Tracy said.
“What was that all about?” Linc slipped an arm around Tracy as the elderly pair hobbled away. “If I’ll let you what?”
Tracy nestled against him. “Stick around and maybe I’ll tell you. But only if you promise to behave.”
“Behave? Me? Dream on, lady!” He nuzzled her hair, his gaze following the old couple as they made their way through the crowd. “Look how they take care of each other. All that love. Where do you suppose we’ll be when we’re their age?”
“I don’t know. But as I was sitting in the chapel, wondering where you were and listening to those beautiful vows, I couldn’t help remembering our wedding and the words we spoke. I realized then that I still meant those words.”
His arm tightened around her. “I still mean them, too. Wherever this crazy journey takes us, I want to make it with you. So happy anniversary, girl. What do you say we celebrate?”
Tracy’s throat was choked with tears. She could only wrap her arms around him and raise her face for his kiss. They would need time to sort things out—lots of snuggling and talking, maybe more than a few long-distance phone calls, even a few good, healthy arguments. But somehow, she knew, they would make this work.
Love had given them a chance—a second chance.
Epilogue
Mr. and Mrs. Brady Cutwright made their getaway from the wedding on horseback under the guide of a brilliant yellow moon.
They rode bareback, Ellie sitting sideways behind Brady because she was still in her wedding dress. The horse was a gentle old girl Brady had owned since he was a boy, and she loped carefully across the pasture toward the Cutwright ranch.
Ellie rested her head against her husband’s back, heard the steady lub-dub of his heart, and tightened her arms around his waist.
It was the best night of her life.
A Cinderella story. A dream come true. She’d found her Prince Charming and he was a million times better than she’d ever imagined.
She savored the moment, breathing in his scent, realized how very lucky they were to have found each other.
“We’re home, wife,” Brady said, pronouncing wife like a caress.
Ellie slid gracefully off the back of the mare as if she’d been born to do it. Easy. It was so easy being here with Brady. Things went so much easier when you went with the flow of life, didn’t fight against it.
A stable hand came out to take the horse to the stables.
Brady got off, turned to face her, pulled her into his arms, and gave her a magnificent kiss. “I’m dying to get you into bed.”
She went up on her tiptoes, nibbled his earlobe, and whispered, “So what are you waiting for?”
He needed no more invitation than that. He swept her into his arms, into the ranch house, carried her to the master bedroom, and lay her carefully on the bed. Stood looking down at her with so much love in his eyes it took her breath away.
“Look what we started when we were brave enough to join that dating service,” she said.
“In just a few short months the world has opened up so many possibilities. Did you see how many happy couples there were at our wedding? Love is in the air and you’re at the center of it all,” Brady said, sinking down on the mattress to ease off her cowgirl boots.
“We’re at the center of it all. Not being afraid to trust is the key,” Ellie whispered. “I told that to Shane and look what happened with him and Meg. Seems like our best friends are on their way to the altar.”
“And they were so skeptical of us at first. We really turned them around.”
“We won,” Ellie giggled.
“Sweetheart, everyone wins.” He dropped her boots to the floor and stretched out on the mattress beside her. “Because of you.”
“Us. We’re a team.”
“God, how did I ever get so lucky.” He traced a fingertip over her nose.
“When I stared into your eyes for those four beautiful minutes on the night we met, I felt as if I stepped through the looking glass and into a beautiful, magical world that I always hoped was true but couldn’t quite believe in. It was like having everything I’d ever lost returned to me.”
“I felt as if I’d found my life’s mission
,” Brady said.
“And what’s that?”
“Loving you.”
And with that Brady kissed his happy, happy bride and sealed their spiritual union with their earthly bodies, loving each other with passion, hope, courage, and trust. Both of them knowing deep down inside it was a love that would last a lifetime.
Read on for an excerpt from
Janet Dailey’s delightful holiday romance,
JUST A LITTLE CHRISTMAS!
Believe in second chances this Christmas . . .
Ellie Marsden couldn’t wait to shake the dust
of Branding Iron, Texas, off her heels and chase after
bright lights, big city, and a wealthy husband.
Now she’s come home, divorced, a little disillusioned,
and a whole lot pregnant. Leave it to her one-time
high school sweetheart, cattle rancher Jubal McFarland,
to point out that citified Ellie is as out of place
in small-town Texas as her teacup poodle.
So why is there something about being back—
and being with Jubal—that feels surprisingly right?
Jubal’s seven-year-old daughter, Gracie,
needs a mother, but he hasn’t found the perfect woman.
Or maybe the problem is that he did find her,
and had his heart broken when she left town.
Gracie’s already falling hard for Ellie
and that ball of fluff she calls a dog.
And no matter how hard the rugged cowboy tries to resist,
there’s no denying the appeal of first love
and sweet new beginnings—especially when there’s
a little Christmas magic in the air....
Click here to get your copy.
Late on a chilly November day, Ellie Marsden Thomas came home to Branding Iron, Texas.
Driving her BMW sedan along the two-lane road, she gazed across stubbled fields, dotted here and there with grazing cattle. Under a soot-gray sky, scattered houses, barns, and silos rose out of a landscape that matched Ellie’s bleak mood.
