“Oh. I see. I didn’t know you were gay…not that I have any problem with that,” he added. Okay, he was a little shocked. Not that he had anything against girls who played on the same team, but he’d have sworn she had a touch of lust in her eyes in the kitchen.
“What? I’m not gay. Good Lord, Travis.” Then she started laughing. In fact, she doubled over, wrapping both arms around her waist. After a couple of minutes, she wiped her eyes and chuckled. “Thanks,” she said and sucked in a deep breath. “I needed that.” She snickered a couple of more times and then sighed as she rubbed both hands over her face. “Okay. I’m better. Now, like I was saying, I don’t want a husband, but I need one. Temporarily, I mean.” She looked at him. “Let me make a long story short. My grandmother, the woman who raised me, is dying. She wants nothing more than for me to be married before she dies.” A rueful smile crossed her full, luscious lips. “It doesn’t matter how old I get, she worries about me being alone. But I guess it’s kind of nice that someone cares that much about me.”
“But you still have your parents, right? Somewhere overseas, if I remember correctly.” The thought of his parents being gone from his life brought a swell of sadness. He feared that would be as hard on him as Susan’s death had been. He wasn’t sure he could survive another emotional blow like that, and he’d spent the last ten years making sure he didn’t have to.
Her responding snort was unexpected. It wasn’t an expression of humor like her laughter and chuckles. This sound clearly conveyed an underlying tone of something else…anger? Disgust?
“Yeah, alive, but they haven’t been in my life in a long time.” She pointed at the African masks. “Christmas last year. They’re Christian missionaries. They’ve traveled all over the world and don’t make it back to the US much.”
This time her snort didn’t surprise him, but her underlying hostility toward her parents, or maybe their chosen profession, came through loud and clear. Her shoulders slumped for a second before she pulled them back and stood as straight as a fence post. She appeared to be collecting herself, so he didn’t speak. Frankly, now that he was over his flabbergasted state, his curiosity had been stroked. His mother had always said his curiosity had been overdeveloped and would surely get him into hot water one day. Was his pot of water simmering?
She picked up his hat and tried it on. It slid down to the top of her pert nose. She laughed.
He smiled, picturing her wearing his hat and nothing else. The mental image made his heart quicken and the blood drain from his brain to his crotch.
All her flitting around the room had his mind drawing erotic pictures instead of paying attention to what she was saying. The way she tilted her chin and cocked her hip to one side was so damn sexy and…his lungs froze up as a band around his chest tightened, making it difficult for him to catch his breath.
Slow down, bud. This was Caroline Graham, not some bar chick he was picking up for a night of hot, sweaty fucking. He didn’t need—or want—the complications of sex with a family friend.
Besides, finding a gal for a couple of hours of sex was, well, easy. One town over was Long Branch Roadhouse, better known as the Love ’Em and Leave ’Em bar. There was always a willing gal or two ready to party for a few hours. Then it was home again. No commitments. No ties. No heartache.
And no fucking in his own backyard. He’d learned that lesson the hard way with a local divorced debutant who had him on her radar for husband number three. It was a die-hard rule he almost never broke and he wasn’t going to break it now…even if the idea had its appeal at this moment.
Setting the hat back as she’d found it, Caroline rubbed at an invisible smudge on the dark-wood side table before turning back to him. “I owe my grandmother everything.”
She’d been quiet so long her words jarred him back to the situation. “Your grandmother,” he repeated just to let her know he was still listening, not that he had been, but he would now.
“Right. My grandmother was the one who was there for me. Loved me. Supported me. And now she’s dying.” Her emerald-green eyes glistened. She turned away and tried, unsuccessfully, to surreptitiously wipe her eyes. “And the worst part is that I’ve been lying to her.”
Now that got his attention. He lowered his foot to the floor and leaned forward to rest his forearms on his thighs. “Really? Lying about what?” For some reason, a warning siren began to wail in his mind like a female cat in heat.
Caroline wrung her hands and a red flush colored her throat and face. “My last serious relationship ended before I moved here. In fact, it ended about six months before that.”
“Why? I mean, why did you break up with your boyfriend? All the moving around?”
She chuckled, but the sound was tinted with discomfort instead of humor. “Not hardly. Let’s just say I didn’t break up with him. And before you feel sorry for me that I got dumped, don’t. It was for the best.” After a quick glance in his direction, she shifted her eyes to the African masks. “Anyway, Mamie—my grandmother—was more upset than I was. I think she had high hopes I’d marry him and she could quit worrying about me. And no matter how many times I told her not to lose any sleep over my marital status, she was still concerned about me being alone. Nothing I said convinced her I was content with my life as it is.” She traced a finger along one of the carved designs in the mask. She cut a quick glance his way then whipped it away. “Don’t kill me when I tell you this next part.”
He’d been listening and had enjoyed watching the tensing and relaxing of her thigh muscles while she walked, but now she had his undivided attention. Kill her? What had she done?
“One night…” She slanted another look his way. “I swear I don’t know what came over me. One night when Mamie kept going on about me being alone and she sounded so sorry for me and—” The muscles in her face bunched and her lips pulled tight. “I don’t want anyone to feel sorry for me…ever. That night I just blurted out that I was dating you. I am so sorry. I swear I didn’t do it on purpose.” A frown creased her brow. “I am so sorry, Travis.”
He’d been confused at the beginning of the conversation, now he was truly baffled.
“Me? Why?”
Her cheeks took on a rosy color. “You happened to be standing outside my office door that day talking to Lydia. You were handy. That’s all.”
He shrugged. Made sense. “Okay. You lied to your grandmother. Told her we were dating. Got it.” When she couldn’t meet his gaze, an acid bomb exploded in his gut. “What is it, Caroline? What haven’t you told me?”
Caroline murmured a very unladylike cussword. “I sort of said a little more than dating.”
An inconceivable thought formed. A sharp cold ran through him, followed by a flash of red-hot fury. “You told her we were married, didn’t you?” He slapped his thigh.
“No. I didn’t. I, um…” She hurried back to the couch and sat. “No, I didn’t. But maybe I exaggerated our relationship a little more than I’d intended.”
“Exaggerated?” Disbelief and amazement flowed like beer at a frat party. His left eyebrow arched. “What the hell are you talking about? You’re a friend of my family’s, but we—you and I—don’t have a relationship beyond that. What were you thinking?” He ran his hand across his short cropped hair. “Hell’s bells, Caroline.”
She flinched. “It gets worse. I, um, oh God, Travis, I told her we were getting married, and now she wants us to get married before she dies.” She shut her eyes and hung her head. “I am so sorry. I just don’t have the heart to tell her I was lying, or even that we broke up. She’ll just feel sorry for me that another guy dumped me, no matter how I try to spin the break-up.” Speaking directly to the floor, she added, “What can I do to get you to pretend?”
“Pretend what? To be in love with you?”
She shook her head. “Pretend to marry me.”
“Are you crazy?”
“Maybe, but…” She dropped her hands on the sofa cushions and stared him straight in the eye
. “Hear me out. If you say no, fine, but at least listen to what I have to say.”
He waved her on and leaned back.
“Here’s what I was thinking. We fly to Waterton, Arkansas. There’s a direct flight from Dallas to the local airport there. We take out a marriage license, go to the hospital, let Mamie watch us go through a wedding ceremony, she can sign the danged thing and then we fly back to Whispering Springs. We’ll never file the license, so there’ll be no marriage. I mean, think of all the times people get a marriage license and never go through with the wedding. That’s what the clerk’s office will think. This would give Mamie so much peace.” She leaned forward and placed her hand on his knee. “Please, Travis.”
The palm of her hand heated his flesh, even through the thick denim of jeans. He’d never noticed how long her fingers were, or that her nails bore a professional-looking manicure.
He mentally thumped his head. Get your head in the game.
“Forget it, Caroline. That’s nuts. No way am I going to con what is probably a nice old woman. First, it’s beyond dishonest, and second, I believe in marriage.”
She dropped her head heavily against the back of the sofa and pulled her hand away from his knee. The heat from her touch quickly dissipated in the air-conditioned room. He immediately missed her touch.
“Will you at least think about it?” She looked at him with pleading eyes and he felt his firm resolve faltering.
“Look, since this is all a sham anyway, why not just get someone to play my part? Get some other sucker to pretend to be me pretending to marry you.”
She chewed the inside of her cheek. “I would if I could, but I can’t.”
He gritted his teeth. “Why not?” he asked in a sharp tone.
She drew back. “Remember last Christmas when your parents were snapping pictures right and left? There was one of us, me and you. I, um sort of sent that to Mamie.”
“What?” He exploded off the couch and stomped across the room to snatch up his hat. “You’re insane, Caroline. No wonder your last boyfriend ran. He must have seen this bizarre streak and got out while the getting was good.” He pounded his hat on his head. “I am not going to have a pretend wedding like a couple of kids playing house. Forget it.” His eyes squinted in a threat. “Maybe you should think about leaving Whispering Springs a few months early. I’ll cover any buy-out on your contract. Hell, woman, I’ll hire a moving company to get your ass out of town.” He grabbed the door handle but her next words stopped him dead.
“I’ll give you Singing Springs Ranch if you’ll do this.”
He dropped his hand from the door handle and turned toward her. “No. I’ll pay you a fair price for Singing Springs.” He quoted a seven-figure number that was high but fair.
She shook her head. “I can’t sell you Singing Springs.”
“Why the hell not?”
“Uncle Angus asked me not to sell the ranch to you, so I won’t. But he never said anything about trading it to you.”
“You are either the most peculiar woman I’ve ever met or the dumbest. That ranch is worth a hell of a lot of money.”
“You don’t understand. I don’t give a flying fuck about money.”
Her foul language shocked him. He didn’t think he’d ever heard her say anything worse than shoot or darn it.
Her shoulders sagged like a deflated balloon. “I only want—no, make that need to give my grandmother what she wants before it’s too late.”
“No, Caroline. I won’t do this, not even for Singing Springs.”
Saturday morning, as Travis drove along the property line separating Singing Springs Ranch from Halo M Ranch, his desire for the property was so strong he could taste it. He’d been prepared to drop some serious cash to get it, but to stage a fake wedding, to play a fake groom to get the property felt, well, it felt dirty. Like he was a flim-flam artist selling worthless stock to an old woman. It wasn’t right.
But on the other hand, who would they be hurting, the imp who always got him into trouble asked. It was obvious that Caroline adored her grandmother and would do nothing that would ever harm her. Maybe he was overreacting. He just didn’t know if adding the Singing Springs acreage to his ranch holdings was worth the guilt he’d feel at deceiving an old woman.
The phone on his belt vibrated.
“Travis Montgomery.”
“Well, good morning to you, sugar.” The voice on the other end was female, Southern and sweet enough to send him into a diabetic coma. Elsie Belle Lambert.
“Mornin’ Elsie Belle.” He’d briefly dated Elsie Belle Lambert six months ago. After three dates, she’d begun pushing for something more permanent, like marriage. Even though he’d made it clear from the start that he had no interest in any long-term relationship, the woman never gave up. No amount of discouragement deterred her, so he didn’t waste his time trying. “What can I do for you?”
“You can go to the End of Summer dance at WSCC with me. I’ve got the most wonderful dress that’ll match your eyes perfectly.”
Ah. Damn. He should have remembered the annual dance at Whispering Springs Country Club. It marked the end of summer vacation and the return to school for students and teachers. A huge fundraiser for the high school football team, his family always attended to show their support for the local team.
Think, damn it. Think. Elsie Belle would not take no for an answer.
“I’m sure any dress would be lovely on you, darlin’, but I’ve already got a date for the dance.”
His announcement was met briefly by stunned shock. “Really? This far out? How nice. Who’s the lucky woman?”
He opened his mouth to say, “No one you know,” but what came out was, “Caroline Graham.” Damn. Why had he said that?
“Dr. Graham. How…nice. I’m sure I’ll see you both there then.”
“Of course you will. Good to talk to you, Elsie Belle.”
When she clicked off without saying goodbye—and without asking him to take her to dinner—he snapped his phone back into its holder. What was he thinking? How could he have blurted out Caroline’s name without thinking?
She had been on his mind. Maybe it was natural that her name would be the one on the tip of his tongue.
Had he just done the same thing Caroline had done when she told her grandmother about him? Well, hadn’t he just landed in a big old pile of steaming horse manure.
He finished his morning ride still unsure how to untangle the knot he’d just tied with his lie. Maybe Caroline didn’t have a date and he could ask her to go…as friends, of course. That’d make his lie not so much a lie and more of a prediction.
Before he headed to the barn, he turned Ransom toward Singing Springs. He opened the adjoining gate and rode onto Fitzgerald’s property. The grass was still green and high. The creek running through the back end of the acreage bubbled, fed continually from the underground spring. He slipped from Ransom’s back and allowed the horse to drink his fill of the fresh water. He wanted this property. Needed it to secure Halo M’s future and build the ranch he dreamed of. He’d always told himself that he’d do whatever necessary to get his hands on Singing Springs, and now it was being handed to him on a silver platter. He’d be a fool not to grab it.
He scrolled through the stored directory on his phone until he found Caroline’s number and then hit send. As the phone rang on her end, he paced and practiced what he would say when she answered. For just a moment, he felt as though he were fifteen again and calling a girl for their first date.
“Dr. Graham.”
“Hi. Caroline. It’s Travis. Travis Montgomery.” He flinched at how nervous he sounded. It was worse than when he was thirteen and going through the nightmare voice change of adolescence.
She laughed. “Yes, Travis. I got the Montgomery part. What’s up?”
“I was wondering if we could get together after church tomorrow. To talk…about Singing Springs. I’ll buy your lunch. We can drive over to Tuckerville. There’s a great Italian pla
ce.”
“Tuckerville, huh? Hiding me from the locals?” She chuckled. “Lunch would be great, but why don’t you just follow me home and I’ll cook. We can even hide your truck in my garage so nobody will know you’re here.”
This time he laughed.
“Besides,” she continued. “My house will give us some privacy to talk. Tell me you’ve given my offer some thought.”
“Some, but I have to be honest. I still have some major reservations, but I’m willing to discuss your offer a little more.”
“Good.” She sighed into the receiver. “I’m not crazy. Desperate, yes, but not crazy. Fried chicken work for you?”
“Oh, hell yeah. One other thing though. You realize how small Whispering Springs is and how fast news travels. If I follow you home for lunch, it’ll be all over town by two o’clock, so as bad as this may sound, I do want to park in your garage.”
“I’m fully aware of how quickly news can fly in this town. Why, I’ve already heard I’m your date for the End of Summer Dance at the club.”
He groaned.
She laughed. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Mamie Bridges had been raised in the Superior Avenue Methodist Church of Waterton, Arkansas. From the day Caroline moved into her grandmother’s house, she’d attended the Methodist church every Sunday with Mamie. While in college, then medical school, and finally during her residency and contract work, she’d always made it a priority to find a Methodist church in the area to attend. Before she moved to Whispering Springs, her biggest issue had been deciding which Methodist church to attend. Not a problem here.
Being a small community, Whispering Springs offered limited religious options. Southern Baptist, Catholic or Methodist. Worshipers could choose one of those or drive thirty or more minutes to Tuckerville to attend church. Most townspeople and ranchers were divided between Baptist and Methodist, with Catholic mass only being offered every other Sunday due to low attendance and the lack of a Catholic priest to conduct services without bringing in one from Dallas.
Texas Tango: Texas Montgomery Mavericks, Book 2 Page 5
