The Cowboy Takes a Bride

by Kristi Rose

  She was so ashamed. Of her actions, her desperation, and indecisiveness.

  Her surprise had gotten the best of her when he’d stepped into the room. She hoped she hadn’t shown her disappointment when realizing her life was not likely to be that of Charlotte Lucas from Pride and Prejudice, destined to spend her days as she pleased in a sitting parlor. No, this man would make demands on her, and that thought alone had caused her hands to tremble with anxiety. It was inevitable, for she would not be able to avoid confrontation. This would be no easy transition away from her controlling father to a passive, mild-mannered stranger.

  Dr. Fleming had said she needed to stand up for herself right away. That’s what she would do.

  She would not run. That was plain stupid. She would take the deal. It was the best option.

  After quickly repacking her suitcase and hiding the backpack—she didn’t want Sabrina to see it—she escaped to the restroom where she stood before the sink and pushed from her mind thoughts of home and Texas. This would be home now, for however long. She'd landed, albeit temporarily. This was a good thing, right? So why did tears threaten to fall once again? She was one step closer to her goal. Now if she could learn to ask for what she wanted.

  Dabbing at her eyes with the hankie, she found her attention drawn to it, her thoughts straying to the man with the light gray eyes who’d held her hand when she cried and offered her a handkerchief for her tears. There was gentleness in him that told her she would be all right if she stayed.

  The handkerchief was a simple square of linen, but it spoke of so much more. The frayed edges and slight off-color stain in the corner told the story of use. Whether for tears or sweat, it showed a history of cleaning up messes.

  And now it was cleaning up the mess that she was. Funny, though, she didn’t have to be. Not at this moment. Not in the next. Fresh start. It was hers for the taking.

  Even the headache that had threatened to come earlier while she was about to enter the church was nowhere to be found. A horse had neighed, and she’d turned to search for the animal, suddenly swept away in the memories of a better, more carefree time of her life when she had taken horseback riding lessons from her grandmother. There was something about this place. Something that spoke to Meredith.

  It was the mountains standing tall and strong against the elements. Presenting with a range of color, some peaks light, others dark, they welcomed and cautioned. The foothills extended out as if arms stretching to embrace the land and her. They gave her strength, odd as that might sound. In order to form, they’d pushed through years of earth and resistance to rise above the fray and now presided over the landscape majestically.

  Meredith was ready to form. To become the person she was meant to be, though she had no desire to preside over anything except her own home. And her life, of course. That was why she’d done this insanely impulsive act.

  She recalled how her mother used to whisper words of encouragement, always cheering her on, boosting her up.

  You can have anything you want Meredith. You only have to be willing to ask for it.

  She sure hoped asking for this would not be a future regret.

  For the past ten years, Meredith had been surrounded by people and had felt wholly alone. At this moment, in this place, she was acutely aware she had no one but herself. It was really a new, fresh start.

  Who was she and who did she want to be?

  Heavy footfalls, likely from boots, snapped her from her reverie. Where was Sabrina? Had she decided to leave without saying goodbye?

  Meredith knew if she walked out there and let that rough-skinned but gentle-touch cowboy make all the decisions, she would eventually be living a life she hadn’t wanted and would be no better off than she was with her father.

  The contrast was to be bossy and demanding, mannerisms that went against the very fiber of her core, and her gut told her that wouldn't be successful. Jace, the people in his family, and even she would probably end up disliking herself if she embodied that behavior. No, Meredith needed to strike a balance.

  A rap on the door made her jump. “Are you in there?”

  If a person’s voice could tell a story, Jace’s would be a western. It was deep with a hint of huskiness that was likely due to yelling out of doors for extended time. But it sounded like something one heard when they watched old movies of cowboys and wagon trains. His drawl, though not Texas southern like she was used to, spoke of a slower pace of life. Or perhaps this was what she wanted to believe.

  Or maybe his story was a whole lot of sexiness. He certainly sounded like it. Or what she thought sexy might sound like. Not that she knew. He was raw and rough around the edges, and she had no trouble picturing herself locked in his arms. Sexual energy rolled off him in heady waves that made her feel loopy. Until this very moment, she hadn’t given her own sexual identity much thought. She knew she was missing out on it. Knew she wanted to try it. But it was all academic. Something she had thought about after watching movies or reading a book, even when discussing it with Dr. Fleming, it had still been abstract.

  Jace Shepard brought it to life. To the real world and made her yearn in a foreign way.

  He rapped on the door again.

  “I’m here.” She finished touching up her makeup with one last stroke of her blush brush across her cheek. The simplicity of the act at a time when nothing was simple brought a small chuckle forward. Not that she needed the color. Thinking about Jace and sex was all it had taken to add a hint of pink to her cheeks.

  He stood before the door holding a simple bouquet of snow-white hellebores with dusty miller wrapping around it. A sky blue ribbon tied the bouquet together. The Stetson she’d seen him holding earlier was on his head, and though it worked well with his suit, it changed his appearance. The fierceness she’d first seen when he stepped into the room was no longer the image of a cutthroat businessman, but that of one who lived by the rules of a rugged land. He looked less cattle rancher and more cowboy.

  Jace shifted, his gaze darting from her to the flowers. “Ah, I thought you might like these. Mrs. Williams, the lady who owns the flower store, said all brides should have something blue, and I wasn’t sure if you had anything blue or borrowed. I, ah, there’s a few more that you should have, too, but I forget what they are.”

  “Something borrowed, something blue, something old, and something new.”

  “Yeah, that’s it. So I took a chance that you didn’t have anything blue.” He thrust the flowers at her.

  “I don’t.” Her hand trembled as she took the small bundle. It was stunning in its simplicity and beauty. “It’s beautiful. Thank you.”

  “How about the others?”

  “Well, these are my mother’s pearls.” She touched the delicate strand around her neck. “This can be something old. If you let me hold on to this handkerchief that will be my something borrowed.” She opened her hand to show the fabric she had clutched there.

  He nodded.

  “I’m all set then.” This was as authentic as her wedding was going to get and as close to her dreams as possible.

  “Ah, it seems that while we were in here…talking, Rina made herself useful and invited the entire town to the service.” He pointed over his shoulder to where the chapel was. “It’s nearly full. I don’t want to cause you any undo stress, any more than you might already have that is, but if we hurry this along, we’ll beat the rush. I’m betting in the next thirty minutes, it’ll have a crowd bigger than Sunday service.”

  Suddenly, Meredith felt a bit lightheaded. “How many people usually come to Sunday service?”

  “About two-fifty. But we’re timing this well because it’s before lunch so not everyone close by can get off. It’s when people have to stand and watch that things tend to get rowdy.”

  Meredith stepped back and leaned against the wall. She fanned herself with the bouquet. “So we better get a move on it then.”

  Jace smiled. “I’d like you to meet my folks before we do this. You okay
with that?”

  She nodded. It only made sense. How awkward would that be to meet afterward?

  “I’ll also get Rina.”

  He stepped back. She held his gaze, and something akin to familiarity passed between them. Or at least she thought he felt it, too, because his brow had furrowed slightly. Certainly, they shared this moment in common, but Meredith’s gut told her it was more than that. Deeper. Whatever it was left her feeling a little less alone, if only a tad.

  No sooner had Jace left than Sabrina arrived. Her smile was wide, and she clasped her hands together in excitement.

  “Oh, Meredith. I have to confess that I’m looking forward to watching the two of you come together. You should know that Jace is one of my closest friends. It’s why I have so much faith in the two of you. You look beautiful, honey. Did Jace give you these flowers?” She gestured to the bouquet.

  “He did.” She couldn’t help but smile.

  Another side door opened, and a tall woman dressed in a long suede skirt, plain shirt, and large belt walked in. Her dark hair, fringed in silver, was pulled up into a large, loose bun. Her skin was like Jace’s and looked tanned but not weathered. Behind her was a man, undoubtedly his father as the resemblance was amazing. Same eyes, height, hair, and smile. His steps were slow, more labored and planned. He was dressed much like his wife with simple slacks, plain dress shirt, and a large belt with an even larger buckle with a bucking horse engraved on it. He wore a gray Stetson like Jace.

  “Mercy, Sabrina. You blow into town and always bring with you some surprises.” The woman went straight to Sabrina and folded her in a hug. “I hadn’t even realized Jace saw you the last time he was in Dallas, much less met someone.” She gestured to Meredith.

  Briefly, Sabrina gave Meredith a questioning look.

  Jace removed his hat and ran a hand through his hair. “Well, Ma. It was like this––”

  Meredith sprung forward. “I’m not usually so impulsive by nature, but your son’s charms and Sabrina’s outstanding character reference and gloating stories of him give me comfort in knowing we’re doing the right thing. I know we’ve only known each other a short time, since he was at the auction.” She directed that last bit to Sabrina. “But who needs time when something feels right? I feel like I’ve known him a lifetime, and now I’ll get a lifetime to get to know him. I’m Meredith Hanover.” She stuck out her hand and made her smile larger, all the while hoping she wasn’t going to burn in hell for lying to these people. Jace’s father stepped forward and took her hand in his. “I’m Wes Shepard. You can call me Pops. It’s a pleasure meeting you.”

  His hand trembled in hers, his clasp weak, his fingers squeezing intermittently. She made sure to act as if she didn’t notice. “He looks just like you. I could have picked you out anywhere.”

  “He acts like him, too. Stubborn and bossy.” This from Jace’s mom.

  Meredith waited for Wes to pull his hand away from hers before she turned to face Jace’s mom.

  “I’m Marjory.” She didn’t extend her hand, but instead opened her arms and folded Meredith into them like she had Sabrina. “I won’t lie and say I’m not surprised, but I like the sight of you already. That last one looked more conniving than a coyote. ’Member her, Rina?” Marjory stepped back and scanned Meredith up and down.

  Sabrina came to stand next to Marjory. “I do, and I also remember trying to talk him out of dating her.”

  “You’re a pretty little thing. Almost delicate. We’re gonna have to thicken you up. You’re not a vegetarian or anything like that, are ya?”

  “Leave her alone, Ma. You’ll get plenty of time to grill her later.” Jace came into the room carrying a collapsed wheelchair.

  “I’d have done all this sooner had I met her before you all decided to get married.”

  Jace stiffened and shot Meredith a look she interpreted as a silent plea for help.

  “I’m afraid that’s my fault. My father is very protective,” Meredith said in a rush of words and was pleased to see Jace's shoulders relax.

  “Is he here?” Marjory asked.

  “No ma’am. I’m afraid he doesn’t support the idea.” Meredith figured her time spent watching criminal investigation shows was paying off. Lying about a few facts was easier to keep track of than a whole mess of them. She was safer sticking to the truth, even if it made her sound like a flighty, impulsive girl.

  “And you’re here anyway?” Marjory still held Meredith’s shoulders.

  “Yes, ma’am. I can only hope he’ll come around at some point.” She wasn’t sure if that was a lie or not.

  “Here’s your wheelchair, Pops.” Jace pushed the arms to the side to lock the seat in place.

  “That darned thing? I don’t need that. Just chuck it in the trash outside.” Pops didn’t bother looking at it.

  “You know I can’t do that. Your therapist said—”

  “My therapist is a twenty-something dingbat from California who can’t wait to get out of this small town and ‘hang ten.’ Whatever that means. He’s probably taken a beating to the head from all that surfing.”

  Marjory rolled her eyes. “We’ll just leave it here in case you need it. You know I like a contingency plan, Wes. Now take my arm and escort me out to the chapel where we can watch our son get married. You make sure you film that Rina, or Willow will have a fit.” Marjory didn’t wait for Pops to come to her. She went to him, tucked her arm through his, and stepped in closer. Slowly, they made their way into the chapel.

  “Come on, son. Isn’t it bad luck to see the bride before the service?” Pops called over his shoulder.

  When Jace caught her eye, he thanked her with a nod and a smile. Then he followed his parents out the door.

  Meredith smiled, so much for running away.

  Chapter 10

  The scariest words at the ceremony were not, “I now pronounce you husband and wife.” They were, “You may kiss the bride.”

  Jace turned to her, took off his hat, clasping it with both hands in front of him, and raised his brows in question. Meredith stepped forward and nodded slightly.

  The good folks in the church leaned forward.

  As he lowered his head, she caught the slight upward tick of his mouth. Knowing he was okay with kissing her, even possibly looking forward to it if the smile was any indication, made the fluttery sensation in her stomach beat madly. Excitement undulated through her, fear following at its heels.

  Everything she knew about being kissed was either from watching television or what she experienced in high school. By college, her father was restricting her time in the company of others, specifically men. She’d been sheltered far too long and now, before her, was a man who could do more with her than a chaste kiss in front of his hometown.

  He was her husband.

  Please let him be a good kisser.

  Meredith swallowed. Her hands shook from both the anticipation of his touch and the realization of what she’d done, so she clutched the bouquet harder.

  What did she know about how to have a healthy relationship with a man? One who she was growing increasingly attracted to. One who left her mouth dry and her palms wet. Yes, she’d been kissed before. She’d even contemplated second base with a boy in her trigonometry class, but that was high school, and this? This was the big league. In actuality, this could be for keeps. More importantly, she had every right to him.

  Thinking that made her feel antiquated and prudish. Just because they were married, she could now touch him? Perhaps, though, this was important since their situation was unique. She was his wife. He was her man, and when his soft lips pressed to hers, the earth on which she stood trembled, and she lost the ability to breathe. Kissing him was better than any book she'd read or love scene she watched. Her heart accelerated as every nerve ending sizzled, and she was consumed with the urge to pull him closer, deeper.

  “Meredith?” he murmured as he drew back. “What are you thinking so hard about?”

  “I, uh…” She
felt as if a fireball exploded before her, her skin hot and damp.

  Jace chuckled. “Yeah, me, too.” He popped his hat back on his head, took her hand, and then turned to the crowd.

  “If you all will excuse us. Thank you for coming.”

  Meredith was certain she was about to expire from the intense burning coming from within her.

  “Aren’t we going to celebrate?” someone called from the pews.

  “That’s the plan. As soon as I can get her back to the ranch.” Jace stepped down from the altar, pulling her with him.

  The crowd laughed. Her knees wobbled.

  “Now come on, son. You know we all want to share this day with you.” Marjory turned away from them and faced the crowd. “Since we were given virtually no notice, I’d like to invite you all to the diner for some coffee and dessert.”

  The crowd cheered and began to shuffle toward the parish doors, leaving Jace and Meredith stuck at the back of the line.

  Jace sighed. “Looks like we’ll have to revisit those thoughts later. Mom will never let us escape.”

  If she was good at one thing, it was working a crowd, pretending she had nowhere else to be when she really wanted to be anywhere else.

  With his hand now resting on the small of her back, he guided her down the aisle and back into the church classroom. “Let's grab your coat.” He opened the closet and gestured to the long cream-colored coat hanging inside.

  After taking it from the hanger, he held it open for her to slip on. Though layered enough to offer warmth, it was too pretty for the rugged country. It would go in the closet with his suit, only to be used if she went with him to Texas for auctions and not likely then, as it was too heavy for that climate.

  “You do have other coats?” The lack of knowledge that he possessed about her was astounding. He’d already learned some important things, like she fit perfectly against his side, her lips were uncharacteristically soft, not yet chapped from the change of seasons, and she sighed deeply when he’d kissed her. A sound so becoming he’d wanted to keep at it and see what other noises she’d make.