The Accidental Bride

by Denise Hunter

  She shook her head. “No. Whatever it is, no.”

  “Are you in danger of losing your ranch?”

  His gentle tone didn’t soften the effect. She wondered if John Oakley had leaked her private business. “My finances are no business of yours, McCoy.”

  “What if I could help?”

  She had her pride. It was about all she had sometimes, but still. “I can manage on my own, thank you.” She’d manage all right. In a short time she’d manage herself and Olivia right off the property.

  “Where’s Beau? I half expected to see him here this morning.”

  She didn’t want to talk about Beau. Not to Travis. “I forgot to call.”

  “How serious are the two of you?”

  “That’s your business, how?”

  He shrugged. “Wondering how the news of our marriage was going to hit him.”

  “It’s not a marriage, it’s a mistake.”

  “I’ve got a proposal, Shay.”

  She tilted her head. “Last one didn’t stick too well.”

  “Just hear me out.”

  Shay stifled a yawn. Durn pills. She may as well suffer through whatever he had stuck in his craw. That was the only way she was gonna get him out of there.

  “Spill it.”

  He leaned forward, and his hair fell over his forehead. Her fingers twitched with the impulse to reach out and push it back. She knotted her fist.

  “You already had your hands pretty full. Now you’re under doctor’s orders to stay off your foot a week. Even after that, you’ll be on crutches awhile.”

  “Thanks for the recap.”

  “I have the time and know-how to run things until you’re back on your feet.”

  It was true. She didn’t have to like it, but it was true.

  “And I’m willing. I also have the wherewithal to carry this place through the summer and beyond. Feed, fencing supplies, groceries, whatever you need.”

  He had no idea how much she needed and how quickly. “I don’t need your money.”

  That wasn’t true. She didn’t want to need his money.

  But she had Olivia to think of. Olivia who needed a roof over her head, Olivia whose jeans were inching farther north each week, Olivia who would need milk money and school supply money and a heated house come fall. But money didn’t grow on trees. Shay was fresh out, and no one else was offering.

  Still, nothing was free. “What’s the catch?”

  There was one. She could see it in the way he eyed her warily, as if appraising her readiness to hear whatever he was about to say. The look sped her heart and dried her mouth. Before she could stop him, his words filled the thick space between them.

  “I want us to stay married.”

  13

  Shay’s head was fuzzy, her thinking cloudy. The pills. She hadn’t heard right. He hadn’t just suggested they make this marriage real.

  “Hear me, Shay? I want us to stay married.”

  “What the heck. Stop saying that.”

  “Give it five months. Think about it . . . I can fill in around here, relieve you of financial strain, offer some stability for Olivia. Wouldn’t it be nice not to worry about money for once?”

  “Stop it! What kind of harebrained idea—This was a mistake.”

  “It doesn’t have to be.”

  “You’re crazy.”

  “Am I?”

  He had to be. Because from her perspective this seemed awful one-sided. She got the help. She got the money. Maybe he was lonely for a woman and weary of the unwanted strings necessary to get one. Maybe he remembered the chemistry they’d had once upon a time, the sizzle that arced between them whenever they’d touched.

  He was out of his mind if he thought she was joining that circus again. She crossed her arms. “What’s in it for you, McCoy?”

  He looked down at his fingers, toying with the brim of his hat. Then he shot her a look that made her breath catch. That set her veins on fire and weakened her limbs.

  “I want another chance, Shay.”

  Another . . . what? He couldn’t mean it that way. Yet he was looking at her like . . .

  Worse yet, an invisible force tugged at her heart, trying to convince her to believe something she knew was reckless and foolish. After all he’d done, after all the pain she’d gone through, she had to admit he still had a hold on her.

  Travis watched Shay blink once, watched the confusion dance across her face like ripples over a river. He’d made her speechless, not an easy task.

  “I know I don’t deserve it,” he said. “But I’m asking just the same.”

  Shay sprang to her feet. Then her broken foot hit the floor beside the other. “Blame it!”

  Travis stood, reached toward her. “Shay—”

  She swatted his hand away and sank back onto the cushions. “Get out.”

  Her breaths came hard and heavy. Her face was flushed, whether with anger or exertion he wasn’t sure. Still, this was the only chance he was going to get.

  “Not until I finish.”

  She shot him a look. Her nose flared.

  She was a captive audience if there ever was one, and she knew it. But maybe a little space was in order. He paced across the room and leaned against the windowsill.

  “I’m only asking for five months. I’ll run things around here till you’re back on your feet. After that we can work side by side. I’ll foot the bill—pardon the pun—for anything you need. Anything at all.”

  Did he sound too desperate? Because he was. He’d take her back at any cost, but he couldn’t let her know that.

  “What kind of game is this?”

  “It’s no game, Shay.” If she only knew how serious he was. “I have regrets.”

  He’d already scared the tar out of her. He could see it in her eyes, in the way she’d shot from the sofa. She was as spooked as a cornered cat. Maybe he shouldn’t have told her he wanted a second chance. Maybe he should’ve made something up.

  But he wasn’t going into this with trickery. He was shooting straight, right from the get-go. If that spooked her, so be it. Lucky for him, she didn’t have many options.

  “Don’t you ever wonder what would’ve happened if we’d gotten married?” he asked.

  “No, I don’t.”

  He hoped that wasn’t true. If it was, he really had his work cut out. “Five months. A real effort to make this work.”

  “And when it doesn’t?”

  He didn’t like her pessimism. “If it doesn’t . . . I’ll leave. I’ll give you an annulment—if that’s still an option . . .”

  She was shaking her head, clutching the pillow against her stomach like her life depended on it. “No.”

  What did he go and say that for?

  “Don’t need your answer now. Mull it over.” He put his hat on his head.

  “Don’t need to.”

  He glanced out the window. “Olivia’s ’bout done with the weeding. All right if I keep my promise?”

  Her lips pressed together. She was tempted to say no, but she wouldn’t. “Fine. Have her back in an hour. And not one word of this.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” He touched the brim of his hat. “Stay off that foot now.” He left just in time. The pillow hit the door right behind him.

  14

  Mr. McCoy showed me how to skip rocks.” Olivia moved her bowl closer on the TV tray. She’d fixed a corn and black bean salad for them after Shay had insisted that Travis finally leave.

  Shay hadn’t had a pain pill in hours, not wanting to doze off again, but she was taking one before bed, that was for sure.

  “He can make ’em skip, like, ten or twelve times. I’m not that good yet, but he told me if you pick a real flat one . . .”

  Shay set the fork on her empty plate and resisted the urge to roll her eyes. All she’d heard since Olivia had returned was Mr. McCoy this, Mr. McCoy that. She was going to gag at the next mention of his name.

  “. . . and Mr. McCoy said . . .”

  Heave
n help me.

  She’d been napping when they returned—hadn’t woken until afternoon. By then Travis had fixed the corral fence, organized the tack room, and apparently held the world on its axis.

  She couldn’t get his offer off her mind, crazy as it was. She even called the county clerk’s office, making sure it was just as Travis said.

  Still, they could file for an annulment. A little paperwork, a little time, and all this would be over. Only one thing had stopped her from doing it.

  Her ranch. She needed the money and the help. They’d only managed today because of Travis. Her friends had ranches of their own, financial problems of their own. The recession had hit everyone hard.

  Everyone except Travis, apparently.

  One minute she’d find herself thinking this was the perfect solution. It would give them half a shot at stability, if only for five months. But if she was smart, she could set them up for the future. Could make some investments that would pay dividends down the road and give her enough operating capital to keep things going long term.

  Then she’d remember the look in his eyes.

  She didn’t need that. Didn’t want his . . . whatever it was. How could she protect her heart for five long months? Waking to him every morning, working side by side, sitting across from him meal after meal after meal.

  And then she’d decided, no. She couldn’t do it. Wouldn’t risk her heart with a man who’d already cut and run once before. Wouldn’t face the whispers when everyone thought they were together again. The looks of pity when—

  The lights went out, and the whirring fan of the air conditioner went quiet.

  “Mom?”

  The tray rattled as Shay set her spoon in her bowl.

  “What happened, Mom? It’s not storming . . .” Her daughter’s voice sounded younger than her years.

  Maybe it was a breaker. Or someone hitting a pole. “I’m not sure.” Shay pushed her tray back. Who was she kidding? It wasn’t a breaker, and there was no accident. “We’re a little behind on the electric bill.”

  And the mortgage. And the phone. And the credit card. Did she really think they wouldn’t follow through on their threat to shut it off?

  “What are we gonna do?”

  Shay had exactly $72.54 in the bank. She was saving that for groceries, but she wondered if it was enough to get the electricity back.

  “Let me make a phone call.” She pulled out her cell, dialed the number.

  Ten minutes later she turned off her phone and set it on the TV tray. Now she had to pay a turn-on fee in addition to her bill. If she’d had the cash for that, wouldn’t she have paid it already?

  And what about the other bills? What about the mortgage? This was only electricity. What was going to happen when she lost the house too? When the bank came and collected everything they owned to pay back what she owed?

  “They shut it off?”

  She tried for calm. “ ’Fraid so.” She’d tried so hard to shelter Olivia from their financial problems. Intercepting creditor calls, taking them in the other room or just not picking up the phone. But there was no hiding it this time. And there would be no hiding it when they showed up to take the house.

  “What’re we gonna do?” Olivia asked again.

  Shay hated the anxiety that had crept into her daughter’s voice, the worry that puckered her brows. “We’ll figure something out. God’s always taken care of us, hasn’t He? We’ve never gone a day without.”

  “But what about—”

  “Shush. That’s Mom’s problem. Go on outside and find something to do while I figure this out.”

  Olivia cleared the plates and then went outside, hopefully forgetting about the fact that her mom couldn’t manage things on her own.

  Things had never been easy, but she’d spoken the truth. God had always provided. This time, though, Shay wondered if His provision would turn out to be the biggest mistake of her life.

  Travis was brushing down Buck when his cell vibrated in his pocket.

  “Yeah,” he answered.

  “All right.”

  It was Shay, and she didn’t sound happy.

  “It’s a deal.”

  He lowered the brush as he realized what she was saying. He didn’t question it, knew he’d better accept her consent before she took it back.

  “I’ll be right over.”

  “Wait!” Her voice shook on the command. “Some rules first . . .”

  “Shoot.” Terms didn’t matter a lick. He’d agree to anything.

  “There’ll be no . . . funny business.”

  His lips twitched. “Not unless you—”

  “I don’t. Another thing . . . when this arrangement ends—”

  “If this arrangement ends.”

  “Fine. If. It needs to be clear it was my doing, my choice. If everyone thinks our marriage is real—”

  “It is real.”

  “You know what I mean. If they think we’re splitting, it was my decision. Understand?”

  “I’ll take out an ad in the Moose Creek Chronicle if you want.”

  “And I’m keeping my name.”

  If she wanted to keep that mouthful-of-a-last-name, more power to her.

  “I’m only doing this because I’m desperate, you know,” she said.

  That was a hard kick to the solar plexus. “Now, Shay, don’t go flattering.”

  “This is business. That’s all.”

  Full disclosure, McCoy. “It’s business for you, I get that. But you need to understand it’s personal for me. As long as we understand each other, I don’t see a problem.”

  The quiet on the other end of the line unsettled him. Maybe full disclosure wasn’t such a bright idea.

  “Fine.”

  He couldn’t stop the smile. “I’ll be right over.”

  “Hold on. I haven’t told Olivia. I’ll tell her tonight—and I’m telling her the whole shebang. It’s only fair she knows this is temporary. You can come in the morning—and you’re sleeping on the sofa.”

  He’d sleep in the barn if he had to. “Anything else?”

  “I’ll let you know.”

  “See you in the morning, then.”

  “Wait. What are you going to tell your parents?”

  “Talked to them this afternoon. I’ll keep tabs on the ranch for them. They know about our marriage—said to tell you congrats.”

  Something like a growl snarled across the line. “Good-bye, McCoy.”

  “Get used to it, darlin’.”

  Her answer was a click followed by a dial tone.

  15

  Travis pulled his truck to Shay’s barn and turned off the ignition. It was predawn, and the house lights were off, the property quiet. Home sweet home. At least for the next five months.

  He exited the cab and made his way toward the barn on buoyant legs. He loved mornings. The crisp air, the smell of dew. But that wasn’t why he could scarcely keep his feet on the ground.

  He didn’t take this second chance for granted. He’d winged a thousand prayers of gratitude skyward since Shay’s call, in between packing his bags and tossing in bed until his alarm sounded.

  He entered the barn and flipped the light switch. Nothing. Strange. He felt his way to the tack room and flipped that one. Same thing.

  Faulty fuse? Electricity out? It hadn’t stormed. There could’ve been an accident, but he’d had electricity at the Barr M.

  Probably just a breaker. He fetched the flashlight in his truck and found the breaker box in the barn. Nothing wrong there. He needed light to work, and the sun wasn’t going to hasten its arrival. He wondered where Shay kept her generator.

  Travis scanned the barn but didn’t see one. He hated to wake her, but chores were waiting.

  Making up his mind, he lit out for the house. The darkened structure took on a new meaning. Electricity probably went out in the middle of the night. Shay’s alarm wouldn’t have gone off.

  He turned off the flashlight as he reached for the doorknob. No
sense spooking them. The door was unlocked, just as he expected. If he’d thought the barn was dark, the house was a cave. He closed the door quietly. The air was cool. The girls must be freezing.

  Two steps in, a phone pealed loudly. Shay’s cell lit up across the room. Maybe it was the electric company. No, not this early.

  Between rings, he heard the bedding rustle in Shay’s room.

  Better answer before Olivia woke too. He started for the phone, bumped his leg on a table, and hobbled the last few steps, biting his tongue.

  He grabbed the phone on what felt like the twentieth ring. “Yeah,” he said quietly.

  No response.

  “Hello?” he said, louder.

  Across the room, there was an awkward thump-thump in the vicinity of Shay’s bedroom. He pictured her standing in the doorway, crutched, rumpled, and most likely glaring. No wonder, after the ruckus he’d made.

  “Who is this?” a voice demanded. Beau Meyers: the riled version.

  Travis walked the phone toward Shay’s shadow. “For you.” What was he doing here, in her house, answering her phone? There was no hiding the lack of electricity now. Of course he had to find out. But she didn’t have to like it. And she didn’t have to like his waltzing into her place like he owned it and answering her personal phone.

  Shay snatched the lit-up cell from his hand. “This is Shay.” It came out like a croak.

  “Was that McCoy?”

  Beau. Perfect. She cleared her throat. “ ’Morning, Beau.”

  “Don’t good morning me, Shay. What’s he doing there?”

  She shouldered the phone, shut the door firmly, adding a glare she knew Travis couldn’t see, and hobbled toward her bed. This was not the way she’d planned to tell Beau. Why hadn’t she just broken things off at the picnic? It was all Travis’s fault. Blast the man.

  “Shay?”

  “It’s a long story. I was going to tell you.”

  “By all means, go right ahead.”

  She couldn’t blame him for being sore. She was a lowlife, letting him think there was more to their relationship. Her foot had begun throbbing. She propped it on the bed.