The Accidental Bride

by Denise Hunter

  Shay popped to her feet, scrambled for the crutches she’d graduated to. “I have to go. The pie bake-off . . .”

  Travis abandoned his sandwich and stood. “Right. The bake-off. Pies.” He smiled at Ida Mae and Vern. “Thank y’all for sharing your table.”

  “Our pleasure, kiddos. Best of luck to y’all,” Ida Mae called.

  Shay struggled across the uneven ground. Travis tried to help, but she shook off his hand.

  By the time they finally reached the boardwalk, perspiration dotted her forehead. Her crutches thumped on the planks, interrupted by the step of her good foot. The sun had sunk behind the mountains, and twilight was falling like a hazy curtain.

  “You took the bus?” Travis asked.

  “How’d you think I got home?”

  “I didn’t know—”

  “That’s right, you didn’t.” He hadn’t thought about her at all. Didn’t know the first thing about love.

  “Why didn’t your dad come?”

  She gave a harsh laugh. “He said I’d managed a way to Cody and I could manage my own way back. They didn’t speak to me for weeks. Wouldn’t even let me back in the house. I lived with Miss Lucy for three months, McCoy.”

  She was just getting warmed up. “And did you realize, while you were busy turning yellow, that you had my belongings in the back of your truck? That I had not a stitch of clothes other than the gown on my back? I had no money, nothing, did you realize that? Did you know I had to beg a stranger for bus fare to get me home?”

  He pulled her around a corner, away from the crowded walk. They came to a stop in the long narrow alley between the post office and Pappy’s Market. So close to where she’d been unceremoniously deposited that day.

  Shay’s breath came fast and hard, her hands clenching the handles of the crutches. Travis stood too close, and she fixed her eyes on the pearly buttons of his plaid shirt.

  “I’m so sorry.”

  She could tell he meant it, but it would’ve been real nice to hear it sooner, like fourteen years ago when she thought he didn’t give a flying fig.

  “Shay, look at me.”

  He tipped her chin up, and she let him, though she was sure sparks were shooting from her eyes. What he’d done was inexcusable, and to wait so long to acknowledge her feelings was worse.

  “I wish I could do something. I wish I could make it up to you.”

  He had all kinds of regret in his eyes. That stubborn lock of hair protruded from under his hat, falling across his forehead and tangling with his lashes. His eyes were bold, almost burning her with intensity.

  She lowered her gaze, following the straight line of his nose. A fine layer of stubble covered his upper lip and jaw. Her fingers twitched with the desire to feel its roughness against her skin.

  The familiarity of him made it way too easy to slip right back into their old roles.

  Drat the man. He was too darn handsome for his own good.

  She was suddenly weary. So tired. Today had been wearing. She closed her eyes and leaned against the wood siding.

  “We should get you off your feet. Let’s find a seat for the fireworks.”

  The thought of more people, more questions, was overwhelming. “I want to go home, Travis. I’m so tired . . .” Of being married. Of people staring. Of fighting the pull of Travis McCoy.

  “I have the perfect spot. No people, just wide-open sky. You can lie down and watch in peace. I promise.”

  Like she’d get any rest with Travis stretched out beside her. Sleep had been nothing but fitful since his arrival. Maybe that’s why she was so worn out.

  “Come on, Shay . . . I haven’t seen Moose Creek’s display for years. I’ve missed it.”

  At the tone in his voice, she opened her eyes and fell right into his. I’ve missed you, they seemed to say.

  “What d’ya say? I’ll call Wade and ask them to bring Olivia home after the show.”

  Wasn’t like Shay could drive herself home. “Fine, whatever.”

  Several minutes later they were pulling into her long drive. “I thought we were—”

  “Shh.” A hundred yards into the drive he eased the truck to a stop, put it in park, and shut off the engine. “Wait here.”

  Like she had a choice. She heard him fumbling around in the bed of the truck and then her door was opening.

  She turned on the seat, but he was empty-handed. “My crutches?”

  He turned his back to her. “Hop on.”

  Wrap her arms around his neck? Her legs around his waist? It was the last thing she wanted to do.

  He backed his tush up to the seat, and she fought the urge to scoot away.

  “Sometime tonight?”

  “How far we going?”

  “Five whole feet to the back of the truck. Come on, night’s a-wasting.”

  Just around to the back. A three-second ride was all.

  She huffed, then put her hands on his shoulders and curled her legs around his middle, attaching herself to him like an awkward backpack. “Just so you know, I’d rather be in bed.”

  “Music to my ears, darlin’.” He bumped the door closed with his knee.

  She thumped him on the back of the head, and his hat fell to the ground. He just chuckled and hitched her higher.

  Up close, she could smell the faint hint of musk, feel the warmth of his back against her belly, the strength of his shoulders under her. He’d always been strong and capable. And protective. He’d gotten in a brawl over her their senior year when Zack Torrell cornered her by the boys’ locker room.

  A second later he was lowering her onto the tailgate. She inched back over what felt like a lumpy sleeping bag.

  “Go ahead, get comfy. We should have a perfect view.”

  She lay down, clasped her hands on her stomach while he retrieved his hat. Overhead, stars flickered in the velvety night sky like a million fireflies. They already had a perfect view. The air smelled of sweet hay, and grasshoppers chirped their high-pitched calls. A light breeze blew, rustling the tall grass.

  The truck dipped as Travis hopped in. He settled beside her, his movements loud and clanging against the hollow floor of the truck. His body was a hair’s breadth from hers. The warmth of his arm brushed hers. The truck seemed narrow as a twin bed. She could feel her heart thumping against the metal floor and wondered if she was imagining the vibrations.

  It was surreal, being here with him. A month ago he’d been a distant memory, and a bad one at that.

  Come on, Shay, that’s not quite true.

  He’d been her best friend. They’d spent hours together fishing, laughing, talking. And little by little, she’d fallen in love with him. She’d kept her feelings to herself, sure he liked Marla Jenkins, not her. But then she’d dared him to kiss her that day in her parents’ barn and had walked away with more than she’d bargained for.

  “Wasn’t so bad, was it?” His voice was low and quiet under the moonlit night.

  “What?”

  “Today, being together.”

  She turned her head. “You kidding me? I feel like I’ve been through a shredder.”

  “They’re just curious.”

  “Do you have any idea how many questions I fielded today? God only knows what they really think. Folks never say what’s really on their minds.”

  “Who cares what people think?”

  She scowled in the darkness. “Easy for you to say.”

  He looked at her. “What’s that mean?”

  Could he really not know? His face was too shadowed to read. She looked away. “Never mind.”

  How could he understand? He’d never worn secondhand clothes or had to borrow textbooks from friends. He’d never worn boots until they squeezed his toes or rolled up his shirtsleeves to hide how short they’d gotten.

  The fireworks began, a starburst of red exploding overhead, followed by white fizzles of light. She was grateful for the interruption.

  Everything came so easily for Travis. He was the Golden Boy. Alway
s had been and always would be. She didn’t resent him for it, but it kept him from understanding the likes of her.

  “You still don’t understand,” he said.

  She looked at him. “I don’t understand?”

  “That’s right, you.”

  She wished she could see his face.

  “You never understood how special you are.”

  She pressed her lips together and stared at the sky. Oh yeah, she was special. So special he’d ditched her in favor of a dusty ride to Texas. Or had he forgotten?

  Green and white bloomed overhead.

  “What was your husband like?”

  The question, coming out of nowhere, took her aback. “None of your business.”

  Two booms followed, and a slow-burning sizzle filled the silence.

  “Fair enough.” He clasped his hands under his head. His elbow rested against the top of her head.

  “I almost came back, you know. Six months later.”

  Six months. She’d just gotten married. “Oh?”

  “Took me awhile to realize what I’d left, Shay, but not fourteen years.”

  She tried to swallow and found her throat dry. Her heart echoed the booms of the fireworks. “What changed your mind?”

  “My folks told me you were married.”

  She’d wondered at the time if he knew—when he’d found out and how. Funny thing was, she’d convinced herself he wouldn’t care. But he made it sound like he did. She wondered what would’ve happened if she hadn’t married Garrett. Was Travis saying he would’ve come back?

  “In the back of my mind, when I left, I thought we’d be together someday.”

  She humphed, barely a sound.

  “Arrogant, I know. To think I could just drop you and get you back again at my own whim.”

  “Blame right.”

  “Well, I didn’t expect you to fall right into some other guy’s arms.”

  Who did he think he was?

  “You leave a girl at the altar and she’s free to fall into whoever’s arms she wants.” Never mind that she’d been completely humiliated. Of course she’d snatch up the first attention thrown her way, try to prove to everyone she was worthy of a man’s love.

  “Yeah, well, he’s gone, and you’re stuck with me now.”

  “Stuck is exactly the right word.”

  And yes, Garrett was gone, as Travis so bluntly pointed out. He didn’t have to remind her of that. She and Olivia had hardly had time to grieve Garrett’s desertion before they were hit with his death. Olivia slept in Shay’s bed for almost eighteen months, and Shay wondered if her daughter feared she would leave her too. She held on to her extra tight through those months and begged God for strength to get them through.

  They watched the fireworks in silence for five minutes, ten, awkwardness hanging around them like a heavy summer fog.

  Her phone buzzed in her pocket. Probably Olivia. She shimmied it out and looked at the screen.

  Beau. Could this night get any worse? She’d seen him today from a distance and had managed to steer Travis a different direction. She shut off the ringer and pocketed the phone.

  “Not gonna answer?”

  “Nope.”

  The fireworks picked up overhead, colorful blooms with thunderous booms and pops. The sounds ricocheted off the mountains. She’d never been so glad to see the finale.

  “Was it Meyers?”

  She sighed. What business was it of his? It was her phone, her life.

  “He has no business calling you.”

  For pity’s sake. “Just a phone call, Travis.”

  “You’re a married woman.”

  “Barely.”

  “Can’t be barely married—you either are or you’re not—and I have a certificate that says we are.”

  The fireworks fizzled to nothing but darkness and silence.

  “It’s over.” Relieved, Shay sat up and inched toward the tailgate, but not before Travis’s quiet response reached her ears.

  “Not by a long shot.”

  18

  Shay hobbled to the kitchen for water. After the fireworks Travis had gone to check on a sick mare. Shay was glad for the reprieve and thankful when Olivia returned, though her daughter went straight to her room.

  Shay filled a sipper cup and put the lid on tight so she didn’t spill it as she hobbled to her room. She was crossing the kitchen threshold when she heard something.

  She paused.

  A sniffling sound came from the direction of Olivia’s room. Was she catching a summer cold? Developing allergies? Another sniffle, this one with the unmistakable shuddering that resulted from a good cry.

  Shay set down her water, shuffled to her daughter’s door, and tapped lightly. “Olivia?”

  The sniffling stopped, and a beat of silence filled the house.

  “What?”

  “Can I come in?”

  Shay heard only the ticking of the wall clock and distant booms from a private Fourth of July celebration. “I know you’re crying.” She opened the door.

  Olivia sat on the bed, cradling her pillow. Her nose was red, her eyes glassy.

  Shay eased down on the edge of the bed and propped her crutches against the nightstand. “What’s wrong, hon?”

  Olivia swiped her hand across her face. “Nothing.”

  “Come on now. You’re not one to cry over nothing.” She wondered if the girls had gotten into an argument and said hurtful things. It would be a first.

  Olivia tossed her hair, her eyes shooting fire. “It’s that stupid Katy O’Neil and her sidekicks!” Angry tears coursed down her face.

  “What happened?” Shay rubbed Olivia’s arm.

  “Me and Maddy were just playing with some sparklers Abigail gave us, you know, over by the playground area before the show.” She took a shuddery breath. “We were just minding our own business, and Katy started making fun of me.”

  “What did she say?”

  New tears filled Olivia’s eyes. “She said I dress like a hobo! All her friends started calling me Olivia Hoboberger!” Olivia cradled her face and sobbed into her hands.

  Shay’s stomach bottomed out. It was all her fault. She hadn’t provided Olivia with all the things the other girls had.

  “She asked if I shop at the Goodwill.” Olivia raised her face, and the hurt in her eyes about killed Shay. “It’s not fair! She thinks she’s so hot just because her dad’s rich.”

  It wasn’t fair. The injustice of it made Shay’s stomach tighten into a hard knot. “What did you do?”

  “Maddy told her to be quiet, but Katy wouldn’t. She came closer, calling me that name, and I shoved her right on her rear end!”

  Shay pursed her lips, holding back a smile. Part of her was glad Olivia had stood up for herself. “Do you think that was wise?”

  “It was self-defense—even Maddy said so.”

  “What happened next?”

  Olivia shrugged, wiping her tears. “The fireworks started, and those stupid girls left.”

  Shay hated seeing her daughter hurt. It made her feel helpless, just like when Garrett had left.

  But she wasn’t helpless now. She had money in the bank, at least for a while. She could buy Olivia new clothes—could buy her a whole new wardrobe if she wanted. She hated using Travis’s money. But it was part of the agreement, and no one had twisted his arm. Besides, one day she’d pay him back. She was set on that.

  “I’m sorry, munchkin. Those girls had no right saying that or being mean. You’re twice the person Katy O’Neil is, and you have a great friend in Maddy.”

  “I know.” She sniffled.

  “No more fretting, okay?” Shay wiped Olivia’s face dry. “Try to get some sleep now.”

  “All right.” Olivia slid down on the bed.

  Shay tucked her in, pecked her on the cheek, and gathered her crutches before leaving the room. When she entered the living room, Travis was picking out a tune on his guitar.

  He stopped when she entered. “What’s
wrong?”

  Shay shuffled to the end table beside him and collected her water. “Some girls tonight—they teased Olivia about her clothes.”

  Dashes formed between his eyes. “What about ’em?”

  “Well, they’re not exactly . . .” Shay searched for the name of a fancy brand and came up empty. “They’re not what the popular girls are wearing. I’m taking her shopping this weekend.”

  Travis picked a couple more notes. “They seem fine to me.”

  Shay pursed her lips. Of course he’d say that. He’d had all the nice clothes he’d wanted when he was a child. Besides, he was a man. “You wouldn’t understand.”

  “Olivia’s a smart and loving girl. She’s got everything that matters. ’Sides, kids are always gonna find something to pick on.”

  Shay shifted her weight. “She is smart and loving, but know what? If I can do this one little thing to make life easier, I’m gonna do it.”

  “I understand your wanting to fix things, but do you think that’s wise?”

  He was advising her on parenting matters? Did he really think he knew best? Or maybe it was the money.

  “Fine. I’ll sell a cow and then take her shopping.”

  “That’s not what I meant, Shay. You don’t want her thinking her worth comes from clothes. Or that those girls’ opinions really matter.”

  “Of course they matter. Were you ever a teenager? I’m taking her shopping.”

  Their eyes held for a long minute, then finally he nodded. “By all means use the money in your account. It’s at your disposal, as promised.”

  Naturally he wouldn’t see her side. But how could he know how hard it was to have so little? Shay turned toward the bedroom, already planning their trip to Bozeman on Saturday.

  19

  She’s looking real good.” Travis squatted down on the mound of fresh straw where Olivia was bottle-feeding a calf. Maddy sat at the other end, stroking the cow’s hide.

  “I think so too,” Olivia said. She and her mom had spent the day in Bozeman shopping. Now Olivia wore a new pair of jeans with fancy stitching on the pockets and a robin’s-egg blue scoop-neck blouse with a white shirt peeking out at the neckline.