The Accidental Bride

by Denise Hunter

  “It’s late.” She stood, tugged her nightshirt into place. “Get some sleep.” She turned toward her room. Her body felt heavy, her legs trembling with each step.

  “It won’t go away, you know.”

  His words barely reached her, and when they did, she wished they hadn’t. Did he speak of the ache that had settled beneath her breastbone? The desire that still coursed through her limbs? Or the flame of love that—she was beginning to realize—had never been fully extinguished?

  She entered her room and pushed the door until it clicked, as if she could close the door on her feelings, as if she could shut out the words he’d just spoken. But the door was just a two-inch slab of wood, a useless barrier, and all of it stayed with her until the alarm blared bright and early.

  25

  Travis was already gone by the time Shay was dressed and ready for the day. In the barn, she found the horses fed and the stalls cleaned. Leaving through the back door, she found him loading salt blocks into his truck bed. When he saw her, he stopped and watched her approach.

  If only they could go their separate ways today. What was there to say? He’d kissed her, and she’d been a willing participant. She could’ve at least saved her dignity by pushing him away—before it got out of hand.

  Travis shoved the blocks farther into the truck, then pulled off his gloves and tipped his hat back with the poke of a finger. “ ’Morning.”

  He looked way too handsome in the golden morning light. Bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, like he hadn’t lost a wink of sleep.

  She remembered the sleep-swollen eyes that had stared back at her in the mirror minutes ago and tugged the brim of her hat lower. “ ’Morning.”

  His eyes raked her form, and she knew he was remembering too. Remembering the feel of their lips moving together, the feel of their bodies pressed together, the feel of stirring desire. Embarrassment licked her cheeks.

  He, on the other hand, looked her right in the eye, bold as a grizzly and twice as smug. No regrets here, they seemed to say.

  He cocked a brow just to make it clear he’d welcome a repeat right here and now.

  “I’ll fetch my gloves.” She scurried toward the barn as though her feet were on fire, longing for the days when she was trapped in the house with a splint on her foot.

  Despite the awkward start, they fell into a rhythm as the morning progressed. She drove the pickup, and he put out the salt blocks. Before long, he was teasing her about dropping a block on her foot. After that chore was done, they hit leather, moving the cattle to better grazing territory—a job made simpler with two people.

  The herd looked healthy, the calves well fed. They stuck to their mamas’ sides like burrs on flannel and bawled when they were separated. By the time she and Travis returned to the house for dinner, Shay’s stomach was rumbling.

  Abigail’s car was in the drive, and Shay spotted her friend on the porch with Olivia and Maddy.

  When Shay dismounted, Travis took her reins. “I got it.”

  “I can do it myself.”

  “Go visit with your friend.” He led both horses into the pen, leaving Shay to glare after him.

  “Abigail brought pictures,” Olivia said as Shay neared the porch.

  “Birthday pictures.” Abigail handed them to Shay. “They’re not so good.”

  “Why not?” Shay lowered herself into the wooden chair.

  “Let’s just say I haven’t gotten the hang of my new camera.”

  Shay opened the packet and shuffled through the pictures. The subjects were blurry more often than not, and random objects in the foreground were in focus instead.

  “I don’t know, Abs, this is a great picture.”

  “Yeah, of a Coke can.”

  They laughed.

  “I like that one,” Maddy said.

  The burger in Shay’s hand was frozen in time, crisply in focus—while Shay’s face faded into the blurry background.

  “I guess I need a little practice,” Abigail said. “Sorry I ruined the only pictures of your surprise party.”

  Shay tapped her temple. “It’s all up here.”

  “Can I go to Maddy’s for the afternoon?” Olivia asked.

  “I was hoping for an extra pair of hands in the garden,” Abigail said.

  Shay would be working anyway. “Don’t see why not.”

  Seeming satisfied, Maddy and Olivia ran toward Travis.

  Shay watched him work, noting his sturdy legs, his muscular arms, his strong hands as they removed the horses’ bridles. Hands rough with calluses. She could still feel them on her arms, on her face. A tingle raced down her spine.

  Shay tore her eyes away. “Thanks for bringing these over.”

  Abigail lowered her chin and narrowed her eyes. “What happened . . . ?”

  “What?”

  “Don’t be coy. Something happened.”

  Was she that transparent? Shay pursed her lips and sighed hard.

  Abigail leaned forward, elbows on her knees. “Tell all. And quick, before they come back.”

  Shay toyed with the frayed edge of her shirt. “It was nothing.”

  If she told herself that enough, maybe she’d believe it. Kisses happened all the time. Meaningless, empty kisses that led nowhere. Kisses you forgot about the instant they ended.

  “He kissed you.”

  Shay frowned. “What are you, a mind reader?”

  Abigail snorted. “It hardly takes a mind reader. You should see the look on your face. Whoo-boy, that must’ve been some kiss.”

  “It was just a regular, old run-of-the-mill kiss.”

  “I’d like to run that mill awhile.”

  Shay tilted her head. “You’re practically a newlywed. I’m sure your mill’s just fine.”

  Abigail gave a furtive smile. “Well, true. But there’s nothing like that first kiss.”

  “Hardly a first.”

  “Well, the wedding kiss didn’t count, not really. And it’s been a lifetime since the others.”

  A lifetime. It didn’t feel like a lifetime. It was all so fresh, these feelings. She felt eighteen again, young and silly-in-love.

  You are not in love with him. She had been once upon a time. This was just . . . nostalgia or something. She shook the uncomfortable thought away.

  “Shay . . . ?”

  “We’re talking about Travis here. He’s pushy and arrogant and—and he does my crossword puzzles.”

  “I didn’t know you did crossword puzzles.”

  “Well . . . I don’t, but still.” It was her paper, wasn’t it? Her house. He could’ve asked.

  “Back to the kiss . . . ,” Abigail said.

  “The kiss was a mistake. A middle-of-the-night mistake of monumental proportions.”

  Abigail perked up. “Middle of the night?”

  Shay gave a mock glare. “Middle-of-the-night mistake. We were half asleep.” She lifted her chin. “My guard was down.”

  “You didn’t . . .”

  “Of course we didn’t.”

  “Well, you are married—in the eyes of God and man.”

  “I wish everyone would stop reminding me of that.”

  “It would be perfectly natural.”

  “It would be perfectly awful.”

  Well, not the act itself. That would be . . . She shivered at the thought. Then she crossed her arms, pretending to be chilled lest Abigail make something of it.

  “If you say so,” her friend said.

  Across the yard Travis lifted his hat and placed it on Olivia’s head. Her daughter made a muscle, showing her guns. Travis laughed, the sound of it barely carrying over the wind. Olivia rose on tiptoe and put the hat back on Travis’s head. He gave her ponytail a tug before heading toward the porch.

  It wasn’t butterflies that danced in Shay’s stomach at his approach. It was hunger. Desperation welled up at the thought of being alone again.

  “Wanna stay for lunch?” she asked.

  Abigail’s lips twitched. “Sorry, but we’re mee
ting Aunt Lucy at the Tin Roof.”

  “You’re not going to invite me?”

  “No way. You’re stuck here. Just you and your hubby.”

  Shay narrowed her eyes. “Some friend. Let me grab some money for Olivia.”

  Abigail waved her off. “I got it.” She stood as Travis approached.

  He tipped his hat. “Abigail.”

  “Travis. Nice to see you.” She passed him, called for the girls, then turned to Shay and wiggled her eyebrows.

  Traitor. Thank God Travis had his back to her.

  “See ya later,” Abigail called.

  “ ’Bye, Mom! ’Bye, Travis!”

  “Tell Miss Lucy I said hello,” Shay said.

  “Will do.”

  Shay watched them slip into the car and roll down the lane, then she went inside to wash up. This was no big deal. They’d been alone all day. What was wrong with her?

  Minutes later she and Travis were seated at the table, scarfing down the sandwiches and soup they’d put together. Shay shuffled through Abigail’s pictures while they ate, avoiding eye contact with Travis.

  “You and Abigail were deep in conversation,” he said.

  She made a pointed effort to prevent her face from heating. “So?”

  The corner of his lip hitched up. “Good stuff?” His twinkling eyes said more than his words.

  Arrogant. He assumed they were talking about him. About his kiss.

  “You know, women talk about more than just men.”

  “That so?”

  “Exactly so.” She shot him a look, then stacked the pictures and handed them to him.

  “Thanks for the insight.” He looked through the pictures, frowning. “These are the strangest pictures I’ve ever seen.”

  “She hasn’t gotten the hang of the autofocus.”

  “No kidding.” He shuffled through the pile, smiling here and there. Not that she was watching.

  For pity’s sake, stop it, Shay. Think about something else.

  The soup was good. Rich broth with chunks of chicken, cubed carrots, and slippery noodles. Just the right touch of pepper. Never mind that it was canned. It was something to think about. Something other than the man who took up a whole side of the table.

  “Can I ask you something?” He turned a blurry picture of Olivia and Maddy toward her. “How come Olivia never smiles?”

  “She’s smiling.”

  “You know what I mean.”

  Shay shrugged. “Doesn’t like her teeth. The bottom ones are a little crooked. It’s not that bad, she’s just self-conscious.”

  He frowned at the photo. “She need braces?”

  Shay gave a wry laugh. “That would be helpful, yes.”

  “Doesn’t she want them?”

  “Sure she does.” Shay had started saving for them two years before, but then her transmission went out and the furnace needed repairing. Every time she saved a little, something went wrong.

  “Let’s do it, then.”

  Shay shot him a look. The man acted like money grew on trees. She hated to turn it down, but she’d already racked up a huge debt. How would she ever pay him back?

  “Absolutely not.”

  “It’s part of our deal—I said I’d provide the necessities.”

  “Braces are hardly a necessity.”

  “Last time I checked, a pretty smile was a necessity.”

  Shay looked at the picture of Olivia. She was laughing, but she’d pulled her lips over her teeth like she always did. She didn’t want her daughter hiding her smile. Still, this was above and beyond. Would Travis expect something in return? Would she feel she owed him something?

  “No strings attached,” he said.

  She was torn between her daughter and her pride. Not for the first time.

  “Come on, Shay. I never had a child to spoil. Think I might enjoy it.”

  He did enjoy spoiling. The look on his face when she’d opened her boots was proof of that. And who was she to be wearing fancy boots while her daughter went around covering her smile?

  She’d do it, she decided. For Olivia’s sake. But this is it, Shay. Don’t go getting used to his help. This is only temporary.

  “All right.” Just two words, and she felt like she’d lost a war.

  Travis’s smile broadened. “Let’s tell her tonight.”

  When they finished for the day, Travis went to check on the Barr M while Shay started supper. He’d decided the night before, as he lay in bed wanting Shay, that he was going to buy her a real wedding band. Not the handed-down cheap piece of tin she was wearing, but a real, brand-new, fine gold one from him.

  He couldn’t buy it in Moose Creek without starting the rumor mill, so while he was at his folks’ house, he did a little online browsing. He settled on a simple gold band with some fine beveling at the edge. It was made from quality materials by a reputable company, and the simple design suited Shay.

  Travis filled out his credit and shipping info and clicked Buy. There. It was done. The timing wasn’t right yet, but when the moment arrived, the ring would be waiting.

  He printed out the receipt, then gathered the bills. He was just turning off the lights when his cell rang. Seth’s name showed on the ID.

  “Hey, buddy,” Travis said.

  “Did you hear?”

  “Hear what?”

  “We made it!” Seth let out a whoop Travis could’ve heard clear from Texas.

  Travis pulled the phone from his ear, smiling. “The finals?”

  “You and me, baby! Fourteenth place, but still. What do you expect when you deserted me halfway through the season?”

  He smiled at his friend’s teasing. “Well, don’t that beat all. Your first finals.”

  “You finaled in steer and tie roping too, dude.”

  “What d’ya know. Congrats, man.”

  “You too. Gotta run. You’d better be practicing, partner.”

  “Don’t worry, I’ll be in top form.”

  Travis turned off his phone and locked up his parents’ house.

  The finals were the first full week of December. Since they had to arrive early, he’d have to leave just before Thanksgiving. He’d miss his parents’ return by a couple days.

  Worse, he’d be leaving about the time his and Shay’s arrangement ended. He wondered how the news would hit her. Would she feel he was leaving her for the rodeo again? If it were just him, he’d gladly pass it up, but Seth was depending on him. He couldn’t burst his buddy’s dream.

  He’d break the news to Shay later. Maybe he could invite her along. Just as quickly, he discounted the idea. Olivia would be in school, and there was no one else to run her ranch. Besides, she’d never leave the ranch or Olivia for a couple weeks.

  Shay was glad for the respite when Travis went to the Barr M. She hoped Olivia arrived before he returned. But what if she didn’t come home for hours? Last night had changed things. What were they going to do all evening, here, all alone? How was she going to manage for two more months? How was she going to avoid a repeat of last night, with Travis tossing her those sexy smiles?

  The house felt stuffy and too warm. Too small. She made an impromptu decision to eat at the picnic table where the breeze would carry the manly smell of him someplace else.

  She was setting the food on the table when she heard his truck rumble up the drive. Just a simple, quick little supper, then Olivia would be home and all would be well. No reason to end up in his embrace on the sofa again. No reason whatsoever.

  She was entering the house for the plates and silver when Travis entered the front door with a stack of mail.

  “Thought we’d eat outside,” she said.

  He grabbed the bottle of ketchup and the salad and followed her out the patio door.

  After he said grace, Shay served herself and handed him the tongs. “Everything all right at your parents’ place?”

  “Running smooth. Jacob’s got it under control.”

  Her cell rang, and she pulled it from her pocket
and checked the ID.

  “Hey, hon. You have a good day?”

  “Yeah. We worked in the garden awhile, then Abigail let us cook supper. I learned how to make chicken and dumplings from scratch.”

  “Sounds fun.”

  “Can I spend the night, Mom? Abigail said it’s okay.”

  She looked at Travis and found his eyes on her. She envisioned the quiet house. The empty house. The feel of his arms around her, his mouth on hers.

  “No.” Her answer was abrupt. “I mean, another time, okay, munchkin?”

  “Awwww . . . ,” Olivia said, and she heard Maddy in the background. “Please, please, please?”

  Travis lifted a brow, and the corner of his lip kicked up.

  She looked away. “Another time.” Like three months from now.

  “All right,” her daughter said, heavy on the pout.

  “You finished with supper?”

  “Yeah.” She heard Abigail’s muffled voice in the background. “Abigail said to tell you she was just trying to lend God an extra hand. Whatever that means.”

  “Tell Abigail—” She looked at Travis, chewing, still looking smug. “Never mind.”

  “Abigail said she’d run me home in a few minutes.”

  “Perfect. See you.”

  She turned off the phone and stuffed it into her pocket. She could feel Travis’s eyes on her.

  “Wanted to spend the night?” Travis asked.

  “Mm-hmm.”

  “Why’d you say no?”

  She didn’t answer. She could already hear everything she needed to hear from the tone of his voice. She dipped her bite of meat loaf in ketchup and ate it.

  “Chicken?”

  She met his eyes boldly. “Really, McCoy?”

  His eyes danced, silver sparks igniting in the evening light. A hint of a smirk tugged at his lips. His jaw bore the stubble of a long day. She could feel the graze of it against her palm, against her cheek. Feel the contrasting softness of his lips on hers.

  The boldness oozed from her body, down the bench, and puddled beneath the table. She swallowed a lump of corn.

  “Is it me you don’t trust?” he asked. “Or yourself?”

  She pulled her eyes away from his, cleared her throat. “I wanted to tell Olivia about the braces, that’s all.” She took another bite of cold corn, fixed her eyes on a crack in the table that ran all the way to the end.