His Holiday Bride

by Jillian Hart

  “Yes, Dad.” They all chimed together, even Rori. Just like sisters.

  It all happened in a blur. Rori hugged her grandmother and grandfather before Justin took her away in his arms. The happy couple stood on the church’s front step as generations of their family and the town’s families had done before. Rori closed her eyes and tossed the beautiful rose bouquet. It sailed through the air and directly into Autumn’s hands.

  Mortification. She stared at the bundle of flowers and ribbons and endured the applause and the laughter. Before she knew it, Rori and Justin were climbing into a hired town car and motoring away. Goodbyes and well wishes rang in the air, refusing to be dimmed by the steadily falling snow.

  Please watch over them, Father. The prayer came easily, her most desired wish. Let them find the happily-ever-after they deserve. She resisted the urge to pray for one of her own. Some things in life would not come true no matter how much you wanted them.

  “Nice catch.” Ford moseyed up to her like a courting man.

  A ribbon of awareness wrapped around her. She didn’t want it to. She didn’t want to remember the security of being held against his chest, either, but she did. She turned away, planted her high-heeled shoes carefully in the snow and ignored the cold, wet seep between her toes. “I think Rori did it on purpose.”

  “I know she did. I saw her do it.” He tapped his forefinger to his temple. “Not much gets past me. I’m sharper than I look.”

  “Well, what about those rustlers you couldn’t catch?”

  “Doesn’t mean I won’t. I’ll hang in there. I’ll get the job done.” Invincible. That would be one way to describe him. Incredibly likable was another.

  “Howdy there, Sheriff.” Mr. Baker passed them on the snowy lawn, his cowboy boots crunching in the accumulation. “Good to see you’ve found one of the best gals in town. You move fast.”

  What? Her knees turned to jelly. Why would Mr. Baker say such an outrageous thing? And he winked, as if he didn’t see a thing wrong with it.

  “I’ve got good detective skills,” Ford quipped in answer to Chip. Amused when he should have been horrified. “I didn’t waste any time.”

  “I should say not.” Chip chuckled as he marched along the walkway ahead of them. “Keep up the good work.”

  “Honestly. It was a dance.” She blushed so furiously her face was hot enough to melt all the snow in the parking lot.

  “To be honest, it was four separate songs.” Ford stubbornly kept at her side.

  Four? She had heard only two. It just went to show the man affected her. He short-circuited her common sense and scrambled her neurons until she couldn’t even count. A smart woman would put as much distance as she could from the man, but she didn’t want to. How smart did that make her?

  Not very.

  “Hi, Autumn!” Her friend Merritt popped up from behind her Ford pickup. She waved her ice scraper in greeting. “Oh, hi, Sheriff. I should have known.”

  “Known what?” Ford asked.

  “Don’t ask.” Autumn shook her head at Merritt, hoping her friend wouldn’t say anything more. Really. Merritt had nearly spilled the beans. Nothing was sacred in a small town. A person’s painful past ought to be kept secret. She pulled her keys out of her coat pocket. Her beige truck was mantled with fresh snow.

  “I’m curious now.” He waited until she’d beeped open the locks before opening her truck door for her. Dappled by crystal snowflakes and framed by the soft gray daylight, he could have been a Western legend come to life in a stunning black suit and tie. Unaware of his impact, he curved one hand on the top of the door, emphasizing his masculine presence. “What haven’t you told me?”

  “Nothing. Besides, if you wait long enough someone is bound to spill it for you.” She knocked the snow from her heels on the door frame. “Just wait.”

  “Maybe I don’t want to.” He gripped her elbow with his free hand, helping her up and onto the seat. “I’m a good investigator. I can ferret out the truth. I want to hear it from you. I want you to trust me enough with your story.”

  “Trust.” Wasn’t that the key word? She hadn’t trusted a man since Denny Jones had crushed her. She’d gotten hurt, her defensive walls went up and they stayed solidly in place ever since. Only one man had ever been a threat to them, and he was standing in front of her, his granite jaw set with determination and his compelling gaze poignant with caring.

  “Autumn, dear.” Arlene Miller circled around the front of her neighboring SUV with an ice scraper in hand. “Trusting a man is always risky. Especially an outsider. Remember what happened last time. I would make him prove himself first.”

  “Prove myself?” Ford’s brow furrowed. Why did she find his every little gesture and every expression on his stunningly handsome face more and more fascinating?

  “What happened last time?” he asked.

  “Don’t think you’re the first charming sheriff to come to our town,” Arlene added, happy to help. “I—”

  “Thanks, Mrs. Miller,” Autumn interrupted. The parking lot might be starting to empty, but plenty of folks were out clearing their windshields within listening range. Fantastic. Across the row Merritt turned around and offered a thumbs-up of encouragement. Even better.

  “Get in.” She gestured to the empty passenger seat. Ford flashed her a to-die-for grin, closed her door and powered around the front of her truck. It was the only way. She loved this town, but she didn’t want to be afternoon entertainment.

  Cold air rushed in with him as he plopped athletically on the seat beside her. The door whooshed shut and they were alone together, just her and the arresting sight of the man.

  Maybe it would go easier if she didn’t look directly at him. She could do this. She could dig up her painful mistakes and manage to frame them into words that didn’t reveal how much she’d been devastated. It was going to hurt, but she was a fearless girl. She was tough. She knew how to take a hit and keep going.

  There was a dull knock against one of the windows. She could see a shadowed blur on Ford’s side of the truck.

  “What in the world?” he asked as he hit the power button, but nothing happened because the engine wasn’t on.

  She turned the key one click and the window powered down to reveal a stranger with Ford’s piercing eyes and a lopsided grin. “Are you going to be long?” he asked.

  “I don’t know.” Ford shook his head, scattering shocks of dark hair. “Autumn, meet my brother Shay.”

  “Hi, there, pretty lady.” Shay wasted no time amping up his charisma. What was it about the Sherman men that they had extra male magnetism? “Sorry to interrupt. I can see my big brother’s busy, but if this is going to take a while, I need the keys to the Jeep. I could freeze in this weather.”

  “California winters aren’t like this,” Ford explained as he dug into his pocket and handed over the keys. “Don’t mess with my radio.”

  “Dude, I can’t wait without tunes. Nice to meet you, Autumn. Go easy on my bro. He’s had a hard time with the ladies. A long string of rejections. It’s sad. See ya.”

  “Is that right?” Intrigued, she tried to imagine it. Ford was handsome, polite and a hard worker. In a lot of ways he reminded her of the men in her family. “What’s wrong with you that you’re continuously rejected?”

  “Not continuously.” Ford powered up the window. “Aren’t we talking about you?”

  “If you don’t mind, I’d rather divert the focus off me and onto you.”

  “I mind.” That made him laugh. “We can leave my sad situation for later. What were you going to tell me?”

  A series of knocks sounded against her side window. Through the snow-speckled glass she recognized her sisters. Really, couldn’t a girl get any privacy? She hit the button and the window zipped down, letting in frigid air.

  “Hi, Sheriff.” Cheyenne greeted him without a hint of surprise.

  “We just wanted to say goodbye,” Addy added. “We’re ready to go. Tucker’s frothing at the bit to g
et on the road.”

  “Take care, Autumn.” Cheyenne reached over the lip of the window glass, bracelet charm dangling.

  Autumn hugged her back. “You both have safe flights. Do well on your finals.”

  “I’ll do my best,” Cheyenne promised, stepping back to make room for Addy’s hug.

  “And you, little sister, had best behave.” Sweet to wrap an arm around the baby of the family.

  “Me? I’m always good. It’s you we’re worried about.” Addy winked as she hopped back and hiked her bag higher onto her shoulder. “You alone in there with our handsome sheriff.”

  “Addison, you can be quiet now.” Her face heated. While her sisters dashed away giggling, she sat still, mortified. Especially when Arlene Miller looked up from the last of her ice scraping and winked.

  Honestly. She wished the snow hadn’t been knocked off the window. The glass was slightly tinted but not dark enough to hide behind, at least not with Mrs. Miller’s sharp eyes.

  “You have to pardon my sisters. They live to torture me.”

  “My brother is the same way. You didn’t see the thumbs-up he gave me when he walked away.”

  “I don’t see why they are leaping to conclusions.” If only she could stop blushing. “We’re just talking, that’s all.”

  “Exactly. It’s about time we had a serious talk.”

  “Right. I can’t help feeling that everyone in the parking lot knows we’re in here.” Hidden behind a windshield full of snow. Fogging up the windows from simply breathing. On the other hand, maybe she should turn on the engine. Her teeth started to chatter, and fog-free windows would cut down on local speculation. Let everyone clearly see they were not sharing a kiss.

  She blushed harder and turned the key. The engine roared to life, and cold air hurled out of the dashboard vents. Music blared from the speakers. She silenced it and fiddled with the defroster controls to give her mind somewhere else to focus. Kissing Ford. Now where had that thought come from? She didn’t like the man. She did not want to kiss him.

  Fine, maybe she did. But only a little teeny-tiny bit.

  “So, I’m not the first sheriff to charm you?” He leaped into the subject she would rather put off. His easygoing manner had been deceptive, she could see that now. His gaze sharpened and turned piercing.

  Easy to see he had been a good vice cop. It occurred to her he was much more of a man than met the eye. That could be good or very, very bad. As it had been with Denny.

  Lord, what have I gotten myself into?

  “What was his name?” Ford didn’t look as if he would relent. And she didn’t aim to make him. She wanted to tell him the truth. He had the right to know why there was no chance they were going to get involved. That way he could redirect his efforts and find someone else.

  “Dennis Jones.” She twisted toward him, ignored the creak of the leather seats and unzipped her coat. “He was a homicide cop from Philadelphia. He’d put in eight years on the force and was burned out. Ready for a change, and he thought this sleepy little town might be it. Sound familiar?”

  “Let me guess. The first time he set sight on you he fell hard.” Ford winced.

  “That’s what he said.” Even that small piece hurt to remember. “I was nineteen. I didn’t have a lot of experience dating, and Denny was handsome and charming. I liked him.”

  “And you two started dating?”

  “Right away. I was naive enough to be flattered by his interest. Our first date was at the diner. Afterward we walked to the drive-in, grabbed ice cream for dessert and meandered down to the river.” She fingered the flowers adorning her hair and tugged out a hairpin. “He was romantic and sweet and gentlemanly. A girl’s dream come true.”

  “So, he didn’t just break your heart.” He’d broken her dreams, too.

  “Not at first. It took time.” She was going a good job of hiding her emotions. She could have been speaking of the weather. But he’d learned to read the smaller signs, the little things that got past most people. She was leaning away from him, as if to create distance. Fiddling with the flowers she’d taken from her topknot instead of facing the truth. “The worst part was that he was sincere, at least at first.”

  “But?” he prompted, fearing he already knew what was coming next.

  “As time went by, he figured out that you can’t run from your past. Your issues come right along with you wherever you go. He hid a deeper layer of his personality that was troubled. I didn’t see it in time.” She pulled another pin out of her hair, and light red locks spilled over her shoulders. “He said he’d tried, but he couldn’t love me. He said no man could.”

  “Why is that?”

  “Because what kind of woman would rather ride a horse all day than to cook for her family?” She didn’t look at him as she tucked the hairpins into the center console. “After he saw me at target practice and realized I was a better shot than him, he decided my place should be in the house helping my Aunt Opal in the kitchen and with the housework. There’s nothing wrong with that. I wish I was wired that way, but I’m not.”

  “Anyone who’s met you can sum that up in about two seconds flat.” He sure didn’t think much of this guy, but he’d seen the type. Maybe a tad controlling and secretly self-interested. He’d worked with men like that. He’d arrested men like that. No wonder she wanted nothing to do with him.

  “Don’t think my mom didn’t try to keep me indoors. I remember the day I was tall enough to stand on my tiptoes and wrap both hands around the doorknob. Mom was busy in the kitchen, so she didn’t hear me let myself out onto the porch.” The shields fell away and emotion lit her up—love for the memory she relived. “I was free. I can still recall that feeling of glee and triumph.”

  That wasn’t hard to picture at all. No doubt she’d been an adorable toddler with big eyes, reddish curls and sweetness.

  “I was going to find my daddy. My little feet carried me down the steps, across the yard and up the lane. Dad was out with Granddad fixing fences, and he must have spotted me. The grasses were tall, the birds were singing. I couldn’t see where I was going. I had a fistful of buttercups I’d picked, and suddenly Dad appeared out of nowhere, the giant that he is. He scooped me from the wild grasses and into his arms. I can still hear him say, ‘Where do you think you’re going, little girl?’”

  She glanced at him through her long lashes, wholesomely honest. “About that time the cows spotted me, too, and Dad held me up so I could pet them. We were surrounded by cattle crowding to get closer. Their tongues kept licking me alongside my head and my outstretched fingers. They ate my buttercups and nibbled on my shoelaces. I laughed and laughed.”

  Easy to imagine, too.

  “That was the happiest I’d ever been so far in my life, cradled in my dad’s arms and surrounded by God’s creatures with the summer breeze on my face.” She shrugged self-consciously as if she’d revealed too much. “It’s still my favorite way to spend a day. Out in the fields riding Aggie at Dad’s side. If that makes me unlovable, then I don’t know what to say.”

  “Not unlovable. Amazing.” Glistening snow melted in her hair like a tiara, and he reached out to briefly touch that snow and her hair. She sure didn’t look real, but she was, and so was this moment. A pivotal one he had to get right. “Not every man is man enough to appreciate an incredible woman such as you.”

  “You can turn on the charm in any circumstance, can’t you?”

  “It’s a gift.” She could tease, he could tease. “What’s the real reason you danced with me?”

  “It’s silly.”

  “If it is, I won’t tell anyone.”

  That earned him a hint of a smile. “Like I said, pity.”

  “Are you sure you want to fib to an officer of the law?”

  “It’s not a fib. I do feel sorry for you.” Trouble began to twinkle in her eyes. He had a feeling Autumn Granger was a truckload of trouble when she wanted to be—trouble of the best kind. “I wanted to know what it would be like to
be in your arms. To be held by you.”

  Wow. Not the answer he expected, but one that put joy into his very breath. “And? Did you come to a verdict?”

  “It was all right.” A smile teased at her mouth.

  “Just all right? Because it was pretty nice for me.”

  “Fine. For me, too.” She admitted the truth as if reluctantly, but the defenses were creeping all the way down to reveal the real Autumn Granger. The vulnerability behind the tough and breezy cowgirl who carried a .45 and knew how to use it maybe better than he. She lassoed his heart like the country girl she was, a hold that he knew by instinct and faith nothing was going to break.

  He cupped the side of her face with one hand. She didn’t move away from his touch. His pulse skidded nervously. Would she let him kiss her? He inched closer and she didn’t pull away.

  A rapid knock shattered the moment. Autumn jumped. He rocked back guiltily into the leather seat as she rubbed her sleeve on the foggy window. A big man glowered in at them from the other side of the door. The smear on the glass might have made it seem ominous, because when the window lowered Frank Granger was grinning ear to ear. “What are you two up to in there?”

  “We’re talking, Dad. Really.” She gave a little huff. “I’m setting the new sheriff straight on a few things, so do you mind?”

  “Didn’t mean to interrupt. Just wanted to make sure you weren’t having truck trouble. Ford, we’re driving cattle to the Kents’ place tomorrow. We could use extra cowhands if you and that brother of yours would like to ride with us.”

  “Dad, I’m sure Ford has better things—”

  “I’ll be there.” As if he was going to miss the opportunity. He had a love of Western lore, but Autumn was the reason he said it. She was the reason Frank had offered.

  “Great.” Frank backed away. “I’ll see you at home, little girl.”

  Ford knew exactly why all the guys in this town, including Denny Jones, had felt inadequate. Not just any man could stand comparison to Frank Granger or understand Autumn’s feelings for her father. They were best friends, he saw that now. A lifetime of affection that might intimidate other men, but it inspired him. He felt the same way about his dad. There was nothing more important than family. Nothing greater than love.