A Nice Day for a Cowboy Wedding

by Nicole Helm

  Cora whipped her head up. “He set Lou’s fire?”

  “He had a role in the setting of it.” Shane searched Cora’s face for something, and she hoped to God he didn’t find it. Sometimes she was afraid she had abuse survivor written across her forehead. She couldn’t stand to be that to him.

  He rubbed his thumb back and forth across her jaw. “You okay?”

  She studied the cut on his lip, the slight puffiness to it. Found a truth she could give him. “I don’t like seeing you hurt.”

  The unhurt side of his mouth curved. “I don’t mind that.” His thumb kept brushing her jaw, his other fingers lightly resting on her neck, occasionally pulling a strand of hair between two fingers.

  She wanted those fingers everywhere, because it would blot out all this other stuff. She knew it would. She didn’t want other stuff, old hurts and fears, ugly reminders. She just wanted him, and that feeling he offered when he touched her. The flutter in her chest, the rapid beating of her heart, the low, tugging ache in the pit of her stomach.

  “If you want to change your mind about going out with me—”

  “No.” The word was out of her before she even had time to think about it, but it was true. “No,” she repeated. “It’s just complicated.”

  “How? Explain it to me.”

  She couldn’t. She just . . . couldn’t. So, she changed the subject to something she could. “Micah’s going on an overnight camping trip on Thursday.”

  * * *

  Shane didn’t move. Instead, he kept himself still, his thumb resting on her jaw, his fingers barely touching her neck. He wanted to smooth his fingertips everywhere. Slowly, to learn every last soft spot and curve. Every dip and swell.

  Still he kept himself motionless. Until he was sure he could speak without sounding strangled. “No curfew, then?” he said carefully.

  “None.”

  He nodded, once, then slowly drew the tip of his thumb down the line of her chin. “Thursday, huh?”

  Her mouth curved, some of that haunted uncertainty going out of her dark blue eyes. Her dimple appeared, and he touched it with his index finger.

  “So, I’m all yours,” she said, her smile deepening.

  His whole body tightened at that, head to toe, groin most especially. He was a careful man, always had been. It was somehow in his makeup and reinforced by everything that had happened in his life. He didn’t take sex lightly, no matter how often his brothers told him he should.

  He took it even less lightly with Cora, who felt like some kind of miracle. The kind he didn’t want to break.

  “Are you going to kiss me, or do I have to be the initiator again?” She grinned up at him.

  “Hey, I’m trying to be gentlemanly, like my mama always taught me to be,” he faux-drawled.

  She laughed, leaning close. “Be a little less gentlemanly,” she returned, her lips close to his.

  “I’ll work on it,” he managed, before taking her mouth with his. He didn’t let himself go completely, though he was tempted, both in general and by her words. But there was a time and place, and his mother’s porch with any number of passersby wasn’t it.

  Her mouth was soft and sweet, with a sharp hint of cleverness, as if she knew everything she did to him no matter how hard he tried to keep it reined in. She leaned into him, her hands cupping his face, her fingers brushing against the short bristles of his hair. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her tight and close, so he could feel her breasts pressed up to his chest, so she could likely feel what she was doing to him.

  She sighed against his mouth, and distantly he knew it throbbed where he’d been elbowed, but the pain was drowned out by the feel of her.

  “I like you an awful lot, Cora,” he murmured against her mouth.

  Blue eyes stared up at him, wide and serious, even as that slight curve to her now wet lips stayed. “I like you too, Shane,” she said, and it wasn’t any big admission. Of course they liked each other.

  But it felt big, mixed with that kiss, with his heart beating hard against his chest, against hers.

  It was only when that beat slowed that he heard someone approach. He glanced at the yard to see Micah standing there a few feet away from the stairs.

  “Boone said he can’t find the four-wheeler keys,” Micah said flatly.

  Cora jerked, seeming to only just realize Micah was there. She leaned away, plastered a fake smile on her face, and looked at her son.

  “You’re not getting on it, are you?” Cora asked, her voice sounding a little rough even to Shane.

  He shouldn’t be pleased by that.

  “No,” Micah returned, still that odd flatness to his voice and expression.

  Shane pulled the keys out of his pocket and tossed them to Micah, watching the kid’s expression carefully. But Micah had certainly learned how to put his displays of emotion on lockdown if he wanted to.

  The boy caught the keys, then, with one last inscrutable look, turned and walked back to the stables. Shane noted he didn’t jog, bound, or run. He trudged.

  “He’s not happy,” Shane offered to Cora.

  Cora frowned. “How do you know that?”

  “My mom didn’t really date when I was a kid, but this whole Ben thing? Beyond the very real concerns I have, there’s also that weird . . . You don’t want your mom with someone. You just don’t. And any time that person is nice to you, you think it has to do with what that person is trying to do with your mom.”

  Cora took a deep breath. “I guess . . . that makes sense. I mean I’ve dated, but casually. I’ve kept him out of it.”

  “You’ve apparently kept him out of this, too.”

  Cora looked up at Shane, her eyebrows drawing together. “You try talking to your twelve-year-old about dating and see how you like it.”

  Shane chuckled, rubbing his hand down her now straightened spine. “I’m sorry that came out disapproving. I don’t disapprove of your not telling him. That’s certainly your decision to make.”

  “I just haven’t found the right words,” Cora returned, looking at where Micah had gone, chewing on her lip.

  “He wants you to hook up with Boone.”

  Cora jerked her gaze back to Shane. “He does not.”

  “Boone is fun and exciting, and I am a boring stick-in-the-mud who makes him follow the rules.”

  “That isn’t true.”

  It was nice of her to say so, but Shane understood too much of this. He’d been the fatherless kid. He’d helped raise four other fatherless kids. “It is true, both that he thinks that and that I’m a boring stick-in-the-mud. I’m okay with that, but you should be, too.”

  “Okay with your stick-in-the-mud-ness?”

  Maybe. “Okay with the fact that he likes someone better than me. That he might wish you were with someone else.” Shane hoped that all came out like he didn’t care, or like he was above it all. Above the need to make that kid worship him. But that would only backfire, so he did have to find a way to be okay with it.

  “I care what Micah thinks . . . to an extent. His liking Boone better doesn’t suddenly make me want Boone more than I want you. I’m not attracted to Boone.”

  Shane raised an eyebrow. Girls had thrown themselves at Boone since way before Shane had thought Boone should be catching them.

  “I’m not saying your brothers aren’t cute,” Cora conceded.

  “Oh, now it’s both my brothers.”

  She laughed, nudging him with her elbow. “Now you’re just giving me a hard time.”

  “Yeah,” he admitted, pulling her close again. “And I’m about to be very ungentlemanly.”

  “Oh, good,” she said, grinning up at him.

  Steps thumped on the stairs, and Molly spoke, overloud. “Well, hello.”

  “Go away,” Shane returned, pulling his hat down to cover his and Cora’s faces so he could kiss her again, but Cora pushed him away.

  “Stop,” Cora chided with a grin. She got off the porch swing, much to his disappointment
. “I’m going over to Lou’s with your sister.”

  “And it looks like we have a ton to talk about,” Molly said with an evil sister gleam in her eye.

  “Be nice,” Shane warned.

  “Oh, I’ll be nice to Cora. We’ll see if I be nice to you once I get all the dirt.” Molly linked arms with Cora. “All the dirt,” she repeated, pulling Cora inside.

  Cora waved with a grin and disappeared with his sister.

  Shane gave himself a minute . . . or ten, to think about anything other than the current erection he was sporting. Because the task that lay ahead was going to be just about as unpleasant.

  He had to face the kid, and he had the sinking suspicion it wouldn’t be easy at all.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Despite the ups and downs of the morning, Cora was excited to be heading over to the flower farm. She wanted to explore it a little more, both from a personal interest standpoint and from a Mile High Weddings standpoint.

  She smiled to herself, because she was starting to sound like her sister, and a couple years ago she never would have believed that was possible.

  Molly drove her truck across fields and back toward the north edge of Tyler property, where Cora had never been before. The summer green was getting a little brown, but the sky was a beautiful blue, and the mountains acted like honorable sentries in the distance. The cows dotted pasture ground, the occasional ranch hand in a four-wheeler or on horseback waving as Molly drove.

  “Mom doesn’t like it when I cut through the back, but it cuts off about twenty minutes. And she won’t be home till this afternoon, so I figure I’ll have till dinner before she scolds me about it.”

  “Did you grow up with Lou and Emily?”

  “Oh, sure. Lindsay’s so much younger than me. Lou and Em were my only hope for female companionship my own age for a while there. Plus, small towns. You didn’t grow up here.”

  “No, Denver.”

  Molly wrinkled her nose. “I tried to live there for a few years with my ex. Worst years of my life, and not just because he was a dickbag.”

  Cora laughed. “Yeah, I relate.”

  “Micah’s dad?”

  Cora tensed and tried to find a way to play it off. Play it down. “Yeah, he’s not . . . the greatest.” Ha ha, understatement of the year.

  “But he’s still around?” Molly asked conversationally, concentrating on the path.

  “Alive, but not around.” Cora squinted out the window, trying to get a handle on her whirling emotions. Stephen seemed to keep coming up, a bad penny as always. She didn’t want to talk about him. Couldn’t, even if Molly had a shitty ex, too. “I don’t like to talk about him.”

  “Got it. Well, just a head’s up, we’re not just helping Lou with work. This is a little cheer up mission over similarly shitty exes. I guess you saw the shiner my idiot brother got.”

  “Shane said he got in a fight.”

  Molly rolled her eyes, waving at a ranch hand who opened a gate for her and closed it behind them. “Gavin and his hair-trigger temper, I swear. Most easygoing guy alive unless he thinks you wronged him, then boom.”

  “But this wasn’t about him.”

  “No,” Molly agreed as the truck rumbled along. Cora saw rows of colorful blooms, so she knew they must be on Lou’s property now. “But I’m not gossiping until I hear what’s going on with you and my brother.”

  “Oh. Well. We’re, uh, going to go out on a date.”

  “Hmm. And there’s already been kissing. PDA is gross and mean by the way. It’s like rubbing it in to the PDA-less.”

  “Sorry,” Cora offered, though she knew Molly was just teasing her. Cora glanced at the brunette. Her profile reminded Cora a lot of Deb. “I like him.”

  “Aw,” Molly offered without a hint of cynicism or sarcasm. “Our Shane . . . He’s such a good guy. I think you’re perfect for him.”

  Cora scoffed. “Hardly perfect.”

  “You’re outgoing and determined and funny. You tease him, and he lights up. He needs a little light now and again. And, I can’t pretend to know what having a kid is like, but Shane’s good with them, so it’s not like that’s a problem.” Molly glanced over at Cora briefly, her expression one of mock horror. “Oh my God, I sound like my mother meddling.”

  Cora laughed. “I hate to point it out, but coming over to cheer up your friend under the guise of helping her work also sounds like your mother.”

  “Shit.”

  “I guess it’s a good thing your mom’s awesome.”

  Molly smiled. “It is a very good thing.” Then she grimaced. “Hopefully our taste in men isn’t the same.”

  “I don’t think it’s catching. My sister married a great guy after my mother and I displayed nothing but horrible, horrible, awful taste.”

  “So Lindsay has a prayer?”

  “I think so. If Shane lets anyone near her ever.”

  Molly laughed hard at that as they pulled up to Lou’s barn. “Lindsay’s sneakier than all that.”

  Before they’d even gotten out of the truck, Lou appeared from the barn. A ways away there was a house. Nothing as big or as extravagant as the Tylers. In fact, it looked rather worn down, but loved and well-lived in. That must be where Lou lived, and maybe the grandmother Lou had referenced the last time Cora had been here.

  “What are you guys doing here?” Lou asked suspiciously, the bandana haphazardly tied over the side of her face as it had been last time. “Didn’t forget a wedding thing, did I?”

  “You know you didn’t,” Molly called cheerfully, tramping over to where Lou stood. “You remember everything. I was just feeling antsy over there with all that testosterone, and Cora has the day off her wedding stuff, so we wanted to come play with the flowers and feel like girls for a bit.”

  “Cutting snapdragons today for market.” Lou frowned at them. “I don’t need help.”

  “But you could use it,” Molly said cheerfully. “Besides, you should talk to Cora about supplying for more weddings than just Mom’s. That’d be another stream of revenue. And you know people doing these outdoorsy weddings want local shit.”

  “You’re a real eloquent businesswoman, Mol,” Lou said grumpily, but there was a slight curve to her mouth. “And I know why you bitches are here.” She flicked a glance at Cora. “You can be exempt from being a bitch. I don’t know you well enough yet.”

  “It’s okay. I can be a bitch.”

  Lou’s mouth curved a hint again. “So, you know all about my sad sack of a situation. I can tell by that slightly sympathetic, slightly terrified look on your face. The question is, who told you? Shane or Molly. Which version you heard depends on which mouth blabbed. Molly exaggerates everything, and Shane makes everything about his idiotic brother.”

  “Oh. Well.”

  “Mostly me,” Molly offered. “And not everything. Just what you already heard from the busybody police of Gracely. So, what are we working on?”

  Lou let out a hefty sigh and motioned them to follow her. They tramped around the barn and to a big, white tunnel thing. Lou opened a door, and inside there were rows and rows of tall, gigantic snapdragons, the like of which Cora had never seen before.

  “Wow,” Cora breathed. “This is amazing.”

  “Isn’t it? Lou’s got the greenest thumb in Colorado, I’m just about sure,” Molly said proudly.

  Lou grunted. “I’m doing some cuttings for the farmer’s market. I’ll show you two how to do it once. If you fuck it up after that, you’re gone.”

  “She’s just the friendliest,” Molly said, slinging her arm around Lou’s shoulders.

  Lou flinched and hissed out a breath.

  Molly withdrew her arm. “Sorry.”

  “Don’t be,” Lou said jerkily, though clearly the casual touch had hurt her. Cora’s heart twisted. Even though she didn’t know quite what Lou had been through, she knew what it was like to be physically hurt and not know how to truly deal with it, not know how to accept help or love.

  “I
don’t know why Gavin has to get in my business,” Lou said, stomping back toward a table filled with tools. “And Rex isn’t even my business anymore. Fighting with him was stupid.”

  “Oh, please, you two have been all up in each other’s business since you met in grade school,” Molly said, following her. “And of course it was stupid. It was men. But, he was just trying to protect you. That’s how they all are.”

  “Well, I don’t need protecting. I’m no one’s victim,” Lou said resolutely, pointing a pair of clippers at Molly. “Especially a Tyler. No offense.”

  Cora ducked her head in the blooms and tried to ignore the flutter of uncertainty. There was nothing to be uncertain about. The Tylers were protectors, and if Shane ever knew what she’d been through, he’d treat her like a victim.

  She just couldn’t let that happen.

  * * *

  Shane watched Micah all morning and afternoon, even when he was supposed to be overseeing branding but had sent Gavin to handle it instead. The kid acted normal, if decidedly less chatty, and yet Shane felt as though something was off.

  Wrong.

  He couldn’t put his finger on it, though he could only assume it had to do with Micah’s seeing Shane kiss Cora this morning. What else could it be? Yesterday the kid had talked a mile a minute, and, yes, Boone wasn’t here to regale Micah with tales of the rodeo, having mentioned something vague about some kind of appointment in Benson, but Micah wasn’t usually silent with Shane.

  Shane didn’t think.

  He knew kids were hard, and yet this was some whole new weird level. His siblings he could yell at. Control and maneuver—always in the name of protection, but he could do it confident in the fact that he was their brother and he had the right.

  He couldn’t do those things with someone else’s kid, no matter how much he liked said someone else or her kid.

  “Molly’s here. You can clean up and get ready for your lesson.”

  Micah didn’t bound into action. Didn’t smile or respond. He just slowly began to clean up the buckets he’d been using to wash down a few horses the hands had brought by, done for the day.