The Cowboy Takes a Bride

by Lori Wilde

  Nothing went missing. No one was late. The crowd was jovial. The weather was perfect. The bride glowed in her Western-cut bridal gown and cowgirl boots. The groom showed off in his Texas tuxedo (tuxedo jacket with tails and new black jeans with razor sharp creases down the legs). Pastor Penney performed a traditional ceremony.

  The decorations were understated but stylish. The bride’s and groom’s cakes, made by Lissette Moncrief, were intricately beautiful. Prissy’s colorful wildflower bouquet carried out the inexpensive but tasteful cowboy theme. The Mesquite Spit catered the barbecue meal.

  After the ceremony was over and the reception was in full swing, and everyone was dancing to “Cotton-Eyed Joe,” a well-dressed older woman came up to Mariah. Mariah knew the woman had money. She’d learned to spot wealth a long time ago.

  “Hello, I’m Grace Bettingfield, Paul’s aunt from Chicago. I understand you’re from Chicago as well.”

  “Yes,” Mariah said, and shook her hand. “I’m pleased to meet you.”

  “Well, I simply have to tell you that I never imagined it was possible.”

  “What’s that?”

  “An elegant cowboy wedding. When my sister told me that the reception was being held in a horse barn . . .” She paused. “Well, you can imagine my dismay. I thought, Shades of Green Acres. What is my nephew marrying into?”

  “There is a bit of a culture difference from Chicago to Jubilee,” Mariah admitted.

  “But this . . .” The woman swept a hand at the reception hall. “It’s beautiful. Even if they do insist on playing that music.”

  “They’re having fun,” Mariah pointed out. “Cotton-Eyed Joe” was as obligatory at a cowboy wedding reception as “Y.M.C.A.” was to an L.A. bash. “Wait until they do the hokey-pokey.”

  The aunt groaned good-naturedly. “Thank you for making this experience memorable in a good way.”

  “It was my pleasure.”

  “Where did you learn to put on such a well-oiled affair?”

  “I used to work for Elegant Weddings in downtown Chicago.”

  “You worked for Destiny Simon?” Grace Bettingfield sounded awed.

  “I did. Do you know her?”

  “I am acquainted with Destiny, and I must say she’s been having some business trouble lately. Now I wonder if it’s because her right-hand woman was wooed to Texas.”

  “I never said I was her right-hand woman.”

  “You didn’t have to.” Grace winked. “It’s obvious. Do you have a card?”

  Mariah pulled one of the cards she’d had printed up from her pocket and passed it to Grace. It would have been human nature to gloat at the news that things weren’t all peaches and sunshine for Destiny, but instead, Mariah found herself feeling sorry for her old boss. She was just happy that everything had turned out well for Prissy and Paul.

  Grace Bettingfield wasn’t the only one to pay compliments on the wedding. By the end of the night, more than a dozen people had asked for her business card. Satisfaction over a job well done settled in her stomach along with the Texas-grown sparkling wine that had turned out to be as tasty as champagne—and a whole lot cheaper. She didn’t for one second regret following her own dream instead of Dutch’s and turning the place into a wedding venue instead of an equine facility.

  Ah, Joe. Just thinking of him made her smile.

  When had Joe become such a bright spot in her life? Every time he walked into a room, her gaze went straight to him. When he smiled at her, Mariah’s heart skipped. Whenever she was alone in bed, she’d reach across to the cool, empty spot beside her and imagine him in it.

  Joe Daniels had slipped under her skin in a way she’d never thought possible. She’d tried not to fall in love with him because she knew he was still holding on to Becca. Knew also that they didn’t have much in common beyond chemistry.

  Joe.

  The bride and groom had ridden away on the groom’s cutting horse and most of the guests had already gone, but here was Joe, helping out. He grabbed hold of a big plastic trash bucket and was busy busing tables.

  She kicked off her high heels and padded over in bare feet. “You don’t have to do this.”

  “And leave the whole thing to you? No way.”

  “I’m a businesswoman, I can handle it.”

  Joe surveyed the mess. “It’ll take you until three in the morning by yourself.”

  “It’s my job, it’s what I get paid for.”

  “There’s that independent streak again. Do I have to give you another lecture on the virtues of accepting help? Just say, ‘Thank you, Joe.’ ”

  She smiled. “Thank you, Joe.”

  “You’re welcome, Little Bit.”

  She grabbed a plastic tub for the dishes and started loading them up. The barn door opened, and Ila and Cordy wandered in.

  “Are they back together?” she murmured to Joe.

  “Yep. Ila and I had a long talk. We got some things straightened between us. She decided to stop overlooking Cordy because he’s not as tall as she is, and Cordy’s so crazy for her he can forgive her anything.”

  “Hi guys,” she called out to them. “What’s up?”

  “We came to help,” Ila said.

  Now that surprised her.

  “Say, ‘Thank you, Ila,’ ” Joe whispered.

  Mariah grinned. “Thank you, Ila and Cordy. I do appreciate the help.”

  “See there,” Joe said. “You’re getting the hang of this. Before you know it, you’ll be one of the gang.”

  One of the gang. It had a nice ring to it, but she was still afraid to get too invested in that thought. She’d turned the place into a wedding chapel because she needed money, and planning weddings was the only skill she possessed. It wasn’t the way she’d imagined her life going, but she had to admit, she loved being in charge. Loved running her own wedding planning business rather than working for someone else. All those years she’d worked for Destiny Simon, never daring to dream that one day she could be just as successful if she found her own milieu.

  Was Jubilee her milieu?

  She looked around. She hadn’t wanted it to be her milieu. Not when she’d first arrived. She’d been resistant to the cowboy way of life. In her mind, the cowboy lifestyle had stolen her father from her. But there was something to be said for living close to land, for taking pride in the small things, for not showing off, for appreciating what you had.

  Ila and Cordy worked together like they’d been training for an Olympic event. They were so much in unison, a true team. Watching them together, anyone would think they’d been a couple for years.

  She wished she and Joe were more like that. More in sync instead of still feeling each other out.

  “They’re good together, huh?” Joe said, coming over to slide his arm around her shoulder.

  “They are.”

  “I’m happy for them. Ila’s the best and Cordy’s a great guy.”

  “Ila wasn’t too taken with me in the beginning.”

  “But she accepts you now, and that’s a big step in my book. Ila doesn’t let you into her inner circle unless she trusts you with her life.”

  “I’m not in her inner circle.”

  “She’s here, isn’t she? You gotta remember that people in small towns can get stuck in a rut. Sometimes we need an infusion of new blood to blow us out of our comfort zone.”

  “And here I thought everyone believed I was the Unabomber.”

  “A few people did.” He grinned. “Cooter Johnston, for instance. But then he’s a conspiracy theorist and paranoid to the bone. ’Course, getting hit by lightning three times might have something to do with it.”

  “He’s been hit by lightning three times?”

  “He golfs in the rain.”

  “I can see why he might be paranoid. Maybe someone is out to get him.”

  Joe laughed, and Mariah realized that, oddly enough, she was having fun.

  In less than an hour, Joe, Ila, Cordy, and Mariah had cleaned up the barn. It would have
taken her three times longer on her own. Maybe Joe was right. Maybe asking for help wasn’t such a bad thing. A warm, sentimental feeling crept up on her.

  “Night.” Cordy tipped his hat as he and Ila made for the exit.

  “Good night, Ila, Cordy. Thank you so much.”

  “You’d do the same for us,” Ila said.

  And that’s when Mariah realized it was absolutely true.

  Joe turned out the lights in the barn, took Mariah’s hand, and led her out into the silvery moonlight. “You’re done with the wedding planning for now.”

  “Yes,” she said, “but I received a handful of business cards. Hopefully, there are more weddings in my future.” She pulled other people’s business cards from her pocket, fanned them out in front of him.

  “Put those away for now. I want your complete attention.”

  “Yes, sir.” She stuffed the cards back into her pocket.

  He took both of her hands in his. “We’ve both been so busy we haven’t had a chance to talk since Thanksgiving.”

  Her heart fluttered. Finally. They were going to talk. Thank heavens she’d been so busy she’d had no time to dwell on his silence. He’d been just as busy. She knew how much the futurity meant to him so she hadn’t said anything either.

  “Tomorrow is Sunday, you don’t have to work at the Silver Horseshoe.”

  “No,” she agreed.

  “And I have a day off from the futurity.”

  “Oh?”

  “Imagine that,” he said, drawing her closer to him. “We both have a day off at the same time.”

  “Imagine that,” she echoed.

  “I was hoping, if you weren’t too tired from the wedding planning, that maybe we could pick up where we left off after the rainstorm.”

  “Oh, were you?”

  “Yes.” He smiled, dipped his head. “I was.”

  She tilted her face up to accept his kiss. “I think that’s an excellent idea.”

  Then she took him by the hand and led him to her cabin.

  Once inside the house, once inside the circle of Joe’s arms, Mariah grew nervous. She was afraid of losing this precious moment, of never getting it back again. She wanted so much to hope for happily-ever-after but she was afraid to believe in it.

  She couldn’t wait for him to kiss her. To do more than kiss her. The somnolent way he looked at her, the way his fingers moved up her arm felt so intimate. He dipped his head.

  The floorboards creaked under their feet.

  Mariah’s breath hung in her lungs.

  He brushed his lips over hers, soft as a sigh. His fingers played up the back of her neck, angling her head, raising her face up so he could extend the kiss.

  She was falling, deep into an endless sea of sensation.

  His dark eyes ensnared hers. She leaned into him. She’d been hungering for this—for him—for weeks.

  He kissed her for what could have been hours or minutes. The experience was that riveting. His mouth took her higher and hotter until nothing mattered but the two of them. All doubt evaporated. Nothing had ever felt so right, so perfect.

  Joe scooped her into his arms and she wrapped her hands around his neck, holding on tight. His grip was strong, his muscles bunched around her body. His warm breath feathered the fine hairs at her temple.

  He pressed his lips to her cheek. It felt nice. Sweet. Like a gentle wind on a hot summer day.

  Sexual desire hummed across her nerve endings, heating her body from top to bottom. He laid her gently on the bed, stepped back, and gazed down at her, his eyes shimmering in the moonlight slanting through the crack in the curtains.

  Mariah’s throat tightened at his expression. He looked at her as if she was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. She felt wanted, cherished. Tears pushed at the backs of her eyelids.

  “Make love to me, Joe,” she whispered.

  “Are you sure?” he asked. “Is this what you really want? Once we make love, there’s no going back.”

  “I’ve never been more certain of anything in my life.”

  “Me either.” He breathed.

  He sank down on the bed beside her, his hand reaching for the zipper at the side of her dress. Slowly, he tugged the zipper down. His knuckles rubbed against her skin bared by the parting teeth. He leaned over and, with lips hotter than a branding iron, kissed the fluttering pulse in the hollow of her throat.

  He stretched out beside her, all shirt and skin, man and heat, smelling of leather and spicy cologne and pure essence of Joe. He tasted of wedding cake and champagne. Promise. He tasted of promise.

  His mouth explored her neck, finding all kinds of spots to lick and nuzzle until he had her squirming, then he pulled back and lay on his side beside her, stacking his palms under his chin while he studied her in the darkness.

  She stared back. Mesmerized.

  “Wh-why did you stop?”

  “I want to take my time. Enjoy this. Enjoy you.”

  They spent the next several minutes undressing each other. Taking their time, never rushing. Once they were completely naked and he’d put on a condom, he trailed an incredibly light caress over her collarbone. “You are so perfect.”

  Mariah trembled.

  He kissed her breasts, the flat of her belly. Used his hand to excite her nipples, send her blood thrusting through her veins.

  “Joe . . .” She whispered his name on a sigh. He made her feel so good. No, good didn’t begin to describe it. Nor did any of the other superlatives that sprang to mind. It was beyond great, super, terrific, awesome . . .

  Okay, she had one. Splendid. Being with him felt splendid.

  His masculine scent surrounded her. His eyes darkened. His hand tightened around her wrist.

  Her body burned from her heart to her stomach straight down to her sex. Burned and ached and craved.

  His mouth claimed hers again.

  All her senses were altered—sound, sight, taste, smell, touch. She existed in an uncharted but delicious land. She was total awareness. Barbed strands of fevered sensation pricked her.

  He whispered her name, and his beautiful hands were busy making her feel alive in a hundred different ways. Frenzy fired every nerve ending.

  “What do you want? What can I do for you?” she asked.

  “You’re doing it.”

  “No, really. Do you like it when I touch you here?”

  He groaned. “Yeah. I like that.”

  “How about this?”

  “You don’t have to work so hard. I’m pretty easy to please.”

  “It’s just that . . . well . . . I want to do this right.”

  “Honey, you can’t go wrong when you put your hand there.”

  She laughed, but that didn’t stop the insecurity. It had been a very long time since she’d been with a man and she’d never been with one who made her feel like this. Part of her wanted to pull on her clothes and rush away until she could figure out what all this meant, if, indeed, it meant anything more than sex.

  It does and you know it.

  That’s what had her so nervous. This meant something. Did she really want to take the plunge? Yes, her body wanted him, but was she ready?

  Mariah touched the tip of her tongue to her upper lip and thought about where they were. In the cabin that had belonged to her father. With a new roof put on by the Jubilee Co-op. The small, cozy room felt like a cocoon. A cocoon where she didn’t really belong.

  “Hey.” Joe rubbed a palm up her arm to her shoulder. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing’s wrong.”

  “You’re tensing up.”

  She shrugged.

  “Talk to me.”

  “Nothing’s wrong, it’s just that . . .”

  He waited. When she didn’t continue, he whispered, “Let go.” His breath was a warm brush against her ear. “Let down your guard. Drop the mask. You don’t have to pretend with me. Be you, Mariah. One hundred percent.”

  That startled her. Both because he’d read her mind an
d because he was right. She was still trying to fit in. If you spent your life being a chameleon, how did you know what was really you and what was merely the milieu you’d adapted to?

  “What are you so afraid of?” He tickled her belly with his fingertips.

  “I’m afraid . . .”

  “Yes?”

  “That I’m simply trying to be what you want me to be.”

  “And what is that?”

  She waved her hand at the room around them. “A cowgirl. Dutch’s daughter.” Your late wife. “I’m afraid that if you knew the real me you wouldn’t want me anymore.”

  “You underestimate me and your own appeal. You let me see your naked body, now let me see your naked mind.”

  Mariah drew in a deep breath. “I’m scared.”

  Joe intertwined his fingers with hers. “I’ve got your back . . . and your front.” Then he grinned, pressed his lips to her belly, and blew a raspberry against her skin.

  Mariah giggled and Joe kissed her again. Then under his tender, thrusting strokes, her body eclipsed her brain, she forgot her anxiety, and simply let go.

  “I never expect . . . well, I knew you’d be . . . but wow . . . never this,” Mariah said after they made love a second time.

  “Never what?” Joe asked, lazily toying with her nipple.

  She shivered, curled against him. “I never expected you to be so incredible.”

  He chuckled.

  “What’s so funny?”

  “You. You’re so earnest.”

  “What’s wrong with that?”

  “Nothing’s wrong with that. It’s just you leave yourself open to a lot of hurt.”

  She pulled back, looked up into his face. “What do you mean by that?”

  “Some things aren’t meant to be taken seriously.”

  “Like Slinkys and Silly Putty.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Like unicorns and rainbows.”

  “Pretty much.”

  “As if this thing is going anywhere beyond a quick roll in the hay?”

  “I didn’t say that.” His voice deepened and his eyes darkened.

  “You didn’t have to. I know this is hard for you.”