The gossip column was a long one. It covered a lot more strange goings-on than what had happened between him and Jordyn. Others had behaved badly last night, and the mystery columnist hadn’t hesitated to lay it all out there in black-and-white, including the waitress who went swimming in the park fountain and ended up in jail for it, and also a poker game at the local watering hole, where one of the Crawford boys won somebody’s ranch.
The part about Will and Jordyn came last. Unlike those two awful ladies in Crawford’s, the column was not cruel. Looked at objectively, he supposed the story of his spur-of-the-moment marriage might even seem romantic. But the fact remained that he hated to have a spotlight shone on the night he could barely remember—and he knew that Jordyn would hate it, too. In the end, what were they but two moonstruck idiots who’d lost their heads and tied the knot?
Frankly, reading it pissed Will off. No, it wasn’t mean-spirited. But come on. Whoever wrote it should at least have had the guts to put their name to it. And didn’t that columnist even wonder what had gotten into everyone last night?
Will did. He still suspected that cowboy in the white hat of spiking their punch. And beyond the issue of who put what in Jordyn’s punch, the column and the encounter with the two ladies in Crawford’s store had him rethinking what to do next.
Because they were married, and everyone seemed to know it. And in a town like Rust Creek Falls, people took their wedding vows seriously. If he and Jordyn didn’t find the right way to deal with this accidental marriage of theirs, she would be shamed before the whole town, and he wouldn’t look like much of a man.
The more he reconsidered their situation, the more certain he became that he and Jordyn needed a better plan than just to race off to Kalispell to see if they could call the whole thing off. Because it was too damn late for that.
Chapter Three
In the morning, when Will pulled up in front of the boardinghouse, Jordyn Leigh was waiting on the front steps wearing faded jeans and a little white T-shirt. She jumped up and ran down the steps to meet him, the morning sun picking up glints of bronze and auburn in her pale gold hair.
“Hey.” She gave him a nod and a wobbly attempt at a smile as she pulled the passenger door shut. A hint of her scent came to him, that pleasing perfume he remembered from Saturday night, like flowers and spring grass and ripe, perfect peaches.
“Mornin’,” he said.
She plunked her bag at her feet, hooked up her seat belt and stared straight ahead.
He put it in gear and off they went. “You sleep okay?”
She sent him a look that said, Are you kidding? And then she went back to her intense study of the street ahead of them.
Once they got to the highway, he tried to get her talking—about harmless things. About the weather and her job at the local day care. But she was having none of it. Her answers consisted of as few words as possible. She volunteered nothing.
He went ahead and asked her if she’d seen the Gazette.
“I saw it,” she answered. That was it. Nothing more.
He kept trying. “I talked to Craig again last night. He had more on the Brad Crawford story—Brad’s the guy who won that ranch in the poker game.” He waited for a nod or a grunt from her to tell him she was listening. Nothing. He soldiered on. “Well, now the ranch belongs to Brad, and the former owner has vanished into thin air. Nobody’s seen him since Saturday night. Some folks are thinking there’s been foul play.”
Jordyn only shrugged and stared out the windshield.
Will gave it up. For the time being, anyway. They rode the rest of the way in silence.
In Kalispell, it only took a few minutes to get to the county justice center. Will parked in the lot, and they went in together. The county clerk’s office was on the third floor. They waited their turn in line and quickly learned that the clerk himself wasn’t in the office right then.
At that news, Jordyn muttered, “Thanks a bunch, Elbert.”
The woman who helped them told them that yes, their license was on file and they were indeed married. As Jordyn stood wide-eyed and silent at his side, Will went ahead with the original plan and asked about the possibility of an annulment.
The woman clucked her tongue as if in sympathy and then patiently explained that it would actually be very difficult for them to get an annulment. “In Montana, an annulment requires proof that there has been no sexual intercourse between the married couple. You can imagine how complicated proving that can be.”
Jordyn made a strangled sound. Will fully expected her to burst into tears, and he braced to deal with that.
But somehow she held it together, and the woman went right on, “What you want is a joint dissolution—joint dissolution meaning that you two file jointly for your divorce. It’s simple and straightforward and also fair.” She gave them the large packet of documents they would need and said that the same documents were also available to print off online.
“Fill them out completely and bring them back,” she said. “When you return all the needed documentation—in person, together—you’ll be given a hearing date a maximum of twenty days out. The hearing is a formality. Bottom line, twenty days from filing jointly, you will be divorced.”
They went back downstairs and out the door. Back in the quad cab, Jordyn remained scarily subdued.
Will tried again to get through to her. “Jordyn. I think we really need to talk some more about all this.”
But she only shook her head. “Just take me back to the boardinghouse, please.”
He drove north on Main and turned right on Center. Two blocks later, he pulled into the parking lot of a cute little café. The tidy building was painted white, and there were cheerful geraniums in cast-iron boxes at each of the wide windows. He switched off the engine and stuck his key in his pocket.
Jordyn shook off her funk long enough to send him a scowl. “What are you doing, Will?”
“I need some breakfast. Did you eat?”
Her eyes flashed with annoyance. “I told you, I want to go back to the boardinghouse.”
He slid his arm along the back of the seat and leaned a little closer to her. “So you didn’t eat.”
She just stared at him, her soft lower lip beginning to quiver.
He wanted to reach out and pull her close and tell her it was going to be all right. But he had a very strong feeling that if he so much as touched her, she would shatter. So he kept his hands to himself and said reasonably, “We need to eat. And we also need to talk.”
She bit her lip. And then at last, she nodded. “Okay,” she said in a voice that only shook a little. “We’ll eat. And you’re right. We should talk.”
* * *
Jordyn followed Will into the cheery little restaurant. She really didn’t want to be there. She felt so awful about everything, and Will was being so wonderful and calm and reasonable and understanding.
She wanted to grab him and hug him tight and tell him how great he was. But if she did, she would only end up blubbering like a big baby, and that would only make it all crappier than ever.
Dear Lord, they were married. They were really, truly married. And now they would have to get divorced. Jordyn didn’t believe in divorce. In her family, marriage was forever.
It was all so wrong.
She felt caught in some awful nightmare, one she couldn’t seem to make herself wake up from.
Will chose a table in the corner. The waitress came and poured them coffee. He ordered steak and eggs, and Jordyn opened her mouth to say she only wanted the coffee. But Will’s beautiful blue eyes were on her, giving her that look, both stern and gentle, so she ordered a pancake sandwich.
They sipped their coffee in silence until the food came. He dug right in. She drizzled syrup on her pancakes and nibbled at the bacon and felt a ray of hope that maybe he’d g
iven up on the idea that their accidental marriage demanded further discussion.
But he hadn’t given up. Once he’d worked his way through half his steak and two of his three eggs, he leaned across the table toward her and said, low-voiced so it stayed just between the two of them, “We need a better plan.”
She set down her half-eaten strip of bacon. “Better, how?”
He ate more steak, sipped his coffee. “I know you’re upset about this, Jordyn, and I don’t want to make it any worse than it already is for you, but have you thought about what to do if it turns out you’re pregnant?”
Her stomach lurched. She pushed her barely touched plate away and confessed in a whisper, “No. I... Oh, my God.” The thought that she might be pregnant hadn’t even occurred to her.
“I’m going to just lay it out there.” He held her gaze, steadily.
She coughed into her hand weakly, trying to clear the sudden lump from her tight throat. “All right.”
“I carry a condom in my wallet. It’s still there.”
“Oh,” she said, because she had no idea what else to say.
One black eyebrow lifted. “You’re not by any chance on the pill?” When she shook her head, he suggested, “So maybe you want to get that Plan B pill, just in case?”
Jordyn shook her head again. “I don’t believe I’m pregnant. And as for that Plan B pill...no. Just no. I’m not going there.”
Now Will wore his most patient expression. “All right. But you have to see that we can’t be sure about anything. It’s possible we had sex Saturday night. And if we did, then it’s possible that you’re pregnant.”
Her cheeks suddenly felt on fire. She pressed her hands against them to cool the flash of heat. “What do you want from me, Will?”
“You really want to know?” He waited for another nod from her before he said, “I think we need to stay married for a while.”
“But I don’t—”
“Wait. Hear me out.”
She pulled her coffee mug closer and wrapped her hands around it, seeking comfort from the warmth of it, from its curving, firm shape. “Go on.”
“Jordyn, if you’re having my baby, there will be no divorce. If there’s a baby, I want your agreement that we’ll find a way to make this marriage work.”
Oh, she did long to argue—that it was all a crazy nightmare, that a baby wasn’t possible.
But no. She needed to snap out of this numb state of denial she’d been dragging around in since she woke up in Will’s bed yesterday. They’d done...whatever they’d done on Saturday night. And if there was a baby, well, she and Will shared the same values. If there was a baby, they would make it work. “Okay, you’re right. I agree. About the baby. I mean, if there is one, we’ll stay married.”
He let out a slow breath. “Good.”
“But I’m sure there’s not.”
“Be sure all you want, Jordyn. It’s still possible, and we have to accept that.”
She longed to make him—to make somebody—understand. “I...well, I do have plans, Will. I know people think I just came to Rust Creek Falls to get myself a man—and maybe I did. A little. Because the truth is I am sort of a hopeless romantic.”
He slathered strawberry jam on a triangle of toast. “There’s nothing the least bit hopeless about you, Jordyn Leigh.”
His rueful words warmed her, deep down, where she needed warmth most right then. “Not hopeless, then.” She dared a smile. He gave her a grin in return. “But I am a romantic. I believe in love and marriage and family and forever. I believe in waiting for that one special man. And I guess that’s why what we did Saturday night—whatever it was—has me wanting to climb in my bed and hide under the covers. What we did flies hard in the face of everything I believe.”
“I know that.” He held her gaze in that unwavering way he had. “But we still have to deal with it the best way we can.”
“I know. I agree. And what I’m trying to say is, yes, I’m a romantic. I want real love and a true marriage. I’m...disappointed that I haven’t found the right guy when all four of my sisters are married and settled down, when everyone else seems to be coupled up and getting on with their lives. I’m disappointed, but I’m not giving up living over it. I haven’t been just sitting around waiting for some guy to show up and give my life meaning. I have plans of my own. Career plans.”
He ate another bite of steak. “Tell me about those plans.”
She sent him a sideways look. “You really want to know?”
“I do, absolutely.”
Did he mean that? He seemed to. She took him at his word. “Okay, then. I’ve been taking classes online, and I’m only a couple of semesters away from a degree in child development. I thought, well, okay. It didn’t work out for me in Rust Creek Falls. I’ve made good friends there and I’ve loved living there. But the true, forever love I hoped to find when I moved to town never showed up. So I decided it was time to try something new, you know? Time to get out in the big world and make my mark.”
“So...?”
“So I’m off to Missoula, to UMT, in the fall. I’m all enrolled and ready to go. I have a little money from Grandpa Cates, and I’ve saved enough to manage it, as long as I find a job once I get there. So I do have a plan. I have a dream, Will, I really do. I want to get my degree and have a meaningful, productive career. I’m leaving Rust Creek Falls at the end of August. And I don’t care what a few small-minded people there say.”
He set down his knife and fork and slowly shook his head. “I don’t believe you. I think you do care. And I care. I don’t accept that you should ever have to feel shamed or embarrassed by what happened Saturday night. And even if you’re leaving, I live in Rust Creek now. I want to be known as a man who honors his commitments.”
“But if it’s not a real commitment—”
“It is a real commitment.” He said it roughly, almost angrily. “We are actually married. No, it’s probably not going to last forever. But it is a commitment that we should both take seriously, that we need to treat with respect and dignity. I’ve said it before. We need a better plan. And I have one, a plan that will keep other people out of our business, a plan that doesn’t necessarily have to interfere with your going to college.”
She gulped. “You do?”
“Yeah. When did you say your fall term starts?”
“Orientation is second-to-last week of August.”
“That should work fine.”
“Uh, it should?”
“We’ll stay married through the summer. You’ll move in with me at my new place.”
That had her sitting up good and straight. “Tell me you didn’t just say that I would move in with you.”
“That is exactly what I said. You’ll move in at the ranch, and if anyone asks about your college plans, you’ll tell them all about how proud and supportive I am of you, how I’ve insisted you have your education, that it’s your lifetime dream, and I intend for you to have your dream.”
She tried to make a joke of it. “Gee, what a guy. I think you’re my hero.”
He didn’t miss a beat. “You’ll say how, even though you’re going to UMT this fall, you’ll be coming home often, because we hate to be apart.”
“I will?”
He nodded. “How long until you know if you’re pregnant?”
“You know, I think we ought to slow down a little here and—”
“How long, Jordyn?”
She knew that mulish look. He would be keeping after her until she answered him. “Oh, fine. A couple of weeks, I guess. I’m, um, pretty regular. Or I can probably take a home test sooner than that.”
“Say a couple of weeks, then, just for a reference point. If you are having a baby, we’ll figure out a way to make the marriage work. If not, we’ll file the papers at th
e end of July, and we’ll be divorced by the time you leave for Missoula.”
She fiddled with the salt shaker. “I’m just not sure this is such a good idea.”
“Well, I am. Questions?”
She had a powerful urge to bop him upside his thick head. “As a matter of fact, I do have a question.”
“Hit me with it.”
Oh, I wish. “Do you mean for us to share a room?”
He looked vaguely offended. “Jordyn. You know me better than that. I’m trying to help you, not put a move on you.”
“I think I would be better off just to be honest with everyone and deal with the fallout—and move on.”
The man did not miss a beat. “Well, you’re wrong. My way is better for both of us—and where was I? Oh, yeah. Separate rooms. But everywhere except in bed, we would be together, making it work.”
“But it would be a lie, Will. We would be lying to everyone.”
“No, we wouldn’t. Because we really are married. And it’s nobody’s business but ours how we choose to be married. And if it did turn out that you were pregnant, we would already have a life together. Think about that. Think about our innocent child.”
A wild laugh bubbled up inside her, and she couldn’t quite hold it back.
Those black brows drew together. “What’s so funny?”
“It’s just...you, Will. Determined to protect my reputation, so set on doing what you consider the right thing. I mean, we don’t even know if we had sex, yet you’re already talking about protecting the baby.”
He looked a tad insulted. “Exactly. On all counts. What of it?”
“So...I would pay you rent?”
He scowled. “Of course not.”
“But if I’m going to be staying at your place—”
“You mind doing some of the cooking, keeping things tidy, generally helping out around the house?”
“Of course I don’t mind, but I should still pay you—”
He cut her right off again. “You help out where needed. That’s more than enough payment for me. Believe me, there will be plenty of work to do. And the house has three bedrooms. I can only use one myself.”
The Maverick's Accidental Bride (Montana Mavericks: What Happened At The Wedding Book 1) (Contemporary Cowboy Romance) Page 4
