The Marine's E-Mail Order Bride (Heroes of Chance Creek Book 3)
Page 20
Chapter Twenty-One
‡
“I still can’t believe you asked me to be one of your bridesmaids,” Belinda said as she came out of the changing room in the back of Ellie’s Bridals in her sky-blue gown. Ella and Regan lined up next to her and together they struck a pose. “I love it that you’re including your sisters, too. They look so cute in their junior bridesmaid dresses.”
Storm had always known she’d have her sisters in her wedding when she married, but they were still so young she’d decided she needed a grownup set of bridesmaids, too. Austin and Mason would stand up with Zane, with Richard as a young counterpart to the three girls.
Ellie, the owner of the store, bustled into the fitting room area and clapped. “Those dresses are so elegant.”
“And they’re not pretending to be anything other than bridesmaid’s gowns,” Regan said. “I hate it when people try to make them usable again for other occasions. It never works!”
“I’m not pretending this occasion is anything other than it is—a big, ol’ awesome western wedding,” Storm said. “I’m a modern woman in every way, but I always wanted an old-fashioned wedding. Big white dress, big white cake, dancing…”
“Don’t forget cowboy boots.” Ella tugged up the hem of the beautiful gown that Storm had tried on to show her boots underneath.
“Well, that goes without saying,” Belinda said. “What kind of bride doesn’t wear boots?” She kept her face straight until the other women exchanged a look, then laughed at them. “I’m just kidding. Although I did wear boots to my wedding. I’m a country girl through and through.”
“I think I’ll wear them too,” Storm said. “As a sign to Zane that I mean to stay here. That I love it here.”
“That you love him,” Regan added.
“That I love him,” Storm agreed.
“So that’s three of you,” Belinda said. “Who will Colt bring home, I wonder?”
“I hope he doesn’t bring anyone,” Storm said. “I hope he falls back in love with Heather.”
“Everything is so good right now on the ranch I don’t want anything to change.” Ella posed in front of the mirror. “What if Colt brings someone new home that we all hate?”
“Don’t even say that.” Regan joined her. “Anyway, why borrow trouble? Come here, Belinda.” She held out a hand and pulled Belinda into place beside them. Storm joined them, standing in the middle. “Look at us. Aren’t we a picture?”
Ellie pulled a cell phone out of her pocket and snapped a photo. “Yes, you are.”
“Three weddings in one year,” Zane’s mother said when she arrived at the Hall. Zane helped carry her bag indoors and up the stairs to the third-floor room she’d use for the duration of her stay. He’d put her next to Cheyenne, hoping they’d get along and knowing his mother would enjoy the company of the girls down the hallway.
“I can’t wait for you to meet Storm.”
“She seems like a darling girl.”
“We’ve got some news, too.”
“Tell me.” She sat down on her bed and looked around the small room. “How strange it is to be up here where I used to put guests.”
He was instantly beside her. “Do you want us to move you downstairs? We can shuffle people around. I just thought—”
“Shh, it’s perfect. I simply miss it here.”
“As soon as Heloise gives us that deed, we’ll come to Florida to collect you,” he assured her.
“I can’t wait. But I can’t live with you in the Hall. And Austin’s taken the bunkhouse.”
“We’ll figure it out,” Zane assured her. “You belong here as much as we do. We’ll find a way that suits everyone.”
“What’s your news?”
“Be prepared to welcome another Hall baby in May or so. Storm’s pregnant.”
“You boys. Can’t even wait to get properly married, can you?” But she was beaming with happiness. “Grandchildren. I’m going to have oodles of grandchildren.” She looked at him archly. “Mason said you had a little trouble along the way to getting Storm to be your wife, but you got her in the end, didn’t you.”
“What Gunnery Sergeant Zane Hall wants, Gunnery Sergeant Zane Hall gets,” he said with satisfaction.
“What on earth are you talking about?”
“Nothing, Mom.” He dropped a kiss on her head. “Glad you’re here.”
A dusting of snow covered the ground on Thanksgiving and Storm was glad the Hall was so cozy. Her wedding would consist of an afternoon ceremony at the Chance Creek Reformed Church, and a catered dinner to follow at the Hall. The furniture had been removed from the large living room and replaced by small clusters of chairs and tables around an empty space reserved for dancing. Austin had put together a song list with Regan and Ella’s help and they’d wired the living room for sound, as well.
Mia Matheson helped in a million ways and Storm was glad to have her nearby as she primped for a final time in a small room at the church while all her new friends and family took their seats.
“You’re as pretty as a picture,” Mia said, fluffing out her veil. “It’s fun to watch the Hall boys bring home their brides. It’s fun to see you all working together the way we do at the Double-Bar-K, too.”
“This is a pretty special place.” Storm met her gaze in the mirror.
“That it is. Come on. I think they’re nearly ready for you.”
As she moved to leave her room, her mother met her in the doorway. “Mia, could you give us a minute?”
“Of course.”
As soon as they were alone, Cheyenne pressed an envelope into Storm’s hand.
“What’s this?”
“Open it.” Cheyenne smiled.
Storm tore open the envelope and pulled out a check. A shock ran through her at the amount it was made out for. “Mom—you didn’t need to do this.”
“I don’t need to buy you a ranch, so I’m giving you this instead. A nest egg.”
“It’s too much.”
“No, it isn’t,” Cheyenne said firmly. “Eight years of work, that’s what this signifies. Eight years of putting off your dreams to allow me the time to mourn my husband. What mother ever had a better daughter? I wish I could give you that time back, honey, but I can’t. This is all I can do.”
“I’ll start a college fund for the baby. And order in the best stock for my store anyone could imagine. People will be coming from California to shop there.”
“I bet they will. I’m so proud of you.”
Tears pricked Storm’s eyes. “What about you? Are you happy?”
“Happier than I’ve been in a long, long time.”
As the first chords of the wedding processional rang out in the church, Mia returned and beckoned Storm to take her place beside Hank, who had volunteered to walk her down the aisle. She took hold of his arm, trembling with emotion at what Cheyenne had done, but it was the cowboy at the end of the aisle who held her attention now. Zane stood strong and proud beside his brothers and Richard, waiting for her. Love and happiness swelled in her chest as she stepped toward him, and she couldn’t think of anywhere she’d rather be than in this country church, with this community she’d grown to love so much.
Near the altar, Zane watched her approach, beaming at her with pride and happiness until she fell in love with him all over again. As she joined him in front of the minister, Hank put her hand into Zane’s.
Zane squeezed it, his eyes telling her how much he loved her. She hoped he could read the depth of her love in hers.
“Dearly Beloved,” the minister began, and Storm’s heart filled to bursting.
She was right where she belonged.
Chapter Twenty-Two
‡
“Here’s to Colt,” Mason said, lifting a glass of champagne many hours later. Most of the guests had gone home after a wonderful meal of traditional Thanksgiving fare and vegetarian alternatives, followed up by dancing. Zane was happier than he could say with Storm pressed close to him, knowing
as he did he’d have a full week alone with her.
“To Colt,” the others answered, clinking their glasses together. Storm’s was filled with a non-alcoholic champagne substitute, but she was as flushed and happy as everyone else.
“I hope he gets in touch soon,” Regan said. “I can’t get used to this lack of communication.”
“Just part of the job,” Austin said. “Wish he was here, though.”
“Me, too.”
“Here’s to Heloise for bringing all of us together,” Ella said suddenly. “That woman is a pain in the ass, but she’s done a good thing here.”
“I’ll toast to that,” Zane said. He checked his watch. “And it’s time for us to go, Mrs. Hall.”
“I’ll get my things,” Regan said with a saucy grin.
“I’ll get my things, too,” Ella said. “A week in New Orleans sounds like just the ticket.”
“Sorry, ladies. I’m only taking Mrs. Zane Hall on this particular honeymoon.”
“And since this is the only honeymoon Mr. Zane Hall is ever taking, you’re out of luck,” Storm added pertly. She stood up and held out a hand to her husband. “Besides, I don’t think we’ll be very good company.”
“Nope.”
But as they drove off in the limousine hired to take them to the airport, Storm looked over her shoulder out the back window at Crescent Hall blazing with light, and found herself already anticipating their return in a few days’ time.
The ranch had become her home.
The End
The Heroes of Chance Creek series continues with The Airman’s E-Mail Order Bride.
Read on for an excerpt of Volume 1 of The Cowboys of Chance Creek series – The Cowboy’s E-Mail Order Bride. Please note that this novel is not part of the Heroes of Chance Creek series; it is the first in the earlier series, The Cowboys of Chance Creek.
Visit Cora Seton’s website and sign up for her Newsletter here. Find her on Facebook here.
Other Titles by Cora Seton:
The Heroes of Chance Creek:
The Navy SEAL’s E-mail Order Bride (Volume 1)
The Soldier’s E-Mail Order Bride (Volume 2)
The Navy SEAL’s Christmas Bride (Volume 3)
The Airman’s E-Mail Order Bride (Volume 5)
The Cowboys of Chance Creek:
The Cowboy’s E-mail Order Bride (Volume 1)
The Cowboy Wins a Bride (Volume 2)
The Cowboy Imports a Bride (Volume 3)
The Cowgirl Ropes a Billionaire (Volume 4)
The Sheriff Catches a Bride (Volume 5)
The Cowboy Lassos a Bride (Volume 6)
The Cowboy Rescues a Bride (Volume 7)
The Cowboy Earns a Bride (Volume 8)
The Cowboy’s E-Mail Order Bride
By Cora Seton
‡
Chapter One
“You did what?” Ethan Cruz turned his back on the slate and glass entrance to Chance Creek, Montana’s Regional Airport, and jiggled the door handle of Rob Matheson’s battered red Chevy truck. Locked. It figured—Rob had to know he’d want to turn tail and head back to town the minute he found out what his friends had done. “Open the damned door, Rob.”
“Not a chance. You’ve got to come in—we’re picking up your bride.”
“I don’t have a bride and no one getting off that plane concerns me. You’ve had your fun, now open up the door or I’m grabbing a taxi.” He faced his friends. Rob, who’d lived on the ranch next door to his their entire lives. Cab Johnson, county sheriff, who was far too level-headed to be part of this mess. And Jamie Lassiter, the best horse trainer west of the Mississippi as long as you could pry him away from the ladies. The four of them had gone to school together, played football together, and spent more Saturday nights at the bar than he could count. How many times had he gotten them out of trouble, drove them home when they’d had one beer to many, listened to them bellyache about their girlfriends or lack thereof when all he really wanted to do was knock back a cold one and play a game of pool? What the hell had he ever done to deserve this?
Unfortunately, he knew exactly what he’d done. He’d played a spectacularly brilliant prank a month or so ago on Rob—a prank that still had the town buzzing—and Rob concocted this nightmare as payback. Rob got him drunk one night and egged him on about his ex-fiancee until he spilled his guts about how much it still bothered him that Lacey Taylor had given him the boot in favor of that rich sonofabitch Carl Whitfield. The name made him want to spit. Dressed like a cowboy when everyone knew he couldn’t ride to save his life.
Lacey bailed on him just as life had delivered a walloping one-two punch. First his parents died in a car accident. Then he discovered the ranch was mortgaged to the hilt. As soon as Lacey learned there would be some hard times ahead, she took off like a runaway horse. Didn’t even have the decency to break up with him face to face. Before he knew it Carl was flying Lacey all over creation in his private plane. Las Vegas. San Francisco. Houston. He never had a chance to get her back.
He should have kept his thoughts bottled up where they belonged—would have kept them bottled up if Rob hadn’t kept putting those shots into his hand—but no, after he got done swearing and railing at Lacey’s bad taste in men, he apparently decided to lecture his friends on the merits of a real woman. The kind of woman a cowboy should marry.
And Rob—good ol’ Rob—captured the whole thing with his cell phone.
When he showed it to him the following day, Ethan made short work of the asinine gadget, but it was too late. Rob had already emailed the video to Cab and Jamie, and the three of them spent the next several days making his life damn miserable over it.
If only they’d left it there.
The other two would have, but Rob was still sore about that old practical joke, so he took things even further. He decided there must be a woman out there somewhere who met all of the requirements Ethan expounded on during his drunken rant. To find her, he did what any rational man would do. He edited Ethan’s rant into a video advertisement for a damned mail order bride.
And posted it on YouTube.
Rob showed him the video on the ride over to the airport. There he was for all the world to see, sounding like a jack-ass—hell, looking like one, too. Rob’s fancy editing made his rant sound like a proposition. “What I want,” he heard himself say, “is a traditional bride. A bride for a cowboy. 18—25 years old, willing to work hard, beautiful, quiet, sweet, good cook, ready for children. I’m willing to give her a trial. One month’ll tell me all I need to know.” Then the image cut out to a screen full of text, telling women how to submit their video applications.
Unbelievable. This was low—real low—even for Rob.
Ready for children?
“You all are cracked in the head. I’m not going in there.”
“Come on, Ethan,” Cab said. The big man stood with his legs spread, his arms folded over his barrel chest, ready to stop him if he tried to run. “The girl’s come all the way from New York. You’re not even going to say hello? What kind of a fiance are you?”
He clenched his fists. “No kind at all. And there isn’t any girl in there. You know it. I know it. So stop wasting my time. There isn’t any girl dumb enough to answer something like that!”
The other men exchanged a look.
“Actually,” Jamie said, leaning against the Chevy and rubbing the stubble on his chin with the back of his hand. “We got nearly 200 answers to that video. Took us hours to get through them all.” He grinned. “Who can resist a cowboy, right?”
As far as Ethan was concerned, plenty of women could. Lacey certainly had resisted him. Hence his bachelor status. “So you picked the ugliest, dumbest girl and tricked her into buying a plane ticket. Terrific.”
Rob looked pained. “No, we found one that’s both hot and smart. And we chipped in and bought the ticket—round trip, because we figured you wouldn’t know a good thing when it kicked you in the butt, so we’d have to send her back. Have a
little faith in your friends. You think we’d steer you wrong?”
Hell, yes. Ethan took a deep breath and squared his shoulders. The guys wouldn’t admit they were joking until he’d gone into the airport and hung around the gate looking foolish for a suitable amount of time. And if they were stupid enough to actually fly a girl out here, he couldn’t trust them to put her back on a plane home. So now instead of finishing his chores before supper, he’d lose the rest of the afternoon sorting out this mess.
“Fine. Let’s get this over with,” he said, striding toward the front door. Inside, he didn’t bother to look at the television screen which showed incoming and outgoing flights. Chance Creek Regional had all of four gates. He’d just follow the hall as far as homeland security allowed him and wait until some lost soul deplaned.
“Look—it’s on time.” Rob grabbed his arm and tried to hurry him along. Ethan dug in the heels of his well worn boots and proceeded at his own pace.
Jamie pulled a cardboard sign out from under his jacket and flashed it at Ethan before holding it up above his head. It read, Autumn Leeds. Jamie shrugged at Ethan’s expression. “I know—the name’s brutal.”
“Want to see her?” Cab pulled out a gadget and handed it over. Ethan held it gingerly. The laptop he bought on the advice of his accountant still sat untouched in his tiny office back at the ranch. He hated these miniature things that ran on swoops and swipes and taps on buttons that weren’t really there. Cab reached over and pressed something and it came to life, showing a pretty young woman in a cotton dress in a kitchen preparing what appeared to be a pot roast.
“Hi, I’m Autumn,” she said, looking straight at him. “Autumn Leeds. As you can see, I love cooking…”
Rob whooped and pointed. “Look—there she is! I told you she’d come!”
Ethan raised his gaze from the gadget to see the woman herself walking toward them down the carpeted hall. Long black hair, startling blue eyes, porcelain-white skin, she was thin and haunted and luminous all at the same time. She, too, held a cell phone and seemed to be consulting it, her gaze glancing down then sweeping the crowd. As their eyes met, hers widened with recognition. He groaned inwardly when he realized this pretty woman had probably watched Rob’s stupid video multiple times. She might be looking at his picture now.