A Wedding for Christmas

by Lori Wilde

  It was all so sad, and if Gabi hadn’t come out onto the patio and shooed them inside, Ryder had no idea what they would have done next. Hugged? Kissed? Ripped into each other? Walked away?

  Didn’t matter. They were members of the wedding and they had a rehearsal dinner to eat.

  Chapter 25

  Ryder spent a restless night. After he got home from the rehearsal dinner, Jax was in a particularly pissy mood and they had it out. A Realtor had dropped by and left his card. Jax, who’d had hours to work up a head of steam, accused Ryder of trying to steal the ranch and sell it right out from under him.

  Following on the heels of Katie’s news, Ryder was in no mood for the old man’s crazy shit. “If you’re losing the ranch, it’s your own fault,” he said. “I bailed you out this time, but I’m not doing it again. You’re on your own, and I’m going to bed. Tomorrow is Christmas Eve and I’ve got a wedding to attend. Good night.”

  Jax said some choice words and stomped off.

  Ryder went to bed. Looked up the ceiling, and wondered why he was here. He didn’t belong in this town. There was nothing for him here. His father hated him. He wasn’t a rancher. Even Joe was so wrapped up with Gabi, they hadn’t had any time to hang out together. Understandable, but it only served to underscore that there was really nothing for him here.

  Lone wolf.

  That’s what he was. What he’d always be. He’d been dumb to hope for otherwise.

  The alarm woke him up at six a.m. on Christmas Eve. Those best man duties. He got dressed, made bacon and eggs for Jax, who surprisingly mumbled, “Thanks,” and went over to Joe’s. Gabi had spent the night at the Merry Cherub with her parents in town from LA.

  Joe was a nervous wreck, pacing and memorizing his vows. Ryder double checked everything he was responsible for. Secret getaway car so when Joe’s prankster brothers and friends shoe-polished his truck, they could thumb their noses at them. Practiced his toast. Made sure he had Gabi’s wedding ring secured.

  At eight o’clock, Gabi called him in a panic. “Ryder, where’s Katie?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “She’s not with you?”

  “No.”

  “Ask Joe, is she with Joe?”

  “I’m with Joe,” Ryder said. “She’s not here.”

  “She’s supposed to be with me. Where is she? I called her phone and she’s not answering. I called her parents and they haven’t seen her. I called Jenny and Sam and Mac and Ben and everyone I can think of and no one has heard from her. My dad drove by her house but her car isn’t there or if it is, it’s in the garage and she’s not answering the door. Ryder, I’m flipping out. You’ve got to find her! I can’t get married without my maid of honor.”

  “Gabi,” he said calmly.

  “Yes?”

  “Breathe. Slow and deep. Joe is going to call you and talk to you. And I’m going to go find Katie. I’ll find her and bring her to you and everything is going to be just fine. The wedding isn’t until eleven. It’s all going to be fine.”

  “Do you promise, Ryder? Promise me.”

  “I promise, Gabi. I’m hanging up now.” Ryder hung up, turned to Joe. “Call your bride and talk her down. I’m going after your sister.”

  “Do you know where she’s at?” Joe asked.

  “No, but I’m going to find out.”

  Ryder drove to Katie’s house. Gabi’s father might have come over, but he didn’t have a remote control for the garage. From all the times he’d hidden his Harley in her garage, Ryder did.

  He hit the remote. The door rose. There was Katie’s car. He went into the garage and closed the door, privacy from the neighbors. He knocked on the door leading from the garage into the house, got no answer, but he heard Harry meow.

  Whipping out his phone, he called her. Voice mail. Dammit.

  “Katie?” He tried the knob. Locked. But it was a flimsy lock. He took a credit card from his pocket and jimmied the lock. His stint as a juvenile delinquent was finally paying off.

  He stepped inside. Harry eeled around his legs. “No time for a scratch, buddy.”

  Water running. Bathroom.

  He moved down the hall, calling her name so he didn’t startle her if she’d been in the shower and hadn’t heard all the ruckus. “Katie? You there?”

  He reached the bathroom, knocked on the door. “Katie?”

  No answer. Just the shower continuing to run.

  What if she’d hopped in the shower this morning, fallen and hit her head, and she was unconscious?

  Fear ripped through him.

  “Katie!” Ryder hammered on the door, his heart pounding faster with each passing moment that she didn’t answer. “Katie, are you in there? If you’re in there, answer me, dammit.”

  She didn’t answer, but he thought he heard something besides the running water.

  Ryder pressed his ear to the door. Crying. She was crying, sobbing as if her heart would break.

  “Katie Cheek,” he blustered in a bear growl. “Open this door right now or I swear to God, I’ll smash it in.”

  “Go away,” she blubbered so incoherently, he wasn’t sure that’s what she said. “I’m a mess.”

  “We have a wedding to get to. Gabi is depending on you. Now is not the time for a meltdown.”

  “I . . . I . . .” She was bawling so hard he couldn’t hear what she was saying.

  “Katie, I’m dead serious. This door is coming down in one . . .” He paused, raised his voice, and eyed the door. He wasn’t afraid to smash it in. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d knocked in a door. It was thin and he was big, but he didn’t want to smash it in on her if she was crouched near the door. “Two . . .”

  He readied his shoulder, lowered his head. “Get out of the way. I’m coming in . . . three!”

  Ryder charged the door, teeth set, leading with his shoulder, ready for impact.

  The door opened just as his shoulder touched it and he went flying in, smacked hard into the counter, momentum knocking him back into the wall. He slumped to the floor, staring at Katie who sat on the closed lid of the toilet, blinking at him bleakly, tears streaming down her face.

  “Damn, honey,” he said kindly. “You look horrible.”

  “I know,” she howled, and blotted her eyes with toilet paper, little fluffs of white lint clung to her lashes. “I’m an ugly crier. Even my mother says so. You know you’re an ugly crier when your mother says you’re an ugly crier.”

  “You’re not ugly,” he said. “You just look like you’ve been put through the wringer. What happened? What’s wrong?”

  “I got my period!” she yowled. “I lost our baby, Ryder, and you bought that cute little jacket and I would have loved to name her Lucy after your mother.”

  “Oh sweetheart, oh baby. I’m so sorry.” He crawled to her, pulled her off the toilet seat and into his arms. Held her and rocked her and cooed in her ear and when his cell phone rang, he grabbed it from his pocket, growled, “Got her, we’ll be right there.”

  And ended the call.

  “Baby,” he said, stroking her hair. “Gabi’s counting you on being there for her and I know you’re not the kind of person who would let down a friend. Do you think you can do this? I know you want to do this for your friend, but if you can’t do it, that’s okay. I’ll take care of it. Do you want to do this?”

  Katie nodded. “I want to.”

  “Okay, I’m going to help you up. You ready to get up?”

  “Uh-huh.” But it was as if her legs wouldn’t support her.

  Ryder got underneath her arms, levered her to a standing position, but she flopped against him, limp and listless.

  “I was trying to take a shower, but I couldn’t stop thinking about Lucy.”

  “Shh, we’ll shower. I’ll shower with you.”

  He stripped off both their clothes and got them into the shower, but it had been running a long time and all the hot water was gone.

  “Yowl!” Katie cried when the cold water hit he
r skin.

  Ryder had taken many a cold shower when he was in the military. He just gritted his teeth and held on to her. “I know it’s uncomfortable, but sometimes in order to grow we need to get out of our comfort zone.”

  “That’s horseshit.”

  “Probably,” he said. “But it woke you up and got some of your spunk back.”

  He soaped her up; she was shivering from head to toe but her skin pinked up and her eyes brightened. He helped her out of the shower, ignored his own chilled body, wrapped her in a big bath towel, and carried her to bed. He buried her under the covers, then went back to the bathroom to clean up and get dressed again.

  When he returned to the bedroom, she was sitting up. He fetched the blow dryer, plugged it in, and brushed her hair while he blow dried it.

  “Better now?” he said when he’d finished.

  “Better.”

  “It’s going to be okay.”

  Her smile was halfhearted, but at least it was a smile. “Ryder,” she said. “Thank you for coming for me. Despair and inertia had such a hold on me I don’t think I could have snapped out of it without you.”

  He leaned over and kissed her forehead. “Yes, you would have. You’re tougher than you think. Do you need help getting dressed?”

  “No thanks,” she said. “I’ve got it from here.”

  “All right,” he said. “But I’m waiting around in case you need me.”

  “Joe needs you.”

  “You need me more.” He squeezed her hand.

  “I’m a wreck.”

  “No you’re not. You’re amazing.” He bent again, kissed her on the lips this time, soft and slow.

  She slipped her arms around his neck, tried to pull him down on the bed on top of her.

  “Not now, you little minx. We’ve got a wedding to get to. Rain check. This kiss will have to hold you until then.”

  The wedding was magical. A storybook affair for the ages. Gabi was the most beautiful bride. Joe the handsomest of grooms. And as they were leaving the chapel for the reception hall, a light sprinkling of snow drifted from the sky, which had everyone oohing and aahing.

  They played Christmas music at the reception, and served a traditional turkey dinner. Toasts were made. Waltzes were danced. Party favors were given out. Hands were shaken.

  Ryder put his arm around Katie’s chair, leaned in close. “How you doing?”

  “I’m all right.” Her smile was brighter, improving, but there was still the hint of sadness. He wished he had a magic wand to wave and make it all better. They’d only had the idea of a baby in their lives for a short time, but the kid had already made an impact. It was startling how much it hurt.

  The death of a dream.

  “Dance with me?” Katie stood up and held out her hand.

  “Gladly.” He stood up, wrapped his arm around her waist, and led her out onto the dance floor.

  He pulled her close to him, smelled the sweet scent of her hair, and for a moment it felt as if everything was going to be all right.

  “Ryder,” Katie whispered.

  “Yes?”

  “I know you’re big and strong and decisive and domineering and you’re afraid that admitting you have tender feelings will make you look like a wuss, but sometimes, a woman needs to hear her guy whisper sweet nothings. Maybe it’s a failing for the fairer sex. I don’t know. I just know it’s a thing.”

  He scratched his ear. “Um, yeah. I think we’ve covered that.”

  “I have another question.”

  “All ears.”

  “Where do we go from here?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Our relationship. The wedding is over. Your dad is home and doing as well as could be expected. You’ve saved the ranch, at least for the interim. You have a job to get back to in LA. We’re not having a baby. Where does that leave us?”

  Um . . . He had a feeling this was a loaded question. One he didn’t really have an answer to. “I don’t know. We still have to process losing the baby.”

  “Did you know that a lot of couples who lose a child get divorced?”

  Booby-traps. Land mines. What was it with women and questions like this? Did they enjoy seeing their men blow themselves up? “They probably didn’t have a strong marriage to begin with.”

  “Maybe, maybe not.”

  “What are you saying, Katie?”

  “I’m saying what if we had gotten married and we lost the baby after it was born? Would we have made it?”

  “This is a hypothetical question. I don’t see the point of it.”

  “Do you still want to marry me now that there’s no baby?” She stopped dancing, and he had to stop too.

  “Absolutely,” he said honestly. “Maybe not right away. A long courtship might be fun before diving headfirst into parenthood.” From the look on her face he could tell he’d detonated one of those land mines. Ka-blewy.

  “And there it is,” she murmured. “The inability to commit.”

  “Hey.” He notched up his chin. “I wanted to marry you. I was all in.”

  “When there was a baby. You were all in for the baby, but not me.”

  “That’s not fair.”

  “No?”

  “I committed to the army,” he pointed out.

  “Well hooray for you. I’m sure Uncle Sam appreciates that greatly. But hey, answer me this. If you were so committed to the army, why did you only serve two terms? Why not career military? Most people are either one-termers or lifers. Seems to me like you only half committed.”

  “You’re mad at me.”

  “Oh really.” She sank her hands on her hips, cocked her head. “What was your first clue?”

  “It’s okay.” He made calming motion with his hands. “You’ve suffered a blow. Your hormones are all over the place . . .”

  Even as the words slipped out of his mouth, he could see himself in slow motion setting off that huge bomb. Ka-motherjamming-boom.

  “Oh no, you didn’t.” She ground out the words.

  “Pretend I didn’t say that last part. Erase, erase, erase.” He painted on a pretty smile that stood a good chance of getting him slapped. “Joke. Hee hee.”

  Tears bloomed in her eyes. “A miscarriage is not a joking matter.”

  Okay. Throw himself in middle of the minefield. Kamikaze style. A sacrifice. A warning salvo for the entire male species. When dealing with an upset woman, sit down, and shut the fuck up.

  “I wasn’t joking about that,” he said soberly.

  “I hope you weren’t.”

  All right. Enough wedding reception for him. The bride and groom were gone. Katie had a ride home. Best thing he could do, walk away. She was going through something and he was only making it worse. Best plan of action, let her be. Call her tomorrow, grovel profusely, send flowers. Fresh start. Just like her company logo.

  He held up his hands in surrender and walked away.

  “Are you walking away while I’m talking to you?” Katie came after him.

  Ryder ducked his head, aware that people were staring at them. He moved a little faster.

  “Don’t run away from me when I’m talking to you.”

  He quickened his pace. He could see the Harley in the parking lot from here.

  “Ryder Southerland,” she yelled, trotting after him. “We’re not done hashing this out.”

  He spun on his heels so he could walk very fast backward and glare at her, making his face a thundercloud, hoping to scare her off with a show of masculine bravado. “I’m not running away.”

  “You’re moving in the opposite direction at a trot. What would you call it?”

  “I wasn’t trotting,” he said. “I do not trot.”

  “Trotter.”

  His jaw tightened and he stopped. “Okay. Here I am. Standing still. What did you want to discuss?”

  “You look like you’d rather be having a root canal.”

  “Well . . .” He shrugged. “Maybe.”

  “Is talking
about your feelings that difficult?”

  “What are you talking about? I’m not having any feelings.”

  “Of course you are. Everyone has feelings. All the time. Even hardheaded macho men who are so scared of expressing their feelings they pretend they don’t have any.”

  He groaned. “Why do women do this?”

  “Do what?”

  “Poke and prod and try to get men to open up and when we do . . .”

  “What?”

  “You don’t like what we have to say.” He lowered his head, lowered his eyes, lowered his voice. Growled. Grr.

  “You don’t scare me. You ran out on me when you were seventeen and the going got tough, why would it be any different now just because it’s thirteen years later.”

  “Whatever you say.”

  “Bye, lone wolf. Hope you find what you’re looking for.”

  “I’m sure I will. Eventually.”

  “You know,” she said, shaking a finger at him, “that’s bullshit too.”

  “What is?”

  “Wolves aren’t loners. They’re pack animals.”

  All right. Crazy town time. No judgment. She was completely entitled. He loved her, even if he couldn’t say it. He was just going to give her the time and space she needed to heal.

  So he did exactly what she said he would do. He hopped on his Harley and sped away.

  Chapter 26

  Ryder had a plan. He was going back to California until this blew over. Obviously he was agitating Katie. He’d lie low and see how things shook out. Might as well get on the road. He stopped at the ranch. Surprisingly, his father wasn’t there. He left him a note, grabbed his gear, and headed west.

  He’d be back. Hopefully.

  If Katie ever spoke to him again. And yes, okay, maybe he was feeling a little sorry for himself, but he’d get over it.

  Ryder crossed the Brazos River and was half an hour out of town as the sun was setting on Christmas Eve. Houses along the road lit up with decorations.

  His cell phone vibrated in the pocket of his leather jacket. Katie! He pulled over on the side of the road, took out his phone, hopes soaring.