Last Year's Bride (Montana Born Brides)

by Anne McAllister

  It might have been just good theater, skillful editing—Nell at work. Undoubtedly it was Nell at work. But seeing them in person together now, Cole didn’t think it was only Nell’s storytelling that they were seeing.

  If Mac had stopped being joined at the ear to his cell phone, Maggie had stopped needing to be a corporate lawyer every waking hour.

  “I discovered there’s more to me than that,” she had explained on the same episode. “I baked a pie and people actually ate it.” She had laughed when she said that, but there was an unexpected sincerity in her words. “I never learned any of that growing up,” she’d confessed. “I was a brain. A logical little nightmare of a child. I was good at academic stuff, so that’s what I did. As for the rest—traditional girl stuff—I didn’t bother. I might have failed,” she confided. “So I didn’t do it.”

  But now she’d done it. She’d met the challenge, found surprising satisfaction, wanted to do more, and actually believed she and Mac were capable of ‘more than a merger,’ she said with a twinkle in her eye. “We might manage a real marriage.”

  Against all early odds, they were on target to be the winners of The Compatibility Game. The only other couple left was Chandler and Beth—and they were going their separate ways as soon as the show was over.

  They were sticking it out, though, because they’d made the commitment. “Beth challenged me to do it,” Chandler said. “She said she wanted to see what I could do in the real world. It turns out summer camp—some of them, at least,” he qualified with a grin, “—can teach you a lot of things.”

  It hadn’t taught him how to repair barbed wire fences or how to deliver a calf, but Cole remembered that he’d been a master at chopping wood. And Chandler knew how to ride horses better than any of the other guys because he’d learned at camp. He was even surprisingly good at mending tack.

  “Not summer camp?” Cole had said.

  “Oh, yeah, it was.” Chandler had grinned. “All that braiding lanyards.”

  And while he had never roped a calf before, his having been awarded Most Determined Camper, according to Beth who had met him there when they were twelve, had pre-determined his approach to life.

  “He wants to master everything,” she said, rolling her eyes.

  He was determined to learn to rope, that was certain. And once Cole showed him the basics the first morning they were back that second week, Chandler was rarely without a rope in his hand. He roped Beth so often she threatened to punch him.

  “Grow up!” she shouted at him, untangling herself and flinging the rope back at him, providing Len with some marvelous footage.

  “Says the woman stamping her foot and throwing things.” Chandler grinned.

  Beth stuck her tongue out at him.

  “Perfect!” Nell crowed.

  It was, all around, a pretty perfect week. The weather cooperated, so did the cast. Nell got the best out of them even as she pushed them to their limits. The last day they were shooting the branding in the afternoon with the guys, and then the after-branding supper for all the help which was the last of Maggie’s and Beth’s challenges.

  And on the day they were branding, Cole learned that Chandler was also extraordinarily good at the quick sharp moves on horseback needed to cut a calf away from its mother.

  “Summer camp?” Cole guessed, watching with respect as Chandler parted one calf after another away from their dismayed mothers.

  Chandler took off his cowboy hat and wiped a hand across a sweaty brow before slanting Cole a grin. “Nope,” he said. “Polo.”

  Cole just laughed.

  Chapter Eight

  “I have an announcement to make.” Jane of the Chamber of Commerce had been clinking her teaspoon on her glass for half a minute before anyone noticed.

  The last of the last challenges—the after-branding dinner made by Maggie and Beth with a little help and advice from Em—had been accomplished. The camera guys had shot them cooking earlier, during a break from when they’d shot the branding, and they had just finished shooting everyone enjoying the actual meal. The real cowboys who had come to help brand, as well as a whole bunch of hangers-on—like Jane—had got to sit down and eat. Now the shooting was over, the cameras were packed up, some of the guys were outside right now disassembling the dolly tracks and packing up gear.

  And Jane was banging her teaspoon again and standing up, a broad smile on her face as the room gradually quieted. “I just want to take a moment to say thank you to the crew and cast of The Compatibility Game for putting Marietta on the map. I saw the first episode and it was fantastic, and I’m sure this one will be even better. And it will let the world outside know what a wonderful place Marietta is—and what a wonderful place McCulloughs’ ranch is,” she added with a smile and a glance down at Sam who was sitting beside her, looking up at her like she was hanging the stars.

  Everyone clapped and cheered and there was considerable hoisting of beer.

  “Wait. Wait!” Jane said and plunged on. “I know what a wonderful place it is now. And what a wonderful man Sam McCullough is. And—” she paused here, as if she suddenly—and probably for the first time in her life— didn’t know what she was going to say. Then she simply blurted, “Sam and I are getting married!”

  Cole choked. He very nearly spewed beer all over himself. He swallowed, coughed, and felt his eyes begin to water. He looked at Sam, expecting to see denial on his face, but he saw only bemusement and a kind of wry grin instead.

  “I tried to talk her out of it,” Sam said amid the general uproar of astonishment.

  Jane clinked the teaspoon again. Silence followed instantly this time, and everyone looked at her, avid to hear whatever she was going to say next.

  “It’s true,” Jane admitted. “He did. I proposed,” she said, and Cole could see a blush light her cheeks as she did so. “And he gave me eleven reasons why it wouldn’t work.” She shrugged. “And I just said, if that’s all you’ve got, just say yes and save us time arguing.”

  Everyone—even Sam—laughed at that. But then he said with a lift of his shoulders, “She was pretty persuasive.” He gave her a sidelong look. “So I did.”

  And then he did the most astonishing thing of all. He stood up, took Jane in his arms and kissed her. Not just pecked. Kissed.

  “Get a room!” One of the cowboys called.

  And Jane and Sam broke off the kiss, laughing, but looking like they very much wished they could get a room right then. Cole looked at Nell, mortified at his old man’s behavior. But Nell was laughing and applauding and congratulating them. Sadie was taking pictures with her phone. And even Em, sitting back in her chair, looked most pleased.

  The general hubbub continued. There were toasts and ribald comments and Sam seemed to take them all in stride, as did Jane once she’d got over making the announcement itself.

  “Isn’t it wonderful?” Nell said to him beneath the general roar.

  Now that he was adjusting to the shock of it, Cole supposed it was. There would be, presumably, one less person now in the cabin with them on their honeymoon. And his wife’s work was essentially done. That left the puppies, of course. But Cole began to see a real upside to the turn of events.

  “Don’t forget, though,” he reminded his father a little bit later, “we’ve still got to take McKay’s cattle up to the summer range next week.” Nell would be gone back to L.A. by then to finish up, but Jane would still be there, tempting Sam.

  “I’ll tear myself away,” Sam said with a grin. “Besides, we’re takin’ things slow. We aren’t marrying in a rush,” he added. “Not like some.”

  The story of his spur of the moment wedding to Nell had made the rounds, but had ceased to be an item of discussion. Now amid the good-natured laughter, Cole felt his face burn. And it got even hotter a moment later when Nell hooked her arm in his and kissed him hard. It was a kiss that rivaled the one Sam and Jane had shared. Cole’s toes curled. He gripped Nell’s arms and while he would have loved to haul her off to
the cabin, he made himself break the kiss.

  “Don’t start somethin’ you’re not willing to finish,” he muttered, still trying to get his cool back.

  Nell laughed. “Oh, I’m willing!”

  Cole rubbed the back of his neck. “Thank God whoever was takin’ photos for the paper is gone.” He could just imagine the ribbing he’d take if a picture of that kiss made the Copper Mountain Courier.

  “I could sell them a picture or two,” Sadie said, waving her phone.

  “Not if you want to see the sun come up tomorrow.” Cole gave her a steely-eyed glare.

  “I won’t,” Sadie promised. “But you know Marly is still here.”

  “Marly?”

  Sadie nodded toward the fair-skinned, dark-haired young woman talking to Jane and Sam. “Marly Akers. She’s back in town. She’s writing for the Courier now. And going out with Drake Everett.”

  “Drake?” Cole’s eyes widened in surprise. He looked closer at the woman and realized she looked familiar. She also looked pregnant. Or maybe he’d seen too many heifers recently and everything looked pregnant. He didn’t ask.

  “You need to get off the ranch more. Yes, Drake. And she’s writing a series of articles on locals who’ve made a difference.”

  “Sam?” Cole couldn’t quite fathom it—unless his father’s courtship of Jane, or Jane’s of him, was making a difference in Marietta.

  “No, stupid. She writing about Em.”

  “Em?” Another surprise. The evening seemed to be full of them.

  “It’s on women who make a difference,” Sadie said. “And Em has made a difference.”

  “Well, of course she has. She raised us.” Cole knew that. But he wasn’t sure it was worthy of a newspaper article.

  “She’s done a lot for Marietta, too. She taught music at the school, remember? And she played the piano at I don’t know how many programs. And she’s directed the Christmas pageant for fifty years!”

  “Fifty?” It boggled the mind. Cole knew his grandmother had done stuff for the community. And he knew she’d been involved in the Christmas pageant. Hell, she’d involved him in it. He’d been a shepherd and a wise man and a townsperson and a hardware store. And once, memorably, he’d been a snowman. And yeah, he remembered Em really getting into the program, bossing them all around. But he hadn’t thought a lot about it because she bossed him around at home, too.

  “Fifty years,” Sadie repeated. “She deserves a newspaper article.”

  She deserved a medal, in Cole’s estimation. He looked over at his grandmother who was sipping a cup of coffee and smiling as she surveyed the whole scene, looking as if she’d orchestrated the whole thing. When her gaze lit on Sam, her smile got just a little wider. She had to be glad that her son had met someone who made him happy, even though Cole was still a little wary. Sam didn’t always make the best choices.

  But Em was ever the optimist. And if Sam screwed this up, that was his problem. But if he was confident enough to agree to marry Jane after years of steering clear of any marriage-minded woman, maybe he’d made the right choice this time. They could all hope.

  Now Cole nodded and looked at his stalwart, steady, stubborn grandmother again, sipping and smiling. “Yeah,” he said. “She’s special. A newspaper article won’t begin to do her justice.”

  Almost home.

  Nell surveyed the ranch from the porch of Sam’s house and felt a bone-deep sense of satisfaction. In ten days or less she would have finished up the editing in L.A., have put the show to bed, as it were, and she would be coming back to the ranch for good. She and Cole would settle into the cabin and life would be good.

  It was already good. Better than she’d dared hope for.

  So she just stood now, savoring the sense of accomplishment with the show and the sense of rightness every time she looked at the man currently teaching Chandler how to throw a rope, and let the happiness wash over her. The glorious Montana scenery didn’t hurt, either. Across the valley, the Gallatins still wore their snowy caps. But the bright green new grass of spring covered the valley floor. The darker pines stood stolidly against some of the lower ridges, but below them vivid new emerald leaves were bursting out on the aspens. She would never get tired of looking at it.

  Happily, too, almost all signs of the television production that had threatened to eat the ranch during the previous week had vanished already. Well, there were still deep ruts in the soft spring ground where the generator truck had sat, and some a couple of serious gouges where its wheels had dug down while trying to leave this morning after the rain that had come over night.

  But by mid-morning it was gone, and so was the crew. Now only Mac and Maggie and Beth and Chandler remained. They were out on the lawn where they had just finished the lunch Em, Maggie and Beth had provided.

  “No sense in staying inside on a nice day like today,” Em had said, loading them down with food and plates and silverware and gesturing them out the door.

  There was a bit of a north wind and it certainly wasn’t Southern California balmy, but they had basked in the spring weather, enjoying the hamburgers, the potato salad and coleslaw and, especially, the rhubarb dessert that Maggie had made.

  “It’s Em’s recipe, of course,” she’d confessed. “But I think it turned out pretty well, don’t you?”

  They all thought it was terrific.

  Mac ate three pieces. “You’re giving her the recipe, right?” he’d said to Em.

  “I’m giving her all my recipes,” Em assured him. “And you both can come back any time.”

  “We will,” they had vowed.

  Now Nell watched them fondly. All four of the contestants who had remained until the last had been a source of amazement to her. The stories she had imagined for them hadn’t played out quite the way she’d expected they would.

  Chandler was still over on the far side of the lawn, still practicing with the rope, imitating everything Cole did, determined, as Beth had said, ‘to be the master of everything.’

  Certainly he was far more interested in the technical aspects of everything that went on than he was in being in front of the camera. He did it because Beth had dared him to and, as he’d said in the very first episode, “I didn’t have anything better to do.”

  Now, it seemed, he did. He’d said in the material they’d shot yesterday that he hadn’t made up his mind whether to try to get his PRCA card and go rodeoing or not. He thought he might. Or, he said, he might go back to school and study film making. Whatever he decided, he said he was not dipping into the family trust fund. He wasn’t ready to take the accepted road and join the family company.

  “Maybe someday. I have to spend a while being myself before I can do that,” he had said.

  Not surprisingly, Beth didn’t want to wait around to discover who Chandler was going to turn out to be. She was going back to Connecticut and teaching fourth grade just as she’d done previously. “It’s not that I’m the same person,” she’d assured them. “I can’t believe how much I’ve learned, how much I’ve changed.”

  And she wasn’t going home alone, either. She was taking a puppy with her. Ziggy was the smallest of the pups and a little more docile than some of them. But he followed Beth around everywhere, and right now he was sitting in her lap, chewing contentedly on the sleeve of her sweater while she nuzzled him and talked to Jane and Sam.

  The other two were even more surprising. Hard-edged, hyper-critical Mac, a.k.a. Mr BadAss, was lying on his back in the grass with three puppies climbing all over him, nibbling on the toes of his boots, chewing the hems of his jeans, laughing while Maggie added more pups to the pile.

  He’d done it yesterday in the living room. The camera crew had caught it. And Nell knew before she even saw it that it would be in the final cut. So would a lingering shot of Maggie and Mac with their arms around each other, just looking into each other’s eyes.

  They had started out edgy, prickly and hyper, surprisingly wary of each other for a couple who were engaged.
“We weren’t getting married,” Mac had said last night at the dinner table. “We were creating a merger.”

  Whatever challenges the show’s episodes had made them tackle, those challenges had made them see not only each other, but themselves. Now they had a new appreciation for each other. They were comfortable in each other’s presence. They trusted each other because they trusted themselves. You could see it. The camera didn’t lie.

  The viewers had spotted it first. The viewers’ reactions to the early episodes, which had rarely favored Mac and Maggie, changed after the calving and the apple pie episode. The audience had seen Maggie struggle to do something she found difficult. They’d seen her find a bit of humility—and eventual success—in the process. They’d seen Mac go from his cell-phone toting, aggressive, cocky self to a man in awe of the new life he’d delivered that night in the calving shed. Nell wouldn’t have given anyone a nickel back in January for Mac and Maggie being the last couple standing. But things changed.

  This morning Maggie had come down and said she was all packed and ready to go. “Except for the dog,” she’d added, with a glance in Mac’s direction.

  “Dog?” Mac had raised his eyebrows.

  “I want one as a wedding present.” Maggie had lifted her stubborn chin, and in her eyes Nell had seen one last challenge. “For when we go home, I want to know we’ve got someone to remind us of who we are here.”

  Hard-edged, hard-driving, take-no-prisoners Mac had been sitting at the kitchen table, cradling a mug of coffee in his hands and talking about cattle futures with Sam. But at Maggie’s words he’d cocked his head, then smiled a slow smile slowly lit his face. “Why not bring two?” he said.

  So scrappy Duke and dainty Daisy were going home with them this afternoon.

  Sam glanced at his watch and got to his feet, then hauled Jane up beside him. “You guys ready to go?” he asked.