by Jodi Thomas
Somehow, Tim O’Grady, the crazy writer in the family, had understood and been on his side. Tim might never stop talking when he visited, but he didn’t ask too many questions. Jax appreciated that. Healing was something he had to do on his own. Everyone called the day he was broken the accident. But it hadn’t been an accident.
Jax had been a fireman for almost twelve years. He would have made captain in a few more years. Only one night. One fire. He froze. Almost killing himself. Almost trapping his men.
The scars would fade. The burns would heal. The muscles in his legs would strengthen, but Jax had to rebuild from the inside.
Whether Jax thanked him or not, Tim kept coming. He’d usually stay long enough to sit on the porch and tell Jax all the news from town. When Tim noticed Jax no longer seemed to be working with wood, he brought out a laptop and set it up.
“What am I going to do with that?”
“I don’t know. Pay your bills. Watch porn. Email all those friends who keep sending letters you probably never open. Learn more about fires. What’s that old saying? Know your enemy.”
Jax glared at him as if Tim had taken one more step into insanity. But when his cousin left, he did look up the newest techniques in dealing with chemical fires. Maybe if he’d studied them more, the blast wouldn’t have surprised him. He wouldn’t have frozen.
On one of the sites, they mentioned fire science and Jax was hooked. He had to learn more even if he never put on the uniform again.
While still healing, he signed up for his first class online from the University of Florida. Only he didn’t mention it to anyone, not even Tim. Thanks to the internet, he could order books and turn in assignments. By the time his first year passed at the cabin, he was well on his way to a master’s degree without even stepping foot on the campus.
When Tim dropped by to read his latest young adult story about vampires invading high school locker rooms, Jax told him how good it was, which he guessed was really what Tim wanted to hear. He was a rich writer, after all. Rich enough to spend his spring and summers in New York and his winters in a little lake house near Crossroads, Texas.
Rich enough to have women chasing him, but somehow Tim O’Grady always seemed lonely. He must be. He had time to come out and visit his hermit of a cousin living on a tiny piece of land not even big enough to be on any map.
A week after moving in, alone in the silent cabin, Jax had tossed the painkillers in the fireplace. He’d take the pain and if he came out on the other side of it one day, he’d be stronger.
And slowly he did. Now going into his second winter at the cabin, he’d recovered, but still wasn’t ready to join the world.
As he watched the collie trying to stand, he said the same words he’d told himself a million times, “It hurts, doesn’t it, boy? But you can take it.”
Buddy tried again and again to put weight on the leg now in a splint.
“I know how you feel. Only I deserved my pain. You don’t.” He knelt and patted the dog. “I wish I knew who you belong to.” The report in Crossroads’s online paper had only mentioned the one-car-rollover that sent one person to the hospital. No word about how it happened or that a dog was involved.
Jax guessed whoever dropped the dog off had no idea he could have caused an accident. Or maybe the driver, who didn’t strap him into the car, had far more to worry about than the pup traveling with her. The gash behind Buddy’s ear was deep. If Jax hadn’t found him in the grass, the dog might have died in the dark that night.
“We’d best be turning in. You’re in no shape to run and if you stay out any later, the coyotes will make a snack out of you.” Jax picked up the dog and carried him into the cabin as winter’s first snowflakes whirled in the wind.
“I would take you to town to find a few answers about who did this to you, but a few of my relatives would probably have a heart attack if they saw me. My cousin Tim says most of them have decided I’m no more than a ghost living out here.”
The pup put his head atop Jax’s scarred hand.
“Wish you could tell me if you know the woman hurt in the crash. If she’s in the hospital, she must be in bad shape. The paper said her name was Mallory Mayweather. Never heard of anyone by that name around here.”
Buddy’s ears shot up at the mention of her name.
“You know her?”
The dog settled back down, no longer interested.
Jax leaned back, keeping his voice calm. “Smith. O’Grady. Kirkland. Wilson. Franklin. Jones.” Buddy’s eyes remained closed. Jax added one more name. “Mayweather.”
The dog’s ears raised again and he stared at Jax as if waiting for something.
“You know her.” He was no longer asking a question. He knew the answer.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Crossroads
SUNLAN KROWN KNEW she could have driven home in a few hours but she wasn’t ready to face her father. Not today. Not tomorrow. Not ever, if she had her way. She needed time to settle into the lie.
Besides, the Franklin sisters had been her security blanket since she was in her late teens. No one from her world in central Texas knew of them or that their little inn was her stopover place when she’d driven home from college.
Even now, when she made the journey from her quiet life on Misty Bend near Denver to her father’s spread, she’d stopped at their bed-and-breakfast almost every trip. The sisters had taken her in as if she were their kin, and the time at their inn was always relaxing.
The small Colorado ranch, Misty Bend, had been her mother’s home growing up but she’d hated the isolation.
Sunlan, on the other hand, had loved every visit. She’d even gone to college near there so she could spend her weekends learning all about horse breeding from her grandfather. The year she graduated, he’d died, and the ranch went not to his only daughter but to Sunlan.
On her nights in Crossroads, Sunlan and the Franklin sisters would sit up late into the night and talk in what-ifs. Now and then, one of the what-if’s would be a real problem she was working her way through.
Rose and Daisy would settle down by the fireplace with their knitting and figure out every possible solution to Sunlan’s problem. For the sisters, it was just a game the three of them played. For Sunlan, they were the only sounding board she could trust.
Two weeks ago, the what-if was about how she might marry fast. She’d thought they’d seen the discussion as just a game until two days ago, when they called saying they had the solution to her what-if. The perfect man, if Sunlan wanted him.
She’d jumped. Within hours, she’d hired a private detective out of Denver to do a background check, had a hacker look into all Holloway accounts over the past fifty years and then she’d driven to Crossroads and got the final details from the sisters.
“Griffin has been known to cuss,” Rose admitted. “But he took care of first his mother and later his father. By the time most men were living the carefree single life, Griffin had taken over running a huge ranch.” He might be only thirty-four, but the load he carried seemed to drive him into middle age.
Sunlan silently put the rest of the pieces together. He’d never committed a crime, never been sued, never lied to anyone on record or even signed up for online dating. The women he’d dated said he’d been honest and kind but never passionate. No sparks. They all claimed that at no point did he seem to be falling in love. Not a romantic bone in his body.
They listed his faults as being predictable, boring and often preoccupied with his work. All pluses in Sunlan’s mind, not negatives. She didn’t need the man, she only needed his name and his cooperation in playing husband when necessary. Other than that, she planned to live her life and expected him to live his.
By the time she walked into Dorothy’s Café to meet him, she knew he was just the man she was looking for. Griffin Holloway was her way out of chaos. The one way, maybe the only
way, to escape her father’s meddling.
If she told her father the truth about her pregnancy, he’d blame her and chalk it up as just one more time she’d let him down. She might be his only child, but she was a woman, and to Winston Krown, that meant one strike against her from birth. It was always the woman’s fault when things went wrong. They were conniving manipulative creatures and Sunlan was no exception. All three of his wives had been, including Sunlan’s mother. And now that he was planning to run for public office, he swore he’d disown her if she gave the press any dirt on his family.
Since his family consisted of her, there was no doubt who he was preaching to. The baby coming a few months early might be mentioned, but it wouldn’t make the news.
After all, she married a rancher with a good name? Someone born on open land who could talk to her father about the problems ranchers faced? Someone whose ancestors had been in Texas as long as her people had? Someone who would take Winston’s bothersome daughter off his hands so he wouldn’t have to worry about what nutty thing she’d do next?
Then, if she gave birth to a grandson, who might be worthy of inheriting the Krown Ranch? Maybe her father would calm down. He could run for office, go all the way to Washington if he liked and forget about his daughter.
She’d be free of his bullying. Then she could live her own life in peace.
Sunlan might lie to her father about the reason for the marriage, but not to Holloway. He’d been honest with her about needing money and she’d been honest with him about the pregnancy. She might not have told him all the details of her life, but she’d made a fair bargain. She’d given him exactly what he wanted and he’d agreed to her terms.
She’d checked him out. He was a strong man. An honest man. A rancher who, by all accounts, loved his land. If he lived up to their agreement, if he’d be a good role model to her child, she’d see that his ranch prospered.
If he held true? No man in her life had ever done that. Not even her father.
She needed someone to stand with her. Someone who’d never ask questions. From this day forward, her baby’s father was Griffin Holloway.
Two months ago, in the doctor’s office, she’d finally grown up when the doctor asked the name of the father. Sunlan didn’t know what to say. She felt totally alone. If her father found out, he would find a way to keep her off her own ranch in Colorado and away from everything she loved there. He’d make her pay for embarrassing him. Lately, he was too busy to meddle in her life, but if he lost his dream, he’d make sure her life was a nightmare.
That moment when the doctor handed her prenatal vitamins, she realized she was the problem, not the baby she carried.
She stopped feeling sorry for herself and began to think of a way out of her trouble. Getting rid of the baby was not even on the list.
It took her six weeks but finally, she had her answer. She grinned as that answer walked up the path and opened the Franklins’ bed-and-breakfast sunroom door to have breakfast with her.
Griffin looked out of place. From the way he was dressed, she’d guess he’d already been up and working outside in the cold for hours before he came to town to have breakfast.
Sunlan smiled. The cowboy didn’t fit in the frilly Victorian room the sisters always overdecorated for every holiday. Before he saw her watching, he thumped the stuffed bear dressed up like a pilgrim for the first Thanksgiving, sending him rolling off the corner table.
Sunlan laughed.
Griffin looked up, caught. “I hate cute decorations. Hell, I hate decorations period. A couple of weeks ago, they had Peanuts characters dressed up like trick-or-treaters.”
“I could have guessed how you felt. Any other faults?”
He removed his hat and looked nervous. “Yeah, I cuss. Nothing bad. My mom washed most of the profanity out before I was six, but hells and damns tend to pepper my words on a regular basis.” Looking around, he changed the subject. “Am I too early or too late?”
“Neither, Mr. Holloway, you’re right on time. The sisters had to leave, so we’re alone. I asked them to set our breakfast in the kitchen. I thought it might be warmer there.”
He nodded and pulled off his gloves and hat as he followed her through to the kitchen. She didn’t miss the chaps and spurs he also wore, along with a worn leather jacket.
“You working today?”
“I’ve been up since five.” He plowed his fingers through sand-colored hair. “We’ve got a quarter mile of fence down and half a dozen cattle who think they should walk toward town on the road. Snow’s coming in so it needed to be taken care of.”
“Do you have time for breakfast?”
“Breakfast? I thought it was nearer lunch.” When she laughed, he added, “I could use a break. Any meal sounds great.”
He stood until she was seated. Polite, she thought.
A silence washed between them while she filled his coffee. As she nibbled on her homemade cinnamon-raisin toast, he cleaned his plate.
“You always so hungry, Mr. Holloway?”
“Call me Griffin,” he finally said. “Or Griff, if you like. That’s what my brothers call me. And yes, I guess I am hungry. Usually happens three times a day. Does that bother you?” He looked at her, as if fearing she had some kind of food issue.
Laughing, she shook her head. “No.”
She laid down her fork and looked directly at him. “Tell me straight out what you’re thinking, Griffin. Right now. This minute.”
Wintergreen eyes met hers. “I’m thinking you’re far too beautiful, too classy, probably too educated for the likes of me. I looked up an article in the Fort Worth Star Telegram. Your family comes from royalty in Europe. Mine came over on the coffin ships during the potato famine. Most of my Irish-English ancestors didn’t own enough to fill one suitcase when they arrived. I’m thinking before we start this, you have a right to know I’m nothing special. I need the money and I wouldn’t mind being married, but I don’t want to talk you into anything you might regret.”
“You finished?”
“Yep.”
“You want to back out of our marriage, Mr. Holloway?”
“Nope.”
“Me neither.” She fought down a laugh. He’d just confirmed her belief in him. “I’ve already started planning the wedding. But I have questions.” She picked up a notebook. “Will you wear a wedding band?”
“I will. Plain gold suits me fine. Will you?”
She made a note. “I will. Plain gold works for me also. I’ll order them online. Preacher or judge to do the ceremony?”
“Either is fine but my folks would probably have wanted me to have a preacher.”
“Anything you’d like besides the basic ceremony?”
“No.”
“Any preference on kind of cake or colors or flowers?” She didn’t miss his blank look, like he’d never given a moment’s thought to such things.
He grinned suddenly, as if he’d found an answer rolling around in his head. “Just promise me no cute cartoon characters on top of the cake.”
“I promise, but it may not be easy with the sisters helping. They’re exploding with ideas.”
“I’m sure your choices will be sound. Just as long as you show up, I’ll be there.”
She smiled, knowing he’d just answered most of her questions.
At the end of her list, she looked up. “Griffin, do you have anything you’d like to add? Now is the time if you’ve been worried about our agreement. I want it to be a fair bargain.” She wanted to know they both understood the rules.
He frowned. “I do have one request, but it’s not a deal breaker. If you object, it wouldn’t affect anything we’ve already agreed on.”
“What?” Patience was not part of her nature.
“I’d like to have a real wedding night. If this is going to be a real marriage, I want to make it rea
l. One night. Whether we sleep together or not won’t change the fact that baby you’re carrying is mine. Understand?”
“I’ll take your request into consideration.”
“Fair enough.”
He stood and moved a few feet away as if he didn’t want to invade her space. “I’ll pick you up at five for dinner tonight at the ranch.”
“No,” she said, too fast. “I’ll drive out. I know the way and there’s no reason for you to come get me. I’m not a woman who will need taking care of, Griffin. I’ll never allow you to boss, manipulate or threaten me in any way.”
“Understood.” He picked up his gloves. “Oh, and one other thing. I told my brothers I remembered a friend I’d seen a few times in Dallas and invited her to come up for a visit. We’ll tell them tonight that you’re pregnant and I’m going to do the right thing.”
“You think they’ll believe us? You mentioning needing a wife and less than a few weeks later, I show up?”
Griffin shrugged. “They’re not deep thinkers. My guess is they’ll just think I got a lucky break.”
“You think we can pull off acting like we care about each other?”
He picked up his hat. “I think we can. Trust me, Sunlan, if you just smile at me now and then, we can pull this whole wedding off. Folks around here will be happy for us.”
Fighting back tears, she moved closer and whispered, “I’ll try my best. You’re my only solution. There is no plan B.”
Griffin leaned over and kissed her cheek. “Don’t worry about it. I got a feeling this plan will work.”
He disappeared into the sunroom. A few moments later, she heard the door open. Before it closed she caught the blink of a bear, dressed as a pilgrim, flying across the sunlight from the windows.
Sunlan held a laugh just until the sunroom door closed. Then she dropped back into the kitchen chair and decided Holloway might not be polished, but he’d certainly be worth knowing. Suddenly, she realized this crazy plot she’d proposed just might save her. Griffin would add so much that had been missing in her life, not the least of which would be humor.
