The Cowboy and the Bride

by Thomas, Marin

  How wonderful that the child could feel her mother’s love surround her as she drifted off to sleep each night. A pang of jealousy pricked Madeline. How many nights had she lain awake when she was a little girl, aching for her mother? Yearning to know what a mother’s love felt like.

  Sighing, she checked out the guest room next to Annie’s. It contained a single bed, a plain dresser and an oval rag rug. It didn’t feel welcoming at all.

  The bathroom was small but quaint. A beautiful pedestal sink and claw-foot tub filled most of the room. On a wooden shelf above the tub sat a stack of towels and a jumbo package of toilet paper. Just like a man to put the toilet paper right out in the open instead of hiding it in a cupboard. On the far wall an oval window faced the ranch yard. For a moment she watched Jake go in and out of the barn, carrying various pieces of equipment.

  She shouldn’t snoop, but the truth was, Jake Montgomery intrigued her. She told herself it was because he was so different from the polished, sophisticated men she worked side by side with day in and day out. But deep down she admitted that there was something about the cowboy that called to her in a way no other man ever had.

  She left the bathroom and stood outside his bedroom several long seconds before she turned the knob and swung the door open. A massive king-size sleigh bed dominated the room. She spotted a small step stool shoved under the bed by the headboard and wondered how tiny Jake’s wife had been.

  A navy comforter hung half on and half off the mattress, covered by plain beige sheets. Each step closer revealed something more about the man who slept there. She stopped next to the feather pillow that still bore the imprint of his head and felt a twinge near her heart when she noticed the other perfectly plumped pillow. His scent surrounded her—a combination of sleepy male and faded aftershave.

  Her eyes widened in shock when she caught sight of the framed picture of Annie and her mother on the night-stand. The woman was plain. Not ugly. Not pretty. Just plain. She thought of what a cute little girl Annie was and realized, that except for their coloring, the mother and daughter barely resembled each other.

  Madeline lifted the frame and examined the picture. The camera had captured Sara Montgomery’s maternal smile but also a deep, aching sadness in her eyes. She presumed a man as sexy, handsome and earthy as Jake could have had his pick of women. Yet he’d ended up with a plain Jane. So what had Sara had that no other woman could compete with?

  Love, maybe? Could it have been as simple as that? Sara had loved Jake. Jake had loved Sara.

  A streak of envy took Madeline by surprise. During her all-night flight through the Nevada desert, she’d had a lot of time to think about her relationship with Jonathon. She’d led a fairly sheltered life and he’d been her first serious boyfriend…well, okay, her first boyfriend, period. She admired him. Respected him. But if she was honest with herself, she wasn’t sure she loved him. Or he loved her.

  But her father had insisted a “smart match” was far better in the long run than a “love match,” which he had claimed would inevitably lead to disappointment, hurt and pain. Her and Jonathon’s marriage would have been one of compatibility. At least to start with.

  Even if they hadn’t confessed undying love to each other, his leaving her at the altar was a dirty rotten thing to do and she wasn’t about to forgive him any time soon. If he had second thoughts, then why had he insisted on changing the wedding plans and running off to Vegas? But the answers to those questions would have to wait. Until she returned home. And right now home was the last place she wanted to go.

  She set the picture down exactly where it had been, careful not to disturb the dust around it. Turning away, she moved to the bookcase built into the opposite wall. The shelves held several books and magazines on interior design, homemaking and cooking. Annie’s mother had been very domestic, probably the perfect wife for a rancher or horse trainer or whatever Jake Montgomery considered himself. She went to the large picture window overlooking the front of the house. She wasn’t sure what to make of the view. Depending on the person, the vast miles of land might feel liberating or confining.

  She left the room unsure why her heart suddenly felt so heavy. Jake’s life was none of her business. He’d made it clear that the sooner she left the better.

  She returned to the bathroom and found a washcloth to freshen up with. Then she painstakingly began the process of locating and extracting all the hairpins that held her hair up and that had secured the veil to her head.

  Fifteen minutes later, her long hair hung in snarled clumps around her shoulders. Swallowing a groan, she massaged her sore scalp. She opened the medicine cabinet and found a pink-handled hairbrush. Annie’s brush. She worked the worst of the knots and the sticky hair spray out.

  Bang.

  Madeline jumped at the sound of a door slamming. She hoped it hadn’t woken Annie from her nap. Sucking in a deep breath, she hurried downstairs taking in every detail of the house, knowing she’d never step foot in it again. In comparison to the warm, welcoming feel of Jake’s home, her former upscale, trendy apartment had been sterile and cold.

  She froze in the hallway outside the kitchen. Jake stood in the back doorway, clutching one of her satin pumps. The size-eight shoe appeared tiny in his large, tanned hand. Her breath hitched when he ran one long finger down the length of the satin-covered heel.

  She must have made a noise, because his gaze caught and held hers across the room. His penetrating blue eyes sent a shiver up her legs, across her stomach and straight to her heart.

  Madeline prayed that the ornery cowboy couldn’t see how his blue-eyed stare made her insides go all gushy. “What?” she croaked.

  “Your hair.” His husky voice floated across the room.

  She patted the messy strands. She knew she resembled a porn queen more than a fairy-tale bride. “The veil was getting itchy.”

  “Where’s Annie?”

  “Sleeping in front of the TV.” If he would just put her darn shoe down and look away for a moment she might be able to catch her breath.

  “I found an extra canister of gas in the shed.”

  Her throat thickened with emotion. Probably from exhaustion. And if that wasn’t enough to make a girl emotional, then being left at the altar, running out of gas on the way to nowhere and having to parade around in half a wedding dress and men’s clothing would do the job. She dredged up a smile. “Thank you.”

  “I’ll get Annie.” He bent down and picked up her other shoe, then handed her the pair as he slipped past her into the living room.

  She sat at the kitchen table and wiggled her swollen feet into the disgustingly filthy pumps.

  “Please, Daddy, don’t make her go away.” The child’s sleep-drugged voice floated through the doorway into the kitchen.

  “Annie, she has to go.”

  “She can watch me till Ms. Catherine gets back.”

  When Jake didn’t answer his daughter right away, Madeline’s thoughts wandered. Why hadn’t it occurred to her earlier that taking care of Annie was the answer to her dilemma? With nowhere to go, no job to report to, nothing to do but feel sorry for herself, the ranch was a perfect spot to catch her breath and pull herself together before returning to Seattle.

  She wasn’t expected back at work until the end of the month. By then, she’d be ready to face her friends, coworkers and her father. And maybe by then she wouldn’t still want to kill her fiancé.

  She’d never baby-sat a day in her life, but watching over a child like Annie couldn’t be too difficult. She’d simply do the exact opposite of what her nannies had done when she’d been a little girl. In other words, she and Annie would have fun.

  The housekeeping part might be a problem. She didn’t know the first thing about picking up after a little girl and a rough-and-tumble cowboy. Her father had always employed a maid, and when she’d moved into her own apartment, the first thing she’d done was hire a cleaning service. As for cooking, well, she wasn’t much help there, either. But she did kn
ow how to use a microwave. She certainly wouldn’t let Annie starve.

  Before she allowed herself to consider the reasons she shouldn’t stay, she rushed into the living room. Jake sat on the edge of the big leather chair, with Annie in his lap. Madeline took a deep breath and blurted, “I’d be glad to stay and watch Annie.”

  Jake’s eyes bulged.

  Annie crawled down from her father’s lap and jumped up and down in front of him. “Can she, Daddy? Can she?”

  Madeline pressed her hands to her quivering stomach. “I’m at loose ends right now. I’d be happy to stay until you found a permanent replacement.”

  His blue eyes narrowed. Maybe this was a bad idea. She knew nothing about Jake Montgomery other than his wife was dead, he had a daughter and he trained horses. Considering her groom had just dumped her at the altar, she might not be the best judge of character. But deep in her heart she believed Jake Montgomery was not a fiend or criminal.

  Annie tugged her father’s pant leg as he stood.

  “What about the groom? Won’t he come looking for you?”

  She remembered the crumpled note in the front seat of the rental car, and silently cursed her ex-fiancé. The coward had sent a dozen roses to the chapel with a lame Sorry scrawled across the bottom. “I doubt it. If he does, you can send Cyclone after him.”

  His lips quirked, but he tamped down the smile a second later. “What do you know about kids?”

  She considered her own lonely childhood and winked at Annie “Not a whole lot. Except that they’re always hungry and they always want attention.”

  He didn’t crack a smile and her stomach plummeted. He didn’t believe she was capable of caring for his daughter. And she could hardly blame him for assuming a childless career woman had little experience raising children.

  He shook his head. “I’m sorry, Annie. We need someone with more experience.” He grabbed her hand. “C’mon. Let’s get Ms. Tate back to her car so she can be on her way.” Annie yanked her hand from his hold and stomped out of the room. Well, that was that.

  She followed the two out to the truck, biting the inside of her cheek until pinpricks of pain shot through her mouth. Physical pain was easier to handle than the knot forming inside her chest, making it difficult to breathe.

  The trip back to the car took forever. When the vehicle came into view, she silently cursed the stupid thing for running out of gas and bringing Annie and the handsome, but grumpy, cowboy into her life. Madeline doubted she’d ever forget this day or these two people.

  Jake pulled onto the shoulder in front of the car. He put the truck in Park but kept the engine running, ensuring no long goodbyes. While he filled the car’s tank with gas, she hugged Annie, her throat tightening at the sight of the child’s quivering chin.

  Even though she’d only known the little girl a short while, she wished she could stay and help ease the child’s loneliness, which she sensed was caused by her mother’s death. Madeline kissed the sweaty little forehead, whispered a heartfelt goodbye, then grappled for the door handle and got out of the truck.

  Jake stored the empty gas can in the toolbox. “All set.”

  She smiled and tugged on the flannel shirt. “Any idea where I can buy a change of clothes?” She cringed, embarrassed by the hitch in her voice.

  He removed his shades and pointed down the road. “Turn around and head south. You’ll hit Ridge City in ten miles. There’s a mercantile on Main Street. They’ve got shorts, T-shirts.” His eyes narrowed on the front of the flannel shirt, then he glanced away and muttered, “Bras.”

  “I’ll leave your clothes with the manager—”

  “Whatever.” He stared at her with what could only be relief in his eyes.

  Stung, Madeline glanced away. “Thank you for all your help. I’m sorry I was such a bother.”

  “No problem.” He spun on his heel and hopped into the truck. She hadn’t even opened the driver’s-side door of the rental, when the pickup shot forward, spewing gravel. Aching for the stubborn cowboy to change his mind and come back to her, she watched as the vehicle became smaller and smaller, until it was a dot on the horizon.

  Who was she fooling? If she couldn’t manage a yellow-bellied scumbag like her ex-fiancé, what made her think she could handle a man like Jake Montgomery? She was in no shape emotionally to go head to head with someone that mulish. A woman had to be in top form to handle all that testosterone. She sighed. Wouldn’t it be fun to try, though?

  She opened the door and froze. No longer a dot on the horizon, the pickup was growing larger and larger by the second. She held her breath as the truck barreled toward her in reverse. Her heart doubled its rhythm and her pulse ricocheted off the walls of her veins.

  Don’t get your hopes up. He probably wants to insult you one more time.

  The tires squealed as the truck came to a stop next to her. The passenger-side window slid down. Annie wore a huge grin.

  Stepping closer, Madeline leaned through the window.

  Jake peered over the rim of his glasses. “Two days.”

  “Two days?”

  “I’d be much obliged if you’d watch Annie for two days while I pick up another load of horses.”

  Excitement surged through her. Madeline wondered why he’d changed his mind, then decided she didn’t care. She had two days with an adorable little girl and a sexy, hardheaded cowboy.

  What more could a jilted bride ask for?

  Chapter Three

  He’d made a mistake.

  So what? Jake was man enough to admit when he was wrong and do something about it. He’d asked the bride to stay two days. One day too long. As soon as he returned with the horses tonight he’d send her packing.

  He set the coffee mug on the counter and glared at the clock. Nine-thirty in the morning and the woman was still lazing in bed. Annie had woken up at seven, so he’d taken her to the barn with him while he’d looked in on the two horses he’d bought yesterday. Today he had to pick up another two stallions at the Lazy Ace Ranch three hours west of Ridge City and hoped to be back by supper.

  That is, if the bride got up any time soon.

  He rubbed the dull ache that had been banging against his skull since breakfast yesterday. Madeline Tate twisted his insides worse than the barbed-wire fence she’d gotten herself hung up on. She was a distraction of the worst kind. His washed-out jeans and flannel shirt hadn’t disguised the worldliness, education, class and money that surrounded her. She was beautiful and way out of his league. The kind of woman a simple cowboy didn’t have the vaguest idea what to do with.

  All he had to do was close his eyes and an image of the bride, in her ripped wedding gown, flashed through his mind. Why all of a sudden was conjuring up a likeness of his deceased wife so hard? Sara had been what some might call wholesome looking. She hadn’t used much makeup and had worn mostly loose-fitting dresses every day. He sure as hell had never seen his wife in a garter belt. He wondered how Madeline’s silky thighs would feel against his rough, weathered hands and how easy those little snaps were to undo.

  He shook his head. He had better things to think about than frilly underwear. As he stared out the window at the corrals, his gut tightened. Training eight horses by the end of August would be difficult even if he had extra help. What made him think he could do it on his own?

  Money.

  He chuckled. He needed money a hell of a lot more than he needed that red-haired minx with a broken heart sleeping in the upstairs guest room. When it came right down to it, he didn’t know a damn thing about her except that she’d been left in a Vegas wedding chapel. He wasn’t such a tough guy that he couldn’t feel a little sympathy for her. Strangely enough, she hadn’t boohooed and carried on as he would have expected a jilted bride to do.

  The woman intrigued him, but the idea of her staying at the ranch made him nervous. It wasn’t every day a man ran into a female, a gorgeous, stunning female, who seemed oblivious to her beauty and its effect on men.

  Earlier
he’d notified the sheriff’s department that Madeline would be keeping an eye on Annie Jane. Then he’d called the Winstons down the road and told Gladys he’d be gone for the day. She agreed to check up on the two. Not that he didn’t trust the bride. He didn’t trust himself. The more people who knew she was staying at his place, the harder starting something with her would be.

  He dumped his cold coffee into the sink and fixed a second pot. He needed the caffeine. He hadn’t slept more than an hour straight last night. He’d dreamed of the bride tossing a lasso over his shoulders and dragging him to the altar. When he’d turned to kiss her, he’d seen his dead wife’s face. If that didn’t do a job on a man’s psyche nothing would.

  Sara. She’d been a good mother, a loving mother. These days he felt mostly sad for Annie and regret that he couldn’t be everything his daughter deserved.

  He thought of what he deserved, and the bride’s face popped back into his mind. Even before his marriage to Sara he’d never felt this turned on by a woman. This constant flow of sexual energy buzzing through his body when he looked at Madeline Tate was enough to wear down a man’s common sense. He wondered what it would take to coax the princess bride to go to bed with him.

  He shook his head in disgust. How could one measly female make a man feel like a thirteen-year-old with his first hard-on? Okay, so the bride wasn’t measly. Still, he resented that he couldn’t control his body’s reaction to her.

  The lady was trouble with a capital T. As soon as she hauled her pretty butt out of bed, he’d tell her he’d changed his mind and she had to leave.

  Sending her packing wasn’t just for his sake. Already, after only a day, Annie was getting too attached to her. Maybe his daughter wouldn’t be so lonely if he spent more time with her. Guilt knotted his insides. Come the end of August, he’d make sure Annie was his top priority. A shuffling sound from the doorway told him he wasn’t alone anymore. He sensed it wasn’t Annie, because she didn’t shuffle. She sprinted everywhere.