The Horseman's Convenient Wife

by Mindy Neff

  Eden smiled at Ozzie Peyton. With a full head of gray hair and eyes so blue they made a woman want to stare, Ozzie looked a good ten years younger than his seventy-something Stony had told her he was.

  ‘‘Wait till you see the array of food Eden brought,’’ Iris Brewer said. Iris’s husband, Lloyd, who owned and operated Brewer’s Saloon in town, was one of the four cronies as the town affectionately called them. ‘‘She’ll be stiff competition for blue ribbons come time for the fair. I might even have to hire her to spruce up the menu at Brewer’s.’’

  ‘‘Now, Iris,’’ Ozzie said. ‘‘Your menu is just fine the way it is. You bet. Besides, Eden here’s gonna have her hands full seeing to Stony and little Nikki. You bet.’’ He shook his head. ‘‘Craziest thing about Carlotta up and leaving the way she done.’’

  ‘‘Mmm,’’ Eden murmured noncommittally.

  ‘‘Her and Ray were about due for a vacation, though. Told them so myself.’’

  Eden’s gaze whipped up to Ozzie’s, and she felt her cheeks fill with heat.

  Ozzie Peyton knew why she was here. Did his buddies know, too?

  She looked quickly around. How many others knew? Oh, she’d known these people would find out sooner or later, small towns were notorious for their wildfire grapevine. She’d just hoped it would be later rather than sooner, that she’d have a chance to settle in, get to know them, try her best not to give the wrong impression.

  Ozzie laid a hand on her shoulder, waited until Iris had moved farther down the table to arrange the desserts.

  ‘‘Being the mayor and all, I’m pretty much up on everybody’s comings and goings. But I got a strict rule about confidentiality.’’ He drew out each syllable of the word. ‘‘You understand what I’m sayin’ here?’’

  Eden felt a lump form in her throat and nodded.

  ‘‘It’ll be just fine, missy. You bet.’’ He glanced around.

  ‘‘And here comes old Stony now.’’ Where a minute ago his voice was barely above a whisper, now it boomed. ‘‘Probably comin’ to see how come I got my paws on his girl—uh, I mean, new housekeeper.’’

  Having delivered his accidentally on-purpose slip, Ozzie clapped Stony on the shoulder and eased away. ‘‘The ladies could probably use a hand settin’ up the rest of these tables. You boys ought to get over here and help. I’ll just go herd Wyatt and Ethan this way.’’

  Ozzie hurried off, but Stony didn’t take his eyes off Eden. ‘‘You okay?’’

  ‘‘Yes, I’m fine. Why?’’ Her heart was pounding and she still hadn’t truly settled on how she felt about the conversation she’d just had with Ozzie—or learning that Aunt Lottie had also had a conversation with him.

  He took the pie out of her hands and set it on the table. ‘‘You’ve been going nonstop since we got here, and you’re tired.’’

  ‘‘I’m fine,’’ she repeated.

  He lightly touched her cheekbone, a butterfly caress that was gone before she could appreciate it. ‘‘It’s not nice to fib. Especially this close to the church. Why don’t you go take it easy for a while.’’

  ‘‘For goodness’ sake, I’m—’’

  He pressed his finger over her lips. In that instant, time seemed to stand still. She gazed into his whiskey-colored eyes, felt as though he was looking clear into her soul. She wished she could read him half as well as he seemed to read her.

  Her heartbeat sped up, and her hands trembled. Yes, she was tired, but she was also energized by Stony’s gentle touch, his probing, sensual look. Energized and filled with hope.

  He was attracted to her.

  Although, clearly, for some reason he didn’t want to be.

  Nearby, a sparkler glittered to life, and a child shrieked in glee, breaking the spell that seemed to have woven itself around them.

  Stony dropped his hand, stepped back. ‘‘Iris, you women go sit down under the shade tree and enjoy the afternoon. I’ll take care of the tables, here.’’

  ‘‘Why thank you, Stony.’’ Iris wiped her hands on a napkin and came around the long table to link arms with Eden. ‘‘You don’t have to ask me twice. I see Ozzie’s shooed Wyatt and Ethan this way, so we’ll just leave you to it. Come on, Eden. Let’s make a run for it before they change their minds.’’

  Stony already had his back turned and was lifting dishes out of the ice chest, making Eden wonder if she’d imagined that odd, charged moment between them.

  ‘‘You’ve met Wyatt and Hannah Malone, haven’t you?’’ Iris asked.

  ‘‘Briefly, at church.’’

  ‘‘Well, let me just catch you up on the gossip. My husband, Lloyd—much to my chagrin more often than not—is in cahoots with Ozzie, Henry and Vern. Henry owns the feed store in town, and you met Vern and Vera Tillis at the general store, right?’’

  ‘‘Yes.’’

  ‘‘Anyway, the old coots cooked up a crazy idea and ran Wyatt’s picture in a magazine advertising for a mail-order bride. Problem is, Wyatt didn’t know about it.’’

  Eden grinned. ‘‘That must have been uncomfortable.’’

  ‘‘Yes, but I must say it was great fun. You see, Wyatt was married to my Becky, but we lost her and our grandson in an accident.’’

  ‘‘Oh, I am sorry.’’

  Iris patted Eden’s hand. ‘‘Thank you, dear. As it turns out, I’ve gained an honorary daughter in Hannah, and grandchildren, as well, with Hannah’s little Ian and the baby to come.’’

  ‘‘Stony’s talked about Ian. I’m told his Nikki is promised to Ian in about eighteen years time.’’

  Iris laughed. ‘‘Wouldn’t that be something. Then again, Dora and Ethan Callahan’s little cherub might give Nikki a run for her money. Katie’s just a bit over a year, but by the time they get grown, that won’t be such a span.’’

  ‘‘Sounds like Ian’s going to be a busy young man if a few more little boys don’t show up to take the pressure off.’’

  ‘‘How right you are.’’ Iris laughed gaily again. ‘‘If my husband and Ozzie Peyton have their way, there will be. It’s a goal of theirs, you see, to bring women and babies to our town.’’

  Eden felt a jolt of longing, felt the familiar squeezing of her heart.

  To distract herself she asked, ‘‘So what other shenanigans have they pulled?’’Besides helping Aunt Lottie concoct a scheme and dragging Eden right into it.

  ‘‘They had a bachelor auction. With our town playboy as their target.’’

  ‘‘Ethan Callahan?’’ Nikki had imparted that little tidbit yesterday. Eden had been surprised to hear a five-year-old describing her uncle that way.

  ‘‘One and the same. I tell you what, that boy didn’t know what hit him when the preacher’s daughter showed up and presented him with a baby.’’

  ‘‘Yikes. He got a preacher’s daughter pregnant?’’

  ‘‘No. It was Dora’s best friend—who died tragically, I’m afraid. You’ll have to get Dora to tell you all about it sometime. She’s a spitfire, that one. And just perfect for Ethan.’’

  ‘‘This bachelor auction…were all the guys in town involved?’’

  ‘‘You mean was Stony there?’’

  ‘‘Not that it makes a difference,’’ she said quickly. ‘‘I’m just his housekeeper and Nikki’s nanny. ’’So far.

  Iris gave her a soft, chiding smile and shook her head. ‘‘I still don’t quite know how he slipped out on that one. We blinked, and next thing we knew, he’d skipped out of town with Grant and Clay Callahan.’’

  For some reason Eden was glad he hadn’t gone on a date with some woman who was looking for a husband.

  Iris patted Eden’s hand and unlinked their arms. ‘‘You rest here on this blanket, love.’’

  ‘‘Why does everyone keep telling me to rest? Do I look like the walking dead or something?’’ If there was one thing Eden hated, it was admitting to a weakness.

  ‘‘Of course you don’t. But you’ve made a long trip from Dallas and…’’ Her words falter
ed. ‘‘Naturally Lottie spoke of you and told us where you live,’’ she explained quickly.

  But Eden realized that Iris was another one Lottie had evidently confided in. Eden had told the other woman she’d driven from Texas. She hadn’t mentioned which town.

  This was awkward.

  She eased down on the blanket she’d spread earlier, picking at the burrs that clung to it. The grass beneath was soft and green, shaded from the July sun by a leafy cottonwood. A few feet away a creek bubbled over smooth rocks, the sound soothing, making her realize she was indeed a bit tired.

  To the right she could still see the white church with its steeple reaching toward the heavens. Here there was peace. Here a soul could heal. Surely that would make a difference.

  Carrying a plate laden with food, Stony eased down on the blanket beside her. Eden watched several of the single women following him with their eyes, giving him covert looks.

  And as astonishing as it seemed, Stony genuinely didn’t notice.

  ‘‘So, with all these new women showing up in town, have you, uh, thought about dating any of them?’’

  ‘‘Not interested.’’

  ‘‘You can’t tell me none of these women have approached you.’’

  ‘‘Don’t imagine they’re interested.’’

  ‘‘Are you kidding?’’

  He looked up, directly into her eyes. ‘‘No.’’

  How in the world could this man not realize the effect he had on the female population?

  His utter masculinity, combined with his quiet compassion, drew women like bees to pollen. Anyone with a set of eyes in their head could see it. Provided they were looking. Which Stony apparently wasn’t.

  She watched him tug at his hat, tip it lower on the right side. When she turned more fully to face him, he shifted, too. It was ever so subtle, but she noticed his self-conscious effort to hide his scar.

  The man actually believed he was ugly.

  She might have pursued the subject, but excited children’s voices interrupted.

  ‘‘Eden, come catch the tadpoles with us,’’ Nikki begged, skidding to a halt next to the blanket, little Ian Malone at her side. Both children’s faces were shiny with sweat.

  ‘‘Ah, fishing for tadpoles. My favorite sport.’’

  Stony nearly swallowed his tongue when she stood and hooked her thumbs in the waistband of her flowing, crinkly skirt. Before he could form a thought or an objection—or even an encouragement—she’d peeled the skirt down her hips and stepped out of it.

  Thankfully, she wore a pair of beige shorts beneath.

  He noticed a couple of the other men were watching the impromptu striptease, and he scowled at them.

  ‘‘Make you nervous?’’ she asked, looking down at him with a devilish sparkle in her eyes.

  He couldn’t figure out if she was teasing him or genuinely flirting with him. Odd that he could normally read the expressions and body language of most people, yet with Eden he had trouble.

  ‘‘Me and about five other men here. Including the preacher.’’

  Her gaze whipped up. Now this expression he could read. Horror. Embarrassment.

  He started to grin, felt his scar pull and settled on a half smile. ‘‘It’s what you get.’’

  Her brow arched. ‘‘One of these days I’m going to get the whole smile out of you instead of just half.’’ She kicked off her sandals and took Nikki’s hand, allowing the child to pull her toward the creek.

  ‘‘Are we going to fry up these tadpoles in the skillet, or bake them stuffed with mushrooms and a pinch of tarragon?’’ he heard her ask. Nikki’s delighted laugh floated back.

  And Stony told himself he was not going to consider any sensual possibilities with regard to Eden Williams, no matter how much that magnolia-blossom drawl got to him.

  She was beautiful.

  And she was temporary.

  Suddenly bored with his own company, he went to join the circle of men who’d congregated by the food tables. Like vultures waiting to pounce, the curiosity on his friends’ faces was blatant.

  His gut tightened and he shot them a scowl that had them backing off, not putting voice to their questions and taunts. He’d been friends with these guys since they were young boys. They knew when it was prudent to remain silent, and most of the time they actually respected those boundaries.

  When dusk turned to dark, the men gathered in a cleared section of land and argued over the fairest way to decide which one of them got to be the pyromaniac who lit the fuses. They went through this every year, and Stony was happy to step aside and leave them to it.

  Fire still gave him uncomfortable shivers of flashbacks. Nikki, too, was apprehensive, but too young to understand why.

  He knew it was important to get to her before the real light show of sparks began.

  He found her on the blanket sitting between Eden’s knees, her back resting against Eden’s chest. The sight momentarily halted his progress.

  Nikki had never known a mother—or remembered, at least. She had plenty of honorary grandmothers, but sometimes he wondered if the day would come when she truly ached for more. More than he could provide.

  The sight of Eden with his daughter touched him, made his yearning mind create scenarios he had no business dwelling on.

  He eased down on the blanket beside them. ‘‘Finished entertaining with your guitar?’’ He’d seen her earlier with an avid audience, catering mainly to the children, doing her best to keep them laughing. And she’d done a fine job.

  He hadn’t trusted himself to join in.

  ‘‘We singed about the beer, Daddy, and forgot the milk.’’

  ‘‘It was a slip,’’ Eden defended.

  ‘‘Mmm, hmm,’’ he murmured.

  ‘‘And then we did the ants and the fishies.’’ The first burst of fire popped high in the sky, and Nikki flinched.

  ‘‘Oh, doll baby, did that catch you off guard?’’ Eden smoothed a hand over Nikki’s forehead, pushing sweaty bangs back with each sweep. She felt the child snuggle closer and automatically tightened her hold, offering security. ‘‘Isn’t it pretty?’’

  Another vivid ball of color burst in the sky, showering a kaleidoscope of mesmerizing embers that fell like the sweeping branches of a weeping willow.

  Nikki nodded and held out her hand for Stony. When he took the little girl’s palm in his, there was no way to avoid having the back of his arm and hand resting on Eden’s thigh.

  She tried to be nonchalant about it but wondered if he could hear the gallop of her heart. It pulsed loudly in her own ears. She tried to tell herself to calm down, to remind herself that she always went all soft and mushy when she saw those calendars with pictures of men and children on them. This was the same thing. Anyone would be touched by the sight of Nikki’s tiny hand resting in Stony’s wide palm.

  Despite the noise and show, Nikki fell asleep against Eden’s chest.

  ‘‘Why don’t we lay her down,’’ Stony suggested and helped her shift and lower the child to the blanket. Her apple-shaped cheeks and sweet lips had remnants of mustard and chocolate on them. She’d played hard today and now would sleep hard.

  Eden turned her head at the same time Stony did. Their shoulders touched and she went still, raising her gaze to his. A thrill shot through her at the intensity of his gaze, the way his eyes shifted from hers to her mouth, then back.

  Hardly aware of the movement, Eden leaned closer. She could feel the warmth of his breath on her lips and wanted in the worst way to have him make that final, critical move, to know what his kiss would feel like.

  ‘‘We’re missing the show.’’ His voice was deep and spellbinding, tense with control.

  ‘‘Are we? I hadn’t noticed.’’ Reluctance radiated from him so strongly she imagined she could touch it, yet she could see the burning desire in his whiskey-brown eyes. She didn’t understand the contrast, the hesitation.

  She wanted to scream when he drew back.

  ‘‘This
isn’t a good idea,’’ he said quietly. ‘‘People will talk.’’

  She nodded even as her gaze clung. She imagined people would be talking, anyway. It was just a matter of time.

  WHEN EDEN ANSWERED THE PHONE the next morning, the caller didn’t even identify herself.

  ‘‘Well?’’

  ‘‘Hello, Aunt Lottie. Are you taking good care of my plants?’’ Eden pictured Lottie and Ray in her modest three-bedroom home just outside of Dallas, with its killer kitchen and fabulous yard. She loved that home, the quiet, tree-shaded street, the expansive lawns and raised porches where neighbors often stopped by for coffee and muffins or whatever Eden had fresh from the oven.

  Purchasing that house had been a measure of her business success, a sign that Garden of Eden Catering was flourishing after years of hard work and sacrifice.

  ‘‘Your plants are thriving and wonderful. Although I must say, I don’t understand some of the art on the walls, dear.’’

  Eden smiled. ‘‘It’s music memorabilia, Aunt Lottie.’’ From Marilyn Monroe to the Beatles to the Dixie Chicks, she collected classy prints of famous and not-so-famous musicians. She imagined, though, that her aunt was referring to a couple of the wilder posters where the band members looked more like Halloween characters than entertainers.

  ‘‘Yes, well, despite that grim-faced bunch hanging over the sofa in the den, you have a beautiful home. I know your parents must be so proud of your success.’’

  ‘‘You haven’t told Mother, have you?’’ As much as Eden loved her parents, they had a tendency to meddle in her life, and still thought after thirty-four years that they knew what was best for her. If Beverley Williams found out the risk Eden was taking, she’d be on her like ducks on a june bug.

  ‘‘No, hon, I haven’t. Your mom’s my best friend, but I know what she’s like—though she’s truly well-meaning, you know.’’

  ‘‘I know. I hate all this deceit, Aunt Lottie. It’s not me. I’ve never lied in my life—well, maybe once or twice as a kid, but—’’

  ‘‘Have you actually lied, hon?’’

  ‘‘By omission.’’

  ‘‘Your parents will understand once they realize the urgency.’’