The Horseman's Convenient Wife

by Mindy Neff

  And Eden was glad. She needed, desperately, to find out this child’s true feelings.

  ‘‘We thought it would be smart because I’m living in the house with you and your daddy, and…well, it’s not the proper thing for a single girl to do. It might look bad to folks.’’

  ‘‘But Daddy didn’t get married to Lottie.’’

  ‘‘She was already married to Ray.’’

  Nikki nodded and bounced up on her knees. ‘‘And you’re not, so you gotta get married so you can kiss and stuff.’’

  Out of the mouths of babes. In a single sentence the five-year-old had summed up the situation without batting an eye. ‘‘Uh, something like that.’’

  ‘‘Okay. Can I be a flower girl? I getted to do it two times already, with Hannah and Dora, and I’m real good at it.’’

  Eden smiled, not sure if she was relieved or annoyed at not having to go into a detailed explanation. This was the unworried, accepting attitude Stony had told her about.

  ‘‘Of course you can dress up and carry flowers. But this will be a little different. I imagine we’ll be at the courthouse rather than the church.’’

  ‘‘But there’s no aisle there.’’ Apparently this was cause for concern. Nikki looked scandalized, nearly pulling the ears off the stuffed rabbit she’d been about to send flying again.

  ‘‘We can set up some chairs so there will be.’’

  Nikki’s features relaxed, and so did her hold on the poor rabbit’s ears. ‘‘Are you gonna be my mommy then?’’

  Eden felt a swift squeeze in her heart. This was so delicate. The last thing in the world she wanted to do was hurt this darling child. She wished she’d pinned Stony down about Nikki’s parents, what had happened to them that had caused Stony to uphold his vow as the little girl’s godfather and adopt her. If she had some idea of Nikki’s mother, if Nikki remembered her…

  ‘‘You have a mommy,’’ she said carefully.

  ‘‘Yes, but she’s an angel now. And she watches me from Heaven. I have a picture. Do you want to see?’’

  Before Eden could respond, Nikki scrambled across the bed, grabbed a gold-framed photograph off her bedside table and bounced back.

  ‘‘See?’’

  ‘‘She’s beautiful.’’ And so young. As was the man with her in the photo, his laughing face turned toward the camera, his arms around the woman who was obviously the love of his life. Eden had noticed the picture, but had been too distracted to ask about it.

  Nikki had suffered a loss, even if she was too young to remember, and Eden didn’t want to add another to this child’s life.

  She would not, could not, go through with her plans at the expense of this child. She had to know how Nikki felt.

  ‘‘You know, if I had to leave someday, it wouldn’t be because I didn’t love you all to pieces.’’

  ‘‘I know. Daddy says I’m so cute everybody loves me to bits.’’

  The way she said it was so matter-of-fact. Not bratty or prissy or conceited. Just very sure of herself and her place in Stony’s household. In his life.

  ‘‘Where would you hafta go?’’

  ‘‘I have a house in Texas and a job where I cook all kinds of food for people’s parties and a very good friend who has two little children close to your age. Their names are Stephen and Crystal. Someday I would have to go home to them.’’

  Lord, how did you tell a child that you were planning the divorce before you’d even taken the walk down the aisle? And did Nikki even understand about divorce? Had she been old enough to feel the turmoil when Stony had gone through it?

  ‘‘Stephen and Crystal would be sad if you didn’t come home?’’ Nikki asked, her little face a study in compassion.

  ‘‘I think they would.’’

  ‘‘Do you have a mommy?’’

  ‘‘Yes. She’s a judge.’’

  ‘‘Like old Judge Lester in town? He wears black jammies to work. Does your mom wear her jammies to work?’’

  Eden grinned. ‘‘A robe, yes. Fun job, huh?’’

  ‘‘I think I’ll be a judge when I grow up.’’

  ‘‘It’s a very noble profession.’’

  ‘‘Is your daddy a judge?’’

  ‘‘No. He’s a chef at his own restaurant.’’

  Nikki giggled. ‘‘He cooks?’’

  ‘‘Yes. And very well, at that.’’

  ‘‘That’s how come you cook, huh?’’

  ‘‘Probably.’’

  ‘‘Okay.’’

  ‘‘Okay, what?’’ Eden asked.

  ‘‘It’s okay if you have to go back home sometime. But I can’t come, too, ’cuz I gotta stay here with Daddy or he would be sad.’’

  ‘‘Of course you do.’’ Eden swallowed hard. At times this little girl seemed far beyond her five years. Well adjusted, happy and secure. Because of Stony. ‘‘So we’ll be very good friends, you and I?’’

  ‘‘The best.’’

  ‘‘Then what do you say we take this outfit and run on down to my room. We’ll be girls and primp together.’’

  Nikki was off the bed in a flash, the abandoned rabbit landing with a thump on the pine floor beside the headboard.

  WHEN STONY CAME DOWNSTAIRS, several aromas hit him at once. Warm, yeasty bread, lemon furniture polish—and the scent of a woman fresh from a bath.

  The latter gave him a couple of touch-and-go moments where his body screamed for mastery over his mind.

  Since their marriage agreement yesterday, and Eden’s question about Paula, they’d pretty much been avoiding each other. He gave a mental shrug. In truth there wasn’t any reason to hang around together until it was time…

  He didn’t even want to get hung up on that line of thinking. It was difficult enough as it was to keep his mind on the horses and off the soul-stirring images of Eden in bed. With him. By this coming weekend.

  And the smell of steamy wildflowers emanating from her room off the kitchen wasn’t helping one bit.

  In fifteen years he couldn’t remember ever noticing Lottie or Ray’s bath perfumes. He was sure he’d never come into the kitchen and been surrounded by moist air shimmering with feminine scent, the kind of scent that made a man’s mouth water and his hormones jump to attention.

  He focused on the loaves of bread, muffins and little dessert things all decorated and wrapped in cellophane that lined the countertops. Eden had been busy.

  He took a closer look at the fancy sweets. Some looked like cookies and others like miniature cakes or tarts.

  She didn’t just bake a cake or pie like most. She fixed a whole bunch of different stuff. He hadn’t known he had such a variety of ingredients in his pantry. Maybe he should just taste one, he thought.

  ‘‘Daddy! Kiss my lips!’’

  His hand jerked back to his side, and he turned as Nikki came streaking out of Eden’s room, her cherry lips a little rosier and glossier than normal.

  Nikki leaped the last step, and he caught her up in his arms, dutifully pecking her pursed lips.

  ‘‘It’s strawberry, do you taste it?’’

  He licked his lips. ‘‘Mmm, hmm.’’

  ‘‘Eden put it on me. And she gots it on her lips, too. ’Cept hers is banana.’’ Nikki pressed her lips together, rubbing the gloss and having another lick. ‘‘You could taste that one, too, if you want.’’

  His gaze slowly shifted to Eden. She stood in the doorway wearing a cap-sleeved silver dress in some soft-looking material that made him want to reach out and touch. The dress was plain and simple, clinging to her breasts without appearing to and flowing in a silky slide down her body like white-hot liquid mercury, the midthigh length emphasizing legs that were tanned and toned and seemed to go on forever. The black, pointed-toe boots with silver tooling were well broken in, as was the black, wide-brimmed Stetson with a cattleman’s crease and a braided silver band that she clutched in her hand.

  He felt a smile tug at his mouth when she pressed her lips together, much the same as Nikki
had done. But where Nikki’s thoughts were purely innocent, Eden’s were obviously on a different page. It showed in the bloom of color on her cheeks, cheeks that were looking paler than normal, he noted.

  And as much as he wanted to taste her lips, with or without the banana, he didn’t dare.

  ‘‘I’m full from tasting your strawberries,’’ he told Nikki, noting that she also wore a powdery dusting of subtle color on her eyelids and cheeks. ‘‘Besides, you ladies don’t want to go around letting every man in the county taste your glossy stuff. It’ll get all smeared.’’ He set Nikki down and shoved his hands in his pockets.

  ‘‘How come we’re havin’ the Fourth of July dinner when we already did the sparklers?’’ Nikki asked.

  ‘‘I already told you, doll baby,’’ Eden said, moving out of the doorway and squeezing Nikki’s sweet cheeks as she passed. ‘‘Today is the actual holiday. We just celebrated it on the weekend, because that’s when most folks have their parties.’’

  Stony looked back at the abundance of food on the counters. ‘‘This isn’t a potluck. I’m buying tonight.’’

  ‘‘I know—I mean not that you’re buying…I have my own money. But I got carried away again.’’ She loaded bread and muffins into cardboard boxes. ‘‘I thought I’d share with the neighbors.’’

  ‘‘I imagine they’ll appreciate it.’’ He caught the first box she shoved at him. ‘‘And I’m still buying.’’ To prevent an argument, he snagged a second carton and went out to the truck. Intending to go back for the rest, he turned and nearly stepped on his tongue.

  Eden was already coming out the door toward him, her Stetson on her head, a box in her arms, a huge purse slung over her shoulder and that flirty, short dress swaying as she walked, teasing her thighs with a silky bounce that damn near bewitched him.

  Dragging his gaze up, he reached out and took the box from her. ‘‘I’d have come back for it.’’

  ‘‘And I saved you some steps.’’

  ‘‘I don’t mind a few steps,’’ he muttered, his voice more gruff than usual.

  ‘‘Ah, chivalry. A lost art. And I do like that in a man.’’

  Her Texas drawl and sassy green eyes beguiled him. If he’d been walking, he would have tripped. He took a deep, calming breath, put the box in the back seat of the extended-cab truck and lifted Nikki in, helping her with her seat belt.

  He started to step back to give Eden room to maneuver, when she suddenly laughed, the sound arresting him right where he stood.

  ‘‘Did I miss something?’’ he asked, brows raised.

  ‘‘Not yet. And you won’t, either, if you keep standing there.’’ When he still just stared at her, not having the slightest idea what she was talking about, she laughed again. ‘‘I’m trying to figure out how to gracefully climb up in this truck with a minimum of panty flash.’’

  Panty… His gaze whipped to the hem of her short dress. Flashing her underpants, she meant.

  Bewitching and charming.

  ‘‘Allow me to practice a little more chivalry.’’ He slipped the heavy purse from her shoulder and spanned her waist with his hands. ‘‘You’re in charge of keeping your legs together,’’ he said casually as he lifted her onto the leather seat. Cautioning himself not to linger, when he wanted to do so in the worst way, he bent to retrieve her purse and set it in her lap.

  Her green eyes were wide and a little stunned, kind of like a mustang staring down at his rider on the ground, wondering how in the heck he’d gotten there.

  He patted her knee. ‘‘There. Not even a flash of green underwear.’’

  ‘‘They’re black,’’ she exclaimed before she realized he was teasing her. Her expression turned to surprise, then to laughter.

  He was a little surprised himself that he was teasing—flirting, actually. It had been a long time. It felt good.

  WHEN THEY REACHED Brewer’s Saloon, Stony elected to leave the food in the truck. He’d bring Wyatt and Ethan out to help with the transfer. Besides, he imagined he was going to need a break, a cool brace of fresh air if he had to watch Eden move in that incredible dress all evening and smell the warm, enticing wildflower scent of her skin.

  When they stepped through the door, Eden put her hand on Stony’s arm. ‘‘Excuse me for a moment. I need to use the ladies’ room.’’

  He nodded, pointed out the direction, then went to find their seats. The booths, with red-and-white-checked tablecloths, were filling up. He stepped through the swinging saloon doors, where a couple of pool tables edged a wooden dance floor. He saw that his neighbors had already pushed together a bunch of tables. Brewer’s longtime waitress, Maedean, expertly wove through the crowd with a tray of drinks held high.

  ‘‘Hey, there, Stony. What’ll it be?’’

  He didn’t want to be presumptuous by ordering for Eden, yet at the same time, he wanted to save Maedean some steps. He’d noticed that she drank a lot of fruit juices and figured that would be a safe enough choice. ‘‘Beer, orange juice and a Shirley Temple.’’ If Eden decided she wanted a kicker in that juice it’d be easy enough to get.

  ‘‘All together?’’ Maedean teased.

  ‘‘Separate might be nice,’’ he said dryly.

  Maedean laughed.

  ‘‘Lots of cherries,’’ Nikki shouted, and took off to the other side of the room to show off her makeup and help Ian push buttons on the jukebox.

  ‘‘You got it, darlin’.’’ Maedean disappeared through the swinging doors toward the bar, and Stony went over to check out the hot-and-heavy pool game taking place between Dora Callahan and Wyatt Malone.

  Wearing her signature tight jeans and cute little tank top, Dora was leaning across the pool table, lining up her shot, her wheat-blond hair falling across her shoulder, getting in her face. Hannah Malone, supporting her swollen stomach with her hands, gave Dora encouragement as Ethan and the preacher seemed to feel honor bound to stick up for the guy team.

  ‘‘These girls are whippin’ our butts,’’ Ethan said, reaching out a hand to shake Stony’s. ‘‘Where’s your date?’’

  ‘‘Ladies’ room. And she’s not my date.’’

  ‘‘Hell, Stratton. I wouldn’t be saying that too loud, seeing as you’re getting married to her in a few days’ time.’’

  Dora raised up from her shot and put an arm around Stony’s neck in a quick hug. ‘‘Ethan, hush, you weren’t going to say anything,’’ she admonished her husband.

  ‘‘I’m not the one with the flapping lips.’’

  Stony shifted his gaze and scowled at the preacher, who lifted his shoulders and tried not to make direct eye contact.

  ‘‘Thanks a lot, Dan.’’

  ‘‘Sorry,’’ the pastor said. ‘‘It slipped out. Ozzie’s fault.’’

  Man alive, he hadn’t seen the town passing the buck like this in a long time—and headed by the preacher, no less. Then again, Dan Lucas hadn’t always been an ordained minister. They’d grown up together, and Stony remembered when Dan had landed in Judge Lester’s court for taking old man Grisby’s tractor—without permission—and driving it straight down the center of Main Street.

  Drunk as a polecat.

  And now, here he was, young and cocky…and responsible for praying over their souls.

  Stony shook his head and noticed the four matchmakers at their regular table in a corner that lately had been cordoned off and declared the cigar-smoking section. But only when the kids weren’t present. Iris Brewer was a tiny woman, but it was clear who ran the show around here.

  Ozzie Peyton shifted forward in his chair, pinning Stony with a disapproving look. Stony had no idea what he’d done to deserve the look, was sure he didn’t deserve it. Then Ozzie’s expression cleared, and he eased back in his chair.

  The reason, Stony realized, had just come through the swinging saloon doors, her black Stetson tipped low and sexy over her forehead. Red hair cascaded down her back and shoulders, catching the overhead light and shimmering like fire against the silver
y sheen of her dress.

  With boots that seemed to glide across the room, she automatically picked up the rhythm of the Brooks and Dunn tune and moved in a smooth two-step walk across the floor.

  Every man in the room watched her, and Stony felt a queer kick right under his ribs. One word, one look from those expressive green eyes, and she’d have more applicants willing to help her out than she could handle.

  So why the hell had she picked him?

  For that matter, why hadn’t Lottie recommended someone else?

  And thinking about one of these other cowboys touching Eden made him crazy.

  ‘‘Hey there, Tex,’’ Ethan said. Perched on his arm was his baby daughter, Katie. On his face was a wide grin aimed at Eden, but clearly meant to annoy Stony.

  ‘‘Can’t you come up with more original stuff, Callahan?’’ Stony knew his tone was abrupt, and there was no call for it. Ethan’s flirting was harmless. Blatantly so. Anybody with a speck of vision could see he was crazy in love with his wife—a dedicated family man and proud of it.

  ‘‘Are you speaking to my clothes or my home state?’’ Eden asked with an open smile that suggested she had this man’s measure and that they could very likely become the best of friends.

  ‘‘The state,’’ Stony answered for his friend. ‘‘He forgets he’s a married man and not a Casanova any longer.’’

  ‘‘Casanova is the name of Wyatt’s bull,’’ Ethan said, unfazed. ‘‘And your clothes are mighty fine, too, Ms Eden,’’ he added, cutting his twinkling gaze to Stony.

  Stony sighed, surprised he felt the punch of annoyance…and jealousy. Ethan was his friend, for crying out loud. He was holding his baby girl in his arms. And Dora was standing right there in earshot, laughing and poking her husband in the ribs.

  Iris Brewer bustled into the room carrying a tray stacked high with burgers and hot dogs. ‘‘You boys take off your hats.’’

  Every man in the room whipped off their hat and raked a hand through their hair—and so did Eden.

  ‘‘Where are my manners?’’ Eden asked, grinning, her soft Southern drawl sliding over Stony like an erotic touch.