Honeymoon Mountain Bride

by Leanne Banks

  Travis kept it vague. “We’ll see. I haven’t made the final cut yet.”

  Zach shook his head. “Well, good luck. I don’t get the appeal of all that glitzy Hollywood stuff. I’m more interested in settling down, you know? Since we lost Mom...” His voice trailed off, and his blue eyes were mournful.

  “Oh, hon.” Trav’s mom patted Zach gently on the back. She returned to the stove and added over her shoulder, “It’s a tough time, I know.”

  “So sorry about Aunt Diana,” Travis said quietly.

  Zach nodded. “Thank you both—and like I was sayin’, losing Mom has reminded me of what really matters, made me see it’s about time I found the right woman and started my family.”

  Travis ate another bite of his mother’s excellent pie and then couldn’t resist playing devil’s advocate on the subject of settling down. “I can’t even begin to understand how tough it’s been for you and your dad and the other boys. But come on, Zach. You’re not even thirty. What’s the big hurry to go tying the knot?”

  Zach sipped his coffee. “You would say that. From where I’m sitting, Travis, you’re a little behind the curve. All your brothers and sisters—and more than a few cousins—are married and having babies. A wife and kids, that’s what life’s all about.”

  “I’ll say it again. There’s no rush.” Well, okay. For him there kind of was. He needed a fiancée, yesterday or sooner. But a wife? Not any time soon.

  Travis’s mother spoke up from her spot at the stove. “Don’t listen to him, Zach. If a wife is what you’re looking for, you’ve come to the right place. There are plenty of pretty, smart, marriageable young women in Rust Creek Falls. Marriage is in the air around here.”

  Travis grunted. “Or it could be something in the water. Whatever it is, Mom’s right. Marriage is nothing short of contagious in this town. Everybody seems to be coming down with it.”

  Zach forked up his last bite of pie. “Sounds like Rust Creek Falls is exactly the place that I want to be.”

  * * *

  It was almost three in the afternoon when Travis climbed in his Ford F-150 crew cab and went to town. He had less than four hours before he had to be back in his room at Maverick Manor. Four hours to find his new fiancée.

  He drove up and down the streets of town with the windows down, waving and calling greetings to people he knew, racking his brain for a likely candidate to play the love of his life on The Great Roundup.

  Driving and waving were getting him nowhere. He decided he’d stop in at Daisy’s Donut Shop, just step inside and see if his future fake fiancée might be waiting there, having herself a maple bar and coffee.

  He found a spot at the curb in front of Buffalo Bill’s Wings To Go, which was right next door to Daisy’s. As he walked past, he stuck his head in Wings To Go. No prospects there. He went on to the donut shop, but when he peered in the window, he saw only five senior citizens and a young mother with two little ones under five.

  Not a potential fiancée in sight.

  Trying really hard not to get discouraged, he started to turn back for his truck. But then the door to the adjacent shop opened.

  Callie Crawford, a nurse at the local clinic, came out of the beauty parlor. “Thanks, Brenna,” Callie called over her shoulder before letting the door shut. She spotted Travis. “Hey, Travis! I heard about you and that reality show. Exciting stuff.”

  “Good to see you, Callie.” He tipped his hat to her. “Final audition is tomorrow night.”

  “At the Ace, so I heard. We’re all rooting for you.”

  He thanked her and asked her to say hi to her husband, Nate, for him. With a nod and a smile, Callie got in her SUV and drove off.

  And that was it. That was when it happened. He watched Callie drive off down the street when it came to him.

  Brenna. Brenna O’Reilly.

  Good-looking, smart as a whip and raised on a ranch. She’d taken some ribbons barrel racing during the three or four summers she worked the local rodeo circuit. She was bold, too. Stood up for herself and didn’t take any guff.

  But he’d always considered himself too old for her. Plus, he kind of thought of himself as a guy who looked out for her. He would never make a move on her.

  But this wouldn’t be a move.

  This would be...an opportunity.

  If she was interested and if it was something she could actually handle.

  Brenna.

  Did he have any other prospects for this?

  Hell, no.

  He had less than three hours to find someone. At this point, it was pretty much Brenna or bust.

  By then, he was already opening the door to the beauty shop. A bell tinkled overhead as he went in.

  Brenna was standing right there, behind the reception counter with the cash register on it, facing the door. She looked kind of surprised at the sight of him.

  Before either of them could say anything, the owner, Bee, spotted him. “Travis Dalton!” She waved at him with the giant blow-dryer in her left hand. “What do you know? It’s our local celebrity.”

  Every woman in the shop turned to stare at him. He took off his hat and put on his best smile. “Not a celebrity yet, Bee. Ladies, how you doing?”

  A chorus of greetings followed. He nodded and kept right on smiling.

  Bee asked, “What can we do for you, darlin’?”

  He thought fast. “The big final audition’s tomorrow night.”

  “So we heard.”

  “Figured I could maybe use a haircut—just a trim.” He hooked his hat on the rack by the door. “So, Brenna, you available?”

  Brenna’s blue eyes met his. “You’re in luck. I’ve got an hour before my next appointment.” She came out from behind the counter, looking smart and sassy in snug jeans, ankle boots and a silky red shirt. Red worked for her. Matched her hair, which used to be a riot of springy curls way back when. Now she wore it straight and smooth, a waterfall of fire to just below her shoulders.

  She waited until he’d hung up his denim jacket next to his hat then led him to her station. “Have a seat.”

  He dropped into the padded swivel chair and faced his own image in the mirror.

  Brenna put her hands on his shoulders and leaned in. He got a whiff of her perfume. Nice. She caught his eye in the mirror and then ran her fingers up into his hair, her touch light, professional. “This looks pretty good.”

  It should. He’d paid a lot to a Hollywood stylist right before that first audition two weeks ago. “I was thinking just a trim.”

  She stood back, nodding, a dimple tucking into her velvety cheek as she smiled. “Well, all right. You want a shampoo first?”

  What he wanted was to talk to her alone. He cast a glance to either side and lowered his voice. “Say, Brenna...”

  She knew instantly that he was up to something. He could tell by the slight narrowing of her eyes and the way the bow of her upper lip flattened just a little. And then she leaned in again and whispered, “What’s going on?”

  He went for it. “I was wondering if I could talk to you in private.”

  Her sleek red-brown eyebrows drew together. “Right now?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Where?”

  He cast a quick glance around and spotted the hallway that led to the parking area in back. “Outside?”

  She folded her arms across her chest and tipped her head to the side. “Sure. Go on out back. I’ll be right there.”

  “Thanks.” He got right up and headed for the back door, not even pausing to collect his jacket and hat. It wasn’t that cold out, and he could get them later.

  “What’s going on?” Bee asked as he strode past her station.

  Brenna answered for him. “Travis and I need to talk.”

  Somebody giggled.
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br />   Somebody else said, “Oh, I’ll just bet you do.”

  Travis kept walking. It was okay with him if everyone at the beauty shop assumed he was finally making a move on Brenna—because he was.

  Just not exactly in the way that they thought.

  Outside, he looked for a secluded spot and settled on the three-walled nook where Bee stored her Dumpster. It didn’t smell too bad, and the walls would give them privacy.

  He heard the back door open again and stuck his head out to watch Brenna emerge. “Psst.”

  She spotted him and laughed. “Travis, what is this?”

  He waved her forward. “Come on. We don’t have all day.”

  For that he got an eye roll, but she did hustle on over to the enclosure. “All right, I’m here. Now what is it?”

  He opened his mouth—and nothing came out. He had no idea where to even start.

  “I...I have a proposal.”

  Her eyelashes swept down and then back up again. “Excuse me?”

  “This... What I’m about to say. I need your solemn word you won’t tell a soul about any of it, or I’ll get sued for breach of contract. Understand?”

  “Not really.” She chewed on her lower lip for a moment. “But okay. I’m game. I won’t tell a soul. You have my sworn word on that.” She hooked her pinkie at him. He gave it a blank look. “Pinkie promise, Trav. You know that is the most solemn of promises and can never be broken.”

  “What are we, twelve?”

  She made a little snorting sound. “Oh, come on.”

  He gave in and hooked his pinkie with hers. “Satisfied?”

  “Are you? Because that is the question.” She laughed, a sweet, musical sound, and tightened her pinkie against his briefly before letting go.

  “As long as you promise me.”

  “Travis. I promise. I will tell no one, no matter what happens. Now what is going on?”

  “How’d you like to be on The Great Roundup?”

  She wrinkled her nose at him. “What? How? You’re making no sense.”

  “Just listen, okay? Just give me a chance. I...well, I really thought I had it, you know? I thought I was on the show. But it turns out they want a young couple. A young, engaged couple. And the casting director sort of asked me if there was anyone special back home and I sort of said yes—and then, all of a sudden, they tell me there’s one final audition, that it will be at the Ace and I should bring my fiancée.”

  Brenna’s eyes were wide as dinner plates. “You told them you were engaged?”

  “No, I didn’t tell them that. They assumed it and I, well, I let them think it. And now I need a fake fiancée, okay? I need someone who doesn’t mind putting herself out there, if you know what I mean. Someone who’s not going to be afraid to speak up and hold her head high when the cameras are rolling. Someone good-looking who’s familiar with ranch work, who can ride a horse and handle a rifle.”

  Brenna grinned then. “So you think I’m good-looking, huh?”

  “Brenna, you’re gorgeous.”

  “Travis.” She looked like she was having a really good time. “Say that again.”

  Why not? It was only the truth. “Brenna, you are super fine.”

  And she threw back her red head and let her laughter chime out. He stood there and watched her and thought how he’d known her since she was knee-high to a gnat. And that she was perfect, just what he needed to make Giselle happy—and earn him his spot on The Great Roundup.

  But then she stopped laughing. She lowered her head and she regarded him steadily. “So say that it worked—say I go to the Ace with you tomorrow night and we convince them that we’re together, that we’re going to get married. Then what?”

  “Then you belong to them for the next eight to ten weeks. First while they run checks on you and make sure you’re healthy, mentally stable and have never murdered anyone or anything.”

  “You’re not serious.”

  “As a rattler on a hot rock. And as soon as all that’s over, we start filming. That’s happening at some so far undisclosed Montana location. We’re there until they’re through filming.”

  “But what if I get eliminated? Then can I come home?”

  He shook his head. “Everyone stays. So they can bring you back on camera if they want to, and also because if you come home early, everyone who knows you will know you’ve been eliminated. They want to keep the suspense going as to who the big winner is until the final show airs. Also, when the filming’s over and you come home, you and I would still be pretending to be engaged.”

  “Until?”

  “The episodes where we’ve each been eliminated have aired—or the final episode, where one of us wins. The show airs once a week, August through December. Bottom line, you could be my fake fiancée straight through till Christmas.”

  She leaned against the wall next to the Dumpster and wrapped her arms around herself. “Wow. I...don’t know what to say.”

  He resisted the burning need to promise her that they would win and that she was going to love it. “It’s a lot to take in, I know.”

  She slanted him a glance. “I’d have to check with Bee, see if she’d hold my station for two months.”

  He knew Brenna was an independent contractor who rented a booth in the shop, but he refused to consider that Bee might say anything but yes. “I get that, sure.”

  “And then there’s the money. I heard the winner gets a million dollars.”

  “Actually, once you get on the show, there’s a graduated fee scale. The million is the top prize, but everybody gets something.”

  She leaned toward him a little, definitely interested. “Graduated how?”

  “The first one eliminated gets twenty-five hundred. The longer you stay in the game, the more you get. For instance, if you last through the sixth show, you get ten thousand. And if you’re the last to go before the winner, you get a hundred K.”

  She actually chuckled. “Good to know. So, Travis, if we’re in this together, I say we split everything fifty-fifty.”

  He’d figured on giving her something, but he’d been kind of hoping she’d settle for much less. After all, he had big plans for his new house, for the ranch. He cleared his throat. “Would you take twenty percent?”

  “Travis,” she chided.

  “Thirty?” he asked hopefully.

  “Look at it this way. If they like me and want me on the show, you double your chances to win. Not to mention, the longer we both stay on, the more we both make.” She spoke way too patiently. He found himself wistfully recalling the little girl she’d once been, the little girl who’d considered him her own personal hero and would have done anything he asked her to do, instantly, without question. Where had that little girl gone?

  “True, but I’m your ticket in,” he reminded her. “I’m the one who worked my ass off getting this far, you know?”

  “I see that. And I admire that. I sincerely do. But without me, you won’t make the cast.”

  She was probably right. He argued, anyway. “I’m not sure of that.”

  Brenna was silent, leaning there against the wall, her head tipped down. The seconds ticked by. He waited, trying to look easy and unconcerned, playing it like he didn’t have a care in the world. Too bad that inside he was a nervous wreck.

  Finally, she looked up and spoke again. “I’m trying not to be so impulsive in my life, to settle down a little, you know what I mean?”

  Their eyes met and they gazed at each other for a long count of ten. “Bren. I know exactly what you mean.”

  She gave a chuckle, sweet and low. “I kind of thought that you might. The thing is, playing your fake fiancée on a reality show is not exactly what I would call settling down. And what are the odds against us, anyway? How many will end up competing with us?”r />
  “I think there are twenty-two contestants total, so it’s you and me and twenty others.”

  “Meaning that however we split the money, odds are someone else will take home the big prize.”

  He pushed off the wall, took her by the shoulders and looked deeply into those ocean-blue eyes. “First rule. Never, ever say we might not win. We will win. Half the battle is the mental game. Defeat is not an option. Winning is the only acceptable outcome.”

  She got it, she really did. He could feel it in the sudden straightening of her shoulders beneath his hands, see it in the bright gleam that lit those wide eyes. “Yeah. You’re right. We will win.”

  “That’s it. Hold that thought.” He let go of her shoulders but held her gaze.

  She said, “We really would be increasing our chances, the two of us together. Together, we can work out strategies, you know? We can plan how to handle whatever they throw at us.”

  “Exactly. We would have each other’s backs. So what do you say, Bren?”

  “I still want half the money.” A gust of wind slipped into the three-sided enclosure and stirred her hair, blowing a few fiery strands across her mouth.

  He smoothed them out of the way, guiding them behind her ear, thinking how soft her pale skin was and marveling at how she’d grown up to be downright hot. It was a good thing he’d always promised himself he’d never make a move on her. Add that promise to the fact that he’d sworn off women and he should be able to keep from getting any romantic ideas about her.

  “Travis?” She searched his face. “Did you hear what I just said?”

  “I heard.” He ordered his mind off her inconvenient hotness and set it on coming up with more reasons she should take less than half the prize.

  Unfortunately, he couldn’t think of a single one.

  So all right, then. His new house and his investment in the ranch would be smaller. But his chances of winning had just doubled—more than doubled. Because Brenna was a fighter, and together they would go all the way to the win.

  “Fair enough, Bren. Fifty-fifty, you and me.” He held up his hand.