by Cora Seton
"Why isn't he giving you credit?"
"Because…I said no to him." She tried to turn away but he held her firmly.
"No to what?"
"No to…being with him. No to being his wife."
That son-of-a-bitch. Rage made it difficult to speak. If he said something now he'd sound like he was yelling at her. He paced away and fought to regain control of his temper. "Dry your eyes. I'm going to take care of this."
"No. Rob, don't…," she said, following him.
"Remember when I asked you to respect me? When we said our vows?" He knew it wasn't entirely fair to throw that in her face right now, but he'd be damned if he stood by and let Duncan Cassidy ride roughshod over her. He'd worked in the fields here for three days now and he knew how the hands felt about the Cassidys. Elliot was strict. Duncan was a jerk.
Morgan paused, opened her mouth and then closed it again. She searched his face with her gaze. "Okay," she said finally, although he could see that was an effort. "You said you'd think through your decisions. I'm trusting you to do that. What are you going to do?"
He nodded. "You'll see. Be back inside and ready in about thirty seconds, okay? Remember to smile. The bastards hate it when you smile." He strode back to the door and let himself in just in time to see Duncan grinning and preening in front of the crowd. Rob climbed the two steps to the stage, crossed it and stood side by side with the man, leaning in to the mic like he was part of the show and had something to add.
"Howdy folks, everyone having a good time tonight?" There was a ripple of amusement and surprise through the crowd at this unexpected interruption, but a smattering of applause and one good natured call back, as well. "I said, everyone having a good time tonight?" Rob repeated, more loudly. He'd emcee'd a concert or two at the Dancing Boot in his time. He knew how to rouse a crowd.
"Yes!" Cheers and clapping thundered through the hall.
"What are you doing?" Duncan hissed, elbowing him away.
"What you should be doing," Rob said in a low voice, keeping a smile plastered on his face. He grabbed the mic with one hand and wrapped his other arm around Duncan, as if they were old buddies. He addressed the crowd. "As Duncan was saying, we're so glad you could join us and get a taste of Cassidy Wineries' latest vintage. But now it's time to meet the mastermind behind the wine. A beautiful young lady, and my fiancée…"
Duncan elbowed him again, and in one quick, practiced motion, Rob flipped up the tails of Duncan's coat, shoved his hand down the back of his pants and twisted his fist into the man's underwear. Yanking upwards as hard as he could, he gave Duncan the wedgie of the century. "Tell 'em, Mr. Cassidy. Who made this wonderful wine?"
Duncan let out a bray like a startled donkey, then managed to croak out, "Morgan Tate," in a voice several octaves higher than usual.
"You heard the man. Let's give a warm welcome to Morgan Tate!" He nodded toward the entrance, where Morgan stood uncertainly. "Come on, darling. Tell the crowd a little about your wine."
One hand still entwined in Duncan's underwear, an image sure to haunt him for days to come, Rob shoved Duncan away from the mic, towards the side of the stage. Morgan hesitantly took their place and began to speak.
"I came to Cassidy Wineries a decade ago, determined to learn everything there was to know about cultivating grapes and turning them into wine…" she began. As she went on, her voice became stronger and he saw the crowd becoming captivated by her story. Soon she had them on her side, as she detailed the journey she'd taken to rise through the ranks from a lowly position working in the tasting room to becoming manager of the distillery. "This summer I finally discovered the one place in the world where I belong," she said, with a glance and a smile toward Rob. "That's why this vintage is called Coming Home. I hope when you taste it, you'll be reminded of the complexity of the landscape and people that make up the one place in the world where you belong. Thank you." She dipped her head, and the crowd applauded her enthusiastically.
Rob released Duncan, but leaned in to say into his ear. "That's nothing compared to what I'll do if you ever turn her smile into a frown again. Got me?"
Duncan nodded and hurried from the stage. Rob hoped that was the last they'd see of him tonight.
"Ready to dance?" he asked Morgan when he slipped his arm through hers and led her to the parquet floor that was now filling with couples. The band struck up a waltz.
"Okay. But tell me – what did you say to Duncan? I can't believe he let me up on stage." She slid her arms around his neck and leaned comfortably against his chest.
Rob suppressed a chuckle. "I'll tell you all about it when we get home tonight."
CHAPTER NINE
"Ready for this?" Rob asked as they prepared to deplane at Chance Creek Regional Airport six days later.
Morgan took a deep, steadying breath. The past week had been a whirlwind and she felt like she hadn't had a chance to get a hold of herself since the night of the winery party. Rob had never quite explained what he'd done to make Duncan keep quiet when he'd called her up to the stage. She hadn't seen the man for the rest of the evening, and on Monday morning she'd dreaded going to work. When she arrived at her office, however, she found a note from Elliot stating that Duncan was out of town for the week, and the distillery would be under her supervision. The days had flown by, her first peaceful experience in years at her job, and at lunchtimes she'd joined Rob and the field hands for an alfresco meal, getting to know the men in a way she never had before. It still left her speechless that Rob had taken to viticulture so smoothly and seemed to have so much fun working with the other men.
They spent their evenings packing up Morgan's apartment, getting their stories straight, and tumbling into bed and fooling around – without crossing the line into making love.
To Morgan's surprise, Rob didn't push her to go all the way, and she was grateful. It wouldn't take much persuasion now to get her on board with the notion. It was all she could do to hold back. Now she was more excited than she could say to reach Chance Creek and start a new life – and build her own winery – but she was nervous, too. What would everyone make of their whirlwind courtship?
As they gathered their belongings and took their turn inching down the aisle of the plane, Morgan's palms became wet. It was one thing to talk wedding plans with Lisa over the phone. It was another thing to meet Rob's family as his fiancée face-to-face. Would they like her? Would his brothers and father be as welcoming as his mother?
At least she wouldn't have to face them right away. Ethan and Autumn had volunteered to pick them up at the airport.
Once they made it past security they stopped and scanned the small crowd gathered to welcome the passengers.
"I don't see them," she said, looking from face to face again.
"Must be running late."
Before she could reply, a man she didn't recognize hurried up to them, waving a slip of paper. "Rob Matheson?"
"Yeah," Rob said, eyeing him curiously.
"Phone message from Ethan Cruz." He stuck the piece of paper into Rob's hand and hurried away, toward the ticket counters.
"What the hell?" Rob opened it up and showed her the writing.
Sorry, buddy – can't make it. You'll have to take a taxi.
Ethan
"He can't even pick me up from the damned airport?" Rob had his phone out in a second, and punched in a number furiously.
Morgan's stomach sank. Ethan must really not approve of their engagement if he'd leave them stranded this way. Maybe he and Claire didn't want her here, after all.
"Ethan? Get your ass out here…"
"SURPRISE!"
Morgan jumped as people leapt out from behind kiosks and baggage carousels. Autumn, Ethan, Claire, Jamie, Rob's brothers, Rose Bellingham and Tracey Richards, an older couple she had to assume were Mr. and Mrs. Matheson.
"Did you really think I'd make you take a taxi?" Ethan said, pulling Rob into a man-hug.
"You have before," Rob said, looking half-pissed, half-
relieved.
"For a practical joker, you're pretty damn gullible."
"Rob! Morgan!" Mrs. Matheson – Lisa – approached with open arms. Morgan found herself squished between her and Rob, being rocked back and forth in a stifling hug. "Let me look at you two. My bride and groom! Rob, you caught yourself a pretty one! Let me see the ring." She tugged Morgan's hand upward and exclaimed over the diamond and its beautiful setting. "We're going to have so much fun planning your wedding! We'll go to Ellie's Bridals tomorrow."
"Mom, give her a break; we just got here," Rob said.
"Son," Holt said. Morgan noticed he wasn't smiling. He shook Rob's hand as formally as if they'd never met before. "Congratulations. I look forward to your wedding day."
Was Morgan imagining things, or was there a veiled hint of a threat in that growled statement? Remembering the way Rob's conversation with him had gone when he had announced their engagement, she had a feeling Holt didn't expect them to last that long. Well, they'd last all right.
They would last a lifetime.
* * * * *
"Rob, put your luggage in your father's truck," Autumn said. "Then you'll ride with us to our ranch for the wedding rehearsal. Dinner's at DelMonaco's tonight, then I'm stealing Morgan for a pre-wedding sleepover to keep Claire company before the big day!"
Rob acquiesced, although he didn't like the idea of sleeping apart from Morgan. Still, this was Jamie and Claire's wedding weekend and they got to call the shots. He'd spend tonight with his buddies, and give Jamie a proper send-off. After his father's greeting, he didn't feel like spending much time with family right now.
Still, it was good to be home, among the people he knew best. The wedding rehearsal and dinner afterwards was full of good-natured teasing and banter. After dinner, the men and women split up. Claire, Autumn, Morgan, Tracey and Rose all returned to the Cruz ranch. The men retired to the Dancing Boot for a final night of drunken carousing.
Or so Rob expected, before Jamie announced he had no intention of spending his wedding day with a violent hangover.
"Plenty of time to toss my cookies in front of my bride later," was how he put it. Instead, they decided to create the ultimate pool tournament, and Luthor Redgrave, the owner of the Boot, even chipped in an old bowling trophy to use as a prize.
They hogged the sole table for the entire evening, and while they didn't drink overly much alcohol, they still made the most noise of anyone in the bar. Rob rode home with Cab later in a satisfied frame of mine.
"You really going to marry Morgan?" Cab asked as they drove out of town toward the Matheson place.
"Yep."
"That's too bad." Cab peered through the darkness of the country road.
"Too bad? What do you mean?" Rob was taken aback by his friend's quiet pronouncement.
Cab tapped his thick fingers on the steering wheel, then seemed to come to a conclusion. He slowed down and pulled off of the road onto the dirt shoulder. This far out of town there were no streetlights, and the quiet of a Montana night settled over them as the engine died. Cab hesitated again. He always was deliberate about his actions. Rob grew impatient, but before he could open his mouth to hurry Cab along, the man began to speak.
"I did a little checking into Morgan. It seemed strange when she appeared out of the blue last month, and then when I heard you two were getting married…something didn't add up." His shrug was barely visible in the darkness. "Sometimes I get a hunch, you know?"
Rob did know. "What'd you find out?" he asked reluctantly, his good mood evaporating. Once again he realized how much he was counting on this marriage – both for the prize of the land, and to be with Morgan.
"I don't know exactly how to say this, so I'm going to just say it, okay?"
Rob steeled himself. That didn't sound good. Although what Cab could possibly have found out about Morgan he couldn't guess. From everything he'd seen she was hardworking, quiet and kept to herself. What kind of trouble could she possibly have gotten into?
"She's implicated in an international diamond smuggling operation. I figure she's using this marriage to make it even easier for her to travel between the United States and Canada. A married woman can pretty much fly under any radar, know what I mean? She'll have a husband in the US, and family back in Victoria. Who would think to question her movements?"
His statement blindsided Rob. Diamond smuggling? That was so far from anything he'd guessed, he couldn't even form words into a sentence. "I…how…she what?" he finally managed to choke out.
Cab's laughter roared through the small interior of the truck. "Got you!" he gasped, wiping tears from his eyes. "I had you going good. You should have seen your face! Diamond smuggling? Morgan? Come on, man – how could you believe that for a minute?"
"She did appear from nowhere last month," Rob sputtered, trying to defend himself. "You have to admit it was pretty weird to find out Ethan and Claire had a sister we'd never heard about." Shit, he'd been had, twice in one day. His reputation was going to take a beating over this.
Relief flooded him, however, and he had to laugh at his own stupidity. Diamond smuggling.
"Yeah, I guess so," Cab said, his laughter subsiding into silent chuckles. "I did check her out, by the way. Clean as a whistle, as far as I can tell."
"Great." Rob tried to breathe normally again. He hoped no one else felt the need to get revenge for his past practical jokes any time soon, or he was going to have a heart attack.
CHAPTER TEN
"I'm shaking," Claire said as she checked her image in the full-length mirror again.
Morgan patted her arm. The beautiful bride was indeed shaking like a leaf. "You'll be fine."
"What if I'm not? What if I trip, or laugh when the minister's talking?"
"I was like this before my wedding," Autumn said, fluffing out Claire's veil. "The minute you walk down those stairs and out the door, you'll settle down."
"I think I’m going to be sick."
Claire did look pale, Morgan thought. Pale, but stunning. She'd surprised everyone when she showed them the dress she'd bought from Ellie's Bridals. Morgan had guessed Claire would choose a severe, unornamented sheath dress, to suit her sleek, black bob and no-nonsense fashion style. Instead, she bought a gown out of a fairy tale. Cream colored satin, a corset-boned bodice, long underskirt and an overlay of fabric pulled back into a generous bustle and train. With her imperial features and her dark hair swept back into a sophisticated updo, she could have stepped off the pages of a magazine.
"You won't be sick," Autumn said with authority. "What's nine times nine?"
"Eighty-one. Why are you asking…?"
"Six times eight."
"Forty-eight."
"Three times ten."
Claire started to laugh. "Multiplication tables? That's how you want me to conquer my nerves?"
"It works, doesn't it? It's how my Mom got me through getting shots when I was little."
Claire looked surprised. Morgan knew she was thinking of Teresa Leeds' cold personality.
"I know," Autumn sighed. "These days Mom would tell me to suck it up."
"She's pretty serious," Claire agreed.
"She didn't used to be. Anyway, you look beautiful, and the ceremony should start any minute. Let's get to the top of the stairs." She took one look at Claire's face and began to quiz her again. "Five times eleven."
"Fifty-five," Claire said as they left the room.
Morgan checked her own reflection one last time. As maid of honor, she'd need to get out there in a second. She and Autumn both wore light coral strapless bridesmaid dresses with flowing, floor length skirts and crisscrossed bodices. Plain, yet elegant enough to stand beside Claire.
"Morgan," Autumn called.
She hurried from the room and took her place at the beginning of the procession. They met Ethan at the bottom of the stairs, and he took Claire's arm. Since Claire's parents were both dead, Ethan would give her away. Rob was to be Jamie's best man, with Cab his second groomsman.
"Ready?" Ethan asked Claire. Morgan smiled to see the look that passed between her half-brother and sister.
"I think so."
"I'm really happy for you," Ethan said, and dropped a kiss on the top of her head. Claire blinked back tears, and Morgan's eyes were damp, too. How wonderful for Ethan and Claire that their marriages kept them close to home and among friends. And now she and Rob were trying to make a go of it, too.
As the processional music swelled, she stepped to the doorway and out onto the front lawn of the Big House. Their path was strewn with rose petals and as she made her way between the rows of chairs set up on the lawn for the guests, Morgan heard the gasp from the assembled friends and relatives that signified they'd caught sight of Claire for the first time.
"Oh, isn't she beautiful," she heard a woman say.
She wanted to be that beautiful at her wedding. If all went well she would be making her way down the aisle in about a month. Soon she would belong here as much as Autumn, Claire, Ethan and Rob did.
She hoped.
As she took her place near the altar, she met Rob's gaze and smiled. His answering look promised another night of passion ahead of them when they were finally alone again. She knew he had to be frustrated they still hadn't consummated their relationship, but they were intimate often, and they'd both expressed how much fun they would have on their wedding night.
Rob cocked an eyebrow and her face warmed. She hoped he hadn't somehow read her mind.
She had a feeling he had.
* * * * *
Rob knew he should be admiring the bride, but he couldn't keep his eyes off of Morgan. In her coral dress, she looked like a Grecian goddess, so feminine, so lovely. It was all he could do not to cross the aisle and take her into his arms.
He hoped he looked half as good in this damned suit. Twice in seven days he'd had to dress up. He hoped this wasn't a harbinger of things to come. A glance at Jamie told him his friend was dumbstruck by the vision his bride presented walking toward him. Good. That's what a wedding should be. That's what his would be like with Morgan.
