by Fiona Brand
Marriage. Family. All of that slipped by him four years ago. And now that Nathan had reminded him, Caleb idly wondered how many kids he and Meg might have had by now if things had gone the way he’d expected. But the night before their wedding, Meg had run off with Caleb’s brother, Mitch. Now the two of them lived on the family ranch with their set of twins. Three years old, the boy and girl ran wild around the ranch and Caleb put whatever he might have felt for kids of his own into those two.
There might still be tension between him and his brother, Mitch, not to mention Meg. But he loved those kids more than he would have thought possible.
“Mitch and Meg still out of town?” Nathan asked, glancing around as if half expecting to see them walking up.
“Yeah. Visiting Meg’s family.” And Caleb had been enjoying the respite.
“That’s one way to get out of going to a summer wedding.”
“Amen.” Caleb loosened his tie a little. Felt like he was beginning to melt out here in the sun. He spared a glance at the sky and watched a few lazy white clouds drifting along. “Who plans a wedding in August, anyway? Hotter than the halls of hell out here.”
“You know how the Goodmans are,” Nathan answered. “The old man figures he knows everything and the rest of them—except Brooke—just fall in line. Probably his idea to hold it in high summer. No doubt he was aiming for it to be the talk of the town.”
That sounded like Simon Goodman. Though the man was Caleb’s lawyer, that was more from inertia than anything else. Goodman had been Caleb’s father’s lawyer and when the elder Mackenzie died, Caleb just never bothered to change the situation. So his own inaction had brought him here. Truth be told, Caleb usually avoided attending any weddings since it inevitably brought up old memories that he’d just as soon bury.
“Anyway,” Nathan said, pushing past the uncomfortable pause in the conversation, “I’m the town sheriff. I’m sort of forced to be at these society things. Why the hell did you come?”
Caleb snorted. “Normally, I wouldn’t have. But Simon Goodman’s still the ranch attorney. So it’s business to be at his son Jared’s wedding.” And he made a mental note to do something about that real soon. He shrugged. “If Mitch and Meg had been in town I’d have forced my brother to go instead of me. But since they’re gone, I’m stuck.”
Served him right, Caleb told himself, for letting things slide. He never should have kept Simon on. He and Caleb’s father had been great friends so that didn’t speak well of the man.
He’d let the lawyer relationship stand mainly because it was easier than taking time away from work to find someone new. Between running the ranch and expanding the oil-rich field discovered only twenty years before, Caleb had been too damn busy to worry about a lawyer he only had to deal with a few times a year.
Looking for a change of subject, Caleb said, “Since you’re here, that means the new deputy’s in charge, right?”
Nathan winced. “Yeah. Jeff’s doing fine.”
Caleb laughed. “Sure, I can hear the confidence in your voice.”
Sighing, Nathan pushed one hand through his hair and shook his head. “With Jack retired, I needed a deputy and Jeff Baker’s working out. But he’s from Houston so it’s taking him some time to get used to small town living.”
Caleb had heard about it. Jeff was about thirty and a little too strict on the law and order thing for Royal. The new deputy had handed out more speeding tickets in the last six months than Nathan had in years. Folks in Royal hit an empty road and they just naturally picked up speed. Jeff Baker wasn’t making many friends.
“Hell,” Caleb said, “I’ve lived here my whole life and I’m still not used to it.”
“I hear that,” Nathan replied, shifting his gaze to where his wife stood with a group of friends. “But I’ve been getting a lot of complaints about the tickets Jeff’s handing out.”
Caleb laughed. “He’s not going to slow anybody down.”
“Maybe not,” Nathan agreed with a nod. “But he’s going to keep trying.”
“I expect so,” Caleb mused, then glanced over at Nathan’s wife who was smiling and waving one hand. “I think Amanda wants you.”
Straightening up, Nathan gave a heartfelt sigh. “That’s it, then. I’ll see you after. At the reception?”
“I don’t think so. Soon as I’m clear, I’m headed back to the ranch.”
Another sigh. “Lucky bastard.”
Caleb grinned and watched his friend head toward the Texas Cattleman’s Club building. The place was a one-story, rambling sort, made of dark wood and stone, boasting a tall slate roof. It was a part of Royal and had been for generations. Celebrations of all kinds had been held there and today, it was a wedding. One he’d have to attend in just a few minutes.
* * *
Shelby Arthur stared at her own reflection and hardly recognized herself. She supposed all brides felt like that on their wedding day, but for her, the effect was terrifying.
Her long, dark auburn curls were pulled back from her face to hang down to the center of her back. Her veil poofed out around her head and her green eyes narrowed at the gown she hated. A ridiculous number of yards of white tulle made Shelby look like a giant marshmallow caught in netting. The dress was her about-to-be-mother-in-law’s doing. She’d insisted that the Goodmans had a reputation to maintain in Royal and the simple off-the-shoulder gown Shelby had chosen wouldn’t do the trick.
So instead, she was looking at a stranger wearing an old-fashioned gown with long, lacy sleeves, a cinched waist and full skirt, and a neckline that was so high she felt as if she were choking.
“Thank God for air-conditioning,” she muttered, otherwise in the sweltering Texas heat, she’d be little more than a tulle-covered puddle on the floor. She half turned to get a look at the back of the dress and finally sighed. She looked like one of those crocheted dolls her grandmother used to make to cover up spare toilet paper rolls.
Shelby was about to get married in a dress she hated, a veil she didn’t want, to a man she wasn’t sure she liked, much less loved. How did she get to this point?
“Oh, God. What am I doing?” The whisper was strained but heartfelt.
She’d left her home in Chicago to marry Jared Goodman. But now that he was home in Texas, under his awful father’s thumb, Jared was someone she didn’t even know. Her whirlwind romance had morphed into a nightmare and now she was trapped.
She took a breath, blew it out and asked her reflection, “What are you doing?”
“Good question.”
Shelby jumped, startled by the sudden appearance of Jared’s mother. The woman was there, behind her in the mirror, bustling into the room. Margaret Goodman was tall and painfully thin. Her face was all sharp angles and her blue eyes were small and judgmental. Her graying blond hair was scraped back from her face into a bun that incongruously sported a circlet of yellow rosebuds. The beige suit she wore was elegant if boring and was so close to the color of her hair and skin the woman simply disappeared into her clothes.
If only, Shelby thought.
“Your veil should be down over your face,” Margaret chastised, hurrying over to do just that.
As the veil fell across her vision, Shelby had a momentary panic attack and felt as though she couldn’t breathe through that all-encompassing tulle curtain, so she whipped it back again. Taking a deep breath, she said, “I’m sorry, I can’t—”
“You will.” Margaret stepped back, took a look, then moved to tug at the skirt of the wedding gown. “We’re going for a very traditional, chaste look here. It’s unseemly that this wedding is happening so quickly. The town will be gossiping for months, watching for a swollen belly.”
Shelby sucked in a gulp of air. “I’ve told you already, I’m not pregnant.”
“We’ll soon see, won’t we?” One blond eyebrow lifted over pale blue eyes. “The Goodman
family has a reputation in this town and I expect you to do nothing to besmirch it.”
“Besmirch?” Who even talked like that, Shelby thought wildly. It was as if she’d dropped into a completely different universe. Suddenly, she missed Chicago—her friends, her life, so much she ached with it.
Moving to Texas with a handsome, well-connected cowboy who had swept her off her feet had seemed like an adventure at the time. Now she was caught up in a web that seemed inescapable. Her fiancé was a stranger, his mother a blatant enemy and his brother had a way of looking at Shelby that had her wishing she’d paid more attention in self-defense class.
Jared’s father, Simon, was no better, making innuendoes that he probably thought were clever but gave Shelby the outright creeps. The only bright spot in the Goodman family was Jared’s sister, Brooke, and she couldn’t help Shelby with what was about to happen.
Somehow, she had completely lost control of her own life and now she stood there in a mountain of tulle trying to find enough scraps of who she was to cling to.
“Once the ceremony is finished, we’ll all go straightaway to the reception,” Margaret was saying.
Oh, God.
“You and Jared will, of course, be in the receiving line until every guest has been welcomed personally. The photographer can then indulge in the necessary photos for precisely fifteen minutes, after which you and Jared will reenter the reception for the ceremonial first toast.” Margaret paused long enough to glance into the mirror herself and smooth hair that wouldn’t dare fall out of place. “Mr. Goodman is an important man and as his family we will do all we can to support him. Is that understood?” Her gaze, hard and cold, shot to Shelby’s. “When you’ve returned from your honeymoon...”
Her stomach sank even further. She wouldn’t have been surprised to see it simply drop out of her body and fall splat onto the floor. Her day was scheduled. Her honeymoon was scheduled and she had no doubt at all that her life would be carefully laid out for her, complete with bullet points.
How had it all come to this?
For their honeymoon, Shelby had wanted to see Paris. Instead, Jared’s mother had insisted they go to Philadelphia so Shelby could be introduced to the eastern branch of the Goodman family. And much to her dismay, Jared was simply doing as he was told with no regard at all for Shelby. He’d changed so much since coming back to Texas that she hardly recognized the man anymore.
Margaret was still talking. Fixing a steely gaze on the mirror, she met Shelby’s eyes. “When you return to Texas, you will of course give up your ridiculous business and be the kind of wife to Jared that will enable him to further his own law career.”
“Oh, I don’t think—”
“You’ll be a Goodman,” Margaret snapped, brooking no argument.
Shelby swallowed hard. When they’d met in Chicago, Jared had talked about his ranch in Texas. He’d let her believe that he was a cowboy who happened to also have a law degree. And yes, she could admit that the fantasy of being with a cowboy had really appealed to her. But mostly, he’d talked about their having a family and that had sealed the deal for Shelby.
She’d told herself then that she could move her professional organizer business anywhere. But from the moment Jared had introduced her to his family, Margaret had made it clear that her “little business” was hardly appropriate.
Shelby met her own eyes in the mirror and read the desperation there. Maybe all of this would be easier to take if she was madly in love with Jared. But the truth was, she’d fooled herself from the beginning. This wasn’t love. It couldn’t be. The romance, the excitement, had all worn off, like the luster of sterling silver as soon as it was tarnished. Rather than standing up for himself, Jared was completely cowed by his family and that really didn’t bode well for Shelby’s future.
Margaret checked the slim gold watch on her wrist, clucked her tongue and headed for the door. “The music will begin in exactly five minutes.” She stopped, glanced over her shoulder and added, “My husband will be here to escort you down the aisle since you don’t have a father of your own.”
Shelby’s mouth dropped open as the other woman left the room. Stunned, she realized Margaret had tossed that last bit with venom, as if Shelby had arranged for her father to die ten years ago just so he could disrupt Margaret Goodman’s wedding scenario.
She shivered at the thought of Simon Goodman. She didn’t want him anywhere near her, let alone escorting her, touching her. And even worse, she was about to promise to be in Simon’s family for the rest of her life.
“Nope, can’t do it.” She glanced at her own reflection and in a burst of fury ripped her veil off her face. Then, blowing a stray auburn lock from her forehead, she gathered up the skirt of the voluminous gown in both arms.
“Have to hurry,” she muttered, giving herself the impetus she needed to make a break for it before it was too late. If she didn’t leave now, she’d be married into the most awful family she’d ever known.
“Not going to happen,” she reassured herself as she tentatively opened the door and peered out.
Thankfully, there was no one in this section of the TCC. They were all in the main room, waiting for the ceremony to start. In the distance, she heard the soft thrum of harp music playing as an underscore to the rise and fall of conversations. She could only guess what they’d all be talking about soon.
That wasn’t her problem, though. Clutching her wedding gown high enough to keep it out of her way, she hurried down the hall and toward the nearest exit.
She thought she heard someone calling her name, but Shelby didn’t let that stop her. She hit the front door and started running. It was blind panic that kept her moving. After all, she had nowhere to go. She didn’t know hardly anyone in Royal besides the Goodman family. But she kept moving because the unknown was wildly better than the alternative.
Her veil caught on one of the porch posts and yanked her back briefly. But Shelby ripped the stupid thing off her head, tiara and all, and tossed it to the ground. Then she was off again, tearing around a corner and running smack into a brick wall.
Well, that’s what it felt like.
A tall, gorgeous brick wall who grabbed her upper arms to steady her, then smiled down at her with humor in his eyes. He had enough sex appeal to light up the city of Houston and the heat from his hands, sliding down her body, made everything inside her jolt into life.
“Aren’t you headed the wrong way?” he asked, and the soft drawl in his deep voice awakened a single thought in her mind.
Oh, boy.
Copyright © 2018 by Harlequin Books S.A.
ISBN-13: 9781488092213
Keeping Secrets
Copyright © 2018 by Fiona Gillibrand
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental. This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
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