The Rancher's Bride

by Pamela Britton

“Even when that life throws you a curveball.”

  “Exactly.”

  He was referring to Laurel, to how Laurel was counting on him to solve all her problems. He was wishing Laurel was more independent, more like her.

  The realization would have made her feel proud but for one thing. She was so overcome with envy that she could scarcely breathe. Laurel was lucky to have him. She wished she’d had someone she could lean on. Someone that could be counted on to do the right thing.

  She wished Ryan was hers.

  Chapter Fourteen

  They seemed to make it back to the ranch in half the time. Ryan was grateful for that because being in Jorie’s presence was getting harder and harder to bear. He liked her. He was attracted to her. He wanted her.

  “Use the mounting block to get down,” he ordered when they made it back to the arena, the horses nickering in welcome.

  She didn’t say anything, just as she hadn’t said a whole lot on the way back to the ranch. Not that words needed to be said. There’d been a whole unspoken conversation after the words they’d shared by the lake.

  “Whoa,” he told his horse, slipping off in time to watch Jorie climb down from Belle—and climb was an appropriate word. Her clumsiness was something that might have made him laugh—if he hadn’t been in such a sour mood.

  “What do I do with her?” she asked.

  “Just wrap her reins around the top rail there.” His mom was nowhere to be seen which meant she was probably up in the office, answering phone calls and tending to the business that Ryan knew would drive him more and more crazy as time went on.

  Sod in the west pasture. And irrigation to water that sod. And vines. Oh, and let’s not forget the trellis.

  “Thanks for the ride,” she said.

  He didn’t answer, just went about his business, which must have suited her just fine. When he looked up from ungirthing his horse, she was gone.

  Thank God.

  He’d wanted to touch her out there by the lake. Wanted to pull her into his arms and tell her how much he admired her fortitude. Except he couldn’t, and it wasn’t because of his engagement to Laurel. Even if he wasn’t engaged he’d give a woman like Jorie a wide berth. They weren’t the settling down type and he needed a woman that would be a partner, a woman like Laurel, as mismatched as they were. That’s probably why he’d agreed to marry her. Laurel knew the deal. She knew what it meant to be a rancher’s wife. Jorie would never be happy stuck in Texas on the ranch. This was a temporary stop for her, no doubt about it.

  “The last time I saw you look so grim, hay prices had climbed to twenty-three dollars a bale.”

  He paused with his hands on the saddle, having just about jumped out of his skin. “Mom, I’m beginning to think you like to scare the crap out of me.”

  “I didn’t mean to sneak up on you, son,” she said admonishingly. “You were so deep in thought I doubt you’d have heard a tractor.”

  He pulled the saddle off his horse, which is what he’d been about to do when she’d walked up and startled him.

  “I’m trying to get these horses untacked if you hadn’t noticed.”

  “Why don’t I untack Belle for you?”

  “Because I can do it.” He hefted the saddle into his arms, heading toward the tack stall. He wasn’t thinking straight, which is why he opened up the door even though he knew his mom had locked the canine terrorists in there.

  “Damn it,” he shouted as first one and then another and another came piling out, so fast it was hard to tell which was which. Except for Beowulf. He lumbered along. Apparently he’d expended all his energy knocking Jorie onto her keister.

  “Why’d you let them out?” his mom called. Ryan looked down the aisle in time to see Belle’s rear end disappear into the groom stall.

  “I told you I’d untack Belle,” he yelled back.

  Jackson just about lost traction rounding the corner of the groom stall so quickly. Ryan shook his head and went to put the saddle away. When he made it back to the groom stall, he was just in time to take Belle’s saddle from his mom’s arms.

  “And I told you I’d help,” she said.

  “Don’t you have work to do or something?”

  “My, we’re in a bad mood, aren’t we?”

  He made another trip to the tack room, one of the dogs, Herbie, nearly tripping him along the way.

  “Damn dogs,” he muttered.

  His mom met him in the barn aisle.

  “You want to tell me what’s wrong?”

  “Wrong?” He played innocent. “What makes you think there’s something wrong?”

  His mom squinted up at him. She hated the fact that he was so much taller than her, but that wasn’t what made her frown up at him now.

  “You’ve been in a stinky mood since the moment Laurel came in this morning to show me her ring.”

  “No, I haven’t,” he said, picking up a brush from a box hanging on a nearby wall. He brushed at his horse’s sweat marks a little harder than was necessary, his horse tossing its head and pinning its ears in protest.

  “Did you and Laurel fight last night? Is that why I didn’t see you until this morning?”

  “I gave her a ring. What more do you want from me?”

  He winced. Sure enough, his mom pounced on the words.

  “You don’t want to marry her, do you?” And she sounded horrified. “Dear Lord, Ryan, is that what’s bothering you? Why you didn’t buy her a ring until I all but forced you into it? You are having second thoughts, aren’t you?”

  Deep breath. Do not let her see you sweat.

  But, damn it, he hated lying. Hated it more than anything he’d ever had to do in his life.

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” he said, hoping he sounded convincing. “Of course I want to marry her.”

  Silence. A horse bumped into a wall. The sound echoed through the arena.

  “You’re lying.”

  He hadn’t looked in her direction on purpose, hadn’t wanted his mom to look into his eyes. Ever since he was three years old she’d been able to tell when he was lying. She’d be able to tell now if he dared to look in her direction.

  “I’m not lying.”

  Yes, you are.

  “I’m just busy. The last thing I needed to do was take Jorie on a trail ride.”

  His mom ducked under the cross ties that held the horse in place. He saw her do it out of the corner of his eye, felt panic set in when he realized she was going to force him to look at her.

  “Ryan Clayborne, you answer my question right now.”

  “What question?”

  She stepped in front of him, grabbed him by the shoulders, something that wasn’t easy to do given their difference in height.

  “Are you in love with Laurel?”

  He didn’t want to look down at her, but he knew if he didn’t his mom would take that as an answer.

  “Of course I am,” he said. And he meant it. He really did love Laurel…as a sister.

  Whatever she saw in his eyes, it must have reassured her because she let him go. She didn’t look satisfied though. She looked worried.

  “Is it the marriage thing? The ‘till death do you part?’”

  “Mom,” he said, and this time he was the one to gently clutch her arm, although only with one hand. “You’re worrying about nothing. Just do me a favor, will you? Concentrate on the wedding.”

  She held his gaze, eyes so like his own staring up at him unblinkingly.

  “I was thinking the spot you picked out with Jorie today would be perfect.”

  His hands fell to his side. “Are you crazy? It’ll take weeks to do what needs to be done out there.”

  “I’ll hire a crew. And a contractor to cut us a road. I might have some trouble
finding us a team of horses, but we can use a tractor to pull people along, worst case.”

  “We’ll need at least two teams to get all our guests out there.”

  “Speaking of which, Jorie needs Laurel’s guest list. She wants invitations to go out this week. She’s worried we’re not giving people enough time to RSVP.”

  He went back to grooming his horse, thankful he’d distracted her with talk of the wedding.

  “I’ll tell Laurel to call Jorie.”

  “And you? Is there anyone in particular you want to invite?”

  “Nope.”

  “No one?”

  “I’m going to leave it up to you.” He shot his mom a smile meant to throw her off the scent even more. She was back to studying him closely.

  “What about the wedding party? Who’s going to be your best man?”

  He hadn’t given it a thought, but he said the first name that came to mind. “Sam.”

  “Sam, what?”

  They both turned as the man in question came into sight. “I’m ready to move those pipes out to the south pasture.”

  “Great,” Ryan said.

  “Now, what’s this about me doing something?”

  Ryan shook his head, feeling like a putz for dragging one of his best friends into the whole charade.

  “I need you to be my best man.”

  Sam’s dark eyes seemed to darken further. “Really?”

  “Really.”

  Sam wasn’t much of an emotional man, but Ryan was pretty certain he saw a glimmer of pride in his eyes.

  “I’d be honored.”

  And for some reason, the words made Ryan feel even worse.

  His mom stepped out of the stall. “Good. That’s settled. Next I’m going to get with Laurel to find out who she plans to invite. In the interim, I’ll see what I can do about getting the lake ready in time. We might have to deal with the weather, but we can always just play it by ear, too. Have the barn ready as a backup or something.”

  She was back to smiling, her joy in planning the event evident. Ryan had to look away.

  “It’ll be beautiful, Ryan, I promise.”

  She came forward again, pulled him down so she could kiss his cheek. He felt about ten years old. Like a kid being praised for getting good grades when, in fact, he’d made a counterfeit report card.

  “It’ll be the best wedding ever.”

  He hoped for her sake it was. Ryan remembered too late that Sam was nearby and he stared right at Ryan as he frowned.

  “You care to tell me why you look so glum?”

  Ryan shook his head. “Wedding nerves.”

  Sam held his gaze. “Why do I have the feeling there’s more to it than that?”

  Because they’d known each other forever. “Come on.” He clapped Sam on the back. “Let’s move those pipes.”

  Before Sam started probing in earnest…and got the truth out of him.

  * * *

  JORIE DIDN’T SEE Ryan for nearly a week. She was grateful for that. Whether he was avoiding her or truly busy, Jorie didn’t know. Odelia said something about transporting some horses, or maybe bringing some horses back. Jorie didn’t know which. She was grateful for the break. He was about to get married. To a woman he didn’t love. What a tragedy.

  “Guess what you get to do today?” Odelia asked with a wide smile.

  Jorie could only guess. So far her days had been filled with answering phone calls, investigating other wedding venues for price comparisons, scheduling appointments, and most important of all, overseeing the design of the lakeside venue.

  “What’s that?” Jorie asked, noticing that her message light was on. Odelia had a state-of-the-art phone system. Jorie had learned she could page anyone within earshot of the ranch all with the click of a button.

  “Laurel is taking Ryan into town to register for their wedding.”

  “Register?”

  “There’s a store in town,” said Odelia excitedly, her gray hair looking mussed today. “It’s called Viola. Very trendy. Laurel wants to register there, and I’m sending you to help her out.”

  Jorie’s stomach fell toward the region of her toes.

  “Wow.” She swallowed, trying to think of a diplomatic way to extricate herself from the situation. “I’m really flattered you think she needs my help, but I have the sod contractor coming today. He needs me to mark out the edge of the lawn we want to put down. And then there’s the general contractor building the gazebo.”

  “All taken care of,” said Odelia, her smile nearly as bright as the rhinestones on her hot-pink shirt. “I’m taking care of it. I could use a day out in the sun. I’ve been spending far too much time in my office lately.”

  Because they had so much to do. Word had gotten out the Spring Hill Ranch had stepped up their game. The web redesign had gone live two days ago and the phone had been ringing off the hook. Jorie didn’t know what they’d do when they started advertising.

  “Mrs. Clayborne, please, you don’t have to take over for me. I’ll call Laurel. Tell her to go without me.”

  “No,” Odelia said sharply, so much so that Jorie found herself going still for a moment. “I specifically told Laurel you would go along.”

  She was her boss. Someone she’d come to admire. Even so, she knew when it was time to do as she was told.

  “What time do I have to meet them there?”

  “Eleven.”

  That meant she had three hours to get some work done. “What’s the name of the store again? I’ll get directions from Google.”

  Odelia’s smile was radiant. “Thank you, Jorie.” But then it faded a bit. “I don’t know what’s going on with those two. I had them over for dinner the other night and it was like being in a dentist’s office. In Ryan’s present frame of mind, I wouldn’t be surprised if he picked out dishes and linens in black.”

  Jorie looked up quickly.

  “I’m counting on you to keep them from each other’s throats.”

  “Were they arguing?” Jorie asked, and for some reason her heart was pounding.

  “You know, I wish they had been. The two of them hardly looked at each other.” Odelia pursed her lips. “I’m worried about them.”

  “I’m sure it’s just prewedding jitters.”

  Odelia shook her head. “I’ve been around enough brides and grooms to know what that looks like. This isn’t it.”

  Were they breaking up? Was Ryan regretting his decision? And why did Jorie’s heart take flight at the thought?

  “I’m sure they’ll be fine.”

  Liar. If the cracks were showing now, those cracks would turn into fissures before too long.

  “I hope you’re right.”

  “I hope so, too.”

  Liar, the little voice whispered again.

  Chapter Fifteen

  “I’m so sorry to have to drag you away from your work,” Laurel said. “I know how busy you’ve been.”

  Ryan resisted the urge to groan. He hadn’t been busy, he’d been avoiding her. That’s why he hadn’t wanted to run into town with her to pick up some things, but Lyle had insisted.

  He hit the brakes a little too hard as he pulled to a stop in front of Viola. “Sorry,” he muttered.

  What happened to their friendship? Dinner the other night had been painful. He was almost certain his mother had put two and two together.

  “I actually have a confession to make.” Laurel glanced over at him. “We didn’t come to town to pick something up for my dad.”

  “We didn’t?”

  “We’re here to register for our wedding.”

  He shut off the engine, but the silence that settled around them seemed to have more to do with what remained unspoken than the quiet of the
motor.

  “I know you said no, that it wasn’t necessary, but your mom talked to my dad and the two of them decided it needed to be done. Only I knew you wouldn’t want to do it and so I just made up the excuse of having to go into town. Your mom knows, though.”

  “Laurel—”

  “She insisted Jorie meet us here to help us out.”

  Jorie.

  “I hope you don’t mind.”

  Mind? Of course he didn’t mind. This was yet one more nail in his coffin. Why should he mind?

  “If it’s any consolation, I don’t want to do this any more than you do,” Laurel said, opening her door and slipping outside before Ryan could say another word. He rested his hands on the steering wheel, watching as she crossed to the front of his truck, sunlight reflecting off his black paint job.

  “Son of a—”

  He hadn’t wanted to register for a reason. Registering meant wedding gifts—gifts they might have to return if they didn’t go through with this, but that was looking less and less likely.

  “Shit.”

  Reluctantly, feeling as if he suddenly weighed fifty tons, he slipped out of the truck, the Texas humidity back in full force after last week’s rain. It was back to smelling like asphalt and old tires. He hated that smell. City smell.

  “There she is,” Laurel announced.

  He didn’t want to look in her direction. He really didn’t. Ever since their trail ride he’d been thinking about her. Thinking about her too much.

  “Hey,” Jorie called as she walked up to them.

  Against his better judgment he looked into her eyes, struck once again by their beauty. She wore an ivory-colored blouse—a color she was fond of, he suddenly realized—one that shimmered when she walked and set her skin aglow. One of her long, shapely legs peeked out at him thanks to a thigh-high slit in the ankle-length, beige skirt that she wore. She looked as elegant and chic as a politician’s wife, but he knew it was all just an act.

  Funny. He couldn’t have said what Laurel was wearing today without looking.

  “Sorry I’m late,” Jorie said, shooting Laurel a smile.

  “We just got here, too.” Laurel turned, hooked an arm through his own. “No worries.”