“Because if you are that’s going to make the next few minutes really, really awkward.”
Ryan.
Chapter Twenty-Two
The coffeepot began to tip.
“Whoops,” Ryan said, coming forward. “Careful.”
He looked so good…so Ryan. Black cowboy hat, button-down denim shirt, soft green eyes.
“What are you doing here?”
He took the pot from her, set it down on the ham-and-egg man’s table.
“You are one hard woman to find, Jorie Peters.”
He was here. Like something out of a dream. Here.
“I’ve been looking for you for over a week.”
“Have you?”
“Do me a favor? Next time you leave town, please don’t disconnect your phone number.”
The whole thing felt weird. Fuzzy. As if it wasn’t really happening.
“I didn’t disconnect it,” she heard herself say. He looked so good, his face sporting its five o’clock shadow, his black hat emphasizing his light green eyes. So handsome.
So not hers.
“They shut it off.” She blinked. Told herself to step away. “No payment.”
“I would have paid it for you.”
She tipped her chin up. “Would that have been okay with your mom?”
“Her opinion doesn’t matter.”
She turned away, headed toward the new customer. “What can I get you?” she asked, whipping out her order book.
“A menu would be nice,” the old man said.
Jorie closed her eyes for a second. “Ah, yeah. Right.”
She turned—and ran smack into Ryan’s chest.
“Excuse me,” she said, trying to step past.
“No,” he said quickly. “You’re not running away from me again.”
She turned on him. “I didn’t run away.”
“Yes, you did. You were so utterly convinced that things weren’t going to work out, that I was going to throw you over for Laurel and my family, that you took off.”
“I took off because it was the right thing to do. What your mother asked me to do.”
“To hell with my mother.” His voice grew louder. “She wasn’t the one being asked to marry Laurel.”
“A wedding that’s still on, I heard.”
“Yes,” he said. Jorie was shocked at how badly his admission hurt. “Only there’s been a change in who’s walking down the aisle.”
“Oh, yeah? Who’d you get to marry her now? Some other spineless schmuck?”
“Spineless schmuck? Is that what you think of me?”
“You let me go.”
“Because you refused to stay.”
“You could have followed me.”
“You’re right. I could have.”
She blinked, having not expected the admission.
“I should have,” he amended, tilting his head back and scratching at his forehead. “And I’ve regretted that decision every damn day of the past week.”
Her eyes burned. She couldn’t seem to breathe, either. There was a look in his eyes, one that caused her heart to flutter.
“I love you, Jorie.”
Her eyes closed. She didn’t even realize she’d done it until she felt a hot tear escape through her lashes.
“I should have followed you.”
She felt his hands on her arms, felt him gently pull her toward him.
“I will follow you now.” His arms wrapped around her. “To the ends of the earth.”
This wasn’t really happening. This was some crazy dream brought on by serving one too many cups of coffee.
“Marry me, Jorie. Marry me this weekend, in our meadow.”
“I can’t,” she said softly. “You’re marrying Laurel. I spoke to the caterer this week. They said the wedding was still on.”
“I am getting married,” he said, hands clenching around her arms. “To you.”
She started to shake her head. “I don’t understand.”
“The wedding’s still on, Jorie. Only you’re the bride. We’ll have to go down and get a marriage certificate. Today. But I figure you won’t mind. My mom said she has a dress for you. She pulled some strings with one of her vendors. Everything else is in place. All we need. All I need, is my bride.”
More tears spilled down her cheeks.
“But what about Laurel?”
“She’s getting married, too. To Thad. They’re eloping after our wedding.”
It was all too much. She couldn’t take it. Ryan seemed to sense the sudden weakness in her legs. He pulled her into his arms. She wilted against him.
This was a dream. It had to be.
“I bought you a ring.”
She felt him shift, felt him lean back. She swayed when he let her go, reached into his pocket and pulled out a tiny box. The filigree ring he’d picked out all those weeks ago stared up at her from the box. Her hands shook. She knew that because when she covered up her gasp of surprise, she could feel her fingers trembling against her mouth.
“I got you the right one, didn’t I?”
He wasn’t marrying Laurel. He wanted to marry her.
“Jorie?”
She felt his arms wrap around her again, knew then that this was real, that he really was here—for her.
“Marry me, Jorie.”
She gasped in a breath. No. It was a sob. She was crying.
“I even fixed those damn squeaky hinges for you. I love you. I don’t know how it happened so quickly, but it did. You’re a woman unlike any other. A woman I would be proud to call my wife.”
“Oh, Ryan.”
He leaned back. Or maybe she leaned back. She didn’t know. All she knew was that she was suddenly staring into Ryan’s eyes, and he was smiling, and then leaning toward her and kissing her.
“I love you,” she said. “I thought I was going to die when I heard you were getting married.”
“To you,” he said gently. “Only to you.”
He grabbed her hand. She watched as he began to slip the ring on her finger.
“Will you marry me, Jorie Peters?”
“For God’s sake,” they heard someone say. “Would you say yes, already? I’d really like a menu.”
Jorie looked up, then smiled. “Yes,” she said. “I’ll marry you, Ryan Clayborne.”
“Well, thank God for that,” said the old man in the corner.
Epilogue
“You look beautiful.”
Jorie turned away from the mirror Odelia had tucked into the corner of her office/dressing room, hoping she was right. She wanted to be beautiful…for Ryan’s sake.
“It fits perfectly.”
Odelia came up behind her, the same look of uncertainty mixed with sadness in her eyes that Jorie had spied since she’d arrived at the ranch. “I was pretty certain of your size.”
“You guessed it perfectly.”
The dress was long and deceptively simple. There were no frills, no abundance of rhinestones or pearls, just a simple wedding dress with a tight bodice and a flared skirt that suited Jorie perfectly. She’d left her hair down long, a short veil hanging down to her shoulders.
“It’s exactly what I would have picked out for myself.”
Odelia stepped between her and the mirror. Her Western clothes were strangely absent today. Instead Odelia wore a classic silk dress, the same color as her eyes, that reached down to her ankles.
The same color as Ryan’s eyes.
“Jorie, I know I already said this, but—”
“Shh,” Jorie said softly. “There’s no need to apologize again.”
“I know, but I’m going to do it anyway.” Odelia grabbed her arms. �
��I’m a stubborn old woman, one who thought she was acting in the best interest of her son—and her family.” She looked up at her earnestly. “But I hope you know how hard it was for me to let you go.”
She wasn’t angry at Odelia. Okay, maybe she had been a little bit, but the one thing the two of them had in common was their love for her son. Jorie understood why Odelia had acted the way she had. She’d been trying to protect her son from the machinations of a woman she barely knew. She would do the same thing to protect her child. Their children. Hers and Ryan’s.
“Thank you, Odelia.”
Her hands dropped back to her side, but Jorie grabbed her hand before the older woman could move away. “I hope you know how much I’m looking forward to becoming a part of your family.”
Odelia’s lips pressed together. The woman’s eyes filled with tears. “I think part of the reason why I was forcing Ryan into Laurel’s arms was because I always wanted a daughter.”
Jorie smiled. “I know.”
Odelia clutched her hand. “Will you be that daughter, Jorie?”
It was Jorie’s turn to have her eyes fill with tears. “Of course,” she said, her voice raw with emotion.
Odelia’s hand squeezed hers again, only to release it when they both heard the clatter and jingle of a team of horses.
“They’re here.”
The carriage. The one that would take her to the meadow where she and Ryan were getting married.
“Ready?” Odelia asked, handing Jorie her bouquet of white roses and hyacinths. The scent was heavenly, the flowers so beautiful Jorie knew she would remember how the sunlight caught the dew on their petals for the rest of her life.
They set off together. Sam was waiting for Odelia at the bottom of the stairs. The ranch hand smiled.
“Ryan’s a lucky man,” he called up to her.
He was supposed to take Odelia to the meadow in the Mule, but suddenly, Jorie knew what she wanted to do.
“Ride with me,” Jorie said, pausing for a moment.
“In the carriage? Jorie, no. You’re supposed to ride by yourself.”
“Who says?”
Odelia smiled. “It’s tradition.”
“To hell with tradition.” She put an arm around Odelia’s shoulder. “Ride with me and walk me down the aisle.”
Odelia almost choked, or at least that’s what it sounded like. “Oh, Jorie, no. I couldn’t.”
“Yes,” she said firmly. “You can.” She smiled. “Ryan would want it that way if he were here for me to ask.”
“But, still—”
“I’m not taking no for an answer.”
And so that was how Jorie found herself traveling to a wedding in a white surrey drawn by two black horses, the top pulled back to expose a cloudless sky above. How she found herself clutching Ryan’s mom’s hand on her way to the meadow. How, when they arrived, she found herself being helped out of that carriage by Odelia, and then kissed on the cheek before her veil was lowered.
Odelia clutched her hands. “My son chose wisely,” Odelia said, tears in her eyes.
Drat it all, the tears she’d been so good at holding back suddenly fell. Odelia hooked her arm through Jorie’s, the two of them setting off. Jorie had yet to look at Ryan. She couldn’t bring herself to do it, was frightened that he wouldn’t be there.
But he was.
Of course he was, her tall, dark and handsome cowboy standing at the head of the aisle. Behind him the lake sparkled like scattered glitter.
Was it just a few short weeks ago that she’d been imagining her own marriage in this meadow? Wishing. Hoping. Dreaming.
She closed her eyes for a second.
Do you see that, Mom? There really is such a thing as a happy ever after.
Wedding guests Jorie scarcely knew all stood when she and Odelia paused at the end of the make-shift aisle, a runner covering the grassy surface. Wait. That wasn’t true. She knew Sam, the poor man off to the side, a look of misery on his face as he was forced to hold four leashes attached to four happy dogs, all wagging their tails as they caught sight of her. Someone—Odelia no doubt—had tied giant white bows around their necks.
“Don’t they look cute?” Odelia asked.
They actually looked mortified. “Adorable.”
“Ryan told me if you didn’t show up, I was to turn them loose on you.”
Jorie laughed. The musicians Odelia had selected began the “Wedding March.” And if the other wedding guests thought it strange that Odelia led the bride down the aisle, and that none of them really knew that bride, and that just a few days ago Ryan was set to marry Laurel, not by word or deed did they show it. When she walked forward, people smiled, especially one person in particular—Laurel was silently applauding. She clutched the arm of the man by her side, smiling up at him in a giddy happiness. This weekend Laurel, too, would be married and Jorie couldn’t be happier for her.
“You made it,” Ryan whispered as she came to a stop next to him.
“Did you think I wouldn’t?”
He lifted her veil. “I think I’m the luckiest man in the world,” he said as he caught a glimpse of her face.
Once again, tears filled Jorie’s eyes. “No,” she said. “I’m the lucky one.”
“We’re both lucky.”
And as Jorie faced forward, she knew he was right, and that she was about to become the happiest woman on earth, and that it was a happiness that would last for the rest of her life.
And it did.
* * * * *
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ISBN: 9781459230804
Copyright © 2012 by Pamela Britton
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The Rancher's Bride Page 18
