At this point, Roxie was fairly certain whoever it was wasn’t there to hurt her and didn’t realize she was in the church. She’d parked her car in the lot behind the church. He might have walked in from the sidewalk. She hadn’t heard a motor.
Her nausea returned along with a sharp pain in her stomach.
She might as well tell them she was here. She took a deep breath. A familiar scent tracked into her lungs. Before she processed why it was familiar, she spoke. “I just want to let you know you’re not alone here.”
The person had jerked when she started speaking. They jerked again before she finished.
Two seconds ticked by. Then it hit her, like a subway train, why that scent was familiar. She gasped.
The cowboy from Clay’s wedding. Or someone else who smelled like the North Dakota sky and wind and a strength that had nothing to do with physical muscles. Spicy and warm. Totally unique.
Her stomach churned, this time for a completely different reason.
“I tried to figure out where I might find you. This wasn’t exactly my first guess.” The cowboy’s voice was just the way she remembered. Warm and rugged with just a little bit of humor.
Well, she’d needed to make a decision. She’d come to the church, not exactly saying a formal prayer, but God had heard the crying of her heart, apparently. Now she just needed a sign as to what she needed to do.
“I guess you’re saying I don’t belong here.” If he were one of those men who held women to a higher standard than men, that was sign enough for her. She’d already been married to Bryan. She didn’t need another mistake like that.
“No less than me.” His voice was easy, but there was a note of guilt there that eased her mind a little.
There was a small pause. Then he spoke again. “You said you were getting married.”
“Yes. Tomorrow.”
He didn’t move, but she could feel the shift in him.
Maybe she should have exposed the doubt and fear in her heart. Maybe she should have trusted him with her insecurity and the confusion she felt. Maybe she should have told him that she wanted to do the best thing for her son, but she just wasn’t sure what that was anymore.
But what did she expect would happen if she did that? That he’d jump up and pledge his undying love and devotion? That he’d say he couldn’t stop thinking about her and would do anything to have a chance with her?
Hardly.
She’d be happy with an offer to date and be like a normal couple and maybe have a chance to fall for a man who looked at her as more than the woman who came with the ranch and maybe, for once, feel like she might end up with someone she could trust to not walk over her heart but hold it safe, like a precious treasure.
She supposed that was just a dream for fairy tales. And she wasn’t about to risk opening her heart. After all, she couldn’t stop thinking about him, but he was obviously around here and hadn’t looked her up.
Her heart begged her to believe differently. Maybe he’d come back to try to find her.
She could find out. She’d never been shy.
“Are you from around here?” Her voice sounded normal to her. Since she didn’t normally do what she’d done with him, she wasn’t sure exactly what the correct way to act afterwards was.
He didn’t answer quickly. She liked that. He seemed like a man who weighed his words and only said the true ones.
“I owned a ranch just north of here. My buddy just bought it, and I’ll be bidding on the Sweet Water Ranch tomorrow.”
Her stomach, still feeling a little nauseous, dropped like the ball on New Year’s—slow but unstopping. The rest of her body froze.
He sighed. “I probably don’t have enough money to even touch it, but I can’t not try.”
He was another one of those guys—the ones who wanted the ranch and would marry a stranger for it.
Again her heart wanted to butt in, to say that this could be a good thing, that she’d wanted a man like this to bid.
But anger rose in her chest. He’d asked if she were still getting married, but he was planning to as well. And it hadn’t been that long ago that he’d been with a stranger in a supply closet, even though he knew he might be getting married in a couple of weeks.
He didn’t even realize he had marginalized her, with her, but that didn’t stop the anger from making her throat hot, like a stove pipe.
Of course, she’d done the same thing. And she’d been the one to suggest it. To take his no and change his mind.
Her righteous anger deflated.
She was just looking for an excuse to be angry, she supposed, when the person she should be angry at was really herself.
“I don’t usually do those kinds of things.” His voice came out of the darkness more uncertain than it’d been.
“I could tell.”
Oh, she shouldn’t have said that. She knew it, too. Could feel him stiffen and pull away at her implied insult. But she allowed the words out, and even as they hung there, she wasn’t sure she wanted to take them back.
She hadn’t really meant to kick him. But she’d known he’d take it that way. And she wasn’t going to explain. It was probably a result of her being hurt and wanting to lash out and hurt him, too.
His swallow echoed in the quiet church interior. “I’ve wanted to apologize. I...I am apologizing. I’m sorry. You deserved more respect than what I showed.”
She flipped her hair over her shoulder, an unconscious gesture that bolstered her courage. “No need to apologize. You know as well as I do that I instigated it. You respected me by doing what I wanted.”
“No.”
His disagreement settled between them.
Honestly, she liked his idea better. It was right, based on laws given by their Creator. Her opinion was based on the norms of the culture around them. Shifty things at best.
Maybe she leaned on the Rock, while he seemed planted in it.
Her way was easier. Less guilt. Fewer restrictions. But it was a fake freedom that saw her ending up bound by guilt and shame. And she’d imposed that on him, too, because she’d led him into sin, just as surely as Eve had handed Adam the fruit.
It might have been eight thousand years ago, but Boone and Adam had a lot of things in common.
“I’m the one that owes you an apology.” She wrung her hands together, grateful he couldn’t see in the dark. “And...I’m sorry. I...used you. I...had a lot of pressure in my life, and I knew you could relieve that for an hour or so.”
Again, she’d hurt him with her words, with her apology. Because it wasn’t the whole truth. And the negative implications were loud and clear.
The air around him shifted again. She wouldn’t have been surprised if he’d gotten up and walked out. Maybe that’s what she wanted. Or maybe she just wanted to get him back because he’d turned out to be like everyone else who didn’t care about the woman as long as they got the ranch.
Although, if he’d even been out to see the ranch, she’d missed it. Just as well. She might have found a gun and beaten him over the head with it.
He seemed to shift closer. “If I could take it back, I would. Just because I know it was something I shouldn’t have done.” He took a breath. “I almost wish... No. I wish I could have been better, less obviously inexperienced, less green, I guess. Because, even if you were using me, you were beautiful and amazing, and I wish I could have been for you what you were for me.”
He shifted, standing. “I hope you have a nice wedding and a happy forever. Your husband is a fortunate man.”
With a swirl of air, he was gone, leaving only his scent behind.
Her chest felt tight, and if she were a crying kind of person, she might have shed a few tears. She felt like it. But her stomach wobbled and swayed until she finally got up and went out and threw up in the bushes again.
Chapter 5
Saturday evening, Boone flew along the highway, no destination in mind. His chest didn’t burn anymore from the woman’s barely veiled
insults in the church last night.
She’d basically said she hadn’t been attracted to him; she’d just been using him, and he hadn’t been any good anyway.
He’d been so consumed with guilt he’d never thought he’d been so bad she might have realized it was something he’d never done before.
Showed what he knew. He’d thought she’d been just as enraptured and mesmerized as him. Right. She’d just been using him. Probably planning to redecorate her dining room. Hopefully she hadn’t been planning her wedding. Maybe she had. He was obviously no judge of women. First Angela, who’d been after his brother’s money, now this woman, with whom he’d been as intimate as two humans could be and whose name he didn’t even know.
A road sign flew by for an exit. He didn’t even know which exit it was. Heck, he didn’t even know if he were still in North Dakota.
Normally he’d be out on the ranch, beating fence posts in the ground or using a shovel to dig a hole for something, but since it was going to be Abner’s, he didn’t feel he had the right to take his frustration out doing something banal but brutally hard.
So he’d been driving. On an interstate somewhere. Embarrassed that he’d been played the fool by that woman. Frustrated that, despite what she’d said, he still had to stop himself from praying that she didn’t go through with her wedding today. Angry that he’d managed to pick out another woman who wasn’t what she seemed.
He’d said what he had about the ranch and the auction last night because after he heard that she was getting married today, he didn’t want her thinking he was wandering around, pining for her. Even if that’s exactly what he’d been doing. He’d been going to go into the church, pray about it, and then call his mom and find out the woman’s name.
His phone rang. He almost didn’t even move to look at it. He sure didn’t feel like being civil to anyone right now.
But it might be his mom. His younger brothers were old enough to shoulder most of the responsibility of taking care of her and their small farm, but he still contributed money. Clay probably did too, as well as the rest of his brothers. Except Wilder. No one knew where Wilder was.
Only the thought that his mom might need him compelled him to reach across the seat and grab it from where he threw it.
His sister, Lark.
Okay, he’d do anything for his sisters, but especially Lark, who was only eighteen.
There was no hands-free in the old farm truck he drove—he usually drove one of Clay’s harvest company trucks around and didn’t have a nice truck of his own. He’d saved all his money and used it to buy the ranch that he’d sold to Abner.
He finally got the phone swiped. “Yeah.”
“Why, Boone. You sound so happy and cheerful. I hardly recognized you.”
She definitely lived up to her name. He’d never met a more bubbly, happy person. His lip tugged up. It was almost impossible to be down in Lark’s presence.
“Did you want something?” Now he was being surly just because he was her older brother and it was in his job description to give her a hard time. “Or am I just the unlucky dude you decided to badger and annoy today?”
“Where are you? I thought you were going to the auction, and I wanted to hang out with you, you know, in case I wanted to buy some farm machinery or something and you can give me your expert opinion.”
“That dairy dude you’re working for needs his hired help to buy him farm equipment now? Not surprising with the price of milk in the toilet.”
“Shut up and get over here and help me. Where’re you at anyway? Probably down at the food stand. Rip yourself away from the pies and come tell me which tractor to buy.”
“You’re not seriously buying a tractor?”
“I called you because I thought you were the least likely to argue with me.”
“I’m your brother. I think I get deported if I don’t argue.”
“Why don’t you try it and see?”
“Nah. It’s too cold in Canada.”
Her hearty laugh sounded over the phone. “Good one, bro. Where are you? You gonna answer me this time?”
“If you’d stop yapping long enough for me to squeeze a breath in...actually, I already told you. I don’t know.”
“Right. And I assumed you weren’t serious.”
“Serious as a brain tumor.”
“Stop being morbid. Some of us want to stay in a good mood.”
“And some of us want to stay in our bad mood. I don’t know where you get all moral and assume good moods are better than bad moods.”
“Boone.”
“All right, I’ll help you out.”
“Great! Bring me a piece of pie. I make better decisions when I’m eating sugar.”
“I’m not there.”
“I know you’re not here. I’m here, and I can see that you’re not.”
“I’m here, and I can tell that I’m not there, but I’m not sure where here is, except I know it’s a long ways from there, so I’m not going to be there, with or without pie, which is here to you.”
“Boone.” She sighed, a long-suffering sigh. Man, he loved his sisters. “Would you just help me figure out which tractor to buy?”
“Sure will.”
“Thank you.” She sounded relieved.
“None of them.”
“Aargh!”
“Is that all you wanted?” Funny, but the conversation with Lark had lifted his bad mood.
“I’m buying a tractor. With or without your help.”
“Seriously, sis...” He’d managed to get the map app up on his phone. “I’m in the middle of South Dakota right now, heading south. I can turn around at the next exit, but I doubt I’ll be there in time to be much help with the tractor, but if you save me a couple pieces of pie, I’ll do my best to help you out there.”
“I can’t believe I grew up with hair.”
He snorted.
“I’d ask what you’re doing in South Dakota, but I’m afraid your explanation would either degenerate into a here-and-there type discussion, or you’d be sidetracked by walking hamburgers.”
“I actually am passing a field full of black Angus. I should stop for a burger. Great idea. Thanks.”
“Yeah, like I said, total inability to concentrate. Never mind. I wanted the tractor to be a surprise for Jeb, but I’ll just get him to help me.”
“Wait.” Boone slowed down for the exit, all joking gone. “You’re buying a tractor...for...Jeb?”
“That’s right,” Lark said cheerfully, completely ignoring the warning in his tone.
“That man is older than me. At least thirty.”
“He’s turning thirty next week. Hence the tractor.”
“Hence the tractor? You don’t buy men tractors for their birthdays. Not unless...”
“Oh. I think I see a piece of pie. Or maybe that’s cheesecake. Maybe it’s pie, cheesecake, and a hamburger. That’s there. I’m here. You’re somewhere or nowhere, and no one knows where that is. So, when you find yourself, tell yourself I said goodbye.”
She hung up.
Oh, boy. He’d been angry that the dairyman had seemed to bewitch his little sister to the point where she was, apparently, spending her savings on him. But upon further reflection, he thought with a bemused smile, maybe he should pity the dairyman instead.
There were no vehicles behind him, so when he reached the stop sign at the end of the ramp, he programmed the GPS of his phone for Sweet Water. Six hours away.
The auction would probably be over when he got there.
Still, somehow he could see with clarity now. Why couldn’t he see this last night?
Probably because he’d been too wounded by her insults, which he deserved. But they’d blinded them to the bigger conclusion. Which was, of course, that he’d done what Abner had suggested. He’d talked to her. He’d found out she had only been using him and, most importantly, that she was getting married, probably already had gotten married.
There was no reason why he co
uldn’t commit fully to Sweet Water and to the woman, whoever she was, that the winning bidder had to marry.
He could do it.
If he got there in time.
ROXIE WIPED THE SWEAT from her forehead and brushed her hands off on her jeans. She’d gotten the tables set up where people could sit and eat their refreshments and benches up where the majority of the auction would take place. Bill was parking cars that were arriving early, since the auction wasn’t slated to start until six and it was only three.
She thought she’d have time for a nap and a shower. She wasn’t much of a drinker, but she kind of wished she had something other than cold medicine that might give her a little relief from the unending anxiety that soured her stomach. She’d only thrown up once, though, which she thought was a win. Her breakfast had basically bounced out of her stomach and into the kitchen garbage can. She’d skipped lunch, so there had been no food to bounce. She’d been too busy to think about food anyway.
She pulled the back door open and stepped wearily through the office and into the cool, blessedly empty kitchen. Her face was hot and flushed, and her body weary.
She was thirsty but too tired to get a drink. Instead, she lay her cheek on the cool countertop and stared at the calendar on the far wall. A pretty scene that befitted a farm kitchen was up for September on the calendar. A duck leading her ducklings through green grass with a shining pond in the background. Peaceful and sweet.
Roxie closed her eyes.
They popped back open. Wide. Her body had stiffened, but her brain scrambled furiously. Today was the twenty-eighth of September.
She did some quick calculations before pulling her cheek off the counter. It was a little sweaty and stuck, coming up with a smooth tearing sound. She barely noticed, not taking her eyes off the calendar as she walked toward it, her hand out.
Clay’s wedding had been two weeks ago on September 14th.
She tore the top page down, hiding the duck and her brood and exposing the month of August. Her mind whirled, but the fact was there.
She was late.
She swore. One whispered word that hung in the silence of the kitchen like vapor from the Grim Reaper.
Cowboys Don't Buy Their Bride at Auction Page 4
