He looked up into her sweet, blue eyes, his stomach churning. He’d been deceived by her appearance for a long time. He hadn’t talked to his brother too much about it after the night they’d fought about her, but Clay had been deceived, too.
Angela’s family was very concerned about appearances. It reminded Boone of the whited sepulchers that Jesus had spoken of in scriptures.
The outside looked good, and a lot of people were fooled.
He’d been one of them.
It wasn’t his proudest moment, and he was going to get to face it with his wife watching.
“Thought you got married.” There was no ring on the fingers that gripped his arm. He noticed that, but more disturbing to him was the stiffness of his wife’s position. She hadn’t moved other than that slight tilt of her head. A sure sign she was putting her nose in the air and wrapping her East Coast high society social status around her like a shield. He hated that she was doing it against him.
“It didn’t work out.” Angela’s jaw tightened. The only sign he could see that there had been something significant going on. He wasn’t sure what had kept her from getting married or what had brought her to Sweet Water and working in the diner, but he couldn’t even admit to more than a mild curiosity.
He wished she’d leave. He glanced at Roxane. Her face was a mask of social politeness. It didn’t surprise him. She’d obviously picked up on the undercurrents.
“I want to talk to you.” Angela, too, glanced at Roxane, almost giving the impression that she was conspiring with Boone about needing privacy.
He had no desire to talk to Angela. They had nothing to say to each other.
Roxane slapped her hands down on the table. “Well, you two can talk. I’m going to the ladies’ room.” She slid to the edge of her seat.
Boone wanted to get out and walk with her. Maybe he’d have a chance to explain what was happening and ease the hard shell that had settled over her face. But Angela’s hand was still on his arm. He couldn’t get out without pushing into her.
“Wait,” he said, not liking the desperation in his voice but not wanting Roxane to leave.
She lifted a brow at him.
“Please,” he said, softer.
She didn’t say anything but stopped at the edge of her seat, not sliding back, like she was giving him just a few moments.
“We don’t have anything to talk about, Angela.” He looked at the woman who projected innocence and sweetness. He wouldn’t call her family money-grubbers. It was more about projecting the right visuals, maybe even conniving to make other people look bad to make themselves look more spiritual. Or maybe it was more just bulldozing anyone over who got in their way.
He wasn’t going to allow that to happen to Roxane, even though he knew she was perfectly capable of standing up for herself.
“I think we do.” Angela gave him a slightly superior look before looking down at Roxane. “You don’t look like the kind of woman who would allow your date to tell you what to do.” She moved, completely blocking Boone. “Go ahead and go. I just need a minute.”
“If you have something to say to me, you can say it in front of my wife.” Boone didn’t even try to make his words come out kindly.
Angela’s eyes popped open and flew to his hand. He didn’t have a ring, and neither did Roxane. On the ranch, he hadn’t been worried about it. Now, he wished he hadn’t been so oblivious. A ring was a clear sign to a woman like Angela that he was taken. He wanted the same for Roxane. She was his. And he didn’t want there to be any confusion about it. He didn’t care if that made him a Neanderthal.
“You’re married?” she said, surprise clear in her voice. “But this summer, you professed your undying love for me and begged me to marry you.”
Roxane did not make a sound. And she didn’t move. But the change in her was instant and real.
And, yeah. Angela knew exactly what she was doing. Her surprise was genuine, but everything else was completely calculated. She’d known exactly what to say to get the reaction she wanted out of Roxane. Boone couldn’t believe he’d not seen through her this summer. He’d had her so high up on a pedestal that he couldn’t see what she was really like, apparently.
Across the table, Roxane’s eyes held betrayal.
“I didn’t profess my undying love.” He knew he was quibbling over details, but the look on his wife’s face made breathing difficult. Like his ribs were broken.
“You begged me to marry you.” She gave him a soft smile.
“You said no, and I walked away. Now I’m married to someone else. If you have anything else to say to me, you can say it in front of my wife.” He was being harsh, but he didn’t think she’d respond to any other action.
“Some other time.” Roxane stood.
Boone slid to the edge of his seat, not sure what he’d do if Angela didn’t step back. But she did. At the same time, she took her hand from his arm.
“I thought you were better than that, Boone,” she said softly, like he’d hurt her.
Maybe he had. He couldn’t really tell. But it seemed like he had a choice between hurting her and hurting his wife. Roxane was his first interest and always would be. He moved to her side, wanting to take her hand but not sure she wouldn’t slap him away.
He decided he’d take the chance. And more. He put his arm around her.
She was stiff, but she allowed him to pull her close. Treating him better than he deserved, probably.
She didn’t say anything to him but started for the door of the diner. On the way out, they passed Sawyer and Georgia Olson from one of the neighboring ranches. Georgia, her hair as wild as always and seeming even smaller next to her large husband, looked like she had a beach ball under her shirt.
It wasn’t something Boone would normally notice, but his eye and thoughts were drawn to the baby she carried because his wife would soon look similar. The thought made him feel good in a way that was hard to explain.
He shook Sawyer’s hand and exchanged some comments on the weather and the price of beef and farming in general as his wife chatted with Georgia and set up a time to get together. He was happy about that. He thought she liked it in North Dakota, but it had to be a lot different than she was used to. He didn’t want her to be bored and restless. She’d been putting all her energy into the Thanksgiving meal, but once that was over, he wasn’t sure what direction she’d want to go. Hopefully not east.
They didn’t chat for long, and soon he was opening the door for Roxane to climb into his truck. She didn’t look at him, and she didn’t say anything.
He closed the door and walked around, knowing this wasn’t something that should cause a wedge between them but knowing it could if he didn’t handle it right. He should have told her. She shouldn’t have found out in a restaurant from the woman he proposed to.
He could joke, and he could take things in stride, but he wasn’t great at explaining himself, and he’d never been good with smooth words.
Chapter 16
Roxane stared at the dash, feeling like she was reeling. Boone had asked that woman to marry him just this summer. It couldn’t have been long before Clay’s wedding. Which, of course, made her wonder if what had happened at Clay’s wedding had anything to do with his broken heart and a rebound relationship or whatever one wanted to call it.
Angela had been fair and pretty and perfect and everything Roxane would have thought Boone would want in a woman.
Still, he didn’t seem heartbroken, and he didn’t seem tempted, but her rational thoughts hadn’t been able to get her emotional chaos under control. It didn’t take much to upset her stomach nowadays, and it felt like she’d swallowed a bottle of glue, cramping and sticky.
Boone started the truck and pulled out without saying anything, pointing it in the direction of home and driving like he always did, methodically, with no outward sign of anger or distress. If he were upset that he’d not gotten food or that she’d aborted their date, he didn’t show it.
He wasn’t joking, either, though. And that was unusual.
Sweet Water Ranch wasn’t far, but before they got there, he turned off onto a dirt road that led between two fields with different lengths of a cover crop growing. She thought the fields belonged to Sweet Water Ranch, but honestly, she wasn’t sure.
He drove slowly down the dirt path for what felt like a long time. She had no clue where they were, but she trusted Boone with all her heart.
Which is one of the reasons she knew, even if he did still have feelings for the blond, he would never act on them. But there was something in her heart that rebelled at having her husband stay true because he had to rather than wanted to. Maybe it was her feminine vanity that was offended.
Either way, she recognized her childishness but hadn’t quite gotten a handle on it by the time he stopped.
His hands stayed together on top of the steering wheel, and he kept his face forward. His chest went in and out twice before he spoke.
“I’m sorry about that.”
She swallowed and looked away, not sure she was ready to have a mature conversation about it yet.
“I have a blanket in my blizzard kit behind the seat. I was hoping I could lay it out on the ground, and you’d sit with me for a bit.” He blew a long breath out his nose and finally looked over at her.
She pulled her lips in, knowing he hadn’t done anything wrong, feeling bad because he obviously felt like he did, but unable to force the words out of her mouth that would ease his burden. Whatever happened in his past wasn’t up for her to judge...except, everyone—herself and Boone included—would be fools to dismiss the past because the future was predicated upon it.
Still, there were a lot of things in her past that Boone had overlooked, whether they indicated a deficiency in her character or not.
“I will,” she said, opening her door before he told her to wait, that he would get it. She appreciated the consideration, and loved what it said about his values and character, but just wasn’t ready to give in.
He spread the blanket out on her side of the truck, ten feet or so into the field. “This rye is high enough that it will make an almost comfortable cushion.”
She bent, helping to pull out a corner before stepping on the edge. She sat down, dividing the blanket up into two imaginary sides and sitting well to the edge of hers.
“I actually had two blankets.” He held another up, shaking it out and arranging it around her shoulders.
“Thanks.”
He wasn’t being considerate to butter her up. This was the way he always was.
He sprawled out beside her, on his back, tucking both hands under his head and staring up. “The most beautiful night sky that I’ve ever seen is here in North Dakota.”
She couldn’t disagree. “I guess you’d know.”
There was no moon, but she could see his throat work. “I told you where I’ve been. I haven’t deliberately hidden anything.”
“You just neglected to mention Angela.”
“You never talk about Bryan.”
“That’s because he’s a jerk.”
“That you were married to. That you have a child with. You made vows with him—”
“He broke them! Not just once but over and over. There’s nothing to say, other than I wouldn’t be upset to never see him again.”
He pushed up on his elbows and turned toward her. “I know all that. And I believe it. But there’s a lot of stuff I don’t know. If he came tomorrow, you and he could talk for hours about things I’ve never heard of. And you can’t tell me there weren’t good times.” He seemed to search her face in the darkness. She studied his eyes before turning and looking up at the brightness of the stars.
“You’re right. There were.”
He didn’t push his advantage, making her feel like it wasn’t a fight. “I’m sorry I didn’t mention Angela. My brother wrote to her for years. Her parents wouldn’t let him do any more than just look at her from a safe distance. You don’t know Clay well, but that’s all he needed. He’d set his mind, and he was willing to wait, to follow the rules. I admired Angela, but because I love Clay, I would never have said anything.” He turned his face back to the stars. “She looks good from a distance.”
A smile hovered around Roxane’s mouth. He didn’t have to mention Angela and her similarity to the stars. Looked good from a distance, but she wouldn’t want to touch one. She laughed a little, and when he turned his head, he was smiling too. They grinned at their shared joke.
She moved the blanket from her shoulders and lay back on her elbows, imitating his position but not touching him.
The tension had eased between them—funny how laughing together did that—but he still hadn’t gotten to the part she wanted to hear.
She didn’t have the patience to wait. “And?”
“Then Reina entered the picture, and I guess Clay realized which one was real and which one wasn’t.” He shook his head a little. “Please don’t misunderstand. I know you can look like Angela does and be good on the inside too. She’s just not.”
“Where do you come in?” She felt like if she just waited, he’d tell her. Waiting had never been something she was good at.
His shoulders moved like it was obvious. “I was still blinded. I thought Clay was not treating her well.” He moved again, rolling to his side, facing her with his head propped in his hand. Not speaking for a moment, as though gathering his thoughts, he finally opened his mouth. “Clay and I actually fought over it. I fought. Clay understood what I was going through because he’d done the same thing. I wouldn’t tell this to just anyone, but Angela’s family needed money, and Clay could have given it to her. I was angry that he was choosing Reina instead. When I spoke with Angela after Clay and I had words, that’s when I asked...begged her to choose me.” He closed his mouth, and his lip twisted back, as though he was frustrated with himself.
“She laughed a little, like the idea of her and I was something she would never consider.” He lifted a shoulder. “She said some things that made me realize that it was all about looks.” He snorted. “And at that point, money talked, too. And I didn’t have what it took.”
He rolled back over and put his hands behind his head, looking at the stars, although she doubted he was seeing them.
“I’m not carrying a torch for her. I don’t know what she wanted tonight. I don’t care. Not even curious.” He turned his head without moving the rest of his body. “And that’s the truth.”
She believed it. Except...
“Is that how you felt at Clay’s wedding?” Her voice sounded as thready as the lone cricket that had somehow lived through the frost and freezes of the cool fall nights and chirped not far from where they lay.
His head turned. His brows furrowed, like he was trying to figure out where in the world she was going with that question. His mouth was opened a little, and she could almost see his brain working, going back through the things that had happened, and trying to figure out what Angela had to do with any of it.
Her fears that he’d been thinking of Angela that day eased.
He rolled again, this time coming within a few inches of her as he lay on his side with his head propped in his hand. He used one finger to touch the track of the tear that she’d not even realized had come out of her eye.
“I don’t understand. Help me.” His hand cupped her cheek then smoothed along her jawline like he couldn’t stop touching her. He dragged it away, resting it on the blanket between them.
“I thought you might have been still thinking of her. I thought maybe that’s why you allowed me to persuade you to...” She turned her head away.
His hand came back, landing softly on her cheek. “No.” His lips touched her forehead. “No.” They brushed against her skin, his whispered word floating between them.
She closed her eyes, knowing he was speaking the truth.
His lips moved again, and she shivered.
“You’re cold?” he asked softly.
; “Yes.” It wasn’t quite the truth, but he reacted the way she’d known he would, sliding closer and putting his arm around her. She rested her head on his bicep.
“Better?”
“Yes.” Everything was better. Maybe she was more emotional because of the baby. She didn’t usually need to be reassured. Or maybe she just cared more.
More than likely, she was falling in love with her husband, and she was worried that he might not feel the same. He was honest and open, and if he loved her, she was pretty sure he wouldn’t sit around wondering whether or not he should tell her.
She turned toward him and put her arm around him, throwing one leg over his, snuggling deeper, not even pretending to be looking at the stars. But a lifetime with the man holding her was starting to look more beautiful than all the stars the heavens could hold.
IT WAS STILL DARK WHEN Boone came in from the barn the next morning. He hadn’t been able to sleep, so he’d gotten up earlier than usual and done the feeding. The cows and horses didn’t mind, and they were out in the barn right now, happily eating.
But he’d been restless.
There was plenty of work to do but not too much that could be done before daylight.
He knew Roxane wouldn’t be up.
Mrs. Sprouse wouldn’t be up, either.
He didn’t know why he was going to the house.
Yeah, he did. Because Roxane was there, and he wanted to be where she was.
He walked through the office and into the kitchen, unsure what, exactly, he was going to do, other than pace in there like he’d been doing in the barn.
As he strode past the bar, a white envelope caught his eye.
It was addressed to both of them and came from a law office. They must have missed it last night in their hurry to go out.
He picked it up and walked over to the sink, holding it under the light that stayed on all night.
Unopened.
He didn’t hesitate but tore the envelope. Maybe this was their test. He’d wondered what it was, and it was about the time the lawyer had said.
Cowboys Don't Buy Their Bride at Auction Page 14
