Cowboys Don't Buy Their Bride at Auction

by Jessie Gussman

  She could try.

  Chapter 19

  Boone walked in, bone weary and wet.

  His spirit was good, though. He thought that Roxane might be finally coming around. He hoped so. He’d been lonely without her, hadn’t realized how much he’d come to enjoy having her around. Smiling with her. Working. Laughing. Everything was better with his wife beside him.

  It could simply have been having company while he worked, but he knew that wasn’t quite it. After all, he’d spent years working with his brothers and best friends, and he’d never looked forward to seeing them like he did Roxane.

  But it was Angela’s visit today that had shown him for real what was going on.

  He’d been dismayed to see her. Annoyed that he had to spend time with her and eager to get away from her. If he’d ended up married to her—and he was relieved beyond words that he’d escaped such a fate—he would have figured something out. But it had made him think.

  Not long. It hadn’t taken much thinking to realize he was in love with his wife.

  He wanted to tell her.

  Maybe she didn’t return his feelings, but that was a chance he’d take. She needed to know where he stood.

  He walked on his stocking feet through the dark and quiet kitchen. Tomorrow, no, later today, since it was almost one a.m., it would be bustling, but tonight, it was still, although it smelled amazing.

  He’d sent Spencer to bed around eleven. He supposed it was too much to hope for that Roxane was still up. They probably wouldn’t have time to talk in the morning. Things would be busy and crazy.

  He had his foot on the bottom step when he realized there was music playing, soft and low. Classical music.

  A familiar tune. He tilted his head, a bemused smile stretching his lips. One of the tunes he’d line-danced to with Roxane at Clay’s wedding.

  He pulled his foot off the step and walked slowly through the dark hall, noticing now that there was a dim light coming from the ballroom doorway.

  He stepped in. Strings of lights around the windows bathed the tables and decorations in a romantic glow. His eyes swept the room. He’d assumed at first Roxane was playing the music on purpose, but he didn’t see her.

  Until she moved from the shadows.

  His breath caught.

  Not because she was particularly beautiful, although he thought she was.

  But because of the little flirty smile that hovered around the corners of her mouth.

  He swallowed through a suddenly dry throat.

  Belatedly he got his own feet to move, meeting his wife in the center of the open floor. He couldn’t seem to find his tongue, and all the words he wanted to say flew out of his head.

  Except, “Maybe the lady would like to learn to dance?” He hoped she was recreating Clay’s wedding and that he wasn’t reading everything wrong.

  “Maybe the lady would like to teach the man to dance.”

  “Ah, Boston is back.” He could hear it in her tone and see it in her arched brow. “Maybe the fancy lady won’t be able to teach this clumsy plowboy he has anything other than two left feet.”

  Her smile shot tingles clear to his toes where they bounced around, shocking and burning, until they fired their way back up his spine and out his fingers.

  She stepped closer, taking his hand and putting it on her waist.

  “I like your way better already,” he said, humor and heat coloring his tone.

  They clasped hands, and she put her other hand on his shoulder. The steps she taught him were simple, and he caught on without too much trouble. Or maybe they were just made to be together. The music flowed around them as their bodies moved together, but Roxane didn’t relax into him.

  Several minutes went by before she spoke. “I’m sorry.”

  “That’s what this is? An apology?”

  She nodded.

  “You’re setting a pretty high bar.” His hand tightened on her waist. “You can apologize like this any time.”

  She lifted that brow.

  “But you don’t need to. Love covers a multitude of sins.”

  A wrinkle appeared between her eyes. “And that means?”

  He took a fortifying breath, spiked with her classic scent. “It’s just a Bible quote. It means...when you love someone, you overlook offenses.”

  Her eyes fluttered and then widened, searching his. He didn’t quit their slow movements, but he put both arms around her. “I love you. If you need to hear it, I forgive you, too.” He shook his head. “But I don’t see anything that needs to be forgiven. If anything, it thrills my heart to know how deeply you loved our child. You’re an amazing mother. And it’s kind of crazy how we ended up together, but these last few days apart have shown me how much I’ve missed you, how much I’ve wanted you with me, how much I...love you.”

  He quit dancing, and his hands came up to cup her face, his thumbs brushing at the corners of her eyes. “You’re leaking.”

  She snort-laughed. Through the smile and the tears, she said, “I don’t deserve you, but I love you too, you crazy man.”

  He bent his head and touched her lips with his, hot and sweet and everything that he remembered.

  She pulled back. “I know someplace we can go.” Her whisper was husky and low, and his stomach jerked and swirled.

  He put his cheek against her temple. “Are you sure?”

  She nodded.

  “I’m probably not going to be any better—”

  She put a finger over his lips. He kissed it.

  “We have the rest of our lives to practice.” She took her hands from his shoulders and held his face. “I wouldn’t want it any other way. It’s the best way.”

  He looked down into her eyes and saw the truth shining in them. It was the best way, because it was God’s way, but maybe, after the marriage she’d had, it really was the best way to heal her heart and help her trust.

  “I’m gonna trust you on that,” he said softly before he lowered his head and kissed her again.

  ROXANE FLEW AROUND the house; guests had started arriving, and she wanted to make sure everything was perfect. Boone, of course, would not be upset if the evening was a total disaster, but she wanted to give him a reason to be proud of her. Not that he wasn’t. She was pretty sure he thought the world of her, but still. She loved him, and she wanted him to have a wife who did her very best. At everything.

  Glancing out the window as she hurried by, she saw more cars pulling in. Hopefully they had enough food. It would be awful to run out, on their first—and last—Thanksgiving meal they hosted here at Sweet Water Ranch.

  The thought made her sad, so she didn’t dwell on it. She’d think about it later, when the pressure of the meal was off.

  “Hey, Boston, there you are.” Her husband wrapped his arm around her and put a gentle kiss at one of the sensitive spots he’d discovered under the angle of her jaw.

  She shivered. “We have too many people in our house for you to be kissing me there.”

  “I just wanted to be sure all your attention was on me.”

  She stopped, throwing her brain in neutral and turning to face him full-on. It wasn’t any good to have the party be a success if her husband felt neglected. “It is.”

  “Good. Can we spare a few minutes? The lawyer for the will is here. I have him waiting in the library.”

  Her stomach dropped. But she shook it off. “Sure. It won’t take long to tell him he can have the ranch and money.”

  “That’s what I thought.”

  They shared a wordless look of complete confidence before he took her hand and walked quickly to the library.

  The little man with the funny spectacles that she remembered from the night of the auction stood by the fireplace, a folder in his hand. He turned when they walked in.

  Boone shut the door. “You can sit if you want to, sir, but I don’t need this to take a bunch of time. I don’t want the ranch and I don’t want the money if it means I have to leave my wife.” Boone spoke with comp
lete assurance. His words made her heart feel warm and safe.

  “I feel the same way,” she said, not hesitating either. “I don’t want the money or the ranch. I’m staying with my husband. You can give us a date to move out. I’ll need at least two weeks.”

  The little man blinked, his eyes owllike behind the glasses on his nose. “Well, I must say that was unexpected. For me. Considering how things went at the auction.”

  Roxie wasn’t sure what to think of that. If the man thought they weren’t going to make it at the auction, he would have really thought they were over if he knew she lost the baby. The thought sent a pang through her. But it also scared her just a bit. She’d almost ruined everything.

  “Well, this is going to take a little longer than you thought.” He set his folder down on the desk and nodded at the chairs. “You two better sit down. You passed the test.”

  Epilogue

  Abner held up one of the two spoons he was holding. “Blue Jello.” He held up the other one. “Red Jello.” He put them both in his mouth, swished them around, then opened. “Purple Jello.”

  None of the ladies in attendance at the Thanksgiving meal would appreciate seeing the contents of his mouth, but the kids surrounding him at the table oohed and aahed, then grabbed their plates and headed back toward the dessert table.

  Abner grinned. He’d always loved kids. Had hoped to have a pile of his own. Hadn’t happened.

  Boone walked by, carrying two plates of dessert. Abner nodded at him as the kids straggled back with scoops of blue and red Jello on their plates. Abner couldn’t help watching as Boone set a plate down in front of his wife with a gentle touch to her cheek and a whispered word in her ear.

  Boone had told Abner they’d lost their baby, which hurt Abner’s heart. Still, his friend was obviously in love with his wife, and it wasn’t hard to see she loved him back just as fiercely.

  Abner was happy for them and really didn’t even think too much about the woman he’d never get over. Not anymore.

  His phone buzzed in his pocket, and he almost let it go. After all, everyone he loved and cared for in the world was right here in this room. The harvest crew had finished up the last job and winterized their equipment, making it to Sweet Water just in time for this meal. The boys would be heading out to their respective homes, and Luke would be traveling back to New Zealand.

  But they were all here tonight.

  It was probably a telemarketer, but Abner pulled the phone out of his pocket anyway.

  His heart pinged as he recognized the area code. Not the number. He hadn’t called or spoken with anyone from his childhood home in Ohio for almost ten years. But he’d recognize the area code from southern Ohio for the rest of his life. Childhood memories only seemed to get stronger with age.

  His whole body, led by his heart, wanted to decline the call and shove the phone back into his pocket, but his brain told him it could only be an emergency.

  Did he even want to know?

  He grinned at the kids who were looking at him with their mouths open, showing him their purple Jello, then he shoved his chair back from the table and straightened out of his seat, swiping his phone. He wasn’t going to hide from whatever it was.

  “Yeah,” he said as he pushed through the door and out into the hall that led to the patio and garden. It was cold, even more since the sun went down, but he’d welcome it, probably need it.

  “Abner?” He didn’t recognize the voice, but that wasn’t surprising.

  “Yeah.”

  “It’s Doug.”

  His half brother. He’d just been a teen when Abner left.

  Abner didn’t say anything. Waiting.

  “Gram died.” Doug didn’t try to break it gently. “I thought you’d want to know.”

  Abner’s heart clenched. No wonder it hadn’t wanted him to answer the phone. A call from his childhood area code could only mean hurt for his heart. “Thanks.”

  “Viewing’s day after tomorrow, funeral the next. I’m gonna try to be in for the funeral.” He paused. Abner didn’t try to fill the silence with useless chatter. “It would make Mom happy if you came in.” There was more silence. Some rustling came over the line, like Doug was fidgeting. “She’d really like to see you.”

  Abner held his phone to his ear, but his eyes were on the vast North Dakota night. Deep darkness. Crisp, clean air. Thousands of stars sparkling overhead and miles and miles of nothing man-made. If a fellow couldn’t lose himself out there, going home wasn’t the solution, either.

  “Think you’ll make it? I’ll tell Mom.” Doug wasn’t exactly pleading, but he was a man who loved his mother.

  “Doubt it.” If he showed up, he wasn’t going to do it with bells and whistles and a big parade. He wouldn’t want to give Cora any warning. If she were still there, in his small, rural hometown. Heck, he didn’t know. He hadn’t talked to anyone since he’d walked. And Cora was the main reason he’d left.

  No. That wasn’t really true. He’d walked because he couldn’t take the heartache. He wasn’t sure he was any more immune now. After all, if his heart had its way, he’d never have answered this call.

  “Okay. Well, I wanted to tell you.” Doug stuttered a little, like he was nervous and wanted to get away.

  Abner remembered a young boy, eager to please but neglected like Abner had been. There had been bad blood between them, and it took guts for Doug to call him now.

  Compassion, along with something else he couldn’t name, rose up in his chest, pushing his own hurt aside.

  “I appreciate your call, Doug. Glad you had my number and thought of me.”

  “I always think of you,” Doug said, not quite eagerly. “I was a jerk, and you were nice to me anyway.”

  Suddenly, curiosity hit Abner hard, right in the chest. What had he missed since he left? How were the ragged and scattered pieces of his mixed-up family? And Cora.

  He lifted his eyes to the night sky, brilliant and beautiful. More than anything, he wanted to see Cora.

  Everyone thought they’d been lovers. They hadn’t.

  No one realized she was his worst enemy. And he’d loved her anyway.

  Still did.

  Thanks for reading! To order Abner’s book, Cowboys Don’t Marry Their Enemy, click HERE.

  To receive the first twenty pages of Cowboys Don’t Marry Their Enemy before it releases on 10/29/19, sign up for Jessie’s Reader Group News, which contains weekly updates on Jessie and her books, click HERE.