Jeremiah's Bogus Bride

by Liz Isaacson

  He knew that was his vacation brain, and that he had a ton of responsibility as the only Walker brother who seemed remotely interested at staying at Seven Sons Ranch.

  “This is incredible,” Whitney said, and Jeremiah could only agree.

  “You’re incredible,” he whispered as the tour guide moved them over to something else. He trailed behind the other four people in their group, and Whitney rewarded him with a kiss next to that amazing globe.

  “Where should we visit next?” he asked. “I heard Chicago has some amazing architecture too.”

  “That would be fun,” she said. “Seattle. I’ve always wanted to go there.”

  “I can make that happen.”

  “You can make anything happen,” she said with a smile. “I also want to go to a National Park. Yellowstone. Yosemite. Something like that.”

  “Do you like camping?”

  “Um.”

  Jeremiah chuckled, because he already knew the answer to that question. Whitney didn’t take forever in the bathroom in the morning before they left the apartment, but she wasn’t in and out either. The first morning they’d been in the city, Jeremiah had marveled at her as she’d traced that red, red lipstick over her lips.

  Then he proceeded to kiss it all off, so she had to redo it before they could go. She didn’t seem to mind, and Jeremiah was operating all on the vibes he got from her. She told him what she wanted, and he did his best to oblige.

  The tour continued, and when it ended, he asked the tour guide for the best restaurant nearby. They ended up at Bobby Flay’s restaurant, which apparently was a TV chef Jeremiah needed to watch. He liked cooking, and he figured he could expand his horizons a little bit.

  “So New York every August,” he said. “For our anniversary.”

  “Yeah?” Whitney looked at him. “You think so?”

  “Definitely. This is awesome. And there’s so much more to do we haven’t done yet.” He lifted his water to his lips. New York restaurants didn’t seem to know what sweet tea was—and their water tasted a little funny to him too. “We didn’t even go down to Brooklyn, and we go home tomorrow.”

  She groaned. “Don’t remind me. I don’t want to go back to real life.”

  Jeremiah didn’t either, but his phone flashed with a call. “It’s Wyatt. Can I?”

  “Of course.”

  He picked up the phone and swiped on the call. “Heya,” he said, Wyatt’s preferred greeting.

  “What time will you be home tomorrow?” he asked.

  “Uh, let’s see.” Jeremiah leaned back in his chair, almost dislodging a tray of drinks a waitress carried. He immediately straightened, forgetting how close together everything was in New York City. “I think we leave here at ten-thirty. So we’ll be back on the ground in Texas about noon. Home an hour after that.”

  “So we can have a family meeting tomorrow night.” He wasn’t asking, but Jeremiah agreed anyway.

  “About what?” he added.

  “I just have something to tell everyone,” Wyatt said. “See you tomorrow.”

  Jeremiah hung up and relayed the conversation to Whitney. “What do you think he has to say?”

  “Well, he’s been seeing Marcy Payne,” Whitney said. “Maybe he’s going to announce an engagement.”

  “Maybe,” Jeremiah said, but he didn’t think that was it at all.

  They finished dinner and went back to the apartment. The following day, they packed up and went to the airport, where the jet he’d borrowed waited for them. Jeremiah didn’t even ask for coffee this time; he simply took Whitney into the bedroom at the back of the plane.

  By the time they walked into the homestead at Seven Sons, everyone was there. In the middle of the day.

  “There they are,” Rhett said, jumping up to welcome Jeremiah and Whitney home. Jeremiah actually felt like he needed a nap, but he could never leave food and dishes out and go to sleep.

  The remains of lunch sat on the counter and table, and Jeremiah glanced around. “What’s going on?”

  Wyatt stood up from the couch, where he’d clearly been waiting for Jeremiah and Whitney. He winced, the pain clear on his face. He took a very pronounced, limping step. “I have some news for y’all.”

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Wyatt had been hiding his injuries from his family for far too long. When he didn’t try to, everyone saw him. Tripp actually scooted to the edge of the couch and reached for Wyatt, as if he needed someone to hold onto.

  Maybe he did.

  “I have to have another back surgery in a couple of weeks,” Wyatt said, his mouth so sticky and so dry. “I live in a state of constant pain, from knee injuries, back injuries, a separated shoulder that doesn’t play nice sometimes.”

  He cleared his throat as his brothers’ expressions turned from concerned to horrified. “I’m fine. I don’t need a bunch of pity.” That only made the injuries worse. “But I retired, because there was no way I could physically continue in the rodeo.” And it hadn’t been an easy decision, even then.

  “I don’t need to be babied. I’ve been takin’ care of myself just fine for a while. I just wanted y’all to know. I’ve already called Momma and told her. I’ll be taking a few months off at Bowman Breeds. Dalton’s going to be picking up some of my slack, and Ethan said I could come back whenever I’m able.”

  Oh, he hated those words. He hated feeling weak. He hated the way his back spasmed, almost making him fall down. He sank onto the couch next to Tripp, who simply stared at him. “There. Now you know.”

  No one said anything.

  Finally, Liam said, “What can we do, Wyatt?”

  “Nothing,” he said. “The injuries are injuries. They don’t get that much better. The doc says this next surgery is going to be the last. There’s not much more they can do for me. I go to physical therapy a few times a week, and I ice it, take painkillers, heat sometimes, whatever I can go make it through the day.”

  And he was mighty tired right now. Fighting pain was no laughing matter, and it was never easy.

  “I’m so sorry,” Callie said, the rest of the Foster sisters following suit. His brothers started talking too, about who could bring food to the homestead, and who could make sure Wyatt got to his doctor’s appointments.

  He held up his hand, and they all silenced. He liked that power, but he hated he had to be the one to share this news. “Nothing needs to change. The nurses in the hospital are like slave drivers. I’ll come home good as new. Besides, I, uh, already hired someone to look after me.”

  “Who?” Skyler demanded at the same time Rhett and Tripp did.

  “I live here,” Jeremiah said. “You don’t need to hire a nurse.”

  “She’s not a nurse,” Wyatt said.

  “You’re not making sense,” Liam said. “He’s not making sense.”

  “Let him talk.”

  “I am letting him talk. He said he hired a nurse.”

  “No, he said he hired someone to help.”

  “Let him talk!”

  “He’s not talking.”

  “We just want to help you, Wyatt.”

  He closed his eyes, the noise his brothers and sisters-in-law could make absolutely overwhelming. At the same time, he could feel the love they had for him, and he really appreciated it.

  “I guess I’m not paying her,” he said, and that got most of them to settle down. “I just asked her if she’d come to the ranch and take me on walks. Visit me in the hospital and all that.”

  “Oh, it’s a woman.”

  “I’ll take you on a walk,” Jeremiah said. “The dogs will need to go every day.”

  “It’s Marcy Payne,” Whitney said, and that got everyone to shut up. Every eye zeroed in on him.

  “Is she right?” Rhett asked, clearly surprised.

  “Yes,” Wyatt said, deciding not to hide his feelings for the pretty blonde woman he’d been sneaking around to see for eight months now. “And we’re not seeing each other. I just wish I was her boyfriend.�
� He chuckled and shook his head. “She’s dealing with a lot of family stuff at the moment.”

  “So are you,” Tripp said.

  “Yeah, well, she said she’d come make me walk and visit me in the hospital and all that.” Wyatt puffed out his chest, immediately regretting it when a flash of pain stole down his spine. “And I don’t need you guys butting into my business with her.”

  “We would never do that,” Liam said, grinning around at the other brothers.

  Skyler particularly wore a devilish smile. “When’s the surgery?”

  “August thirtieth,” he said.

  “So I’ll still be here.”

  “If you even look at Marcy wrong, I will hunt you down in Amarillo and make sure all of your young, hip friends know how old you are.”

  Skyler burst out laughing, as did a few other brothers, and Wyatt couldn’t help grinning too. The moment sobered, and he surveyed this crowd that was his family. Six brothers. Four of them married, with wives now. One new baby. Hopefully more on the way.

  “So that’s my news.” He nodded as appreciation and love moved through him. Sure, they were noisy and pushy and stuck their noses where they didn’t belong. But they were family, and he sure did love them. “Who else has something to say?”

  Everyone looked around at the others, and finally Liam said, “Callie and I have finalized our adoption paperwork. Now it’s just a waiting game.”

  “Waiting for what?” Evelyn asked. “And that’s so great. Congratulations, you guys.”

  “Now we just wait for a birth mom to pick our profile,” Callie said, her hands twisting around themselves. “Our case worker said it could be a day to forever.”

  “Oh, it won’t be forever,” Tripp said, standing up and hugging his brother. “We’ll pray for you guys. And you, Wyatt.”

  Murmurs of agreement went up, and Wyatt nodded his thanks for the prayers. He hadn’t dared ask the Lord to heal him, because he thought if he had to continue his life with the physical pain, at least he wouldn’t also know that God had heard his prayers and ignored them.

  The weeks passed, and Wyatt only had one mishap where he forgot Jeremiah had gotten married. He’d gone into the master only wearing a pair of basketball shorts, saying, “Hey, I need to borrow—” before he’d realized his brother’s wife was still lying in bed.

  “Sorry,” he’d said, blitzing his way out of the room as fast as his injuries would allow him. He hadn’t seen anything. Whitney had laughed about it with him. But Wyatt didn’t forget again.

  Thankfully, Micah had moved in while Jeremiah and Whitney were on their honeymoon, and Wyatt had someone else to hang out with at night when the newly married couple retired early to their bedroom. Without Micah, Wyatt would’ve gone crazy—much the same way Jeremiah had way back in January when he was alone in the huge homestead at the ranch.

  The night before his surgery, his father called him. “How are you, son?”

  “Actually okay,” Wyatt said. “I’ve had surgeries before.”

  “I know, but your mother and I worry about you. We always have.”

  “I know that, Daddy.” Wyatt sighed and made sure the AC was still blowing. He’d just pulled into the driveway at Seven Sons, and the next time he left, it would be for the hospital, not the stables he’d fallen in love with.

  “Jeremiah is taking you in the morning?”

  “Oh, they’re all coming,” he said with a sigh. “We can’t even fit in one vehicle, but Micah says he’s driving his king cab too.” Wyatt chuckled and added, “Maybe you could tell them it’s not necessary?”

  “I’m not going to do that,” Daddy said. “We worked and worked with you boys to make sure you knew how important each other were. That you’d have friends come and go, but your family would always be around. Remember how many football games you went to for Jeremiah?”

  Boy, did he ever. “I know, Daddy. I just hate the spectacle.”

  His father laughed, and Wyatt wished he was there with him so he could have one more hug before he went under the knife. “Son, you rode bulls for a living. With cameras on you constantly. You live for a show.”

  “Not this kind,” Wyatt said darkly.

  “Momma says she has a good feeling about it.”

  “I love you guys,” Wyatt said.

  “And we love you. Have one of the brothers call us.”

  “I will.” The call ended, and Wyatt stayed in his seat, gazing at the huge oak tree in the front yard. The sunshine drifted through the air lazily, and he wanted to be with Marcy. But she’d taken on five new clients for the fall dustings, and he hadn’t been able to see her much around the hangar.

  He called her, wondering if she was on the ground or not. “Heya, Wyatt,” she said, her voice full of exhaustion.

  “Are you flying?”

  “Just landed. Gotta get cleaned up and get over to Daddy’s.”

  He wanted to offer to help, but he really just wanted to hear her voice and then go spend the evening with his family. Jeremiah had promised him a “last meal” of creamy mushroom pasta with steak, and Wyatt’s mouth watered just thinking about it.

  “I miss you,” he said, wishing he wasn’t quite so vulnerable with this woman.

  “Surgery tomorrow,” she said in response, and Wyatt hadn’t gotten Marcy during one of her sentimental times.

  “Yeah,” he said. “Bright and early. I should be awake well before you finish dusting.”

  “I’ll come by in the evening,” she said, a plan they’d already talked about.

  “Great.” Wyatt knew when to end a conversation with her, and it was time. “See you then.”

  “Wyatt,” she said, and he paused mid-reach for the end call button on his infotainment screen. “What are you doing tonight?”

  “Eating dinner with my family.”

  “Do you have a minute to stop by?”

  “You’re in a rush, aren’t you?” He’d played by her rules. He only stopped by periodically, and he’d told her if she came to the wedding, he wouldn’t talk to her for a month. But then she’d invited him to her hangar, and they’d spent the rest of the afternoon talking.

  He’d wanted to kiss her. Badly.

  She hadn’t been in the right place, and he could feel it. And she hadn’t cut off communication with him after the wedding.

  “I just want to give you a good luck hug,” she said.

  That was all the encouragement Wyatt needed. “I’m on my way,” he said, flipping the truck into reverse. The call with Marcy ended, and he immediately called Jeremiah. “I’m going to be a little late tonight,” he said. “I’m stopping by Marcy’s for a minute.”

  “Take your time,” Jeremiah said, and that right there proved how much he’d changed since marrying Whitney. He was still Jeremiah, but a less intense, less angry version of the man he’d been for the past four years.

  Wyatt didn’t blame him, and it sure was nice to see his brother whole again. Now, if he could just get himself whole too, Wyatt would like that.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Marcy’s stomach swooped when Wyatt Walker walked through the door. She was always a little self-conscious around him, as she smelled constantly of grease and metal, her hair never looked nice when he came by, and she was utterly exhausted. That meant she’d have no defense against his strong arms, brilliant smile, and Texas rodeo twang.

  Sure enough, when he said, “Heya, Marce,” she dang near swooned at his feet.

  “Hey.”

  “You okay?”

  She was the one who was supposed to ask him that. Not the other way around. “I’m just tired.” She tossed the blue rag she’d been using to dry her hands into the sink and turned fully toward him. “How are you?”

  “It’s so good to see you.” He took her right into his arms, and Marcy clung to him. He was powerful, and strong, and kind, and good, and Marcy really wished she had time every evening to see him, spend time with him, get to know him, kiss him….

  “Good to se
e you too, Wyatt.”

  He stepped back and straightened, a flash of pain moving across his face so quickly she almost didn’t see it. “How’s your daddy tonight?”

  “I think he’s okay.” Marcy hadn’t heard anything to the contrary from her cousin. “What’s Jeremiah making for dinner?”

  “Creamy mushroom pasta with steak,” Wyatt said with a grin. “My favorite food.”

  “Oh, wow.” Marcy giggled. “I don’t even think I could boil the water to make pasta.”

  Wyatt chuckled with her, and she liked that she had strengths and weaknesses—some of which were not very traditional for women—and that he didn’t try to change them about her. He didn’t suggest she take some cooking classes, the way her last boyfriend did. He hadn’t once mentioned that she might try a different brand of soap to really get the grease out from under her fingernails.

  He liked her how she was, and Marcy thought that was the sexiest thing about the man.

  “You want to sit in my office?” She knew standing was hard for him sometimes, and she started toward the tiny office in the corner.

  He moved with her, and Marcy practically collapsed into the chair behind the desk. “I’m surprised you can eat tonight with the surgery tomorrow.”

  “They said before eight,” he said. “No eating or drinking after that. No breakfast tomorrow.”

  She nodded, suddenly ready to leave. She got up and opened the mini fridge on the counter next to the open door. “Well, I have one of your favorite sodas left.” She took it out and extended it toward him.

  Wyatt stood up, a new edge in his eyes that had Marcy’s heart beat dancing in the back of her throat. “Marce.” He took a step toward her, penetrating her personal space. This office was so tiny, and he was so big.

  He reached up and ran his fingers down the side of her face in a tender gesture she hadn’t anticipated such a rough and tough cowboy like him could do. The cold can of soda pressed between them, and he took it from her and set it on top of the fridge.

  “I want to kiss you,” he whispered, and Marcy really had no objections. Other than the fact that a kiss would mean they were serious. Dating, even. And she hadn’t wanted that.