The Wedding Crasher and the Cowboy

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The Wedding Crasher and the Cowboy Page 8

by Robin Bielman


  His touch wasn’t unwelcome. It didn’t make her flinch. Or want to push him away. This close, his blue eyes brandished a ring of light green around his pupils. And he had a tiny scar, probably from chicken pox, on his forehead.

  “Yes,” she said, even though she felt certain she wasn’t. Not when Maverick’s presence put her at ease.

  …

  She didn’t look okay. One minute she’d been texting on her phone with a smile on her face, and the next she’d zoned out and he’d swear her breathing had stopped. It had scared him. Not that he’d ever admit it aloud.

  He’d come back to apologize more directly for being rude and stared at her from afar for a few moments. He couldn’t help himself. She possessed some serious magnetic mojo, grown more powerful since college.

  “You sure?” he asked.

  She nodded.

  Which wasn’t the reassurance he needed. He told himself she was a guest of the inn and while not technically his job, he should see to her well-being. In reality, he didn’t believe her being a guest had anything to do with it.

  Damn, but his emotions were all over the place with her near again.

  He slid her phone over and sat down next to her. A large oak tree supplied shade, a slight sea breeze carried the scent of gardenias. Nova loved the white flowers, so she made sure there were plenty around.

  “Want to talk about it?” He had no idea where those words came from, but they were out and he had to live with them now.

  “Are you the same man who practically pushed me out of his golf cart twenty minutes ago?”

  “No,” he answered honestly. Because somewhere between her calling him a tree doctor and looking like she’d just lost her best friend, he’d softened. Definitely against his will, but softened, nonetheless.

  “I was texting with a friend of mine, Hugo, and he reminded me of what I went through when I wasn’t much older than he is.”

  Maverick settled a little deeper into the bench. If she wanted to talk, he’d listen.

  Kennedy relaxed on a sigh. “I was born with my stomach twisted in a knot. I should have died, but I didn’t. Then when I was fourteen, I was rushed to the emergency room. They didn’t know what was wrong with me at first, just that I was in a lot of pain. Turned out scar tissue from the stomach surgery I had as an infant had broken off and caused a bowel obstruction. The obstruction triggered sudden heart failure.”

  Jesus. To go through something like that as a kid.

  “Thanks to the ER doctor, I was rushed into surgery just in time to save my life. The surgeons were able to fix the obstruction.”

  “For good?” he asked, praying she didn’t suffer any lingering complications.

  “Yes.”

  He sensed a “but” coming.

  “After surgery, though, my heart rate continued to drop and I was in critical condition. My parents were in the waiting room when they heard ‘Code Blue Room 327’ and knew it was me. They rushed to the room, and my dad insisted the medical staff let him inside. He screamed at me so loud to keep fighting that my mom later told me every nurse on the floor had gravitated toward the window of the room.”

  Maverick knew the story ended well. Kennedy sat beside him healthy and strong, her hair smelling like strawberries and her skin glowing from being outside, but he didn’t want to hear any more. He didn’t want to be reminded of his own cries, coaching Nicole to fight harder, to hang on a little longer. To stay with him because life meant more with her in it.

  “I had been flatlining for almost a minute when the ER doctor, Dr. Hawkins, rushed into the room and told me I wasn’t fighting hard enough and that I had to live because I had great things to accomplish. Then everything got quiet for a second and my dad begged the doctor not to call it. Another second later, the beeping on the portable monitor started again and Dr. Hawkins said, ‘we have a pulse.’ In that moment, I opened my eyes and gave everyone a thumbs-up.”

  Maverick swallowed the thick lump in his throat, and without thinking too hard about it, he squeezed Kennedy’s hand. A silent acknowledgment that he was happy she’d survived.

  Then, because he had to do something to mask this deluge of gratitude, he said, “I’m glad you fought back, otherwise who would have bugged the crap out of me in college?”

  “Ha! I think it’s the other way around.” She spared him a quick glance. “I can’t believe I told you all that. Not many people know the entire reason I became an ER doctor.”

  “I’m a good listener.”

  She pfftted.

  “It’s amazing you remembered all that detail.” If that were true, then maybe Nicole had heard the last words he’d spoken to her. He hoped so. Unlike Kennedy, Nicole didn’t have a chance of coming back.

  “Yeah. It was like an out-of-body experience.”

  “Did you see a white light?”

  She laughed. “No, nothing like that. It was more like an…awareness. A feeling that I wasn’t alone and that there was a ton of optimism and love in the room, and those strong feelings are what brought me back. The sad thing is that I survived, but afterward, my parents’ marriage didn’t.”

  Her phone dinged. She looked at the screen and smiled. “This is Hugo.” She showed Maverick a picture of a boy with a deck of cards fanned out in his hand, between his fingers.

  “The kid’s got some dexterity.”

  “He does. He’s also super smart and very special to me.”

  Unmistakable affection resonated in her voice. “How do you two know each other?”

  “We met in the ER. He’s also had to deal with a heart issue. His, though, is chronic.”

  “I’m sorry.” The tear he’d wiped away—was it for Hugo? “He looks healthy now.”

  “He is.” She stood. Stretched her arms over her head. Her T-shirt shifted, revealing a thin patch of smooth, pale skin above the waistband of her jeans. “Want to grab lunch?” she asked, pulling his gaze back up where it belonged.

  He had a list a mile long of things to do around the ranch and yet found himself saying, “Sure, but I should make it quick.”

  “I’m happy with anything.”

  They strode toward the inn. “Really? You’ll eat a plate of hot wings with me?”

  “Ugh. No.” She looked at him with wide eyes. “Wait. You remember that?”

  “That you don’t eat anything off a bone? Yeah.” Their junior year of college, they’d been assigned to the same study group, and on more than one occasion they’d met at the local pub. Kennedy couldn’t stomach eating any kind of meat that came attached to a bone.

  “I can do boneless,” she offered helpfully. This more amenable Kennedy must be due to hunger.

  “Actually, I know just the place.”

  He took her around the inn to the back door of the kitchen. “Hey, Mom,” he said, gesturing for Kennedy to enter first.

  “Hello! What a nice surprise.” Maverick knew his mom would enjoy seeing Kennedy again and showing her more gratitude for her treatment of Nova.

  “Hi, Mrs. Owens.”

  “Please call me Mary Rose.” She wiped her hands on her apron. Freshly baked cookies were plated on the counter—an afternoon treat for guests that they served with homemade lemonade.

  “It smells delicious in here,” Kennedy said.

  “Thank you. Can I give you two some lunch? Have a seat.”

  Maverick pulled out a chair at the table for Kennedy. Her long lashes swept down over the tops of her cheeks in thanks as she sat. “It’s not too much trouble?” she whispered to him.

  He shook his head at the same time his mom said, “Not at all. I love feeding my children and their friends.”

  Kennedy raised her eyebrows at him. He shrugged. They could call a temporary truce for the benefit of his mom.

  “So, Kennedy, are you married? Have a boyfriend?”

 
“Mom,” he groaned. Man, he kept underestimating his family and their endless interest in Kennedy.

  “I’m just curious.” She put two plates and a large bowl of cold pasta salad on the table.

  “I’m single,” Kennedy said easily enough. “And happily so.”

  “Oh?” Mom said.

  “The last boyfriend I had turned out to be… I don’t even have the right words. Not who I thought he was, that’s for sure. We were together when he met and fell in love with my sister.”

  His mom’s hand went to her chest. “You’re kidding.”

  Kennedy shook her head. “No. They’re planning to get married next year.”

  “That’s awful.” His mom placed sliced apples, homemade rolls, cloth napkins, and silverware on the table.

  “Thank you for saying that.” Kennedy spooned some pasta onto her plate. “My mom and sister don’t understand how weird it is.”

  “Do you have any other siblings?” His mom poured them each a glass of water from a pitcher and then took a seat at the table.

  “Another sister, Ava. She and I are best friends, so I’ve got someone on my side.”

  “And your dad?”

  “He stays pretty neutral when he’s around.”

  “I’m sorry you’re dealing with all that.”

  “Me too, but fingers crossed I’ll be on the other side of the country by the end of the month.”

  Oh? Maverick’s ears perked up.

  “Oh?” his mom echoed aloud. She had this way about her that made a person talk about anything and everything. She genuinely cared and set people at ease with her kind voice and friendly expression.

  “I’ve been interviewing with a hospital in Boston. They have one of the best ERs in the country, and I’ve never wanted a job so badly.”

  Maverick could sympathize. There was a time when all he wanted was to have his own veterinary practice. He hoped Kennedy’s wish came true.

  “I’ll keep my fingers crossed for you,” his mom said.

  “Thank you. I should hear this week if I’ve been invited for an in-person interview. If so, I’m pretty sure that means I’ve got the job.” She took a bite of apple.

  “Have you ever been to Boston?”

  “No,” Kennedy said, eyes remaining on his mom. It was like he wasn’t there, which suited him just fine.

  Until his mom said, “You’ve been to Boston, haven’t you, Mav?”

  He finished chewing his food, two sets of eyes on him. “I have. It’s a fine city.”

  “What were you doing there?” Kennedy asked.

  He had no intention of going down that path so said simply, “Vacation.” He met his mom’s gaze, silently imploring her to let it go. That she’d even brought up his travels was enough to make him want to run out the kitchen door. He rubbed a hand over the back of his neck.

  Thankfully, Kennedy did let it go. “In all honesty,” she said, “I chose it because of its great reputation, but also because it’s far from L.A.”

  “That’s where you’re from?”

  “Born and raised. I love it there, but I’m ready for a change.”

  “Being on a ranch isn’t exactly Kennedy’s idea of fun,” Maverick said.

  “True.” She pointed her fork at him. “But I am finding it to be more interesting than I thought it would be.” She turned her attention back to his mom. “And the people are beyond nice. How is Nova, by the way? Have you seen her today?”

  “I saw her this morning and she was doing well. A little grumpy because the bottom of her foot hurts. But that’s what she gets for gardening barefoot. My husband took her to see Doc and they’re due back anytime. Thank you again for everything you did.”

  “It was my pleasure. And this lunch is delicious. Thank you.”

  “What’s on your agenda for the rest of the day?”

  “I’m not sure,” Kennedy said.

  Maverick had a feeling her plans were predicated on if she could get a minute alone with Reed. Thankfully, the topic of the wedding hadn’t come up with his mom.

  “Well, don’t forget tonight is the ‘S’more the Marry Her’ event around the firepit near the pond. We put on a mean s’mores event.”

  So much for avoiding that subject.

  Kennedy cut him a quick glance. “Right. Of course I’ll be there. I can’t remember the last time I had s’mores.” She looked around the kitchen. “Do you do all the cooking here?”

  “My husband and I, yes. He worked the ranch up until he had an accident five years ago. He was thrown from a horse and broke his leg and pelvis. During his recovery he started taking cooking classes and found he enjoyed it. I’ve been stuck with him ever since.”

  Maverick inwardly smiled at the term stuck. His parents had been happily married for the past thirty-four years. His dad doted on his mom, and vice versa.

  “We have additional help when we hold weddings and other large events. There’s another kitchen on the property.”

  “How long has the ranch been in your family?”

  “Over a hundred years.” His mom looked fondly at him. “We’ve carried on traditions and started a lot of new ones.”

  “The Christmas trees are a newer one?”

  “You’ve seen the trees?” Her eyes darted between him and Kennedy.

  “Maverick showed them to me. It must be magical here around Christmastime.”

  “It is. You’ll have to come back for a visit.”

  “She’ll be in Boston,” he said matter-of-factly.

  Kennedy gave him a sidelong glance. “Thanks for the vote of confidence. I think that’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

  “You’re a good doctor,” he said.

  “Wow, you’re on a roll. Please don’t stop.” She made a circular motion with her hand to keep going and looked at him expectantly, those brown eyes of hers way too keen and appealing for his liking.

  He turned his head to his mom. “Thanks for lunch. It was great as always.”

  His mom, clearly enjoying the exchange between him and Kennedy, looked ready to swing from the ceiling fan in joy. “Come back tomorrow. I’d love to continue this conversation then.”

  Or he could keep as far away as possible from his well-meaning but too-inquisitive mom. “We’ll see,” he said, knowing he’d at least be back alone. With travel plans of his own, he cherished time with his family even if he didn’t always show it.

  “Before you go, I have something I want to give you, Kennedy.” His mom stood and moved to a drawer on the far side of the kitchen. He picked up his and Kennedy’s plates and took them to the sink to wash.

  “Thanks,” she said to him as she got to her feet.

  “This is just a small token of friendship for you to take with you,” his mom said.

  He watched over his shoulder as his mom placed a small glass ladybug in Kennedy’s hand. She had a collection of the handmade pieces of art and didn’t give them out readily. Bethany and Jenna each had one. His aunt. Their head housekeeper. Nicole.

  “It’s lovely, but I can’t—”

  “You can.” Mom closed her hand over Kennedy’s. “Around here, we believe that ladybugs are good luck charms, and I hope this one brings you luck in your job, and in love.”

  Kennedy blinked furiously, sucked her bottom lip between her teeth. “Thank you so much.” She wrapped his mom in a hug. The embrace lasted for a long time. As they broke apart, Kennedy added, “I don’t have a lot of friends, so this means more than I can say.”

  “You have a friend in me,” his mom replied.

  Maverick kept his back to the women as he dried his hands on a dish towel. If he looked at Kennedy now, he was afraid he’d fall into friendship with her, too.

  She made it easy.

  Chapter Nine

  Five days until the wedding
r />   The smell of roasting marshmallows should be made into a candle. Actually, it probably was, and Kennedy made a mental note to find one. She’d think of tonight, and the ranch and wedding, whenever she lit it. Nothing beat an in-person cookout, though, and she stuffed her mouth with her second s’more.

  “Do you know something I don’t?” Andrew asked from beside her.

  She frowned at him, not understanding why he’d ask that.

  “You’re eating that like Hershey bars are about to become extinct.”

  “Shut up,” she said around a mouthful of deliciousness.

  “I’m not judging, just don’t want you to bite off a finger.”

  She waved her hand at him. “All here, Mr. Stunt Double slash Dance Therapist.”

  “Andrew, hello again,” a man said, coming to stand next to them.

  “Hi,” Andrew said. “Kennedy, this is Nathan and his wife, Jacqueline. They’re friends of Reed’s parents.”

  Kennedy quickly rubbed her knuckle over the corner of her mouth. She hoped she didn’t have marshmallow or chocolate there. “Hi.” Again no Australian accent from Andrew.

  “Your brother told us some great stories earlier,” Nathan said. “We’ve never met a bounty hunter in person before, and he had us in stitches.”

  Oh my God. It took every ounce of strength she had to keep her expression neutral. So Andrew was her brother now, in addition to her work partner? Had he stuck to their original boyfriend-girlfriend plan at all? Probably not, given his crush on Liam. And bounty hunter? Bounty hunter! He’d obviously decided to take improvisational acting another step further, much to her dismay. “That’s Andrew, always telling stories to make people laugh.”

  Andrew put his arm around her. “Don’t worry—I didn’t tell them the one about your ex.” He turned his face away from hers, cupped his hand around his mouth, and half-whispered, “Talk about funny.”

  “Oh, you have to tell us now!” Jacqueline’s eyes widened in interest.

  Kennedy slapped her brother on the chest. “Andrew, I thought your job was confidential.” He just loved making her the butt of his jokes, didn’t he? And how in the world was she going to keep track of his different personas? She made a mental note to steer clear of all guests. Or maybe come down with a debilitating case of laryngitis.

 

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