A Small-Town Bride

by Hope Ramsay

Lyndon pulled a yellow sticky note out of his breast pocket and passed it across the desk. Dusty picked it up and read the astronomical sum with a dollar sign in front of it.

  “That’s what I’m willing to offer you in cash. It’s more than you’ll ever get from the county. And after you pay off your mortgage, you’ll still have plenty of funds to set up shop elsewhere.”

  Dusty locked gazes with the man. “And the quid pro quo?”

  “You leave this town and never come back.”

  “Do I have to decide right now?”

  Lyndon stood up. “No. But don’t take too long to think about this. If you don’t accept this offer in the next couple of days, I’ll fund the county’s effort to seize your property through eminent domain. So basically, you can do this the easy way or the hard way, but either way, the county gets your land.”

  Lyndon stood and strolled toward the door with the air of a man who had the means to buy whatever he wanted.

  “Wait,” Dusty said to his back. “I accept your offer.”

  Lyndon turned, the surprise evident on his face. Dusty took solace in that, and the fact that he’d just bested Jamie Lyndon, and the Big Man didn’t even know it.

  “I’m surprised,” Lyndon said. “I expected more of a fight from you. I guess what folks say about you is true.”

  Dusty had a good idea what “folks” said about him. Dusty’s reputation had been less than stellar for a long while, but his future in this town had been completely torched the minute Daddy burned down the foundry. “How quick can we make this happen?” Dusty asked.

  “I’ll check with my lawyers. I’m sure we can get the papers signed and a check in your hands by Thursday or Friday of next week. After Danny’s wedding.”

  “What do you need from me?”

  “Not one thing. I already know everything there is to know about you.”

  Which was ironic, because he clearly did not.

  * * *

  Amy got through the small wedding on Friday without a hitch, but the wedding reception on Saturday got kind of rowdy and didn’t wrap up until well after midnight. She was so exhausted Saturday night that she fell into Dusty’s cozy bed up in his loft and didn’t even think about making love.

  Normally neither of them worked on Sundays, but this particular weekend they had a gigantic wedding and reception, complete with a flower-laden chuppa that had to be erected by the gazebo and two hundred wedding guests who had to be fed.

  They both had to get up early on Sunday morning.

  When the alarm sounded, Dusty batted it off and pulled Amy into his arms. “Morning sex would be nice,” he said.

  Amy buried her nose against his chest, drinking in the morning scent of him. Talk about an aphrodisiac.

  He combed his hands through her hair and pulled her a little closer. “I need to tell you something,” he whispered.

  Her heart took flight. Was this the magic moment? She pulled back a little and looked deep into his heavy-lidded baby blues. The words of love she’d so wanted to say were right at the tip of her tongue.

  She paused a moment before speaking her heart, and good thing, too, because he pulled away and his gaze sobered.

  Uh-oh. This wasn’t the “I love you” talk. The momentary swell of emotion receded, leaving her hollow. “What is it?” she asked, her whisper almost strangled.

  “The county fire marshal has opened an arson investigation. I found out about it on Friday, but I didn’t want to worry you. Turns out my insurance company is sending their own investigator, and there’s going to be an effort to tie me to the fire.”

  “But that makes no sense. Why would you burn the place down? It’s not insured, is it?”

  “No. But I do have liability coverage in case someone gets hurt. And that’s what this is mostly about. Chief LaRue is ticked off, and he’s blaming me because Daddy isn’t here to blame. It’s an old, old story.”

  “That’s ridiculous.”

  “I know. I’ll eventually be cleared of any wrongdoing. But that doesn’t change the fact that I’m going to lose in the court of public opinion. That article in the Winchester Daily a few weeks ago makes that abundantly clear. Jefferson County wants to turn my land into a park, and everyone thinks I’m standing in the way.”

  “But the county doesn’t have the money for the park.”

  “That’s true now, but not for long.”

  “Dusty, you can’t give up.”

  “Yes, I can. And here’s the thing. Your father is giving me a second chance.”

  Alarm shivered up her spine. “What are you talking about?”

  “He’s offered to buy me out at a price that’s significantly higher than what the county is likely to pay me. Quite frankly, he’s willing to pay more than what the land is worth.”

  “How much more?”

  “About twenty-five percent. I’d be a fool not to take the offer. So I did.”

  “What? But what about your business plan? What about your—”

  He put his fingers across her mouth. “Hush. Your father’s cash will allow me to invest someplace else.”

  She pulled his hand away. “But he’s bullying you, trying to make you leave town because of me. I won’t—”

  “Hush. I know all that. But I’ve put one over on him, because you’re going to come with me when I make the move to Montana.”

  “What?”

  He pulled her closer, the touch heartbreaking. “Amy,” he whispered in her ear, “I’ve got it all figured out. We’ll go to Montana. I’ll get a job as a fishing guide. We’ll drive across country and explore the West together. It’s all arranged. We’ll go to closing on Thursday or Friday.”

  She pulled away from him and sat up in the bed. “I don’t want to live in Montana.”

  “What?”

  “You heard me. When did I ever say I wanted to move to Montana?”

  “I thought you wanted to divorce your family. Montana is a—”

  “I do want to divorce the family. But I don’t want to run away from them. Did it ever occur to you that I might have something to say about what happened next? Or whether I might have some thoughts about where or if we should move? Why didn’t you talk to me about this instead of taking Daddy’s money? He’s manipulating you, and I can’t stand it.”

  “He didn’t manipulate me. He made a big mistake trying to buy me out. He asked me to leave town and never come back, but he didn’t stipulate that I couldn’t take you with me.”

  Dammit. Dammit to hell and back again. Everyone—even Dusty—thought they could tell her what to do and where to go.

  She pulled away from him. “I’m not going with you,” she said, her voice wobbling.

  “What?”

  “I told you. I’m not going with you. I thought you were ready to stay and fight. I thought you believed in your cause.”

  “Amy, there’s no way I can win. Don’t you understand?”

  “But you could.”

  He shook his head. “It’s hopeless. I need to leave this place.”

  “And you think I’ll just pull up stakes and go with you?”

  Just then Muffin, who was required to sleep downstairs in the tiny house, started barking. The dog didn’t like it when people got upset. No doubt she’d come from a broken home with a lot of drama.

  Amy picked up her clothes from the floor where she’d dropped them the night before. “I gotta go,” she said.

  “Amy, come on. Don’t be—”

  “What? Ridiculous?”

  He pressed his lips together, apparently wise enough not to answer that question.

  “You’re the one who’s being ridiculous,” she said, stepping into the dress she’d worn yesterday. She picked up her heels and headed down the steep stairs to the living room. He followed her, but she tried to ignore him. She didn’t want to be sidetracked by all that gorgeous naked man.

  She grabbed Muffin’s leash, snapped it to the dog’s collar, and headed for the door.

  “Amy, please,
let’s talk about this,” he said in a gruff voice.

  When she got to the door, she turned around. He was amazingly handsome, standing there all nude and male and hot. But she could live without him, if living with him meant running away and letting him make all the decisions.

  “Enjoy Daddy’s money,” she said. Then she peeled through the front door at a dead run and slammed the Z4 through its gears as she drove away. She almost broke a speed record covering the distance between Dusty’s house and Jeff’s cabin. When she got up the ridge, she ran a hot shower and cried for exactly ten minutes before pulling herself together. What had she expected anyway?

  A lifetime love?

  Ha! Not with the Casanova of Shenandoah Falls. Or Greg McNeil’s emotionally scarred son. It had been a lovely affair, but it was over. And it annoyed her to no end that Daddy had been right about him.

  Money meant more to him than love.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Danny couldn’t believe the transformation that had taken place in the Carriage House. He strolled through the French doors on Wednesday afternoon and literally goggled at the extravagant circus-themed decor. Hot pink and purple fabric streamers swathed the rafters and draped down the walls, creating the illusion of a circus tent. Pink, purple, and white lights twinkled below like fireflies on a summer’s evening. Twenty tables dressed in purple and pink linens surrounded the dance floor, where an acrobatic rig had been set up, the steel structure hung with fabric to create the illusion of an open-sided Bedouin tent.

  The room hummed with activity in advance of the reception, which would begin directly after the ceremony—in just a little more than an hour from now. The DJ and bartender were setting up. The camera crew was blocking out the best angles to capture the party for the Vegas Girls two-hour wedding special. Someone from the kitchen was fussing over a food station where ten different flavors of popcorn were available for the guests to enjoy. Other staff members were putting the finishing touches to the table centerpieces—gaudy feathered masquerade masks arranged like flowers in crystal vases.

  Willow and her staff had done an amazing job transforming the Carriage House into a fantasy circus tent, but all that glitter and glam left him feeling empty. Not only had the expenses for this party come mostly out of his own trust fund, but all of it, right down to the popcorn, was nothing more than a ransom for control of his daughter’s future.

  “Danny? What are you doing here?”

  He turned to find Amy, wearing a basic black dress and carrying a fistful of bright masquerade masks that sparkled in the subdued light as if each one had been hand-dipped in glitter. She didn’t look very happy for him.

  “I take it by your funereal attire that you’re sending me a message.”

  Her mouth thinned. “I work here. The staff usually wears black or navy to events like this. We don’t want to upstage any of the guests.”

  “But—”

  “I’ve divorced the family. I’m sure you’ve heard the news. So tonight I’m here as Eagle Hill Manor event staff, and nothing more.”

  He shook his head. “You can’t divorce your family.”

  “No? Isn’t that what you did eight years ago? I’ve been watching the way the family treats you and Jeff, and the truth is, you guys get more respect than I do.”

  “Are you saying that I’m your role model? Because if that’s so, I’d like to resign from that job. Amy, walking away from the family eight years ago may have been the worst mistake I ever made.”

  She leaned over the nearest table and put one of the masks into a crystal vase with clear marbles in it. She fussed a moment with the arrangement, draping feathers. “I’m not moving across the country. I’m just making a principled stand, right here in Shenandoah Falls. And besides, I think it’s true what they say about absence making the heart grow fonder,” she said. “If I stay away from family gatherings for a while, everyone will appreciate me when I return.”

  “That sounds more like a separation than a divorce.”

  She gave him a withering glance. “Did Aunt Pam send you here to talk sense to me? Because if she did, I’m not listening. My mind’s made up. I’m divorcing all of you. And as for your wedding, don’t expect me to be overjoyed about the choices you’ve made.”

  “You aren’t going to do something stupid like stand up and start arguing when the minister gets to the part about speak now or forever hold your peace, are you?”

  “If I did stand up and say something, it wouldn’t be stupid.”

  Heat crawled up his face. “I’m sorry. That didn’t come out the way I intended it. I just don’t want anyone standing up at that part of the ceremony, okay? I’ll make my mistakes, and you can make yours.”

  “Okay, but refusing Grady’s proposal was not a mistake.”

  He shook his head. “No. I didn’t say that. I’m not one of Grady’s fans, to tell you the truth. I think you could do better.”

  “Really? You’re the only one.”

  He chuckled. “Thanks, but I still think you need to have your head examined for getting involved with Dusty McNeil.”

  “Ah, I knew you would get around to that eventually. Well, you can stop worrying. Dusty and I have broken up.”

  “Oh?”

  She turned and headed to the next table and started fiddling with the centerpiece there.

  He followed after her. “So, what happened with Dusty?” he asked, knowing that he’d probably poked her right where it hurt.

  “Daddy bought him out. Paid an exorbitant amount of money for his land. He’s moving away. I gather that was one of the stipulations of the sale.” She bit her lip and shook her head. By the slight tremor in her voice, Amy seemed close to tears.

  “Shit. Do you love him?”

  She nodded. “Yeah, I do. But clearly he doesn’t love me. He didn’t ask my opinion about selling the land or moving away. And even though he expected me to go with him, he never said he loved me or wanted to marry me. And you know what? I’m done having people tell me what to do and how to be. I’m done letting everyone run my life.”

  “Wait a sec. He asked you to go with him?”

  She nodded.

  “And you said no?”

  “Yeah, I did.”

  “Amy, guys don’t ask stuff like that unless they care.”

  She turned, a sheen of tears in her eyes. “You think?”

  “I know.”

  “Well, he didn’t say it. He merely informed me that he’d taken Daddy’s money and was so pleased with himself because he planned to abscond with his daughter as well. To Montana. Can you imagine me living in Montana?”

  He chuckled. “No, I can’t.”

  “And that’s the problem, because even though I’m ticked off at Daddy, I don’t want to show him up.”

  “No? I thought you wanted to divorce him.”

  The corner of her mouth quirked. “Okay, so maybe I want a small separation until he comes to his senses and realizes that I’m not his baby girl anymore.”

  “Uh, Amy, I don’t think he’s ever going to come to that realization.”

  “That’s depressing,” she said on a long sigh.

  “No, it’s not depressing. It’s just the truth. Honey, when a man has a daughter, it does a number on his head. Look around you. All this craziness is about Scarlett. And I gotta tell you, my view on Scarlett and boys is that she should be locked away in a tower and not be allowed out until she’s at least thirty-five. Heaven help the boy who wants to take her to prom.”

  “I feel sorry for Scarlett.”

  “I love her more than life. And Uncle Jamie feels the same way about you too.”

  “Yeah, I guess. But little girls grow up, and daddies need to help them be independent. The truth is, until Daddy locked me out of the house, he hadn’t done a good job of that. And I’m really ticked off that he used his economic power to send away the guy I think I’ve fallen for.”

  “I guess I can see that.”

  “So do Scarlett a favor
, okay? You can love her with all your heart. You can marry her mother, even though it’s a terrible mistake. But for God’s sake, teach her to be independent. And when she’s ready to leave the nest, don’t hold her back.”

  * * *

  Next week at this time, Dusty would be driving cross-country in his old pickup, on his way to an uncertain future in Montana. But right now he still served as the director of facilities at Eagle Hill Manor, responsible for today’s event, which would be attended by a smattering of Hollywood B- and C-listers and a contingent of Washington, DC’s elite.

  The weather had decided not to cooperate with Mia the tyrant. The sun shone, but a big Canadian high had moved in overnight, sending temperatures plummeting into the low fifties, and a stiff breeze whipped down from the ridge. The wind seemed determined to knock over every flower arrangement set up for the outside wedding ceremony.

  Dusty had recommended placing propane heaters at strategic points in order to keep the wedding guests from turning blue in the windchill. But Antonella had vetoed his suggestion because the tall heaters would obstruct camera views. So now the guests were filing in, huddling in their overcoats, their noses turning red in the gusts.

  He tried not to care, but caring about guests at Eagle Hill Manor had become second nature to him, like an addiction he couldn’t shake.

  And speaking of addictions, Amy Lyndon ranked up there as well. He’d mistakenly thought that they had something really good going. And since she seemed hell-bent on defying her father, he’d naturally expected her to jump at the idea of blowing this one-horse town and heading out West. Her refusal had blindsided him worse than that sucker punch her brother had laid on him.

  He pushed the sour thoughts from his mind just as the Shenandoah Strings, the string quartet on contract with Eagle Hill Manor, struck up a classical piece that sounded vaguely familiar. The musicians sat in the gazebo with space heaters at their feet and several microphones strategically placed around them. Their music was piped through the state-of-the-art sound system that Willow had installed precisely for blustery days like this.

  The music signaled the beginning of the wedding ceremony. It couldn’t happen quick enough for Dusty.