Cowboy Strong - Includes a bonus novella

by Carolyn Brown

  “I’ll be right there with you, I promise,” he said. “I’m gonna be right beside you through all of this, Alana.”

  She moved over closer to him and laid her head on his shoulder. God, but it felt good to have someone to lean on and share her burden with. “This is one screwed-up mess we’ve gotten ourselves into. Planning a wedding one minute, and an annulment the next, and a funeral somewhere in between,” she whispered.

  He set his beer on the porch and put an arm around her. “One step at a time. Wedding is first. When are you calling the ladies? I thought I’d get in touch with the guys tomorrow morning and get that set down before we meet with that wedding planner.”

  “I’ll do it in the morning.” She yawned.

  * * *

  Pax felt her go slack in his arms and knew she was asleep. He couldn’t bring himself to wake her. It was actually kind of nice to be needed, so he kept the swing moving. His eyes grew heavier and heavier until finally they closed and he fell asleep with his cheek braced on the top of her head.

  He dreamed that she was walking down the aisle toward him. She wore a beautiful white dress and a veil that trailed out all the way to the back of the church. His friends were standing beside him, and the ladies were lined up on the other side. A lovely breeze whipped the veil away from her face, and then he realized that instead of a preacher, there was a lawyer behind the podium, and a gray casket was where the altar should have been.

  He awoke with a start and a severe kink in his neck. The sun was a glimmer of orange trying to make its way over the few mesquite and scrub oak trees between the Bar C and his ranch. He thought of the pretty dress that Alana had worn the night before and how gorgeous her blond hair had been, hanging down her back. Now it was splayed out over his shoulder. He tucked a few strands back behind her ear.

  “Sweet Lord!” She jumped up off the swing. “I had the most horrible dream. Daddy wasn’t here for the wedding, and they told me he’d passed before it was time to walk down the aisle. What would we do if that happened?”

  Pax put his hand on her cheek and looked deep into her worried brown eyes. “Don’t borrow trouble from tomorrow. Simply walk down the path life gives you today. That’s what Mam used to tell us.”

  “That’s a pretty tall order,” she said.

  “Well, good mornin’.” Matt joined them on the porch. “Coffee is made. I hope you’re not comin’ in dressed like that, Alana.”

  “We were talkin’ about the bridesmaids and groomsmen and fell asleep on the swing,” Alana explained.

  “I remember when me and Joy slept on that very swing a few times, but it was after we were married. My mama would have had a hissy fit if she’d caught us out here before we got hitched,” he teased. “Y’all come on in here and we’ll make some breakfast. How does ham and eggs sound?”

  “Sounds real good, but I should be getting on across the fence to my house.” Pax stood up and rolled the kinks from his neck. “Thanks for the offer, though.”

  Alana gave Pax a quick peck on the cheek. “See you this evening. Don’t forget your list.”

  “I’m putting Mam on it right after breakfast. Call me if you need anything else,” he said. “Love you.”

  “Love you,” she said, and it didn’t feel awkward at all to say the words.

  Matt was beaming when Pax left the porch and started jogging across the pasture. Running through knee-deep grass still wet with morning dew dampened his jeans. The sun looked like an orange ball sitting on the edge of the earth when he put a hand on a wooden fence post and sailed over it like he was a professional hurdle jumper. He hoped that he’d be able to sneak into the house without being heard, but no such luck. Maverick was busy making the first pot of coffee for the day when Pax opened the back door. He really wasn’t in the mood for a lot of questions, but he braced himself for them anyway.

  “Dum, dum, de dum,” Maverick sang the wedding march. “So the groom has either been out sowing wild oats or else he’s putting the cart before the pony and spent the night with his bride before the wedding. Which is it?”

  “I walked over to Alana’s last night so we could talk about wedding plans?” Pax asked. “We fell asleep on the porch swing, end of story.”

  “So who’s her maid of honor going to be?” Maverick asked.

  “She’s inviting all the girls to be in the wedding party. So I’ll have you, Tag, Justin, Levi, Hud, and Cade as my groomsmen. I need to get in touch with them today.” As soon as the coffee quit dripping, Pax poured a mugful and sat down at the table.

  “That’s getting to be a pretty big wedding.” Maverick got his own coffee and joined him.

  “What’s going on?” Bridget covered a yawn with her hand as she entered the room. “Did I hear ‘big wedding’? I thought this was going to be a small affair.”

  “It was until Matt decided that since Alana is his only child, he wants a big to-do.”

  “I still think this is too fast,” Maverick said.

  “We’ve done beat on that dead horse long enough. Let’s have some waffles and then get out to the hay field. That back pasture is ready to cut, and the forecast says there’s sunshine for the next three days.” Pax changed the subject.

  He wanted to talk about hay, cattle, or even building a fence. He didn’t want to talk about weddings or Alana. But that was impossible, since every single detail of the night before kept running through his mind.

  Not even his favorite country music playing in the tractor that morning helped. Every song reminded him of her and how it felt to sit on that swing with Alana right next to him. She was adorable in those boxer shorts with Minnie Mouse printed on them, and the faded pink nightshirt. A tingle shot through his body when he thought about her long, long legs, and those kissable lips.

  She’d been adorable in that shirt and those shorts, but his holding her and comforting her was the best part of the night. He hadn’t felt like a fake fiancé at all the night before. In fact, he’d felt pretty damn good.

  Chapter Six

  When Alana opened the door promptly at seven o’clock that evening she found a woman about her own age wearing cute black slacks, a white button-up shirt, and high-heeled shoes. Her blue eyes looked out of place with her jet-black hair, and she barely reached Alana’s shoulder.

  All of those qualities made Alana feel like a giant sunflower growing wild in a bed of pretty little pansies. “Hello, I’m Alana.” She stuck out her hand.

  “Crystal Taylor.” The lady shook with her and then picked up the case she’d set on the porch.

  “Come right in. We’re going to set things up on the dining room table.” Alana led the way to the dining room like a good hostess, even if she did feel a bit intimidated.

  “Please to meet you, Alana,” Crystal said. “Your father has already given me lots of information over the phone.” She followed Alana across the foyer and into the dining room. When she saw Pax, her blue eyes lit up like sparklers on the Fourth of July. “Are you the groom?”

  “Yes, ma’am.” He stood up and shook hands with her. “Paxton Callahan. Pleasure to meet you. Please have a seat.”

  “Well, you two make a good-looking couple. Your wedding pictures should be stunning.” She opened her briefcase, took out a legal-size yellow pad, and sat down across the table from Pax and Alana. “Let’s start with how many will be in the wedding party.”

  “Six bridesmaids and six groomsmen.” Alana took a seat beside Pax. “We called them all this morning and they’ve agreed.”

  He took her hand in his and gave it a gentle squeeze.

  “How many guests are you inviting?” Crystal asked. “We usually find that about seventy-five percent send back the RSVP card, and maybe eighty percent of those actually attend, but we’ll need a rough number for the catering service.”

  Pax slid his list across the table.

  “And here’s mine.” Alana handed hers over. “There’s sure to be duplicate names.”

  “We can take care of overlaps when n
ames get entered into the computer tomorrow for invitation labels. Can you give me an estimated guess?” Crystal glanced across the table at Pax.

  Slow down lady, Alana thought. I’m not trading places with you no matter how much you look at him like that.

  “Five to six hundred,” Matt suggested, walking in from the kitchen. “I overheard you say coffee.” He glanced at Crystal and set a tray with cookies to the table. “I’m the father of the bride, Matt Carey. What can I get y’all to drink? Coffee or maybe a glass of sweet tea?”

  “Pleased to meet you, Mr. Carey,” Crystal said, “and a cup of black coffee would be nice.”

  A triple shot of Knob Creek Smoked Maple, Alana thought, but she said, “Sweet tea will be fine, Daddy, but I can get it.”

  “Honey, y’all keep plannin’. I can take care of that,” Matt told her.

  “That’s a big wedding. Is your venue large enough to accommodate that many?” Crystal asked.

  “We’re using our sale barn, and yes, ma’am, it will hold that many people. The wedding and the reception will both be in the same barn. We’ll make an aisle through the tables,” Alana answered. “I want the reception to be buffet style.”

  “Okay.” Crystal wrote as fast as she could. “That’s about fifty tables for ten. What color tablecloths?”

  “Yellow,” Alana told her. “With shades of orange in the centerpieces.”

  “Well, you certainly know what you want.” Crystal talked to her but smiled at Pax.

  If you could see him in his tank top and black cowboy hat like he was wearing last night, you’d be panting by now, Alana thought. Why am I mentally fighting with a woman for eyeballing Pax?

  Because you’ve always had a crush on him so admit it, the voice in her head smarted off.

  “I’ll have my flower people make up several different centerpieces, then send you pictures so you can have a choice,” Crystal continued. “What do you have in mind for your corsages and boutonnières? I can also have them make some samples of those, too? Also, artificial flowers or real?”

  “Real,” Matt answered as he brought in coffee and tea for everyone. “We want real flowers everywhere. On the tables, on the archway where they will get married, and for the corsages and boots—yellow roses. That’s Joy’s favorite, and Alana has always loved them too.”

  “My mother passed almost twenty years ago,” Alana explained.

  “I’m so sorry. My mother is my best friend,” Crystal said.

  “Mine was too, and yes, yellow roses maybe mixed with those pretty peach-colored ones would be nice,” Alana said.

  “We should plan on sending out your invitations no later than Tuesday.” Crystal pulled a book of samples from her case and turned it around so that Pax and Alana could thumb through it. “While you’re picking out a design, let’s discuss what you want me to do for you.”

  “All of it,” Matt said. “You and I can talk food while they’re deciding on the invitations. We want three meats. Steak is number one. Chicken is next, and smoked ribs for number three. Then all the sides to go with it.”

  “Yes, sir.” Crystal kept writing. “When they have decided on a design, I may have enough to get started. After the invitations are sent, I’ll be in touch about the next items on my list. Do you want me to provide the photographer and the band, also? I can work up prices with each of those and without them.”

  “Just do it all.” Matt shoved an envelope across the table. “A country band for sure. That’s what we all like. Here’s a check already made out to help you get started. When you get everything together, I’ll give you the rest. I don’t want Alana to worry about anything at all, and she will have everything she wants.”

  Guilt lay on Alana’s shoulders like a heavy blanket at the thought of all the money being spent on a fake wedding. What I want is for you to be well and our lives to be back like they used to be. Alana’s hand shook when she turned the next page of the sample invitations.

  Pax quickly laced her fingers in his and turned the pages for her. “What do you think of this one?” He pointed to a simple invitation with a long-stemmed yellow rose printed on the side. “That one would tie in well with the yellow roses, but you should make the decision.”

  “That’s the one,” she said. “You can use it for the napkins, the thank-you cards, and everything else.”

  “Want to change the wording?” Crystal asked.

  “No, what’s on there is perfect.” Alana’s voice caught in her throat. Her father was giving her the wedding that most women would die for, and yet when she really got married, she’d probably go to the courthouse in her jeans. “Except you’ll need to change the names to Alana Joy Carey and Paxton Callahan.”

  “Middle name for Paxton?” Crystal asked.

  “No, ma’am,” he answered as he slid the book back to her. “You can really get those printed, ordered, and sent all by Tuesday?”

  “Yes, I can,” Crystal said.

  “I told you that she came highly recommended,” Matt said.

  Alana stood up and gave her dad a hug. “Thank you for everything, Daddy.”

  “I believe that’s all we need for tonight.” Crystal shoved all the paperwork across the table. “Who wants to sign this contract?”

  “I will,” Alana said as she put her signature at the bottom of several pages.

  When she finished, Crystal gave her a copy of each page, stuffed everything into her case, and stood up. “Thank you for the coffee. I’ll be in touch with you”—she glanced over at Alana—“the first of the week. This will be the fastest wedding I’ve ever planned. I’m not putting anything else on my calendar until it’s over.”

  “Thank you for that,” Matt said.

  “I’ll walk you to the door.” Alana pushed her chair back and got to her feet.

  “I’ve never done a barn wedding, but it’s really exciting thinking about it. I was thinking of using fairy lights to romanticize the barn a little. What do you think of that?” Crystal said as they crossed the foyer.

  Alana opened the door for her, and the two of them stepped out on the porch. “That’s a wonderful idea, and maybe use some tulle to soften things up a bit?” She inhaled deeply, taking in the fresh night air.

  “Think you could get me the dimensions of the barn by the first of the week so I’ll know what size we’re working with?” Crystal asked.

  “I’ll put Daddy on that job.” Alana nodded. “Thank you for driving out here and getting all this together in such a short time. I should explain something, though. My dad has some short-term memory loss, and it seems to be getting worse, so maybe you should run things by me instead of him.”

  “I’m sorry to hear about your dad. That’s a tough thing to see looming in the future. I’ll sure enough keep you in the loop,” Crystal agreed. “Would you consider letting me use your pictures on my website? I’ll give you a ten percent discount on the entire wedding if you’ll agree. Of course, I’d have to get permission from the photographer, but since she’s a cousin, I don’t think that she’ll mind.”

  “I’d have to ask Pax before I said yes.” She couldn’t very well tell Miss Pretty-Blue-Eyes Crystal that this was really a fake wedding to please her father and there was already an annulment or divorce in the planning.

  “Fair enough, let me know by the wedding day. If you agree, I’ll take the ten percent off the final payment, and thanks again.” Crystal headed out across the yard toward her van.

  Pax chose that very moment to slip his arms around her from behind and rest his chin on her shoulder. “Might as well make a good impression on the lady,” he whispered.

  “You already did,” Alana told him. “If you weren’t marrying me, she would have dragged you off to a hayloft and tossed her clothes in the corner.”

  “Oh, honey,” Pax said, “she’s not a hayloft girl. She’s more of a fancy dinner, five-star-hotel woman. Did she make you a little jealous?”

  “Not a bit.” Alana whipped around and put her arms around his
neck. “You’re a hayloft cowboy, not a satin sheets guy.” She heard the sound of the van’s engine starting, and asked, “Is she looking this way?”

  “Oh, yeah,” he answered, “and the window is rolled down.”

  Alana leaned in, and her lips met Pax’s in a fiery kiss. Her knees went weak and she felt as if she were floating. Every nerve in her body tingled, and her pulse raced so fast that she had trouble catching her breath. When she finally took half a step back, she had forgotten all about Crystal.

  “I’d hate to see what a jealous kiss would be like,” Pax teased. “That knocked my boots clean over into New Mexico.”

  “You’ll probably find mine pretty close to yours.” She took another step back.

  He chuckled. “Want to go get some ice cream to cool us both down?”

  “Love to,” she answered. “Let me tell Daddy. You go on and get the truck started and turn the A/C on high. We both need to cool down.”

  “Yes, ma’am, but you do know that after we’re married you can’t boss me so much, don’t you?” He flashed her another grin.

  “But until then?” She cocked her head to one side.

  “We’ll talk about that over ice cream.” He took a step forward and kissed her on the cheek.

  * * *

  Pax got behind the wheel and took a couple of long, deep breaths in an effort to settle his racing pulse and ease the pressure behind the zipper of his jeans. Usually, thinking about stacking hay in a barn would work, but not that evening. Neither did picturing himself wearing a fleece-lined leather jacket to keep warm while fishing in a calm river on a cold December night.

  It startled him so bad when the passenger door flew open that he forgot all about the desire shooting through his body. “It’s not cooled down much, but it was damn hot when I got inside,” he said.

  “As hot as that kiss was?” she asked.