Cowboys Under The Mistletoe: Five Christmas Christian Romance Novellas

by Kristen Ethridge

  “Okay,” he said after an extended pause. He blew out a frustrated breath. “But don’t think for one moment you’re getting out of this. I’ve been waiting for most of my adult life to confront a Weaver.”

  He spat her name as if it were sour milk.

  The man was certifiable. But she’d think about that later.

  “Maybe I should be the one going back to the fellowship hall to check on Chelsea. I am praying the event planner has turned up while we’ve been away.” She figured it might be better, for a minute or so, for them not to be in the same room together. Give the rough and tumble cowboy time to cool his jets. And possibly give her a second to try to take a wild stab at what in the world he was talking about.

  Matthew Wilde.

  Nope. Still nothing.

  “I’ll get Father James and meet you back there,” he agreed with a surly nod.

  Riley returned to the fellowship hall to find Chelsea on the floor, collapsed in a sobbing heap and surrounded by her three bridesmaids, who were attempting without success to comfort her in her distress. Chelsea wasn’t a roaring, raging bridezilla.

  Not yet, anyway.

  Right now, she was a train wreck.

  Brady was on the other side of the room, pacing back and forth, clenching and curling the brim of his cowboy hat so hard Riley thought he might be ruining the shape of it.

  Riley’s heart leapt out to her best friend, sympathizing with her pain. Chelsea loved Brady so very much. He was everything to her, and she to him, and their special day was about to be ruined, thanks to the even planner’s no-show.

  Riley couldn’t even imagine what that kind of forever love felt like. She had only casually dated, but she’d never been in love. She had, however, had dreams suddenly taken away from her, having a rug suddenly yanked out from under her feet. So in that, she could empathize.

  But true love? Not so much.

  Who had time for that? With her dog-eat-dog career where she had to fight for every little scrap, she’d been too focused on her job to put any effort into a relationship, and recently she’d been too anxious about where things were heading in said career to have time to connected to the right guy on a deeper level.

  Not that she’d ever found the right guy.

  She supposed at her age she ought to be panicking that a potential husband wasn’t even on her radar. She wanted a family, after all. Four kids, at least.

  But she wasn’t going to go on an internet dating site fishing for one. If Mr. Right was out there somewhere, God was going to have to shove him into her life so forcefully that there was no doubt.

  Face to face. Nose to nose.

  Presumably, she’d know it was him, just as Chelsea had with Brady.

  Zero to The Wedding is Tomorrow in six short months. That’s how it had been for Chelsea and Brady.

  And now it was looking like pulling their wedding together was going to be a twenty-four hour miracle event.

  Assuming they could pull a wedding together by tomorrow at all.

  Without the event planner, they had nothing except the formalwear, which everyone in the wedding party had already picked up, Chelsea included. So at least she had her bridal dress.

  Just nothing to go with it.

  No caterer, no cake, no reception, no flowers.

  Nothing.

  Riley vacillated between wanting to comfort her best friend and needing to move forward on plans that she hoped would save the day.

  Ultimately, she approached Brady.

  “So, I’m assuming it’s a no-go on the event planner?”

  Brady punched his fist into his palm and growled in frustration.

  “She finally picked up the phone and talked to me a couple of minutes ago. She came clean about everything that’s happening. Or rather, not happening. Apparently, her business went under about two weeks ago. She said she was struggling desperately to stay afloat, but in the end, she lost everything and all of her contracts with vendors were cancelled.”

  “Which leaves you and Chelsea with nothing. Unbelievable.” Riley frowned. “Why didn’t Allie admit that her business had shut down in time for Chelsea to make other arrangements?”

  “She says it was out of the goodness of her heart. She wanted to honor this last commitment and was scrambling to find another way to do so. But without the vendors, she had—has—nothing.”

  Riley scoffed. “When, exactly, was she planning on telling you all this? Or was she just not going to show up and let you guys down without a word?”

  “Door Number Two, I’m afraid. But after I’d phoned her number again and again for a full five minutes with no intention of giving up until she picked up, her guilty conscience kicked in and she answered to explain why she isn’t here.”

  “Unbelievable.” Riley shook her head. “I can’t believe anyone could be so thoughtless. Did she even consider what this would do to you guys?”

  “I have to believe she really was trying to do her best to come through for us. I think in her heart she didn’t want to admit defeat, rather than that she was acting selfishly.”

  Riley snorted. “You’re being far more gracious than I would be in your circumstances.”

  Brady’s concerned gaze flashed to Chelsea, still a sobbing heap on the floor.

  “I don’t like that Allie hurt Chelsea, though.” His jaw tightened. “I hate it when she cries, when I can’t protect her from pain or fix her problems.”

  Riley could only hope that if she ever did get married, her groom would love her half as much as Brady adored Chelsea. The wedding was only the first day of the rest of their lives.

  “But honestly, I’ve got nothing,” Brady admitted, his throat closing around his voice. “I’m fine with marrying Chelsea without any of the frippery, but she wanted her wedding to be special.”

  “We’ll do it,” came a deep voice from behind Riley’s left shoulder, causing her to start in surprise. “We’ll fix the problem, “Matthew continued, stepping in beside Riley.

  She couldn’t have been more shocked than if Matthew had started quacking like a duck.

  Where was the surly cowboy who’d been accusing her of who-knew-what horrible things? The man before her now was the epitome of strength and support.

  And he was 100% correct on one thing.

  They would fix this problem. Somehow, the two of them, along with the rest of the wedding party, would make this disaster into something wonderful that Chelsea and Brady would never forget.

  “What he said,” she agreed, prompting Matthew to narrow his gaze on her.

  “The pastor is waiting for us in the sanctuary. He has officiated literally hundreds of weddings since he was ordained and is happy to guide us through the motions. We don’t need a wedding planner for that,” Matthew informed Brady briskly.

  “Afterwards, at the rehearsal dinner, we can plan our work and work our plan,” Riley added, trying to keep her tone upbeat.

  Brady looked from Matthew to Riley, his expression still grim but a note of hope gleaming from his blue eyes.

  “Do you think we can pull this off?”

  “I know so,” Riley said. “Please assure Chelsea that we’ve got it in our capable hands. You can both depend on us to get the job done. You just worry about taking care of each other.”

  “The wedding is set for what? At five o’clock tomorrow afternoon?” Matthew asked. “That gives us twenty-four hours to make it happen. And we will.”

  The strength of Matthew’s statement almost convinced Riley he could wave a magic wand over this disaster and—POOF—everything would turn out perfectly.

  Of course, in reality, Riley knew it was going to be much, much more difficult than that.

  She was grateful for how Matthew’s confidence affected Brady, who straightened his shoulders and set off to let his bride-to-be know that the cavalry, in the form of their very own wedding party and headed by the Best Man and the Maid of Honor, had arrived, bugles blaring.

  A thought occurred to Riley and
she touched Matthew’s elbow to gain his attention.

  “I think our first hurdle is much closer than we anticipated.”

  He lifted his eyebrows and his gaze darkened. “Meaning?”

  “Do you have any idea where the rehearsal dinner is supposed to be? Chelsea said it was supposed to be a big surprise and we’d find out after the rehearsal. But of course, that was before. . .”

  “Not a clue. Let me pull Brady aside and ask him. Presumably they have reservations somewhere.”

  Riley groaned. “I have a feeling this is going to go downhill very fast. If the rehearsal dinner is planned for where I think it might be planned, we are going to have to come up with a Plan B lickety split. But Matthew,” she said, stretching up on tiptoe so he could hear her soft suggestion. “Don’t let Chelsea hear what you’re asking Brady. I don’t want her any more stressed than she already is.”

  His lips quirked in annoyance. “Give me some credit here. I’m not totally heartless.”

  No, Riley thought snarkily. You just attack complete strangers for no apparent reason.

  She watched as Matthew pulled Brady aside and whispered something in his ear. Brady’s eyes widened and then he shook his head. Matthew frowned.

  Nothing, but nothing, was working in their favor.

  “It’s a no-go,” Matthew said as he returned to Riley’s side.

  “Yeah, I gathered that much. Now tell me something I don’t know.”

  “The rehearsal dinner was supposed to be at this swanky, upscale restaurant in downtown Denver,” he said, then shook his head as if he didn’t understand a word of what he’d just said. “Allie was supposed to rent a couple of those large limousine SUVs to take us there. That’s nixed as well, obviously.”

  “Obviously.”

  He snorted. “Frankly, I don’t get it. I know Brady is head-over-boots in love with Chelsea, but swanky restaurants aren’t his style at all, and it appears they spent a boatload of money on all this—money that went down the tank with Allie’s business. I don’t know why they would plan something like that, anyway. I have to say I’m surprised Chelsea didn’t take Brady’s wishes into consideration.”

  “Whatever makes Chelsea happy makes Brady happy,” she reminded him.

  “Yeah, but a high-end restaurant?”

  “Sylvestre’s,” Riley replied immediately. “It’s been a fantasy of Chelsea’s since she was a little girl in boarding school. I imagine Brady was just trying to give his bride the wedding of her dreams. You can’t fault him for loving her enough to want her to have everything she’s ever wanted.”

  “I see,” he said, sounding as if he really didn’t. He rubbed a palm across his darkly-stubbled jaw. “Well, unfortunately, that particular road is beyond repair. Bridge out.”

  “Do you think? I could call Sylvestre’s and confirm our reservations, as well as the limo company. Surely they must have something on their books. I just have to sound like I’m in charge.”

  Matthew huffed. “You could, but you’d be wasting your time. Brady said that everything Allie did is null and void. She burned all of her bridges in a major way when she couldn’t pay for everything.”

  “But didn’t Chelsea prepay?”

  Matthew’s gaze locked on hers. “Exactly what I was thinking. Whatever money Chelsea had saved for her wedding is long gone.”

  Riley suddenly felt as if her chest was full of thick, muddy quicksand. They were sinking fast.

  “All right,” he said. “What’s our Plan B?”

  He actually stared at her as if she had a Plan B.

  “I have no idea. We’ve got to come up with something fast.”

  “Fast. Exactly.”

  “Come again?”

  “Fast food. We can set up a few tables here in the fellowship hall and order pizzas. It’ll be on me. That’s the least I can do for my best friend. What do you think?”

  “I think it’s brilliant. Truthfully, from the look of these folks, they’d probably be more comfortable with pizza and soda than they would all spiffed up at a fancy restaurant, anyway.”

  “Definitely,” he agreed. “I’ll call Cal’s Pizza now and set up a delivery.”

  “Do you want to pass the hat to pay for it?”

  He shook his head. “I’ve got this. We’ll need the hat passing for other things. Why don’t you get everyone headed in the right direction and I’ll catch up with you.”

  “Ladies and gentlemen,” Riley called, to get everyone’s attention. “If you’ll all follow me to the sanctuary, Father James is waiting to guide us through a quick run-through of what will be happening tomorrow.”

  Brady pulled Chelsea to her feet and held her tightly around the waist, whispering encouragement in her ear as she regained her composure.

  Riley slipped her hand under Chelsea’s arm to support her on the other side.

  “Did Matthew tell you? We’re going to make this happen. I promise.” Riley mentally crossed her fingers and shot a quick, desperate prayer heavenward.

  “No matter what, babe, we’re getting married tomorrow,” Brady said, his tone strong and determined. “If it’s just us and the wedding party with no flowers and frills, then that’s what it is. The important thing to remember is that at this time tomorrow, we’ll be husband and wife.”

  Brady had a point. All they really needed was a priest and witnesses. Everything else was insignificant compared to joining their lives together before God.

  Chelsea wiped her eyes with the handkerchief Brady handed her and nodded, then hiccupped due to having hyperventilated.

  “I know,” she said, her voice cracking. “You’re right, of course. It’s just that--”

  “That every bride dreams of her perfect wedding day,” Riley finished for her. Riley was grateful for what Brady was trying to do, offering Chelsea his full support, but he was a guy, with a guy’s mentality. Storm through the wedding and get to the honeymoon, where he could be alone with his sweetheart. Brady was a wrangler. Details weren’t his forte. He was just along for the ride.

  But details? Those were well within Riley’s skill set. Or at least they had been, until the boss’s son at her old job in California had—

  No. She didn’t have the time or energy to go there now. It was time to run through the who-did-what-when.

  Thankfully, the rehearsal went off without a hitch. The six-year-old ring bearer and three-year-old flower girl, one of the bridesmaid’s children, were adorable. Riley had no doubt they would steal the show.

  Riley managed to walk the length of the aisle without stumbling, which she counted as a win. Tomorrow, when she was dressed in a long gown and high heels, would be considerably more challenging.

  Chelsea settled down the moment she met Brady’s loving, encouraging gaze. He held her gaze and held out his hand to her. She gave him a wavering smile and clutched at her father’s arm as he escorted her up the aisle to her groom-to-be.

  The only one appearing not to be enjoying himself was Matthew. He kept shifting from one booted foot to the other, beads of sweat popping out on his forehead underneath the brim of his hat. Most telling as to his state of mind was the way he kept pulling at the collar of the black cotton t-shirt hugging his muscular frame, as if it was suddenly a size too small.

  Riley’s lips quirked in amusement. Brady ought to be the one panicking right about now, but he looked eager. It was clear the ceremony couldn’t come too soon for him. His gaze never left Chelsea’s face.

  Only Matthew appeared disconcerted by the whole mock ceremony. Apparently, weddings weren’t his thing.

  She wasn’t able to confirm her theory until Matthew was escorting Riley down the able at the end of the rehearsal.

  Her first observation was definitely true. The man was well-built. His bicep quivered under her palm and she couldn’t stop herself from exploring the curve of his arm in more depth, appreciating the muscles and planes.

  “You don’t like weddings?” she whispered up at him as they walked.

 
“As a general rule, no. Especially if I have to be in the wedding. If it wasn’t Brady. . .” He let his sentence trail away unfinished.

  “You looked like you were choking up there.”

  “I was just thinking about having to wear a bow tie tomorrow. Unpleasant memories, you know?” He reached for his collar with his free hand and slid a finger under the material, swallowing so hard his Adam’s apple bobbed.

  Bow tie.

  A memory began swirling through Riley’s mind.

  Was it a memory?

  Perhaps he had seen a photograph that was prompting the sudden picture in her mind.

  Either way, she finally knew where she’d met Matthew Wilde before.

  “You’re him,” she said.

  “Hmm?”

  “Bow tie boy. The rascally ring bearer at my Auntie Heather’s wedding twenty-some-odd years ago. I must have been about three years old.”

  His gaze narrowed and he nodded briskly.

  “Is that why you don’t like weddings?”

  He shrugged and his bicep tightened.

  “Is that why you don’t like me?”

  She vaguely remembered that the little boy hadn’t overly liked her. He’d stuck his tongue out at her and she’d stomped on his foot. But that explanation seemed awfully childish and immature. Surely there was more to it than that. Or maybe she was wrong altogether.

  They’d cleared the sanctuary by then and Matthew jerked his arm away from hers.

  His gaze narrowed on her once more, spewing sparks from his blue eyes.

  “Are you kidding me right now?” he growled.

  Well, kind of. But since she didn’t have anything else to go off of besides that long-ago wedding, what else was she supposed to think?

  “Why don’t you just spit it out?” she suggested in a low hiss. In unspoken agreement, the two of them moved away from the group gathering just outside the entrance to the sanctuary.

  Neither of them wanted to air this—whatever this was—in a public venue.

  “You’re just going to stand there and pretend you know nothing?” he demanded.

  “I don’t know anything,” she whispered harshly, thoroughly exasperated. “The last time I saw you, I was three years old. Please. Enlighten me.” If she sounded snarky, it was his doing.