Prairie Devil: Cowboys of the Flint Hills

by Tessa Layne

He placed a finger over her lips. “Hush now. We’ll figure it out. Heck, we’re figuring it out.” He crooked a finger under her chin, lifting so he could kiss her.

  “Seeing you with your niece–”

  “Seeing you with my niece,” he answered with a laugh. “When do you want to start making babies?”

  “Seriously?”

  “I’ll be ready… in about five more minutes.” He winked and thrust his hips, already half-hard for her.

  “There’s this small thing called my boot company,” she protested.

  More like a big thing. How could she care for an infant keeping the hours she did? But no way was he going to point that out to her. “We can discuss babies whenever you’re ready. We have more pressing matters.”

  “Like what?”

  “Like getting you a proper engagement ring.”

  “No.” She shook her head. “I want this one. You picked it out.”

  “But I picked it because it’s gaudy and I knew it would horrify you.”

  “You still picked it out. And it’s grown on me,” she added with that half sexy smile he loved so much.

  “I can pick you out something I know you’ll like better,” he offered. “I don’t want you wearing something you don’t like.”

  “No,” she said fiercely. “I want this one.”

  CHAPTER 31

  Her mother was pouting. She could hear it over the phone. “I don’t know why you and your sister are so against the Posse doing something for you,” Dottie groused.

  Lydia rolled her eyes as she wove through the crowded exhibition hall in Miles City, Montana. “How about you hold a luncheon at the diner? Now that you have a back room, why not break it in?” She still missed the Formica counter and vintage booths of the old diner, but when her mother had rebuilt after the tornado, she’d done it with an eye toward the future.

  “When will you be home?”

  “We’ll be home late tomorrow night. Colt’s last ride is this evening.”

  “Then three days from now will be okay?”

  “Colt’s insisted I take the week off from boot making. Something about him being worried my hands will be too swollen for the wedding ring. We’ll both be home all week.”

  “Smart man.”

  “Mama, I have to go, there’s someone waiting in my booth.”

  “Dinner will be waiting in the kitchen for you tomorrow night. Love you, sweetie pie.”

  “Love you too, mama.” Lydia clicked off and hurried the rest of the way down the aisle, shoulders tensing when she recognized Sammy Jo Carter.

  She tried to keep her voice warm. “Hi, Sammy. How are you?” She failed. The woman set off all the warning bells in her body. And while she’d never admit it to Colt, she hated that there had been something between the two of them. Even if it was years ago. Sammy Jo knew a piece of him that she’d missed out on because Colt had left Prairie. She was determined not to be one of those women, so she made an effort to be as gracious with Sammy as she was with everyone else. But the woman didn’t make it easy. In fact, it seemed like she went out of her way to send little darts Lydia’s direction whenever she was within earshot. “Can I help you with something?”

  Sammy Jo’s eyes went straight to her engagement ring, just like they always did. Giving in to the devil inside her, Lydia angled her hand so she could see the whole thing. Just in case she needed a reminder about who Colt belonged to. Sammy Jo’s eyes flashed. “When did y’all say you were getting married?”

  “Did you not receive the wedding invitation? It’s next week.” Was Sammy Jo playing her? Colton had invited all his sponsors. And while she didn’t like it, she agreed it had been the right thing to do.

  “Are you sure you know what you’re getting into, where Colt is concerned?”

  “Quite sure.” White hot anger shot through her. She didn’t have time for Sammy’s digs and twisted barbs. Not today, not ever. “Thank you for your concern. Was there something else you needed?” she asked coldly, not caring that Sammy Jo was responsible for a huge division of Carter Holdings.

  “I know your type.” Sammy Jo’s voice dripped with condescension. “I’ve known Colt for years, seen it all before. You think you can reform him. That your gentle hand will bring him to heel and that he’ll become your everything.” She shook her head. “Wild like Colt can’t be contained. And you’ll get burned if you try.”

  Lydia stood a little taller in her boots. Sammy Jo might have been a flavor of the week years ago, but Colt loved her, and nothing would get in the way of that. Especially not Samantha Jo Carter. “I think you’re jealous that you were the wrong person for him, and you can’t stand that he might be happy with someone else.”

  Sammy Jo lifted a shoulder nonchalantly and traced a finger over the embroidery on one of the boot tops on display. “Suit yourself. Just remember, I know where all his skeletons are.”

  “That so?” Let her think that. She knew where the older, darker ones were, and she’d never ever in a million years use them against him. “If you’ll excuse me, I’ve got real customers to take care of,” she said with a dose of saccharine, ignoring the tendril of doubt that sprouted in her mind. Turning her back, she approached the man hovering in the corner of her booth, admiring her newest sample, a bedazzled, embroidered ladies wedding boot. “Looking for yourself, or someone else?” Lydia asked with a smile. The man wore pressed denims and a custom-made suit jacket, but his boots weren’t quite up to Lydia’s standards.

  He extended his hand. “Treat Wilson, CEO Trinity Apparel.”

  “I love your brand,” Lydia answered excitedly as she took his hand. “Your ladies wear has ended up on my inspiration board for a number of my designs.”

  “That so?”

  “What can I help you with today?”

  “Can we sit?” He motioned to the chairs she kept in the center of her space. “A friend of mine ordered a pair of your boots earlier this spring in San Antonio.”

  “Oh? Who was it?”

  He sat, stretching his legs in front of him. “Adam Hawkins. We attended Harvard Business School together.”

  “I remember him.” A thrill ran through her at the thought of her first referral. She made a note to send Adam a bottle of wine if Treat made a deposit. “Python vamps, black tops with python inlay.”

  He grinned at her. “Excellent memory. Said they’re the best fitting boots he’s ever owned.”

  She flushed from the compliment. “I’m happy to hear that. I take a very personal approach with each client. As you know, a custom-made pair of boots is special. I want each pair I make to reflect the unique qualities of its owner.”

  “I like how you think Ms. Grace.” He nodded, as if checking off a mental box. “Tell me, what’s your turnaround time these days?”

  She had to keep herself from bouncing in her seat. This was why she wanted to cultivate more referrals. They were already sold on her boots before they stepped inside the booth. “Sadly, you’re looking at about twelve weeks right now. My business has exploded, which is wonderful, but I’m committed to never cutting corners. I want every one of my clients to have my best work.”

  Treat Wilson’s eyes lit up, and he nodded again. “Do you know that Trinity Apparel is a family-run company, and that we personally train every employee on every aspect of our garment construction?”

  “I knew that you were family owned.”

  “We’re very aware of the high rate of repetitive stress injuries in the garment industry, so we never let an employee do one thing for more than a few hours.”

  “And the switching hasn’t impacted your productivity?”

  “It’s improved it.”

  “I’m impressed.” Maybe when she had time to hire help, she could do that too. Her hands ached constantly.

  Treat leaned forward. “I confess, Ms. Grace, I didn’t come here for a pair of boots today.”

  Lydia’s heart plummeted to her boots, and she struggled to keep her smile in place. She’d have enjoyed
collaborating with him on a pair of boots. Already, she could see him in embroidered black calfskin. “Well, please give my regards to Adam. Tell him I’m glad he’s enjoying his boots.” She moved to stand, but he held out a hand.

  “I shouldn’t have been coy, Ms. Grace, but I had to vet you in person.”

  “I don’t understand?”

  “Trinity Apparel has been looking to bring a boot maker into our fold for the better part of a year. But we have high standards, and haven’t found the right company to partner with yet. Adam spoke so highly of you, and after researching what I could of your online presence, we’d love to talk to you further if you’re interested.”

  A laugh escaped her before her blood turned to ice. “I’m sorry, but I’m not interested. Thank you so much.” She moved to stand again.

  “Wait. Obviously, it would take some time, and more conversation, but we’re prepared to make you a very generous offer. And we’d keep the Grace name. We could guarantee you the same quality of boot, but with our facilities and staff, you could expand into ready-made, as well as take on more custom orders.”

  “That’s very generous of you, Mr. Wilson, but I’m not interested. I’ve poured my heart into this company, and I could never imagine giving it up.”

  His eyes drifted to her hands, and Lydia resisted the urge to hide them. “We started off small, too. Bootstrapped and grew in inches and fits. Worked long hours for days on end. I had the help of a sister and brother, but my sister developed arthritis in her hands and wrists from too many hours of stitching. There’s an easier way that won’t ruin your body in the long run.” He reached into his coat pocket and handed her a business card. “You wouldn’t have to give it up. We’d need someone to continue designing and managing the brand. Keep my card. If you change your mind, I’d love to talk to you.”

  CHAPTER 32

  Colt covered the length of the small room right off the chapel in four steps. Leave it to Mr. Punctuality to be late this afternoon. “Where have you been? Wedding starts in five minutes.”

  “Calm down, we’re here now,” Travis called from the doorway, a proud smile lighting his face. “You clean up good, little brother.”

  “We had to change Avery’s diaper.” Dax wrinkled his nose. “Again.”

  Colt would laugh if he wasn’t so nervous. “You have the ring?” He tugged at his collar, not used to having his shirt buttoned all the way up, but he’d wanted to wear a tie today. For Lydia. She’d insisted it didn’t matter, but he was determined to do things by the book. And that meant wearing a tie with his starched shirt and denims.

  Travis patted his blazer. “Right here in my pocket.”

  Pastor Ericksen stuck his head in. “We’re ready.”

  “About time,” Colt muttered under his breath. The hours since before dawn had crawled by at a snail’s pace.

  “Anxious much?” Travis teased.

  “Let’s just say I’ll be glad when the pastor says I can kiss my bride.” He stepped out into the sanctuary and took his place on the steps as Gloria McPherson finished playing the prelude. At the back of the church, Lydia’s twin, Lexi, and her younger sister, Carolina, signaled they were ready to walk down the aisle. As the organ began the wedding march, the congregation stood. Colt stopped breathing when Lydia appeared on her father’s arm. His throat squeezed so tight his eyes watered. “You are beautiful,” he mouthed silently.

  Her smile widened. “I love you,” she mouthed back.

  Her dress floated around her as she walked down the aisle, but she could have worn a feed sack for all he cared. He couldn’t take his eyes off her face. The rest of the church fell into the background as she moved forward and took his hand. His heart only started beating again when she stood on tiptoe to kiss his cheek. “Lookin’ mighty fine, cowboy. Wanna get hitched?”

  He kissed her back. “Hell, yes,” he whispered in her ear.

  Pastor Ericksen cleared his throat and began. Colt didn’t hear any of it, he was lost in the most beautiful pair of blue-green eyes to grace the planet. Only when they clouded with concern did he come out of his fog. Murmurs came from the congregation as people shifted in their seats, some turning and looking to the back of the church.

  “Wait,” called the last voice in the world Colton wanted to hear today. “You can’t marry her, when you have a baby due any day.”

  The congregation let out a collective gasp as Sammy Jo Carter, eyes glittering, flanked by her daddy and her uncle, strolled down the aisle with a very pregnant woman he’d never seen before, at least he didn’t think he’d ever seen her before. Beside him, Lydia went stiff as a board.

  He muttered a curse under his breath. He should have known better than to invite the Carters, but he’d invited all his sponsors. It was the right thing to do. He took Lydia’s hand, giving it a squeeze, eyes darting from the horrified looks on her sister’s faces, to Dottie and Teddy’s glower. His stomach lurched sickeningly. “What is this?” he bit out, voice like ice as he clamped down on the white-hot anger surging through him. What kind of sick game was Sammy Jo playing? And how dare she pull this on Lydia’s wedding day.

  “I think it’s pretty obvious, don’t you?” She turned to Lydia. “Still think he’s all that?”

  The stricken look on Lydia’s face nearly brought him to his knees. Taking Lydia by the elbow, he turned his attention to the Carters. “Come with me. Now.” He ushered them into the room where less than ten minutes before he’d eagerly waited for Pastor Ericksen to tell him it was time. He pulled shut the door, standing in front of it, ensuring no one would leave until he said so.

  “What in the hell is going on? Did you know about this?” He glared at Hal, who shifted uncomfortably and cleared his throat. “You did, didn’t you?” he roared, a breath away from losing his shit completely. Forcing himself to lower his voice, he continued. “And you waited until my wedding was in full swing to bring this to my attention?”

  Sammy Jo crossed her arms. “I’ve been trying to talk to you for weeks.”

  “Bullshit.”

  Harrison stiffened. “Don’t you talk to my daughter that way, son.”

  “It’s time you wake up and see what kind of person is. What kind of psycho pulls this shit at a wedding?”

  The pregnant girl started to sniffle. “You don’t remember, do you? How you promised you’d take care of me?”

  “Sorry, darlin’. I don’t recall ever seeing you before.”

  “Of course you don’t,” Sammy Jo snapped. “How could you, when your bedroom was nothing but a revolving door?”

  He stalked to her, crossing his arms to keep from punching something. “Is that what this is about? The fact that you and I were bad for each other and you could never let it go?” He swung his gaze to Hal and Harrison. “And you. Always looking the other way. How many lives does she need to ruin before you recognize she’s sick in the head?”

  Harrison’s face became mottled. “There’s… there’s, noth–”

  “Is she an actress? Did you hire her?” he bellowed, coming perilously close to losing his shit entirely.

  “Enough,” Lydia hollered, eyes flashing. “Everybody out.” She stamped her foot and thrust her bouquet toward the door.

  “Sweethea–”

  “Not a word,” Lydia cut him off.

  Colton opened the door and stood aside, glaring at each one of them as they filed out. As soon as the door snicked shut, Colton turned. “I–”

  “Uh-uh,” Lydia shook her head eyes flaming, holding up a hand. “Is it yours?”

  He’d never heard her sound like this. Harsh and angry. Voice lashing like a bullwhip. He shook his head. “No. I swear. I’d been celibate for months before I returned home at Thanksgiving.”

  She made a harrumphing noise in the back of her throat that sounded just like her mother. He loved her for it. “But what about the blondes in the hot tub?”

  “Didn’t even kiss them.”

  “Or any other blondes?” She narrowed her eyes suspi
ciously.

  “Not before Thanksgiving, and definitely not after. I’ve only had eyes for you since then.” She had to believe him. He’d never do anything to jeopardize what they had. He held out his hand, desperate to convince her. “Have I ever lied to you?”

  Her mouth thinned, but she shook her head.

  “Have I ever presented myself to you as anything other than I am?”

  “No,” she whispered, eyes filling with tears. The anguished expression on her face sent an arrow straight to his heart. He hated that he was the cause of her sorrow. And that her wedding day had been ruined. Anger spotted his vision. He would take the Carters to account for this. As soon as he got everything squared away.

  “Will you believe me then? I swear to you, I am not that child’s father.”

  She drew in a ragged breath, but didn’t say anything. She was slipping away. Somehow he had to convince her. “Look, give me five days to sort this all out. I swear, I’ve never seen this woman before in my life. Sammy Jo’s gone over the edge and managed to drag her father and uncle with her. I swear, I’ll make this all up to you.”

  “Why five days?”

  He pinched the bridge of his nose, staring at the ceiling. “This ain’t my first rodeo, sweetheart,” he answered quietly, shame exploding across his chest and heating his face. “It takes five days for a paternity test to come back.” Of course, his past would come back to haunt him on his wedding day. He’d been an idiot to think he could ever move beyond it.

  Lydia’s eyes grew wider. “Have you–”

  He shook his head. “Never. I have no children. You are the only person I’ve had unprotected sex with. Ever. But I’m a rodeo personality, hon, and some people would… like to profit from my success,” he finished. The door burst open, and Travis rushed in closely followed by Dottie, Teddy, and Lydia’s sisters. “For fuck’s sake,” he shouted. “Can we have a Goddamned minute of peace?”

  *

  The room exploded in a circus of sound and gesticulations, everybody shouting at once. If it wasn’t so awful, the scene before her might be funny. For starters, Lydia’d never seen her mother apoplectic, or Travis murderous.