by Judith Stacy
“Guess we could all use a cup of coffee right now,” Tru said. “I’ve got a fresh pot already made. Give me some help, Ryan.”
Ryan frowned and showed signs of protesting. After all, Juliette knew, he had an equal stake in the discussion. But Tru clamped a firm hand on his shoulder and urged him toward the cabin.
She was grateful for the privacy he gave her. Slipping her hand into Camille’s, she led her away from the stock pen. They sat on the back lawn, their skirts fanned out between them.
“I know you’re wondering where we stayed last night,” Camille said, for the first time looking a bit apologetic.
“I am.”
“You needn’t have worried about us, you know. Ryan is the perfect gentleman.”
“How am I to know that when you ran off without giving me a single hint of where you’d be?”
Camille wrinkled her nose. “I was feeling stubborn, I guess.”
“Imagine that.”
She shrugged off Juliette’s sarcasm. “We stayed at a boardinghouse. I don’t even recall the name of it, but some friends of the McCords own it. It was very clean and nice. Nothing like the Paxton, of course. But nice.”
“And?” Juliette prodded, one brow arched.
“We had separate rooms, if you must know. I paid for my own from the allowance you gave me, even though Ryan didn’t want me to.” She leaned forward. “You needn’t worry, dear sister. My virtue is still intact.”
Juliette clucked her tongue. “Thank goodness for that, at least.”
Given the McCord virility, any woman would be hard-pressed to keep from giving herself to either one, even without benefit of marriage.
Herself included.
Camille sat back. “What of you, Juliette? You seem to be getting along well enough with Tru. How was your night with him?”
“Well, I slept in his room.” She paused a moment. “In his bed.”
Camille gasped and pressed a hand to her breast. “You didn’t! The two of you?”
“It wasn’t what you think.” She couldn’t help a regretful sigh. “I was alone the entire night. Tru slept in Ryan’s bed. I woke up with my virtue intact, too.”
“He gave you wildflowers.” Camille indicated the bouquet Juliette still held. “Very romantic.”
“Very.” Juliette inhaled their fragrance again.
Camille’s eyes sparkled. “And I’ll bet he kissed you, too, didn’t he?”
An instant blush sprang to Juliette’s cheeks. “That’s none of your business.”
“He did. I can tell. Don’t even try to deny it.”
She gave up. “Oh, Camille. He did.” She fanned herself with the wildflowers. “Lord, the man can kiss.”
They both burst into giggles, and the weight of Juliette’s worries lifted off her shoulders and floated away.
“They’re laughing, Ryan.” Tru approached, a cup in each hand. He hunkered beside Juliette and gave her one. “A good sign there’s no hard feelings.”
“What’s so funny?” Ryan asked, and handed Camille a cup of the steaming brew.
“It was nothing,” Juliette said quickly. It’d be just like her sister to blurt out their conversation, and how embarrassing would that be?
“Woman’s talk,” Camille said, and winked. “Men aren’t allowed to hear it.”
The brothers exchanged an amused glance, then Tru gave Ryan an encouraging nod. “This might be as good a time as any to say what you’ve got on your mind.”
Their humor faded in unison. Juliette’s heart began a slow pounding. This was it. The moment she’d been expecting. She felt as if she stood on the precipice of a giant cliff, with nowhere to go but down. But for her sister’s sake, she managed to smile in readiness.
Ryan threaded his fingers through Camille’s. “Miss Blanchard, I want you to know I love your sister more than anything. I give you my word I’ll take care of her to my last breath. Doesn’t matter to either of us that she’s a Blanchard and I’m a McCord. Main thing is, we want to be married.” There seemed to be no apprehension in him. Ryan knew what he wanted, and he was willing to fight the odds to get it. “It’d mean the world to Camille and me if you’d give us your blessing.”
Juliette thought of Father, the hatred that had consumed him. She thought of Mama and the mistakes she’d made for a man she never should have loved. And she thought of Tru, who’d risen above it all, instilled his ideals and honor into his younger brother and helped him grow into the person he was.
Camille was fortunate to have Ryan’s love. How could Juliette deny either of them?
She reached out and covered their joined hands with her own. “On one condition.”
Ryan and Camille held their breath in unison.
“You must promise to always call me Juliette. After all, we’re going to be family now.”
Chapter Eight
“Thank you,” Tru said quietly.
She dragged her gaze from the cabin. Ryan and Camille had disappeared inside, presumably to celebrate their betrothal in private.
“It would be a travesty to trouble their marriage with anything less than my complete approval,” she said. “I’ve no right to hamper their happiness, though God knows I’ve tried.”
“Considering all Avery kept hidden from you, it’s understandable your opinions of the McCords were what they were.”
Tru’s insight, his wisdom, humbled her. He, too, had been hurt by hard-hitting Blanchard ambition. And still he welcomed Camille into his life without reproach.
“Ryan will take care of her, Juliette. We’re not rich, but we’ve got plenty to eat. Folks around here are friendly. She’ll fit in as his wife with no problem.”
“I know.” Juliette sighed.
“Omaha’s not as big or fancy as New York, but she’s got the best of both worlds here. A trip into town will get her all she needs. Doctors included. And she’ll have the advantages of clean living out here on the ranch.”
“Yes. You’re right, of course.”
“So why are you still worried?”
“I’m not. Not really.”
He appeared skeptical. “Hard to let her go. I know.”
She drew in a shaky breath. “It scares me, actually.”
He seemed about to say something, then thought better of it. Rising, he extended an arm toward her. She took his hand, and he pulled her to her feet.
“What’s next, Juliette?” he asked. Keeping her fingers entwined with his, he lifted her hand to his lips and dropped a single kiss to her knuckle.
Her heart squeezed at the simple intimacy. Didn’t he know? Didn’t he realize the McCords had won? That she would never build her prized hotel on his land? That she’d lost Camille? That she had no choice but to go back to New York and start over?
“Everything has changed,” she said. “I’ll have to rethink my options, of course, but…”
Her voice trailed off. It’d been on her tongue to say “I’ll find a way,” but what if she didn’t? With the failure of her resort project, the Waite and Caulkings architectural agency would refuse her dream of becoming a female partner. Since Charles Hatman and Stephen Dunn had pulled out of the deal, she’d lost her financial backing. Aunt Louise’s reputation was compromised, too. And all the hard work from the past three years was for nothing.
Yet worst of all was the knowledge that no one needed her anymore. Not Camille or Ryan. And certainly not Tru, already on his way to becoming a respected stockman. He didn’t need her hotel’s money to find his success. He would do it all without her.
“I have something to show you, Juliette,” Tru said.
Her troubled thoughts gave way to curiosity. He led her toward the front of the cabin, where their horses waited.
“Are we riding somewhere?” she asked.
“Yes, but not far.”
“Where are we going?”
“You’ll see soon enough.”
Her curiosity increased tenfold. “We should tell Camille and Ryan our whereabouts.”
>
“Ryan will know where I’m taking you.’
“A conspiracy among brothers, then?” she asked, climbing into the saddle.
A corner of Tru’s mouth lifted. “Something like that.”
They rode off McCord land, heading east as they circled the oxbow-shaped lake that Juliette had fallen in love with so long ago. They pulled up somewhere on the other side, and Tru dismounted.
“Ever seen the lake from this angle before?” he asked, helping her from the saddle.
“No.” She scanned the thick growth of cottonwood and elm trees, the sprawling land with rolling bluffs beyond—not so different, really, than the McCord side. No roads led to this area, and it appeared virtually untouched by human hand.
“The Missouri’s that way.” Tru pointed east. “Steamboats bring folks and supplies in on a regular basis.” He swiveled his stance, tugging Juliette to look with him. “Union Pacific’s that way. West. Their trains haul passengers and supplies, too. Plenty of good, maintained roads leading from Omaha. Travel’s not a problem, except in the worst weather.”
“Yes,” she said. The very things that had led to her decision to choose Tru’s land for her hotel. From a businessman’s perspective, each one was crucial for the success of the project.
“Council Bluffs, in Iowa, is just south. Not far at all. I’ve lived here my whole life, Juliette, and I know for a fact they don’t have a resort hotel around these parts. Anywhere.”
Her pulse began to pound. She was afraid to think. To hope.
“What are you saying, Tru?” she whispered.
He stepped closer, slid his arms around her, holding her upright when she feared her knees might give way. “I’m saying build your hotel here. On this side of the lake. Might be you won’t have to change your design much. Maybe not at all.”
She clutched at his chest. “But the land’s not for sale. I already checked with Charles Hatman. He would’ve told me if it was.”
“Not for sale, no,” Tru said, lowering his head and nuzzling her hair, her neck. “But if you offer the same top-dollar price you offered me, it will be. I guarantee it.”
“How can you be sure?” She held on tight to hope, refused to let it fly free.
“I know the rancher who owns it. Gaylene’s father. He’s had rheumatism for years. Been wanting to slow down, spend his winters in Arizona. The money you pay him would get him there.”
“Oh, Tru. What if you’re wrong?”
“I wouldn’t tell you all this if I wasn’t pretty damn sure I was right.” He drew her earlobe gently between his teeth and nibbled. Juliette closed her eyes to savor the sensation. “I’ve got plans to build a house. With Ryan getting married, there’s no room for me in the cabin. Just say the word, and I’ll include an office for you.”
Her eyes popped open, and she drew back. “An office?”
“No reason why you can’t design your buildings from here, Juliette. Might be that architectural agency that means so much to you would let you work for them in Nebraska. If not—” he shrugged “—you can always start your own.”
“My own agency,” she breathed.
“We’ll all be right here. Camille and Ryan. Your career.” For the first time, he appeared to hesitate. “And me.”
Tru McCord was not a man who acted rashly. Everything he did followed a good deal of thought and preparation. Had she been on his mind so much? Had he pored over every possible solution he could think of to keep her in his life?
Yes, he had, and the knowledge filled her heart.
“I love you, Juliette. From the time I first met you outside that grocery store, I’ve loved you.”
“Yes.” She knew it. Felt it. Rejoiced in it. “I meant it when I said I’ve never stopped loving you, Tru. I worked hard in New York to forget you. My building designs were my salvation. They kept me from dying inside.” She speared her fingers into his hair. She ached for his kiss, to have his body pressed to hers. “I walked away from you once. I can’t bear to leave you again.”
“Then don’t. Marry me so you never will again.”
Elation soared through her. “Yes. Oh, Tru, yes. I will.”
His love had righted her troubled world in more ways than she could’ve imagined, and she would spend the rest of her life in complete devotion to him. His mouth took hers, hard and hungry, proclaiming his own devotion in ways words never could.
Long, deliciously hot moments later, his head lifted.
“Can’t think of a better time than spring in Nebraska to have a wedding,” he said. “Can you?”
“There’s nothing I’d like more.” She kissed him again and thought of Camille and Ryan. She smiled. “Except maybe a double wedding.”
ISBN: 978-1-4592-3152-8
SPRING BRIDES
Copyright © 2005 by Harlequin Books S.A.
The publisher acknowledges the copyright holders
of the individual works as follows:
THREE BRIDES AND A WEDDING DRESS
Copyright © 2005 by Dorothy Howell
THE WINTER HEART
Copyright © 2005 by Cheryl Reavis
MCCORD’S DESTINY
Copyright © 2005 by Pam Crooks
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