His Valentine Bride

by Cindy Kirk

  Ryan wasn’t quite sure how to respond. Everyone in town knew that in looks she’d taken after her Las Vegas showgirl mother. He hadn’t really paid attention to her curvaceous figure—she was Keenan’s sister, for crying out loud—but had no doubt other men had noticed.

  “I told him that kind of talk wasn’t appropriate. That he was my employer.” A bleakness filled her eyes for a second, then disappeared. “He laughed and said if it bothered me, I’d have said something long before then.”

  Ryan chose his words carefully. “Had he made other overtures?”

  Betsy gave a jerky nod. “The first day I started, he made some comment about how my dress flattered my figure. It wasn’t so much what he said as how he said it. I didn’t like the way his gaze lingered on my chest, but I told myself I was simply being overly sensitive.”

  “Then what happened?” Ryan forced a conversational tone at odds with the anger sluicing through his veins.

  “The comments continued, becoming more blatant, more...crude.” Betsy’s eyes took on a distant look. “I started searching for another job, but there was nothing. And he was very careful to be perfectly respectful when we were around other people.”

  “How did you end up alone with him?”

  Thankfully she didn’t appear to take offense at the question. “One of the other attorneys was with us, but she got a call that her child was sick and had to suddenly leave. We were almost through, so I thought it would be okay.”

  “What happened?” Ryan asked through gritted teeth.

  “He started talking about how I wanted it, how I wanted him. I tried to laugh it off, but he was, well, he was acting crazy. He lunged at me, tore my silk blouse. I’m not sure how far he would have taken it. I used one of the self-defense moves Keenan had taught me and I got away.”

  “You should have called the police, charged him with attempted rape.”

  “It would have been my word against his...and we both know that his family’s reputation in the community is so much better than mine.”

  “Still—”

  She placed a hand on his arm. “He wanted to fire me, but I told him he would give me a good reference and say I was downsized. If he didn’t, I’d go to the police.”

  “The authorities need to know what he did.” His lips were stiff and the words sounded as if they were coming from far away.

  “Ryan.” Her tone took on an urgency. “Listen to me. You don’t know what it’s like coming from a family like mine. I want to put all that behind me. I don’t want to go to court and feel like a victim and then have people look at me and whisper and wonder what I did to encourage him.”

  Ryan clenched his hands into fists. “I hate the thought of his getting away with this.”

  “As do I,” she said in a sad little voice. “But that’s how it has to be.”

  “I suppose...” Ryan fought to keep a lid on the anger rising inside him. The thought of Chad talking to Betsy in that manner, of touching her, made him want to go over to his house and punch him in the nose.

  “You promised me,” she reminded him.

  “I won’t do anything.”

  “Or say anything.”

  “Or say anything,” Ryan reluctantly agreed, not liking this arrangement at all and already trying to think of a way around it. Must be the lawyer in him.

  “Thank you.” Her hand reached over and covered his, giving it a squeeze. Then, as if realizing what she’d done, she pulled it back. “You know, I vowed to never tell anyone about the incident.”

  “Why?”

  “I felt stupid, almost as if I was the guilty one.”

  “That’s how predators like Chad want you to feel.”

  “I know,” she said with a sigh.

  “You didn’t tell anyone?” A thought struck him. “Not even Adrianna?”

  Betsy shook her head.

  “Yet you told me.”

  “Maybe because you were available.” She gave a little laugh. “Maybe it was time to get it off my chest.”

  He winced at the pun and she chuckled.

  “Seriously, I feel better.”

  “I’m glad you do. But I’m mad as hell.” If Chad had been standing in front of him now, Ryan would have decked the guy.

  “I shouldn’t have said anything.”

  “No, I’m glad you did,” he said, realizing it was true. He’d known Betsy as long as he’d known Keenan. He’d watched her struggle to grow up in that difficult home life. She had every reason to be proud of her success in breaking free of her mother’s world. “That’s what friends are for.”

  Tears filled her eyes. “Do you really mean that?”

  “Absolutely.” Ryan looked into her soft blue eyes and made a vow. While Keenan was away, he would be Betsy’s champion, her protector and her friend.

  As long as he was around, no man was going to even look at her wrong. If they did, they’d answer to him.

  Chapter Four

  “That pond-sucking scum.” Adrianna’s green eyes flashed and she placed the dress back on the rack with extra force.

  Betsy had just finished telling her friend the same story she’d told Ryan last night. The way she figured, she couldn’t tell him about Chad and keep her best friend in the dark.

  When Adrianna had called Saturday morning and mentioned doing some shopping, Betsy had been seriously tempted to beg off. After recounting the tale of that night in the boardroom with Chad, she’d had difficulty sleeping.

  But she’d decided nothing would be accomplished by moping in her apartment. And she wasn’t in the mood to go over to Aunt Agatha’s home—with no heat—and clean.

  “Let’s not talk about Chad anymore,” Betsy said. “He’s so not worth the time.”

  Adrianna met her gaze. “You should file charges.”

  “That’s what Ryan said,” Betsy said with a sigh.

  “You told Ryan Harcourt the story?” Adrianna’s eyes widened with disbelief. “Before you told me?”

  Betsy briefly explained about running into Chad at Wally’s Place. “I have to admit I felt better getting it off my chest.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me when it happened?” Hurt underscored Adrianna’s words. “You had to know I’d be there for you.”

  “I was embarrassed,” Betsy began, then paused when the clerk, who’d been hovering just out of earshot, moved closer.

  “Is there anything I can help you ladies find?” the woman asked.

  Adrianna flashed her trademark smile at the plump grandmotherly type. “Thank you, but we’re just looking.”

  After making them promise to let her know if they needed anything, the woman bustled off to help a customer at the cash register.

  “Let’s talk about something more pleasant,” Betsy said. “Delivered any babies lately?”

  It was a question guaranteed to change the subject. Her friend loved her job as a nurse-midwife and could talk about it anytime, anywhere.

  Adrianna laughed. “All I’m saying is that nine months ago must have been an extremely busy time. It’s been crazy lately.”

  “Maybe one of these days it’ll be you or me having a little one.” The second the words left her lips, Betsy wished she could pull them back. With Adrianna being so commitment-phobic and her being so, well, it wasn’t as if men were beating down her door, the odds that either one of them would end up with a home and family of her own were decreasing every day.

  “Perhaps.” Adrianna gave a little shrug, her eyes giving nothing away. “By the way, did I mention that I got a text from Tripp Randall the other day?”

  Betsy thought for a moment. “Tall, sandy-haired guy? His dad had cattle?”

  “That’s the one.”

  “Does he still live in Jackson Hole?” She hadn’t heard the name since she moved back.

  “His parents do, but he’s been living back East since he got out of college.”

  Betsy wasn’t surprised. A lot of the people who grew up in Jackson Hole and left for college didn’t com
e back. But one thing did surprise her. “Why did he text you?”

  “His wife, Gayle Doyle, and I were friends.” Adrianna put down the gold sweater she’d picked up only moments before. Her hands fluttered to her hair, nervously pushing a long strand of chestnut hair back from her face. “We played on the volleyball team together. She was a wing spiker. You could always count on Gayle to make the big play.”

  If it were anyone else, Betsy would have labeled the talk nervous chatter. But Adrianna never chattered.

  “You remember Gayle, Bets.” Adrianna’s eyes were a little too bright. “She was a senior when we were freshmen.”

  Betsy thought harder and an image of a vivacious brunette came into focus. Betsy never realized she and Anna were friends.

  Acquaintances, yes. But friends? Gayle had been so much older. Not to mention popular.

  “So Gayle and Tripp married and now he’s texting you.” Betsy picked up a tan cardigan. Adrianna shook her head ever so slightly and Betsy dropped the sweater back on the stack. “My question is, what does Gayle think of his contacting you?”

  Sudden sadness filled Adrianna’s eyes. “Gayle died during childbirth several years ago.”

  Betsy gasped. “I didn’t think that kind of thing happened anymore.”

  “It doesn’t. Not often anyway.” Adrianna expelled a heavy sigh. “It’s always so sad when it does.”

  “What went wrong?”

  “The placenta separated from the uterine wall. There was massive bleeding. Both she and the baby died.”

  Betsy thought of Gayle with her laughing dark eyes and big smile. She’d always seemed so full of life. Now she was dead. “Did they have other children?”

  Adrianna shook her head. “That baby was their first.”

  “You still didn’t say why he contacted you.”

  “I think he’s lonely. He texts me every now and again.”

  Okay, so the guy was lonely. Betsy noticed her friend hadn’t really answered her question. “Sounds to me like he might be on the hunt for a new wife.”

  Adrianna took extra time inspecting what looked to be a snag in a pair of silk pants. She spoke without lifting her gaze. “Tripp lived down the road from me growing up. He was like a big brother. Sort of like you and Ryan. Same kind of relationship.”

  Betsy inhaled sharply. She’d often thought that Adrianna suspected she liked Ryan a whole lot more than she let on. Now she was unsure whether the comment meant that Adrianna liked Tripp, as in really liked him, or if they were simply friends. She put a hand to her head. This was getting so confusing.

  Adrianna placed the pants back on the rack. “Tripp wanted to tell me he was—”

  A shrill, pulsating sound filled the air, drowning out the rest of Adrianna’s words.

  “I’m sorry, ladies.” The clerk reappeared, but this time her friendly smile seemed forced and there were lines of strain around her eyes. “I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you to vacate the building.”

  “Is there a fire?” Betsy sniffed the air. She didn’t smell smoke or see any flames.

  “A fire hasn’t been identified.” The woman herded them in the direction of the front door as she spoke. “We’ve had some electrical problems the past few days. I’m sure this is part of that issue. Still, we can’t take any chances.”

  “Of course not,” Adrianna murmured.

  Once they were out on the sidewalk, Betsy turned toward her friend, eager to hear more. “Tell me—”

  Adrianna raised a hand and slipped her cell phone out of her pocket. With the sirens of fire trucks filling the air, Betsy hadn’t even heard it ring.

  Her friend listened for several seconds, asked a few questions, then told the person she was speaking with that she’d be right there.

  “What’s up?” Betsy asked.

  “Baby on the way.” Adrianna reached into her bag for her car keys. “Sorry to cut short our shopping trip.”

  Betsy glanced at the firemen hustling into the boutique. It didn’t look as though she and Adrianna would have been returning to that store anytime soon. “No worries.”

  “I’ll call you later and we’ll set up another time,” Adrianna said.

  “Then you can tell me all about Tripp,” Betsy said pointedly.

  “Nothing to tell,” Adrianna said over her shoulder as she started down the sidewalk. “Old friend. No big deal.”

  Betsy opened her bag and took out her keys, pondering the words. Old friends. She thought about Ryan. Thought about Adrianna’s blasé attitude. Thankfully Tripp lived far away. If he lived close, Betsy might have to warn Adrianna that a girl needed to watch out for old friends. They could be dangerous, very dangerous, to a woman’s heart.

  * * *

  The next couple of weeks passed quickly. Betsy and Adrianna talked on the phone but never did find another time to get together. At work, Betsy settled into a comfortable relationship with Ryan.

  He treated her like a good friend.

  She fell more deeply in love.

  Even though she tried to hide her feelings, she wondered if he was starting to see through her. Several times in the past few days she’d caught him eyeing her curiously when he didn’t think she was looking.

  Today she’d made a concerted effort to keep her distance.

  “In the mood for a cappuccino?” he asked unexpectedly as the end of the day loomed.

  Betsy would die for a shot of espresso, but it wouldn’t be wise to encourage such closeness. Just say no, she told herself.

  “Absolutely,” she said instead. “Do you want me to finish up these documents first?”

  “They’ll still be here tomorrow.” He grabbed her parka from the closet and handed it to her. “You’ll need this. The temperature has dropped at least twenty degrees since this morning.”

  “I haven’t been outside,” Betsy admitted, then swallowed a groan. Ryan had made it clear when she started working for him that she needed to take a lunch break.

  But he didn’t appear to make the connection. Instead, his eyes took on a distant, faraway look.

  “I met Cole for lunch,” Ryan murmured, his mind drifting back to their conversation. Talking with his friend about old football plays had gotten Ryan thinking that an offense-driven approach would be more productive than waiting around.

  It was then that he’d begun to formulate his game plan. He wasn’t sure how Betsy would react to his declaration, but he certainly wasn’t making any progress with his current strategy. He could have said something to her in the office, but because it was a personal issue, he wanted to do it in a nonwork setting.

  Because it was the Tuesday before Thanksgiving and midafternoon, Hill of Beans should be fairly deserted. After helping Betsy on with her coat—obviously made to withstand a subarctic blast—he shrugged on his own jacket, then opened the door and waited for her to pass.

  As she slipped out the door, he caught a whiff of vanilla and smiled. After almost two weeks he’d finally made the connection: Betsy smelled like his mother’s kitchen on baking day.

  A pleasant scent for a pleasant coworker. Having Betsy in the office had worked out better than he ever imagined. She was prompt, efficient and managed to somehow anticipate his every need. They were like a well-oiled machine. He hoped today’s conversation wouldn’t affect that happy balance.

  The wind was brisk, but thankfully the coffee shop sat just around the corner. Before long, they were inside the warm shop with cups of frothy cappuccino before them.

  “Got big plans for the Thanksgiving weekend?” he asked.

  “Adrianna is having a few people over on Thursday.” Betsy took a sip of her drink. “I’m helping.”

  “I bet you’re an excellent cook.”

  Red crept up her neck, although his comment seemed to please her. “I could be awful.”

  “You’re too competent at everything you do to be awful.”

  She frowned slightly and took a sip of her drink.

  Even though he’d meant it as
a compliment, for some reason that’s not how she’d appeared to have taken it. Since when wasn’t “competent” a good thing?

  “You’re right,” she said, finally. “I’m very good in the kitchen. In fact, my pumpkin strudel pie is to die for.”

  “I’d like to try it sometime.”

  Betsy merely smiled and took another sip of her cappuccino. “What are you doing for the holiday?”

  “My plans are up in the air.” In fact he’d deliberately turned down Cole and Meg’s invitation as well as a Thanksgiving invite from Travis and Mary Karen Fisher. All because he wanted to be available should this conversation go the way he’d hoped. “Betsy, there’s something I need to tell you.”

  Her dusty blue eyes met his. For a second, all he could think of was how pretty she looked in her pink fluffy sweater. And how her lips looked like plump ripe strawberries. Ryan shook his head to clear the thoughts.

  “You’re scaring me.” Two lines of worry furrowed her brow. “Is it something with my work? If I’m doing anything wrong, just tell me and I’ll correct it.”

  “It’s nothing work-related.” He offered her a reassuring smile. “You’re doing an awesome job. In fact, I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

  She expelled a breath. “Good.”

  “This is something personal.”

  Her fingers stilled on the large cup sitting in front of her. “Really?”

  While Betsy hadn’t given him permission to stray into the personal realm, she hadn’t shut the door either. Ryan decided to plunge through the slight opening he’d been given. “I’ve never had any trouble getting dates. Or talking to women. But when the woman is special to you and she doesn’t know she is, finding the right words can be hard.”

  Betsy simply stared.

  “Do you know what it’s like to want someone but not be sure if they want you?”

  Her eyes never left his face. She nodded slowly.

  “To wonder if they only think of you as a friend or if their feelings run as deep as yours but they’re afraid to say anything for fear of looking foolish?”