His Valentine Bride

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His Valentine Bride Page 11

by Cindy Kirk


  He shot Mr. Marstand an encouraging smile.

  Betsy picked up her cup of tea. “His name is Tripp Randall,” she said, taking a sip. “Like Ryan, he was a high school friend of my brother.”

  “Randall?” Mr. Marstand rubbed the gray stubble on his chin. “Is he related to Franklin Randall who owns Spring Gulch Land and Cattle?”

  “Isn’t that the big cutting horse and cattle ranch south of Jackson?” Betsy asked.

  “That’s his dad’s place,” Ryan confirmed.

  Betsy pulled her brows together as if trying to sort everything out. “Tripp is rich?”

  A lump the size of a large boulder settled in the pit of Ryan’s stomach. To someone from Betsy’s background, heck to almost anyone, Tripp’s wealth would be very appealing.

  “You don’t look very happy, punkin’.” Mr. Marstand’s worried gaze settled on Betsy. “Something troubling you?”

  “Yes, something’s wrong,” Betsy said. “I paid for Tripp’s drink at the bar last weekend because I thought he was in dire straits. I chastised him for buying a bottle of wine last night. I feel like a fool. That man definitely owes me an explanation.”

  * * *

  The minute she arrived with Ryan at Joel and Kate’s new home in the mountains surrounding Jackson, Betsy knew her day was going to get even more interesting. Standing inside the foyer, nursing a tall glass of hot apple cider was Tripp Randall.

  He lifted a hand in a semblance of a greeting and cast a pointed glance at her head.

  Betsy held up her aviator hat, but when he motioned for her to put it on, she shook her head. She was still angry about his deception.

  “We have a buffet table set up in the great room,” Kate said with a welcoming smile. “Help yourself.”

  Joel held out his hand and Betsy couldn’t think of any reason not to give him her coat. Except she had on pants with flannel lining that made her butt look big, and her ski sweater had a stripe across the chest—’nuff said.

  With Ryan’s help, she shrugged out of her bulky parka, placing it in Joel’s outstretched hands. The second Ryan handed Joel his coat, he placed his hand against the small of Betsy’s back.

  “Tripp.” Ryan’s smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I didn’t expect to see you here today.”

  Betsy had forgotten that Ryan thought she had the hots for the rich hospital administrator. Had he made sure Tripp was invited today? But was that before or after he’d kissed her so ardently?

  Tripp’s gaze settled on Betsy and his lips lifted in a slight smile. “I heard there was a party and invited myself.”

  “Don’t let him feed you a line,” Joel said after hanging up the coats. “Any son of Franklin Randall is always welcome in my home.”

  “You know Frank?” Ryan asked.

  It seemed a valid question to Betsy, because Joel had moved to Jackson Hole only several years earlier from Montana.

  “Building another guesthouse on his property was my first big job when I expanded my business to Jackson Hole,” Joel said as they walked down the hall to the great room at the back of the large log home.

  Joel glanced at Betsy and Ryan. “I understand you’re all old friends.”

  “Ryan and I go back to high school days,” Tripp said. “Betsy and I are relatively new friends. Of course, I’ve known her brother, Keenan, all my life.”

  “Does your brother live in Jackson Hole?” Joel asked.

  “He lives in Rawlins.” It wasn’t as if it was a big secret that Keenan was in prison, but Betsy didn’t feel like answering a lot of questions right now.

  “Betsy and I went to the Spring Gulch Country Club for dinner last night,” Tripp said. “I’d forgotten how good the food is there.”

  She breathed a sigh of relief when the conversation moved to the newly revised menu at the country club and off her brother. She didn’t have much to add. Last night had been her first visit to the country club. Before her eyes had been opened to the possibilities, she’d considered upscale dining to be dinner at Perfect Pizza, where you ordered at the counter but they brought the food to your table.

  The doorbell rang and Joel smiled. “Help yourselves to some food,” he said. “I think you probably know almost everyone here. If not, introduce yourselves. Once everyone has eaten, we’ll head outside.”

  Betsy stared at the group of people, many the same as she’d met in church. Some familiar. Some not at all. Children were everywhere, preteens to toddlers. The room buzzed with conversation and laughter.

  Even though Betsy considered herself to be fairly outgoing, she was suddenly overcome with the realization that she didn’t belong here. These were the beautiful people of Jackson Hole, the doctors, the lawyers, the elite. She was a legal assistant. A woman whose mother had been a showgirl in Las Vegas before turning to the bottle.

  Her breath came short and shallow as panic edged its fingers up her spine. “I’m going to run to the restroom and wash my hands,” she said to no one in particular, although both Ryan and Tripp were nearby. “I’ll be back.”

  She asked directions from a friendly blonde woman who introduced herself as Rachel Rossi and the curly-haired adolescent beside her as her daughter Mickie, then headed off the way they pointed.

  Betsy hadn’t gone far when she ran into Kate, looking as though she could have stepped off a cover of an outdoor-fun spread in a magazine. Her classic black ski pants looked like they had been made for her and the cable-knit sweater in a burned-orange didn’t look at all bulky.

  “It’s good to see you again,” Kate said with a warmth that surprised her.

  Betsy shifted from one foot to the other as a large peal of laughter sounded from the other room.

  “If my ears aren’t deceiving me that’s Mary Karen Fisher.” Kate smiled. “I swear the woman has never met a stranger. I wish I were more like her.”

  Betsy tilted her head, not sure she’d heard correctly. “But you’re very social.”

  “Thank you for that,” Kate said. “But the truth is I’m actually quite shy. The first time I went for breakfast with Joel at The Coffeepot and saw everyone sitting there, I wanted to turn on my heel and walk the other way...quickly.”

  Remarkably, Betsy felt some of the tenseness in her shoulders ease. She chuckled. “I had the same feeling when I walked into your living room. I told Ryan and Tripp that I wanted to go wash my hands, but it was an excuse. I needed to collect my thoughts.”

  “A few deep breaths doesn’t hurt either.” Kate smiled. “How about I walk in with you? It’ll make it easier for both of us.”

  “Sounds good.” But when Kate started to turn in the direction of the great room, Betsy placed a hand on her arm. “Can I ask you something first?”

  “Of course. You can ask me anything.”

  “You and Ryan dated.”

  “We did.” A hint of wariness crept into Kate’s gaze. “Right before Joel and I got together.”

  “What happened?” Betsy asked before it hit her that it might be too personal of a question. “If you don’t mind my asking that is...”

  “Ryan is a nice guy.” Kate’s fondness for the attorney was evident in her gaze. “We had fun together. I still consider him a good friend. But the spark, the sizzle, for whatever reason it just wasn’t there. Then I met Joel and I knew it was him. He was the one for me.”

  “Tripp told me that Ryan tends to run hot then cold with women.”

  “And I bet he told you that when things go south, you should think of him.”

  “I told him that Ryan and I are simply friends.”

  “Oh, sweetie, I’m sure he didn’t believe that any more than I do.” Kate’s eyes softened. “I’ve seen the way you look at him.”

  “Oh, God, is it that obvious?” Betsy brought her hands to her suddenly hot face.

  “No, of course not,” Kate said reassuringly. “But you do like Ryan.”

  Betsy settled for a nod.

  “If he wants to date you, then I’d give it a shot.” Kate sm
iled. “Think of it this way—what’s the worst that could happen?”

  He could break my heart, Betsy thought to herself, shatter it into a million little pieces and I’d never be able to put it together again.

  “You’re right,” Betsy said. “I don’t have anything to lose.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Betsy didn’t see Ryan when she and Kate returned to the great room, but Tripp was hanging out by a tall ficus tree decorated in bright orange lights.

  “Oh, my,” Betsy said.

  “I know they’re garish, but Chloe loves them,” Kate said.

  “It’s not that,” Betsy mumbled.

  “Then what is...” Kate stopped, then smiled. “Looks like you have your pick of men this evening.”

  “When it rains it pours.” Betsy could feel the medallion in the pocket of her pants. She wasn’t sure why she’d brought it. Courage, perhaps?

  “Look, if you want, we can hang out—”

  “Thank you, but as the hostess I know you have a lot to do.” Betsy offered a reassuring smile. “I’ll be just fine.”

  Kate searched her eyes. “Sure?”

  “Positive.” Betsy laid a hand on Kate’s arm. “I feel so much better after talking to you. Like I’m in the home of a friend.”

  “That’s because you are,” Kate said. “I hope you and I can become good friends.”

  “Mo-om.” A thin preteen girl who was a younger version of Kate motioned to her. “You’re needed in the kitchen.”

  “Go,” Betsy said. “I’m fine.”

  Kate gave Betsy’s arm a companionable squeeze. “Well, if you need me, you know where to find me.”

  What I need, Betsy thought, is a good stiff drink. Or perhaps a bubble bath. She’d always done some of her best thinking when up to her neck in fragrant suds.

  “Glass of wine, my dear?”

  Betsy looked up to find Tripp standing beside her, a glass of white wine in one hand and a glass of red in the other.

  “Which one is for me?” she asked.

  “Whichever one you like,” he said, shooting her a smile that showed off a mouthful of straight, white teeth. “I hedged my bets by getting one of each.”

  “Aren’t you the clever one?” She took the burgundy and glanced around the room. “Where’s Ryan?”

  “Does it matte—”

  “Of course it matters.” Ryan suddenly appeared beside her. “I was looking for you.”

  Betsy knew it was crazy, but she felt better just having him there. “I ran into Kate and we got to talking.”

  “I think you two could be really good friends,” he said.

  “You would know,” Tripp said. “You dated her for—”

  “It’s been great seeing you, Tripp, but Betsy and I have some things we need to discuss. In private.” Ryan’s gaze met Tripp’s. There was something in his stance, in the tilt of his jaw, that said the topic wasn’t up for discussion.

  “See you later, Betsy,” Tripp said pointedly before he walked away.

  Ryan held out his hand. “Take a walk with me.”

  Betsy glanced around. “Won’t it be rude to take off? We just got here.”

  Ryan chuckled. “I don’t mean leave, just walk around the house with me.”

  “Oh.” Betsy attempted a laugh. “You must think I’m stupid.”

  She knew it was because she was nervous. Oh, who was she kidding? It was Ryan. Whenever he was near he made her feel like an awkward schoolgirl who barely knew her own name.

  “There are a lot of things I think when I look at you.” He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Never stupid.”

  She didn’t know what to say, so she glanced around the room. “Look, Benedict Campbell is here.”

  Ryan muttered something. It almost sounded like a curse, but that couldn’t be right. She noticed Ben was standing by himself. “Maybe we should go over and say hello.”

  “Later,” Ryan said. “Much later.”

  He took her arm and steered her toward the stairs. “Have you seen the upstairs?”

  “We can’t go upstairs,” Betsy hissed, digging in her heels.

  “Joel,” Ryan called out as their host walked past. “I want to show Betsy the upstairs. Do you mind?”

  Something unspoken passed between the two men. Joel smiled. “Not at all.”

  “I won’t touch anything,” Betsy said.

  “No worries,” Joel said.

  “C’mon.” Out of the corner of one eye, Ryan saw Benedict headed their way. It had been hard enough to get Betsy away from Tripp. Ben wouldn’t be so easily dismissed.

  Ryan tugged on Betsy’s hand. This time she came willingly. They climbed the stairs together and stopped. At the far end of the hall was an alcove with a love seat. “This way.”

  When they reached the love seat, he sat and pulled her down next to him. He took the wineglass she held clutched in one hand and set it on the side table next to the small sofa.

  “What’s going on, Ryan?” Betsy’s brows were pulled together and her eyes were clearly puzzled. “Why did you bring me up here? Were you, are you ashamed of me?”

  Ashamed of her? “What are you talking about?”

  “You brought me up here, away from everyone.” She chewed on her lower lip. “I admit that I’m not exactly dressed the best. But that’s because I didn’t think it was going to be this grand affair. I thought we were coming to build a snowman and maybe have a snowball fight.”

  She looked so miserable that anger rose inside him. Betsy was a wonderful, beautiful woman. He’d like to get his hands on the man or men who had caused this insecurity. “You look lovely. And I brought you up here because I wanted to be alone with you. Not with you and Tripp. Or you and Benedict.”

  “You wanted to be alone with me? That’s why we’re here?”

  “Do you mind?” Without realizing what he was doing, Ryan held his breath.

  “I like being with you.” She smiled and ducked her head as if she’d said something intensely personal.

  But maybe she had...

  Unless it was simply his reading too much into the situation, it sounded as if she’d said she didn’t mind his pulling her away from Tripp and Benedict. As if she wanted to be alone with him as much as he wanted to be alone with her. The thought gave him courage.

  “I like being with you, too. That’s what I wanted to talk to you about.” Ryan took a deep breath. “I want us to date for real. Not this pretend stuff.”

  Betsy inhaled sharply, but her expression gave nothing away. “Really?”

  This was her reaction? Really. A response that told him absolutely nothing. He comforted himself that at least she hadn’t said no.

  “I realize you like Tripp, but I get the feeling you like me, too.” He forced himself to breathe past the tightness in his chest. “I’d like to give us a chance.”

  As she sat there, saying nothing, he realized that in his perfect world, she’d have flung her arms around his neck and cried out yes, yes, yes. But it didn’t look as if that was going to happen. He waited a few more seconds—which seemed an eternity—then spoke. “What are you thinking?”

  “What about Adrianna?”

  “What about her?”

  “You liked her. You thought she was—” Betsy paused and swallowed hard “—the one.”

  “I was mistaken.” Ryan couldn’t believe he’d ever thought he and Adrianna would be a good match, but he couldn’t say that to Betsy. She was her friend and might think he was dissing the woman.

  “Would you date me? For real?”

  “Yes,” she said. “I’d—I’d like that.”

  “You would?” Dear God, was that a quiver in his voice?

  She jerked her head downward, a short quick nod.

  He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close. “That makes me happy.”

  “It makes me happy, too,” she said, her breath warm against her neck.

  He kissed her gently, sweetly, with all the love in his heart.
r />   “This is so unreal,” she murmured, arching her neck back, giving him access to the sensitive skin behind her ear. “I’ve never—”

  She moaned as he sucked on her earlobe and he missed whatever she had said. He could have let it go, but he was curious.

  “You’ve never what?” he asked.

  “I’ve never dated two men at once before.”

  Ryan jerked back as the words registered. “Two men? What are you talking about?”

  “You and Tripp.” Betsy snuggled against him. “Before it would have just been him who was really interested. You and I were just pretending.”

  Ryan inhaled sharply. Surely she didn’t still want Tripp?

  “Tripp isn’t interested.” He couldn’t be, Ryan thought. He’d made it clear to his friend that he needed to back off.

  Betsy pushed away his hands and sat up, a strange look on her face. “What do you mean by that?”

  Take a second, Ryan’s rational part urged. Think before you speak. But he didn’t. He couldn’t let Betsy think of Tripp as a viable candidate for her affections. In the long run Tripp would only hurt her, and he couldn’t let that happen.

  “Tripp may seem nice,” Ryan said, “but he’s a player. Before he was married he dated a lot of women.”

  Betsy cocked her head. “Other than the married part, we could be talking about you.”

  Ryan paused. “It’s different.”

  “Is it because you don’t think he could be seriously interested in me?”

  Even though he wanted nothing more than to say yes, to tell her Tripp wasn’t serious, thank goodness for common sense popping up a red flag. Even without a warning, there was a vulnerability in her eyes that made him want to wrap his arms around her and never let her go. A protective urge that told him he would walk over hot coals rather than say something that would hurt her. Plus, he feared Tripp was serious. And that’s what worried him.

  “I don’t have any doubts. You’re a beautiful, desirable woman. The only thing I don’t understand is why some guy didn’t snap you up a long time ago.”

  The tenseness on her face eased and a warmth filled her blue bedroom eyes. Her lips curved up in a smile. “Perhaps that’s because I was waiting for the right one.”

 

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