The Accidental Bride

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The Accidental Bride Page 18

by Denise Hunter

“All right with you, Mom?” Travis asked.

  “Yep.”

  “Mind if I take yours? I’m on E.”

  “Keys are on the peg.”

  “Thanks.” Travis went for the keys, then rooted through the junk on his table. “Anyone seen my cell? I haven’t seen it since yesterday.” He’d missed it all day, that lump in his pocket.

  “You could call it,” Olivia said.

  “It’ll have to wait. I wanna get back before supper’s cold.”

  “You check the barn?” Shay called from the kitchen. “Third stall on the left?”

  Travis smothered a smile, remembering their return to the third stall the day before. He peeked into the kitchen. “Maybe you can help me look there later.”

  Shay hiked a brow. “Maybe I can.”

  The smile she put on his face carried him out the door.

  “Buckle up,” he told Olivia when she got in the passenger side. He put the truck in gear and headed down the lane. “How’s school going? You get that project turned in?”

  “Yeah, we did. School’s okay, I guess. I’m ready for Thanksgiving break, though.”

  “And then Christmas right after that.” The realization that he’d be there for the holidays buoyed his spirits. He nudged Olivia playfully. “How’re things on the boy front?”

  She groaned. “Boys stink!” She turned an innocent look on him. “Except you, of course.”

  “Oh yeah, of course.”

  Olivia bared her braces. “How old were you and Mom when you met?”

  “Your mom and I went to school together from the time we were little. Barely knew each other, though. We hung in different crowds.”

  “How’d you get together?”

  Travis smiled, remembering. “Well, after the summer of our sophomore year, I was walking through the hall and saw this tall, stunning girl—from the back, see, so I didn’t recognize her. Thought she was a new student. ’Bout that time, your mom, she turns around, and I saw who it was.”

  He’d felt like lightning had struck. Shay had grown a good four inches over the summer, and her face had matured. She had a tan that set off her green eyes and a mysterious smile that kicked him in the gut.

  “What happened next?”

  He chuckled. “Well, she turned and saw me gawking, so I looked away and walked right past her.”

  “You chickened out.”

  “Guess I did.”

  “Did you ask her out?”

  “For a while we just kept making eye contact. Over our books in study hall, across the cafeteria, down the hallway. Then another girl started flirting with me a lot, and I guess your mom thought I liked her. She wouldn’t look at me after that.”

  “What’d you do?”

  “Rode over to her house and asked her out.”

  “Just like that?”

  Actually, they’d exchanged words in her folks’ barn. It had escalated, passion sparking a fire the way it always did with Shay. In a fit of anger, she’d dared him to kiss her, thinking he wouldn’t, thinking he really cared for Marla.

  Boy, had she been wrong.

  He smiled. “Just like that.” Nothing he loved more than thinking about Shay. What a long journey they’d had.

  “Why didn’t you marry her back then, when you ran off together?”

  He shook his head. “Well, squirt, I let another dream get in the way. Never stopped loving your mom, though. Not for a minute.” He turned into his parents’ drive. “I regretted it soon after, but by then your mom was married. I thought I’d lost her for good.”

  “Were you crushed?”

  He traded a smile with Olivia. “Sure was. But God brought us back together, didn’t He? ’Sides”—he winked at her—“if I hadn’t left, there wouldn’t be you. And you, kiddo, were meant to be.” He ruffled her hair and watched her duck her head.

  Travis guided the truck down the lane, then pulled up to the house. “Gotta go grab some bills and stuff. You can run to the barn if you want. Bitsy had her pups a couple weeks ago.” He turned the key and exited the truck.

  “Cool.” Olivia hopped out her side and started for the barn.

  “Meet me back here in twenty,” he called, shutting the door.

  “ ’Kay, Dad!”

  He froze, the title catching him right in the gut. He watched her disappear into the barn, a smile of wonder lifting his mouth.

  Shay added salt to the pasta, lowered the heat, and set the timer. The past week with Travis had been different from all the weeks before. The glances, filled with meaning, the not-so-accidental touches . . . not to mention the necking in the barn when the chores were done.

  She waved her hand in front of her face. It wasn’t the steam that flushed her skin. She stirred the ground beef, unable to wipe the silly grin off her face. That an accidental wedding had morphed into a full-fledged marriage was just . . . amazing. That Travis was back in her life, loving her, was nothing short of miraculous.

  She’d looked at him numerous times that week with wonder. My husband. Travis McCoy is my husband. He’d asked what she was thinking when she looked at him like that.

  “Nothing,” she’d say, smiling each time. A little mystery never hurt anyone.

  Shay gave the beef a final stir and turned the heat down before setting the table. She was laying down the napkins when she heard a buzzing.

  Travis’s cell. She followed the sound, moving quickly. In the living room. No, in her bedroom. She walked around the bed. Under the bed? No, under the damp towel lying on the floor.

  She picked up the phone, glad she’d found it for him. The screen was lit, and a text stared back.

  Miss u, T! Only 3 more days. Can’t wait 2 see u! XXOO Ella

  An ache bloomed inside her.

  Ella? The woman from Texas? Three more days? What did that mean? Was she coming here? Shay set her hand on her chest where her heart kicked against her ribs.

  She looked at the text again. Hugs and kisses? She wandered into the living room and dropped the phone on the sofa, wanting it out of her hand. What was going on? Maybe there was a rational explanation.

  But how else could she take the message? Friends didn’t use Xs and Os. And she said she missed him. That she was going to see him in three days. Three days would be . . . Monday.

  The day their arrangement ended.

  Shay’s stomach twisted into a hard knot. It couldn’t be true. Everything he’d said this week, it couldn’t all be lies.

  But what else could it be? Why else would he be seeing this woman the very day their arrangement ended? Why else would he be in contact with someone who signed her notes with Xs and Os?

  He’s leaving.

  The realization hit her with sudden surety. He wasn’t even sticking around a single extra day.

  The memory of the jewelry package flashed in her mind like a beacon. He’d bought jewelry, all right. It just hadn’t been for her. He’d bought it for Ella, whatever it was.

  What have I done? Oh, dear Lord, what have I done? She palmed her forehead. She was such a ninny! She’d fallen for it all, hook, line, and sinker. When was she going to learn?

  Why had Travis done this? Why had he lured her into bed just before he reunited with his lover?

  It doesn’t matter why, Shay. What matters is that you fell for it again. Fell for him, head over heels. You’ve made a fool of yourself all over again.

  She sank onto the sofa, remembered it was where he slept. Used to sleep, she reminded herself. She leapt to her feet again. She was in love with him. Hadn’t she admitted it to herself just this week? And if that wasn’t enough to convince her, this terrible ache in her midsection was proof enough.

  The timer went off, and she went numbly to turn it off, setting everything to simmer. She returned to the living room, pacing like a caged cougar.

  What now? What should I do, God?

  She had to confront him. He had to leave, the sooner the better. If only she’d found out sooner, before she’d given herself to him. What had
felt beautiful and right before now only felt cheap and wrong. So wrong.

  She crossed her arms over her stomach. How could he do it? How could he take her that way, shower her with words of love, when he had another woman in the wings? It didn’t make sense.

  But then, did love ever make sense? Not for her, it hadn’t.

  She remembered the way Travis had reacted to Beau, all jealous and possessive. She gave a wry laugh. Wasn’t that funny, when he’d been carrying on behind her back the whole time? Hadn’t Garrett been the same way? Accusing her of flirting with other men while he came on to the waitresses at the Chuckwagon?

  Either she had the worst luck, or she was the worst judge of character this side of the Mississippi. She had a special talent for finding real winners.

  And now she supposed an annulment was out of the question. They would have to get a divorce. Shay felt the sting of tears. Twice divorced! Unthinkable for a woman who believed so strongly in till-death-do-us-part.

  She paced and thought and paced some more. She added sauce to the beef and gave it a stir.

  By the time the truck rumbled up the drive, her legs were limp and wobbly. Buck up, Shay. You have to do this. Be brave. Get through supper, then you can confront him alone.

  He’d know something was wrong. She wasn’t that good an actor, and he knew her too well. But he’d wait until they were alone to press her. She pulled in a deep breath and blew it out just as the front door flew open.

  Olivia shut the door and pulled her boots off. “It’s cold out there!” She had flurries melting in her hair. “Travis said go ahead with supper. Your truck’s making a funny noise, and he’s checking it out.”

  Shay hoped it took awhile. She got supper on the table and had Olivia say grace.

  “I’m starving.” Olivia ladled sauce over her pasta. “Travis said it’s supposed to be colder than usual this winter. They use solar patterns to make the predictions, know that?”

  “No, I didn’t.”

  “Travis said the almanac’s pretty accurate. He’s a good cowboy, don’tcha think, Mom?”

  “Very good.”

  “Jacob Whitehorse said Travis can rope like nobody’s business. I guess that’s why he did so good on the circuit, huh?”

  “Guess so.”

  “He’s teaching me, but I’m not too good. I’m gonna practice and then by next fall, maybe I can help with roundup.”

  Next fall? When had Olivia started looking at his stay as long term? Maybe since you started looking all goo-goo-eyed at the man.

  “Olivia . . .”

  “Mom, I was thinking.” Olivia played with her pasta. “You know I loved Daddy . . .” She looked up at Shay with a question in her eyes.

  “I know, hon.” Garrett hadn’t been much of a father, but children were sometimes blind to that. Especially when they had nothing else to compare them to.

  “But he’s gone, and he’s never coming back,” Olivia said. “And I really like Travis, and he likes me too.”

  Shay forced a smile. “You’re easy to like.”

  “Is it okay if I call him Dad?” The words burst from Olivia like a bull through barbed wire. “He’s more of a dad than my real dad ever was. He’s teaching me things and spending time with—What’s wrong?”

  Shay felt her food congealing in her stomach. How had this happened?

  She thought of the bedtime readings, the ride-alongs, the games of Scrabble. That’s how it happened.

  “Oh, hon,” Shay said. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

  “But, Mom—”

  “No, Olivia.” Her words shot out like bullets, propelled by fear. “I’m sorry, it’s just—”

  “That’s not fair. Maddy has a dad, all my friends have dads, and Travis is here, and he’s married to you and everything.”

  “You know this was a temporary arrangement.”

  “But things are—you’ve been getting along good. I thought . . .”

  Shay closed her eyes. This was all her fault. “I’m sorry. I should’ve made sure you understood. There’s something else we need to talk about.”

  “Well, it doesn’t matter.” Olivia dropped her fork on her plate. “I already did it.”

  Shay frowned, a feeling of dread snaking up her spine. “Already did what?”

  “I already called him Dad.” Olivia lifted her stubborn chin.

  Shay’s food sank like a lead weight in her stomach. She set her fork down. “When?”

  “Tonight at his folks’ place. I want him to be my real dad!”

  Shay stood, her chair squawking across the floor. She carried her half-full plate to the garbage and dumped it. Her thoughts swirled like flurries in a blizzard.

  She had to talk to Travis. Had to tell him to go. This had gotten way out of hand. Olivia would be hurt when he left, but she couldn’t help that. Better now than later when she’d come to love and trust him as her dad.

  “Why are you being this way? I thought you liked him.”

  Shay put her plate in the sink. “We’ll talk about this later. Finish up.”

  She grabbed her coat off the hook and tugged on her boots. She had to take care of this now before things got worse.

  The cold air smacked her face as she left the house. The sun had vanished behind the mountains, and twilight marched across the sky. Travis leaned over the engine of her truck, the hood propped over his head on a crooked spindle.

  She took the porch steps slowly, then crossed the lawn, the blades of grass crunching like brittle sticks of ice under her feet.

  “I love you, sweetness.” His words from the night before flashed, unbidden, in her mind. Stop it, Shay.

  She had to forget it. It was a lie. He probably said the same thing to Ella. Would say it to her on Monday when he saw her again.

  Her thoughts flew like rabid bats around her head. She stopped a safe distance away and pulled her frame upright. She was strong. She could do this.

  “Going somewhere?” she asked.

  “Not in this bucket o’ bolts.” He turned, a teasing smile on his lips.

  The grin fell away slowly. A crease formed between his brows. “What’s wrong?” Then his brows lifted and his head tipped back. “Oh. Hey, if you’re not cool with the Dad thing, that’s fine, Shay. I didn’t expect her to—”

  “When were you gonna tell me you’re leaving?” She jabbed her hands into her coat pockets.

  He jerked at the abrupt change in topic, then slowly lifted his hands, palms up. “Tonight. I was gonna tell you tonight.”

  Sure he was. “Before or after you slept with me?”

  He winced. “I should’ve told you before—was afraid you’d be upset . . .”

  “You were right.”

  He took a step forward.

  She stepped back.

  He stopped. “I didn’t expect to make the finals, and I wouldn’t go at all except my friend Seth is my team roping partner. He’s never been. It’s his dream.”

  The rodeo? This was about the rodeo again? Her breath came out in a wry laugh. She couldn’t even compete with the rodeo, much less another woman. She felt the sting of ancient tears and blinked them back.

  “I’ll be back in a few weeks at most.”

  Like heck he would. “You need to leave, Travis. Tonight.”

  His mouth opened, then closed.

  She forced herself to meet his eyes. Be strong. You can do this, Shay. You have to do this. For Olivia. For yourself.

  “What?” He took a step, reached for her.

  She stiffened. “Don’t touch me.”

  His hand fell to his side. He pushed his hat back. “It’s just one competition, Shay. I know I should’ve told you, but when it’s over, I’m coming back.”

  She swallowed against the hard lump in her throat. “Don’t bother.”

  He looked away, at the barn. Then he looked at her again. “You don’t mean that.”

  She steeled herself against the hurt in his eyes. She repeated the text message in her head
, right down to the Xs and Os. She toyed with the idea of tossing it in his face. But this was humiliating enough.

  “Tonight, Travis.”

  He exhaled, his breath fogging in front of him. He pulled his hat and rubbed his jaw. Set his hat back on his head. A shadow flickered on his cheek. “Our agreement is through Monday,” he said. “I have a right to stay till then.”

  “I don’t give a fig about the agreement.”

  He rubbed his jaw. “We had a deal.”

  “I’ll pay back everything I owe you.”

  “I don’t care about the stinking money, Shay!”

  Maybe she could get that in writing. He sure wasn’t worth his word. If she were smart, she would’ve learned that fourteen years ago.

  She walked past him, pulled the rod, and set the hood down. “I’m taking Olivia for hot chocolate. Pack up and be gone before we get back.” She met his gaze. “Don’t call, don’t write, and don’t come back.”

  When she passed, he took her arm. “What about—my gosh, Shay, didn’t it mean anything to you? What about everything we did—everything we said?”

  She pulled her arm from him and looked him square in the eye. “Yeah, Travis. What about it?”

  31

  Travis stared aimlessly down the dark Mojave Freeway. Ahead, a semi’s taillights led the way, and darkness pressed in from every side. His grip was loose on the steering wheel. It was late and had been a long day of traveling, but he wasn’t so much tired as bone-weary.

  Weary and empty. The emptiness started three days earlier, when Shay drove off with a tearful Olivia. He’d gone to the Barr M, hoping Shay would see reason once the dust settled. But her phone had gone to voice mail each time he’d called, and she hadn’t been at church. He’d come around Sunday evening, hoping for one last chance to talk, but she and Olivia were gone.

  They’d been the slowest three days of his life. But then Monday came calling, and the farther he got from Moose Creek, the more riled he became. Didn’t she know he planned to return? He’d left messages saying as much, but she either didn’t buy in or didn’t give a hoot.

  It was only three measly weeks. One lousy rodeo—and not even for him, but for his friend. But the longer he drove, the more time passed with no word from Shay, he wondered if there were any point in returning.

 

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