The Horseman's Bride

by Marilyn Pappano

  She had never felt less like celebrating a birthday in her life, Shay thought as she stared at herself in the bathroom mirror. Her makeup was exquisitely done and covered the shadows under her eyes. Her hair looked better than it did on the best of days. The rich, dark gold of her sweater made the brown of her eyes appear richer and darker.

  She looked great. And felt like hell.

  A rumble of thunder made the windowpanes vibrate, drawing her gaze that way. It had been pouring since before dawn—fitting, she thought. There would be no party around the pool. Any party at all was unwanted, but that would have been a reminder she couldn’t bear.

  “Shay?” Olivia knocked at the door. “You can’t stay in there all day.”

  “Why not?” she grumbled. “I’ve got everything I need in here.”

  Olivia opened the door and gave her a sympathetic smile. “Come on. Everyone’s waiting.”

  “Not everyone.” Easy wasn’t out there. She hadn’t seen or heard from him in the week since he’d told her to get out. He’d stayed out of sight the two times she’d gone to feed Gambler. After that, Guthrie had volunteered to care for the horse, and she’d let him. Instead, she’d hung around the café and her house, hoping—praying—that Easy would come looking for her.

  He hadn’t.

  “This is the first birthday party your mama’s given you in fourteen years,” Olivia said. “Try to look like your world isn’t falling apart, would you?”

  Shay pasted on a phony smile. “How’s that?”

  “Pretty pathetic. Come on. Let’s go get some food.”

  Arms linked, they walked down the hall into her mother’s family room. Her father gave her a kiss and a cup of fruit punch. Shay would have given a lot for something stronger, but to get that, she would have to find someone concealing a flask, and she wasn’t up to figuring out who that might be.

  Olivia went to help Mary in the kitchen, leaving Shay to face half the town. Though she’d rather cry, she smiled at jokes about getting older and gray hair, about creaking joints and biological clocks. She didn’t have to worry about hearing Easy’s name, though. It was almost as if he’d never come back, except for the discomfort. Folks were making an effort to not mention his name, and it increased her own discomfort. She wasn’t sure she could stand another minute of it when Reese appeared at her side and drew her off to a quiet corner of the island that separated family room from kitchen.

  “Thank you,” she murmured as she slid onto a bar stool.

  “You looked like you just might strangle Mrs. Davis I’d hate like hell to have to arrest you on your birthday.”

  “But you’d do it, wouldn’t you?” Her smile was mirthless as she gazed over the crowd. “Give me another hour here, and jail might look real appealing.”

  “Every party needs a pooper—” When she glared at him, he broke off. Looking properly chastened, he said, “You look damn good for thirty-five, Shay.”

  “It’s the miracle of cosmetics.”

  “Right. If cosmetics could make all women look like you, then all men would be happier.”

  Not all of them. There was one who was none too eager to gaze on her face.

  “I hear Olivia Harris is pregnant It won’t be long before you will be, too, will it?”

  Her narrowed gaze settled on his face. “It takes two, darlin’. You volunteering?”

  “No way. I imagine Rafferty could do some serious damage with that cane of his.”

  She swallowed hard, trying to ignore the pain that tightened her chest. “I don’t imagine Rafferty would care.”

  “Oh, yeah, right. I don’t imagine that there’s been a day gone by in the last fourteen years when he didn’t care.”

  “If this is your way of trying to confirm whether the gossip is true and he’s dumped me again, Sheriff, then your investigative techniques leave a little to be desired” She finished her punch, set the glass down and took a look around. Her mother was deep in conversation with the pastor’s wife, her father was talking livestock, no doubt, with her uncle, and Olivia was occupied with the kids. There was no sign of Guthrie. “Do me a favor, Reese,” she said as she slid to her feet. “If anyone asks where I am, tell them I went to the bathroom.”

  “It won’t work. You’ve already hidden in there twice. Since most folks here know you’re not the hiding type—at least, not normally—they’ll assume that you must be pregnant. You know how pregnant women have to go all the time.” He grinned slyly. “You wouldn’t want to start that sort of rumor, would you?”

  “Fine,” she said huffily. “Tell them I had to get something out of my car.”

  “In this pouring rain? What kind of gentleman would I be if I stayed dry and cozy and let the birthday girl go out in this nasty weather?”

  “Whoever considered you a gentleman?” she retorted darkly.

  Patience, she counseled herself. All she had to do was open the presents on the hearth and blow out the candles on the cake, and then she could escape on her own. It wouldn’t be long. Her mother would clap her hands for everyone’s attention and say—

  “All right, everyone. The kids are anxious to get that cake cut, so, Shay, let’s open the packages first, and then we can all eat.”

  With everyone’s eyes on her, Shay smiled as if she couldn’t think of ten million things she’d rather do than open presents. She moved to the hearth, seated herself on the cool stone and, with help from the kids in attendance, began opening gifts. She made all the right faces, said all the right things and wished to God she could be anywhere else in the world. Alone. So she could cry.

  Only one package remained. She opened it, admired it without even noticing what it was and started to rise just as Guthrie and Reese set a cardboard box in front of her. Sinking back down, she studied it.

  It was a cumbersome box, heavy enough to require two men to move it. There was no tag on it, though a worn place on top showed where one might have been torn off, and it was splattered with rain. It wasn’t taped. Instead the flaps were folded to secure them. She pulled the first one loose, the others lifting easily, and leaned forward to look inside.

  It was a saddle—and not just any saddle. It was a fine one, not too showy, custom-made by one of the best saddle makers in the business. She’d been there the day it was ordered and the day it was picked up, and she’d traveled thousands of miles with it.

  She stared at it—just stared—then reached inside to gently dry a raindrop that’d fallen from the flaps. The leather was worn smooth, and it smelled like—well. like good, worn leather. It was a familiar scent, one that she associated with ranches and rodeos and cowboys—one cowboy in particular.

  Slowly she lifted her head. Everyone who had gathered around earlier had now backed away, clearing a path across the room to the entrance.

  To Easy.

  Without thinking, she stood up, stepped around the box and walked right up to him. “I told you I would borrow Dad’s trailer and come get Gambler.” Her voice was low, shaky, heavy with tears.

  “Stealing a man’s horse is a hanging offense,” he murmured.

  “Even if he doesn’t want that horse?”

  “How could any man not want a horse like that? She’s beautiful.”

  Tears filling her eyes, she smiled unsteadily. “He. Gambler’s a he.”

  His gaze searched her face, then slowly his mouth curved up. “Yeah He’s beautiful, too.”

  “The saddle—” She gestured, and he caught her hand, holding it tightly in his.

  “The only way I’m ever going to know what I can do is if I try. What’s the worst that can happen? I could get thrown.”

  “You’ve been thrown before,” she said encouragingly.

  “And you’d be there to help me get back up. Wouldn’t you?”

  “Always,” she promised.

  As if he couldn’t wait any longer, he gently touched her jaw. “I love you, Shay. I haven’t always shown it, and I’m sorry, but I’ll work on that. But I’ve always loved you, an
d no matter how stupid I get, that’s not going to change.”

  “I love you, too,” she whispered and reached for him, but he took a step back, holding her at arm’s length.

  “Will you marry me? Will you stand up in church in front of our families and all our friends and become my wife? A real wedding. For a real marriage. For always.”

  When she took a breath, the tightness in her chest eased. The ache around her heart disappeared. For the first time in a week, she smiled a real smile, a big, bright one that lit her face and her eyes and her whole world. She knew, because she saw it reflected in his face, in his eyes.

  “Yes, Easy,” she said loudly enough for everyone to hear. “I’ll marry you.”

  Finally he pulled her into his arms and kissed her—a deep, hungry, full-of-promise kiss that was interrupted when, from somewhere nearby, Elly Harris gave a great sigh. “Whew. I thought he’d never ask. Now how about that cake, Miss Mary?”

  As everyone began moving toward the kitchen, Easy brushed a chaste kiss across her lips, then for one sweet moment he simply held her. Once the candles on the cake were lit, they joined the others at the island. Amid jokes about the smoke detector and the fire department, and with help from the kids, Shay blew out all thirty-five candles.

  “What’d you wish for?” Elly asked as she licked frosting from the candle she’d pulled out.

  “You know she can’t tell you!” Emma admonished her twin. “Else it might not come true.”

  “What did you wish for?” Easy asked late that night when they lay in their moonlit bed, watching Gambler in the corral.

  She glanced at him over her shoulder. His long, lean body was snug against hers, and he held her with his left arm as if he might never let her go. He was handsome and sleepy and loved her dearly—but she loved him more.

  When she opened her mouth to answer, he suddenly hushed her “If you tell, it might not come true.”

  “I can tell you.” Turning to lie on her back, she gazed up at him and solemnly answered, “You. I wished for you.”

  “Then your wish came true. You got me.”

  His kiss was gentle and tender and touched her heart, making it difficult for her to go on. She managed, though. “And for more horses. And for babies. Boys who will break every record their old man ever set, and girls who will break every heart their mother left intact.”

  “We’ll go see Jeff Hendrix tomorrow. I hear he’s got some paints for sale. As for the rest—” Rising over her, he nudged her legs apart, then slid easily, snugly, inside her.

  “What are you doing?” she asked with a laugh that faded into a low moan as he stroked her in just the right way, as he kissed her in just the right place. That quickly he took her from already well-satisfied to needy again, desperate again.

  “I’m making your wishes come true,” he replied.

  And he did.

  Epilogue

  It was a bright November Saturday. The temperature hovered in the low fifties, but the wind gusting out of the west made it feel a good ten degrees colder, maybe more. Easy ignored the chill, though, as he made his way to the barn where Guthrie waited.

  A month had passed since Shay’s birthday. The wedding had taken place the following weekend—in church, with all their families and friends—and he’d spent much of the three weeks since preparing to make good on his promise to try to ride again. He’d worked practically every day with the physical and occupational therapists in Tulsa that his Houston doctor had recommended. He worked harder and pushed harder than ever before.

  But never before had he wanted something so damn much...except Shay.

  He was stronger and healthier than he’d been since the accident. This afternoon he was going to find out if he was strong and healthy enough. The idea that he was, with all its promise, dazzled him. The possibility that he wasn’t—that he might never be—frightened him.

  “Are you ready?”

  He drew a deep breath, then dried his palms on his jeans before facing Guthrie. “I guess so.”

  “Where’s Shay?”

  “She had to run into town. She’ll be back later.”

  “Want to wait for her?”

  He considered it as he watched the paint in the corral, the first of what he hoped would be many purchases. Her name was Suzy Q—short, Elly had announced when she and her dad had brought her over by trailer, for Suzy Cute, and she was the cutest girl horse Elly had ever seen. She was also gentle, even-tempered and well-suited to this afternoon’s experiment. Chances that she would react unfavorably to a bumbling novice on her back were somewhere between slim and none, which meant that Easy had pretty good odds of walking away no more damaged than he already was.

  Still, horses had been known to surprise a man. If Suzy Q was going to take him for a wild ride or toss him face first in the dirt, he’d rather not have Shay around to watch. Even when he was fit, she’d worried too much. Now....

  “Nah,” he replied. “I don’t need an audience.” At least, not yet.

  Guthrie went into the corral to lead the mare out. When they stopped in front of him, Easy traded his cane for the reins, then reached up, grabbing hold of the saddle horn with one hand, the cantle with the other. His undamaged right leg provided strong support while, with minimal help from Guthrie, he worked his left foot into the stirrup, then pulled himself up into the saddle.

  It wasn’t until he was settled, until he felt the familiar form of his favorite old saddle underneath him, that he realized he was holding his breath. He let it out in a slow rush, then let that old sweet feeling of homecoming wrap around him. This was where he’d spent much of his life, and he’d missed it more than he’d let himself admit. The world looked better from astride a horse. Life was easier, brighter, far more pleasurable.

  “You okay?” Guthrie asked, backing off a few feet, but staying close enough to help if needed.

  Easy shifted. There was a slight discomfort in his hip from this new position, but there was always a slight discomfort there. Even though he was right-handed, the reins felt natural in his left hand. Of course, for a right-handed roper—or exroper—that was where they belonged. “Yeah,” he murmured. “I’m okay.” Hell, right this moment, he felt damn near perfect.

  Guthrie moved farther away, and Easy urged the mare into a sedate walk along the trail that led to the driveway. Her pace was slow and steady, the ride smooth and easy. It wouldn’t win him any prizes, but that was all right. The biggest prize of all was simply taking the ride.

  Reaching the driveway, they followed it to the road, then turned and headed back. He remembered the day not too long ago when he’d walked that distance with Elly and thought he might not make it back. He’d thought that about a lot of places, but here he was, back where he’d always wanted to be, where all his dreams had started, where they were finally coming true. Home.

  Suzy Q meandered back to the barn. After he reined her in, he turned to find Guthrie watching. “You’ve got the same look on your face that Elly had the first time she rode Buck by herself,” he remarked. “The same look we both wore our first times.”

  “I don’t know how people live without horses.”

  “They manage, but they’re sadder for it.” Guthrie’s gaze moved past him, and he gestured to the driveway. “There’s Shay.”

  Easy tracked her little car from the road to its parking spot beside the truck, then watched her climb out in that incredibly graceful, sensual way of hers. He’d been wrong a few minutes ago when he’d thought that being able to ride again was the biggest prize of all. It was wonderful, but it couldn’t begin to compare to Shay. There were plenty of things he could live without—a career, fingers, horses if he had to—but not her. Never her. She made life worth living.

  She was smiling as she approached them—not in a big, surprised, oh-my-God-look-at-you sort of way, but just her usual cut-him-off-at-the-knees-and-make-him-glad-he-wasalive smile. “Hi, Guthrie.”

  Guthrie tipped his hat. “Miz Rafferty.”

/>   She tilted her head back to meet Easy’s gaze. “Hey, cowbody.”

  “Hey. Want to go for a ride?” His voice came out huskier than it should have, but emotion could do that to a man. Looking at Shay did it to him. And even being able to offer her a ride.... He had plenty of excuses for the tightness in his throat.

  “Ooh, how many chances to ride off into the sunset with a handsome cowboy does a woman get?” With help from Guthrie, she swung onto the horse behind Easy, then wrapped her arms snugly around his middle.

  “Unless you want me to stick around,” Guthrie said, “I’m gonna head home. I’ll see you guys later.”

  They both said their goodbyes and Easy added his thanks before guiding Suzy Q through an open gate into empty pasture. There they picked up the ranch road that sixteen years’ disuse had almost obliterated and followed it at an easy pace toward the timber. After a time, she broke the silence, leaning forward so that her mouth was close to his ear. “How’s the world look from Suzy Q’s back?”

  “Pretty damn fine,” he replied. But he wasn’t looking at the world. He was looking at her. His world.

  And it was pretty damn fine.

  Watch for another HEARTBREAK CANYON book,

  coming soon from Marilyn Pappano and

  Silhouette Intimate Moments.

  ISBN : 978-1-4592-5910-2

  THE HORSEMAN’S BRIDE

  Copyright © 1999 by Marilyn Pappano

  All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work m whole or m part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the editorial office, Silhouette Books, 300 East 42nd Street, New York, NY 10017 U S A