His Secret Bride (The Brides of Paradise Ranch (Spicy Version) Book 8)

by Merry Farmer

Lucy twisted to have a look. Her expression brightened. “Oh! Mr. Cole. He’s such a lovely man. Gideon and I had him over for supper last night, and he entertained the children all evening with stories of his friends in Everland.”

  Bonnie could have been knocked over with a feather at that pronouncement. “You invited him to supper?” she gaped.

  “Yes, of course. He’s doing some work for my father and the town building commission. We asked him to put together some designs for new houses.”

  An odd, squiggly feeling formed in Bonnie’s stomach. Of course, that explained the sketching, but why? Rupert already had a thriving business with his partner in Everland. Why would he even think of doing work for Haskell? Unless he was planning to stick around. How much would Howard and the town pay Rupert to do that work?

  Deep shame and disgust with herself for jumping straight to thoughts of money forced Bonnie to turn away from the baseball field. She cleared her throat. “We really do need to make some decisions about this reception.”

  “What a wonderful thing for Mr. Cole to build houses right here in Haskell,” Pearl said in a dreamy voice. “Isn’t that a wonderful thing?” She sent Bonnie a pointed smile.

  Bonnie pursed her lips and sent Pearl a flat stare in return. Whose side was she on anyhow?

  Lucy’s smile widened. “Is there something I don’t know about?”

  “No,” Bonnie snapped.

  “Maybe,” Pearl whispered at the same time.

  Lucy’s expression burst with curiosity. “You don’t…you don’t know Mr. Cole, do you, Bonnie?”

  “Evidently not,” she muttered, then snatched one of the swatches from Lucy’s hand. “I like this one.”

  Lucy and Pearl exchanged a look that Bonnie didn’t like at all. She managed to get the two of them to focus on work, but Lucy was onto something, and Pearl was most certainly plotting. It didn’t help that a swell of laughter erupted from the baseball field. Rupert had abandoned his work on the grandstands and was now throwing a ball around with Trey and Albert. What did he think he was doing, making friends with her friends, playing games with them? Well, she most certainly would not let him play games with her.

  She held on to that determination into the weekend and well into Sunday morning. Church was one of the main social events of Haskell society. George was unique among preachers in that he let her girls attend services, but he had requested that they sit at the back of the church, seeing as some of the townsfolk didn’t approve of them. Bonnie sat with them some Sundays and with the Bonneville family the rest of the time. Today she took a seat at the end of the pew beside Pearl and Domenica.

  “Ugh. Papa, I don’t see how you can marry a woman who degrades herself by sitting with those disgusting women,” Vivian Bonneville snorted as she escorted her father through the church door. Her own husband—and third cousin—Rance followed behind, Melinda and Bebe Bonneville bringing up the rear of their group.

  “Pee-eew!” Melinda sniffed, waving a hand in front of her nose. “They smell like sin.”

  Bebe breathed in deeply. “Actually, I think that’s rose perfume. It smells rather nice.”

  “Shut up, Bebe,” Vivian and Melinda snapped in unison.

  “Girls,” Rex growled. It was all that was needed to scold Vivian and Melinda back into order. He pointed to the pew near the front of the sanctuary, sending the rest of his family on their way, but held back to frown at Bonnie. “I won’t have you sitting with these trollops after our wedding on Tuesday.”

  “I know, Rex.” Bonnie kept her voice strong, but she wanted to sigh, to weep.

  “It’s enough of a disgrace for people to see you sitting with them now knowing that our nuptials are imminent.”

  “It’s nothing the good folk of this town haven’t seen for years now.”

  Rex suddenly lurched toward her, leaning over her in a threatening, domineering way that he’d never used before. “It has served my uses for you to maintain your reputation as a harlot while connected with me all these years, but things are about to change. Do you understand?”

  An uncharacteristic prickle of fear raced down Bonnie’s spine. She had to remind herself that she could handle Rex. She’d always been able to handle him.

  “Yes, Rex. I understand,” she murmured.

  “Good.” He sneered, straightened, then marched down the aisle to sit near the front of the church with his family.

  “And you wonder why so many of the girls refuse to come to services at all,” Domenica muttered by Bonnie’s side in her lilting, Spanish accent. “When El Diablo sits at the front preening while those who think nothing of themselves and sacrifice all for others are forced to the back.”

  Weary to her soul, Bonnie patted Domenica’s hand. “I’m sure there are plenty of folks around here who know just how good and caring a person you are and how much your sacrifices mean.”

  Domenica’s eyes widened. “I was talking about you, mi amiga.”

  Of all things, Domenica’s kind words made Bonnie’s heart sink. Was she really doing the right thing by her girls in marrying Rex? Money was one thing, but what about respect?

  Her swiftly sinking mood was jolted as Rupert strode into church, reached her pew, and bent over to whisper, “Scoot over, would you?” He didn’t wait for her to move before wedging himself between her and the end of the pew.

  “What are you doing here?” she hissed low enough so that no one could hear. One sidelong glance at the row of her girls was enough to see they had all burst into knowing, teasing, heartfelt grins. Traitors, every one of them.

  “Sitting together is what married people do on Sundays,” he whispered back, an impish light in his eyes.

  Bonnie sat straight and stared straight forward. She knew full well her cheeks were as red as cherries, but there was nothing she could do about it. Almost a week of hovering around Haskell, not speaking to her, and now this.

  “We’re not—” She clamped her mouth shut before she could blurt out that they weren’t married anymore. Rupert hadn’t signed the divorce decree. She hadn’t mentioned that she’d asked George to file a forged document. As far as Rupert knew, everything was just as it had been the week before when she’d gone to Everland.

  “I don’t think we ever sat in church together,” Rupert went on in a low mutter for her ears only. “Maybe that was our problem.”

  “Don’t you go finding religion on me now, Rupert Cole.” She had to lean against his side and turn her lips to his ear to be sure the Tremaine family in the pew in front of them didn’t hear. “I love and respect God as much as most people, but neither you nor I are big enough hypocrites to pretend we’ve always trod the straight and narrow.”

  Rupert shifted even closer to her, to the point where she could feel his breath tickling her ear as he said, “Sometimes I wonder if that straight and narrow was really God’s idea or if some fool made it up to keep folks in line.”

  Bonnie tsked. “Blasphemy in church.”

  “Would you prefer God’s honest truth then?” He slipped his hand over her gloved one, twining their fingers. “Like how much I love you and miss you, how you’ll never find anyone else who makes your blood boil and your skin sizzle like I do?”

  Ripples of longing and some very un-church-like sensations shivered through her. She should pull her hand away from his. Anyone could walk past the pew and see them holding hands, feel the sensual energy enveloping them.

  In fact, before she could finish forming the dangers in her mind, Rex straightened and twisted to stare back at her from his seat on the aisle so many pews in front of them. Anger flared through his expression, but that simple emotion was quickly eclipsed by a much more terrifying sort of calculation.

  “Oh, Lord,” Bonnie muttered.

  “Praying already, or are you just remembering what you were calling out the other night when we—”

  “Rupert, hush!”

  She was saved from further embarrassment or temptation as the organist launched into the first hymn
and George made his appearance at the door to his office. The congregation stood, and the service officially began. For the space of forty-five minutes, at least, Bonnie could have something else to think about. But more and more as George’s sermon about the importance of fair competition and sportsmanlike behavior went on—probably because of the finals of Haskell’s baseball league which would take place just after the potluck—Bonnie found herself concentrating on the heat of Rupert’s body, the scent of him beside her.

  As soon as the sermon was over and the last hymn sung, Bonnie practically leapt to her feet and climbed over Rupert to flee.

  “I have to help set up the potluck,” she explained before dashing outside. Even then, once she was in the fresh, fall air, she couldn’t breathe. Every part of her longed to throw her arms around Rupert, to beg for his forgiveness and to make plans to live the rest of their miserable, sinful lives together, but she couldn’t. But now, even that argument seemed hollow and repetitive to her, like a mosquito buzzing near her ear that wouldn’t leave her alone, no matter how much she swatted. Everything had become so hopelessly muddled.

  “Don’t think I didn’t see what was going on there.” Rex caught her by the arm as she rounded the corner of the church to fetch some of the potluck dishes from a shed.

  “Rex!” She nearly jumped out of her skin, her heart pounding so hard it made her dizzy.

  “That man. He was the one from the other day. Something about Everland.”

  The fierce light in Rex’s eyes burned so hot that Bonnie was sure everything was about to blow up in front of her. If she was going to go down, at least she could go down for the people and causes she loved. “His name is Rupert Cole,” she reminded him.

  “I don’t care if his name is Lucifer Hades. The two of you seem overly friendly.” He gripped her arm harder, to the point where pain shot up to her shoulder.

  Bonnie swallowed hard. “What do you want, Rex?”

  He took an uncharacteristically long time to reply. “I want my reputation. I want my heir.” He let go of her arm and leaned back, studying her while stroking his chin. “It occurs to me that this Cole person might just be able to provide me with one of those.”

  “What?” Bonnie blinked rapidly. Rex was harmless when he merely stomped around bullying people. It was when he began to think that he truly terrified her.

  Eyes narrowed in thought, he said, “Whoever he is, there is a palpable attraction between the two of you.”

  Damn. Bonnie clenched her fists at her sides, waiting for hellfire to rain down on her.

  “His coloring is not unlike my daughters’,” Rex went on. The comment seemed out of place, until he finished with, “I would be willing to allow you to carry on with that man for however long it takes for you to become pregnant by him.”

  “You’d what?” Disgust mingled with horror in her gut, but a tiny wisp of excitement curled even lower. But no, that was not the sort of concession she would be willing to make.

  “It would save us both the trouble of finding a suitable orphan baby to pass off as our own,” Rex went on, not even looking at her or, likely, considering her anymore. “And it would eliminate the risk of raising bad seed as my own.” Now he looked at Bonnie, raking her up and down with a sneer. “Not that any child of yours could come close to being the right sort.”

  As offensive as Rex’s statement was, as fierce as her maternal instinct for her hypothetical child was, the pure volume of fear for the look in Rex’s eyes as he so calmly discussed the unthinkable kept Bonnie’s lips pressed firmly shut. She clenched her hands into fists to keep from shaking.

  “Afterwards, of course,” Rex went on with a careless shrug, “your little friend would have to leave. Otherwise I’d have him killed.”

  “How dare you?” Fury took over from fear, and before she could think about it, she slapped Rex’s face.

  It was the wrong thing to do. Rex grabbed her wrist and twisted it back. Bonnie yelped in pain, pitching to the side as he squeezed her harder. “Don’t you ever—”

  “Hey!” Rupert’s sharp shout struck even deeper fear into Bonnie. She pivoted as well as she could to see Rupert rushing across the church yard toward her. Trey Knighton, Sam Standish, and George ran with him. “Let go of her!”

  “This is none of your business,” Rex growled at them, but he let go of Bonnie all the same. “Discussions with my fiancée are none of your concern.”

  Bonnie stumbled away from him and righted herself, rubbing her wrist. She glanced from Rupert back across the lawn to where her friends and neighbors were trying hard to pretend they weren’t watching. She should have known that she and Rex wouldn’t go unobserved as they quarreled.

  “Any time I see a lady mistreated in my town, it’s my concern,” Trey shot back, pulling himself up to his full height. He didn’t wear his sheriff’s star to church, and the wicked scar that ran the length of his face made him look more like an outlaw than a lawman.

  The only way Bonnie knew Rex was intimidated was by the way he held his breath as he glared at Trey. “I’d watch which fights you pick, Sheriff. You might find yourself with more trouble on your hands than you’re ready for.”

  “I’ve seen more trouble than a blowhard like you could ever dream of,” Trey growled in return.

  “That makes two of us,” Rupert added. He and Trey looked so intimidating—and well-matched—standing side-by-side that Bonnie flinched in surprise.

  Rex took a half step back. “I’m not going to stand here and be insulted by the likes of you.”

  “Oh no?” Sam stepped up to join Rupert and Trey. “Then maybe you shouldn’t go laying hands on a woman, no matter who she is.”

  “She struck me!” Rex argued.

  “Did you give her cause?” Rupert asked, eyes narrowed.

  “Why don’t you ask her?” The way Rex said it, the way he leered at Rupert as he did, raised the hairs on the back of Bonnie’s neck. She knew enough about men from her years of seeing them with their britches down to know when a confrontation had shifted from generalizations to a very personal cock fight.

  “If I hear that you have so much laid a finger on her again,” Rupert warned Rex, leaning toward him, “I will not be held responsible for my actions.”

  “You think you can threaten me, boy?” Rex moved to stand toe-to-toe with Rupert. “You think you’re even in the same league as me?”

  “I’m leagues above you, Bonneville,” Rupert answered. “And I’ll prove it.”

  Rex snorted with laughter. “How? By glowering at me? By spitting on my boots which, I might add, probably cost more than whatever hovel you live in?”

  The way Rex sunk to money as his ultimate standard of class turned Bonnie’s stomach…and made her wonder once again just how successful Rupert’s business was.

  “I have a suggestion.” Everyone in the seething, furious group started at George’s quiet statement. When everyone turned to him, George shrugged and said, “You want to prove who’s better than who? Well, there’s a competition of skill and endurance to be had this very afternoon.”

  “The baseball game?” Bonnie blinked and shook her head, uncertain where George was going.

  “Rupert can play for our team against Bonneville’s.”

  As far as Bonnie was concerned, it was a weak idea at best. But the men didn’t think so.

  “I say that’s a fine idea,” Trey growled.

  “We were planning to pummel your Bears into the ground anyhow,” Sam added. “This will make it that much sweeter.”

  Rupert simply said. “I’m in.”

  “But you can’t.” Bonnie glanced from one man to the other, at a complete loss. “The players for the Westside Wolves have to live on the west side of town.”

  “Hey Rupert,” Sam started, fierce gaze still boring into Rex’s. “Which side of the hotel is your room on?”

  “The west side,” Rupert answered.

  Bonnie laughed at the ridiculousness of the whole thing, no idea how matter
s had gotten so out of hand. There was no way Rex would possibly go for an idea as stupid as—

  “You’re on,” Rex growled. He rubbed his hands together. “My boys have been practicing. They’ve been practicing all of their best plays.” Bonnie knew enough about the way Rex’s team played to know those plays would have more to do with breaking bones and blackening eyes than stealing bases. “We’re ready.”

  “Then so am I,” Rupert answered.

  The two continued to glare at each other for a few more seconds, then Rex sniffed, straightened his suit jacket, and started to walk off.

  He turned after only three steps, pointed at Bonnie, and said, “You’d better behave.” Then he marched away.

  “Well, boys,” Rupert said, his voice as close to menacing as Bonnie had ever heard it. “Looks like we’ve got a baseball game to play.”

  Chapter 11

  “Rupert, wait!”

  Rupert had taken several determined steps away from the infuriating confrontation with Bonneville when Bonnie grabbed his arm to hold him back. Trey and the rest of the guys sent him brief, questioning looks, then picked up their pace giving Rupert and Bonnie space when he nodded to them.

  “What did he say to you that made you slap him?” he asked, even though Bonnie was the one who drew him aside.

  Her mouth opened, but she quickly shut it again. Her gaze dropped to her hands in front of her. “It’s not important.”

  “I think it is.” Rupert shifted a few feet to the side so that they wouldn’t be visible to the people enjoying their lunch, bringing Bonnie with him. “You’re a passionate woman, Bonnie, but you’re not the sort to go smacking people unless truly provoked.”

  Her gaze jerked up to meet his. “Oh, and who I do and don’t smack is suddenly your business now?”

  “It’s always been my business.” His blood pumped, his heart soared. Arguing with Bonnie was as exciting as…as making up with her afterwards.

  She clicked her tongue and snapped her head to the side as if marshalling her patience. Under her breath, she murmured something that sounded a lot like “stubborn” and “jackass.” At last, she turned back to him, crossing her arms. “You shouldn’t play in that baseball game.”