One Night in Weaver...

by ALLISON LEIGH,

  Fortunately, Vivian had insisted on paying for the dress and Hayley knew that her grandmother would have made certain Isabella’s effort was handsomely rewarded.

  Seth wore a black suit and white shirt and was happy to eschew the tie when Hayley suggested it. She knew he disliked them. And even though he’d have happily worn it for her, she’d wanted him to be himself. If he’d have wanted to wear jeans and a T-shirt, she wouldn’t have cared.

  The wedding wasn’t about what they wore.

  It was about the commitment that they were making for the rest of their lives.

  Jane and Sam were her attendants. Hayley had told them to wear what they chose.

  Sam, practical-minded as ever, wore the same dress she’d worn for Jane’s wedding. And Jane, equally practical, had chosen to wear Hayley’s maid-of-honor dress. She’d had to have it cleaned because there were dirt marks around the hem from the parking lot at Shop-World where Hayley had danced with Seth.

  Two of his ranger buddies made it into town in enough time to stand up for him. They looked stunning in their dress uniforms. Which had Sam eyeing them as if they were treats to be devoured but she couldn’t decide between them.

  Much to Vivian’s chagrin—because she’d wanted to hire an entire orchestra as befitted any granddaughter of hers—Casey provided the music, playing his violin. And he did so with such perfect beauty that Hayley saw Vivian wipe a tear as she stared fixedly at the man.

  Even Seth noticed, murmuring “Is your grandmother crying?” into her ear when she met him in front of the minister after her father had walked her beneath the pavilion.

  “It’s the violin music,” she whispered back. “My grandfather used to play.”

  Her father had promised not to make a scene with her grandmother. At least not on Hayley’s wedding day. And even now, after the vows and the rings, Carter managed to limit himself to an occasional glare across the invisible aisle separating the picnic tables where everyone sat.

  Despite coming together for a wedding, Carter and his brother were keeping very much to one side of the pavilion. Vivian stayed to the other, sharing her table with Montrose and Gretchen. There were other guests, too. Former clients and friends of Hayley’s. Isabella and her husband, Erik, and their adopted son, Murphy. Abby and Sloan McCray. The sheriff and his wife. Even Pam Rasmussen, the sheriff’s dispatcher, who was married to Hayley’s distant cousin.

  Vivian and her sons could sit on opposite sides of the aisle, pretending the other side didn’t exist. But there were connective threads webbing out around them whether they liked it or not.

  “Do you suppose they’ll ever let the past go?” Seth asked, sliding his arm around Hayley’s waist. The gold band she’d put on his finger only minutes ago gleamed. She kept getting distracted just from looking at it.

  He was her husband. She was his wife.

  She glanced at her father. He and David had moved near the wedding cake where Casey and Jane were standing. Vivian was cradling Casey’s violin close by. “I don’t know. I’m not worrying about it anymore,” she said. “It’s not up to me to fix them.”

  “You’ll never let it go. You’ll always be concerned about the people you love. That’s who you are.”

  “Who I am,” she turned into his arms, loving the smile on his face, “is your wife.”

  “Dr. Hayley Banyon. You’re sure you want to change your name?”

  “Positive.” She dipped her fingertip into his dimple. “I never knew how much I could love someone until I met you.”

  “You’re just saying that because you want to get your hands on me.”

  She laughed softly. “That’s right, Mr. Banyon. It’s all about the sex. The very, very good sex. Has nothing whatsoever to do with my life having very little meaning unless you’re in it.”

  He smiled and ran his fingers over the wedding ring on hers. “I love you, Doc.” He didn’t say it often. But he made sure she knew it every minute of every day.

  “I love you.” She kissed him quickly. “Now come on.” She pulled him toward the picnic table, where the wedding cake was laid out on a pretty white cloth. “I’m not refereeing any battles between my father and Vivian, but they’re all standing very close to our wedding cake. That’s a recipe for disaster.”

  He chuckled and slid his hand over her back laid bare by the halter dress. “Sure you don’t want to just get the heck out of here while the going’s good?”

  She slid him a look. “Don’t tempt me.”

  “Are you?” He drew his fingertip along her spine.

  She exhaled carefully, feeling heat race through her. “Very.”

  His lips tilted wickedly. “Good.” He pulled her the rest of the way toward the cake just as Vivian handed the violin back to Casey.

  “I never expected to hear this violin played again,” she was telling him. “Not so beautifully.”

  “The only reason it’s playable at all is because you got it fixed for me,” Casey reminded her. “It means a lot to me and my family. It belonged to my grandmother, Sarah. She died a long time before I came along.”

  Hayley pressed her head against Seth’s chest behind her and shared a smile with Jane. They both remembered when Jane had brought the broken violin to Vivian for help, even though she’d thought all was lost with Casey.

  “I know,” Vivian said in a shaking voice. She sent Hayley a look that seemed filled with apology. “I know the violin belonged to your grandmother. Because it was my first husband who gave it to her.” She turned the violin over and gently stroked the markings on the back. “And my father who gave it to him.”

  Casey’s eyebrows pulled together and he let out half a laugh. “Talk about a small world.”

  “Not that small.” Vivian swallowed and seemed to brace herself. “You see, my husband Sawyer Templeton was your grandmother’s half-brother, dear. He just didn’t know she existed until shortly after he and I married.”

  Hayley sucked in a breath.

  Casey’s stunned gaze flicked from Vivian’s face to Hayley’s. “Well, damn,” he finally said, sounding just as dazed as she felt.

  Seth’s arms tightened around Hayley’s waist. “Sounds to me like your family tree just got a whole lot bigger.”

  “And if I hadn’t...interfered because she was illegitimate and I was afraid of scandal,” Vivian added, “half of everything that came from Templeton Steel would have been hers. Which is something I intend to finally rectify.” She breathed deeply and raised her chin, looking skyward. “That’s right,” she said. “I’m going to get things right.”

  “Who’s she talking to?” Hayley’s brother had come up next to them.

  “Dear Arthur,” Hayley and Seth said together.

  Arch shook his head. “She’s a nut job.”

  “She’s Vivian Archer Templeton,” Hayley murmured. “That’s your namesake, brother dear.”

  “Still a nut job.” He headed toward Casey, his arm outstretched in greeting. “So. It sounds like we’re cousins...”

  * * * * *

  Don’t miss these other stories in New York Times and USA TODAY bestselling author Allison Leigh’s long-running RETURN TO THE DOUBLE C series:

  THE RANCHER’S DANCE

  COURTNEY’S BABY PLAN

  A WEAVER PROPOSAL

  A WEAVER VOW

  A WEAVER BEGINNING

  A WEAVER CHRISTMAS GIFT

  Available from Harlequin.

  Keep reading for an excerpt from THE BOSS, THE BRIDE & THE BABY by Judy Duarte.

  http://www.harlequin.com/harlequinexperience

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  The Boss, the Bride & the Baby

  Judy Duarte

  Chapter One

  Jason Rayburn had never considered himself an early bird, but as the morning sun began to rise over the Leaning R Ranch, he found himself pouring his second cup of coffee.

  If his father hadn’t died, he’d be in Houston today—still in bed, most likely, but with thoughts of hitting the gym instead of repairing the barn door. After a good workout, he’d take a shower, then head to the downtown high-rise he owned and take the elevator to the top-floor office of Rayburn Energy Transport, where he was the founder and CEO.

  With the recent death of his father, he now controlled Rayburn Enterprises as well, not to mention his new role as the sole trustee of the Charles Darren Rayburn Family Trust.

  What a mess dividing that was going to be. And that’s what had led him back to Brighton Valley.

  The Leaning R had been part of his great-grandmother’s estate, rest her soul. And Rosabelle Rayburn had left it to Charles with a stipulation—that it be divided equally to his issue upon his death. She’d wanted his children to be in complete and wholehearted agreement about its daily operation and/or division.

  Yeah. Right. Jason and his half siblings had never been in agreement on anything. Granny, of all people, knew that. And he suspected it was her last-ditch effort to draw them together in a way she’d never been able to do while she was alive.

  But there’d been a reason for that. Jason, Braden and Carly had so very little in common they might as well be strangers.

  So that’s why he had to get the Leaning R up and running again and ready for sale. Because there was no way his brother and sister would make good business partners. He just hoped he could get them to agree on a real estate agent and a price.

  When Jason was a kid, spending summers and the occasional holiday at the ranch, he’d dreamed of being a cattle rancher. But those days were long gone. He was a busy CEO now.

  On rare occasions those old dreams might come back to haunt him, but there was a reason for that. He’d spent enough time on the Leaning R with Granny Rayburn growing up that he’d actually felt more at home here than he had anywhere else. Of course, that wasn’t the case anymore. He was a city boy now—and eager to get back to his life in Houston.

  He didn’t have time for reminiscing, especially when some thoughts were so bittersweet they could make a grown man actually choke up like a little boy. Yet as he walked through the house, assessing the work that needed to be done, the still-lingering scents of lemon oil and Granny’s trademark lavender hand lotion assailed him in every room. So it was nearly impossible to escape the memories.

  But he wouldn’t allow himself to lollygag in the past. He had too much to do, and he was determined to get the hell out of Dodge, so to speak, as quickly as he could. In the meantime, he’d set up a home office to work remotely. The corporate world didn’t stop spinning just because he had to handle some family business.

  He would have to hire a couple of extra ranch hands to help Ian, the foreman, get things done. But that didn’t mean he wouldn’t have to work along with them. He didn’t mind the physical labor. It actually drew him back to the time when his great-grandma was still alive, when he was a boy who loved to ride the fence line with the cowboys who’d worked on the Leaning R.

  Too bad Granny wasn’t here to fix him silver-dollar pancakes for breakfast or to tell him about more of Grandpa Dave’s escapades.

  He glanced at the faded blue wallpaper with pictures of straw baskets holding wildflowers. Now yellowed with age, the colors had once brightened Granny’s kitchen.

  Damn, but he missed that sweet old woman. She’d been the closest thing to a mother he’d ever had.

  The coffeepot gurgled, and he took one last sip of his morning brew before dumping the remainder in the sink. It wasn’t Starbucks, but at least it was caffeine.

  He glanced at the cat-shaped clock on wall, its drooping black tail swishing back and forth with each tick-tock. Time to get moving. He had a lot to accomplish today.

  Headlights flashed through the kitchen window, and tires crunched on the gravel drive as a vehicle pulled into the yard and parked. He wasn’t expecting anyone this early, but it wasn’t as if this was the Wild West and he needed to protect his homestead.

  Looking out the kitchen window, he watched a woman climb from the small pickup, her hair pulled into a topknot. Instead of heading for the front door, she went straight for the back entrance—just as though she owned the place.

  Carly?

  His half sister had said she’d come out and help him inventory the household furnishings for an estate sale—the most difficult part of the job, which he had yet to face. But he hadn’t been expecting her until tomorrow. What was she doing here now—and at the crack of dawn? She’d never been an early riser, at least not that he could recall.

  Jason was already in the mudroom when the door swung open and Carly stepped inside.

  “This is a surprise,” he said. “You’re a day early. Want some coffee?”

  “No, thanks. I can’t stay.”

  “What’s going on?” he asked.

  “I just got offered a singing gig—an important one—and I have to leave town for a few weeks. But I wanted to let you know that there are some boxes in the attic that Granny was keeping for me. I don’t want you to throw them out or sell them. That’s why I agreed to help you inventory things, especially since I think you’re being way too hasty in selling the ranch.”

  He knew how she felt. But it made no sense to keep the Leaning R going when there was no way the three of them could work together. And he had enough on his plate already.

  “You could let Braden run things,” she added.

  Hell, he and Braden rarely spoke. How in the world were they supposed to be business partners? That was one reason he was in a hurry to get the estate settled—so the three half siblings could each go their own ways. Not that he wouldn’t keep in touch with Carly. But with her heart set on singing and acting, that just went to show that they had nothing in common except the DNA they’d inherited from their old man.

  “I also have some things to drop off for Braden,” Carly added, “but since he’s not home, I’m going to leave them here for him to pick up.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Braden asked a friend to drop off some stuff with me. I’ve had it a week, but I’m leaving and already gave notice at my place. So I don’t want him to worry about where it is if he needs it.”

  Jason kept in closer contact with Carly than he did their half brother. When they’d been kids, Jason had blamed Braden for the divorce that had sent his mom into an emotional tailspin. Of course, as he grew older, he realized Braden had been as much a victim as he’d been. But you couldn’t fix a relationship that had never really developed.

  “Slow down,” Jason said. “Where is Braden?”

  “I’m not sure. I think he’s in Mexico. It was all pretty cryptic. His friend pretty much just dropped the painting off, along with a couple of boxes. He said it was important that I keep it for him.”

  “Why can’t you leave it at Braden’s ranch?”

  “There must be a reason why he wanted me to hang on to it. Braden’s supposed to explain more when he comes to pick it up. He said he’d owe me one—but n
ow he’ll owe you.”

  Jason was about to object, but it wouldn’t hurt to have his half brother indebted to him, even if none of this made any sense. “Did he say when he’d be back?”

  “As soon as he can, apparently. A few weeks at the most.”

  “What the hell? I want to get this property listed for sale. I can’t be away from my office while you and Braden are out traipsing around and going on with your lives. It’s not fair. And who’s going to help me pack up all this stuff?”

  She blew out a ragged breath. “Talking to you is just like talking to Dad. I knew you’d never understand.”

  Her words struck like the flat of a hand against his cheek. For as long as Jason could remember, he’d been trying to win his dad’s approval, by following in his footsteps, by attending the same college, becoming a business major, starting his own company. Yet he’d never meant to become a carbon copy of the man.

  “Try me,” he said.

  She merely rolled her eyes—big and blue, just like her mother’s.

  Jason didn’t blame her for being skeptical. He and Carly had never been particularly close. For one reason, at twenty-four, she was six years younger than he was. She’d also been into music and the arts, while he’d been more interested in sports and, later, getting his MBA.

  But since the three half siblings would have to compromise during the division of the estate, a task that seemed nearly impossible considering they couldn’t figure out a way to be in town at the same time, it was imperative that they learn to find some kind of common ground.

  “Tell me about your singing gig,” he said.

  She unfolded her arms and cocked her head slightly to the side, studying him as though she’d never met him before. Then she slipped her thumbs into the front pockets of her jeans, rocked forward and smiled. “I’m starring in a nightclub near the Riverwalk. It’s a six-week run, but it could work into something bigger—better.”