by Mindy Neff
‘‘Huh?’’ She couldn’t seem to think clearly.
‘‘What do you say to the marriage?’’
‘‘Oh. Uh, yes.’’
‘‘Fine. I’ll have my attorney get started on the papers, and I’ll call the pastor and set something up.’’
‘‘Um…there’s no rush, really. I mean…’’ That darn heat of embarrassment crept up her neck and burned her ears. ‘‘My period’s due in the next day or so.’’
She’d gotten all flustered for nothing. He simply nodded as though speaking of female unmentionables was commonplace. ‘‘The weekend then? Friday or Saturday?’’
‘‘Saturday should be fine. What will we tell people?’’
‘‘What had you planned?’’
‘‘I don’t know. I guess I hadn’t thought explanations would be necessary. That whatever we did behind closed doors would be private.’’
‘‘Not likely in this town.’’
‘‘Then I suppose we could say it was love at first sight?’’
He shrugged. ‘‘That’s a stretch, but it’ll do.’’
She felt a swift punch of pain and looked away. They were making a mistake. She’d just agreed to marry this man, and he’d as much as admitted he could never fall in love with her. Granted, she’d only counted on a no-strings, adult relationship but…
What in the world was the matter with her? She didn’t want him to fall in love with her. She only wanted a baby. Her life was in Texas. There was no excuse to wear her heart on her sleeve. But doggone it…
He hooked a finger under her chin, tipped her face up. ‘‘I meant me, Eden. You’re beautiful. There isn’t a man in town who’d question or think twice. The stretch will be in folks believing that beauty fell for the beast. That only happens in fairy tales.’’
‘‘Stony—’’
He pressed a finger to her lips. There was a resignation in his eyes that made her sad. Words wouldn’t work with Stony Stratton. Perhaps that’s what he’d gotten from his ex-wife. Eden didn’t know. But instinctively she knew that for a man like Stony, a man who watched and studied so deeply, so thoroughly, actions were what he would respond to. Words were just a bunch of letters that made a sound. Actions spoke the truth.
And Eden vowed to make it her mission to show him a very vital truth—that he was a wonderful, sexy, handsome man. That exterior wounds were invisible when a man had such a powerfully good and gentle heart.
And that inner goodness made the outer package more handsome and appealing than the hottest movie idol.
She pursed her lips against his finger in a kiss and watched as his whiskey eyes went hot.
She was suddenly aware that they were alone in the house and had just made plans to marry and have an incredibly active sex life.
And after that kiss she was more than anxious to step up the pace a bit. Could she wait a week? My Lord, the changes in her life were coming at such a speed it left her spinning.
WHEN STONY WENT BACK outside to work with his horses, Eden got out bowls, measuring spoons and the canister of flour. Each time she passed by the kitchen window, her heart bumped in her chest.
Lord, he was something. All male. All cowboy. He sat atop a beautiful bay horse, man and animal appearing as one.
And he didn’t look a bit like a guy who’d just negotiated marriage with a relative stranger—a stranger who’d propositioned him like a lunatic right here in his very own kitchen.
She scooped shortening into the flour and had it blended before she realized she’d forgotten the salt.
Another sharp cramp tightened her abdomen, and she nearly bent double. Sweat broke out on her neck and hands, making her fingers slick on the slotted spoon.
She was doing the right thing, she told herself.
And as such, she needed to make a call. Picking up the phone, she punched in her long-distance calling card digits, followed by the number for Garden of Eden Catering.
Carrie Mugsannie wasn’t just her business partner; she’d been her best friend since kindergarten.
‘‘Garden of Eden, Carrie speaking.’’
‘‘It’s me.’’
‘‘Eden! I’ve been a nervous wreck waiting for you to check in with me. So, what’s the deal?’’
‘‘I’m getting married.’’
‘‘What?’’ Carrie shrieked. ‘‘Have you lost your mind?’’
‘‘Mmm, I haven’t truly ruled out the possibility.’’
‘‘Don’t joke….’’ Carrie paused. ‘‘You are joking, right?’’
‘‘About losing my mind or the marriage thing?’’
‘‘Dang it, Eden. Take your pick.’’
‘‘He suggested marriage, and I agreed.’’
For several moments there was silence on the line.
‘‘He’s that good?’’
Eden grinned and added yeast and warm water to her bread mixture. ‘‘I don’t know yet.’’
‘‘You don’t…Eden, it’s only because you’re my friend that I didn’t lock you in the pantry when you first hatched this whole crazy idea. But marriage? You were only supposed to go there for sex.’’
‘‘The rules changed.’’
‘‘The—Okay, I’m sitting down, now. Let’s have the whole scoop. Include all the details, please,’’ Carrie requested in an oh-so-prim-and-polite Texas drawl.
Eden laughed, and then she told her friend everything, trying her best to describe Stony, his gentleness, his morals and ethics. ‘‘He has to think about his daughter, Carrie. And I agree with him.’’
‘‘You knew he had a kid when you hightailed it out of here.’’
‘‘I wasn’t thinking.’’
‘‘Seems to me you’re still not.’’
‘‘Carrie—’’
‘‘I know, I know.’’ Carrie’s voice softened. ‘‘But I have to play the devil’s advocate. It’s my duty as your friend.’’
‘‘And I love you for it.’’
‘‘Okay, so you marry for six months and hope you get pregnant. What if you do and he sues you for custody of the baby?’’
‘‘Can’t,’’ Eden said. ‘‘That’s what the legal document is for. And it’ll have clauses to protect our business,’’ she assured her friend.
‘‘I’m not concerned about that,’’ Carrie said. ‘‘I know you wouldn’t jeopardize the company.’’
Eden refrained from telling her partner that she hadn’t had the presence of mind to remember the details, that it had been Stony’s suggestion. Granted, she’d have caught it before the actual papers were finalized, but still…
‘‘Legal papers are well and good, but isn’t Montana one of those macho states? What if the case went to court and the judge sided with him?’’
‘‘You forget who my mother is, Carrie.’’
‘‘In Texas. That doesn’t give her judgeship jurisdiction—or whatever you call it—in Montana. And you said he has custody of his daughter. Did his ex just give it over or was there a battle?’’
‘‘I don’t know.’’
‘‘Eden, you should find out these things.’’
‘‘Maybe his ex didn’t want Nikki.’’
‘‘Maybe the cowboy wouldn’t let her have Nikki,’’ Carrie countered.
Eden didn’t want to entertain these doubts. She was getting closer to her goal, taking steps to ensure her dream.
A huge step, she realized.
Or a blind leap, an inner voice taunted.
‘‘I’ll find out. And I’m only assuming he’s divorced. He might be a widower. He has a scar…’’ She broke off, feeling she was betraying him somehow by discussing the feature he was most self-conscious of. ‘‘Maybe his wife died or something.’’
‘‘Yeah, and maybe she gave him that scar in a wild and horrible fight—’’
‘‘Oh, stop it.’’ Despite the subject matter, Eden laughed. ‘‘You should hang up your apron and become a writer.’’
‘‘Not a chance. Are you sure I can’t tal
k you out of this?’’
‘‘You know why I’m doing it, Carrie.’’
‘‘Dang it all.’’ Carrie sighed, and her voice softened. ‘‘When’s the ceremony?’’
‘‘Friday or Saturday. I’m not sure. It depends on the lawyer, I think. And the, uh…length of my period.’’
‘‘Oh, Eden. Do you want me to fly out?’’
‘‘No.’’ Eden glanced at the calendar hanging on the wall by the phone. ‘‘We’ve got the Rammy party scheduled.’’ It was a big one, 250 guests for an elaborate buffet, complete with ice sculptures and artistically carved fruits and vegetables. ‘‘Besides, I imagine Stony and I will just go on down to the courthouse.’’
She was sure that sounded awful. Carrie’s exact sentiments were conveyed in the several moments of silence that followed.
‘‘What about your folks?’’ she finally asked. ‘‘You have to tell them.’’
‘‘I know. I just wanted to wait, to see if things would work out here.’’
‘‘Seems they’re working out a little too nicely. You are coming back, aren’t you?’’
‘‘You know I am, Carrie. But, I need…’’
‘‘I know. Stupid of me to say anything.’’
Eden closed her eyes, took a breath. ‘‘No matter what her age is, a girl just doesn’t tell her mom she’s off finding some man to sleep with.’’
‘‘No,’’ Carrie drawled in her best Southern irony tone. ‘‘She discusses it with her mother’s best friend. Or should I say plots it. What the heck is the difference?’’
Eden shrugged. ‘‘Aunt Lottie just always seemed so much more…cool, I guess. Besides, you know my mom. She won’t agree with my decision to put off surgery.’’
‘‘I’m not so sure I do, either. I’ve seen you these last few months, Eden, and you scare the daylights out of me.’’
‘‘I want a baby, Mugs,’’ Eden said softly, tears stinging her eyes before she could stop them.
‘‘Oh, Will, I know.’’ Carrie returned, her voice catching. As kids growing up, they’d shortened each other’s last names while playing detective—Mugs for Mugsannie, and Will for Williams. And while they were at it, they’d named their future children—Eden’s would be Julia or James, and Carrie’s would be Crystal or Stephen.
Carrie had gotten both her little Stephen and her little Crystal. And a fabulous husband who adored her.
‘‘I’m just so scared over your health,’’ Carrie said.
‘‘I’ll be fine.’’
‘‘You can adopt, you know. You don’t have to go through this.’’
‘‘I haven’t ruled that out, Mugs. But I have to try this way first.’’ Eden wiped dough off her hands and leaned a shoulder against the wall by the phone. She’d been through every stage of Carrie’s pregnancy with the twins, up to and including the delivery room. She’d watched every day as Carrie had nurtured those babies in her womb and then had witnessed the absolutely profound miracle of birth. Sharing the experience had created a need in Eden that was etched on her soul.
‘‘Okay, I’m with you, pal,’’ Carrie said. ‘‘If you change your mind, I can be out there quick as a hiccup.’’
‘‘Thanks. You just take care of the Rammys. I’ll call you soon.’’
When Eden hung up, she covered her bread dough with a towel and set it aside to rise. She told herself it was just as well that Carrie wasn’t coming out here for the ceremony. Although they’d vowed to be maid of honor at each other’s weddings, this wasn’t a true one. It didn’t really count.
That thought zinged her like touching bare fingers to a hot cookie sheet.
Still, whether it counted or not, Carrie had raised some questions in Eden’s mind, and she knew they would eat at her until she found out.
She washed her hands, took off her apron and went to find Stony, having to traipse through three outbuildings before she nearly ran into him coming out of a round training pen. A beautiful, light bay horse followed docilely, its nose practically pressed to Stony’s shoulder.
Astonished, Eden came to a stop. It was the darnedest thing; like a dog adoringly following his owner. The horse didn’t have on any headgear—no bridle, reins…nothing. Yet it strolled along behind him, ears twitching happily.
She grinned and pointed out, ‘‘You seem to have picked up a shadow.’’
He stopped in front of her, and the horse stopped, as well, lightly blowing through his nose and nodding his head as though wary, but enough of a gentleman to offer a greeting.
‘‘Meet King Henry VIII.’’
‘‘Henry VIII?’’ she repeated.
‘‘Mmm. Registered quarter horse gelding.’’
She cringed. ‘‘I doubt the original king—studly as he thought he was—would appreciate his namesake having his privates clipped.’’
‘‘Who’s gonna tell him?’’
Eden grinned and rubbed the horse’s cheek. ‘‘So what do you call him?’’
‘‘Henry. He didn’t seem to care for the pretentious, kingly title.’’
‘‘Told you that, huh? Hello, Henry. Aren’t you a beauty.’’
Again the horse nodded, and Eden laughed.
The bay’s coat was shot through with copper highlights, making him gleam in the sunlight. The contrast with his inky black main and tail was striking, as was his proud stance, giving him a regal look worthy of royalty.
Eden stepped back so Stony could continue on toward the stable. Henry politely followed, as did Eden. When they’d reached the bay’s stall, Stony asked, ‘‘Did you need something?’’
‘‘A question answered.’’
He glanced at her, picked up a currycomb and began combing Henry’s coat. ‘‘Shoot.’’
‘‘What was your wife’s name?’’
A pause. A beat of silence. Then the comb started moving again. ‘‘Paula.’’
‘‘Why did she give up custody of Nikki?’’
‘‘That’s two questions.’’
‘‘Is that a crime for somebody who’s fixin’ to stand in front of a judge with you?’’
‘‘Preacher,’’ he corrected.
‘‘We’ll discuss that.’’ What they intended surely ought not to take place in the Lord’s house. It didn’t seem right. ‘‘So, why did she?’’
‘‘Custody wasn’t hers to give up or keep. Nikki was my goddaughter—had been since before I got married. When Nikki’s parents died, I immediately started adoption procedures, a promise I’d made and never thought I’d have to keep. Paula wasn’t happy about it, wanted me to choose between them.’’ His palm slid down Henry’s sleek neck. ‘‘I chose Nikki.’’
‘‘Oh.’’ She hadn’t expected that. ‘‘Well…um, thank you, then.’’ Flustered, she backed out of Henry’s stall and headed toward the sunshine at the open end of the stables, knowing Stony was frowning in consternation at her abrupt exit. For some reason, though, she couldn’t seem to find her Southern manners, manners that dictated one must always excuse one’s self.
With each deliberate step she took, Carrie’s warnings tried to take hold, grabbing a little harder, shaking her confidence.
It had been stupid—and subconscious, she realized now—but she’d somehow thought that since Stony had his own child, he wouldn’t give her a bad time about keeping hers. Kind of like ‘‘one for you and one for me,’’ she supposed, feeling incredibly ashamed that her subconscious mind could even entertain such a notion.
There was absolutely no sense or logic to her thinking. A testament to her impulsiveness—or shock, perhaps.
She could still recall the doctor’s words—or word, rather. The only one she’d really heard past the buzzing in her ears. Hysterectomy.
Aunt Lottie’s phone call had caught Eden at a low point, a point beyond tears, a point where exhaustion had sent her body and mind into a state of shutdown.
So when her aunt had called back several days later, Eden had grasped the wild suggestion like a drowning victim rea
ching for the final lifeboat, even if it had holes in it.
She’d blocked out logic.
Embarrassingly so.
Would a man who had the honor, love and loyalty to uphold a vow, to adopt his goddaughter and love her like his own, be a man willing to give up a baby from his own seed?
If there was a baby.
She was placing her faith solely in Stony’s goodness, his gentle heart, the man her aunt had described as safe and genuine, the man who had sounded almost too good to be true.
And she hoped to Heaven she wasn’t making the biggest mistake of her life.
Chapter Six
Eden knew Stony had already told Nikki about the marriage plans, and as carefree as you please, she’d merely said okay and skipped away. No questions asked. Stony had said he wasn’t really surprised at her unconditional acceptance. That’s the kind of child she was.
But Eden needed more reassurance.
In Nikki’s room, with its fluffy eyelet comforter mussed from being bounced on, and stuffed animals and horse statues strewn about, Eden flicked through the hangers in the little girl’s closet, attempting to choose an outfit for the dinner at Brewer’s Saloon they were due to attend in a while.
‘‘Dress or pants?’’ she asked, noting that there weren’t a whole lot of dresses to begin with.
‘‘Blue jeans.’’ Nikki giggled and tossed a stuffed animal in the air. It bounced off the ceiling, went off course, and Nikki nearly fell off the bed fielding it on its descent. ‘‘Dresses are for church, silly.’’
Eden gave an exaggerated gasp. ‘‘Why, nobody told me that. Suppose folks’ll think I’m struttin’ my okra if I wear something girly?’’
Nikki giggled again, as Eden had intended. ‘‘Nope, ’cuz you’re bigger. Uncle Ethan said boys like girls in dresses.’’ Up went the stuffed animal again. This time it didn’t go wild, and she caught it in her skinny arms. ‘‘But I want my blue jeans. And I like the Barbie shirt. I got pink boots to go with it.’’
‘‘Well, then. Color coordinated. Excellent fashion sense. You’ll be the belle of the ball.’’
‘‘How come you’re marrying my daddy?’’
Eden paused, taken off guard by the subject change. She took the pink shirt out of the closet and went to sit on the bed. Nikki hadn’t been interested in discussing the subject with Stony. Evidently, she didn’t feel the same way with regard to Eden.