“Oh come on, don’t exaggerate. She was lucky to be rid of me. I’m the one—” He stopped short, horror flooding over him as he realized how close he’d come to admitting the truth.
I was the one who’d been so devastated I had to escape.
“And what if I’m the one crying?” he said instead, hoping Bliss hadn’t noticed his discomfiture.
Her lined face softened then. “In that case, I will take her to task. You’re my boy.”
Heat prickled the backs of his eyes. He’d forgotten the fierceness of Bliss’s love. Something winched tight inside loosened, just a notch. It felt like when he would first stand up after his foot fell asleep, a rush of pain replacing the numbness he hadn’t even known was there.
“And I guess I’ve got a wedding to plan. Along with everything else on my plate, I don’t know how I’m going to fit it in. What’s the date?”
“The date?” Had they picked one? He racked his brain but couldn’t remember. “We haven’t decided yet. I told you, it just happened. And besides, won’t all the women want to help? I’m sure Blythe will insist.”
Instantly, he knew he’d stepped in a steaming pile of worse.
“Do not,” Bliss said, biting the words off cleanly, “mention the Blight to me. You have not been gone so long as to forget such a basic tenet of survival out here, have you? You might be suffering from the idiot gene, like all the testosterone-afflicted around here, but you are not one hundred percent moronic, I trust?”
“Sorry,” he muttered. “Looks like I am.”
She huffed. “That woman’s word isn’t worth the air it takes her to talk.”
Bliss Henderson and her twin sister Blythe had nicknamed each other “the Blister and the Blight” way back before Mitch was alive, although no one seemed to know why. But since neither of them had ever left the area, and they spent holidays and birthdays and whatnot together, everyone assumed it wasn’t serious.
“Is something wrong?”
“Oh, never you mind.” Bliss waved dismissively. “Blythe and I have differing opinions on my niece, that’s all. Melissa and her mother need some time apart. But since I haven’t raised a flock of my own, what do I know?” She sighed. “Her whole life that child’s been called ‘the afterthought’ and ‘the caboose.’ No wonder she’s tattooed and pierced up one side and down the other.”
Mitch could barely remember Melissa.
“I don’t mean to dump this all on you.” She patted Mitch’s arm. “But you should know what you’re walking into, I suppose. Life around Lutherton and Chinook has been difficult these past years and right here, where the three rivers converge, it seems it’s been magnified.”
Guilt squirmed in his gut. He didn’t want to hear this. But Bliss was merciless.
“Three River, Twinridge, Hard Tack, not to mention all the smaller places in between, they’ve all been hit with all manner of trials and tribulations. Our people—your people—are hurting. We are in dire need of good news, things to celebrate. Rory understood that; that’s why she insisted on dragging us all out to go dancing in the middle of a blizzard.”
“Yeah, I came out for that, as you might recall.” The worst night of his life. Well, almost.
Bliss sniffed, as if the trouble he’d gone to was meaningless.
“That party was the best thing for us all, though we wanted to kill her at the time. Now you waltz in, announcing the miraculous re-twanging of your heartstrings for Sabrina. As good as this news is, Mitch—and do not underestimate how much joy it will bring—the party will turn quick as a wink to an angry mob with torches aimed in your direction, should we learn that you’re taking our good nurse away.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Mitch interrupted desperately. “In fact, I’m helping her expand her clinic.”
“So you’re back home for good.”
“What?” A second too late, he saw the trap. “We…haven’t decided yet.”
She pursed her lips and nodded. “I told you not to lie to me.” Her voice was ominously quiet. Mitch felt as if she’d just pushed him into a grave and was about to toss the first shovelful of dirt onto his head.
“It’s…complicated,” he said miserably. “I’ll explain it all as soon as I can.”
“If not sooner.” She stroked her chin thoughtfully. “Is Sabrina in on it, at least?”
“Yes! Completely! God, Bliss, how low do you think I’d go?”
Bliss sniffed. “Wish I knew.”
“You have to go along with it, okay?” He should have known Bliss would get the truth out of him. “I can’t tell you everything but it has to do with Della Fontaine, the woman who’s coming to the ranch. She’s… It’s strictly a business thing.”
“You complete dunderhead. It’s like I flap my gums into the wind, just for the exercise. Something like this, with kids who’ve got the kind of history you two have, it’s never just business. You just don’t know it yet.”
“You’re wrong. It’s just for a month, just until Della signs off on the deal. I don’t have a choice.”
“There’s always a choice.”
“Not this time! But trust me, I’m not going to hurt Bree. In fact, I’m doing her expansion project in return. It’s a good deal for both of us. But Della won’t buy into it unless everyone else does.”
Bliss looked at him with the kind of sympathy you gave a bird that insisted on banging its head into a window and pecked you when you tried to stop it. She opened her mouth, then sighed and shut it again.
“What? I’m trying to do the right thing here.”
She snorted at that. “You don’t even know what the right thing is, my dear boy. And after all the work I put into you. You were like a son to me and now I barely recognize you.”
Much as Bliss frustrated him, he couldn’t argue with that. She’d been the closest thing to a mother he’d had through his teen years. She loved with her whole heart, that woman, but in return, she believed she had the right to speak her mind at every opportunity.
“So you’ll play along, then?” he asked.
“I’m not gonna lie for you, if that’s what you’re asking,” she responded, most unhelpfully. “You dug this grave, you’re going to have to chew your way out of it yourself.”
The winding drive up to the Three River Ranch main yard was not particularly suited to limos. Mitch winced as he heard the sound of a rock scraping the undercarriage of the elegant vehicle. It pulled to a stop and before the driver could get out, Della’s door burst open and she stuck out a shiny cowboy-booted foot. A black-and-gold lizard-skin boot with rivets over the arch.
“Mitchell! We’re here! Come unwedge me from this tin can.”
Della’s outfit, as she emerged into the sunlight, was exactly what he would have expected, had he thought about it in advance. Which he should have, so he could warn people.
She grunted as she got to her feet, hauling on his arm. The first thing he saw was a vast expanse of flesh, rising like the backside of a small child from a strange off-the-shoulder thing with tight, long sleeves. And was that velvet? The woman knew how to make an entrance.
Then she straightened, revealing a long, massively lacy skirt that may have been Western-wear in another century but would be worse than useless here and now. She jammed a deep-purple hat onto her head.
“Well, howdy-doody,” she said, panting. “I am sure glad to be here in one piece. Thought that last road might be heading straight to hell. How do I look?”
“Great, Della.”
“I ought to,” she said, giving her bust a bump. “It’s Marrika Nakk. Wasted on a woman my size but Paris won’t go near her.”
Oddly enough, the outlandish outfit suited her. Not being compared with her skeletal socialite pals probably helped.
He leaned forward to kiss her cheek. “Whatever it is, it’s working. Welcome.”
“Oh, you!” Della said. “Don’t worry, I’ve got boring old jeans and shirts for everyday stuff. But you know me, I love to make an entrance
!”
On the other side, Paris emerged, a look of awe on her face. She thankfully was dressed appropriately. Ordinary jeans, button-down shirt, and beautifully tooled but well-worn boots. She seemed much more comfortable in her skin, not fragile and vulnerable as she’d been when they’d first met.
“Hey Mitch,” she said. “Thanks for having us out.”
Her straight white-blond hair disappeared beneath a tan Resistol hat that completed her transformation. Huh, thought Mitch. Maybe Della’s not as obtuse as she makes herself out to be. Maybe the girl really needs this.
“Let me get your bags,” he said.
“Don’t be silly, that’s what Melvin is for.” Della waved her hand at the driver. “Melvin, you can take our luggage to…where, Mitch?” She looked around her expectantly.
Mitch pointed in the direction of the guesthouse and instantly he saw her expression change. It was a lovely little cottage, especially at this time of year. It was small, two bedrooms, one bathroom, and a cozy kitchen with a fridge and microwave. When plans to renovate the main house had initially gotten under way, years ago, Mitch and Carson’s father had moved into the guesthouse. Then Derek Granger stalled, the renovation plans stalled, and Three River Ranch nearly dissolved.
Then Derek died, Carson inherited, and now, besides a working ranch, it was a sanctuary for the wild mustangs Carson so loved.
Although Mitch had only heard broad strokes of the story, he knew that the guesthouse had brought Carson and Rory together. They’d obviously taken good care of the little cottage. Vines covered the arbor partially enclosing the patio, and from the rear, the valley and the mountains beyond spread out before them like a kitschy landscape painting.
“Now that’s what I call roughing it, hey Paris?” Her face brightened as Rory came forward, Lulu on her hip. “You the lady of the house?”
“I suppose,” Rory said with an answering smile. “I’m more of a rancher than a lady now, though.”
“Aurora Granger,” Mitch said, “meet Della Fontaine and Paris Waterton.”
“I’m sorry to say I never took Paris’s daddy’s name,” Della explained, putting a hand on the girl’s shoulder. “You see, I was born a Blewett. Thought I’d improve on that by getting married. Ha! My first husband was a Lipschiz and my second, a Hancock. When I landed on Oscar Fontaine, I grabbed on to his name and swore I’d never let go. After he died, I met Nate Waterton.”
She looked pensive for a moment. “A good man, my Nate. Turns out, my best husband was the only one who didn’t try to change me.”
An awkward silence fell. Then Rory reached out.
“Well, welcome, both of you! Everyone calls me Rory.” They exchanged handshakes. “This is Lesley, but she goes by Lulu. Or Drooly-Face, now that she’s teething. Welcome!”
Paris immediately lowered her face to Lulu’s and started talking to her. The kid babbled back, waving her little arms in excitement.
“As soon as you’re settled, come on up to the main house. Bliss has got a feast waiting for you.” She hiked Lulu, who was leaning toward Paris, higher onto her hip.
“Mama, Mama,” Lulu babbled. “Who da lady?”
“I’m Paris, sweetie,” Paris said, reaching for her. “You want to come to me?”
“Be my guest,” Rory said. She passed her daughter over, then turned back to Mitch, flexing her wrist. “Get your stuff. I’m putting you in the new addition.”
“Oh, don’t go to any trouble,” he said immediately. He hadn’t anticipated how strange it would feel to be sleeping under this roof again. He wondered how Carson would take the news.
“He’s no doubt staying with his fiancée,” Della called. “When do we meet her, anyway? Will she be here tonight? Or are you two planning to disappear on your own for a little reconnection time?”
For some likely Freudian reason, Mitch reflected, he’d allowed this crucial bit of information to be announced by the person guaranteed to do it with the least tact.
“Fiancée!” Rory exclaimed. Then she laughed. “I’m pretty sure that if a miracle of that magnitude occurred, we’d know about it.”
Della was on that like a hound on deer scat. “He hasn’t told you? Well-hell-hell. Already this trip has become more interesting than I’d even hoped.”
Rory’s smile faded as she turned to Mitch. “What’s she talking about, honey? She can’t be serious. Are you actually seeing someone?”
“Don’t worry, Aurora,” Della said, patting her on the shoulder. The woman had a way of taking over a conversation, a room, a world. It was her ultimate power and the worst thing about her. “He never even let on to me that he was dating, let alone planning to tie the knot. All I can say is I can’t wait to meet the woman he thinks is better than my Paris.”
Paris winced and Mitch bristled on her behalf.
“Della!” he protested. “For God’s sake. As if Paris would want anything to do with an old man like me. But if I were ten years younger, darlin’…” He winked at the girl. She didn’t deserve this.
She blushed and gave him a small smile. Poor kid.
“Old, schmold,” Della said. “You’re what, thirty? Thirty-two? My first husband…or was it my second?…no definitely my first, was thirty-two when I was born. A dozen years difference? Piffle!”
“Della, please!” Paris begged, her face flaming.
“Oh fine,” she groused. But at least she stopped.
“So it’s true, then?” Rory hugged Mitch. “Does Carson know? Does Zach know? Don’t tell me I’m the last one to find out!”
“Find out what?” Bliss stepped onto the porch. “I’m growing old waiting for you all to come inside. Apparently the good stuff is happening out here, where there’s no food and nowhere to sit down. I’m Bliss Henderson. I run this joint.”
She stuck her hand toward Della and instantly, Mitch felt the universe undergo a seismic adjustment of a magnitude previously unseen, resulting from an unstoppable force meeting an immovable object. The two women sized each other up, recognizing, no doubt, the potential for both threat and alliance.
But when Bliss turned to Paris, her demeanor softened. She pulled the girl into her motherly arms. “Welcome! You’re going to love it here. My niece is about your age, and she’s been dying for some young company. I’ll tell you one thing, I’m going to enjoy feeding you.”
“The girl’s naturally skinny.” Della crossed her arms. “You make it sound like she’s spent her life sucking the hind teat.”
“Heavens.” Bliss put a hand to her chest. “I’m sure I didn’t mean to. But that brings me to meals. I don’t cook fancy, but you’ll never go to bed hungry in my house. Is there anything you don’t eat?”
Challenge extended.
“Nope,” Della said. “In fact, it’ll be a treat to have plain, hearty fare instead of all that gor-may stuff I get at home.”
Challenge accepted.
“Mitch is engaged, Bliss!” Rory exclaimed, obviously desperate to defuse the situation. “Did you know?”
Bliss’s face underwent a panoply of changes as she attempted to look innocent, confused, and outraged, all at once. “Why Mitchell Granger. I am one hundred percent shocked.”
It was like living inside a chicken coop. The women clustered around him cackling and pecking and Mitch felt as if he couldn’t breathe. He should have anticipated this. What was the matter with him? He’d been so focused on getting Della and Paris out here, dealing with whatever needed to be done to expedite this deal, he’d forgotten to mention the tiny little matter of his fake fiancée.
And then, like a white knight arriving from the forest, came the sound of her little Smart car.
Sabrina.
She rolled up beside him, waving her hand out the open window. Right, thought Mitch. She and Rory were friends. Hadn’t Bree delivered Lulu? Or at least been there?
She jumped out of the little car and stepped to his side, beaming. With a quick, sly grin up at him, she tucked her hand into his arm and hugged herself
close enough that he could smell her shampoo. Instantly the fresh scent transported him back to that brief time when everything in his life had been wonderful. When they’d been in love for real, but on the sly. Now it was public, but fake.
“So?” she said. “Have you told them?”
For about three seconds, there was no noise at all. Were they even breathing? Then, shrieks all around.
“I came straight from work,” Sabrina said apologetically, waggling her left hand, “so you’ll have to wait to see the ring.”
Mitch sent her a grateful smile. She blew him a kiss.
“But wait until you see it.” She put a hand to her heart. “It’s the most gorgeous rock I’ve ever seen. Definitely too big to risk losing it at the clinic, so I leave it safely at home.”
“It’s…it’s not that big,” Mitch said, his heart rate picking up.
“How many carats is it, honey?” She batted her eyes at Mitch. “Two? Three?”
“I can’t remember, darling. You must be blinded by love, ’cause it’s definitely not as big as you think.”
“Oh Mitch,” Sabrina said, with a wink at Rory. “He’s being modest. You know men. They can never get it right when it comes to size. They all think this is six inches, too.”
She put her thumb and forefinger together, about an inch apart.
Hoots of laughter rose among them again as Mitch dropped his forehead into his palm. Thankfully, they soon began making their way into the house.
Women.
Bliss came back down the steps to the yard and pulled Mitch into a tight squeeze.
“How’d I do? I disapprove of this whole charade, but I admit it’s fun to playact,” she stage-whispered in his ear. He could feel her shaking.
“You did just fine, Bliss,” he assured her, knowing there was no other possible answer.
Then she smacked him on the cheek, just hard enough to remind him who was in charge. Tears glistened on her lined face. “You, Sabrina, and I are going to have a talk later on. You’ve got some answering to do. But Mitch?”
Fake Fiance, Real Revenge: A Three River Ranch Novel (Entangled Bliss) Page 5