His Heartbroken Bride (The Brides of Paradise Ranch - Spicy Version Book 4)

by Merry Farmer

All Libby could manage to say was, “Thank you.” She reached out to squeeze Wendy’s hand when she came near. The urge to share her decision was there, but it wouldn’t be right to tell anyone about it before she had a chance to talk to Mason.

  “I think I’ll enjoy having you as a sister-in-law,” Wendy went on, smiling. “Travis thinks the world of you.”

  Pink flooded Libby’s cheeks. “That’s kind of him.” What would he think if—

  No. She stopped herself. The time for those thoughts and the pity that went with them had passed. She had to think about the future, about making a good life for her children.

  “Well, I won’t keep you. You have lots of getting ready to do.” Wendy took a few steps away. She was about to head on when she stopped and turned back. “Oh, by the way, there’s a man in town looking for you.”

  All of Libby’s resolve shattered. “What?”

  “Apparently he just got off the train. Handsome man,” Wendy added. “Strong shoulders, square jaw, dark eyes.”

  Hector.

  Libby’s knees went weak. “Thank you,” she muttered, then turned away and all but fled down the road to Josephine’s house.

  “There you are,” Josephine called out to her as she stumbled into the house. “We were beginning to wonder if the wind had blown you up into the mountains.”

  “Mama, look at my biscuit tower,” Matthew hollered from the kitchen table.

  “Eat your food, don’t play with it.” Petey scolded his brother the way Libby had scolded both of them more times than she could count.

  Normally, Libby would have gone to the kitchen to see what mischief her boys had gotten up to. She would have laughed with them, complimented their food sculpture, and asked Teddy if he’d gotten into that sort of mischief when he was a boy. But Teddy wasn’t there. Hector was. Everything was about to come crashing down around her.

  She rushed up to Muriel’s bedroom and shut the door behind her. She pressed her back to the door, panting. The wedding dress Wendy had made hung off of Muriel’s wardrobe door. It was a modest, dove gray with lace trim. It should have been scarlet. That’s what she deserved. The one man who knew that better than anyone else had just arrived in town, no doubt to make her life a living hell all over again.

  Chapter Five

  Mason paced the front of Haskell’s church, rubbing the back of his neck and mulling over the conversation he’d had with Libby in the street. He didn’t have to be a college-educated man to understand that there was more going on than Libby was telling him. He respected her right to stay silent and deal with whatever was bothering her on her own, but he sure did wish she’d tell him.

  He laughed at himself and shook his head.

  “What’s all that about?” Travis asked from his seat in the first pew. Travis was there to serve as his best man, but at the moment, he was more useful as a brother.

  “Just laughing at myself is all,” he replied.

  Travis crossed his arms. “Care to share the joke?”

  Mason stopped pacing. “In my entire life, when have you ever known me to spot a problem and get up out of my chair to do something about it?”

  Travis shrugged. “You’re more of the kind to wait and watch and see if it resolves itself on its own. That or figuring out exactly who’s best to solve a problem and getting them involved.”

  “Exactly.” Mason spread his arms to underscore the point. “So how come I’ve got this itching to do something about a problem I see right now?”

  Travis glanced over his shoulder to the back of the church—where Libby’s family, Wendy, and Cody chattered in puzzled whispers—as if the problem was there, then twisted back to face Mason with a brotherly grin. “You’re growing up, I guess.” He chuckled.

  Mason would have laughed with him if he didn’t continue to feel the need to pounce on or punch someone. He slipped onto the pew beside Travis and whispered, “I ran into Libby this morning. I think she’s having second thoughts.”

  “Oh?” Travis arched a brow. The two brothers watched Rev. Pickering as he crossed the front of the church, making final preparations for the ceremony. “Seems to be a problem we Montrose men have.”

  Mason hummed in thought. “She wanted to give me a chance to back out, said she would understand if I thought I couldn’t live with her ghosts.”

  “Ghosts?” Travis’s expression lightened. “What, is she haunted or something?”

  Mason elbowed him hard. “Teddy,” he said. “She had to mean Teddy. I told her that I would always honor and respect Teddy’s memory. I would understand if she never loved me like she loved him, even though I—” He snapped his mouth shut and clenched his jaw.

  “Even though you love her,” Travis finished with a knowing grin. He elbowed Mason, though not as hard as Mason had him. “She’ll show up.”

  Mason lowered his voice even further. “You sure about that?”

  Travis grunted. “I may not know much, but one thing Wendy has taught me so far in our marriage is that a woman’s heart is a beautiful and tender thing. It can be easily broken, but it also heals quickly if the woman in question knows securely that she is loved.” He nodded. “Make sure you let Libby know that you love her—and by the way, woman can tell that sort of thing whether you come right out with it or not—and she’ll open her heart to you in a hurry.”

  “I don’t know.” Mason rubbed his jaw. “I still think there’s something deeply important going on that she hasn’t told me about.”

  “Then ask her.”

  “I did. I don’t think I got the full answer.”

  “Then ask again.”

  “I will. If she shows up.” He blew out a breath and ran a hand through his hair, sinking to sit splayed on the pew. “I can’t explain it,” he went on. “There’s just a feeling in my gut that something is undone right now. It’s like—”

  His analogy was cut short as the door at the back of the church flew open. The chill, November wind banged it against the wall, causing everyone in the church to jump. Mason leapt to his feet, but only because Libby stood in the doorway.

  “Thank God.” The tightness in his chest eased up. He hadn’t known how anxious he’d been for her, how desperately he had wanted her to show up and go through with things, until he saw her standing there, framed in the bright light of morning pouring in through the door.

  Her face was pink, and her chest rose and fell in deep pants—as if she’d run to the church. Her eyes were large and round. Panic radiated from her.

  Mason’s heart turned to steel in his chest. He balled his hands into fists and marched to the back of the church, ready to defend Libby to the death if someone had so much as said boo to her.

  “Sorry.” Libby took a few steps toward him, reaching out. She turned her head to repeat to the cluster of her family, “Sorry. The wind blew the door. I didn’t mean to frighten anyone.” She stepped over to hug each of her boys.

  And yet, she was deeply frightened herself. As soon as she stepped away from Petey and Matthew, Mason took her hands and pulled her close.

  “We were beginning to think we’d have to go back to the house to get you,” Josephine laughed.

  “Yeah,” little Petey seconded. “Matthew thought you decided to go back home to Oregon without us.”

  Libby had been about to lean against Mason’s side, but at her son’s words, she leapt toward him. “No, sweetheart, never.” She hugged Petey, then reached for Matthew and drew him into the embrace as well. Voice shaking, she went on with, “I will never leave you, and I’ll never go back there. You don’t have to worry about that.”

  Mason exchanged a concerned glance with Pete Evans over Libby’s head. It looked as though Pete had caught the odd sound of Libby’s promise too. He looked as fierce as any father who suspected his daughter was in trouble. Knowing he wasn’t alone in his assessment of things hardened Mason’s resolve to get to the bottom of Libby’s troubles as soon as possible. But first things first.

  “Rev. Pickering, are you
ready?” he called up to the front of the church.

  “Yes, whenever you are,” the young reverend replied.

  Libby straightened from hugging her boys and stepped across to Mason. Mason took her arm and escorted her down the aisle, her family and his brothers and friends following behind.

  “You didn’t change your mind?” he whispered so that only Libby could hear.

  She shook her head tightly. As answers went, it wasn’t reassuring.

  “Libby, you’re certain you want to go through with this?” he asked again, more serious.

  “Yes,” she breathed as they reached the front of the church and paused to face each other. “Yes, I want to marry you. As soon as possible. Right away.”

  The fear in her eyes doubled. It was enough to leave Mason with the sensation of crawling out of his skin. What was he supposed to do? He loved this woman. Under the circumstances, he was ready to admit that and all that it meant. He loved her enough to marry her that instant, knowing she was hiding things. But Lord above, he wished she’d tell him what it was so that he could help her.

  Well, for the moment, the best way he could help her was to do what she wanted and marry her as quickly as Rev. Pickering could get through the sermon.

  “We’re doing the right thing,” he told Libby as they quickly signed the marriage certificate, then stepped into place.

  She managed to smile as she glanced up at him, though her lashes were damp with tears. “I know.”

  It was too soon to kiss her the way he wanted, so Mason raised one of her hands to his lips and kissed that instead. He then turned to Rev. Pickering and nodded.

  Rev. Pickering nodded in return, then began. “Dearly beloved, we are gathered her today to join this man and this woman in holy matrimony.”

  All through the short service, panic shone from Libby’s eyes. It could have been one of the wild emotional swings that women went through when they were expecting. But no, it was far sharper and more immediate than any of the worry or distress he’d felt from her in the last few days, since she’d gotten off the train. It was almost as if a clock was ticking somewhere behind her and Libby was waiting for the hour to strike. By the time Rev. Pickering reached the vows themselves, Libby was shaking.

  “Do you, Mason Curtis Montrose, take this woman, Elizabeth Chance Sims, to be your lawfully wedded wife, to have and to hold, in sickness and in health, ’til death do you part?”

  “I do,” Mason said as if he was promising to avenge someone’s death, staring straight into Libby’s eyes.

  “And do you, Elizabeth Sims, take this man, Mason Montrose, to be your husband, to love, honor, and obey, ’til death to you part?”

  “I—”

  Libby’s mouth hung open. Her desperate eyes pleaded with Mason for…something. She looked as though she was about to weep…or run. Mason squeezed her hands in his, nodding subtly, willing her to feel his love for her and his unspoken promise to support her, no matter what.

  At last, Libby swallowed and said, “I do. I promise, I do.”

  Mason burst into a smile as Rev. Pickering said, “Then by the power invested in me by God, the Territory of Wyoming, and the town of Haskell, I now pronounce you husband and wife. What God has joined together, let no man put asunder.”

  Mason was so relieved that he surged forward to kiss Libby, eyes closed. She fell, limp, against him, her mouth soft and pliable as she accepted his kiss. He wrapped his arms around her when he was done, more grateful than he’d ever been for anything now that she was his wife. Miracles truly did happen. He’d been given a second chance with the woman he’d loved and lost ten years ago. Whatever weighed on her soul, he would dedicate himself to helping her overcome it. He would raise Teddy’s boys, bring the new baby into the world, with all the devotion of—

  The church door banged open like a gunshot. A swirl of brown leaves blew into the church along with the cold wind and a man Mason had never seen before. He wore a long, wool coat and held a hat in his hands. His square jaw, dark hair, and expressive eyes were just the sort of thing that women turned to butter over, but something about the stranger set Mason’s teeth on edge.

  “I’m sorry,” he said, stepping to the side to shut and secure the church door. All present stared at him as he did so. When at last he faced them again and started down the aisle, he wore a charming smile that displayed straight, white teeth. “Sorry to interrupt, but I’m looking for my fiancée.”

  Libby gasped and sagged against Mason. Mason had had his arms around her from the moment the stranger threw open the door, shielding her from sight. Now he loosened his embrace. Libby continued to cling to him for a moment, her trembling doubled. Then she stood straight, facing the stranger.

  The stranger’s charming smile faltered. “What is the meaning of this?”

  Libby brushed her hands on her skirt and tilted her chin up, but her eyes struggled to meet those of the stranger. “Hector.” She nodded.

  “Libby.” The stranger—Hector—pursed his lips. “Why are you standing up at the front of a church with a man?”

  Tiny, sickening pieces of the grander puzzle that was Libby began to fall into place. Mason knew the kind of possessiveness in this fellow Hector’s gaze as he looked at Libby. He knew it because he felt it himself. This man wanted Libby.

  At the back of the church, Pete Evans, Luke, and even young Freddy stood, stepping forward, ready for action if action was needed.

  “She’s standing up here because we’ve just gotten married,” Mason snapped. There was no point in pretending courtesy, even though he’d barely met the man. Too many things had just come clear in Mason’s mind to bother with niceties, the reasons Libby was afraid among them.

  “Married?” Hector crushed his fist around his hat and glared at Libby. “We were supposed to get married.”

  “No, Hector,” Libby whispered.

  “You do not tell me no.”

  Their watching friends and family gasped. Pete and Luke stepped toward Hector. Mason jerked toward the man too, hands forming fists. “Don’t speak to my wife like that.”

  Hector squared his shoulders and gaped at Mason in disbelief. “Do you even know who she is?”

  “As a matter of fact, I do.” Mason edged sideways so he could shelter Libby from the interloper with his body. “I’ve been friends with Libby—and with Teddy—for more than ten years.”

  Hector narrowed his eyes. “I see.”

  “I hope you do.”

  A nasty grin spread across Hector’s face. “I suppose she’s told you that she’s pregnant?”

  A ripple of shock spread through Libby’s friends and family—not, Mason supposed, because they didn’t know, but because this man who had just walked into all of their lives did.

  “In fact, she has,” Mason said.

  Hector’s vicious smile grew. “Did she tell you it’s mine?”

  Dead silence filled the church. The air crackled, as if a storm were about to break.

  “That’s a damn lie,” Mason growled.

  “Mason.” Libby whispered his name, resting her small, shaking hand on his back.

  “You’d better get out of here before I do more than call you a liar,” Mason went on, narrowing his eyes at Hector.

  Hector snorted. “I’m no liar. Ask her.” He pointed. “Ask Libby. She knows the truth.” Victory and lust burned in Hector’s eyes.

  “I’m not interested in anything you have to say.” Mason didn’t tear his eyes off of Hector’s seething grin.

  “No? Well you should be.” Hector shifted his weight to his other foot, crushing his hat in his other hand. “You say you just married her?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well, you married a whore who gives herself to one man, then turns around and marries another before any promises can be fulfilled.”

  Josephine and Wendy gasped, and Josephine tried to cover Muriel’s ears. Muriel was too old for that, but gaped in horror all the same. Pete—who had been holding back, letting Mason h
andle things—stepped forward.

  “Mister, I don’t know who you think you are, but you’d do best to get your sorry ass and your shameless lies out of this church before—”

  “He’s not lying,” Libby said, almost too quiet to be heard.

  Once again, silence rattled the church. The hair on the back of Mason’s neck stood up, as if pushed by fury. He already had his hands balled into fists, and now more than ever, he wanted to use them.

  “It’s all right, Libby,” he managed to squeeze out through clenched jaw. “I’ll take care of this lowlife turd.”

  Hector stiffened in offence.

  “But he’s not lying.” This time, Libby’s whisper was so low that only Mason could hear her. “He…he is the father of my baby.”

  The shock of the truth made Mason’s hands and feet numb, but not with anger. At least, not toward her. Libby’s hand was still on his back, her other one on his arm, and both were shaking as if they were standing in the snow. Hector looked on with a sneer. None of it added up. Facts or no facts, the situation wasn’t what it appeared to be.

  “She’s my wife now.” Mason broke the silence, sounding far more confident and solid than he felt.

  “What?” Hector blinked, then frowned. He shot a fierce look past Mason’s shoulder. “Libby.”

  “I will not marry you, Hector.” Libby answered as if it wasn’t the first time she’d spoken those words. “I’m married to Mason now.”

  Hector worked his jaw in frustration. “I went through all that trouble to trace where you’d gone, I left my work to come after you to bring you home, and you went and married someone else? After everything we shared?”

  Libby stepped further behind Mason’s back. Her forehead touched Mason’s shoulder. He didn’t need to get a look at her to know she was terrified down to her toes. Terrified by a man who claimed she was his fiancée? Who declared she was carrying his child in front of witnesses? It was all very, very wrong.

  “You heard her,” Mason snapped, raising his voice. “She married me. Now I’m beginning to understand why.”

  “You don’t understand anything,” Hector spat. “You don’t understand that that woman was meant to be mine for a long time. She is mine. She’s carrying my child to prove it.”