Tatum inhaled sharply. “Drew!”
Before Ryder could offer an explanation, he was grabbed from behind, his arms anchored by the strong grip of one of the deputies.
“Just come with me, sir. If you know what’s good for you.”
“Wait a minute,” Ryder protested.
“It’ll go easier for you if you don’t make a fuss. This young lady’s father insists you do right by her.”
“What?” Ryder twisted to see over his shoulder. Another deputy had a hold of Tatum.
“This way, sir.”
“My father’s in Michigan.” Tatum’s objection also fell on deaf ears.
The two of them were escorted across the street to the judge’s stand in front of the library.
Donnie Statler sat behind the table, wearing a black judge’s robe and spectacles. “You’re in a lot of trouble, young man.”
“How much do I owe, your honor?” Ryder was more than happy to make a donation.
“Not so fast. We’re far from done here.”
Ryder turned to Tatum, his brows raised.
She shook her head in bewilderment.
Donnie banged his gavel. “I need two volunteers to witness the union between this man and this woman.”
Chapter Ten
Tatum didn’t know who was responsible for this...this...stunt—she’d put her money on Sunny—but when she found out, they were going to get a very large piece of her mind. Forced into a mock wedding ceremony with Ryder! Of all the nerve. Thank goodness her mother-in-law had been nearby and able to watch the kids.
Her mother-in-law! Oh, my God. What must she be thinking? She already didn’t like Ryder just because Adam called him Daddy. Which he wouldn’t do if he saw more of Monty.
Could her day get any worse?
Even though the young deputy holding her was bigger and stronger, she tried wrenching free. He held fast.
“Now, now. Your pa will have my hide if I let you get away.”
“My pa!” she sputtered and whirled on him, then gasped with shock. Her eyes narrowed. “I know you.”
He averted his head.
“You’re Kenny’s cousin.” Kenny was a teenager who worked part-time at the arena.
No doubt remained. Sunny had to be behind this. Damn her blasted matchmaking scheme.
“First order of business,” the judge continued in a booming voice, “is the marriage license fee. Customary amount is ten dollars but we’ll gladly accept more. And my clerk over there takes credit cards.” He motioned to a young woman with a scanner attached to her smart phone.
My, how times had changed.
Ryder, also closely guarded by a deputy, reached into his back pocket and withdrew his wallet.
“You don’t have to do that,” Tatum said.
Ryder spared her a sideways glance, then withdrew two twenties. Quadruple the fee. Well, that was nice of him, and the amount would buy a lot of books for the library.
Her earlier irritation toward him evaporated. He really was a generous guy. All he’d done was offer to help her with a craft store business that would likely never see the light of day, and all she’d done was chastise him, then practically ignore him.
“Let’s get this over with,” he grumbled.
She immediately retracted all her good and kind thoughts about him and snapped, “You aren’t the only one being put on the spot.”
“Shall we proceed with the vows?” The judge indicated the man guarding Ryder. “Do you have the rings, Deputy?”
The man fished two items from his shirt front pocket. “Right here, your honor.” He gave one to Ryder and the other to Tatum.
She reluctantly accepted the dime store plastic ring. Green? Really? Who had a green wedding ring? Ryder’s, she noticed, was blue.
“Do you, Tatum Mayweather, take Ryder Beckett as your lawfully wedded husband? To have and to hold until death do you part?”
She rolled her eyes.
“Hurry up, miss.” The judge glared at her. “Yours isn’t the only ceremony I have scheduled today.”
In that moment, she recognized him. Donnie Statler from the Lost Dutchman Rodeo Company and a friend of the Becketts. The robe and slicked-back hair had thrown her off. Sunny was certainly calling in the favors.
“Fine.” Tatum ground out.
“I believe the correct response is, I do.”
“Okay. I do.” She caught sight of Ryder, and her breath abruptly stilled. He didn’t look nearly as perturbed as she felt.
“Your turn,” the judge—make that, Donnie—said to Ryder. “Do you, Ryder Beckett, take Tatum Mayweather as your lawfully wedded wife? To have and to hold until death do you part?”
Ryder didn’t hesitate. He captured both of Tatum’s hands in his and gazed deeply into her eyes. “I do.”
He did? He would? Her knees weakened even as her heart beat wildly with the anticipation of a bride on her wedding day.
Wait, wait, wait. This wasn’t real. She and Ryder weren’t getting married. And, yet, a part of her, the part that held her true feelings for him in a small, secret place, wanted to believe it.
“Now for the rings,” Donnie said. “Tatum, repeat after me. With this ring, I thee wed.”
She heard the pretend judge through a haze and, despite her impaired senses, repeated the words. With trembling fingers, she placed the green ring on Ryder’s finger. It slid easily over his knuckle, fitting as if custom-made. She stared at the ring for several seconds, mesmerized.
Taking her hand, Ryder slipped the blue ring onto her left finger. It, too, fit perfectly. “With this ring, I thee wed.”
Tears stung Tatum’s eyes. She couldn’t be crying. Not here, not now. Blinking, she fought to bring her spiraling emotions under control.
Donnie banged his gavel again, giving her a start. “I now pronounce you man and wife. Young man, you may kiss your bride.”
A kiss! She’d forgotten about that part.
Tatum had no time to prepare herself before Ryder’s mouth claimed hers with a possessiveness that was every bit as wonderful as she might have wished for.
He didn’t break away, even when one of the deputies cleared his throat. Neither did she. His arms, firm and strong, circled her waist and drew her closer. Tatum had no choice but to go up on her tiptoes.
Actually, technically, she did have another option. But she wasn’t about to end this incredible, impossible moment.
“Setting the bar kind of high for the rest of us, aren’t you?” The remark came from a man in the audience.
Audience! She’d somehow forgotten they weren’t alone. Quickly, she pulled away. When Ryder didn’t stop her, she scrambled down the platform steps and plunged into the crowd.
Where were her children? Her glance darted from one end of the street to the other. Back at the store? They must be.
She hadn’t gone far when Ryder caught up with her. “Wait.”
“Please. Not now.”
He kept up with her frantic scurrying. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I took things too far.”
“It wasn’t your fault.” She’d participated fully. Willingly. “I think your mother set us up.” She scanned nearby faces, furtively searching for those of her children.
“She may have. But the kiss was my idea and mine alone.”
“Ryder, it’s okay.”
“I won’t bother you again.”
“Bother?” She stopped short.
“Bad choice of words,” he said.
“No kidding.”
Knocking back his cowboy hat, he chuckled dryly. “How is it I can never say or do the right thing around you?”
“And that’s funny?” She reached for her purse, only to realize she’d left it behind on her lawn cha
ir. So much for phoning her mother-in-law.
“That was a self-deprecating laugh.”
“Mommy!” Gretchen’s cry carried over the crowd. “We’re here.”
Relief flooded Tatum. She started forward, only to have Ryder block her path.
“I have an appointment early next week in Globe with a potential new client. I want you to come along and shadow me.”
“No.”
“We’re a good team. We proved that with Marshall Whitmen.”
“Your father—”
“I already cleared it with him.”
She studied his expression. “What’s really going on?”
He hesitated before answering. “Nothing.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“Nothing yet.”
“You have another interview.”
“The less said, the better. I refuse to put you in a position where you have to lie for me.”
Dammit. He was being obstinate.
“Mommy!” Gretchen’s call sounded closer and more urgent.
“Goodbye, Ryder.”
Tatum left him standing there. As she hurried toward her children, she held her left hand out in front of her.
The cheap blue ring gathered the sun’s rays and, for a split second, glinted brightly, more dazzling than any gold wedding band.
Sadly, the effect didn’t linger. Like Ryder’s affection for her, it was only fleeting.
* * *
RYDER NEEDED TO return to Phoenix to wrap up some loose ends. That, at least, was the excuse he’d given his family. Tatum heard it from Sunny. Not him. Truthfully, he’d kept scarce since the Wild West Days Rodeo.
It was for the best, she insisted. Their pretend wedding may have been a farce, but her emotional reaction to it was real and, frankly, alarming.
A busy schedule had made avoiding Ryder, and protecting her heart, easy. The only time they’d talked was when he mentioned the meeting in Globe tomorrow with the potential new client. He was determined she accompany him and—what had he called it?—shadow him. She’d refused and assumed the subject was closed. Then, this morning, he’d sent her an email.
Groaning in frustration, Tatum pushed thoughts of Ryder from her mind. She had a lot of work piled on her desk, typical after a big rodeo. Final attendance numbers needed to be run. Contract laborers paid. Remaining funds deposited in the bank. Follow-up phone calls placed and photos uploaded to the website.
She welcomed the distraction. The school board was convening tomorrow and deciding on the new budget. Sunny had promised to inform Tatum of the voting outcome right away. She kept reminding herself it wasn’t the end of the world if the school didn’t rehire her. Her job at the arena wasn’t unpleasant. More importantly, it enabled her to put a decent roof over her children’s heads, albeit a small one.
So what if they didn’t have a backyard to play in or the latest electronic learning devices? The wolf wasn’t howling at their door anymore. And there were her art classes.
For the time being, that was. Until Lenny leased out her space. Perhaps she could find a new one...
Longing to teach full-time returned, an ever-growing void deep inside her. Managing an office, even a busy one, didn’t give her the same satisfaction as standing in front of a classroom filled with bright, eager students ready to learn.
Maybe someday she’d teach again. Yes, someday, she promised herself. In Reckless or elsewhere. No reason she had to remain. Especially if Ryder left.
Hold on a minute! What did she care if he stayed or went? It had no bearing on her plans.
She cared because Ryder was important to the Becketts, and they mattered to her.
Returning to her computer, Tatum opened the spreadsheet she’d started earlier that day and began making entries. Mercer wanted to see how the various bucking stock performed based on the competitors’ scores. Together, they’d designed a report that would give him the information in a concise, easy-to-read format. It was a task right up Sunny’s alley, but Tatum was the one Mercer had asked for assistance.
Sunny said she was fine with it. Tatum thought otherwise.
As much as she loved the Becketts, she’d grown weary of their ceaseless squabbling. They sure knew how to make things hard on each other. Cassidy had told Tatum about Mercer’s desire to purchase additional bulls. Sunny, of course, objected, and, as usual, the three siblings were taking sides and forming alliances. Though they were attempting to be civilized, tensions simmered just beneath the surface, and they were no fun to be around.
Then again, who was Tatum to talk? The Mayweathers were no better. She and Ruth hadn’t spoken since Saturday. Monty, however, had called last night after two weeks of “radio silence.” He’d asked about Drew’s dislocated pinky, then pumped her for information on her personal life. Awkward!
Ruth must have put him up to it, and Monty went along. That he should take an interest only because another man was in the picture irked Tatum to no end. Weren’t their children important enough on their own?
She winced as a headache chose that moment to make its presence known. Frankly, she didn’t blame Ryder for his unexpected trip to Phoenix, if that was indeed where he’d gone. He could have flown out for the day to L.A. or even Denver to interview. She envied his ability leave all this stress behind.
She was just entering the last batch of numbers into the spreadsheet when the intercom rang. A quick check of the display confirmed her suspicions. Sunny was calling from the extension in the house. She often went there during lunch. Though, come to think of it, Tatum hadn’t seen her boss all morning. Another Beckett mysteriously absent.
Picking up the receiver, she said, “Hi, Sunny.”
“Hey, are you busy?”
“Not too bad. The phone’s quieted down.” It had been ringing off the hook most of the morning.
“Can you spare a few minutes?”
“Absolutely.”
“Meet me in the house.”
That was a strange request. “There’s no one to cover the office.”
“Put the phone on answering machine and lock the door.”
Only someone who knew Sunny well would detect the strain in her voice. “Is something wrong?”
“Just come.”
Her stomach in knots, Tatum did as requested. Her sense of doom increased as she crossed the backyard to the house.
“Hi,” Tatum called, knocking as she entered the kitchen.
“We’re in the living room.”
We? Tatum passed through the connecting archway and had her answer. Lenny sat on the couch alongside Sunny. He stood at Tatum’s approach.
“How you doing?” he asked, his tone kind.
Surprise rendered her speechless. Then, all at once, she knew. He was on the board with Sunny. This had something to do with her teaching job.
“Sit down.” Sunny indicated an empty seat.
Moving in slow motion, Tatum managed to make it to the side chair and sit without falling to pieces.
“A conflict arose in the schedule,” Sunny started. “The board decided to move up the budget meeting to today.”
“You didn’t tell me,” Tatum murmured, annoyed at herself for missing the notices.
“We thought it best to wait.”
Until the vote was taken, she silently finished for them. Because the majority of members didn’t support allocating additional funds to hire more teachers.
“I’m sorry,” Lenny said. “We fought as hard as we could.”
“It’s all right.” Tatum swallowed. “I know you did.”
“There’ll be another budget meeting this spring.” Sunny reached over and gave Tatum’s hand a sympathetic squeeze.
Six months. It felt closer to a lifetime.
“A
lot can happen between now and then,” Lenny said.
“And, of course, you have your job here.”
Her pity job, thanks to the Becketts’ charity.
“Plus,” Lenny added, “I’ll talk to my landlord. See if he’s willing to cut me a deal on the new lease.”
They were being nice. And supportive. Not to acknowledge that would make Tatum appear unappreciative. Right now, at this juncture in her life, she needed the kindness of friends.
“Thank you.” She stood, grabbing the chair arm for support. “You have both done so much for me.”
“We love you, Tatum,” Sunny said.
“If you’ll excuse me, I’d like some time alone.”
Sunny walked her to the kitchen door. “Take the rest of the day off if you want.”
Tatum shook her head. “No. I’d rather work.”
“I understand.”
Sunny didn’t. She probably figured Tatum wanted to keep busy so as not to dwell on the disappointing news. She was wrong.
Tatum’s agenda for the afternoon had changed. Rather than catch up on the post-rodeo paperwork, she was calling Ryder and telling him she’d be going with him to the meeting tomorrow in Globe.
Chapter Eleven
Being early made no difference. The restaurant Lynda Spencer had chosen for their lunch meeting was packed. After a five-minute wait spent sitting on a bench squeezed between a pair of elderly men and a trio of rowdy teenagers, they were led to a table.
“Is the entire population of Globe here today?” Tatum asked, half in jest, half serious.
“The food is supposed to be good.”
She picked up the menu, intending to peruse it. Except, she was distracted. “Maybe not the best place for a meeting. It’s pretty loud.”
“Lynda raved about the barbeque pork.”
Okay. Tatum was fast learning. If the client wanted to meet in a busy, crowded, noisy restaurant, then that was where they met.
Ryder checked his watch. “She won’t be here until twelve-fifteen.”
“Then why the rush?”
He’d insisted they hit the road, urging her to hurry when she wanted to finish updating the weekly calendar.
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