The Cowboy's Stolen Bride

by Cora Seton

  What was the world coming to?

  Maybe he’d drunk too much. He had to admit he was reaching for a beer more often than was good for him these days. He’d had so much paperwork to pull together to prepare for the inspectors he’d thought he’d lose his mind before he was done. He knew the officials coming to check out his ranch would ask questions—lots of them. He’d be on the spot when they showed up, and if he didn’t come through—

  Well, he didn’t know what would happen. The Flying W was hemorrhaging cash these days. They were falling behind on needed repairs. This drought was kicking their butts, and it wasn’t even August yet. He needed something good to happen—soon.

  Liam found himself heading for the bar. He changed direction, toward the doors out of the hall instead. He’d made his appearance. Hung around a little while. He’d even danced. Wasn’t that enough?

  If he’d hoped to slip away, it wasn’t meant to be. He’d only made it halfway across the room when his great-uncle Jed appeared at his shoulder.

  “I can’t believe your sister did this,” he hissed.

  “Maya gets to marry whoever she wants,” Liam pointed out. A month or two ago, he would have agreed with his great-uncle whole-heartedly, but he’d gotten to know Lance a little better recently.

  “More than that, she got no credit for all that work she did to raise money for the history museum. We Turners should get a plaque on the new building.”

  It was more than a plaque Jed wanted, Liam knew. He wanted the new museum to count toward their family’s attempt to win the Founder’s Prize, the biggest opportunity to hit Chance Creek in years. It had been announced last spring that the family who contributed the most to community life this year would win a reward at Halloween. Not just any reward, either: a piece of abandoned property that bordered the Flying W—and Thorn Hill. The Ridley property spanned Pittance Creek, which divided the two families’ ranches. Whoever won it would control the creek—a crucial factor in a drought year like this.

  So far the Coopers had helped secure renovation funds for Chance Creek High School. His own family had taken on a renovation of the Chance Creek library. Lance and Maya had both worked hard to save the history museum next, but instead of either family getting credit for saving it, that honor had gone to Maggie and Bart Lawson, who’d donated a property to house the collection at a very reasonable rent.

  Now all three families were tied for the Founder’s Prize. Liam had no idea what would happen next.

  “It’s up to you,” Jed said. “What are you going to do to salvage this?”

  “I… don’t know.” He had no idea how to win the Founder’s Prize.

  “You’d better figure it out. Now. Don’t let us down this time.”

  This time.

  Liam bit back an angry retort. He knew exactly what Jed meant, which made him all the more furious. For Jed to still hold something against him that had happened in high school was ridiculous.

  Jed leaned closer. “Your father took his team to the finals. Won it all. He would win the Founder’s Prize, too, if he was still alive.

  Liam stifled the urge to throttle Jed. He knew all about his father’s successes on the football field—and his own failures.

  “Whatever.” Liam didn’t need to hear any more. He shouldered past Jed and kept going. Trying to win the Ridley property was all well and good, but he needed to concentrate on something more important: keeping the Flying W afloat. He’d love to take a much longer camping trip and get away from Jed and the others, but he had to be back at the ranch well before Thursday morning in order to prepare for the certification people. Why wasn’t anyone else taking this process seriously?

  Probably because they knew he’d take care of it, Liam thought. Noah pitched in on the ranch—a lot—but as a parole officer he had to spend a lot of time in town, and now that he was married to Olivia, he’d started helping out at Thorn Hill, too. Stella ran the house and worked at the sheriff’s department as a receptionist. Maya ran a farm stand and sold baked goods to add to their bottom line, but now she was planning to return to school part time, help move the local history museum to its new location and set up its new exhibits. He was in charge of the day-to-day business of running the Flying W.

  He pushed out the front door of the community center and gratefully drew in a deep lungful of fresh air. His commitments and problems were beginning to press on his chest like a linebacker’s hands when he’d been tackled in high school. No matter what he did, he couldn’t shake them off.

  Liam set off for his truck and the open freeway, his spirits rising at the thought of a couple of nights alone.

  Time in the hills would do him good.

  “It’s up to you,” Virginia Cooper said decidedly, taking the seat Tory had led her to as if she were a queen deigning to sit on her throne. She wore a prim forest-green skirt, a white blouse and, despite the heat, a green cardigan draped over her shoulders. Her hair was as neat as always, rolled into an old-fashioned style on top of her head. Her shoes were sensible. “What Lance was thinking, letting Bart Lawson take credit for the new history museum, I’ll never know. It was the Coopers who made the reenactment a success.”

  “It was the Lawsons who provided the museum with a permanent home,” Tory pointed out. “There’s no disputing the worth of that property is greater than the amount of money we all raised.”

  “I’ll dispute it all day long if I want to,” her great-aunt said. “You, meanwhile, are going to win us the Founder’s Prize.”

  “I don’t have time for that.”

  “Make time. And get me something to drink.” Virginia rapped the tip of her umbrella on the floor sharply. She’d carried it as long as Tory remembered and wielded it as a weapon when cranky.

  Tory sighed and made her way to the drinks table. She wasn’t invested in the Cooper–Turner feud, and she didn’t care what happened to the Ridley property. She was here to save money while she worked her way through school, and she wouldn’t stay in town a moment longer than she had to.

  Could she last here for three whole years, or would it kill her?

  She would have chosen any other solution if there was another solution to be chosen. She’d put herself through college without a dime from her family—and without even telling them she was doing it. She didn’t want Cooper money or everyone’s opinions and advice. Virginia tended to pooh-pooh the idea of higher education. All she cared about was Thorn Hill. Steel was busy with his own secretive business activities and never explained to anyone what exactly those were. Lance thought she was selfish for not doing her share of work on the ranch. Only Olivia seemed happy for her—happy she was home.

  Tory knew she still had plenty of work to fix her relationship with her sister, though. She’d abandoned Olivia years ago—after their mother had abandoned them both. Tory had left Olivia in Idaho with their aunt Joan the minute she turned seventeen, moved to Seattle and pretended she didn’t have a family at all. It had been so much simpler that way.

  She’d hurt her sister badly. It would take time to heal that rift properly.

  “A Tom Collins, please,” Tory told the bartender.

  “Coming right up.”

  She waited, thinking about Thorn Hill. Every inch of the property reminded her of her childhood. She couldn’t dispute that some of the memories were happy ones. When they were little, she and her siblings had loved their home. She’d longed to go horseback riding every day when she’d lived in Seattle and had missed her old mare, Starlight, grieving bitterly when she heard of her passing.

  Memories of her father were just as sharp—and painful. Before she’d understood what he was, she’d thought the world of Dale. He’d been a pillar of strength. Always there when she needed him. Full of fun, too, with a laugh that boomed out in a crowd, turning heads.

  He’d taught her to ride her first pony and smiled every time she came running to give him a hug.

  Then she’d grown older. Had gone to school and heard the whispers. Some girl
s weren’t allowed to play with her. Others turned away whenever she came near, passing on the rumors about her family to their friends just loud enough so she could hear.

  She’d always remember the day she’d come home and asked her mother, “Does Daddy steal things?”

  Enid’s face had crumpled. “No, he doesn’t. I don’t ever want to hear you talk like that again!” Her mother had disappeared into her bedroom, shut the door and locked it like she always did when she was upset. When Lance heard about the incident, he’d cornered Tory in the barn.

  “You talk about Dad like that again, and you’ll regret it.” When he’d shoved her, she’d tripped over a push broom and landed on the wide-planked floor.

  He’d left her there battling tears.

  That had been her introduction to life as the child of a petty criminal, and she’d soon learned the rules. Keep your mouth shut. If pressed, lie. Hold your head up even when you’re burning with shame. Pretend you don’t care when the other girls shun you.

  “Here you are, miss.” The bartender handed Tory the Tom Collins. She braced herself to return to her great-aunt’s side.

  She’d gotten through all that. The adversity had toughened her, that was all. There had been girls in Chance Creek whose parents didn’t watch them all that sharply, and they’d been more than glad to hang out with Tory. If that meant she’d learned to smoke cigarettes in grade school, shoplifted a lipstick or two before deciding it wasn’t worth it and struck out on her own at seventeen to fend for herself, so what?

  She’d made it this far.

  First she’d worked as a waitress while putting herself through a massage certificate program. Then she’d done two years at a community college before transferring to the University of Washington. She was proud of the way she’d covered almost all her costs—up until her senior year when the piles of homework made it difficult to get enough hours of work in.

  She’d had to take out student loans then, and when she graduated, she took a good hard look at her prospects. One thing was clear: she had to pay off the money she’d borrowed before she took out enough loans to cover three more years. That meant deferring law school for at least twelve months.

  It had been a hard pill to swallow. Harder still was the realization that the most efficient way to get through her law degree was to leave Seattle and return to Montana. After a year she’d qualify for in-state tuition fees. If she lived at home while she went to school, she might be able to earn enough to pay for school outright.

  To graduate debt-free with a law degree seemed worth the hassle, and Tory had decided to go for it, with one very important modification.

  She’d moved back to Montana but not to Chance Creek. She’d spent the last year in a suburb outside Bozeman where it was still possible to rent a cheap room in someone else’s home. She hadn’t told a single person in her family, and they’d never suspected she was living in-state. Her tiny accommodation rented for less than half what she’d paid in Seattle. She’d used the difference to pay down a good portion of her debts. But she hadn’t managed to save enough for the next round of school. Once again, she took stock of the situation and made a change.

  She was willing to take out more loans to cover the cost of tuition and books, but she balked at paying for rent and food on credit. For one thing, it would nearly double the amount of loans she needed to secure. For another, all that debt felt like a noose around her neck.

  The alternative might be worse, though.

  Living in the home of her birth, with all its memories and ghosts, coming face to face with her siblings—and great-aunt—on a daily basis, on top of a commute to classes every day, was daunting.

  It had taken a lot of soul searching before Tory decided she should give it a try. Her brothers and sister had been pleased to hear she was staying—once Lance got over his shock that she’d beat him to a degree. Aunt Virginia had only nodded as if Tory had finally come to her senses.

  She hadn’t talked to her mother about her plans yet and hoped no one else had, either. Hopefully her brothers and sister could keep their mouths shut for a few days. She and Enid could have the conversation over the phone when her mother had flown home and it was too late for her to try to convince Tory to change them.

  “Here.” She handed Virginia her drink. “Excuse me, I need the ladies’ room.”

  “Remember what I said,” Virginia told her. “It’s up to you to win the prize.”

  “Sure. Right.” Tory headed off.

  What she really needed was to get out of here. Other than her one short dance with Liam, the night had been a bust.

  Tory’s step hitched. Dancing with Liam wasn’t anything special. Even if her heart did skip a beat or two every time he touched her, that was only because their families were enemies, not because of anything she felt for the man himself. Liam was compelling; she’d give him that. Easy on the eyes in a Montana cowboy kind of way, if you liked that sort of thing.

  He meant nothing to her, just like Chance Creek meant nothing. She’d leave both behind three years from now and never look back.

  “Tory. Just the person I’ve been looking for.”

  Tory nearly groaned when she turned to find Enid at her shoulder. “Mom. What’s up?”

  “Just wondering what your plans are now. You’ve been in Chance Creek a few weeks, but with the wedding over…” She trailed off meaningfully.

  “I’m… staying a bit longer,” Tory hedged.

  Her mother brightened. “Really? I’m so glad!”

  “Why?” She didn’t mean to answer like that, but Enid was… Enid. Always fishing for something. Always hoping for a reconciliation.

  “Because I’m staying another week, too. It will be such a good opportunity for us to spend some time together. It’s been so long—”

  Tory tuned out the rest of her sentence. It was always like this. Enid trying to make plans. Offering to fly her to New Mexico for a little visit. Trying to make amends.

  It was too late.

  “Mom, I need to use the ladies’ room.” To forestall Enid from following her, she added, “I need a minute alone, okay? This has been a busy day.”

  Enid’s face fell, and guilt twisted Tory’s gut, but she wasn’t the one who’d abandoned her kids. Tory kept going, burst through the double doors into the hall and stepped outside. She didn’t need the bathroom—she needed air. Space to herself.

  In the parking lot it was dark and slightly cooler. Blissfully quiet. There wasn’t a Cooper in sight.

  A truck was rolling toward the exit, though, and it slowed down when it crossed her path. Liam leaned out the window. “You okay?”

  “Liam?” She hadn’t expected to see him again tonight.

  “Tory?” A teasing note in his voice made her smile despite everything.

  “I’m okay. It’s just… this town, you know?”

  “Yeah, I know.” He paused. “Hop in. We can go for a drive. Nothing like the wheels turning beneath you to give you a little perspective.”

  Perspective sounded good. She rounded the truck and got in the passenger side.

  “Let’s go.”

  He’d drive her around the block a couple of times and drop her off, Liam told himself. At most, he’d take her home to Thorn Hill.

  Somehow he found himself heading in an altogether different direction. If Tory noticed, she didn’t say.

  “Everything okay?” he finally ventured when the silence had stretched out to an uncomfortable length. He wasn’t sure what he’d expected when he offered her the ride, but it wasn’t this. Something was bothering her. He wished he knew how to smooth it over.

  “I’m fine,” Tory said quickly. Almost too quickly. Liam snuck a look her way. She was staring into the darkness outside her window.

  She didn’t look okay.

  “It’s my mother,” she said. “It’s always my mother. Unless it’s my father.”

  Liam nearly chuckled, although he didn’t think she would appreciate that. He understood
the sentiment. How could his parents—one living in Ohio and one dead—still have so much effect on his life? Was it like that for Tory with her folks? Enid still lived in New Mexico, if he wasn’t mistaken. Tory’s dad, like his own, had been felled by a heart attack.

  There were those similarities again. Turners and Coopers were supposed to be opposites.

  “I thought Mom would leave in a day or two, but she’s staying all week to spend time with me.” Tory made it sound like a death sentence.

  “Is that so bad?”

  “Hell, yeah!” She got herself under control. “I mean, no, of course not, but yes, it is. Do you know what I mean?”

  “Actually, I do.” He wasn’t too pleased about Mary’s presence at the Flying W, either. Especially not now, with the certification people coming. At least her stepkids were going back to Ohio tonight. They’d been in town only two days, and he’d barely seen them since Mary chose to stay at a motel during their visit, but it was still uncomfortable to have them around. Liam could hardly wrap his head around the fact she’d lived with Justin and Liz all these years when she could barely be bothered to come home to see her own.

  “She wants to reconnect. She thinks we can patch up the relationship she destroyed when I was thirteen. It doesn’t work that way. Nothing she does now can change what she did back then. She abandoned us; you know that, right? When Dad went to jail, Mom freaked out, loaded us in the truck and drove hell for leather to Idaho to Aunt Joan’s—and then left a week later with some guy! Who does that?”

  Liam nodded. He’d heard it all before—in bits and pieces. Having it summed up and confirmed was helpful to understand her situation.

  “My mom’s no peach, either.” Had he actually said that? He’d never discussed his feelings about Mary with anyone, as far as he could remember. Not even Noah.

  Tory looked up. “I guess if anyone understood, it would be you. Your mom ended up with another man, too.”

  “Now she treats his kids better than her own.”

  “They don’t seem too bad. I talked to Justin and Liz for a minute when we met at the buffet table,” she explained.