Wyoming True

by Diana Palmer

  “I’m glad you like it.”

  “You didn’t try on the man’s ring,” Ida said.

  He picked it up and handed it to her, and then extended his left hand. He smiled as she slid it over the knuckle. It was a perfect fit.

  “That’s one for the books,” the elderly man chuckled.

  “A good omen,” Jake said softly, smiling at Ida as he pulled off his ring and took hers, handing both of them back to Bill, to be boxed up, before he pulled out his wallet.

  “A good omen, indeed,” Bill said, smiling.

  * * *

  THEY WENT BACK to the ranch and he led Ida into the living room, to the safe on the wall behind a portrait of the grandmother he’d told her about who was Spanish royalty.

  “She was magnificent,” Ida murmured, gazing at the gentle smile displayed by the proper Spanish lady in the portrait, silver hair piled on her head, dressed in black with a high black lace collar and decked out in rubies.

  “She was,” he replied. He opened the safe and pulled out an elegant jewelry box, wood with inlaid jade. “This was her jewelry box,” he added as he placed it on the coffee table and sat down beside Ida. He opened the lid.

  She caught her breath at what was inside. “These are beautiful,” she said, touching the spiderweb necklace of rubies with a tender hand, the filigree earrings that matched it, the bracelet and, finally, the little ring.

  “Here.” He picked up the ring and let her look at it, pulling out the bridal set they’d chosen and opening that box for comparison.

  The way they matched, the engagement and wedding band, was uncanny.

  “We couldn’t have done better if we’d taken the ring with us,” he mused, smiling as he watched Ida enthuse over the ruby solitaire.

  “I love things with a history,” she said softly. “Things that have stories attached. A ring you buy new isn’t the same.” She looked up into narrow silver eyes and grimaced. “That came out wrong. What I mean is, it isn’t the same until it has a history of its own, after belonging to someone.” She held out her right hand, palm down, indicating a yellow-gold ring with a cat’s-eye setting. “That belonged to my great-grandmother,” she said. “It was the only expensive piece of jewelry she ever owned, and my great-grandfather sold a milk cow and calf to buy it for her.”

  He smiled, understanding. “You appreciate such things a lot more if you know how it feels not to have anything.”

  “Exactly,” she agreed. She turned the little ring over and over in her hands. “I love this,” she said. “I’ll take wonderful care of it.”

  “I know you will,” he said.

  She handed it to him. “Will you...?” She held out her left hand.

  He pursed his lips. “Even if it’s to be a marriage of friends, shouldn’t we do the thing right?” he asked.

  While she was wondering what he meant, he went down on one knee in front of her, and he wasn’t smiling.

  “Ida Merridan, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?” he asked in a soft, deep, tender tone.

  Tears stung her eyes. “Oh, yes,” she replied, and her voice wobbled.

  He took her hand in both of his and slid the ring into place. It was an exact fit. He lifted it to his mouth and brushed it gently with his lips.

  She looked down on his dark hair and knew quite suddenly that she loved him. It was a very bad thing to happen when they’d just promised to have a platonic marriage...

  CHAPTER TEN

  JAKE CHUCKLED AS he got to his feet, before Ida could embarrass herself by saying something sentimental.

  “We’ll put an announcement in the papers,” he said as he dropped back down beside her. “Do you want a church wedding?” he asked.

  She hesitated. She’d been married twice and she had an ex-husband still living. She bit her lower lip and looked hunted.

  He scowled. “What is it?”

  She looked at him uneasily. “Do you know a minister who’ll agree to marry a divorced woman with my reputation?” She fought tears. “I’ve made so many stupid mistakes in my life. That thing about being a wild woman with men was the worst, the absolute worst!”

  He caught her hand and held it in his. “Listen to me,” he said gently. “Nobody’s perfect. Well, except me,” he drawled, and his silver eyes sparkled.

  “And not a bit conceited,” she agreed, rising to the bait.

  He chuckled. “I know an unorthodox minister who’ll marry us,” he said. “His church isn’t exactly conventional, but it’s a church.” He cocked his head. “Do you want to wear white satin?” he teased.

  “I was married in a suit the first time and a purple silk dress the second time.” She sighed. “I’m too old to wear white satin.” She met his eyes. “How about a nice white wool suit with a big fancy hat with a veil?” she asked, and she smiled.

  “I’m intrigued. And it sounds very nice.”

  “Can you fly me to Manhattan before we marry? I’d like to shop for it up there at one of the couture houses,” she added.

  “I have an account...”

  She held up a hand. “Thank you, but I could endow a small country with what I’ve got in the bank. I’ll pay for my own wedding gown.” Her blue eyes twinkled. “You can provide the flowers, and I’ll expect bushels of them, I’m warning you. I love flowers.”

  He chuckled. “Okay. We can tell everybody that you’re marrying me for my money.”

  “We can tell everybody that you’re marrying me for mine,” she countered.

  They both laughed. It was a wonderful start. They got along together, they enjoyed each other’s company.

  Ida was already crazy about him and worried about how she’d hide it, but she’d worry about that later. Right now her only ambition in life was to marry Jake McGuire and do everything in her power to make him happy.

  There was only one real worry. “What if Bailey finds out?” she asked. “He might try to do something...”

  “Let me worry about your skanky ex-husband,” he said firmly.

  Her eyes widened with laughter. “Skanky?”

  “I heard that word on a talk show and appropriated it,” he informed her. “I plan to use it liberally for the rest of my life, despite the fear of copyright infringement.”

  She laughed. “Jake, you’re so much fun to be with,” she said.

  He smiled. “I like hearing you laugh,” he said. “I’m amazed that you still can, with all you’ve gone through.”

  “Takes fewer muscles to smile than to frown,” she pointed out.

  “Yes, it does. Do you want a formal wedding, with a best man and a maid of honor?”

  She grimaced. “Could we get married with just us and a couple of witnesses?” she asked. “I don’t really have any friends, except the Menzers and Cindy, and Cindy can’t afford the sort of dress she’d need as a bridesmaid. I’d buy her one, but she’d never let me. She’s too proud. I’d have loved having her as my matron of honor.”

  Her thoughtfulness surprised and touched him. He wouldn’t have even considered that a friend might not have enough money to buy a fancy piece of clothing to wear to a wedding.

  “Just us sounds nice,” he said. “I’d like that, too.”

  She nodded, her eyes full of dreams that she was careful to hide from him. “Just us.” She hesitated. “Jake, do you like cats?”

  “Of course I like cats! What did you think, that we’d leave Butler at your house? Which reminds me, I have to pick up Wolf from the vet. He’s had a minor intestinal problem, so they kept him while he was being treated.”

  “I remember. We saw him at the vet’s when we visited Butler. He’s a beautiful dog.” She sighed. “I hope he likes cats, and not as an entrée.”

  “We had a cat here, until just recently, when one of Maude’s grandkids begged to replace his cat, which had just died. Wolf slept with it, in
my bedroom,” he added with a chuckle. “He moped around for a week after the cat left. He’ll love Butler.”

  She relaxed. “That’s great.” It was a relief.

  “No more worrying,” he said. “You’ll get wrinkles.”

  She laughed. “I’m bound to get more of those as we go along. I’m not keen on face-lifts.”

  “Neither am I,” he replied with a smile. “We earn our years.” He studied her jet-black hair. There were a couple of barely noticeable gray hairs. “And don’t even think about coloring your hair. I think silver is very pretty.”

  She smiled. “You’ll look very elegant with silver hair,” she said softly.

  He laughed. “Not for a few years yet, though. Okay. What about a small reception? A caterer?”

  She just stared at him, poleaxed. She hadn’t considered those things.

  He drew in a breath. “Luckily for you, I’m a great organizer. I’ll get right on it.”

  “Should we get engraved invitations or just email people?”

  He pursed his lips and smiled. “How about engraved ones? I have a friend who runs a print shop. He owes me a favor. I’ll phone him. I need your full name and your parents’ names.”

  Her face tautened.

  He moved closer, touching her cheek with a tender hand. “Ida, I’ll have both my parents’ names in the wedding announcement. You have to have yours, as well. Even though we’re both orphans.”

  She relaxed a little. “It still hurts,” she confessed. “Especially Mama, because of the way she died.”

  “I miss my mother, too. I’d like to think they’ll be floating around somewhere, watching,” he added with a tender smile.

  She smiled back. “That’s a nice way to look at it.”

  He removed his fingers. Touching her was disconcerting. It was a bad time to remember how her mouth felt under his. He hadn’t kissed her often, but the memory was unusually vivid.

  “Your first marriage was from necessity. The second was a dead loss. So wear white, would you?”

  “People would be outraged...” she began worriedly.

  “The people who matter won’t,” he returned firmly. “You’re wearing it for me. Not for the masses. All right?”

  She felt lighter all of a sudden, as if several problems had just been neatly solved. “Well, if you’re sure?” she said.

  “I’m sure.” And he smiled.

  * * *

  SHE WORRIED ABOUT MINA. It had been obvious that Jake wasn’t quite over his feelings for her, and that he was still wounded from her rejection. You couldn’t make people love you, that was true. But it was equally hard to get over unrequited love. It had surprised her a little that Jake hadn’t been in love before. He’d confessed to a couple of infatuations with women who were totally out of his life experience, but they’d only been infatuations, soon forgotten. Mina had broken his heart.

  It wasn’t as if she was jealous, Ida assured herself. Then just as quickly, she admitted that she was, but only in the silence of her mind. She had no right to be jealous, was the thing. She and Jake were getting married because they had a lot in common and they were both alone. Looking back at her easy acceptance, she wondered if she was doing the right thing. She was only a bandage over a festering wound. He might never get over Mina. Worse, he might fall in love again, with a woman who loved him back, and there would be Ida, right in the way. It would be a gamble, and she was a woman who rarely took chances. Well, except for that time with the slot machines where she’d lost a rather small amount of money. It had taught her that gambling could be a slippery slope.

  Jake had gone off to see to the arrangements, and Ida sat in the living room with the workbasket she’d brought from home. She loved to knit. It kept her hands and her mind busy. She was doing a yellow blanket with the smallest gauge of soft yarn, made especially for babies. She made these to give away. She didn’t have friends anymore, but she knew people locally who were expecting. Yellow was a safe color, when someone didn’t know the sex of their unborn child. And she loved yellow anyway.

  Her hands were busy with the wooden needles when Maude stuck her head around the door. “Do you want lunch, Mrs. Merridan?” she asked. “I’ve got homemade soup and crackling bread.”

  “Crackling bread?” Ida exclaimed.

  The housekeeper’s face flushed as if she was worried about making a bad choice of foods to cook.

  “I love crackling bread!” Ida exclaimed quickly and was glad to see Maude’s face relax. “My father used to make it for us,” she added softly. “It was one of the few things he could cook, but he made it wonderfully well!”

  Maude smiled. “Then come on to the kitchen and have some. Unless you’d rather eat in the dining room?” she asked.

  “Oh, no,” Ida said at once. “The dining room is a bit too formal for me. I always eat in the kitchen at home. We used to when my parents were alive,” she added with faint sadness as they went into the kitchen.

  Ida put the food on the table. “What would you like to drink?” she asked.

  “Oh, I’ll get the coffee. Go ahead and sit,” Maude said.

  Ida was hungry and hadn’t realized it. She tasted the soup and the corn bread. “These are delicious! Even my dad couldn’t have made the crackling bread any better.”

  Maude put a mug of black coffee in front of her along with cream and sugar in silver containers. “I’m glad you like it.” She paused. “How long ago did you lose your parents, if you don’t mind me asking?”

  “I don’t mind,” Ida said. “Please, sit down. I know you’ve been on your feet all morning. Wouldn’t you like a cup of coffee, too?”

  Maude smiled. “Yes, I would.”

  She got herself a cup and sat down.

  “My father died of a heart attack when he was still young,” Ida said between bites of the delicious meal. “He was in the doctor’s office at the time, and nothing they did could save him. My mother was devastated. Me, too. She stayed alive just for me, but she missed my father every day of her life. When I was eighteen, she went on a cruise. I was working at a business in Denver that my first husband owned.” Her face tautened, just a little. “Somehow, Mama fell overboard. They never found her.”

  “That would be far worse than if they had,” Maude said quietly. “It must have been hard on you.”

  “I was very sheltered,” she replied. “I’d never even dated much. None of the men I knew ever thought about marriage and children. They just wanted to have a good time. I can’t abide superficial people,” she added quietly. She smiled wistfully. “My first husband was all sympathy and comfort. He married me. I thought it was odd that he didn’t, well, want to sleep with me. He said that we would be soul mates, but not physically.”

  “Goodness,” Maude exclaimed.

  “I’d never indulged, you see, so I didn’t really have those feverish urges people talk about.” She sighed. “He was a good and kind man. He spoiled me, took care of me, pampered me. I adored him. We had five wonderful years together, just as friends. Then one day he left a note for me, went to the top floor of his building, onto the roof and jumped off.” She swallowed, hard. It was a painful memory. “His lover, a younger man with an attitude problem, came to the funeral and pretended to grieve. I had him shown to the door. Then he sued for damages, saying my husband had mistreated him.” Her dark blue eyes were spitting fire. “You know, corporate attorneys are very good at civil law. They pinned him to the wall and stuck him with court costs after he lost the lawsuit. He went on to a new lover, who, sadly, killed him a few months later.” She looked at Maude. “I didn’t grieve. Not at all. My poor husband!”

  Maude was thunderstruck. She’d never known anyone who wouldn’t have been raging about a man keeping that sort of secret from her. And here was Ida, with her scandalous reputation, furious because her husband had been hurt.

  “You didn�
��t suspect?” Maude asked gently.

  Ida shook her head. She finished her meal and sat back to drink the strong coffee. “I heard other women talk about their husbands, of course, but I had no practical experience.” Her eyes twinkled, just a little. “From some of the things I heard, maybe it wasn’t so bad that my husband wasn’t interested in me that way. Of course, then I was widowed, and I found Bailey Trent.” She sipped coffee, her face showing the anguish of saying that name aloud.

  “A bad husband?”

  Ida’s eyes, haunted, met the housekeeper’s. “You never know what a man really is until you’re behind a closed door with him.” She swallowed, hard. “Bailey was a sadist, and I didn’t know. He swept me off my feet. I’d had five years of no physical contact, and he kissed me coming and going. He was a little rough, but I put that down to his hunger for me. Was I wrong!” She shivered. “He was brutal. I was so afraid of him. He was insanely jealous. I smiled at another man and he turned around and threw me off the first level of a parking garage. If I hadn’t landed in grass, I guess I’d be dead or brain-damaged. I hit in such a way that only my back and hip and upper thigh were impacted. It still took surgery and a long time in physical therapy to get me back on my feet.” She laughed. “I limp when the weather gets stormy. They did a partial hip replacement, and I’ve got a metal rod and pins down my right leg where the femur was broken. At least it doesn’t show. Not that I’m vain about it,” she added. “I’ve had a bait of men. I never want anything physical, ever again.”

  “I can’t blame you for feeling that way,” Maude said. “But didn’t you want children?”

  “I would have loved having them with my first husband.” She laughed. “He was overweight and balding and a little slow. I loved him with all my heart. His children would have been like him, gentle and sweet and kind...” She fought tears and brought the coffee cup to her mouth. “I still miss him, after all this time.”

  “It just goes to show that looks don’t matter much, if you love someone,” Maude said gently. “The boss said your ex-husband abused your animals.”