“Behind me somewhere, but they won’t be along for a while. Scratch that. Here they come. They’re moving faster than I expected.”
“Why would they be going slow? They’re not pregnant.”
“No, but Rory’s…getting acquainted with Diablo.” No reason to spread the word that he knew zip about riding. Except an experienced rider would instantly recognize that he wasn’t at home in the saddle. His posture was stiff and his heels were tilted up, not down.
He was holding the reins in a death grip, too, although his hand position was decent. Quinn would have taught him that much by now.
“Got a problem?” Quinn pulled up and Rory followed suit.
“Nothing we can’t deal with,” she called back.
Quinn nodded. “Gotcha.” He touched the brim of his Stetson. “Let’s go, Rory.”
“Wait.” Rory stayed where he was. “There’s somethin’ wrong or they wouldn’t have stopped. We can’t just leave.”
“Yes, we can. They have it under control.”
“But—”
“I’m answering nature’s call, Rory!” Mandy’s voice rang out clearly from behind the bushes.
“Ah.” Rory grinned. “Thanks for tellin’ me, lass. Didn’t realize that kind of thing was done over here, too. We’ll be off, then.” He clucked to his horse and followed Quinn down the trail.
What a gorgeous man. Damaris sighed with pleasure. Was it her imagination or did he look more relaxed as he rode away? And sexier?
“Damaris?”
“Huh?” She glanced around.
“I’ll take the reins and my bouquet, now.”
“Sure.” She transferred both. “We should get moving.”
“Uh-huh.” Mandy smiled. “Daydreaming a little, are we?”
“Some.” She turned Fifty Shades around and started back down the trail. “It’s the brogue. I got hooked on the Outlander books, and then the series came out on TV and—”
“Sam Heughan. I get it. My mom fell for him, too. She loves that series. The other day she asked if Zane and I had considered giving the baby a Scottish name to go with McGavin.”
“That might be cool.”
“It might. But instead of adding names, we need to pare down the two lists we already have.”
“Is Damaris on the list?”
Mandy grinned. “No, I don’t believe it is. Would you like it to be?”
“It has a nice ring to it, and I’d be…” She lost track of what she’d been about to say when the trail curved to provide a glimpse of the meadow. “Good Lord.”
“That’s impressive. Brendan and those Sawyer boys are actually pulling it off.”
“The mounted guests look like an extremely large drill team.”
“Don’t they? I almost expect them to break into columns and do some maneuvers.” Mandy stood in her stirrups. “I see Kendra and Quinn up front.”
“And Rory.” Damaris was tall enough to see without standing. “But where are Ryker and the groomsmen? Shouldn’t they be lined up in front with the minister?”
“Zane was cryptic about their ultimate plan.” Mandy checked her phone. “We still have five minutes before the magic hour. We’d better check in.” She turned Eeyore and rode up a small rise to a nearby grove of trees. A clearing that was mostly shielded from the meadow had been designated as the gathering place for the bridal party.
When they rode in, April was standing in her stirrups peering through a gap in the trees. She glanced over at Damaris and Mandy. “Did you see any sign of Ryker and the rest of the guys?”
Damaris shook her head. “I figured you must know where they are.”
“Not a clue.”
“I’m sure they’re here, somewhere.” Kevin, April’s dad, looked relaxed and serene. That had been his default setting all the years Damaris had known him. Slim and fit, he had the kindest face of anyone she knew.
“Yes, but where? It’s almost time and he’s the one who was so determined that it would start at—” She paused. “Is that thunder? Man, I hope we don’t get rain after all.”
“That’s not thunder.” Damaris turned toward the rumbling sound. “I think your dashing sweetheart and his band of brothers are coming to claim you.”
April gasped. “Oh, my God, you’re right. Look at those crazy guys!”
A line of riders, dark coats flapping and hands clamped to their black Stetsons galloped down a nearby hill with Ryker in the lead. They pulled up short on an imaginary line to the minister’s left. Their horses pawed and snorted as each man took his assigned place.
Damaris consulted her phone and then held it up so everyone could see. “Fourteen-hundred hours! The man’s precise.”
April’s smile was a thing of beauty. “And I love him for it. Guess it’s high time I married that cowboy.”
Chapter Four
Horses, horses, everywhere. And a few wagons parked off to the side. Rory had traded an avalanche of names and faces for more ponies and horse-drawn wagons than he’d ever seen in one place except in the movies.
Quinn’s decision to station himself next to Diablo was smart under the circumstances. If even one of these beasts took a notion to act up, the bonnie show could become a nightmare. Quinn’s steady presence would guarantee Diablo wouldn’t be that horse.
Rory had welcomed Quinn’s instruction during his first horseback ride, which had turned out to be more of a challenge than he’d anticipated. He also welcomed Quinn’s quiet commentary identifying the groomsmen lined up in front of them.
Ryker, the groom, was obvious. Quinn pointed out the other four cousins, distinctively different except that they all had Kendra’s deep blue eyes. Zane was the second oldest, followed by the twins, Bryce and Trevor. They weren’t identical twins, thank God, which would help identify them. Cody was the youngest.
That left the pilots—Badger, Ryker’s best man, and Aaron, the fifth groomsman. Rory studied the faces, each shadowed by a black Stetson. He didn’t have much confidence he’d retain everything Quinn had told him.
Still, it was kind of Quinn to help him out. Quinn and Damaris had a similar calming effect on him. Not identical, though. He had no desire to kiss Quinn.
Damaris was a different story. She had a mouth designed for lipstick adverts. Her lips might taste even better than they looked, but he wouldn’t be finding out. Kissing had helped create the mess he’d left behind in Scotland.
His close call still made him shudder. Weddings were all well and good for others and this lusty ceremony was fine entertainment, but he enjoyed being single. If he knew what was good for him, he’d not be kissing any lasses while he was visiting his American cousins.
One of the twins—Bryce?—dismounted, walked over to the Wild Horse wagon and vaulted to the seat next to the driver. That was Jim. Faith’s dad. Then Bryce leaned over the back of the seat, reached for the guitar one of the women handed him and began strumming a lovely melody. Professional quality playing, too.
The soft murmur of conversation stopped and everyone swiveled in their saddles to face the wide aisle between the rows of mounted guests. A group sigh arose as a man appeared walking beside a Shetland pony dripping in ribbons.
He kept one hand on the bridle and the other on a curly-headed blonde moppet sitting on the pony. She wore a crown of flowers, a frothy pink dress and sparkly shoes. No doubt she was Pax, Leigh’s bairn.
Clutching a basket of rose petals, she sprinkled them carefully on the ground as she warbled along to the tune played by the guitarist. If Rory ever got married, he’d want a wee sprite like Pax leading the procession.
Once Pax and her daddy reached the end of the aisle, the parade of bridesmaids began. Rory envied the relaxed way the ladies rode with reins grasped loosely in one hand and a bouquet held in the other.
The first three down the aisle were the ones he hadn’t sorted yet—Faith, Nicole and Olivia. He thought Faith might be the one with the long braid. She’d woven ribbons into it.
Ah, here came M
andy, the lass who was pregnant with his second cousin, the very same lass who took care of necessary business on the trail without fuss and feathers. He admired her for that.
His breath hitched as Damaris rode in next, a happy smile on her face. She was nicer to look at every time he saw her.
April’s sister followed Damaris. Then Bryce ended the current tune and launched into an enthusiastic wedding march. April appeared, her golden horse led by a man who must be her father.
Rory barely recognized April. Earlier she’d seemed subdued, attractive in an understated way. Not anymore. Her joyful expression transformed her from mildly pleasing to stunningly beautiful. Her luminous gaze focused on her groom and she smiled.
Rory glanced at his formidable cousin. The muscular Air Force vet had ridden in looking fiercely determined. His broad shoulders and military bearing likely intimidated anyone who considered crossing him. But now…the man was awestruck.
On Rory’s left, someone sniffed and he turned toward the sound. Tears dribbled down Aunt Kendra’s cheeks as she kept her attention firmly on her eldest son and his stunned reaction. She couldn’t have wiped away those tears if she’d wanted to. She held tight to Quinn’s hand on one side and her friend Jo’s on the other. Jo’s face was shiny with tears, too.
During the ride to the meadow, Quinn had explained that Jo had been a second mother to Kendra’s sons. She was the person who’d helped fill the gaping hole left when their father had died so young. Mandy had grown up with the McGavin brothers, and when she’d married Zane, the link between the two families had grown even stronger.
Since Quinn had fallen in love with Kendra, it seemed fitting that his brother was now crazy about Jo. Brendan anchored the end of the row and held tight to Jo’s other hand. They were all intent on the ceremony, even though each of them sat on a sizeable animal and only Brendan and Rory had a grip on the reins of their respective horses. The others had looped the reins around the saddle horn.
Rory held his reins and the saddle horn for good measure. The movies made riding look easy but it wasn’t. Judging from the level of expertise exhibited by this crowd, he was the least capable of the bunch, except for the non-riders in the buckboard. Good thing he hadn’t chosen that mode of transportation. He wasn’t used to being dead last in anything. If he intended to stick around Wild Creek Ranch, he had work to do.
But now wasn’t the time to be worrying about it. He’d stumbled upon a major event in the life of these folks—the eldest McGavin pledging his troth to his lady love. The happy couple deserved his respectful attention.
He had a better view of April’s face than Ryker’s, but their words, spoken with conviction, were clear as a church bell. He had no doubt these two were soul mates, like his ma and da.
The action paused for another love song, this one performed by Bryce and one of the bridesmaids, a ginger lass who would look at home in a tartan. Was that Nicole? Maybe. He looked over at Damaris, the keeper of the spreadsheet.
She was completely into this, her gaze intent and her breathing shallow. Was she looking for her soul mate? Some smart bloke who understood those equations on her dressing gown?
Given a few minutes to examine them he could have identified most if not all. His chemistry degree had been of no use while slaving away in the distillery’s warehouse, but he’d been promised that was only a starting point. That promise meant nothing now.
The ceremony continued with rings exchanged and vows given. The unobtrusive photographer managed to be in the exact right place at the perfect time. And then…it was over. Ryker and April leaned toward each other from the back of their respective horses and exchanged a sweet kiss. That was that.
Except not quite. As the kiss ended, Ryker slipped his arm around April’s waist and effortlessly lifted her onto his horse. Her squeak of surprise confirmed they hadn’t planned this in advance. But she laughed and wound her arms around his neck as he settled her across the saddle in front of him.
Wheeling his horse around, he cried out a jubilant YES and galloped down the aisle as the crowd cheered. Rory cheered right along with them. He hadn’t officially met Ryker McGavin, but he’d already learned a lot about his cousin. He was intense and devoted. He had an amazing sense of style. And he was one hell of a rider.
Evidently he’d coordinated with his father-in-law because the guy stepped in immediately to take charge of April’s mount. He moved the golden horse to one side as the bridal party and the groomsmen paired up to head down the aisle.
Rory turned the recessional into his own private guessing game. Badger was with Leigh, April’s sister. Mandy was with Zane. Trevor was with…who? Wait, if the one with the braid was Faith, then the woman with Trevor was Olivia. For sure Damaris was not with a McGavin. She was with that Aaron bloke, the pilot, who rode as well as the rest of the men around here.
Bryce stayed to provide the getaway music. The ginger who might be Nicole stayed behind to sing with him. They behaved as if they were a couple. If only he could see that roster Damaris had drawn up. He just—
“Our turn to go,” Quinn said. “If you think you can handle it, I’d like to ride with Kendra.”
“I can handle it.”
“Kendra and I will go first, then you, then Jo and Brendan. That way, you’ll have experienced riders in front and behind. Diablo is a steady horse. You’ll be fine.”
“Absolutely.” Excellent. While the couple ahead and the one behind enjoyed their own private conversations, he could practice what Quinn had taught him on the way to the ceremony. Heels down, shoulders relaxed, reins held loosely in his left hand, right hand resting on his thigh. So he could reach for his sword, if he had one.
Quinn had told him that was how mounting on the left got started. A soldier’s sword was worn on the left so he could grasp it with his right, assuming he was right-handed. Mounting on the right would have been awkward.
By now he’d been in the saddle long enough to get a wee bit used to the sensation. And to enjoy it. Sitting astride a fine-stepping horse had a certain nobility about it. Diablo was a prancer. He picked up his feet nice and proper. Arched his neck, too.
On the way in Rory had been too intent on the process and Quinn’s instruction to notice the scenery. This time he looked around. Bonnie wildflowers. A rushing creek that sparkled in the sunlight.
Through the trees on the far side something moved. Then a wee fawn, its coat still spotted, came to the bank and leaned down for a drink. Its mother appeared and lowered her head to the water.
One second the fawn’s muzzle was in the water. The next the bank gave way and the fawn tumbled in, thrashing in the water, going down, going under…
Rory turned Diablo in the direction of the creek and dug his heels into the horse’s flanks. Diablo lunged forward and Rory grabbed the saddle horn to keep from flying off. He bounced in the saddle, lost his hat and lost his stirrups. Any minute he expected to hit the dirt.
But he stayed on. Diablo skidded to a stop at the edge of the creek and somehow Rory kept from sailing over the horse’s head. As he slid to the ground, hoof beats and shouting erupted behind him but he didn’t glance back.
All his attention was on the fawn. Its mother had jumped in after it, but the current carried the baby faster than she could swim. Running along the bank, Rory got a few yards ahead of the fawn and leaped in.
The cold water took his breath away as he fought the current. Grasping a thick branch overhanging the water he worked his way toward the middle of the creek and searched for the fawn. There. The current was bringing it straight toward him. The wee animal struggled to keep its nose above water.
With luck, he’d be able to grab it around the neck and hold it until someone came. The creek tried to dislodge him from the branch and he tightened his grip. The rough bark bit into his palm.
“I’ve got a rope, son!” Quinn’s voice. “If you can grab that critter and lift it, I’ll get a rope on it.”
“Good plan! It’s almost here!”
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Then the nose went under. Bloody hell. It couldn’t drown now. Not now.
The nose popped up again about a foot away. Holding the branch with every ounce of strength in his fingers, he stretched his arm out and clutched where the fawn’s neck should be. Yes!
But the little creature was limp. Didn’t weigh much, though, so he hooked his arm under its belly and hoisted it above the churning surface of the water. Quinn’s rope sailed out and dropped over the fawn’s head.
“Tighten it as best you can and we’ll pull the critter out!” Quinn yelled.
“He may be dead already!”
“Maybe not! Just get yourself out.”
He made sure the noose was snug and let go. Quinn and Brendan were knee-deep in the water gently pulling the limp little body to shore.
Going hand-over-hand on the branch, Rory approached the bank. Aunt Kendra and Jo began wading in.
“Don’t get in too far, ladies! The current’s fast!”
“We know!” Kendra drew closer. “Why do you think it’s named Wild Creek?”
“It’s wild, all right.” Breathing hard, he moved slowly along the branch toward shore.
“Take my hand.” Kendra held hers out.
“I might pull you in.”
“You won’t,” Jo said. “I’m holding onto her. Take her hand.”
He got his feet under him before he gripped Kendra’s hand, her very strong hand. He’d never known a lass with that kind of strength. The two ladies hauled him up the slippery bank and onto firm ground.
“Thank you for that.” He gulped in air and looked around, dreading what he’d see. “Where’s the fawn?”
“Over there.” Kendra pointed.
“It’s getting up!”
Jo nodded. “Because Brendan just gave it CPR.”
“He did what?”
“I know that sounds crazy, but when I glanced over there, that’s what he was doing. Guess it worked.”
“I’ll be damned. And there’s the doe, a few yards away. Why didn’t she go after Brendan?”
“I think she understands he was helping her baby. Animals seem to know he means them no harm.”
A Cowboy’s Worth: The McGavin Brothers Page 3