Elusive Bride



  Elusive Bride

  by

  Nancy Kay Moore

  Copyright © 2016 by Nancy Kay Moore

  Table of Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Prologue

  Ava tugged at the train of her dress as she scooted across the seat and slammed the door! “Drive,” she muttered.

  “Yes, ma’am.” The driver did a mock salute and followed her instructions as he maneuvered the limo out of the church parking lot. He could hear soft sobs coming from the back causing him to make a mental note to drive until she regained her composure and then ask her where she wanted to go. He knew better than to try to talk to a woman in tears, especially one who had just exited a church filled with wedding guests, minus a groom!

  Chapter 1

  A few hours later.....

  She had the face of an angel and the body of a model all encased in snow-white taffeta that spilled like liquid satin around her body. That much white material where fellows came for sinful fun on a Saturday night caused Weston to do a double-take as he strolled into the bar. He slid on the first empty barstool and rubbed his eyes, trying to adjust to the light and then he just stared. He wasn’t the only guy gapping at the lady sitting alone in the corner. She was drinking liquid from a frosty mug.

  The Tic-Toc was usually filled with laughter and loud music but tonight it was noticeably quite as all male eyes were fixed on the lady in the bridal gown. A few of the braver guys had been taking turns approaching her with offers that Weston could only imagine were far from honorable. She was a looker - the kind a fellow would be proud to take home to meet his family. Her hair was the color of butter and the neckline of her dress dipped just low enough to stroke a man’s healthy imagination. Weston’s imagination was in high gear. The thought of what she had on under that gown kicked his libido into overdrive.

  “She’s something else, isn’t she?”

  “Huh?” Weston forced his eyes in the direction of the voice. Sam, bar owner and a genuine good guy, was standing behind the bar with a grin on his face. Sam was dressed in his usual attire: jeans, a white shirt, and a Stetson pushed back on his head. Everyone in town knew he had aspirations of moving down to Nashville and opening a western-type bar, but so far he only dressed the part.

  “Ain’t she something?” He repeated.

  “Yep,” Weston replied, “Do you know her, Sam?”

  “Never laid eyes on her until a couple of hours ago.” Sam shoved a bottle of beer in front of Weston and continued, “No one has seen her around here and with that face and body, no red-blooded male would be likely to forget her.”

  Weston nodded. He took a slow drink of beer and then rolled the bottle back and forth across his forehead in hopes it would cool down his red-hot emotions, “Where is the groom?”

  “No sign of a groom but some of the guys have offered to stand in for him. They have pestered that poor little lady to death, offering her drinks and trying to get her to dance. She’s accepted the drinks but I just told Sally to cut her off. It’s coffee only until we close.”

  Weston grinned. “Sam, you sound more like a protective father than a bar owner, but if my son Toby had been a girl I’m sure I’d feel the same way. Always looking out for your clients.”

  Sam grunted and continued to wipe the counter.

  “I’ve got to be heading home,” Weston said to Sam.

  “Hold on a sec, will you?” Sam asked as he walked around the bar to talk to one of the musicians and Weston took another look at the mystery lady. She looked like a real-life Cinderella about to face the midnight hour. Sophistication oozed from every pore in her body and she looked as out of place in this bar as Weston would be at a presidential ball.

  Sam came back around behind the bar and placed his elbows on the counter and stared at the lady.

  “How’d she get here?” Weston asked.

  “Some guy dressed in a navy-blue uniform dropped her suitcase by the door and said he had to be back in Nashville by ten o’clock. I figured he was the limo driver.”

  “Mmm,” Weston mumbled, “I guess that explains why I didn’t see a limo parked outside.”

  “Yea, he’s long gone. Probably back in Nashville by now,” Sam glanced at his wrist and wipe a towel across sparkling clean bar. “Won’t be long before I’m closing up myself.”

  Weston watched the lady drain the last drop of beer from her mug.

  “Wes, do me a favor. Go see if there is anyone we can call to come pick her up.” When Weston didn’t immediately volunteer, Sam continued, “Or I could ask Jake but by the way he’s been ogling her all evening...I can only imagine what’s on his mind.”

  Weston frowned. Jake Hopkins had a reputation as the town’s #1 womanizer and he never failed to live up to it. Sam knew that and he knew Weston knew it, too. “Okay, okay, you win,” Weston replied as he slowly stood up from the stool.

  All eyes were fixed on Weston as he strolled across the empty dance floor toward the woman in white. A hush fell over the room as Weston slid into the empty seat across from the mystery lady and pushed his cowboy hat back off his forehead. She didn’t look up. His knee raked across her billowy skirt, causing her head to jerk up. She looked sad. Her eyes were red and puffy and she sniffed and dabbed at her nose as she stared at Weston.

  Weston opened his mouth to speak but nothing came out. He drew himself up, ramrod-straight and flashed a smile at her. “Hi there,” he finally managed to speak.

  She nodded. She rested her chin in her hands and gazed at him.

  “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine, I think.” She turned the empty mug up to her lips and drained the last drop from the glass.

  Weston didn’t know much but one thing he did know, she wasn’t fine. “Can I buy you a cup of coffee?”

  “I’d love a cup.”

  Weston motioned toward Sam for two cups of coffee and when he turned back to look at the lady, her head was down on the table, her eyes shut.

  “Ma’am, are you sure your okay?” Weston laid his hand on her bare shoulder startling her.

  “Just a little sleepy. It’s been a long day.” A single tear slipped down her cheek as she brushed it away with a swipe of her hand. “Sorry,” she mumbled, “I must look a mess.”

  “Hey, no apologize needed. I’ve had my share of bad days, probably none to equal yours,” he added as he looked her up and down. Weston was a sucker for weepy women - heck- he was a sucker for women in general. That’s was the reason he’d gotten himself into his current pickle. Those tears caused an ache to stir deep inside his chest. She looked so vulnerable and lost.

  “Today was supposed to be the happiest day of my life....but,” her voice trailed off to little more than a whisper, “but, so far it’s been the worst.”

  Weston shifted in his seat, speechless. He was curious but knew better than to dig too deep into this woman’s life. As soon as he could extract a name of someone he could call he’d report back to Sam and be done with the matter. A voice in his head kept repeating -- don’t get too involved.

  Sam shoved two mugs of coffee in front of Weston and hurried back to his work station. Weston pushed one of the mugs across the table, “Take a sip, it’ll make you feel better,” Weston coached her, “or kill you,” he added. “Sam has the best beer in town, but the worst coffee.”

  “Did I tell you my name?” she asked.

  “No.”

  “It’s Ava. Ava Andrews.” She took a sip of coffee, “This is awful.”

  Weston smiled. “I told you. Sam may have the best beer in town but
to get a good cup of coffee you need to go down to Joe’s Place.”

  Ava managed a weak smile. “I’d be a good one to ask about the beer here. I’ve lost count of how many I’ve had tonight,” she said as she shoved the mug away. “I need another beer.”

  “I don’t think so. Drink more of this,” he said as he pushed the cup back to her.

  She shook her head. “I don’t feel so good. I think I forgot to eat this morning.”

  Weston quickly motioned Sally over and whispered something in her ear. She nodded and walked back to the counter while Weston turned back to his companion. She had her head resting against the back of the booth and her eyes were closed. She was sound asleep. “Ava,” he spoke softly as he gently shook her shoulder, “wake up. You need to put some food in that stomach of yours. It will make you feel better.”

  Suddenly, she jerked her head up and opened her eyes, “Where am I?”

  “At the Tic Toc Bar and Grill in Woodson, Tennessee.”

  “Woodson?” She repeated, more confused and disoriented than before she had Sam’s coffee. “How’d I get here?”

  “Sam told me a limo driver dropped you.”

  “My limo driver?” She questioned. “Oh, him! He left?”

  “Yea, a couple of hours ago according to Sam.” Weston replied.

  “And who are you?” She had suddenly come awake and more clear-headed.

  “I’m Weston Morris, at your service ma’am,” he tipped his hand at the brim of his cowboy hat.

  “Weston. I like that name.” The way she said his name made him feel special. “I’ve never known a Weston before.”

  “Well, we’re even. I’ve never known an Ava before.” Weston chuckled. “Now we’ve gotten the formalities out of the way - who can I call to come get you?”

  “No one!” She blinked away mist that had formed in her eyes. “No one I can think of.”

  Weston didn’t believe that for one minute, “No one?”

  “I have a brother....” she hesitated.

  “And?”

  “He wasn’t even coming to my wedding so I’m pretty sure he wouldn’t come all the way out here. No, there’s no one who cares.” The last few words were followed by a hiccup.

  Weston flinched. “How about’ your fiancé? Wouldn’t he come?”

  “Oh no. I couldn’t face him or his parents ever again.” She hiccupped again as she spoke. “I never plan on going back to Nashville.”

  “Ava that’s emotions talking. Your just upset. I’m sure it wasn’t all that bad.” Weston was beginning to question what could have been so bad to cause Ava to run on her wedding day. He didn’t want to care, but he did. She looked like she needed a prince charming. Someone to rescue her, protect her. That wasn’t him. He glanced over at Sam who shrugged his shoulders and busied himself with dirty dishes. When Weston turned back to Ava the look on her face tugged at his heart. All he had wanted was a night out, a couple of beers and some good country music and look what he’d gotten. This strange woman had managed to tap into a part of him he had tried to bury and all in less than an hour. All he knew about her was her name and she had an x-fiancé in Nashville she’d run out on and she felt no one cared.

  It was time to put the ball back in Sam’s court. Weston felt he had done his best and gotten nowhere. He stood up and stretched out his long legs. Ava looked up, flashing him a weak smile. “You giving up on me, too?” She laid her hand on his arm. Just her soft touch felt too right to him, Weston froze. Had he been alone so long that a half-drunk, weepy woman in a wedding dress could awaken urges in him?

  “Are you giving up on me?” She repeated.

  “No! I just need to talk to Sam.” Weston laid his free hand over hers giving it a quick reassuring pat and smiled.

  “I’m sorry. Really I’ll be fine. I’m not your responsibility.”

  “I’ll be right over at the bar, Ava,” he assured her as he walked away. He slid on the empty stool in front of Sam and shook his head. “No luck.”

  “You mean she doesn’t have a single sole to call?” Sam asked skeptically.

  “Said she didn’t.”

  “Why don’t you take her home with you?”

  “You’re kidding me!” Weston frowned at Sam’s suggestion, “take her home with me. “No way, man!”

  “Just one night. In the light of day I’m sure she will realize she needs to contact someone to come down here and get her. Just one night.”

  Just one night was one too many in Weston’s mind. If his x-wife, Linda, got the notion he was taking in strange women or any woman she would have him back in court pronto! He couldn’t risk losing his visitation rights. “No can do, Sam. Ask someone else.”

  Sam’s eyes scanned the bar, “I don’t trust anyone else, and I know you wouldn’t take advantage of her, Weston, you are just not that kind of guy.”

  “Thanks, I think, but no way are you going to butter me up with that stuff you are spewing,” Weston answered.

  Sam reached for the phone. “I’ll just call down to the police station and see if Boyd has a free cell for the night. Last chance to do a good deed. It’s your place or a cell.” Sam didn’t move, giving Weston time to think.

  “Oh, heck! Okay, you win!” Weston knew he’d want to kick himself in the morning but tonight he really didn’t have a choice. He couldn’t picture that pretty lady waking up in a jail cell or some strange motel room in the morning.

  “I’ll get her stuff.” Sam didn’t wait for Weston to say anything else. He hurried off to the storeroom before he could change his mind. “Won’t be a minute.”

  Only one night, that phrase kept running through his head as he watched Ava sleep and waited for Sam to come back with her stuff. One night - that’s all it would be, one night.

  Chapter 2

  Only one night had been the cause of his first problem with the opposite sex and here he was falling into the same trap again. Not exactly the same since he had no intention of sleeping with this lady - none! He had mistakenly thought he’d found his soul mate when he’d rescued his x-wife, Linda, from a similar situation, but after their speedy courtship and marriage Linda had discovered she was pregnant with Toby. It had gone downhill from there, leaving him with a broken heart and an empty bank account.

  After a lengthy battle over visitation rights he had just begun to get his life back on track. Now here he was about to take another strange woman home with him. The woman in question was dressed in a wedding dress and she wasn’t his bride. He glanced over at Ava as she leaned her head against the truck window, eyes closed. She was beautiful; but Linda had been beautiful, too and where had that gotten him?

  Ava had fallen asleep before Weston could back out of the parking lot. Her day had obviously caught up with her and with all the beers she had consumed she would probably sleep through the night. She must be a trusting soul agreeing to let a stranger take her home.

  The streets were practically deserted this early on a Sunday morning but Weston took his time driving home. The cool air from the open window felt good on his face. He glanced over at Ava again and shook his head. She looked peaceful sleeping in the seat next to him but he reminded himself she spelled trouble.

  He guided his pickup into the empty driveway and parked by the walkway leading into the kitchen. Glancing around he felt relief, his brother, Rayland was still out on the town.

  “Ava,” he gently shook her bare shoulder trying to avoid startling her, “wake up, we’re home.”

  Ava mumbled something ,blinked her eyes and gazed out the window.

  “We’re at my place.” Weston swung open the door and reached behind the seat for her suitcase. He held out his hand to help her get out of the truck

  “Home?” She eyed him skeptically.

  “My house for tonight. We can get a good night’s sleep and talk in the morning.” He steered her toward the back door. “We’ll think of someone to call in the morning, okay?”

  She nodded as she stumbled along the walkway n
ot yet fully awake and obviously feeling the effects of the alcohol she’d consumed.

  The kitchen was dark as Weston walked across the tile floor and switched on the light. Ava’s heels clicked on the floor as she followed. She stopped abruptly and leaned down removing one of her shoes and then leaned against the wall as she tried to remove the other shoe. “Here, let me do that,” Weston said as he bent down on one knee and removed the shoe.

  “I feel like the ugly step-sister,” Ava muttered.

  “What?” Weston looked up, “what sister?”

  “Cinderella - you know her ugly step-sister,” she replied.

  “No way!” Weston stood up as he continued to hold her shoe, “Let’s get you upstairs and into bed.”

  Weston had decided to let Ava use his room and he would use his son’s room. His bedroom was adjacent to the master bathroom in the event her stomach decided to revolt during the night.

  He switched on the bedside lamp and guided her over to the king-sized bed. She flopped back, still fully dressed and rested her head on one of the pillows. Weston leaned over and shook her again and then waited for her to open her eyes, “Ava, I’ll be in the room next door in case you need anything.”

  “Your leaving?”

  “Just next door in Toby’s bedroom. You’ll be fine but if you need me just call.”

  “But...who is going to help me with this dress?” She pointed to the yards of taffeta material spread around her on the bed. “You don’t expect me to sleep in this...?”

  Weston flinched and ran his fingers through his hair. He didn’t know what to expect. Now he was faced with helping her out of the dress without embarrassing the both of them. He looked around as his eyes fell on the suitcase he’d placed by the door. He would have to rummage through her wedding trip stuff and find something suitable for a bride’s wedding night without the groom. He could only imagine the sort of nighties he’d find in that suitcase. He crossed the floor to a large chest-of-drawers and pulled out an oversized t-shirt with ‘Go TITANS’ imprinted on the front. “This will do,” he mumbled under his breath as he turned to face her.

  She was staring at him with red, puffy eyes - beautiful but puffy. She tried to steady herself to stand but lost her balance and fell back on the bed with a sigh. “Well,” she said.