Country Brides

  “All right, all right,” Linda confessed. “I did put a wager on June. The first part of summer is such a lovely time of year for a wedding….”

  “I can’t believe I’m hearing this.” Kate had the sinking suspicion that her father had probably gotten in on the action, too, before he left on his honeymoon.

  “I had no intention of betting,” Linda hurried to explain. “In fact I never would have, but the odds were so good for June. For a five-dollar bet, I could collect as much as five hundred if you were to marry around the middle of the month—say the sixteenth. It’s a Saturday. Weekends are always best for weddings, don’t you think?”

  Kate wasn’t about to answer that. “You know, I suspect this whole thing is illegal. Each and every one of you should thank your lucky stars I don’t call the sheriff.”

  “He’s betting himself—on March. Said his own wedding anniversary is March tenth and he thinks Luke will be able to persuade you early in the spring. According to Fred, the sheriff figures that once Luke gets you to agree, he won’t wait around for a big wedding. He’ll want to marry you before you can change your mind.”

  Kate sent her a furious look. “If you’re telling me this to amuse me, you’ve failed miserably.”

  “I’m sorry, Kate, I really am. The only reason I went into the feed store was so I could assure you the whole betting thing was over, but I can’t and—”

  “Instead you placed a bet of your own.”

  “I feel guilty about that,” Linda admitted, her voice subdued.

  “Why don’t we both forget it and concentrate on the Thanksgiving play?” Instead of upsetting herself with more talk of this wedding lottery, Kate preferred to do something constructive with her time.

  “I might be able to make it up to you, though,” Linda murmured, fussing with the cuffs of her long-sleeved blouse.

  “Whatever it is will have to be good.”

  “It is.” Linda brightened and pulled a slip of paper from her purse. “I got this information from a friend of a friend, so I can’t confirm how accurate it is, but I think it’s pretty much for sure.”

  “What’s for sure?” she asked when Linda handed her the paper. A local phone number was carefully printed on it.

  Linda’s sheepish look departed. “It’s Mrs. Jackson’s number—she’s the manager of the apartment complex on Spruce Street. They may have a vacancy coming up next week. If you’re the first one to apply, you might have a decent chance of getting it.”

  “Oh, Linda, that’s great!”

  “Am I forgiven?”

  Kate laughed. “This makes up for a multitude of sins.”

  “I was counting on that.”

  Kate called five times before she got through. Mrs. Jackson seemed surprised to be hearing from her.

  “I thought you were marrying that Rivers chap,” the elderly woman said. “Can ’t understand why you’d want to rent an apartment when you’re engaged to that man. The whole town says it’s just a matter of time.”

  “Mrs. Jackson,” Kate said loudly, because everyone knew the old woman was hard of hearing, “could I look at the apartment soon?”

  “Won’t be cleaned up for another day or two. I’ll let you know once it’s ready to be shown, but I can’t help feeling it’s a waste of time. Don’t know what’s wrong with you young women these days. In my day, we’d snap up a good man like Luke Rivers so fast it’d make your head spin.”

  “I’d still like to see the apartment,” Kate said.

  “Saturday, I guess. Yes, Saturday. Why don’t you plan to come over then? I’ll need a deposit if you decide to take the place.”

  “Will a check be all right?”

  “Good as gold when it’s got your name on it,” Mrs. Jackson said, chuckling. “Don’t suppose you have any season or month you’re particularly partial to for weddings, would you?”

  “No, I can’t say I do.”

  “Well, me and Ethel Martin think you and that Rivers fellow will tie the knot in April. April seems a mighty nice month for a country wedding.”

  “I’m sure it is,” Kate said, clenching her teeth.

  “Good. Now listen, soon as the word gets out, someone else’ll be wanting that apartment, so if you aren’t here by noon Saturday, I’m going to have to give it to whoever shows up. You understand?”

  “I’ll be there before noon.”

  “See you then.”

  “Goodbye, Mrs. Jackson.”

  “You keep thinking about April, you hear?”

  “Yes, I will,” Kate murmured, rolling her eyes as she replaced the receiver.

  That night, Luke stopped in shortly after Kate had finished dinner, which consisted of a sandwich eaten while she emptied the living-room bookcases. She filled box after box with books, her own and her father’s, as well as complete sets of Dickens, Thackeray and George Eliot that had belonged to her mother. The physical activity gave her time to think. She’d realized the night she had dinner at the Franklins’ that she wasn’t in love with Clay. That same evening, Kate had also realized how much Luke had done for her in the weeks following her broken engagement. It troubled her to acknowledge how unappreciative she’d been of his support.

  At Clay’s wedding, she’d only added to the problem by asking Luke to marry her. He’d been willing to comply, willing to continue taking care of her through these difficult emotional times. In his own way, he did love her; Kate didn’t question that. But he seemed far more concerned with protecting her from the harsh realities of life.

  All the talk about weddings had brought the subject to the forefront of Kate’s mind. She tried to picture what her life would be like if she were to marry Luke. From the night of Clay’s wedding, Luke had been telling her she was in love with him. It came as a shock to realize how right he was. She did love him, a thousand times more than she’d ever dreamed.

  Luke claimed he loved her, too. If that was true, why was she fighting him so hard? For one thing, Luke had delivered his declaration of love in such a matter-of-fact, unromantic way, it was hard to believe he really meant it. If she could be sure that his feelings were rooted in more than sympathy and physical attraction, she’d feel more confident. But Luke kept trying to shield her, as though she were a child. Now that she was moving into a place of her own, she’d be able to analyze her changing emotions more objectively. She’d be completely independent, away from the environment they’d always shared. Once they were apart, once it was clear that she could manage by herself, Luke would be free to pursue a relationship with her as an equal, an adult woman—not a little girl who needed looking after.

  “I see you’re at it again,” he said, standing in the doorway between the kitchen and the living room.

  “Luke—” she slapped her hand over her heart “—you startled me!” Her thoughts had been full of him and then suddenly he was there.

  As he did more and more often of late, Luke was frowning, but Kate wasn’t going to let that destroy her mood. She was thrilled with the prospect of moving into her own apartment and settling into a different kind of life.

  “I have good news. I’m going to look at an apartment on Saturday morning.” She dragged a heavy box of books across the carpet. “So,” she said, huffing, “I’ll probably be out of here sooner than we figured.”

  Luke interrupted her, effortlessly picking up the cardboard box and depositing it on the growing stack at the far side of the room.

  “Thanks,” she murmured, grateful for his help.

  “You shouldn’t be doing this heavy work by yourself.”

  “It’s fine,” she said, rubbing the dust from her hands. “The only trouble I’m having is with these books. We’ve got so many.”

  “Kate, dammit, I wish you’d listen to reason.”

  “I’m being reasonable,” she said, fixing a reassuring smile on her face. “All I’m doing is giving you what’s rightfully yours.”

  Luke’s frown grew darker, and he dragged a hand through his hair. “Listen, I thin
k we may have more of a problem with Fred Garner than I thought.”

  “Yes, I know,” Kate said, already filling the next box. “Linda told me after school that he’s doing a thriving business.”

  Luke knelt on the floor beside her. “You’re not upset?”

  “Would it do any good? I mean, you obviously did your best and that just seemed to encourage the betting. As far as I can see, the only thing that will resolve this issue is time.” She kept her gaze averted and added, “When six months pass and we’re still not married, everyone will accept that nothing’s going on between us.”

  “Nothing?” Luke asked bitterly.

  Hope stirred briefly within her. “I like to think we’ll always be friends.” An absent smile touched her lips. “Now that I’ve decided to distance my emotions from this lottery nonsense, I find it all rather comical. You should do the same.”

  “This amuses you?”

  “The good citizens of Nightingale are amused. Everyone seems to assume that because Clay and Dad both got married and the ranch has been sold, I should swoon into your arms.”

  “Personally, I don’t think that’s such a bad idea.”

  “Oh?” She chuckled and tucked a few more books in the box. Her heart was racing. If Luke was ever really going to declare his love, it would be now. “That wasn’t the message I got the other night. I tried to have a serious talk with you about my evening with Clay and Rorie, and all you could do was glower at me.” She glanced up, shaking her head. “Like you’re doing now.”

  Luke walked away from her. He stood staring out the window, although Kate suspected the view was of little interest to him. “I just wish you’d be sensible for once in your life,” he snapped.

  “I didn’t know I had a habit of not being sensible,” she said conversationally, disheartened by his attitude. She rose and walked over to the larger bookcase, but even standing on her toes, she couldn’t quite reach the trophies stored on the top shelf. Not to be defeated, she rolled the ottoman in front of the empty bookcase and climbed onto the thick cushioned seat. She stretched up and her fingers were about to grasp the first trophy when she heard Luke’s swift intake of breath.

  “Kate!”

  Just as he spoke the ottoman started to roll out from under her. She flailed her arms in a desperate effort to maintain her balance.

  Kate had never seen Luke move faster. His hands closed around her waist in an iron grip. Her cry of alarm caught in her throat as she was slammed against his solid chest.

  “Of all the stupid, idiotic things I’ve ever seen—”

  “I would’ve been perfectly fine if you hadn’t called my name.” Her heart was pounding so hard she could barely breathe.

  Luke’s hold relaxed. “You ’re all right?”

  She nodded.

  He closed his eyes, exhaling a ragged sigh. When he opened them, he assessed her carefully; apparently he concluded that she was unhurt because he gave her an impatient little shake. “Whatever possessed you to climb up on that ottoman in the first place?” he demanded.

  “I couldn’t reach the trophies.”

  “Couldn’t you have asked me to get them for you? Why do you have such a difficult time accepting help from me?”

  “I don’t know,” she admitted softly.

  Still he held her and still Kate let him, trying to resist the comfort she felt in his arms. Her hands were braced against his powerful shoulders, but then she relaxed, unconsciously linking her fingers behind his neck.

  Neither moved for a long moment.

  Slowly Luke ran a provocative finger down the length of her cheek, and Kate’s eyes drifted shut. She felt herself drawn inexorably toward him. Her lips parted and trembled, awaiting his kiss. When she realized what she was doing, she opened her eyes and broke away from him so quickly that she would’ve stumbled had his hands not righted her.

  Embarrassed now, she stepped back. Luke brought down the trophies and handed them to her, but she saw that his eyes had become distant and unreadable.

  “That’s enough packing for tonight,” she murmured, her voice breathless even while she struggled to sound cheerful and bright.

  He nodded slightly, then without another word stalked from the room. Kate didn’t know what possessed her to follow him, certainly the last thing she should have done.

  “Luke?”

  He stopped halfway through the kitchen and turned toward her. His eyes were steely and intense, and just seeing that harsh edge drove her to take a step backward in retreat.

  “You wanted something?” he asked when she didn’t immediately explain.

  “Just to say…” She could barely talk coherently. It occurred to her to ask if he loved her the way a man loves his wife, but she lacked the courage. “I thought maybe, I mean, I wanted to know if there was anything I could do for you before I left the house. Paint the living room…or something?”

  “No.”

  Briefly she toyed with the idea of following him outside. For all his words about wanting her to stay, he couldn’t seem to get away from her fast enough. The thought of not having Luke for her friend anymore felt crippling. Her pride was the problem. Luke had told her repeatedly that she needed him, and she knew now that she did. But not in the way he meant. Not just as a friend who was willing to offer her the protection and peace of marriage, a friend who felt obliged to take care of her.

  “I don’t want you to move from the ranch,” he said.

  Her heart was begging him to give her a reason to stay—the reason she longed to hear. “Luke, please accept that I’m only doing what I think is best for my life.”

  “I know that, but dammit, Kate, why are you being so stubborn? Why do you resist me when all I want is to make things easier for you? We could be married, and you could settle down in the house, and nothing needs to change. Yet you insist on causing all this turmoil in your life.”

  There wasn’t anything Kate could say.

  “You can’t tell me we aren’t physically attracted to each other. The electricity between us is powerful enough to light up Main Street.”

  “I…know.”

  “Say it, Kate. Admit that it felt good when I held you just now.”

  “I…”

  Luke reached for her then, and Kate felt as if she’d lost some strategic battle. When his mouth found hers, her stomach tightened and fluttered wildly. Against her will, her lips parted, and before she understood what was happening she slid her arms tightly around his hard, narrow waist, wanting to hold on to him forever.

  Luke moaned, then suddenly tore his lips from hers. She felt a tremor go through him before he raised his head and gazed tenderly into her face, his eyes dark and gentle.

  “Is it so difficult to say?” he asked.

  Nine

  “This is the second bedroom,” Mrs. Jackson was saying as she led Kate through the vacant rooms. From the moment she’d walked in the door, Kate had known that this apartment would suit her needs perfectly.

  “I can’t understand why you’d be wanting a two-bedroom place, but that’s none of my business,” Mrs. Jackson went on. Her hair was tightly curled in pink plastic rollers. To the best of her ability, Kate couldn’t remember ever seeing the woman’s hair without rollers.

  “What did that Rivers fellow say when you told him you were moving into town?” She didn’t wait for a response, but cackled delightedly. “Frankly, I wasn’t sure you’d show up this morning. My friend Ethel and me talked about it, and we figured Rivers would tie a rope around you and hightail it to Nevada and marry you quick. Offhand, I can’t remember who’s got money on November.”

  “You said to be here before noon,” she murmured, ignoring the other comments.

  “Well, if Luke didn’t stop you, I expected that snowstorm would, the one the weatherman’s been talking about for the last two days.”

  “Do you really think it’s going to snow?” Kate asked anxiously. The sky had been dark all morning, and the temperature seemed to be dropping steadil
y. Normally Kate wouldn’t have chanced driving into town by herself with weather conditions this uncertain, but if she hadn’t come, she might have missed getting the apartment.

  “If I was you, I’d stick around town for a while,” Mrs. Jackson advised. “I’d hate the thought of you getting trapped on the road in a bad storm.”

  “I’m sure I’ll be all right.” She’d driven her father’s four-wheel-drive truck, and even if the storm did materialize, she shouldn’t have any trouble getting home. The Circle L was only twenty minutes away, and how much snow could fall in that time?

  “Would you like me to write you a check now?” Kate asked, eager to be on her way.

  “That’d be fine. There’s still some cleaning to be done, but it’ll be finished before the first of the month. Fact is, you can start moving your things in here next week if you want.”

  “Thanks, I appreciate that.”

  Mrs. Jackson bundled her coat around her thin shoulders as they stepped outside. She glanced at the sky and shook her pink-curlered head. “If you are going home, I suggest you do it quick. I don’t like the look of them clouds.”

  “Then I’d better write that check and head out.”

  No more than five minutes later, Kate was sitting in her father’s truck. The sky was an oyster gray and darkening by the minute. Shivering from the cold, she zipped her jacket all the way up to her neck and drew on a pair of fleece-lined leather gloves.

  Kate started the engine and shifted the gears. The radio was set on her dad’s favorite country station and the music played softly. When she left the outskirts of town, she hit a couple of rough patches in the road and bounced so high her head nearly banged into the roof of the cab. After that she kept her speed down. She drove at a steady pace, her gaze focused on the road ahead, scanning the horizon for any sign of snow.

  When she was about ten miles from the ranch, the storm began. Light, fluffy flakes whirled around the windshield. The morning sky darkened until it resembled dusk and Kate was forced to turn on the headlights.

  A love song came on the radio, one the band at the Red Bull had played that fateful Friday night. The night Luke had lifted her in his arms and carried her off the dance floor. Embarrassed by the memory, she reached for the radio dial, intending to change the station.