“This isn’t the first time you’ve acted like you want to call it off.”

“Call it off?” she repeated in a stark whisper.

Will nodded. “I don’t like it, but I can accept that maybe this just isn’t something you’re willing to do. You can move back to the boardinghouse. We’ll tell everyone we realized it wouldn’t work, after all. But then, if there’s a baby, I want you to promise me that you’ll come back.”

Call it off…

Did she want that?

They’d been “married” for just three days. Not only did Jordyn Leigh have to deal with her guilt over the lies they were telling, but sometimes when she told a lie, it came out seeming way too much like the truth.

The stuff she’d just said to Cece, for instance. About how wonderful Will was, how superhot and protective, how when he kissed her, she melted…

Well, she found it easy to tell those lies because those lies felt so very true.

It didn’t seem possible. She didn’t know how it had happened. But somehow, Will Clifton was beginning to look like her dream man.

***

Montana Mavericks:

What Happened at the Wedding?

A weekend Rust Creek Falls will never forget!

The Maverick’s Accidental Bride

Christine Rimmer

www.millsandboon.co.uk

CHRISTINE RIMMER came to her profession the long way around. She tried everything from acting to teaching to telephone sales. Now she’s finally found work that suits her perfectly. She insists she never had a problem keeping a job—she was merely gaining “life experience” for her future as a novelist. Christine lives with her family in Oregon. Visit her at www.christinerimmer.com.

MILLS & BOON

Before you start reading, why not sign up?

Thank you for downloading this Mills & Boon book. If you want to hear about exclusive discounts, special offers and competitions, sign up to our email newsletter today!

SIGN ME UP!

Or simply visit

signup.millsandboon.co.uk

Mills & Boon emails are completely free to receive and you can unsubscribe at any time via the link in any email we send you.

For MSR,

Always.

Contents

Cover

Introduction

Title Page

About the Author

Dedication

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Extract

Copyright

Chapter One

“You remind me of a girl I used to know,” said a way-too-familiar deep voice in Jordyn Leigh Cates’s ear. “She was just a kid, really. Pretty little thing, always following me around...”

Jordyn whirled on the killer handsome cowboy she’d known all her life. “Will Clifton, you liar. I never, ever followed you around.”

“Yes, you did.”

“Did not.”

“Did so.”

She laughed. “You know we sound like a couple of overgrown brats, right?”

“Speak for yourself.” Will gave her the sexy half smile that had broken more than one girl’s heart back home in Thunder Canyon. “Never could resist teasing you.”

Jordyn sipped from her paper cup of delicious wedding punch. “I heard that you were in town.”

“Craig, Jonathan and Rob, too.” Those were his brothers. “We’re staying out at Maverick Manor.” Formerly known as Bledsoe’s Folly, the giant, long-deserted log mansion southeast of town had been transformed the year before into an upscale hotel with a rustic flair.

She gave him a teasing look from under her lashes. “I also heard a rumor that you bought a place right here in Rust Creek Falls...?”

“As a matter of fact, I did.” There was real pride in his voice, and his gorgeous blue eyes shone bright with satisfaction. “Beautiful spread in the Rust Creek Valley, east of town, not far from the Traub ranch. Escrow closes on Tuesday.”

Jordyn was happy for him. It had always been Will’s dream to have his own ranch. “Congratulations.”

“Thanks.”

They grinned at each other. She thought he looked even hunkier than usual in a white dress shirt, a coffee-colored Western-cut vest and a bolo tie. He’d polished his belt buckle to a proud shine, and his black jeans broke just right over his black dress boots.

He reached out a hand and tugged on a blond curl that trailed loose from her updo. “You’re lookin’ good.”

A warm lick of pleasure stole through her. He was five years her senior, and he’d always treated her like a kid. But right now, the way he gazed at her? She didn’t feel like a kid in the least. She dared to flutter her eyelashes at him. “Thank you, Will.”

He tipped his black Stetson. “It’s only the truth. You look great—not to mention, patriotic.”

“Red, white and blue all the way.” She flicked a glance down at her strapless knee-length chiffon bridesmaid’s dress. It was Old-Glory Blue.

Just a couple of hours ago, Braden Traub, second oldest of the Rust Creek Traub boys, had married angelic blonde Jennifer MacCallum, who had moved to town a year before. They’d decided on an outdoor wedding reception—an Independence Day picnic in Rust Creek Falls Park. Red-and-white-checked oilcloths covered all the picnic tables. Red, white and blue canopies provided shade from the summer sun.

Plus, they’d set up a portable oak dance floor not far from the punch table, where Jordyn and Will stood. The six-piece band wasn’t half bad. Right then they were rockin’ a great Brad Paisley song. Jordyn’s sparkly blue high heels had a tendency to get stuck in the grass when she wasn’t out on the dance floor, but she refused to let that slow her down. She kept her weight on her toes and had no trouble tapping a foot to the music as a certain tall cowboy in a big white hat two-stepped by with a curvy brunette. That cowboy gave Jordyn a wink.

And Jordyn winked right back at him. “Wahoo, cowboy!” She raised her bridesmaid’s bouquet of red roses in a jaunty wave.

And of course, Will just had to demand, “Who’s that?”

She sent him a glance of serene self-possession. “Just a guy I was dancing with a little while ago...” What she didn’t say was that she intended to be dancing with that cowboy again soon. Very soon. Will could get way too big-brotherly, and she didn’t need that. She lifted her paper cup for another sip—and Will snagged it right out of her hand. “Hey!” She brandished her bouquet at him. “Give me back my punch, Clifton. Or I won’t be responsible for what happens next.”

He smirked at her and sniffed the cup. “What’s in this, anyway?”

“Oh, please. It’s just punch.”

“Spiked?”

She puffed out her cheeks with a disgusted breath. “Hardly. Punch, I said. Fruit juice and mixers—and a small amount of sparkling wine—and don’t give me that look. I asked the bride so I know whereof I speak. It’s a public park, Will. No hard liquor allowed.”

Being Will, he just had to argue the point. “I’ve spotted a hip flask or two in the crowd.”

“Well, yeah. But on the down low. The punch is harmless, believe me. And if you’re so worried about a teeny bit of sparkling wine, try the kids’ punch table.” With a flourish, she pointed her bouquet at the table several feet away, where the children and teetotalers were served.

Will was watching her, his expression annoyingly suspicious. “You seem to be having a really good time, Jordyn Leigh—maybe too good a time.”

“There is no such thing as too good a time.” She scowled at him. “And do not call me Jordyn Leigh.”

“Why not? It’s your name.”

“Yeah, but when you say it, I feel like I’m eight years old. Wearing hand-me-down jeans and a wrinkled plaid shirt, with my hair in pigtails and my two front teeth missing.”

Looking right next door to wistful, Will shook his head. “I really liked that little girl.”

“Well, I’m not her. And I haven’t been for seventeen years.” Right then, that weird old guy, Homer Gilmore, hobbled by on the other side of the punch table. He gave Jordyn a great big snaggle-tooth grin. Homer was as sweet as he was strange, so she responded with a merry wave. “I’m all grown-up now,” she reminded Will.

“Yes, you are.” He toasted her with her own cup and then drank the rest, bold as brass.

She could almost get aggravated that he’d commandeered her punch. But no. Back at the church during the wedding, she’d been feeling a tad low to be a bridesmaid and not a bride for the umpteenth time. But it was a beautiful day, not a cloud in the wide Montana sky. And hadn’t she already shared a dance with a handsome cowboy? Who knew what good things might happen next? Her dark mood had vanished. Will was right. She was having a wonderful time. No way was she letting Will Clifton harsh her lovely mellow.

Instead, she grabbed a fresh flag-printed paper cup and poured herself another full one. When he held out the cup that used to be hers, she good-naturedly served him, as well.

They tapped cups and drank.

* * *

For Jordyn, the rest of that fateful afternoon flashed by in soft-focus snapshots.

She and Will hung out. And it was good. Better than good.

Up until that day, he’d always treated her like a youngster he needed to boss around. But from the first wedding-punch toast they’d shared that day, it was different.

Suddenly, they were equals. She had fun with him. A lot of fun. They ate barbecue and wedding cake together. They visited with his brothers, with the bride and groom, and with Jordyn’s Newcomers Club girlfriends, who were also her fellow bridesmaids.

They met a quirky married couple, Elbert and Carmen Lutello. Elbert, small and thin with dark-rimmed glasses, was the county clerk. Carmen, broad-shouldered, commanding and a head taller than her husband, was a district judge. Carmen and Elbert were so cute together, totally dewy-eyed over each other—and the wedding and love and romance in general. Jordyn adored them.

She and Will enjoyed more punch. They danced together. Several dances. Somehow, she never got around to another dance with the cowboy in the white hat. Truth to tell, she forgot all about that guy. It was just her and Will, together in a lovely, misty place. The park, the picnic reception, the music and laughter...all that got pleasantly hazy around the edges, became background to the magic happening between her and Will.

Will kissed her. Right there on the dance floor. Just tipped her chin up with a finger and settled that sexy mouth of his on hers. They swayed to the music and kissed on and on.

Sweet Lord, the man could kiss. He kissed like the prince in a fairy tale, the kind of kiss that could wake a girl up from a hundred years of sleep. It was something of a miracle, the way Will kissed her that day. At last. Just when she’d started to doubt that she would ever be on the receiving end of kisses like his.

And he told her she was beautiful.

Didn’t he?

It seemed he did. But she wasn’t sure...

Not completely, anyway. Because things got hazier and hazier as the afternoon turned to evening.

Once night fell, a few weird things happened. One of the Dalton sisters got thrown in jail for resisting arrest—after dancing in the newly dedicated park fountain.

At some point Jordyn and Will stood hand in hand in the parking lot between Rust Creek Park and Brooks’s Veterinary Clinic. They stared into the lambskin-lined trunk of Elbert Lutello’s pink 1957 convertible Cadillac Eldorado Biarritz. Elbert hauled out a leather briefcase and announced with great solemnity, “You never know when a legal order or some other official form might be needed. I am a public servant, and I like to be prepared...”

And then, in the blink of an eye, Jordyn and Will, still holding hands, were swept magically back to the park with all the party lights twinkling beneath the almost-full moon. People crowded around them, watching. Carmen Lutello stood before them, blessing them with a tender smile.

What happened next?

Jordyn wasn’t sure.

But the party went on. Will gave her more of those beautiful endless kisses; he fed them to her, each one delicious and perfect, filling her up with delight and satisfaction.

Actually, a lot of folks were kissing. You couldn’t walk beneath a tree without having to ease around an embracing couple. And why not? It was only natural for everyone to be feeling happy and affectionate at a wedding. High spirits ruled on this special, joyous, romantic night...

* * *

The next morning, in her bed at Strickland’s Boarding House, Jordyn woke to discover that an army of mean little men with pickaxes had taken up residence in her brain.

For several minutes, she lay very still with her eyes closed, waiting for her stomach to stop lurching and the little men with the axes to knock off attacking the inside of her skull. Finally, breathing slowly and evenly through her nose, she opened her eyes and stared at the ceiling.

The wrong ceiling...

Her pained grimace became a frown.

With great care, she turned her head toward the nightstand at her side. It was rustic, that nightstand, of what appeared to be reclaimed, beautifully worked old wood. It bore no resemblance to the simple pasteboard one she had at the boardinghouse. A clock stood on that nightstand—not her clock.

And wait a minute. How could it possibly be past noon?

Her stomach did a forward roll. She swallowed down a spurt of acid and carefully, torturously, rolled her head the other way.

Dear, sweet Mary and baby Jesus. Will.

She blinked, looked away—and looked back again.

He was still there, still sound asleep beside her, lying on his stomach with his face turned away from her, his hair night black against the white pillow. His strong arms and broad, muscular shoulders were bare. So was his powerful back tapering down to his tight waist. Below that, she couldn’t be sure. The sheet covered the rest of him.

The sight of Will Clifton possibly naked right next to her in the bed that was not her bed was the final straw. Her stomach rebelled.

With a cry of abject wretchedness and total mortification, she threw back the covers and raced for the open door that led to the bathroom.

* * *

The slamming of the bathroom door woke Will.

With a loud “Huh?” he flipped to his back and bolted to a sitting position. “What the...?” He pressed both hands to his aching head and groaned.

But then he heard the painful sounds coming from the bathroom.

“Huh?” he said again. Apparently, he wasn’t alone. There was someone in the bathroom. Someone being sick.

“Ugh.” Still only half-awake, he raked the sleep-scrambled hair off his forehead. His gaze skimmed past the bedside chair—and then homed right back in on it.

His clothes from last night were tossed in a wad across that chair. On top of them, the hem drooping toward the floor, lay a pretty blue dress topped by a woman’s small sparkly purse and a wilted red bouquet. Will shut his eyes as the heaving noises continued in the other room.

But then, well, keeping his eyes shut wouldn’t make the sounds from the bathroom go away. So he opened them again—opened them and let them track lower, to the foot of the chair and the pair of sexy, sparkly, red-soled blue bridesmaid’s shoes that had toppled sideways beneath the filmy hem of the blue dress.

Will knew that dress, those shoes, that bouquet...

Jordyn?

Jordyn Leigh Cates, in the bathroom? Sweet Jordyn Leigh, in his hotel room without her dress on? Little Jordyn Leigh...had spent the night in his bed?

He clapped his hands to his head again and tried to think it through.

Okay, he remembered spending the afternoon and evening with her yesterday. They’d had a great time.

But what had happened later? How did they get here to his hotel room together?

Damned if he could remember.

He threw back the covers and saw he was wearing only boxer briefs. Did that mean...?

Damn it all to hell. He had no idea what it meant.

And poor Jordyn. The sounds coming from the bathroom were not good.

He jumped to his feet and whipped his black jeans out from under her pretty blue dress. He was pulling them on as he hopped to the bathroom door. Zipping up fast, he gave the door a cautious tap. “Jordyn, are you—?”

She let out a low groan, a sound of purest misery. “Leave me alone, Will. Don’t you dare come in here.”

“Let me—”

“No! Stay there. I’ll be out in a minute.”

His head drooped forward until his forehead met the door. Jordyn Leigh? He’d had sex with little Jordyn Leigh? He wanted to beat the crap out of himself. Her younger brother, Brody, probably would beat the crap out of him—and he would deserve every punch. And what about her parents, who were good friends with his parents? Dear God, he should be tied down spread-eagled in the noonday sun for the buzzards to peck to a million pieces. “Jordyn, I’m so sor—”

“Go away, Will!”

He raised his knuckles to knock again—but then just let them drop. “Uh. Just call. If you need me...”

She didn’t bother to answer him that time. The heaving sounds continued.

He stood there, undecided, wanting to help, not knowing how. And that made him feel even more like a low-down dirty dog, because he couldn’t help and he knew it.

And he had no business just standing there, his head against the door, listening to her being sick.

So he dragged his sorry ass back to his side of the tangled bed and sat on the edge of it. He braced his elbows on his spread knees and let his head hang low in shame.

And that was when he spotted the document on the floor.

“Huh?” He picked it up.

Then, for a long time, several minutes at least, he just stared at the damn thing in stunned disbelief.

But it didn’t matter how long he stared, the document didn’t magically become something else. Uh-uh. No matter how long he stared, it was still a marriage license, complete with the embossed seal of the county clerk declaring it a true certified copy.

The county clerk...

Last night there was a guy, wasn’t there? A little guy in black-rimmed glasses. Yeah. Elton or Eldred, something like that. And the little guy was married to that big woman, the judge...

Will blinked hard and shook his head. It didn’t seem possible. He had zero recollection of any actual ceremony. But still. He was reasonably sure the county clerk had been there last night, the county clerk and his wife, the judge.

So it could have happened. It was possible...

More than possible.

Because he held the proof right there in his two hands.

Around about then, he spotted the gleam of gold on the third finger of his left hand. Or maybe that gleam was brass. He couldn’t be sure.

But gold or brass, the ring looked a hell of a lot like a wedding band. And that signature on the marriage license? Definitely his own. His—and Jordyn’s, too.

It wasn’t possible. But it had happened.

Somehow, he and Jordyn Leigh had gotten married last night.

Chapter Two

Will heard a click when Jordyn opened the bathroom door.

He set the marriage license on the nightstand by his side of the bed and slowly rose, turning to face the woman he’d apparently married the night before.

Jordyn Leigh stood in the doorway. Her big blue eyes had dark shadows beneath them. Her peaches-and-cream skin looked slightly green, and her soft mouth trembled.

She’d put on the complimentary terry-cloth robe that had been hanging on the back of the bathroom door. Her hands were stuck in the pockets, and she kept her head pulled in, like a turtle trying to retreat into its shell. Her wheat-gold hair lay smooth and wavy across her shoulders. She must have used his comb before opening the door and facing him at last.

The sight of all that shining hair made him feel worse than ever. It sent random images of her, scenes from their shared past, sparking and flashing through his brain.

He saw her as a toddler with wispy yellow curls, running through the sprinklers in her front yard, wearing a bright orange bathing suit that tended to sag around her little bottom. And then he saw her in pigtails and busted-out jeans at nine or ten, astride one of the Traub horses.

And the night of her prom...

He couldn’t recall why he’d dropped by the Cates’s place that night, but he did remember Jordyn Leigh, her hand on the banister, slowly descending the front hall stairs, wearing a pink satin dress, her hair piled up high, held in place with sparkling rhinestone clips.

She was such a sweet thing. She deserved so much better than this.

He cleared his throat. “Jordyn, I—”

But she whipped a hand free of a pocket and held it up to him, palm out. “I’m getting dressed right now, Will Clifton,” she muttered through hard-clenched teeth. “I’m getting dressed and going back to the boardinghouse. And if you know what’s good for you, you’ll never tell a soul about this.”

Okay, he might be a low-down skunk for...whatever had happened last night, but she ought to know him better than that. “Jordyn, I would never—”

“Hush!” She raised her chin high and smacked the air between them with her palm. “Don’t, okay? Just don’t.” And then she gathered the robe closer at the neck. She did that with her left hand. He saw she wore no ring. But before he had time to consider what that might mean, she hunched into herself again and made a beeline for the chair and that blue bridesmaid’s dress.

He moved fast, skirting the end of the bed, to intercept her before she reached the chair. “Jordyn, wait.”

Folding her arms protectively around herself, she glared up at him. “Out of my way, Will.” Her breath smelled of toothpaste.

He felt another stab of mingled guilt and regret as he pictured her brushing her teeth in the bathroom mirror with her finger and a dab of toothpaste, trying to gather her dignity around her, trying to be strong. He told her gently, “Before you go, we need to talk.”

“Talking with you is the last thing I need.” She tried to dodge around him.

But he caught her by the shoulders. “Hey, come on...”

“Let me go, Will.” Her slim arms felt so delicate, so vulnerable, in his grip.

“Damn it, you’re shaking.”

“I’m fine.”

“You are not.”

“Am, too.” She shook all the harder. He wanted to gather her close, but he feared that putting his arms around her would only freak her out all the more.

They had to discuss this reasonably, with cool heads. But she looked so sick and frantic. He was afraid if he sprung the big news that they somehow got married on her right then, she might just drop to the rug in a dead faint.

Or maybe she already knew they were married. Maybe she remembered what had actually happened...

But they would get to that. First, he needed to settle her down, maybe get some food into her.

She jerked in his grip. “Damn you, Will Clifton. You let me go.”

But he didn’t release her. Instead, he turned her and walked her backward to the bed. “I mean it, Jordyn Leigh. You need to sit down before you fall down.” He gave her a gentle push.

And what do you know? Her knees gave out and she sank to the side of the bed. “Oh, dear Lord...” Her fake bravado deserted her. She let her shoulders slump and buried her head in her hands. “Oh, Will. What’s going on? I don’t remember...I don’t...”

“Shh, settle down,” he soothed. “Come on, put your feet up on the bed. Put your head on the pillow. Just, you know, rest a little, take it easy, okay?” Damned if she didn’t do what he said for once. Obedient as the child she kept insisting she wasn’t, she swung her feet up and stretched out. “Good,” he whispered, and pulled up the covers nice and cozy around her. “Water?”

Blue eyes wide and worried, she bit her lip and nodded. He got a bottle of water from the minifridge. She sat up, and he propped the pillows behind her as she sipped.

“I’m thinking aspirin and room service first,” he suggested. “Then we talk.”

She gulped down more water. “Okay,” she said in a tiny voice. “I could use some aspirin. And you’re right. We should probably talk.”

* * *

When the food came, Will served her in the bed.

Jordyn managed to get some dry toast and tea down, along with the aspirin. He moved their clothing from the chair to the sofa in the sitting area. Then he sat in the chair with his tray on his lap, shoveling in eggs, bacon, potatoes and a muffin, along with several cups of excellent Maverick Manor Blend coffee. By the third cup, he was feeling almost human.

Neither of them said much of anything while they ate. She avoided his gaze as she sipped her tea and nibbled her toast.

“Finished?” he asked finally. At her nod, he took her tray and put it with his outside in the hallway. He returned to the chair.

She smoothed her hair, though it didn’t need it. And then fiddled nervously with the sheet. “I don’t even know where to start, Will. I remember the wedding—”

He blinked. “My God. You do?”

She looked at him like he maybe had a screw loose. “You’re kidding? You actually thought I might have blacked out on the fact that Braden Traub and Jenny MacCallum got married yesterday?”

His racing heart slowed. “Uh. Right. Of course you remember that.”

“What? You don’t?”

“Oh, no. I do.”

“Will. You’re acting strangely.”

Yeah, and why wouldn’t he? It was a damn strange situation, after all. He watched as she plucked at the sheet some more. “Tell me what else you remember.”

She straightened the front of the terry-cloth robe and blew out a slow breath. “I remember the reception in the park, or most of it. I think. I remember what happened in the afternoon. I remember us dancing...” She twisted the sheet. “But the later it got, the more it all just becomes one weird, hazy blur.”

A sinister thought occurred to him, and he went ahead and shared it. “Maybe someone put something in your punch.”

She went straight to denial on that idea. “Oh, no. No. I don’t think so. Why would anyone do a thing like that?”

He regarded her patiently. “Why do you think?”

She wrinkled up her nose at him. “Oh, come on.”

“It happens, Jordyn. We all like to think it doesn’t. But what about that smart-ass cowboy in the white hat, the one who danced by and winked at you when we were first standing there at the punch table together?”

“He wasn’t a smart-ass. He was really nice.”

“Seemed like a smart-ass to me,” Will muttered.

But she shook her head. “No. Uh-uh. I don’t believe he would do a thing like that.” She stared off toward the window that looked out over the hotel grounds.

“Don’t just blow me off,” he insisted. “Think about it. I drank from your cup after you did, remember? So maybe both of us were drugged—Jordyn, are you even listening?”

She met his eyes then, but hers were a thousand miles away. “I don’t believe that guy drugged me. I just don’t. He was a great guy.”

“And you know this, how?”

She glanced away. “Okay, fine. He seemed like a great guy—and he never even had a chance to put anything in my drink. I danced with him once. He was nowhere near me when I served myself the punch.”

“Are you sure?”

“Of course I’m sure. You’d have been more in a position to put something in my drink than anyone.”

He gaped at her in horror. “Jordyn. You really don’t think I would—”

“Of course not. And I don’t think that other guy did, either.” She’d stopped mangling the sheet—and gone to work wringing her hands. “And frankly, I’m more concerned with—” she turned away again and cleared her throat “—the question of whether or not you and I...” And then she looked at him again, her eyes huge and haunted. “Did we have sex, Will?”

Damn. Direct question. He tried to think of a gentle way to tell her that he had no idea if they had or they hadn’t.

But he took too long, and she went on. “I hope you know, because I don’t. I don’t know how we got here, Will. It’s all just vague, cloudy images, flashes of us dancing. Of us laughing together. Of us kissing...” Her too-pale face colored slightly.

He remembered those kisses, too, remembered that she smelled so good and tasted so sweet, that her slim body fit just right in his arms. “I remember kissing you, too.”

“So then tell me. Please. Did we...?”

He was forced to confess, “I’m sorry, Jordyn. But I don’t remember, either.”

She stared at him as though he’d just slapped her across the face. “Oh, fabulous.” More color flooded her soft cheeks—angry color now. “So I’m that forgettable, am I?”

“Jordyn, be fair. You don’t remember, either.” He said it roughly, letting his own frustration show—and then regretted his harsh tone when her eyes welled with tears. “Aw, come on, don’t cry...”

Too late. Fat tears spilled over and trailed down her cheeks. She sniffed. “I...I can’t help it. I’m a virgin.” His mouth dropped open when she said that. She let out a sad little sigh. “Or I was a virgin.” He gaped at her as she swiped furiously at the tears running down her face. “Can you just not look at me like that, please?” She squeezed her eyes shut, but the tears still leaked out. “Oh, I can’t believe I just said that, just told you that...”

He tried to soothe her. “Jordyn, it’s okay...”

“It is not okay, and don’t you say that it is. Everything is very, very not okay.”

He pleaded, “You have to believe me. I can’t see how I would ever take advantage of you that way.” But he couldn’t be sure, damn it. Because he just plain did not remember.

Jordyn cried harder. “Oh, look at me. What a mess. And now I’ve said it. Now you know. I was a virgin—or I am a virgin. That’s what’s so awful. I don’t know if I am, or just was, because I can’t remember what happened.” And with that, she buried her head in her hands again. Her slim shoulders shook with desperate sobs.

Will had no idea what he ought to do to comfort her, so he just sat there and watched her cry. He felt lower than low. Not only had he possibly had sex with little Jordyn Leigh—if he had, she’d also been a virgin.

He didn’t have sex with virgins. He knew better than that.

Still sobbing, Jordyn shoved back the covers, scooted aside and stared at the sheets. “Nothing, no blood,” she said with a moan as she tugged on the hem of the robe. Then she whipped a few tissues from the box by the clock, blew her nose and declared, “I don’t see any blood, and I don’t feel like anything happened.” She tossed the used tissues toward the wastebasket, flipped the covers over her again and folded her arms across her middle.

Silence. Jordyn gazed into space. Will had no idea what she might be thinking.

But he needed to comfort her. He needed to wipe that lost look off her pretty face. So in the interest of injecting a positive note into this train wreck of a situation, he blurted, “Listen, it could be worse. If we did make love last night, at least we were married first.”

She missed the positive angle altogether and screeched, “Married? Have you lost your mind?” And she whipped one of the pillows from behind her and tossed it at his head. He put up both hands and caught it before it hit him in the face—at which point Jordyn screeched again. “Oh, my God! Will! Your finger!”

He peered cautiously around the pillow at her. “Huh?”

“You’ve got a ring on your ring finger, too!”

He just wasn’t following. “Too?”

She muttered something discouraging under her breath, tossed back the covers again and jumped to her feet.

“Jordyn,” he asked warily, “where are you going now?”

She didn’t answer, just headed for the bathroom. A moment later she returned, plunked herself down on the side of the bed and held up a ring like the one he wore, only smaller. “It freaked me out when I saw it on my finger,” she confessed glumly. “So I took it off and stuck it under a stack of extra towels.” She dropped it on the nightstand. It spun for a moment and then settled. Jordyn cut her eyes to him again. “I don’t remember getting married...though maybe, well, I do remember that little man with the black-rimmed glasses. He was the county clerk. Do you remember him?”

“I do. I remember him and his wife, the judge...”

She nodded, her eyes staring blankly into the middle distance again. “I stood beside you, Will. I remember that. I stood beside you under the moon. We were holding hands, and people were all around us, and Her Honor, the judge, was in front of us. And after that...”

“Yeah?”

A long, sad sigh escaped her. “After that, it’s all a blank.”

He couldn’t bear to see her looking so dejected, so he got up and went to her. She didn’t jump away when he sat down beside her, and that gave him the courage to wrap an arm around her. “You have to look on the bright side.”

She made a doleful sound. “There’s a bright side?”

“Yes, there is. Think about it. You saved yourself for marriage—and, well, if we had sex, we have proof that we were married at the time.”

At first, she said nothing, only eased out from under his sheltering arm and faced him. Her expression was not encouraging. Finally, she demanded, “That’s the bright side?”

He knew he’d stepped in it again. He gulped. “Er, it’s not?”

Proudly, she informed him, “You don’t get it, Will. It’s not marriage I was waiting for. It’s love. Or if not love, then at least special.”

He nervously scratched the side of his neck. “Ahem. Special?”

“Yes. Special. That’s what I waited for, something really special with a special, special man. And I have to tell you that having sex with you while unconscious is not the kind of special I was going for—plus, just because we woke up with rings on doesn’t mean we’re really married. Don’t you need a license to be really married?”

He gave her a long look as he wondered if he should even go there. And then he threw caution to the wind and asked, “So if there was a license, you would believe that our marriage was real?”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “Is that a trick question?”

“Stay right there.”

“Where are you going?” she demanded crossly as he got up, turned around and crawled across the mattress. “What are you doing?”

He crawled back, swung his legs to the floor so he was sitting beside her again—and held out the marriage license. “Believe it. It’s real.”

* * *

Jordyn read the document over several times before she could let herself believe what she was seeing.

Again, she remembered the skinny little clerk and his pink Cadillac, that briefcase where he kept those official documents. He could so easily have kept a box of cheap rings in there, too...

Will said, “So you see. I think it’s real. I think we really are married.”

Married. To Will Clifton.

She looked up into his worried eyes—and knew she couldn’t bear another minute, another second of sitting there beside him trying to pin down what, exactly, had happened last night. “Here.” She shoved the license at him. “I’ve had enough.” She jumped to her feet, ran to the sofa in the sitting area and snatched up her dress and shoes from where he’d set them before they ate.

“Jordyn, come on. We need to stay calm. We need to—”

“Stop talking, Will.”

“But—”

“Stop. Please. I can’t take any more. I’ve got to get dressed. I’ve got to get out of here.” And with that, she ran into the bathroom and shut and locked the door.

* * *

“The county courthouse and offices are closed for the three-day weekend.” Will eased his quad cab to the curb in front of Strickland’s Boarding House. “They open again tomorrow. First thing in the morning, we’ll head for Kalispell and straighten this craziness out. Maybe that license isn’t even filed yet. Maybe we can make this whole thing just go away.”

Jordyn stared out the windshield. For the moment, the street was quiet. No kids out playing, no neighbors working in their yards or walking their dogs. If she moved fast, she might get up the steps and in the front door before anyone spotted her going in wearing the same blue dress and high heels she’d been wearing the night before.

Will caught her arm as she leaned on the door handle. “Jordyn. Tomorrow?”

She gulped and nodded. “Yes. Tomorrow morning. Okay.”

He stared in her eyes as though looking for a sign from her—but a sign of what? She had no clue. His cell started ringing, which was great because he let her go.

“Tomorrow,” he said again, the phone already at his ear.

She made her escape, jumping to the sidewalk, shoving the door shut and then turning to sprint along the walk and up the stairs of the ramshackle four-story Victorian. She had her key out and ready when she hit the door. All she wanted was to get in and get up the two sets of stairs to her room on the third floor without having to talk to a soul.

But no.

As she fumbled to stick the key in the lock, the door swung open. Sweet old Melba Strickland, who owned and ran the boardinghouse, stood on the other side wearing one of those floral-patterned dresses she favored and a pair of very sensible shoes. Melba was at least eighty, but spry. She had a warm heart, a willing hand—and a staunch moral code.

Melba believed in the power of love. She also believed that sex should only occur between two people married in the sight of God and man. She’d made it way clear from Jordyn’s first day at the rooming house almost two years ago now that there would be no hanky-panky on the premises. Yes, it was the twenty-first century, and Melba’s old-fashioned ideas didn’t stop her tenants from hooking up, anyway. They just did it discreetly.

Coming home in the middle of the afternoon in last night’s bridesmaid’s dress, looking like something the cat dragged in?

Not exactly discreet.

“Honey, are you all right?” Melba took Jordyn’s hand and pulled her inside. “When you didn’t come down for breakfast, I assumed you just needed a little extra sleep after the big party last night. By eleven or so, though, I began to worry. You’re not the kind to sleep half the day away.” Jordyn saw no judgment in Melba’s eyes—nothing but affection and honest concern.

Again, the image of her and Will in front of Carmen Lutello last night rose up in her mind’s eye. Had Melba been there?

No. If she had, she would have known why Jordyn didn’t come down for breakfast. Plus, it had happened pretty late in the evening, hadn’t it? Melba and her husband, Old Gene, rarely stayed up past ten.

Melba patted her hand. “Darling, what’s wrong? What’s happened? You look so pale.”

“I’m all right,” she baldly lied. “There’s nothing wrong.”

“Have you eaten?” The old woman started herding Jordyn toward the arch to the dining room.

“I had some tea and toast.” Gently, Jordyn eased free of Melba’s grip. “I’m not hungry.”

“You sure, now?”

“Yes. I’ll, um, be down later and get something then.” She headed for the stairs and took them at a near run, never once pausing or glancing back until she’d reached the third-floor landing, where she halted, breathing fast, her stomach roiling, listening for the sound of Melba’s sensible shoes coming up behind her.

But Melba stayed below. With a sigh of relief, Jordyn hurried along the third-floor hall to her room. She’d barely shut the door and sagged against it when her cell started ringing.

“What now?” She dug it out of her clutch and tossed the clutch on the dresser nearby. The display read Will. Just Will. She couldn’t remember having Will’s cell number—and if she had, she’d have programmed in his last name.

Which was now her last name.

“Oh, God.” With an unhappy moan, she answered it. “How did you get my number?”

“I have no idea. I’m guessing we probably exchanged numbers last night.”

“Of course.” They’d exchanged so much last night. Phone numbers. Wedding vows. Possibly bodily fluids. She moaned again.

“Jordyn, are you okay?”

“No, I am not. Where are you, Will?”

“Out in front, in my pickup.”

“Why aren’t you gone yet?”

“Because I got a call from Craig.” Craig was the oldest of Will’s brothers.

“Why does that sound like very bad news?”

“Look. I just think you should know. Craig was there last night, when we got married. So was half the town, apparently.”

Half the town? Lovely. Half the town knew more than she did about what she and Will had done last night. “I know there were people there. I told you that. This isn’t news, Will.”

“Yeah, it kind of is.” He sounded scarily grim.

She kicked off her sparkly shoes and slid down the door till her butt hit the floor. “Just tell me.”

“Craig says everyone’s talking about it, about the ceremony in the park, about our, um, smoking-hot kiss—you know, the one that sealed our vows?”

Her headache had come back. With a vengeance. “So we kissed. Of course we kissed. That’s what you do when you get married. Is that all?”

“Er, no.”

“Then what else?”

“We made the Rust Creek Falls Gazette.”

“What are you talking about, Will? I don’t understand...”

“Apparently, there’s this column called Rust Creek Ramblings written by some mystery gossip columnist. Does that ring a bell?”

Nobody knew who the columnist was, but he or she always had the scoop, was always outing the personal, intimate and romantic business of people in town. A low moan escaped Jordyn. “Oh, no...”

“Yeah. Craig says this morning’s column is all about you and me. All about our surprise wedding. It’s, uh, not all that flattering, Craig says.”

“Not all that flattering. What does that mean?”

“I’m not sure yet. I’m going to go get a copy of the Gazette and find out.”

Jordyn cast a longing glance at her bed with its pretty white eyelet bedspread. All she wanted at that moment was to get in and pull the covers over her head.

“Jordyn, we really need to talk some more. We need to give careful consideration to how we want to handle this. We have to—”

“Will.”

“Yeah?”

“I need some rest.” She was going to take a hot shower, crawl under the covers and not come out for a year.

“All right,” he said resignedly.

“Thank you.”

And then he just had to remind her, “Tomorrow. First thing. We’re going to Kalispell, remember? I’ll pick you up at eight.”

“I remember. I’ll be ready.” She hung up.

About then, it occurred to her that she was expected at work tomorrow. She would need the day off, and the sooner she called in, the better. She autodialed Sara, one of her two bosses at Country Kids Day Care Center.

“This is Sara Johnston.”

“Hi, Sara, it’s Jordyn Leigh.”

“Hey! What a party yesterday, huh? I hear congratulations are in order...”

Jordyn, still on the floor in front of the door, put a soothing hand on her iffy stomach and wished her head would stop hurting. “I, um, yeah. Thank you. It was something, wasn’t it?” she offered lamely.

“I just wish I’d been there. Suzie told me.” Suzie Johnston was Sara’s twin sister and her partner in the day care. “Suzie said it was so romantic, and you and your new husband looked so happy together. He’s from Thunder Canyon, I understand. Just like you.”

“Uh, yeah. I’ve known him since we were kids.”

“He’s one of Cecelia’s brothers, right?” Cecelia Clifton Pritchett used to live at Melba’s boardinghouse, too. So had Cece’s new husband, Nick. Sara said, “His name’s Will, right?”

“That’s right—and Sara, listen, I called because I kind of need to take the day off tomorrow...” Jordyn’s voice trailed off as she realized that she would have to tell Sara something about why she needed the day. She gathered her courage to explain everything.

But Sara believed that Jordyn was a real newlywed. “Take the week, if you need it. Be with your new hubby. Enjoy every minute. Have yourselves a honeymoon, for goodness’ sake.”

“You’re an angel.” And I ought to have the integrity to tell you the truth. But she didn’t. She couldn’t. Not right now. She’d deal with all that later. “I just need tomorrow. I’ll be in Tuesday.”

“You’re sure?”

“Positive.”

“If you change your mind, just call. We can manage if you need the time.”

“Thanks so much.”

“You’re so welcome—and Jordyn Leigh, you be happy, you and your new husband, you hear? It all goes by so fast, believe me.” Sara’s voice held the weight of sadness now. She’d lost her husband in a car accident when their youngest was only a baby. “You need to treasure every moment the good Lord gives you together.”

“Thanks, Sara. I will.” The good Lord was probably up in heaven shaking His head.

Still, Jordyn let Sara believe what she wanted to. Eventually, the moment of truth would come, and Jordyn would face it. At least by then she’d be done with this awful hangover.

Sara said goodbye at last. Jordyn disconnected the call, dragged herself to her feet, grabbed her shower caddy and her robe and headed for the bathroom at the end of the hall.

* * *

Feeling pretty damn bad about everything, Will drove the two blocks to Crawford’s General Store to get a copy of the Rust Creek Falls Gazette. The coin-operated rack by the entrance was empty, so he went inside to ask where else to get a paper.

Mrs. Crawford had a stack of them by the register. She took his money and congratulated him on his marriage. “I hope you and Jordyn Leigh will be very happy together.” She seemed sincere enough.

Will thanked her, stuck the paper under his arm and turned to go. But he just happened to walk down the center aisle on his way out, the one lined with canned goods of every variety.

Two middle-aged ladies stood chatting in that aisle. One was tall and heavyset, the other thin with gray hair pulled back into a tight little bun. They didn’t see him coming, they were so wrapped up in gossiping together.

The tall one clucked her tongue. “It’s a disgrace is what it is. Two virtual strangers, that’s what I heard.” Will hesitated several feet away, dread creeping like a spider down his spine. Neither lady turned to see him standing there. The tall one went on, “They got married in a drunken stupor right there in Rust Creek Park at eleven o’clock last night.”

The thin one said, “I heard that the blushing bride is one of those desperate Gal Rush women. Came to town looking for a husband during reconstruction after the flood.”

“Well, and now she’s caught one.”

“Hah. But not for long, I’ll bet. My guess is the groom’s probably already running for the hills like his hair’s on fire.”

The tall one chortled merrily.

And Will knew he couldn’t let that stand. So what if he and Jordyn were planning to end their unexpected marriage ASAP? Didn’t matter. He wasn’t standing by and having the sweet, spunky girl he’d grown up with disrespected.

“It’s a disgrace to the institution of marriage,” declared the thin one with an angry sniff.

That did it. Will walked right up to them. “Excuse me, ladies.” He tipped his hat. Looking startled, they both turned to stare at him. He said, “It so happens that you are misinformed.”

“Well, I never...” said the tall one.

“Really?” The thin one sneered.

“Yes,” he said. “Really. You see, I’m the groom you were just now discussing.” He offered the tall one his hand. “Will Clifton.” She took it limply then quickly let go. “Pleased to meet you.” He gave her his warmest smile and turned to the skinny one. “Ma’am.” The thin one blinked several times in rapid succession before briefly taking his offered hand.

As soon as she released his fingers, Will swept off his hat and pressed it to his heart. “Have a good look now, ladies.” He tipped his chin down so they had a clear view of every hair on his head. “Not a spark, not an ember, not one whiff of smoke. My hair is not on fire, so you got that all wrong. As a matter of fact, I’m a local now. I’ve bought the old Dodson place east of town. I’m going nowhere. Why would I want to? Rust Creek Falls is my home. And that’s not all. I don’t know where you’ve been getting your information, but someone has been telling you lies. Because my new wife and I did not marry impulsively.”

Well, who was to say about that? Neither he nor Jordyn remembered their exact states of mind at the time they’d said their vows.

He continued, “Jordyn Leigh and I are both from Thunder Canyon. We are by no means strangers to one another. In fact, we’ve known each other since we were children. Our families are very good friends. I’m the happiest man in the world right now, because I love my wife with all my heart, and the day has finally come when she is mine.” Yeah, all right. The love stuff was total crap. But so what?

It worked.

The tall lady sputtered out, “Well, I...erm...” and then couldn’t figure out what to say next.

The thin one looked like she’d swallowed a lemon.

Will put his hat back on. “Real nice to meet you ladies. Have a great day, now.” He took his Gazette out from under his arm, gave them a final wave with it and headed for the door.

Once back in his quad cab, he dropped the paper on the passenger seat and got the hell out of there. A few minutes later, he was pulling into the parking lot at Maverick Manor a few miles down the highway, southeast of town. He didn’t open that paper until he was safe in his room.

The gossip column was a long one. It covered a lot more strange goings-on than what had happened between him and Jordyn. Others had behaved badly last night, and the mystery columnist hadn’t hesitated to lay it all out there in black-and-white, including the waitress who went swimming in the park fountain and ended up in jail for it, and also a poker game at the local watering hole, where one of the Crawford boys won somebody’s ranch.

The part about Will and Jordyn came last. Unlike those two awful ladies in Crawford’s, the column was not cruel. Looked at objectively, he supposed the story of his spur-of-the-moment marriage might even seem romantic. But the fact remained that he hated to have a spotlight shone on the night he could barely remember—and he knew that Jordyn would hate it, too. In the end, what were they but two moonstruck idiots who’d lost their heads and tied the knot?

Frankly, reading it pissed Will off. No, it wasn’t mean-spirited. But come on. Whoever wrote it should at least have had the guts to put their name to it. And didn’t that columnist even wonder what had gotten into everyone last night?

Will did. He still suspected that cowboy in the white hat of spiking their punch. And beyond the issue of who put what in Jordyn’s punch, the column and the encounter with the two ladies in Crawford’s store had him rethinking what to do next.

Because they were married, and everyone seemed to know it. And in a town like Rust Creek Falls, people took their wedding vows seriously. If he and Jordyn didn’t find the right way to deal with this accidental marriage of theirs, she would be shamed before the whole town, and he wouldn’t look like much of a man.

The more he reconsidered their situation, the more certain he became that he and Jordyn needed a better plan than just to race off to Kalispell to see if they could call the whole thing off. Because it was too damn late for that.

Chapter Three

In the morning, when Will pulled up in front of the boardinghouse, Jordyn Leigh was waiting on the front steps wearing faded jeans and a little white T-shirt. She jumped up and ran down the steps to meet him, the morning sun picking up glints of bronze and auburn in her pale gold hair.

“Hey.” She gave him a nod and a wobbly attempt at a smile as she pulled the passenger door shut. A hint of her scent came to him, that pleasing perfume he remembered from Saturday night, like flowers and spring grass and ripe, perfect peaches.

“Mornin’,” he said.

She plunked her bag at her feet, hooked up her seat belt and stared straight ahead.

He put it in gear and off they went. “You sleep okay?”

She sent him a look that said, Are you kidding? And then she went back to her intense study of the street ahead of them.

Once they got to the highway, he tried to get her talking—about harmless things. About the weather and her job at the local day care. But she was having none of it. Her answers consisted of as few words as possible. She volunteered nothing.

He went ahead and asked her if she’d seen the Gazette.

“I saw it,” she answered. That was it. Nothing more.

He kept trying. “I talked to Craig again last night. He had more on the Brad Crawford story—Brad’s the guy who won that ranch in the poker game.” He waited for a nod or a grunt from her to tell him she was listening. Nothing. He soldiered on. “Well, now the ranch belongs to Brad, and the former owner has vanished into thin air. Nobody’s seen him since Saturday night. Some folks are thinking there’s been foul play.”

Jordyn only shrugged and stared out the windshield.

Will gave it up. For the time being, anyway. They rode the rest of the way in silence.

In Kalispell, it only took a few minutes to get to the county justice center. Will parked in the lot, and they went in together. The county clerk’s office was on the third floor. They waited their turn in line and quickly learned that the clerk himself wasn’t in the office right then.

At that news, Jordyn muttered, “Thanks a bunch, Elbert.”

The woman who helped them told them that yes, their license was on file and they were indeed married. As Jordyn stood wide-eyed and silent at his side, Will went ahead with the original plan and asked about the possibility of an annulment.

The woman clucked her tongue as if in sympathy and then patiently explained that it would actually be very difficult for them to get an annulment. “In Montana, an annulment requires proof that there has been no sexual intercourse between the married couple. You can imagine how complicated proving that can be.”

Jordyn made a strangled sound. Will fully expected her to burst into tears, and he braced to deal with that.

But somehow she held it together, and the woman went right on, “What you want is a joint dissolution—joint dissolution meaning that you two file jointly for your divorce. It’s simple and straightforward and also fair.” She gave them the large packet of documents they would need and said that the same documents were also available to print off online.

“Fill them out completely and bring them back,” she said. “When you return all the needed documentation—in person, together—you’ll be given a hearing date a maximum of twenty days out. The hearing is a formality. Bottom line, twenty days from filing jointly, you will be divorced.”

They went back downstairs and out the door. Back in the quad cab, Jordyn remained scarily subdued.

Will tried again to get through to her. “Jordyn. I think we really need to talk some more about all this.”

But she only shook her head. “Just take me back to the boardinghouse, please.”

He drove north on Main and turned right on Center. Two blocks later, he pulled into the parking lot of a cute little café. The tidy building was painted white, and there were cheerful geraniums in cast-iron boxes at each of the wide windows. He switched off the engine and stuck his key in his pocket.

Jordyn shook off her funk long enough to send him a scowl. “What are you doing, Will?”

“I need some breakfast. Did you eat?”

Her eyes flashed with annoyance. “I told you, I want to go back to the boardinghouse.”

He slid his arm along the back of the seat and leaned a little closer to her. “So you didn’t eat.”

She just stared at him, her soft lower lip beginning to quiver.

He wanted to reach out and pull her close and tell her it was going to be all right. But he had a very strong feeling that if he so much as touched her, she would shatter. So he kept his hands to himself and said reasonably, “We need to eat. And we also need to talk.”

She bit her lip. And then at last, she nodded. “Okay,” she said in a voice that only shook a little. “We’ll eat. And you’re right. We should talk.”

* * *

Jordyn followed Will into the cheery little restaurant. She really didn’t want to be there. She felt so awful about everything, and Will was being so wonderful and calm and reasonable and understanding.

She wanted to grab him and hug him tight and tell him how great he was. But if she did, she would only end up blubbering like a big baby, and that would only make it all crappier than ever.

Dear Lord, they were married. They were really, truly married. And now they would have to get divorced. Jordyn didn’t believe in divorce. In her family, marriage was forever.

It was all so wrong.

She felt caught in some awful nightmare, one she couldn’t seem to make herself wake up from.

Will chose a table in the corner. The waitress came and poured them coffee. He ordered steak and eggs, and Jordyn opened her mouth to say she only wanted the coffee. But Will’s beautiful blue eyes were on her, giving her that look, both stern and gentle, so she ordered a pancake sandwich.

They sipped their coffee in silence until the food came. He dug right in. She drizzled syrup on her pancakes and nibbled at the bacon and felt a ray of hope that maybe he’d given up on the idea that their accidental marriage demanded further discussion.

But he hadn’t given up. Once he’d worked his way through half his steak and two of his three eggs, he leaned across the table toward her and said, low-voiced so it stayed just between the two of them, “We need a better plan.”

She set down her half-eaten strip of bacon. “Better, how?”

He ate more steak, sipped his coffee. “I know you’re upset about this, Jordyn, and I don’t want to make it any worse than it already is for you, but have you thought about what to do if it turns out you’re pregnant?”

Her stomach lurched. She pushed her barely touched plate away and confessed in a whisper, “No. I... Oh, my God.” The thought that she might be pregnant hadn’t even occurred to her.

“I’m going to just lay it out there.” He held her gaze, steadily.

She coughed into her hand weakly, trying to clear the sudden lump from her tight throat. “All right.”

“I carry a condom in my wallet. It’s still there.”

“Oh,” she said, because she had no idea what else to say.

One black eyebrow lifted. “You’re not by any chance on the pill?” When she shook her head, he suggested, “So maybe you want to get that Plan B pill, just in case?”

Jordyn shook her head again. “I don’t believe I’m pregnant. And as for that Plan B pill...no. Just no. I’m not going there.”

Now Will wore his most patient expression. “All right. But you have to see that we can’t be sure about anything. It’s possible we had sex Saturday night. And if we did, then it’s possible that you’re pregnant.”

Her cheeks suddenly felt on fire. She pressed her hands against them to cool the flash of heat. “What do you want from me, Will?”

“You really want to know?” He waited for another nod from her before he said, “I think we need to stay married for a while.”

“But I don’t—”

“Wait. Hear me out.”

She pulled her coffee mug closer and wrapped her hands around it, seeking comfort from the warmth of it, from its curving, firm shape. “Go on.”

“Jordyn, if you’re having my baby, there will be no divorce. If there’s a baby, I want your agreement that we’ll find a way to make this marriage work.”

Oh, she did long to argue—that it was all a crazy nightmare, that a baby wasn’t possible.

But no. She needed to snap out of this numb state of denial she’d been dragging around in since she woke up in Will’s bed yesterday. They’d done...whatever they’d done on Saturday night. And if there was a baby, well, she and Will shared the same values. If there was a baby, they would make it work. “Okay, you’re right. I agree. About the baby. I mean, if there is one, we’ll stay married.”

He let out a slow breath. “Good.”

“But I’m sure there’s not.”

“Be sure all you want, Jordyn. It’s still possible, and we have to accept that.”

She longed to make him—to make somebody—understand. “I...well, I do have plans, Will. I know people think I just came to Rust Creek Falls to get myself a man—and maybe I did. A little. Because the truth is I am sort of a hopeless romantic.”

He slathered strawberry jam on a triangle of toast. “There’s nothing the least bit hopeless about you, Jordyn Leigh.”

His rueful words warmed her, deep down, where she needed warmth most right then. “Not hopeless, then.” She dared a smile. He gave her a grin in return. “But I am a romantic. I believe in love and marriage and family and forever. I believe in waiting for that one special man. And I guess that’s why what we did Saturday night—whatever it was—has me wanting to climb in my bed and hide under the covers. What we did flies hard in the face of everything I believe.”

“I know that.” He held her gaze in that unwavering way he had. “But we still have to deal with it the best way we can.”

“I know. I agree. And what I’m trying to say is, yes, I’m a romantic. I want real love and a true marriage. I’m...disappointed that I haven’t found the right guy when all four of my sisters are married and settled down, when everyone else seems to be coupled up and getting on with their lives. I’m disappointed, but I’m not giving up living over it. I haven’t been just sitting around waiting for some guy to show up and give my life meaning. I have plans of my own. Career plans.”

He ate another bite of steak. “Tell me about those plans.”

She sent him a sideways look. “You really want to know?”

“I do, absolutely.”

Did he mean that? He seemed to. She took him at his word. “Okay, then. I’ve been taking classes online, and I’m only a couple of semesters away from a degree in child development. I thought, well, okay. It didn’t work out for me in Rust Creek Falls. I’ve made good friends there and I’ve loved living there. But the true, forever love I hoped to find when I moved to town never showed up. So I decided it was time to try something new, you know? Time to get out in the big world and make my mark.”

“So...?”

“So I’m off to Missoula, to UMT, in the fall. I’m all enrolled and ready to go. I have a little money from Grandpa Cates, and I’ve saved enough to manage it, as long as I find a job once I get there. So I do have a plan. I have a dream, Will, I really do. I want to get my degree and have a meaningful, productive career. I’m leaving Rust Creek Falls at the end of August. And I don’t care what a few small-minded people there say.”

He set down his knife and fork and slowly shook his head. “I don’t believe you. I think you do care. And I care. I don’t accept that you should ever have to feel shamed or embarrassed by what happened Saturday night. And even if you’re leaving, I live in Rust Creek now. I want to be known as a man who honors his commitments.”

“But if it’s not a real commitment—”

“It is a real commitment.” He said it roughly, almost angrily. “We are actually married. No, it’s probably not going to last forever. But it is a commitment that we should both take seriously, that we need to treat with respect and dignity. I’ve said it before. We need a better plan. And I have one, a plan that will keep other people out of our business, a plan that doesn’t necessarily have to interfere with your going to college.”

She gulped. “You do?”

“Yeah. When did you say your fall term starts?”

“Orientation is second-to-last week of August.”

“That should work fine.”

“Uh, it should?”

“We’ll stay married through the summer. You’ll move in with me at my new place.”

That had her sitting up good and straight. “Tell me you didn’t just say that I would move in with you.”

“That is exactly what I said. You’ll move in at the ranch, and if anyone asks about your college plans, you’ll tell them all about how proud and supportive I am of you, how I’ve insisted you have your education, that it’s your lifetime dream, and I intend for you to have your dream.”

She tried to make a joke of it. “Gee, what a guy. I think you’re my hero.”

He didn’t miss a beat. “You’ll say how, even though you’re going to UMT this fall, you’ll be coming home often, because we hate to be apart.”

“I will?”

He nodded. “How long until you know if you’re pregnant?”

“You know, I think we ought to slow down a little here and—”

“How long, Jordyn?”

She knew that mulish look. He would be keeping after her until she answered him. “Oh, fine. A couple of weeks, I guess. I’m, um, pretty regular. Or I can probably take a home test sooner than that.”

“Say a couple of weeks, then, just for a reference point. If you are having a baby, we’ll figure out a way to make the marriage work. If not, we’ll file the papers at the end of July, and we’ll be divorced by the time you leave for Missoula.”

She fiddled with the salt shaker. “I’m just not sure this is such a good idea.”

“Well, I am. Questions?”

She had a powerful urge to bop him upside his thick head. “As a matter of fact, I do have a question.”

“Hit me with it.”

Oh, I wish. “Do you mean for us to share a room?”

He looked vaguely offended. “Jordyn. You know me better than that. I’m trying to help you, not put a move on you.”

“I think I would be better off just to be honest with everyone and deal with the fallout—and move on.”

The man did not miss a beat. “Well, you’re wrong. My way is better for both of us—and where was I? Oh, yeah. Separate rooms. But everywhere except in bed, we would be together, making it work.”

“But it would be a lie, Will. We would be lying to everyone.”

“No, we wouldn’t. Because we really are married. And it’s nobody’s business but ours how we choose to be married. And if it did turn out that you were pregnant, we would already have a life together. Think about that. Think about our innocent child.”

A wild laugh bubbled up inside her, and she couldn’t quite hold it back.

Those black brows drew together. “What’s so funny?”

“It’s just...you, Will. Determined to protect my reputation, so set on doing what you consider the right thing. I mean, we don’t even know if we had sex, yet you’re already talking about protecting the baby.”

He looked a tad insulted. “Exactly. On all counts. What of it?”

“So...I would pay you rent?”

He scowled. “Of course not.”

“But if I’m going to be staying at your place—”

“You mind doing some of the cooking, keeping things tidy, generally helping out around the house?”

“Of course I don’t mind, but I should still pay you—”

He cut her right off again. “You help out where needed. That’s more than enough payment for me. Believe me, there will be plenty of work to do. And the house has three bedrooms. I can only use one myself.”

A minute ago she’d been laughing. She wasn’t laughing now. She held his gaze across the table and silently admitted to herself that she really had been dreading facing everyone alone, being a joke, a laughingstock. “Some people will still gossip,” she warned.

“So what? Let ’em talk. They’ll get bored with it pretty quick when they see that we’re just a nice, happily married couple. They’ll have to find something else to talk about.”

“I just...”

The waitress appeared. She refilled their coffee mugs. “Can I get you two anything else?”

“A check.” Will waited as the woman pulled the bill from her apron and set it on the table. She scooped up his empty plate and moved on. He regarded Jordyn silently for a second or two before prompting, “You just, what?”

She forked her fingers through her hair. “Are you sure you really want to do this?”

“It’s my plan. You bet I’m sure.”

Jordyn marveled at him. She thought back to all those years growing up, when he used to thoroughly annoy her with his overbearing know-it-all big-brother act. She probably should have appreciated him more. If she had to be accidentally married to someone, it helped that she’d chosen a guy who’d always looked out for her, a guy who wanted the best for her, one who intended to stand up for her, stand up with her, until she left Rust Creek Falls behind. “You’re one of the good guys, Will, a real hero. And I mean that sincerely this time.”

“Just say that you’ll do it.” His quiet voice was gruff.

And even though she still had her doubts, the possibility that there might be a baby had tipped the scales for her. “All right, yes. Let’s do it. Let’s go ahead with your plan.”

There was a silence. They stared into each other’s eyes. Finally, he said, “Give me your hand.”

She reached across the table to him.

“Uh-uh. Your left hand.” He dipped into the breast pocket of his Western-style shirt—and came out with the wedding band she’d abandoned on the nightstand in his room the day before.

Tears burned behind her eyes at the sight of it. Suddenly, the moment seemed filled with meaning. Her heart ached—but in a good way, really. “Leave it to you to think of everything.”

His fine mouth quirked. “Your hand, Jordyn Leigh.”

So she held out her hand, and he slipped that ring back on her finger. And then she found she was reaching with her other hand, too. He met her halfway. They held hands across the table.

“Thank you,” she whispered in a voice that only wobbled a little bit.

Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.

Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.

Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.