“I dare you to marry me!

I bet you won’t do it.”

Hardheaded cowboy Knox Crawford has his mind made up—he’s got to get married...and fast. Knox’s faux fiancée? Genevieve Lawrence, a gorgeous, sassy horsewoman who is not afraid of anything...except commitment. As they fake marry to trick Knox’s matchmaking dad, the two stubborn singles discover the only thing harder than pretending to be a couple is realizing they might be falling in love for real!

JOANNA SIMS is proud to pen contemporary romance for Mills & Boon. Joanna’s series, The Brands of Montana, features hardworking characters with hometown values. You are cordially invited to join the Brands of Montana as they wrangle their own happily-ever-afters. And, as always, Joanna welcomes you to visit her at her website, joannasimsromance.com

Also by Joanna Sims

A Match Made in Montana

High Country Christmas

High Country Baby

Meet Me at the Chapel

Thankful for You

A Wedding to Remember

A Bride for Liam Brand

High Country Cowgirl

The One He’s Been Looking For

The Sergeant’s Christmas Mission

Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk

The Maverick’s Wedding Wager

Joanna Sims

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ISBN: 978-1-474-09150-3

THE MAVERICK’S WEDDING WAGER

© 2019 Harlequin Books S.A.

Published in Great Britain 2019

by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollins Publishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF

All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.

By payment of the required fees, you are granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right and licence to download and install this e-book on your personal computer, tablet computer, smart phone or other electronic reading device only (each a “Licensed Device”) and to access, display and read the text of this e-book on-screen on your Licensed Device. Except to the extent any of these acts shall be permitted pursuant to any mandatory provision of applicable law but no further, no part of this e-book or its text or images may be reproduced, transmitted, distributed, translated, converted or adapted for use on another file format, communicated to the public, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher.

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Version: 2020-03-02

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Dedicated to Sandie Weiss

I wanted you to know how much I love you,

so I dedicated this book to you!

I love you, Aunt Sandie, and I always will.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

About the Author

Booklist

Title Page

Copyright

Note to Readers

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

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Extract

About the Publisher

Chapter One

“You are late.”

“I know,” horse farrier Genevieve Lawrence said to her phone as she stepped on the gas. She hated to be late and yet, here she was, running behind again on the way to her next client. Spotting one of her favorite off-road shortcuts ahead, Genevieve downshifted her four-wheel-drive Chevy Colorado, jerked the steering wheel to take a hard right and then floored it once the hind end of her truck stopped fishtailing. Laughing as she sped over a large bump in the road that sent her truck airborne for a split second, Genevieve knew she was taking a risk using this dirt road. It had been a rainy late August in Montana and there would be mud hole mine traps everywhere. But she’d been off-road racing since she was a teenager and knew this road like the back of her hand. If she didn’t get stuck, she’d shave a good fifteen minutes off her time.

“What’s life without a little risk?” Genevieve gave a rebel yell, fighting the steering wheel to keep it straight when the back tires hit a slick pocket of mud that sent her sliding sideways.

“Now you are really late,” her phone gave her another verbal reminder.

“Nobody likes a know-it-all, Google!” Genevieve snapped as she went careening through a large puddle of standing water, splashing brown water onto her windshield and temporarily blinding her view.

Putting her wipers on high so she could see, she saw the end of the dirt road up ahead and, instead of slowing down, she floored it again. In Genevieve’s mind, this was the best part. This was the most dangerous, and therefore, the most exhilarating, part of this shortcut. If she got up enough speed and momentum, she would really catch some air off a large mound of dirt right before she had to make a sharp left onto the main road.

“Woo-hoo!” she shouted, loving that wonderful sinking feeling in her stomach that she always got when all four wheels left the road.

A loud honk of a horn brought her smashing back into reality and made her tighten her grip on the steering wheel. She had successfully navigated the sharp left turn onto the highway, but miscalculated how close the next vehicle was to her entry point and she ended up cutting them off—just a little.

“Sorry!” She waved her hand out of the window with another laugh. She had cut that one a bit too close for comfort. But in her mind, no harm, no foul. This was what living was all about! Taking risks for big payoffs.

By the time she pulled into the driveway to the Crawford’s cattle spread, the Ambling A, her heart was still pounding and her body was still crackling with adrenaline. She parked in front of the twenty-stall stable. When Maximilian Crawford, the patriarch of the Crawford family, purchased the ranch, the barn had been just a plain metal structure. Maximilian refurbished the barn, matching the exterior to the main house’s log cabin design, and now the once plain barn was an impressive showpiece by anyone’s standards. Everything about the updated stable wreaked of money—from the custom Ambling A windmill perched atop the cupola to the red brick rubber pavers in the long, wide aisle that provided a cushion for the horses’ legs and joints. The Crawford cowboys had already begun to fill that fine stable with some of the highest pedigreed Montana-bred quarter horses money could buy.

Working with those horses was an honor Genevieve never thought to have. In fact, she had been completely shocked when Knox Crawford, one of Maximilian’s six sons, had called to hire her as part of the Ambling A’s horse care team. From her experience, most ranchers still had a mindset that being a horse farrier was a job for menfolk. And that mindset went double for her father.

As she was shutting off her engine, Genevieve spotted Knox up in the hayloft above the barn. The two large doors to the hayloft were open and Knox was restacking bales of hay, presumably getting ready for another shipment. The moment she spotted Maximilian’s fifth-born son, she felt that same wonderful shot of adrenaline that she normally only experienced when she was bungee jumping from a bridge, off-road racing or winning a wager with some cowboy who thought that he couldn’t ever lose to a chick.

Knox Crawford was tall and lean with intense brown-black eyes; his body appeared to be carved out of granite from years in the saddle. When Genevieve saw Knox as he was now, shirt unbuttoned with the glistening sweat from his muscular chest making an eye-catching trail down to the waistband of his snug-fitting, faded jeans, it made her almost change her mind about leaving Rust Creek Falls for more open-minded pastures in California.

Almost.

* * *

Knox heard the crunching sound of tires on the gravel drive and that got his heart pumping just a little bit faster. He’d been checking his watch, anticipating pretty Genevieve Lawrence’s arrival. In fact, he’d found himself looking forward to seeing her all week. Knox hoisted one last bale of hay onto a tall stack nearby before he walked over to the wide opening of the hayloft to greet the horse farrier. Genevieve’s truck, white with a colorful horse mural painted on the side, was covered in brown mud. The petite blonde got out of the driver’s side door, looked up at him with an easy smile and waved.

“Sorry I’m late!” she called up to him and the sweetness in her voice rang some sort of bell in the deep recesses of his mind.

Ever since his father had tasked him with the job of finding a veterinarian and farrier for their horses, and Knox had stumbled upon Genevieve’s Healing Hooves website, something in his soul seemed to hone in on this woman like a heat-seeking missile aimed at its target. Surprisingly for him, it wasn’t the fact that she had long wavy, wheat-colored hair that framed her oval face in the most attractive way—even though he had always had a weakness for blondes. And it wasn’t those wide cornflower blue eyes and full lips that seemed to always be turned up into a smile when she looked at him. It was more than just her looks. She fascinated him; she made him laugh. In his mind, that was a mighty potent combination.

“Not a problem.” Knox took his cowboy hat off so he could wipe the sweat from his brow with his sleeve. “Did you get stuck in a mudhole?”

Genevieve had walked around to the back of her truck so she could get her tools as she always did. With a laugh and a cocky smile, she said, “I took a shortcut.”

“Must’ve been one heck of a shortcut.”

“It sure was,” she said with another laugh.

While the farrier buckled on her scarred-up leather chaps that covered the front part of her thighs and knees, Knox tugged his gloves off his hands with his teeth so he could button his shirt. He never took his eyes off Genevieve. She was the sexiest darn tomboy he had ever met. Whenever he saw her, it made him sorely regret that he was dedicated to sticking to his self-imposed dating moratorium. His father was paying big bucks to a matchmaker to marry off his sons and Knox had no intention of going along with the plan quietly. If he had to give up dating for a good, long while, then that’s what he was going to do—but he’d do it his way.

As she finished her task of putting on her chaps, she looked up to find him staring at her. There was no use trying to play it off—she had caught him dead to rights.

“How many do we have today?” Genevieve asked, all business. She was the one woman in his new hometown of Rust Creek Falls that he’d like to flirt a little with him, and yet she seemed to be the only one who didn’t. When she came out to the Ambling A, she was friendly but always professional and on task.

“Four,” he told her.

“You know,” she said, “we could get all of these horses on the same trimming schedule. It’d be easier on you.”

“Naw. Then I’d only get to see you once a month.” He said with a smile. “I’ll meet you down there.”

Genevieve had a routine and he knew it well. She had a policy that the owner, or an owner’s representative, had to be on site when she trimmed hooves, and from her very first visit back in June, Knox had been the one to greet her. There was something special about the time he spent with Genevieve while she worked; he could talk to her in a way he’d never been able to talk to another woman. In fact, he could talk to her like she was one of his brothers. She liked to do guy stuff and she wasn’t overly concerned with her nails and her hair and she was as pretty as they came without makeup. Perhaps the confident, no-nonsense way Genevieve comported herself was why he felt, for the first time in his life, like he had begun a genuine friendship with a woman. The fact that she was easy on the eyes was just a bonus.

Knox slipped the halter on his big dappled gray gelding, Big Blue, and led him down the wide aisle of the barn to the cross ties where Genevieve had set up her hoof stand.

“How’s Blue today?” The farrier ran her hand down the horse’s neck as she always did, checking out the horse’s body and stance before she moved to the hooves.

“No complaints.” He hooked the cross tie onto Blue’s halter to keep the horse standing in one place while Genevieve worked.

“He’s got a good weight on him.”

“He’s fit, that’s for sure.”

Genevieve finished her inspection, circling back to the horse’s left front hoof. Unlike any other farrier he had ever seen, she knelt down beside Blue’s front left leg, lifted it and let it rest on her thigh while she took one of her tools from a pocket of her chaps. On the first day she’d come out to the ranch he’d asked her about her unusual trimming posture—kneeling instead of standing, which was the standard because it was safer for the farrier. Genevieve’s answer had stuck with him—she had said that it was all about the comfort of the horse for her. Yes, it was more dangerous, but she trusted the horses and they trusted her. If she had to get out of the way, she knew how to do it. That night he had gone to his father, who was convinced that hiring a woman farrier was bad business, and told him that he had just met one of the most talented farriers he’d ever known. And to this day, he hadn’t changed his mind about Genevieve.

“How’s he looking?” Knox moved closer to Genevieve, liking the way she would flip her long, thick braid over her shoulder.

“He looks great.” She glanced up from her work to nod at him. “The walls of the hoof are strong, the frog has got good give, and it’s been so rainy and wet these last few weeks, I’ve been seeing a lot of thrush out there, but Blue’s don’t have any signs of that.”

“All good news then.”

“All good news.”

After that brief exchange, Knox leaned back against a nearby wall and watched Genevieve work. She was fast and efficient, another trait he appreciated about her. She didn’t smoke or spit tobacco, or take extended breaks in between horses to shoot the breeze about hunting or to recount worn-out rodeo stories like the past farriers he had hired. Genevieve kept her focus on the horse, even during the times when they had a conversation going.

“He’s ready to go back to his stall.” She unhooked Big Blue from the cross ties.

Knox had been so lost in thought that he hadn’t even noticed that she had finished. Those moments when he had been brooding about the conflict he was having with the father had raced by without him noticing.

“He’s already done?” He pushed away from the wall. “That was quick.”

“Quick and competent.” She handed him the lead rope with a smile. “Bring me my next victim, please.”

Knox led Big Blue back to his stall before he grabbed a dun mare with a black mane and tail and a tan body his father had just purchased for breeding.

“Who’s this beauty?” Genevieve’s face lit up at the sight of the new addition to the stable.

“Honey.”

Genevieve rubbed the mare between the eyes, and the mare, who had been head shy and skittish around most of the ranch hands at the Ambling A, lowered her head and nuzzled the farrier’s hand.

“And, you’re sweet like honey, aren’t you?”

After her standard body and leg check of the mare, Genevieve went to work. The first order of business was pulling the mare’s shoes; Genevieve had a reputation of being one of the best “barefoot” farriers and could often get a horse sound without shoes. Some horses required shoes, but it was best for the horse if they could have their hooves natural like God made them.

“Walk her forward for me so I can see her walk,” Genevieve instructed once she pulled the last shoe off the mare. “Let’s see how she does.”

After a couple of cautious steps where the mare was trying to get used to the odd sensation of walking without metal attached to her hooves, she began to walk naturally without any signs of lameness.

With a pleased smile, Genevieve waved her hand. “Bring her on back. She’s going to do just fine without shoes.”

It didn’t seem like any time at all that Genevieve handed the new mare off to him as she prepared for the third horse of the day. She was halfway done and he had wasted their time together lost in his own thoughts.

“I’m sorry I haven’t been much company today.” He didn’t know why he felt like he owed her some sort of explanation. Most visits they had a lot to say to each other. But today he couldn’t seem to get out of his own head.

Genevieve, in keeping with her easygoing manner, said, “Don’t worry about it. There’re plenty of days I don’t feel like talking, trust me.”

That was just the thing—he wanted to talk to somebody about his situation with his father. In fact, he felt like he needed to talk to somebody about it. It was eating him inside out keeping it all bottled up. Lately, he swung like an erratic pendulum from furious to just plain fed up and he was always thinking about a way to show his father, once and for all, that he couldn’t meddle in his life. He was a full-grown man and he was dog tired of his father thinking that he could control him like a puppet on a string.

Knox had chafed under his father’s rule for most of his life. Even as a kid he had wanted to set his own course, to make his own decisions. Max ruled the family with a proverbial iron fist—he was the boss and his word was first, last and final. There had been plenty of times when Knox thought to take a different path in life and leave the family business behind but one of his brothers would always reel him back in to the fold. In fact, his decision to move to Montana in the first place was touch and go. This move would have been the perfect excuse to start a new chapter in his life without having to always bend to his father’s will. Yet, here he was, in Montana, once again, doing it Maximilian’s way.

And, perhaps that would have been okay for him. The Ambling A had plenty of elbow room and he had his own cabin. The town of Rust Creek Falls was nice enough and the women sure were pretty. But, then his father dishonored him, and his brothers, by offering to pay a local matchmaker, Vivian Shuster, a million bucks to find brides for his sons. Knox felt humiliated and the wound was deeper because the source of that humiliation was his own father. More than any time in his life, Knox wanted to send his father a message: stop meddling in my life!

In no time at all, Genevieve was finished with the third horse and ready for the last one. Perhaps it was the fact that their visit was about to be over—or perhaps it was because he had grown so comfortable with this woman. Either way, when Knox placed the last horse in the cross ties for Genevieve, he broached a subject with her that he had sworn he’d never broach with anyone other than family.

“I suppose you’ve heard all about the million-dollar deal my dad made with Viv Shuster.” Knox had his arms crossed in front of his body and he watched Genevieve’s face carefully.

She was about to kneel down and begin working, but his words must have caught her off guard. Genevieve looked up at him with what could only be read as embarrassment—not for her, but for him. Of course the pretty farrier had heard all about the million-dollar deal Max had made to marry off his six sons. Of course she had.

* * *

Genevieve had hoped that the subject of the Viv Shuster deal would never come up between Knox and her. Everyone in Rust Creek Falls had heard about Maximilian’s quest to marry off his six eligible bachelor sons. It was the talk of the town! Most of the townsfolk were rooting for Viv so she could keep her sagging wedding business afloat. And there was a good chance Viv could pull it off. There were a lot of single women in town who wanted in on the Crawford action. Because Knox had become a friend of sorts, Genevieve never wanted to bring up what might be a sore subject for him. After all, she knew too well what it was like to have an overbearing father determined to control the lives of his adult children.

“I heard,” she said simply, not wanting to sugarcoat it. Knox didn’t seem like the type to want things sugarcoated for him. She took a moment to look directly into his intense, deep brown eyes so he would know that she was sincere when she said, “And I’m sorry.”

His heavy brown brows lifted slightly at her words. “Thank you.”

She nodded her head. Perhaps she was the first to say that to him. Instead of starting right away on the last horse, Genevieve opened up to Knox in a way she hadn’t before. “You know, I do understand how you feel. My dad’s been trying to marry me off for years. He thinks that my profession is unladylike.” She made quotation marks with her fingers when she said unladylike. “He thinks my expiration date for making babies is looming like an end-of-the-world scenario. As if that’s the only thing I’m good for.” She frowned at the thought. “I’ve gone out with every darn made-in-Montana cowboy within a fifty-mile radius—”

“You haven’t gone out with me,” the rancher interjected.

The way those words slipped past Knox’s lips, like a lover’s whisper full of promise of good things to come, made Genevieve’s stomach tighten in the most annoying way. She did not need to get involved with anyone in Rust Creek Falls. That was not the plan.

Wanting to laugh off the suggestion in his words, she smiled. “Well, that’s because you are a made-in-Texas cowboy. That doesn’t count.”

Knox took a step closer, his eyes pinned on her face in a way that had never happened before. This new line of conversation had seemed to open something up between them, and Genevieve wasn’t all too sure that she shouldn’t slam the lid shut real quick on what might turn out to be a giant Pandora’s box.

“Well,” the rancher said, his voice lowered in a way that sent a tingle right down her spine. “You know what people say about things from Texas—”

“I know, I know.” She cut him off playfully. “Everything is bigger in Texas.”

“Now, that’s a dirty mind at work.” Knox smiled at her, showing his straight white teeth. “I was going to say better but if you want to say bigger, then I’m not going to object.”

The banter seemed to break the odd tension between them and they both laughed. And that’s when she noticed that when Knox took a step toward her, she had mindlessly taken a step toward him. With a steadying hand on the neck of the horse patiently waiting in the cross ties, Genevieve said, still laughing, “Do you know that I even agreed to go out with your brother on a date, just to get my father off my back?”

In the rancher’s eyes, there was a fleeting emotion that Genevieve could identify only as jealousy. It was brief, but she saw it.

“Not that anything happened between us,” she was quick to add before she got to work on the final horse of the day. If she got lost in conversation with Knox, she would lose the time she had made up and then she would be late for her next client. “I knew that Logan had it bad for Sarah. As a matter of fact, I told him to quit being such a chicken on our date. It was just a one and done for me. I told Viv to take my name officially off the list and I told my dad I tried.”

“So... Logan wasn’t your type?”

Genevieve glanced up to see that same intense, focused, almost examining expression in Knox’s eyes.

“No,” she said with an easy laugh. “And obviously I wasn’t his! He’s married to Sarah and everyone in town knows how much he loves being a father to baby Sophia.”

Genevieve gently moved the horse’s hoof onto her stand so she could smooth out the rough edges left behind by her nippers. “My dad says I’m too picky, but is there really such a thing as being too picky when you’re looking for your soul mate? I mean, unless I meet that exact right guy, I’m not even all that sure that I want to get married and have kids. I have my business and my career to build. I’m happy. Why fix what ain’t broken, right? That’s why I’m living in the apartment above my parents’ garage—I’m saving money so I can move to California. There’s a lot of really exciting stuff happening with holistic approaches to horse care there and I want to be a part of it.”

“So, you’re not even planning on hanging around Rust Creek Falls?”

“Nope.”

“That might just be perfect, then.”

The cryptic tone Knox used to say those words made an alarm bell go off in her head, but she didn’t ask him about it. Some things, in her experience, were better left alone.

Genevieve finished her work and unhooked the last horse from the cross ties, hooked the lead rope to its halter and handed the horse off to Knox.

“You can tell your father that all the horses got a clean bill of health today. I can see these four again in four to six weeks.”

Knox nodded rather absentmindedly. He led the horse back to its stall, and then he headed back to her, covering the distance quickly with his long-legged stride. There was a new determination in the way he walked, and there was a glint of mischief in his dark brown eyes that caught her attention and made her feel a little queasy in her stomach, like she had just gotten a mild case of food poisoning.

Instead of handing her a check as was typical, Knox stood in front of her, his hat tilted back a bit so she could see his eyes, and asked her, “How would you like to get your dad off your back while you’re earning your way out of here?”

“How would I like that?” She shook her head with a laugh. “Are you kidding me? I’d love to get Lionel Lawrence off my back.”

“Then you and I are in the same boat. Because I would love to get Max off my back and out of my business.”

Genevieve heard, and understood, the frustration in Knox’s voice. Having an overbearing, meddling parent as an adult could strain even the most solid of parent-child relationships.

She shrugged. “I hear you, Knox, but so far, nothing I’ve tried has worked. If I could find a guy who would just be a no-strings-attached boyfriend for a while, that would placate dad for a while I think. But, all the guys around here want a commitment. Something weird in the water around these parts, I think.”

“I wasn’t really thinking about a boyfriend,” Knox said.

“Oh, no?” Her brow wrinkled curiously. “What were you thinking?”

Knox pinned her in place with those deep, dark eyes of his and his lips—very nice, firm, masculine lips—curled up into a little smirk. “I was thinking more along the lines of a husband.”

Chapter Two

The idea that she would leap from single to married struck Genevieve as laughable.

“Giant fat chance of that!” She laughed as she swept up the leftover fragments of hoof that were scattered across the red rubber pavers. “Marriage? To a local guy? How would that get me closer to my goal of getting to California?”

When she finished cleaning up her area and dumping the hoof fragments into a nearby trash can, Knox still hadn’t moved from his spot. Usually, as was their established routine, he would have gone to the office, written her a check, and by the time she was finished packing up her small cache of tools, the check would be in her hand. Genevieve slid her phone out of her back pocket and glanced down at the screen; she had gained a couple of minutes of time and if she left the Ambling A shortly, she would actually be back on schedule for her next client.

“Well...?” she prompted, hoping the fact that she had her hoof stand in one hand would be a silent signal to Knox that, as enjoyable as his company was, it was time for her to move along.

As if it just dawned on him that he was holding her up, Knox gave a quick nod of his head. “Let’s go to the office and I’ll write you a check.”

Fine. We’ll do it this way.

Genevieve set her hoof stand down on the rubber pavers and followed Knox the short distance to an office space that had been incorporated into one of the tack rooms. Knox opened the door for her and let her walk in first. The room, which had rows of Western saddles and bridles lining the far wall, smelled of leather and soap, along with the sweet smell of hay from the small stack of bales just inside the door. Genevieve walked over to a black saddle with ornate designs carved into the leather and fancy-edged silver conches as accent pieces. From the smoothness of the leather on the seat, along with the craftsmanship, she knew that this was a classic saddle from the 1950s.

“That’s my dad’s saddle,” Knox said as he closed the door. “Seen a lot of work over the years.”

At the sound of the door closing, Genevieve’s Cat Woman senses started setting off alarm bells in her brain and she spun around to face the rancher. Knox had a strange look on his classically handsome face. She didn’t like the fact that he was blocking the door and she especially didn’t like it when he reached behind his body and locked them in the tack room.

“Listen here, Knox Crawford.” Genevieve scowled at him, moving her body into a defensive stance. “I’ve had six weeks of self-defense training when I was in college and if you make so much as one wrong move, cowboy, I will hurt you!”

Knox lifted his hands as if he were surrendering, a slightly lopsided grin on his face that she hadn’t seen him use before. “I promise you, I only want to talk business.”

She pointed at the door. “We don’t need a locked door to talk business, Knox. I trim the horses’ hooves and you write me a check. Simple.”

“The delivery of hay is here,” Knox noted distractedly. Earlier she had heard the piercing sound of squeaking brakes on a large delivery truck backing up to the opening in the hayloft and the sound of deliverymen yelling to one another. But she didn’t understand what the heck that had to do with the fact that Knox wanted her alone in the office.

“I have a proposal for you and I don’t want us to be overheard or disturbed.”

Her arms crossed in front of her body, Genevieve’s interest was piqued in spite of herself. Even though he had locked the door, Knox wasn’t giving off any creepy stalker vibes, so her defenses lowered ever so slightly. Knox had always been gentlemanly, kind, consistent and had never come on to her in all the months she had been working with him. It wasn’t beyond reasonable to give him the benefit of the doubt.

“What proposal is that?”

Knox took his hat off and tossed it on the nearby desk, his dark brown eyes so serious.

“Marriage.” He said it so plainly and simply she almost thought she had misunderstood.

Genevieve’s arms tightened around her body, and her heart, without her permission, began to beat rapidly in her chest. This wasn’t her first marriage proposal, but it certainly was the strangest.

“Gen.” Hands in his pockets he took a small step toward her. “I want to propose marriage. Let’s get married.”

Today was the first day he had ever called her by a nickname, and she had to admit it sounded kind of nice when he said it in his raspy baritone voice.

Genevieve stared up at Knox and he stared right back at her. The only sound was the ambient noise of the scraping and stomping of men’s feet as they moved bales of hay into the hayloft above them.

After a second or two, her arms fell away from her body as she laughed. “Very funny, Knox. Ha, ha. Yeah—let’s get married. That makes total sense.”

But Knox wasn’t laughing.

“You’re right. It does make perfect sense.”

“You’re serious?” She stopped laughing. “You want us to get married?”

“Yes.”

Now she was frowning at him. They had started a friendship over the last several months and she liked him. But what in the world had possessed him to propose marriage out of the blue? He had never even so much as flirted with her!

“Are you going through some sort of mental crisis, Knox?” she asked seriously. “Because you can get help for that.”

“I’m perfectly sane.” He wasn’t smiling but there was now a conspiratorial gleam in his eye. “Just hear me out.”

“No.” She scooted around him, unlocked the door and swung it open. In the open doorway, she held out her hand. “I’ll take my check, please, and then I’ll be on my way.”

He didn’t move to the desk to write her a check. “What if I told you I had a way for us to help each other get exactly what we want?”

Now that the door was open and any passing ranch hand could overhear their conversation, Knox had lowered his voice. She had to lean in slightly to hear his next words.

“You want to move to California.” It was a statement of fact.

She nodded.

“How much does a move like that cost?”

His words touched a raw nerve in her body. From her calculations, to move her and her horse to California and get her business established it was going to take much deeper pockets than she currently had. In truth, as much as she hated admitting it, she was most likely years away from moving out of her parents’ garage apartment.

“A king’s ransom,” she admitted gloomily.

“I just happened to know a king.”

Everyone in town knew that the Texas Crawford cowboys were wealthy; if Knox wanted anything in his life, he just had to go out and buy it. It seemed to her, in this moment, that he was trying to buy himself a bride.

She wasn’t for sale.

“Hear me out, Gen. If you don’t like what I have to say—no harm, no foul.” When he used one of her favorite expressions, her eyes moved back to his face. “We’ll never speak of this again.”

In spite of herself, she just couldn’t say no to at least listening to a plan that could possibly shave off years of saving for her move to California. She would be crazy not to at least listen, wouldn’t she?

Genevieve stepped back inside the tack room and closed the door behind her. “You’ve got five minutes.”

“We elope,” he told her in a no-nonsense manner. “Now that Logan is married to Sarah and Xander is happily married to Lily, my father will think he’s three sons down with only three more to marry off. And when my other brothers get engaged, we’ll get the marriage annulled.”

“You really want to get back at your dad that much?”

She saw a shift in Knox’s eyes, a flash of anger that disappeared as quickly as it had arrived, like a quick flash of light in the darkness.

“Nobody controls me. He needs to learn that lesson, yes.” The rancher continued, “After the annulment, I’ll make sure you get to California. All expenses paid. In the meantime, as a bonus, you’ll be free to live your life without any hassle from your dad.”

“As your wife.” She scrunched up her face at the thought. She had never equated marriage with freedom.

“As my fake wife,” he said. “A marriage in name only. You do your thing and I’ll do mine.”

“You know what, Knox? This is absolutely the most extreme way a man has tried to lure me into his bed. And there have been some doozies, let me tell you.”

“I don’t want to sleep with you, Gen. I want to marry you.” He said it seriously, and then added as almost an unimportant aside, “Not that I don’t think you’re attractive.”

“Gee thanks, Crawford.” She rolled her eyes at the way he delivered the compliment. “You really know how to make a woman feel all girly inside. Am I blushing?”

As if the sarcasm didn’t register, he asked, “So, what do you think?”

“What do I think?”

He nodded.

“I think,” Genevieve said in a slow, thoughtful tone, “thank you, but no thank you.” She gripped the doorknob. “Do me a favor, would you? Please put that check in the mail. My next client awaits.”

Before she could open the door and walk out into the hall, she noted that Knox’s expression was cloudy. He had his head tilted downward and he was tapping his finger on the top of the desk, as if that action would help him find a way to change her mind. Logan had told her that Knox didn’t like to be wrong, he didn’t like to lose and he didn’t like to be told no. She and Knox had those three things in common.

He looked up and pinned her with eyes that looked more black than brown in the moment.

“I suppose all of those things I heard about you must’ve been a pretty big exaggeration then.” Knox’s words were laced with a challenge that made the small hairs on the back of her neck stand up.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I heard that Genevieve Lawrence never backs down from a challenge.”

Knox caught her off guard by skillfully tapping into one of her weaknesses.

“I don’t.”

“I also heard that Genevieve Lawrence has never lost a wager in the town.” This was said with a small challenging smile, as if he knew that he had just sunk the hook.

“You heard right.” She found herself still standing there, gripping the doorknob. “I haven’t.”

She had always been a tomboy who felt more comfortable hanging out with the boys than the girls. And, for the most part, the boys had accepted her as one of their own. But they thought, wrongly, that because she was a girl she would be easy to beat. She wasn’t. The boys in town had always made bets with her and they had always lost. When the boys grew into men, they still lost. What she lacked in strength, she more than made up for it with an innate desire to win. She had been competitive since she was a kid and that had never changed. Everyone knew Genevieve was the reigning champion for winning wagers in Rust Creek Falls; it was a title she wore with pride. And she planned on leaving this town undefeated.

There was a cockiness lurking behind Knox’s dark eyes that made her jaw clench. This was the exact look cowboys gave her right before she beat them at tractor chicken. No matter how big or tough, the braggadocios all blinked and ended up driving their tractor into a ditch while she kept right on driving her tractor on the road. She never blinked.

“Then,” Knox said as he took a step toward her, his tone steady and serious, “I dare you to marry me.”

She’d always had a bit of a temper and it had gotten her in trouble more times than she could remember. She took a step toward Knox.

“You dare me?”

“That’s what I said.”

“You dare me?” she repeated, surprised that he had thrown down a gauntlet that he had to know she wouldn’t be able to resist picking up.

“You’ll be married by morning, Crawford, so you’d better watch who you’re daring to do something.” She jabbed her finger in his direction, her cheeks flushed.

“Naw, I doubt it. I bet you won’t marry me.” She hated the fact that there was smugness in his tone now. “You’ll chicken out.”

Chicken out? Did he actually know that those words were like waving the proverbial red flag in front of the meanest bull in Rust Creek Falls? “I never chicken out, Knox.”

“Neither do I.”

Genevieve slipped her phone out of her back pocket, typed in a search, and then scrolled through the information on the website she chose. She held out the phone for Knox to see. “We can drive to Kalispell tomorrow, get a license and get married the same day. No waiting.”

“That doesn’t scare me.” He smiled at her. “Does it scare you?”

“Nothing scares me.” She kept searching for information about getting married in nearby Kalispell. “There’s a problem.”

“What’s that?”

“We need someone to officiate the wedding and it says here we need to book months in advance.”

“That’s not a problem. I know a guy I can call.”

“You know a guy?”

“Yeah. I know a guy. I’m sure he’ll be able to squeeze us into his schedule.”

“How romantic.” Genevieve slipped her phone back into her pocket. “Meet me tomorrow morning, eight o’clock outside of the Gold Rush Diner.” Genevieve pushed open the door, bristling mad. “If you show up, we’ll go get ourselves hitched.”

“I like the sound of that.” Knox held out his hand. “Shall we shake on it?”

Her hand slipped easily into his. “We enter into a platonic marriage and then when we get an annulment you pay all of my expenses to move to California—including moving my horse, Spartacus.”

“My word is my bond as a man.”

“My word is my bond as a woman,” she countered as she tugged her fingers free.

She had meant to call his bluff, but it had backfired. Instead of backing down, he’d stepped up.

He picked up a long piece of greenish alfalfa hay off the floor, quickly tied it into a small circle and, with his straight white teeth showing in a genuine smile, he knelt down before her on one knee and extended the makeshift ring.

“Genevieve Lawrence, will you do me the honor of being my fake bride?”

“You’re being ridiculous.”

“Don’t ruin this special moment for me.” He moved the hay ring back and forth for her to see. “It’s not every day I get engaged.”

“Fine,” she said with an annoyed sigh as she held out her left hand. “I will be your fake bride, Knox. But only if you show up tomorrow.”

The cowboy stood up and slipped the crude ring onto her finger. Did she imagine it, or did a small shock pass between them when he took her hand in his? She looked at the ring encircling her finger; she had never thought to see any type of ring on that finger for years, if ever. Even a hay ring made her feel boxed in like a trapped wild animal.

Genevieve swayed backward and put her hand on the door to steady her body. She pushed the door open quickly so she could get some air into her lungs. When she stepped out into the wide aisle of the barn, she took in a deep breath, wanting to fill her lungs with as much air as possible to fend off the dizziness that had sprung up out of nowhere. She forced her brain to will her body to get it together and calm down. She was well-known for her nerves of steel when she was off-road racing or vaulting on the back of her horse—why were those nerves failing her now? Perhaps because this was the most serious bet she had ever made in her life—and if she was wrong, and Knox actually showed up, Genevieve knew that she wouldn’t be the one to back down. If she was wrong and he showed up, she would be married by sundown tomorrow.

Genevieve closed her eyes for the briefest of seconds; when she opened them, she had her game face firmly back in place. To Knox, she said in a clipped, no-nonsense tone, “Don’t forget to put that check in the mail, Crawford. I’ve got bills to pay.”

“No need, darlin’,” Knox called out after her with a pleased laugh in his voice that made her shoulders stiffen as she walked away. “I’ll just bring it to you tomorrow.”

* * *

The next morning, thirty minutes before their planned meet time, Knox parked his truck in the crowded lot of the Gold Rush Diner. He spotted Genevieve’s truck, still caked in mud from her off-road shortcut, parked nearby. He hadn’t been able to sleep the night before, thinking about the moment he would arrive at the diner, not knowing if Genevieve would really show up. It surprised him that the sight of her truck didn’t make him feel nervous in the least. In fact, his stomach had been churning all morning at the thought of her not showing up. Now that he knew she was here, all he felt was relieved. And hungry.

Knox pushed open the door to the diner and nodded his head in greeting to the folks he knew. Rust Creek was a small town; it was typical to run into folks he knew everywhere.

“Find a seat where you can,” the waitress pouring coffee behind the counter called out to him.

Knox had already spotted his target. Genevieve was sitting in a booth in the back of the diner, her long, wavy blond hair freshly washed and cascading over her shoulders. She wasn’t dressed for an elopement, but then again, neither was he. Just like him, Genevieve had on her work clothes—jeans, boots and a T-shirt. No doubt she assumed he was going to back out of the wager, just as he assumed she would. He couldn’t explain it fully, but the moment he spotted her sitting alone in that booth, his spirits lifted and all of the nerves and anxiety he had been feeling slipped away.

“Mornin’.” Knox sat down in the booth bench opposite his fiancée. He took off his hat and placed it on the table. From the pocket of his T-shirt he took out a folded check, unfolded it and slid it across the table.

Genevieve, who seemed to be stiff as a statue, her hands seemingly glued to the sides of her steaming coffee mug, stared at the check for a second before she snatched it off the table and put it in her jeans pocket.

“You’re early.” She stated the obvious in a harsh whisper.

“So are you.”

“Do you really think that it’s a good idea for us to be seen together like this?”

He caught her drift. There were some town gossips in the diner who stared curiously in their direction.

Feeling happy, Knox smiled at her. “May as well start giving them something to talk about.”

“I can feel them staring at us,” his bride-to-be said under her breath.

“They sure are.”

The waitress swung by their table with her order pad and a pen. “What can I get you folks?”

“Are you hungry?” he asked Genevieve.

“No.”

He took the menu out from behind the salt and pepper shakers. “Really? Suddenly I’m famished.” He winked at the pretty, frowning blonde sitting across from him. With a teasing, private smile, he asked, “What do you suggest for a man who’s about to eat his last meal?”

Chapter Three

They had decided to take his black decked-out GMC truck for the thirty-minute trip to Kalispell. Was Knox bluffing or was he truly pleased that they were on their way to get married? She had watched the man put away scrambled eggs, bacon, three biscuits with butter and honey, grits and two large glasses of orange juice. She had no idea how he could eat at a time like this! Her stomach felt like a washing machine on a spin cycle; the coffee she had drunk at the diner was just adding to the acid backing up in her throat. She felt miserable while he hummed contentedly behind the wheel.

“You played me pretty good, Knox. I have to admit it.”

For two people who normally had a lot to say to each other, the first half of the ride to Kalispell had been a quiet one.

“How do you figure?”

“You knew I wouldn’t be able to turn down a wager. You knew my weakness and you exploited it.”

“That’s true. I did.”

“That’s a move right out of my own playbook. I don’t like it but I have to respect it,” she admitted grudgingly.

After a moment of silence she added, “I’ve never lost a wager before.” She had her arms crossed in front of her body as she stared out at the pastureland dotted with grazing cows on either side of the highway. “It galls me to lose to a Texan of all things.”

“You didn’t lose,” Knox said with an easy smile turned her way. “I’d call this one a draw.”

“Draws are for losers.”

“That’s not how I see it. We’re both winners, as far as I can tell.”

“The only way I win is if you back out. I can still win. There’s still time.”

He laughed. “I’m not backing out of this wedding wager, Gen. If someone’s gonna back out of this deal, it’s gonna have to be you.”

Genevieve glanced over at Knox’s profile; she took in the strong jawline and the straight nose. Had she finally met her match? Was this cowboy crazy enough to really elope today? Was she so pigheaded that her ego wouldn’t let her back down for a bet? She suspected the answer to her first two questions, but she absolutely knew the answer to the last. Her ego wouldn’t ever let her back down—not when she was racing, not when she was bungee jumping and not even when she was about to elope with one of the Crawford cowboys on a dare.

“Then,” she said with a pensive frown, “I guess we’re really going to get married today.”

“Darlin’, that’s music to my ears.”

“Quit being so darn cheerful,” she snapped at him. “And quit calling me darlin’.”

* * *

Genevieve had hoped for a long line to apply for their marriage license. There was a line, but it seemed to be the swiftest moving line she had ever seen. How did it even make sense that two people could just walk up to a counter and get a license to get married? But that’s what they did. They went to the third floor of the Flathead County Justice Center, showed their driver’s licenses, paid fifty-three dollars and left with a state sanctioned “permission slip” to become husband and wife.

“This is why there’s so much divorce in this country,” Genevieve complained as they stepped out into the sunshine with their marriage license in hand. “They make it too darn easy for just anyone to say I do.”

“Lucky for us.” Knox carefully folded up their marriage license and tucked it into his wallet.

Genevieve had stopped waiting for the cowboy to back out—she could see that he was full-steam ahead on this deal while her mind was whirling with a thousand consequences. What were her parents going to say? What was his family going to say? Of course, she could hear her mother now. Genevieve, when will you ever learn to look before you leap?

“We aren’t exactly dressed for a wedding, are we?” Knox asked as they walked to the sidewalk outside of the Kalispell courthouse.

“I didn’t expect you to show up,” she admitted. In fact, she had only stuffed some things into a backpack at the last minute before she headed to the Gold Rush on the off chance he did show. In her backpack she had a toothbrush, a hairbrush, her laptop and a Swiss Army pocketknife. Not exactly the most practical of wedding trousseaus.

“Well, I did.” He kept on smiling at her like the cat that ate the canary. “So, why don’t we find some wedding duds? There’s got to be a place where a man can get a suit and a bride-to-be can find a dress.”

She wasn’t quite sure why Knox wanted to make such an event of a civil ceremony for their marriage-in-name-only, but the thought crossed her mind that her family, particularly her two sisters and her mom, would want to see pictures. Her family would totally buy her eloping in her barn clothes—they almost expected that kind of behavior from her—but what about Knox’s kin? Would they believe their elopement was the real deal if they didn’t look like a head-over-heels couple sneaking off to make their secret romance official?

“I suppose,” she said, looking up the main street of Kalispell to a row of shops. “If we’re going to convince your father that we eloped because we’re crazy in love, we had better look the part.”

After a quick search on her phone, they headed toward the Kalispell Center Mall on North Main Street. They found their way to Herberger’s department store for one-stop shopping. First, they purchased simple white gold wedding rings, just plain bands without any embellishment. After all, those rings were just costume props and would be discarded once Viv Shuster managed to get the last three Crawford cowboys engaged.

Knox hadn’t wanted to scare Genevieve off, but it could take a while for Viv to make matches for the final three brothers. His brother Finn, older by only one year, might be the easiest to pin down with a bride. Finn didn’t seem to mind their father’s plan all that much and he was always falling in and out of love anyway. But, his one younger brother Wilder was going to prove extra challenging for Viv—he was a busy bee that loved to pollinate all the lovely flowers of Rust Creek Falls and it was going to be a neat trick to get Wilder to dedicate himself to one special rose. And, Hunter, well, he was a single father who wasn’t focused on finding love in the least. Hunter’s heart, mind, and soul were all wrapped up in six-year-old Wren.

Knox pocketed the wedding rings as they parted ways—he headed to the men’s clothing section, while she headed for women’s dresses. They agreed to meet back at the jewelry counter in one hour. Genevieve wasn’t much of a shopper but she was quick to make decisions, so one hour suited her just fine.

“Hi! Welcome to Herberger’s.” A petite salesclerk with a blond bob and bangs popped out from behind a tall rack of dresses. “How may I help you?”

“I need a dress.”

“Special occasion?”

“My wedding,” Genevieve said. “I suppose.”

“You suppose?” The salesclerk’s name tag read Kimber. “That’s a first. Don’t you know?”

She didn’t have any intention of sharing the details of her wedding wager to Knox Crawford with a stranger in Herberger’s department store, so she ignored Kimber’s question and focused on the dress.

“Do you have something you could show me? I’m in a bit of a time crunch.”

“Of course, I do.” Kimber beamed with pleasure. “I love dressing brides. White, off-white?”

“White.” That was for her mom—it was a small token but it was the least she could do.

“Indoors or outdoors?”

Not wanting to say “I don’t know,” she just took a guess. “Outdoors.”

Kimber marched her over to a section of white dresses that could be worn as a casual-ceremony wedding dress.

“You are short-waisted and petite like me,” the salesclerk said as they sifted through the rack. “If we aren’t careful, we’ll have you looking like you’re a little girl playing dress-up in your mama’s clothes. What size do you wear?”

“In a dress? I have no idea.” She hadn’t put a dress on her body since high school graduation. “A four maybe?”

“Ooooh, look at this!” Kimber pulled a gauzy white dress off the rack. It was a high-low dress with spaghetti straps and a sash at the waist. “What do you think?”

Genevieve felt the material—it was light and airy and it wasn’t too fussy or girly. “I think, yes.”

The moment she saw herself in the mirror with this flowing hippy-girl dress skimming over her body, she knew. This was her wedding dress. Kimber’s beaming face was further confirmation that the first dress she had tried was the only dress she needed to try. They found a pair of cowgirl boots in white in the shoe department, which worked perfectly with the gauzy dress. Kimber insisted that Genevieve go over to see her friend at the makeup counter just for a touch of mascara, blush and a light lip gloss. By the time she left the makeup counter in her new dress, her hair wavy and loose, Genevieve saw a bride in the full-length mirror.

“Thank you.” She hugged Kimber. “I couldn’t have done this without you.”

“You look absolutely, positively gorgeous, Genevieve!” the salesclerk gushed. “Congratulations.”

* * *

Knox was early to the jewelry counter, feeling slightly awkward in his new dark gray suit, crisp white shirt and a bolo tie. The suit wasn’t a perfect fit—it was a little tight in the shoulders and the pants and the jacket sleeves were almost too short—but it was the best the store could do. He checked his watch before he tugged on his shirtsleeves and adjusted his bolo tie for the sixth time. He couldn’t remember ever feeling this nervous to see a woman before, yet Genevieve wasn’t just any woman. She was about to be his wife. At the moment, it didn’t matter that it wasn’t a genuine marriage—in the eyes of the State of Montana, their families and God above, they were about to be husband and wife.

One minute to the hour, Knox looked up from checking his watch and saw Genevieve round the corner in a filmy white dress with thin straps that showed off her tanned arms, toned from years of working with horses. Genevieve always presented herself as a confident, assured woman. Today, there was hesitancy in her cornflower blue eyes—a fleeting vulnerability that touched him. She wanted his approval; he could see it in her eyes. He didn’t have to fake what he was feeling in the moment—he had never seen a more beautiful bride.

“Gen,” Knox said, his eyes drinking her in. “You’re a vision.”

A pink blush stained her cheeks, so lovely and sweet that it made him want to reach out and touch her, but he resisted that urge.

“Thank you,” she said. He had never seen this almost shy side to this woman and he had to admit that he liked it.

“I like that tie.”

Knox looked down at the bolo tie. He hadn’t been too sure about that fashion choice, but the salesman swore it was the item of choice for many Kalispell grooms.

“When in Kalispell...” he said, making yet another attempt to adjust the tie to make it less tight around his neck. Giving up, he held out his arm to his bride-to-be. “Shall we?”

Genevieve looked at his extended arm and he could almost see her thoughts as she stood there considering. A shift occurred on her pretty oval face. He witnessed the exact moment she decided, once and for all, to be his wife.

“Okay,” she finally said. “Yes.”

When Genevieve tucked her arm through his, a calm flooded his body. He had never felt so comfortable with a woman on his arm before. It was as if having this petite, strong-willed woman beside him made him feel more at home with himself. He didn’t understand it exactly, but he knew that it meant something more than he could figure in this moment. All he knew was that Genevieve was special and she was going to be his bride.

“Where are we going to do the deed?” she asked him as they left the mall.

“It’s a surprise.”

“I have to tell you, I’m not a huge fan of surprises.”

“This one you’ll like.”

* * *

“Lawrence Park.” Genevieve read the sign at the public park entrance. She had been to Kalispell many times in her life, but she had never known that there was a park that shared her last name.

“There’s a walking trail that leads to Stillwater River. I know you like the outdoors, so I thought that would be a good place to get married.”

Knox’s thoughtfulness caught her off guard. She had always gotten the impression that he was a hardworking man—a good man—but he had never really come across as an overly romantic or thoughtful man. This gesture showed her a different side of Knox Crawford—a side that she had to admit that she liked very much.

“There’s Sonny.” Knox nodded through the windshield at a heavyset man with a long white beard standing in faded overalls by an antique Ford truck. Beside Sonny was a woman in a long flowered dress and tennis shoes, her salt-and-pepper hair in a single thick braid down her back. In the woman’s hands was a simple bouquet of Montana wildflowers.

“Is he officiating the wedding?”

Knox nodded. He came to her side of the truck and helped her out. “He goes way back with my dad. I knew he would be willing to help us out on short notice.”

“Hello, young man!” Sonny raised his hand in greeting. “You picked a mighty fine day to get married.”

Knox clasped hands with Sonny, then hugged his wife, Cora, before he introduced them to Genevieve.

“Knox wanted me to bring these for you.” Cora handed her the flowers. “He’s always been such a thoughtful boy.”

Genevieve took the flowers, with a quick glance up at Knox who was watching her closely. She smiled down at the bouquet. Wildflowers were the perfect flowers for her.

“Young love is always in such a hurry.” Cora smiled at her. “We were so surprised to get Knox’s call.”

“You’re father’s not gonna be too pleased with me, what with all of this secrecy,” Sonny said as he thoughtfully tugged on his beard.

“I appreciate you doing this for us.” Knox put his arm around her shoulder and she had to force herself to stand still and plaster a smile on her face. From this moment forward, she was Knox Crawford’s blushing and loving bride and she had to act like it.

“Yes,” she said. “Thank you. This all happened so fast for us.” She met her fiancé’s eyes. “We just want our first moments as husband and wife to be ours.”

“My Cora and I eloped, so I can’t really say I don’t understand your thinkin’,” Sonny said, still tugging on his beard. It seemed to Genevieve that there was a possibility that Sonny wouldn’t agree to marry them after all. But, in the end, Cora gently persuaded her husband to go forward with the ceremony.

The four of them walked along the narrow path to the edge of the Stillwater River. They picked a spot where a small group of tall trees lined the bank of the river, shading them from the afternoon sun. With the sound of the water rushing over the rocks, Genevieve held her wildflowers tightly in her hands and stood before Knox, facing him, as Sonny began the intimate ceremony. Cora moved around them with her camera, capturing candid moments as her husband opened his bible to read a suitable verse from Corinthians on the patience and kindness of love.

It was difficult for Genevieve to keep her focus on Knox’s eyes. It did not escape her that she was getting ready to commit herself to him on a dare—on a wager. Her parents had been married for over thirty years and they took their marriage vows seriously. They would be so disappointed in her for taking a vow, saying that she intended to love Knox for life knowing full well that the marriage would end sooner rather than later. That thought of her parent’s disappointment and the sad expression on her mother’s face when she found out that she had missed the moment her daughter took her wedding vows almost made her turn away and bolt down the path back toward the truck.

Sonny closed his bible and added his own thoughts to the occasion. “The commitment you made here today will be the foundation upon which your marriage will be built. Don’t ever go to bed mad. Forgive each other and move on. Say I love you every day and never get too old to hold each other’s hands.”

Sonny smiled at his wife for a brief moment before he continued. “You’ve got to give each other room to grow because, in the end, it will be the two of you, standing together, facing the challenges of everyday life. If you always remember this moment and the love you have for each other right now, this sacred union will last you a lifetime and beyond.”

Cora stepped quietly forward and took the bouquet of flowers from Genevieve as Sonny prepared for the ring exchange. Knox took her hand in his and it flashed in her mind that she liked how strong, large and rough this man’s hand was. It was the hand of a working man.

“With this ring, I thee wed.” He slid the simple white gold band onto her ring finger. She detected the slightest tremble when he did so, and realized that, beneath the seemingly calm exterior he was presenting, Knox was feeling as uncertain, off balanced and flustered as she was. A split second later, it was her turn. She didn’t look up at him as she slipped his wedding band over his knuckle until it was snugly seated on his ring finger. Then Knox squeezed her hand and when she looked up into his face, he was smiling at her kindly with his eyes.

“Knox and Genevieve, you have come to this beautiful place to vow to love each other for the rest of your lives. You have exchanged rings as a symbol of this commitment.”

“Genevieve, do you take this man to be your husband? Do you promise to love him, comfort him, honor and keep him, in sickness and in health—and, forsaking all others, be faithful to him as long as you both shall live?”

It took Genevieve several seconds to make the words “I do” come out of her mouth. The moment the words finally did come out, Cora snapped a close-up photograph of her face and she hoped only that her internal turmoil wasn’t captured for everyone to see.

“I do.” When she said those words, there was a waver in her voice that she didn’t recognize. It wasn’t her way to be uncertain about anything in her life; she lived her life as she raced off-road vehicles—pedal to the metal and full steam ahead.

“Knox, do you take this beautiful woman to be your wife? Do you promise to love her, comfort her, honor and keep her, in sickness and in health—and, forsaking all others, be faithful to her as long as you both shall live?”

Knox lowered his head so she could see his eyes—eyes that were so steady and intent on her face. “I do.”

“Well, then,” Sonny said as he rolled back on his heels a bit, “by the power vested in me by the glorious State of Montana, I am tickled pink to pronounce you husband and wife. Knox, my boy, you may kiss your lovely bride.”

She couldn’t get her heart to stop beating so fast. Her chest was rising and falling in the most annoying way as Knox, still holding on to her hands, with a question in his eyes that only she understood, leaned down and lightly kissed her on the lips.

It was their first kiss; it was their only kiss.

It occurred to her in that moment, as she stood there with her eyes closed, focusing her attention on the first feel of her husband’s lips pressed gently upon hers, that she didn’t want that kiss to end.