Читать книгу His Tomboy Bride - Leanna Wilson, Leanna Wilson - Страница 10

Chapter One

With a mixture of disbelief and wariness, Billie Rae Gunther stared at her wedding gown. The Italian satin looked like a collapsed bridal cake flung across her bedroom floor. How could she wear this frilly concoction? She’d look like a child playing dress-up instead of a beautiful, blushing bride.

“Be careful,” Rosa warned. The dressmaker opened the gown and pushed the expensive material out of the way of Billie’s feet. Nervous about the outcome of this folly, Billie pointed a silk-covered toe and stepped into the mounds of fabric to have the dress fitted. A tremor of apprehension rippled through her. What if she tore a seam? Worse, what if she looked like a fool?

Wiggling her hips, Billie settled into the waist and draped the satin across her shoulders. The cool cloth felt as slippery as the catfish she’d caught in Willow’s Pond last fall. Feeling like a stuffed trout, she rocked back and forth from foot to foot.

“Hold still,” Rosa admonished.

Billie sucked in a breath. It seemed to take hours instead of seconds as Rosa’s nimble fingers fastened the long row of buttons along Billie’s spine. Worried, she slanted her gaze toward the oblong mirror angled in the corner of her childhood room and watched the slow transformation. The creamy white material hugged her frame, and the lace gave her more curves than she owned, making her look softer and more feminine than her faded Wrangler jeans and scuffed Justin boots ever did. Hope swelled inside her. Maybe she could shed her tomboy image and be the woman she’d always imagined.

Then she caught sight of her V-necked tan line standing out in the middle of her chest like an inverted scarlet letter. A wave of apprehension rolled over her. She couldn’t hide the fact she was a tomboy, a cowgirl, or good ol’ “Billie the Kid.” In the far recesses of her mind she heard Jake, her older brother, and his best friend, Nick, snickering and calling her that nickname. The memory brought a sharp, double-edged pain to her heart.

Rosa secured the veil across the top of Billie’s head with hairpins, then stepped back. Satisfied with her creation, she beamed, her wide smile splitting her coppery face. “Ah, so beautiful!” Her solid black gaze narrowed and her brow withered into a frown. “Why this face?” She lifted Billie’s chin a notch. “Why so sad?”

Billie shrugged. “I’m okay. I was thinking about Jake and...” She stopped, shaking her head, trying to shrug off her sorrow like a pesky injury. But this ache wouldn’t go away. He’d been too young, too foolish driving his truck hell-bent for leather. She couldn’t think about her brother now. Nor would she think about Nick Latham. His memory would bring a different kind of pang. He’d moved out of Bonnet, Texas, and on with his own life...without her.

No longer a kid with fanciful dreams, she was a full-grown woman of twenty-three. She drew in a confident breath and adjusted the material bunching around her shoulders. How difficult could parading around like a Barbie doll be? It couldn’t be harder than running her daddy’s ranch, juggling the finances or marrying a man she didn’t love.

Responsibility constricted her like the dress tried to cut off her circulation above her waist. She never could stay ahead of the demands on her time or bank account. Her father’s sudden death five years ago had heaped half the responsibility on her narrow shoulders. In his will, he’d left Billie and Jake the ranch, knowing their mother would never be able to take care of it on her own. Two years later Jake’s death had left her with a barnyard of unexpected debts and all the responsibility. Now, her desperation, her determination, had brought her to this—her wedding.

Reality had a sharper edge and required practical decisions. This marriage solved a truckload of problems for her. She’d face her future with the same grit that had helped her through each tragedy in her life. This time, the things she cared about wouldn’t be taken away from her. This time, she’d take the reins in her own hands and guide her own destiny.

Marriage didn’t come wrapped up in a nice, neat package with frilly ribbons and bows. Billie would not risk her heart on her fiancé or anyone else. She’d tried that once. And failed. With deep scars as proof, she’d learned once too often that love hurt. She could do without any more pain.

Rosa sniffed. “Too much sorrow for one family. Let us think of your wedding. Put on your shoes and come. Let’s not keep your mother waiting.”

Ignoring the satin pumps that looked about as comfortable as the strapless underwire bra she wore beneath her dress, Billie pulled her fancy white boots out of the closet. She hadn’t worn these since she’d gone boot-scootin’ in high school. At least the boots were comfortable.

She left her bedroom, lifting the heavy skirt out of the way, the lush satin brushing against her legs and rustling with each step. She moved past framed pictures of family vacations in the Rocky Mountains, her and Jake huddled in front of a tilted Christmas tree, and school pictures chronicling Billie’s blackened eyes, pigtails and braces. The fond memories fortified her with the courage she needed to face her future.

“Here comes the bride!” Martha Gunther sang, her voice warbling like an old-fashioned organ. Her face crinkled with a warm smile. Her blue eyes sparkled with unshed tears.

Feeling less like a bride and more like a trussed up heifer, Billie waddled into the den. Shoulders back, she gave her mother her best, most optimistic smile, the same one she used after she paid each month’s bills and counted the leftover money in the checking account.

A movement in the corner of the living room caught her eye. She squinted against the afternoon sunlight pouring through the bay window across the front of her parents’ house. The tall, dark, masculine frame had broad shoulders and a height that would put most men to shame. Her breath caught in her lungs. Had Doug, her fiancé, come early? Maybe the light distorted his size, making him larger than his normally slight, elegant build. Her groom shouldn’t be seeing her wedding dress. It was bad luck. And that was one thing she didn’t need any more of.

“Billie the Kid?” The warm, deep, masculine voice jolted her like a bolt of electricity.

Her breath whooshed out of her. For a second she felt dizzy, her world tilting off center. Nick!

Nicholas Barrett Latham stepped toward her, effectively blocking the sun slanting through the window behind him. She met his gold-flecked amber gaze. Something warm and uncomfortable, something she hadn’t experienced in years, stirred inside her. He ran his fingers through his thick chestnut hair. A grin split his chiseled, tanned features and zapped the strength right out of her knees.

“Well,” he said, rubbing his hand against his square jaw, “I’ll be damned.”

Nick wasn’t her groom, but he was bad luck, all right. She wished her dress would swallow her whole and bury her beneath the yards of lace and satin. So help her, if he laughed at her in this dress, she’d deck him. In anticipation of having to do just that, her hands curled into fists.

“Isn’t it wonderful for Nick to visit us, honey?” her mother said, hugging her own middle as if she might burst with excitement.

Billie nodded automatically. For once in her life words failed her. Or maybe for the second time. The first had been when she’d kissed Nick. She’d grown up since that hot summer day when she’d been a naive sixteen-year-old. But with Nick’s irresistible smile and curious gaze settling on her now, her insides felt mushy once again, like jelly left out of the refrigerator for too long.

“I heard you were getting married,” he said in a rumbling voice that made her stomach roll. “Had to see it for myself.”

His surprise ruffled her feathers. She met his intense gaze squarely. “Why? Is it so impossible to believe someone would want me?”

“I didn’t mean...I... No. ’Course not.” His features twisted with confusion. He stepped forward and awkwardly brushed a kiss against her cheek. “Congratulations, Billie.”

The warmth of his lips sent a surge of heat through her body. She drew in a quick, inadequate breath. Nick stood so close she could have touched him if she’d dared. She smelled his clean, spicy scent, which reminded her of the sharpness of cedar after a summer rain. Her voice caught on the words, “Welcome home, Nick.”

His hand slid around her cinched-in waist and pulled her close against his chest. She felt the hardness of his muscles, the strength in his arms, the gentleness of his words as his breath warmed her ear. “It’s good to see you again, Billie.”

His solid embrace made her feel weak as a newborn colt. She stepped back on the hem of her dress. To her chagrin, Nick steadied her with a hand under her elbow. Her heart hammered in her chest. Her breath came hard and fast, as if she’d run up a steep hill.

“How long has it been?” she asked, knowing it had been exactly two years, one month and sixteen days. She didn’t ask herself how she knew or why. She didn’t want to question whether it was because she so clearly remembered the cool, rainy spring day when she’d stood at her brother’s graveside or because Nick had been there.

“Too long,” he answered.

Knee-deep in grief at her brother’s funeral, Billie remembered Nick’s fierce hug, an awkward pat on her shoulders, a gruff, “I’m so sorry, Billie.” She’d been unable to restrain the resentment at seeing his pretty wife standing beside him. Maybe that’s why she’d been so damned determined to handle the Rocking G Ranch on her own. If she couldn’t have Nick’s love, then by God she’d have his respect. That’s why he couldn’t know she was selling out now...to marriage.

So much had changed since that rainy day. Regret swept through her. She alone bore the guilt of why Nick hadn’t visited the Gunthers since his best friend’s funeral. Instinctively she sensed Nick had changed, too. Something in his face, his eyes. A harder glint had replaced the mischievous glimmer of his youth. Feeling his gaze on her like a warm caress, her dress suddenly felt tight, the air thin, her blood thick as molasses.

“We all should have kept in touch,” Martha said, “after Jake...” She shook her head.

Sorrow darkened Nick’s eyes to a deep walnut

After Jake’s funeral he’d offered to stay and help with the ranch, but Billie had wanted—needed—to prove she could handle it as well as any man. But she hadn’t known about the money Jake had borrowed. She hadn’t known a lot of things then. It had been an uphill battle ever since to stay in operation.

Martha patted Nick’s arm as if he was her own son. “We’ve missed you.”

“I was negligent,” he said, his voice thick. “I should have come back sooner.”

Billie lifted her chin and met his questioning gaze. “We managed fine. We didn’t need any help.”

And we don’t need anything now.

A wry chuckle escaped his tense mouth. “You always could take care of things.”

Her heart lurched. She hadn’t managed very well with the ranch. Good ol’ Billie Rae—strong, capable, dependable—she’ d always prided herself on her good qualities. But did they really describe her or a well-bred stock horse?

Irritated at her own comparison, she wanted to believe Nick’s words were a compliment. But in her heart they taunted her. For a moment she wished she could melt into a helpless puddle of tears instead remaining stoic and practical in the face of adversity. But she hadn’t. She couldn’t.

More than ready for him to leave, she asked, “What brings you back here?”

“You.” Something suggestive in his tone made her toes curl under.

“Me?” Her voice squeaked.

With the swiftness of summer lightning, she remembered the burning intensity of their one shared kiss, the awareness sparking between them, the heat searing her to her very feminine core. The texture of his mouth, firm yet gentle, as rough and tempting as raw silk, had awakened her like Prince Charming had stirred Sleeping Beauty from sleep. She had suddenly been proud of her softer curves, grateful finally that she was a girl... woman.

At sixteen she’d suffered a bad case of puppy love. But it had been more, she’d realized as time had passed, as she’d matured, as the feelings had lingered and intensified. It had been real, true. From the very depths of her soul. She’d wanted to marry Nick, have his children. Loving him had outshone all her other dreams. When hit with his captivating gaze, she’d have done anything for him. Then he’d splintered a small part of her heart.

So she’d focused with laser beam precision on her hopes of becoming a vet. It hadn’t taken long for that dream to crash beneath the weight of her father’s death and be buried beneath the burden of her brother’s. Years of hard, backbreaking work and shoulder-scrunching responsibility had demolished the rest of her innocent hopes. Once she’d had grand plans for her life. None of them had come to pass. But she hadn’t given up on all of them yet.

As abruptly as she’d been set back on her heels that day when Nick had told her of his impending marriage, now again she pulled herself up short from her steamy memories. She reminded herself with a quick mental kick that she didn’t want Nick. She had other plans, plans that resurrected her dreams. Plans that didn’t include him.

The cold, wet glass cooled the skyrocketing temperature that burned inside him like a high-pitched fever. Nick felt hotter than the hundred-degree weather outside. He sipped the sweetened tea, and the ice clinked together. The ceiling fan sifted cool air over his heated skin.

Wedding! He still couldn’t believe it. Billie the Kid was really getting married. His world turned upside down as if E no longer equaled mc². He felt the foundation under him collapsing.

But Nick couldn’t concentrate on anything except Billie. And her vibrant blue eyes. Her golden hair teased her smooth, bare shoulders and made him think of things he didn’t ordinarily associate with Billie, like satin sheets on hot summer nights. Her faint tan line, outlining the opening of a work shirt, brought a smile to his heart as he remembered the rough-and-tumble girl she’d once been. And now she was all grown-up.

For the first time he noticed her very distinctive, patently feminine and too-damn-sexy curves. His “kid sister” had become a woman. A part of him was more than grateful there wasn’t an ounce of blood relation between them.

His throat went bone-dry. He coughed, uncomfortable with his blatant, sexually charged reaction to her. “Tim Cummins told me your good news. I ran into him yesterday in Houston.”

One part of the rumor had been true enough. But he still held out hope the rest had been false.

“We should have called,” Martha said, “but it’s been so rush-rush, with all the plans and everything.” She touched a trembling hand to Billie’s veil. “I wish your father could see you like this. He would have been so proud.” She turned away and sniffed again into her handkerchief.

Billie’s features contorted, the muscles along her neck flexing. Nick wondered if her father’s absence took away part of her wedding joy. Mr. Gunther wouldn’t be there to walk her down the aisle or twirl her around the dance floor. Didn’t a woman want that emotional support, those tender moments?

None of the Gunther men were alive to offer guidance to Billie. Nick knew neither of them would approve of the groom Tim Cummins had said won Billie’s hand. Nick wouldn’t, either. It had to be some mistake. The Billie he knew would be more discerning than that. That’s why he’d dropped everything, including work, and raced back to Bonnet—to make sure she knew what she was doing.

She met his gaze. A sparkle glinted in her eyes, making them look as dazzling as sapphires. One minute she looked childlike—lost, alone, bereft—and the next, she appeared ready to take on the world. Billie had always surprised him with her quick-flash change of emotions. What the hell did he know about women, anyway? They were an enigma. His divorce was a blatant reminder.

She broke the fragile silence with, “Jake would have gotten a good belly laugh about all this.”

Something familiar and warm passed between them, but a new spark ignited, something disconcerting and way too hot. Ignoring his very male reaction to her obvious feminine charms, he matched her smile with an unsteady one of his own. “You’re right. He would have.”

Then her eyes flashed. Her smile faltered. She tipped her chin higher. He recognized that old challenge.

Jake might have laughed at her all dressed up like this. But Nick couldn’t. His lungs constricted, trapping his breath. Words lodged in his throat. She looked so damn different...so grown-up...so beautiful. When had all these changes taken place? At her father’s funeral five years earlier she’d looked like a frightened child, her eyes wide, but unable to shed a tear. At Jake’s funeral two years later, she’d looked thin as a rail. She’d stood strong for her mother, brave, controlling her trembling lip.

He’d missed the gradual transition from girlhood to a full-fledged woman. Somehow she seemed softer than he’d expected, vulnerable, yet he knew she was tough enough to handle a Texas cattle ranch on her own. Still, a trace of that uncertain, freckle-faced girl could still be seen in her wild, blue gaze.

“Jake would have been a fool not to see how beautiful you are,” he managed.

Uncertainty darkened her eyes to the turbulence of a stormy sea. She glanced down at the yards of lace swirling around her. “I feel like I got walloped with confectioners’ sugar.”

Nick chuckled.

“You’re a lovely bride,” Martha reassured her daughter.

“Lovely” was a simple word that didn’t do Billie justice. She was a vision. The dress pinched in her waist, accented her full breasts, showed off her honey tan.

As if the years scrolled backward, he remembered the boldness of the kiss she’d given him. He could feel her creamy-smooth lips seasoned with innocence brushing his. It had taken every ounce of strength to set her away from him then. He’d belonged to someone else. And Billie had been way too young. But now, when the four-year difference between their ages had shrunk in importance, other things stood between them. She belonged to someone else. He never intended to marry again.

Dragging his gaze away from the bride, he set the iced tea on a crystal coaster. He stuck his hands into his pockets and reminded himself of why he’d come here. As a defensive maneuver, he pictured Billie in pigtails and braces with more scrapes and bruises than a prizefighter.

“Step up on the footstool,” Rosa instructed, her hands fluttering around the shimmering white skirt that looked like it had been sprinkled with fairy dust.

Billie turned and took a step. Her foot caught in the hem. She wobbled and tilted off center. Her arms flung wide, seeking balance. “Ah, damn.”

Nick reached out and caught her to him. His hand slipped around her tiny waist. Her body collided with his. He felt the impact of her full breasts against his chest. He sucked in a breath and drew in her enticing scent, something mysterious and exotic, like jasmine. Far too tempting for his own good.

A shiver rippled through her and it echoed in his body. His heart thudded against his rib cage. His insides tightened as if he walked an I-beam on the fiftieth floor. These new sensations aroused by Billie caught him off guard, kept him off balance. Her nearness jumbled his thoughts. What was wrong with him? Had he gone without a woman for too long? Since his divorce he’d focused on work, expanding his construction business. Women, he’d decided, were as welcome as bad weather to a construction site. And Billie Rae Gunther was like a hurricane to his senses.

He had an urge to let her fall on her rump, as he might have if she were an obnoxious twelve-year-old. Then he could clear his mind, stay focused, make sure she’d made the right decision and leave. Instead, against his better judgment, he held her tight against him, his hands secure on her waist. In a thick voice, he asked, “You okay?”

“Yeah. My boot got caught.” She pushed away from his shoulder and stood firmly on her own two feet, the way she always had, never leaning on anyone, never showing any weakness. She carried the heavy load of responsibility she’d been left with well. Nick admired her for her ability to withstand adversity.

Two years ago he’d understood her pride dictated her rejection of his offer to help with the Rocking G. But should he have insisted? Or had he only felt the barb that she no longer needed or wanted him? Regret shamed him. He knew he shouldn’t have stayed away.

“Boots! Where are your wedding shoes? They are perfect for the dress,” Rosa was saying, her brow wrinkling with concern.

“Yeah, but you don’t have to stand around in them for hours at the wedding and reception,” Billie complained.

“It’s only for one day.” Martha soothed her daughter. “The right shoes are so important”

“Why?” Billie asked. “Who’s going to see them under this skirt?” She lifted the hem, giving Nick a glimpse of one silk-covered foot rubbing across the top of the other.

“Everyone,” her mother answered. “You’ll have to lift your skirt so Doug can remove your garter to throw to the single men.”

Nick gritted his teeth. Doug. It had to be a mistake. The groom couldn’t be Doug “Blockhead” Schaeffer!

“Besides,” Martha continued, “you’ll have so many other things to think about you won’t even notice your feet. You’ll be floating on cloud nine. That’s how I was when your daddy and I wed.” A wistful look came into her soft blue eyes.

“I’m sure I will, Mother.”

Had Nick heard a note of doubt in Billie’s voice? Or had he only wanted to?

Scowling, he watched her maneuver toward the step stool in her oversize skirt. The heavy material rustled and swayed, emphasizing the movement of her hips. He stayed close enough to offer assistance if she tripped again, but far enough not to breathe in her secretive scent or reach out to feel the silky strands of her shoulder-length blond hair. Hiking up the skirt to her knees, she climbed onto the footstool, unassisted. Nick caught a better view of shimmery hose covering slender legs.

“Who’s the lucky groom?” he asked, averting his gaze and crossing his arms over his chest.

“Doug Schaeffer.”

Something irrational and dangerous exploded inside Nick. He thought he’d prepared himself to hear that name, but obviously not enough. “Are you nuts?”

She propped her hands on her hips and gave him a stubborn I-dare-you-to-say-another-word stare. “Yes.”

He managed to close his mouth and rein in his confusion... irritation...contempt. How could Billie possibly fall for that bastard? What could she see in him? Of all the men to win Billie! Smug and arrogant were two of Dong’s best traits. The heir to Schaeffer Enterprises should never have been a contender.

He remembered Doug, flaunting his daddy’s bucks, cruising around in a fancy convertible that probably had the same price tag as the house Nick had been raised in. He’d been too rich for his own good, too self-assured, too...too much. Had he overwhelmed Billie with all that glitter and gold? If so, then Billie wasn’t the girl he remembered. Maybe now she was more like his ex-wife.

“Where is Schaeffer?” Nick asked, his teeth clenched. Billie’s father never would have welcomed Schaeffer into the family. And Jake would have booted his butt across the Texas border. Nick would settle this quick and take great pleasure in shoving Schaeffer out of the picture.

“Oh, the groom should not be here to see the bride dressed in her gown.” Rosa shook her head. “Very bad luck.”

“Better than if Schaeffer saw her undressed,” Nick mumbled, his scowl deepening.

Rosa and Martha paid no attention to him. They concentrated on tucking and pinning pieces of the dress to Billie’s long, lithe form.

He wondered then if the bride and groom had been...intimate, if Schaeffer had held Billie, naked in his arms. A cold clamp tightened around Nick’s spine. He ground his teeth at the idea of Doug Schaeffer touching Billie, kissing her, making love to her. A headache twisted through his skull like steel screws digging into his scalp.

“Doug’s working,” Billie answered. The healthy glow across her cheeks brightened and made Nick imagine her lips swollen from kisses, her skin flushed, her hair tousled from lovemaking.

His hands balled into fists. “work was never in Schaeffer’s vocabulary.”

“He’s running Schaeffer Enterprises.” Irritation made her snap the words. She crossed her arms over her chest, pushing her breasts higher until the soft mounds almost spilled out of the scooped neckline.

“I bet old man Schaeffer’s still pulling the strings.” Nick turned and drained the glass of iced tea as if it was a shot of whiskey. Unfortunately, it didn’t have the same numbing effect.

“Didn’t your father start that construction company you run, Nick?” Billie taunted.

Her barb hit its mark. He swung around to throw back another sharp retort, but her smug look killed it on his lips. He wouldn’t give her the satisfaction.

Martha uncrossed her daughter’s arms so the dress would hang right Rosa clucked her tongue and examined the hem.

“I didn’t have any choice,” he said finally, his voice cracking with suppressed anger. “My dad needed me. There were contracts pending, signed agreements that had to be met. Dad was injured. He didn’t have anyone to rely on...but me.” Billie had to understand that kind of responsibility. She’d done the same with the ranch. “Doug works for his daddy because he can’t do anything else.”

“How would you know?” Billie’s jaw squared in that old familiar way.

“You two,” Martha grumbled, pins stuck between her teeth. “Sounds like old times.”

“Then why doesn’t Doug do whatever he wants?” Nick asked, ignoring Billie’s mother.

“He is.” Billie smirked. “He’s marrying me.”

Touché. The muscles along Nick’s shoulders tensed, pinching the nerve endings like steel clamps. Her quick defense of Doug showed Nick he’d have to take another course. Irritating her wouldn’t help. Stroking his chin as Billie’s father had often done when confronted with one of his kid’s problems, Nick said, “What are Doug’s big plans for the future? Live off his healthy trust fund? Then what?”

“He has... We have plans. Lots of them. But I don’t see that it’s any business of yours, Nick Latham. You’re not my father...or brother.” Her voice deepened, a husky quality emphasizing her turbulent emotions. “You’re not even family.”

That hit another nerve. A raw one.

As if he’d taken a direct right hook to the jaw, he stepped back. His gaze locked with Billie’s. In that moment he knew she was a grown woman, capable of making her own decisions and mistakes. He’d have to let her make this one on her own. But he didn’t have to stay and watch.

“Billie Rae Gunther,” Martha snapped, “you apologize this minute.”

Nick met Billie’s gaze, saw the regret, the pain inside her reflecting his own. He hadn’t come here to argue. He’d come to help a girl who’d once been like a little sister. But that person no longer existed.

“She doesn’t have to.” He stepped toward the woman who’d been like a mother to him. “Billie’s right I’m intruding.” He gently kissed the older woman’s cheek. “I’ll come back later. Before the weekend’s over. So we can catch up.”

Shaking her head, Martha bent and pinned another part of Billie’s hem. “It’s just like when y’all were kids. Bickering and carrying on. How did Jake ever put up with the two of you?”

“He didn’t,” Billie said.

Nick caught the mischievous look in her eye and tension eased out of his body like air out of a balloon. “That’s right. He used to lock you in the barn.”

“Or toolshed,” she added with a tight laugh.

“Not a bad idea.” Maybe he’d give it a try. Let her stew until she came to her senses. Tempted to do just that, he wondered who would let her out now. He’d once been her rescuer. Not anymore. Was Schaeffer her knight in shining armor? His gut tightened. Schaeffer had never thought of anyone but himself. Shaking off his anger and concern. Nick reminded himself that Billie wasn’t his responsibility. She never had been.

With a soft, reluctant sigh, he turned away.

“Nick...” The soft lilt of Billie’s voice caught him off guard. He heard the rustle of her dress and a soft curse.

Turning back, he watched her hobble toward him.

Chagrin darkening her eyes to a deep blue, she said, “I’m sorry. You are family. It’s just been a long time since we’ve seen you. And the wedding has me all stirred up.”

Martha nodded. “Very emotional.”

Billie rolled her eyes and compressed her lips into a thin line. Had she matured more than he’d thought? Billie the Kid had never refrained from saying anything that was on her mind or in her heart. But she’d never cried. Not even when she’d fallen off a horse and separated her shoulder. She’d never apologized, either. Not even when she’d run away from home at the age of seven and scared the living daylights out of her family...and Nick.

Instead of relying on tears, she’d fought tooth and nail. She’d buried her emotions at her father’s funeral, acting brave and strong for her mother. He’d seen the need to grieve at her brother’s burial. But again, she’d suppressed it. Maybe falling in love had tapped into those hidden emotions, pulling them loose and helping her reach her full potential as a woman.

But with Doug Schaeffer? He held his tongue. This wasn’t the time or place to challenge Billie about her choice of a groom. He’d spoken out of turn earlier. What would he have said if someone had bad-mouthed his bride? Actually, he wished someone had. It would have saved him a load of grief. But he wouldn’t have listened then, and he doubted Billie would listen now.

“I understand,” Nick said. “I’ve got bad timing.” As usual.

“No, it’s fate.” Martha’s cheeks dimpled and her gaze shifted between Nick and the bride-to-be. “You are the answer to my prayers. We need you to help us with the wedding.”

Great. He wanted no part of it. But how could he refuse? His love and concern for the Gunthers carved a deep groove in his heart.

“Whatever you need,” he said, trying to manage a convincing smile. “What can I do?”

“Billie and I were discussing this just last week,” Martha said. “Now that I think about it, you’d be perfect Since you’ve been like a big brother to her and a son to me.”

“Mother.” Billie gave her a warning look. “What are you saying?”

Martha’s gaze narrowed, then a grin split her face. “Nick, you should give away the bride.”

Give her away? He stared first at Martha, then his gaze flicked to Billie. How could he give her away? When all he wanted was to keep her for himself.

That thought hit him like a demolition ball. He crushed it with common sense. He didn’t want marriage, love or Billie the Kid Gunther. Keeping Billie for himself was a ridiculous notion. Marriage was not for him. Not anymore. Not since his had failed. His ex had made it abundantly clear that he didn’t have what it takes to be married. He didn’t understand the wants and needs of a woman. And he probably never would. He wouldn’t risk his heart again.

But he could make sure Billie wasn’t making a mistake. He owed Mr. Gunther and Jake that much. Before he left Bonnet, he’d make damn sure Billie loved Doug Schaeffer and vice versa. No matter how distasteful it seemed to Nick. For he knew the heartache of making the wrong choice. He wanted to spare Billie that much pain.

Giving away the bride gave him a responsibility... and maybe the excuse he needed to stay. Being a part of the wedding party would give him access to the bride and groom, to better evaluate if they were making the wrong decision. If they were, then he wouldn’t hesitate to step in and break it up...as a big brother.