The Accidental Bride (14 page)

“Thanks,” she said after she downed the pills.

Bed. That's all she wanted. But she might not get another chance to talk to him without Olivia nearby. It was humiliating enough to admit her financial crisis without her daughter knowing too.

“Travis, we need to talk.”

“Let's get you settled first.”

She followed him to her room, where he pulled back the bedding. “I can settle myself.”

“No doubt.” He set the pill bottle and water on her table as she lowered her body onto the bed and propped her foot.

She stifled a yawn. “We need to talk about money.”

“Tomorrow.”

If only it could wait. But the bank was starting foreclosure proceedings as they spoke.

She choked back her pride. “I need to pay the mortgage soon.” Like three months ago. “I'm . . . a little behind.”

Travis pulled the covers over her. She pushed them back down.

“Relax. I took care of it this afternoon. Went into the bank—you're all paid up. The electric's paid up too. I set up a joint account, and if you tell me where your bills are, I'll get those in the mail tomorrow.”

“I can pay my own bills.” Okay, so she couldn't really
pay
her own bills, but she wasn't so useless she couldn't sit down with a checkbook and calculator. “I'm not helpless, you know.”

He didn't deserve her ire. She should be more grateful. It just rankled to need his money. She'd never get out of this with her dignity intact.

He smiled just a little. “Don't know anyone less helpless than you, Shay.”

She had mixed feelings about the joint account. What if she got used to this? When he was gone, the money would go too.

“You don't need to open your wallet like that.”

“We're married, after all.”

“Well, it's bound to be all over town by now, what with you setting up bank accounts.”

His grin broadened. “Fine by me. Can't wait to show off my new bride this weekend.”

She nearly groaned. Was it just her, or did her foot seem suddenly too wrecked to even think about leaving the house?

He flipped off the lamp. “Sleep tight.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” Like she was going to do any sleeping at all with him all stretched out on her couch a mere ten feet away.

17

W
hy aren't you dressed?” Travis asked as he entered the house.

Shay took in his form, his nice yoked shirt tucked into the narrow waistband of his clean jeans, where a trophy buckle gleamed.

“I am dressed.”

“You're wearing pj's to the Fourth of July Festival?”

Shay shifted her foot on the ottoman. “Who said I'm going?”

Travis looked away, offering his profile. The afternoon light filtered through the window and flickered on his clenched jaw. “I get it, Shay. I do.” There was some look in his eyes that conflicted with the sharp tone of his voice. “You don't want to be seen with me, but you've been—”

“I have a broken—”

“—hiding in this house all week so you don't have to—”

“I am
not
hiding.”

“—face our adoring public. But you can't hole up here for five months.”

“It hurts.”

“You've been wheeling all over the house on that thing.”

Her breath heaved. Her foot did hurt, but she couldn't deny she'd been up and around. A lot. There were things to do. He was already taking care of the ranch, she wasn't letting him do her laundry and cleaning too.

“I'm tired of explaining to everyone why my wife has yet to make an appearance. They're gonna think I buried you out back or have you stuffed in the attic.”

“Ridiculous.”

“Seriously.” His jaw twitched. “I want you to go with me today.”

It wasn't the foot and he knew it. Why was facing everyone so hard? Harder than a broken foot.

“Not up to it yet,” she said. “All the people, all the questions. Pretending our marriage is real . . .”

“It
is
real.”

Why did he have to be so literal? “You know what I mean.”

“I've already answered the questions. All you have to do is show up on my arm.” His voice had quieted. A lock of hair fell over his forehead. “Is that so hard?”

The look in his gray eyes . . . cloudy with a chance of pain. She'd hurt his feelings. Seeing him standing there, all masculine and . . . built—she sometimes forgot he had feelings.

Well, this wasn't her fault. This whole marriage thing had been his idea.

“Olivia's waiting outside. She'll be disappointed if you don't go. And you have to face it sometime. Everyone'll be there. You can get it all over with at once.”

There would be a lot going on with the festivities. People would be distracted. Maybe they'd hardly notice she was with Travis.

“Fine.” She lowered her foot and shot him a look just so he knew she wasn't happy. “Give me twenty minutes.”

The smile on Shay's face felt as fake as the stitched grins on Miss Lucy's dolls. No questions, my foot.
How long has this been going on? Were you corresponding with Travis when he was in Texas? How did you
keep such a secret?

Evening had arrived, and the smell of fried pork and funnel cakes filled the town square. A country-and-western tune blared from the distant stage. Friends and families were spread out across the broad expanse of lawn, crowded around picnic tables and checkered tablecloths. Olivia had taken off with Maddy hours ago, and Shay and Travis hadn't seen the girls since.

They'd been lucky enough to score a picnic table on the town square. At least she'd thought it was luck when Ida Mae and Vern, friends of Miss Lucy's, waved them over twenty minutes earlier.

Now she wasn't so sure. The older woman had been waxing poetic about the wedding reenactment like it was Shay's Cinderella moment. Shay avoided Travis's eyes, wished he weren't sitting across from her.

“And, oh my, that kiss . . .” Ida Mae fanned her pudgy cheeks. “I just knew it was real. I looked right over at Vern and said, ‘Vern, that kiss was for real!' I did, just ask him.”

“She did,” Vern said.

Memories of the kiss surfaced, and Shay felt her face warm.
Do
not look
.

She took the last bite of her sandwich. Travis was probably eating up every minute of this bunk. Enjoying her misery.
Do. Not. Look
.

She looked.

His lips twitched, and his eyes sparkled like the fireworks that would go off later on the town square. He took a bite of his sandwich, holding her gaze.

You're enjoying this, aren't you, McCoy?

Every minute
, his eyes replied.

“You two always did know how to light up a room,” Ida Mae said. “Isn't that something, you being back together. Just goes to show true love never dies. I always say that, don't I, Vern?”

“She does.”

“And there is just something about that first love, you know, everyone says so . . .”

Shoot me now
.

“The feelin's are so strong, and you got all those hormones humming through your veins . . .” Her jowls shook as she nodded. “Remember that, Vern? All those feelin's?”

“Yep.”

Any minute now the woman was going to bring up the past. Shay's hands went clammy in her lap, and she looked around for an escape.

“I can see them in you two clear as a bell, just clear as a bell, always have. I was so surprised when y'all didn't elope. I was there when you stepped off that bus in that pretty little gown, remember, Shay? I took your hand, pulled you right into Pappy's Market, and called your daddy for you—”

Shay popped to her feet, scrambled for the crutches she'd graduated to. “I have to go. The pie bake-off . . .”

Travis abandoned his sandwich and stood. “Right. The bake-off. Pies.” He smiled at Ida Mae and Vern. “Thank y'all for sharing your table.”

“Our pleasure, kiddos. Best of luck to y'all,” Ida Mae called.

Shay struggled across the uneven ground. Travis tried to help, but she shook off his hand.

By the time they finally reached the boardwalk, perspiration dotted her forehead. Her crutches thumped on the planks, interrupted by the step of her good foot. The sun had sunk behind the mountains, and twilight was falling like a hazy curtain.

“You took the bus?” Travis asked.

“How'd you think I got home?”

“I didn't know—”

“That's right, you didn't.” He hadn't thought about her at all. Didn't know the first thing about love.

“Why didn't your dad come?”

She gave a harsh laugh. “He said I'd managed a way to Cody and I could manage my own way back. They didn't speak to me for weeks. Wouldn't even let me back in the house. I lived with Miss Lucy for three months, McCoy.”

She was just getting warmed up. “And did you realize, while you were busy turning yellow, that you had my belongings in the back of your truck? That I had not a stitch of clothes other than the gown on my back? I had no money, nothing, did you realize that? Did you know I had to beg a stranger for bus fare to get me home?”

He pulled her around a corner, away from the crowded walk. They came to a stop in the long narrow alley between the post office and Pappy's Market. So close to where she'd been unceremoniously deposited that day.

Shay's breath came fast and hard, her hands clenching the handles of the crutches. Travis stood too close, and she fixed her eyes on the pearly buttons of his plaid shirt.

“I'm so sorry.”

She could tell he meant it, but it would've been real nice to hear it sooner, like fourteen years ago when she thought he didn't give a flying fig.

“Shay, look at me.”

He tipped her chin up, and she let him, though she was sure sparks were shooting from her eyes. What he'd done was inexcusable, and to wait so long to acknowledge her feelings was worse.

“I wish I could do something. I wish I could make it up to you.”

He had all kinds of regret in his eyes. That stubborn lock of hair protruded from under his hat, falling across his forehead and tangling with his lashes. His eyes were bold, almost burning her with intensity.

She lowered her gaze, following the straight line of his nose. A fine layer of stubble covered his upper lip and jaw. Her fingers twitched with the desire to feel its roughness against her skin.

The familiarity of him made it way too easy to slip right back into their old roles.

Drat the man. He was too darn handsome for his own good.

She was suddenly weary. So tired. Today had been wearing. She closed her eyes and leaned against the wood siding.

“We should get you off your feet. Let's find a seat for the fireworks.”

The thought of more people, more questions, was overwhelming. “I want to go home, Travis. I'm so tired . . .” Of being married. Of people staring. Of fighting the pull of Travis McCoy.

“I have the perfect spot. No people, just wide-open sky. You can lie down and watch in peace. I promise.”

Like she'd get any rest with Travis stretched out beside her. Sleep had been nothing but fitful since his arrival. Maybe that's why she was so worn out.

“Come on, Shay . . . I haven't seen Moose Creek's display for years. I've missed it.”

At the tone in his voice, she opened her eyes and fell right into his.
I've missed you
, they seemed to say.

“What d'ya say? I'll call Wade and ask them to bring Olivia home after the show.”

Wasn't like Shay could drive herself home. “Fine, whatever.”

Several minutes later they were pulling into her long drive. “I thought we were—”