A Cowboy's Woman (17 page)

Read A Cowboy's Woman Online

Authors: Cathy Gillen Thacker

BOOK: A Cowboy's Woman
12.16Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
Shane stared at the five hundred or so white folding chairs. Many of them filled. Even more people standing around. He released a long breath. “Looks like there's more than a reception planned here, doesn't it?”
Greta's heart sank like a stone. “Looks like a ceremony, too.” Beginning to panic, Greta gripped his arm even more tightly. “I don't think I can go through with this.”
Now that he'd scoped out the situation, Shane didn't seem half as upset as she was by the elaborate goingson around them. “Sure you can,” he told her confidently.
Unable to figure out why he wasn't more upset—after all, Shane liked being backed into a corner even less than she did—Greta protested. “Shane...”
He leaned over, wrapped a comforting arm about her shoulders, and kissed her cheek. “Just trust me, Greta. It'll be fine.”
As soon as the vehicle stopped beneath the canopy leading to the front porch, the doors to the limo were yanked open. Shane's three brothers—all wearing tuxes—were ready and waiting. As was Dani Lockhart. And two of Greta's other dear friends, who were all—not surprisingly—carrying bridesmaid bouquets and
dressed in very beautiful full-length silk dresses. The photographer and videographer aimed their cameras at them as they emerged from the limo. Greta shook her head at her friends. “I can't believe you didn't clue me in on all this,” she scolded.
“Hey, we were sworn to secrecy.” Dani spoke for the group.
“Well, you all certainly kept your end of the bargain,” Greta said.
“Hey, didn't anyone ever tell you you're not supposed to see the bride before the wedding?” Jackson McCabe demanded.
“I don't think that applies when you're already married,” Shane said, as his brothers took him in hand and hustled him away.
Greta stared at Shane's retreating back as she was ushered toward the ranch house. “Where are they taking him?”
“Off to get ready for the ceremony,” Dani replied, leading the way. “Which is where you're going, too.”
“I am ready,” Greta declared over the tumultuous beat of her heart.
“You don't have a veil on.”
“That's because I don't have one,” Greta replied, unable to think of a single way out of this.
“Yes, you do.” Dani patted her arm reassuringly. “Jenna has it upstairs.”
Greta was hustled up the stairs, where Lilah McCabe and Tillie were waiting. They both looked stunning in mother-of-the-bride dresses. Lacey and Josie, the other recently wed McCabe brides, were there to offer their best wishes and assistance, and were stunningly attired, too.
“We didn't think you and Shane would ever feel really
married unless you had a real wedding,” Tillie explained patiently.
“So we figured,” Lilah continued happily, handing Greta a beautiful bouquet of yellow roses, “as long as we were throwing the reception, why not throw the wedding, too.”
“This is your something new.” A smiling Jenna Lockhart stepped behind Greta and attached the waist-length veil and blusher, via very thin Velcro strips, to the satin tiara Greta had already laced through her upswept hair.
“Your something old.” Tillie's eyes shimmering with hope and tenderness, she fastened a heart-shaped diamond necklace that had belonged to her grandmother around Greta's neck.
“Your something borrowed.” Lilah gave Greta a lacy white handkerchief that Shane's mother had carried, tucked into the sleeve of her gown, on her wedding day.
“And something blue.” Dani waved a frilly blue garter then knelt as she and the other two bridesmaids ever so gently gathered up Greta's voluminous satin skirt and petticoat and helped Greta slip it on. “You're all set.” And everything was just as it should have been. Except one thing.
He didn't love her.
And she didn't love him.
Or did she?
Down below, the strains of the orchestra on the lawn could be heard, and Greta understood the term
consequences
as never before. She had to call a halt or make this real. And practical or not, she knew what her heart wanted her to do.
Bart Wilson appeared in the doorway. “It's time,
honey,” he announced, his demeanor proud and unflinching, his eyes misty with sentiment.
Feeling as though she'd been hit by a truck, knowing there was no turning back, that the time to stop this train had long passed, Greta clasped her bouquet tightly in her hands. Hoping like heck Shane would know what to do to get them out of this, she headed for her father.
 
“BLUSHER OVER YOUR FACE or behind your head?” the bridal consultant whom Tillie and Lilah had hired to help throw things together asked Greta as she waited, just inside the house, to take her turn up the aisle.
“Over my face,” Greta murmured, knowing if her heart beat any harder it was going to leap right out of her chest.
“You feeling okay, honey?” Bart asked.
Greta nodded, aware her knees were trembling. “Just a little nervous.”
“Me, too.” Bart patted her arm and smiled before continuing thickly, “It's not every day I give my only daughter away, you know.”
Greta knew. Worse, she not only looked like a real bride, she felt like one. And it wasn't just the fact she was actually going through a real wedding ceremony, albeit not of her own choosing or prior knowledge. Thanks to the way he kept kissing her, she was even beginning to feel—in her most unguarded moments—that she and Shane had a chance to make this sham marriage of theirs a real one. But it wasn't going to happen. And she didn't want to delude herself into thinking it would.
Yet, as she walked up the aisle to the hauntingly beautiful and emotional strains of Johann Pachélbel's “Canon in D” and looked first at the faces of their families
and friends, and then at Shane, standing so proudly at the other end of the aisle, it was all she could do not to be swept up by the moment... to believe that, if they only tried hard enough, made their, vows real enough, they could take the passion they felt for each other and the circumstances that had brought them together and turn it all into a real marriage. And that feeling—that the impossible might just, with a little love and a little luck, be possible—only intensified as her father stood with her before the minister to give his only daughter away at the altar.
 
SHANE HADN'T EXPECTED any of the hoopla awaiting him and Greta, but he'd thought he could handle it nevertheless. He thought he could get through it without involving his emotions or altering his plans to stay with Greta as long as they both deemed necessary—or even pleasurable—and then go their separate ways, never to be bothered by familial matchmaking again. And he managed just fine until he saw Greta walking down the aisle on her father's arm. Then suddenly this getting-married business became very real.
And to his growing chagrin, it stayed real through their vows, through the exchange of rings, the lighting of the unity candle and the extinguishing of their own individual candles. It stayed real through the kiss and the walk back down the aisle and the sit-down dinner that followed. But never, Shane realized ruefully, did it seem more genuine than during the champagne toasts.
Chapter Nine
J
ohn McCabe went first. For the first time all week, he looked proud as could be of his son. Shane wasn't sure if he was happy or aggravated to discover his seemingly solid marriage was the reason. As much as he yearned for his father's approval, the thinking behind it put a pressure on him he didn't need. Things between Greta and him were muddled enough as it was.
“You've pulled off a lot of stunts, son,” John raised his glass of champagne to Greta and Shane, “but running off and marrying Greta is one we approve of....”
To Shane's increasing discomfort, Bart Wilson followed, his own mood sunny and optimistic. Whatever reservations he'd had earlier in the week seemed to have faded in light of the “appropriateness” of the match.
“Greta's always been an independent—minded young woman—to the point where her mother and I were both beginning to think she wouldn't ever settle down and get married and have a family. But—” Bart winked at his new son-in-law in man-to-man fashion “—if anyone can tame our Greta and help her settle down, it's you, Shane.”
Travis, the best man, lifted his glass next. He was the most cynical of all four McCabe sons. Shane could see
that beneath the surface geniality, Travis still had his private doubts about Shane and Greta and the reason for their nuptials. Clearly he didn't think saving Greta's reputation or proving a point about the consequences of matchmaking merited a lasting marriage. And though Shane would have agreed with that sentiment wholeheartedly days before, now he wasn't nearly as sure what should be done. He'd asked Greta for at least a few more weeks together and she'd agreed. Now, after they'd made love, he found himself wanting to continue their marriage. But was it fair to Greta? She deserved a lot more than a temporary thing—they both did.
“Maybe it has something to do with being the baby of the family,” Travis quipped with a facetious grin, “but Shane's always hated coming in last at anything.” Glass raised, Travis shook his head. “So I should've known when our other two brothers got married to such warm, wonderful, all-fired pretty women that Shane wouldn't be far behind in settling down with his own.”
Competition had nothing to do with it, Shane thought, incensed. He'd married Greta to have a little fun and prove a point, that was all. But it was clear not one of all the people there, including Greta, really believed it. They all thought he was competing with his brothers. And they didn't automatically see that as a bad thing. To them, all four of the McCabe brothers should want to get married and settle down, pronto, so John and Lilah could have some grandkids.
Dani Lockhart, the maid of honor, went last. “If there's one thing Greta's always lusted after, besides Shane—” Dani paused as everyone laughed “—it's adventure. And having gone to high school with this handsome fella—” Dani angled her thumb at Shane and gave him an admiring look “—I know that if any man can
make things unpredictable and exciting enough to keep Greta thoroughly engaged in this marriage, it'd be Shane McCabe. So, I'd like everyone to lift their glass and wish this most unexpected and handsome and wonderful and fun couple long life and happiness.” Her eyes brimming with happiness, Dani toasted Shane and Greta, then finished huskily, “To the bride and groom.”
“To the bride and groom,” everyone in the room echoed.
Shane and Greta clinked glasses, linked arms and sipped. As their glances meshed and held, Shane found that Greta seemed to be as caught up in the festivities as everyone else. It should have alarmed him to discover that she was beginning to take their impetuous union seriously, too. But it didn't. In fact, it made him feel damn good to know they were really married now. That it was, in fact, so official now in the eyes of the Lord and the community that “no man might ever put it asunder.” So official it would be heck to undo. And the more time he had with Greta, the better the chances she would want to just stay married, too.
The cutting of the cake followed. Then, as the strains of “The Way You Look Tonight” began, their first dance as husband and wife. Able to see how much the emotional nature of the festivities were getting to her, Shane tugged Greta newlywed close and whispered playfully in her ear, “Not to worry—we're almost through the part where we make a complete spectacle of ourselves.”
“I know,” Greta whispered back, cuddling closer.
As they swayed to the romantic music, Shane delighted in the feel of her head on his shoulder, her body so closely entwined with his. Maybe it was the way she had her silky, blond curls twisted up on the back of her
head, showing off the slender, graceful neck, or the scent of her perfume, maybe it was the gorgeous, damn-near-ethereal way she looked in her wedding gown and satin tiara, but right now all he wanted to do was pick her up and take her back to his ranch so they could start honeymooning together in earnest. Right now all he wanted was to kiss and hold her and tell her everything that was in his heart and soul, and hear everything that was in hers. And if the way she was suddenly looking up at him was any indication, she wanted it, too. More than anything in the world.
“This is all so real,” Greta said as their eyes met and held.
“I know.” Shane regarded her soberly as their dance together ended. If ever there was a time to tell her how he was beginning to feel, it was now. “In fact, later, I'd like to talk to you about that.”
To Shane's pleasure, Greta looked as if she would like to hear more about his plans to do just that. But too late, the music was already swelling as the orchestra leader announced the father-daughter dance. Loath to let her go, even for a minute, Shane dutifully took Greta by the hand and led her over to Bart. And while the orchestra played an oh-so-romantic version of “It's a Wonderful World” she went into her father's arms for the first and—unless things got revised again between them soon, as he hoped—maybe last time as an officially married woman.
Shane reclaimed her when the orchestra leader invited everyone there to join Greta and Shane on the dance floor that had been erected on the lawn. And it was at that moment Greta spotted them. “I don't believe it,” Greta murmured, as she saw Bonnie Sue Baxter, Shane's ex-fiancée and the woman who had cuckolded him, join
hands with Beau Chamberlain and tug him onto the dance floor. “Bonnie Sue and Beau are both here!”
Shane lifted a brow. “You didn't know?”
“No.” But
he
obviously knew. “When did you find out they were here?”
Shane shrugged, unconcerned. “I noticed them both come in during the prelude, when I was standing up there, waiting for the wedding to get started. They weren't together, though.”
“Bonnie Sue probably sought Beau out.” Otherwise there was no explanation, because Beau hadn't known about Bonnie Sue Baxter, never mind her history with Shane. Besides, it wasn't the kind of thing he would do. He didn't go in for juvenile tricks. And pairing the two of them together—at her and Shane's wedding celebration—would be a juvenile trick.
“Jealous?” Shane lifted a brow.
Greta shook her head, her unease increasing. “It's not that.” But she had no further opportunity to explain because Bonnie Sue and Beau were dancing closer. The next thing she knew, Bonnie Sue was tapping Greta on the shoulder, cutting in.
“Hope you don't mind, honey,” Bonnie Sue said. “But I want to dance with your hubby.”
Beau tapped Shane. “I want a chance to dance with Greta, too.”
Just that quickly she and Shane were separated. Beau danced a stunned Greta off in one direction. Bonnie Sue danced an impassive-faced Shane off in another. Beau's regard was that of a best guy friend and big brother. “Care to bring me up to speed here?” Beau asked.
No, Greta thought, embarrassed, but she'd better before the straight-talking Beau privately recounted what she had said to him earlier. “Our mothers told us they
were planning a reception for us to celebrate the nuptials. We didn't know about the wedding ceremony part of it.”
“The question is,” Beau queried lightly, his concern for her evident, “why did you go through with it?”
Good question. Up to the moment they'd actually said their I dos again, Greta would've said they were bullied and backed into it. Had that been the case, the second recitation of their wedding vows would have felt as scary but meaningless as the first. Except this time their vows weren't meaningless. This time she'd found herself meaning them with all her heart and soul. How crazy was that? Knowing she wasn't ready to voice any of that out loud, Greta merely shrugged and said, “We didn't want to hurt their feelings.”
Beau continued to guide her around the dance floor with movie-star smoothness. Quirking a disapproving brow, he predicted, “When they find out the truth about this sham, they're going to be even more hurt and disillusioned.”
Maybe they won't ever have to know, Greta thought, then immediately wondered where that thought had come from. “Did you say anything to Bonnie Sue about what I told you?” she demanded uneasily, aware her palm had begun to sweat.
“No. But it was clear that unlike everyone else here tonight she still thinks this is just another one of Shane's legendary escapades. And that's all it'll ever be, to her, despite all this.” Beau inclined his head at the festivities around them, then frowned as he looked at Bonnie Sue and Shane, who were every bit as deeply engrossed in intimate conversation as Beau and Greta were.
Beau continued, “She's just waiting for the grand finale that'll bring it all to an end. She'd thought—
hoped—it would be this wingding tonight. That the two of you would refuse to say your vows or stage some big funny scene that would get everyone off the hook, including your folks, and make it look as if it had been planned all along. For some sort of fanny, wonderful, ultimately helpful-to-everyone reason. Apparently, all of Shane's previous escapades always ended up bringing about some desperately wanted but previously thought-to-be-impossible change.”
“That's true,” Greta murmured thoughtfully. “I never thought about it that way, but every time he pulled a prank, it was because of some problem or other that couldn't be solved by way of regular means. There was always some underlying situation that was brought to light. Attention garnered. A solution brought to the fore.” The time he'd masqueraded as a state board of education auditor had helped illuminate a situation with a diabolically clever but emotionally abusive teacher whom students had long sensed needed to go, and the teacher had subsequently been removed from the classroom. His pushing the antiquated dress code rules to the limits had resulted in new dress codes being written for the school district. Ditto town curfews for teens. And parking rules and regulations within town limits. His decision to pitch a tent on Main Street had resulted in the permanent placement of two previously homeless families, right there in Laramie. And there had been other whimsical changes, too. Alterations in school district lunch policies and menus, and the way booster club money was distributed.
Beau studied her. “So what's really going on here? Is there some ultimate good that will be done here, that we'll all find out about in the end?”
Like the fact Shane and I really are falling in love
with each other and we want our marriage to continue?
Greta thought. Knowing if she could voice her secret hopes to anyone, it was Beau, Greta murmured, “Maybe it's not a sham, after all.”
Beau peered at her closely. “How much champagne have you had?” he asked incredulously.
Greta thought back to the way she and Shane had looked at each other during the vows, to the way they had touched and kissed and held each other when they'd made love the night before. Sure, passion had brought them together that way, but tenderness and a kindred spirit had kept them together long after their bodies had been satisfied. “Maybe we're falling in love.”
Beau's grip tightened on her in a protective, brotherly way. “Has that rodeo cowboy said as much to you?” he demanded seriously.
“No, but, I feel it,” Greta asserted stubbornly.
When he makes love to me
, she finished silently.
Beau studied her. “Are you sure you're not just getting caught up by the atmosphere of it all?”
“What do you mean?” Greta asked as one dance ended and another started and Beau still showed no signs of letting go of her.
In a low, practical voice, Beau explained, “What's happening to you could be the same thing that happens to a lot of inexperienced actors on a movie set. They put so much energy into creating this fictional romance that they get caught up in the chemistry of the moment and start thinking the feelings are real. And then they have a really intense, torrid romance off the set, as well. They just can't help it, the feelings they've created are that powerful. Then, when the movie ends, and the two of them are no longer acting together eighteen or twenty hours a day and the carefully crafted illusion fades,
bang! It's over. And they realize there was never anything real or lasting there to begin with, and they're devastated. Worse they feel like complete and utter fools.”

Other books

Deadly Passion, an Epiphany by Gabriella Bradley
Y: A Novel by Marjorie Celona
The Wilde Side by Janelle Denison
Ride and Reap by Angelique Voisen
Taken by the Cowboy by Julianne MacLean
Fly Paper by Collins, Max Allan
Princess of Glass by Jessica Day George
The Third Gate by Lincoln Child