Last Year's Bride (Montana Born Brides) (7 page)

It was half invitation, half challenge
—and all desire. And need. And pent-up emotion. And now—now he was here—and coming undone at her touch.

She was ready for him, and there was no doubt he was ready for her. He came to her, then, hard and hot, silk and steel. She could feel the tremor in him as he slid in, knew she was trembling, too, as she wrapped around him and she brought him home.

She’d known coming to Marietta was a risk. Just like marrying Cole had been a risk. But you never had a life without taking a risk. Her parents had taught her that. They’d adopted five of their six children from far-flung parts of the world, had reached out— opened themselves and their hearts— to children they had never met.

“
Best thing we ever did,” her mother had told her more than once.

And her father had agreed, smiling at them both and adding with a long look at her mother,
“It was—along with marrying you.”

Nell had grown up wanting a marriage like theirs, wanting to know the confidence that came with making the right choice, finding the right man.
“How will I know?” she’d asked them.

They had looked at each other helplessly for a moment. Then,
“You feel a connection,” her mother said. “There’s something there between you. You see the world in ways that complement each other. Not the same, but in ways that make it clearer, brighter, fuller.”

“
You trust each other,” her father said. “You want the best for each other. You challenge each other. You make each other better. It’s just ... right.”

This here, this now
—whatever existed between her and Cole— Nell believed, was right. She had sensed it in the beginning, had against all odds felt it grow. The summer they’d met they’d only spent weeks together, but she’d hated to leave him when it was time to go. And then they’d had those few and far between unsatisfactory phone calls because what Cole felt he never said. He played his cards close to his chest.

But then there was Reno.

He’d asked her to meet him there. And when he’d met her train, his face had lit up and he’d wrapped her in his arms, holding her so tightly it felt as if he thought there was no tomorrow.

It had confirmed everything she
’d believed, right down to the words. She’d said them first, “I love you,” not really expecting he’d say them, too.

But he had. And he
’d looked her in the eye when he’d said them. She’d believed he meant them. It was only later—these past months—that she had begun to worry, to question.

She didn
’t question now. He was here now, with her—in her—a part of her as she was of him. They loved each other. She knew it. She could feel it.

It was like a wave overtaking her, sweeping her along on its crest
—his body, her body—together. She splintered. He shattered. They were broken—and whole again.

Two made one.

She stroked her hands over his sweat-slick back, felt the hammering of his heart against hers, turned her head and kissed his cheek. She smiled. “I love you.”

And then she slept, settled, comfortable, confident now that whatever had happened, it wasn
’t that he didn’t love her. She knew he did. Everything was right in her world for the first time since Reno.

So it was a shock to wake up to the ring of the phone.
Nell groped for it in the tangled sheets. “H’lo?” She shoved her hair out of her eyes, looked around. It was morning.

“
Ten minutes at the front desk,” Grant said briskly in her ear. When she didn’t reply, he demanded, “You are okay now, right, Corbett?”

“
Y-yes.”

Except she was alone.

He watched her sleep.

Cole didn
’t close his eyes for the rest of the night. He just lay beside her in the bed and watched the light and shadow of the snow clouded sky play across her sleeping form. They hadn’t pulled the drapes across the tall narrow windows, and in the glow of the street lights, the low-hanging clouds turned the sky a dusky pink. They turned Nell’s hair a dark burnished gold, made him want to thread his fingers through it.

But if he did, he might wake her. And if he woke her, he would want to make love to her again. And again.

So he didn’t. He just looked his fill.

Or tried to.
He would never be filled full enough. Cole knew that now. He knew he loved her. Knew he couldn’t resist her standing in front of him, challenging him, defying him to tell her he didn’t.

He couldn
’t do that.

He couldn
’t lie. All he could do was reach for her, admit his feelings in his actions, even if he wouldn’t—this time—say the words. It was because he loved her, damn it, that he had to let her go.

There was no future for her here.
He should have realized that ten months ago in Reno. He should have realized it even before that. He should never had let things get started, let alone go as far as they had. But he hadn’t really been thinking, had he? Not logically. He’d been as bad as his dad, choosing a woman who didn’t belong.

He should have realized that the first time he met her. She
’d had some sort of digital camera in her hands after all. Just because she had been fascinated by rodeo, by cowboys, by him— and his concussion, for God’s sake— and they’d hit it off, that was no reason to think they should spend a lifetime together.

Well, to be fair, he hadn
’t. He’d resisted the pull of attraction. Despite the concussion, he’d enjoyed having her fussing over him. But he’d had the sense to say good-bye to her the next day. He should have forgotten her when she drove away.

But he hadn
’t. And a couple of weeks later, in Bozeman picking up a new trailer hitch, he’d had some spare time and Nell’s phone number burning a hole in his pocket. So he’d called and asked her to meet him for coffee. The spark had still been there.

Hell, the spark was still here now.

But it wouldn’t last, and Cole knew it. Nell had talent—he’d seen some of the footage she’d shot now. She’d had job offers right and left upon graduation. How could he ask her not to take one? And what if he had?

He knew all too well what happened when women came to the ranch who weren
’t prepared for the loneliness, for the demands, and for the limitations. He couldn’t ask it.

He wouldn
’t.

But right now
—just for this night—she was here. He had her for a few hours.

She murmured something in her sleep, reached out a hand.
Without thinking, Cole touched it and felt her finger wrap around his. She smiled, turned, hugging his hand against her breasts, drawing him close behind her.

He let himself be drawn. Just for now.

Before she woke, he kissed her cheek, brushed a light hand over her hair. Wished things were different. Knew they never would be.

He dressed in the cold and snugged the blankets up around her. She stirred, but didn
’t open her eyes. He thanked God she didn’t wake.

“
Sign the papers,” he wrote on the note pad by bed. “It’s for the best.”

Then he let himself out to drive back to his real life
— to feed the cattle in the morning snow, to chip the ice in their drinking water, to feed the horses, mend some tack and replace the light over the workbench in the shop.

To think about Nell and the night they
’d spent—and then to let it go.

“They’re what?” Cole stared at his sister and grandmother in disbelief. He’d just come in from delivering a calf in ten degree weather. His teeth were chattering. His fingers were stiff. He had a crick in his back from kneeling and pulling. He was covered with muck and mud and ice and things he didn’t want to think about. He couldn’t get feeling back in his hands. Nothing was working—apparently even his hearing. “They’re not!” he said again, because he couldn’t have heard Sadie correctly.

But Sadie was grinning like a maniac, like she
’d won the lottery, waving a piece of paper in his face. “Yes, they are!” His sister’s head bobbed eagerly. “It says so right here. The whole
Compatibility Game
cast and crew will be here in two weeks. Here!” She waved the paper again triumphantly. “On our ranch! A television show!”

Cole just stared at her, waiting for his ears to thaw.
His sister kept waving the paper, his grandmother was giving him a cautious tentative smile. Cole felt a prickle of worry seep into a crack in his frozen brain. He resisted it.

“
Naw,” he said, shaking his head. He couldn’t believe it.
Wouldn’t
believe it.

He shed his gloves, pulled off his boots and stamped his feet, to try to get some circulation back to his toes.
He hung his jacket on the hook by the door, then set his hat on top of it, then rubbed his ears.

“
Isn’t it amazing?” Sadie was saying. “Well, no, it’s not really. I mean, I was sure they’d like our place best.”

Cole just stared at her.
“What are you talking about? Why would anyone like our place best? And a television program?”
Nell’s
television program! It didn’t bear thinking about.
“What the hell is going on?”

“
Don’t swear, Cole.” His grandmother pressed a steaming mug of coffee into his hands. “Maybe you should sit down.”

Maybe he should.
He set the mug down, washed his hands, then picked it back up again, dropped into one of the chairs at the kitchen table and clutched the mug in both hands, watching his sister dance circles around the kitchen.

She hadn
’t stopped moving since he’d come in the door. He was accustomed to his sister’s exuberance, but this was even more enthusiasm than he was used to.

He watched her silently until she settled. It was like waiting for a fly to land so you could swat it.
But you couldn’t swat Sadie, literally or otherwise. Her optimism was endless. She was the anti-Sam. He sighed, then leaned back in his chair and waited, his hands firmly anchored on the coffee mug. His grandmother brought her cup over to the table, put a plate of fresh baked cookies down and shoved it in his direction. Cole took two.

At last Sadie spun into a chair and looked at him, rosy-cheeked and beaming.
“It’s like this,” she said. “You remember the Valentine’s Ball?”

Cole nodded. He was still doing his best to forget it.

“Well, there was a TV production company here that weekend, looking for a place to shoot a couple of episodes of a reality TV show. That girl you dated a couple of years ago—Nell?—she works for them. And she or her boss or somebody heard about the Wedding Giveaway and they thought it would be cool to use a local ranch as a setting for their own wedding couples on
The Compatibility Game
.” Her smile widened.

Cole
’s fingers tightened on the mug.

“
They contacted the paper and got the names of local ranches. I was there writing ads when Mrs Akers took the call. She gave them some names—and I gave them ours!”

Cole was hanging onto the mug for dear life.

“They came out the day after the ball. You and Dad missed them. You were with Mr McKay looking at cattle down by Ennis. Gran and I showed them around. Gave them a tour. Showed them the bunkhouse—”

“
The bunkhouse?” Cole sputtered. “Nobody’s slept in the bunkhouse since Clint and I were kids!”

“
Well, there’s nothing wrong with it that a coat of paint and some mattresses won’t fix,” Sadie the optimist said stoutly. “They can bring their own sleeping bags. Besides, it’s just for the guys. The girls are going to stay in the house.”

“
The hell you say!”

“
Swearing, Cole,” Gran murmured mildly into her coffee mug.

“
Dad’s not agreeing to this.” He couldn’t imagine Sam doing anything of the sort.

Sadie shrugged.
“Yes, he is.” And at Cole’s incredulous look, she added, “You know Dad—he trusts me.” She gave Cole a guileless smile that turned mischievous at the last second. “And it could have had something to do with Jane.”

“
Jane?” Cole stared at her. “Who’s Jane?”

“
The new Chamber of Commerce woman. That Jane. When they were really interested, I said maybe she should talk to him, too. So she did.”

Cole felt as if his head was coming off. His father had listened
—and agreed—to something mighty Jane Weiss had said?

He
’d always known she was a force. Troy wouldn’t have encouraged her to come to Marietta to put the town on the map if she hadn’t been. But she must sure as hell be persuasive if Sam was doing what she wanted.

Cole let out a pent-up breath, then realized he
’d been sidetracked by the Jane and Sam subplot. “What guys are staying here?” he demanded. “What girls?”

“
The contestants,” Sadie said. “There are four couples. They get challenges and they have to be able to meet them. The guys will do some stuff. You know, mend a fence, deliver a calf—”

Cole was agog. He shook his head to clear it.
“Whose calf?”

“
Well, how would I know?” Sadie said, giving him a blank look. “Whichever cow goes into labor when they’re here, I assume.”

Cole shut his eyes.
His mind spun.

“
It’s not a big deal,” Sadie said. “You don’t have to do anything much. Well, maybe show them the ropes. Teach them a bit. I think it’ll be fun!”

Cole thought it would be a disaster. And Nell had something to do with it?
He knew she’d come to look for a place for her show. He had never in a million years imagined their ranch was on the list. Christ, most of the ranches in the valley had more to recommend them than the Rafter M Arrow. He said so now.

“
You’d think, wouldn’t you?” Sadie munched a cookie happily. “But the boss, Grant, said that he liked ours because it was authentic. Genuine. It wasn’t a Hollywood star’s hideaway.”

No, it wasn
’t that. Cole was still appalled, but he appreciated Nell’s boss’s attitude. And he breathed a little easier because Nell apparently had had nothing to do with it.

“
So they’re coming,” Sadie said. “The week after next. The contestants here—so they can ‘live the life’—” she bracketed the phrase in finger quotes “— and the crew will be at the Graff in town. Gran and I will be here, but we figured you and Dad could decamp to the cabin.”

The cabin was the original homestead that Cole
’s great-grandparents had built up in the foothills when they’d settled here over a hundred years ago. It was where Cole’s dad had grown up, where Gran had lived until the year after Grandpa Mac had died. Then she’d come down to the house Sam had built to live with them. In theory, if not in deed, the cabin was Cole’s place now. When she’d moved out, Gran had told him when he married he could bring his bride there.

He had, though unwittingly.
The last weekend of the summer they had dated, right before she’d gone back to California to school, he had taken Nell there. He’d made love to her there for the first time. They’d awakened together the first time.

In Reno he
’d dreamed of taking her back there and making a home with her.

But he hadn
’t. Couldn’t. And he rarely went there himself now. The memories and the might-have-beens were still too strong.

He didn
’t want to go there now—particularly with his dad in tow. But if the TV show’s coming was a done deal, he was sure he’d rather be there than in the middle of the mess. And maybe new memories—of his dad grumping around and complaining—would replace the old, and he wouldn’t think of Nell every time he rode past.

So he grunted now and took a bite of a cookie.

Sadie grabbed another also. “You can take Sal and the pups, too.”

Cole stared at her.
“You’re joking.”

Sal, their Border Collie cattle dog had had a litter of eight the day before yesterday.
He was supposed to take a litter of puppies up to the cabin?

“
Well, we won’t want them underfoot here,” Sadie said practically.

“
They won’t need the noise and the commotion, dear,” his grandmother pointed out.

Cole didn
’t need the noise and commotion, either, but they didn’t care a whit about that.

“
And,” Sadie said happily through the cookie in her mouth, “it will be great to have Nell here, too.”

Cole choked. He coughed. He sputtered cookie crumbs.

Gran reached over and smacked him on the back. “Drink some coffee.”

Cole gulped it, scalding his throat in the process.
His eyes began watering. He squinted at Sadie. “What about Nell?”

Sadie bobbed her head eagerly.
“She’s the director.”

Hell
’s bells. What on earth was she thinking coming here, moving in on him? He thought they’d settled things. They’d seen each other at the Graff a month ago. They’d had their one last night together. It had been love—he admitted that—but it had also been good-bye. They were done.

Nell knew that.

Except apparently, she didn’t.

“
I’m sure they’ll have their own ideas,” Sadie went on happily, “but we should probably be thinking about possible challenges.”

Challenges? Cole could think of one.
Jesus. Nell was coming here? Nell was
staying
here? Cole chugged the rest of his coffee, finishing the scald job on his throat. Then he shoved back from the table, stood up and carried his mug to the sink.

“
Cole?” his sister said. “What do you think?”

Cole thought he needed to run as far and as fast as he could.

She probably should have told Cole they were coming.

But Nell hadn
’t been sure it was actually going to happen until the last couple of days. At first she’d thought it wasn’t even a possibility. There were three other ranches that were certainly much more upscale than Cole’s family’s place, including one owned by one of Hollywood’s most bankable stars, and she’d been convinced Grant would choose one of them.

But he hadn
’t. “Not what we’re about,” he’d said firmly. “Where’s the challenge in a place like that?”

“
Paying for it,” Nell had replied drily.

Grant had grinned.
“For you and me, maybe. Not for him.”

To her surprise, he had loved the McCullough ranch at first sight even though that had been when he
’d got out of the 4WD truck they’d rented, to open the gate so she could drive through. He’d slipped on a patch of ice, landed on the rear end of his Calvin Klein jeans, and still had come back to the truck grinning.