The Cowboy and His Wayward Bride. Sherryl Woods
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Lynn said of her brother. âHeâs not even playing her songs on the new jukebox down at Dolanâs anymore.â
âNo, now he plays them on that boom box he carries with him everywhere he goes,â her mother said. âWe have to show it to him. Maybe this will finally close that chapter in his life. Heâll have to move on once he sees she has a child.â
Harlan Patrick stood outside the kitchen door and listened to the whole conversation. His stomach had clenched and his hand had stilled on the screen door the instant heâd realized the topic. The merest mention of Laurie was all it took to get his heart to thudding dully and his forehead to break out in a cold sweat.
How the hell was he supposed to get over Laurie when she was a part of him, as vital to him as breathing? Losing her had made him question everything, every choice heâd made, even his commitment to the family ranch. There were times when the weight of the familyâs expectations and his sense of his own destiny almost combined to crush him.
With his grandfather in his eighties and his father, Cody, getting older, the fate of White Pines was all but his. Ranching was in his blood; it defined who he was, but that didnât make it any less of a burden at times. Day in, day out, 365 days a year, the demands were unceasing. The damned ranch was what stood between him and Laurie, and yet, when the chips had been down, the ranch was what heâd chosen, just as surely as sheâd chosen her music over him.
His heritage over his heart. It was pitiful enough to be the heartbreaking theme of a country-music megahit. He was surprised Laurie hadnât written it herself. Sheâd turned everything else theyâd shared into top-ten hits. There was something downright eerie and irritating about hearing his life played out on the radio.
Thinking back, he realized that maybe heâd made the decisions he had because he hadnât believed for a minute that sheâd really leave. Despite repeated warnings from his sister, his cousin Justin, his grandfather, just about everyone, heâd trusted that their love was stronger than anything else on earth. By the time heâd recognized his mistake, it was too late. Laurie had been gone and with her, his soul.
Ironically heâd gotten another chance a little over a year ago, but his pride had kicked in with a vengeance and heâd watched her run out on him all over again. Pride, as his granddaddy had told him more than once, made a mighty cold bedmate. Even knowing the truth of that, he still hadnât been able to make himself go after her. Heâd called for a while, but when those calls hadnât been returned, heâd cursed her every which way and given up.
Okay, so he was a damned fool. He admitted it. Sheâd made things clear enough the last time heâd seen her. Sheâd told him flat out that she still loved him, just not enough to come home and be his wife. Heâd accepted her decision. What choice did he have? He couldnât go chasing halfway around the world to be by her side, could he? What was he supposed to do? Run White Pines long-distance?
But he hadnât forgotten about her, not for a single second. Now she had a child? He didnât believe it, couldnât believe that some other man had shared her bed, not when sheâd so fiercely declared that she was still in love with him. Theirs simply wasnât the kind of love that died overnight, no matter how badly theyâd mistreated each other. No one had replaced her in his heart or even in his bed. Heâd managed to convince himself that sheâd do the same. Apparently that was just one on a whole long list of delusions heâd held about Laurie.
He yanked open the screen door, then let it slam behind him as he stared into two shocked, guilty faces. âLet me see it,â he demanded, his voice deadly calm.
Sharon Lynn moved between him and the table, blocking his view of the paper. âForget about it,â she said. âForget about her.â
He watched as her sense of indignation and family loyalty kicked in and loved her for it. His big sister had a mile-wide protective streak. All of the Adamses did.
âLaurie Jensen isnât worth one more second of your time,â Sharon Lynn declared. âSheâs never been any good for you, and this proves it.â
âI know what youâre trying to do, sis, but you and I both know that Laurie is the only woman for me.â
Sharon Lynn blushed. âOkay, Iâm sorry. It just makes me so mad the way she keeps walking out on you.â
He decided not to remind her that that was only half of the story. The first time Laurie had gone, Sharon Lynn had actually taken her side, accused him of being a short-sighted jerk for not going after her, for not trying harder to become a part of her new life, maybe using his business degree to become her manager or something. When Laurie had gone this last time, Sharon Lynn had positioned herself staunchly behind him. Rarely did a kind word about Laurie cross her lips. The rest of his family tried never to mention her at all.
He scowled at Sharon Lynn. âJust hand over the paper, okay?â
His sister wasnât quite finished. Once she got wound up, it was impossible to slow her down. She gave him defiant look. âYou have to forget about her, Harlan Patrick. Move on. There are a zillion women in Texas whoâd love to be with you. Pick one of them, one whoâll treat you right instead of running out on everything you have to offer.â
âEasier said than done,â he said.
He ought to know. Heâd cut a wide swath through the available women in three or four counties after Laurie had left the first time. He hadnât had more than a date or two with any of them then and he hadnât bothered to call even one of them after Laurie had left this last time. Heâd accepted the possibility that no one would ever measure up.
âSis, I appreciate your loyalty. I really do,â he assured her, then glared. âNow let me see the blasted paper, unless youâd prefer to have me drive all the way into town to pick one up. Do you want me to be standing in the supermarket with half the town gawking at me when I read it? That ought to keep the gossips busy for a while.â
His mother, whoâd been letting the two of them battle it out up until now, sighed. âLet him see it, Sharon Lynn. The horse is out of the barn anyway.â
His sister handed him the paper with obvious reluctance. The front page was folded in two. He opened it slowly, regretting that he had even his mother and sister as his audience.
The sight of Laurie, all done up in her fancy, rhinestone-studded cowgirl stage costume, brought his pulse skidding to a halt. No matter how many times he saw her picture, he never got over the wonder of her beautyâthe thick chestnut-colored hair, the dare-you curve of her smile, the sparkle in her eyes. Despite the fancy getup, there was no artifice about her. She didnât need a lot of makeup to enhance what nature had given her.
Heâd pretty much stopped looking at these rags, because the sight of her always had the same effect and he figured sooner or later it was going to turn deadly. How many times could a manâs heart grind to a halt before it stopped pumping altogether?
This time, though, the photographer hadnât done her justice. There was no glint in her eyes, no smile on her lips. Heâd caught her in an instant of stunned disbelief, one hand held up, futilely trying to block the lens, while she turned to try to shield the baby in her arms.
Sheâd been too slow. The baby was in perfect focus, round faced, smiling, with a halo of soft brown curls and blue, blue eyes sparkling with pure devilment. Adams eyes, Harlan Patrick thought at once, unmistakably Adams eyes. There was a whole mantle full of baby pictures just like this up at Grandpa Harlanâs. He was surprised his mother and Sharon Lynn hadnât guessed the truthâbut then they hadnât known about that last meetingâthe one where he lost his head and made love to her one last time.
This time it wasnât love or even lust that kicked his pulse into overdrive. It was fury. The suspicion that had