His Montana Bride. Brenda Minton
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week. I know I’m leaving sooner than we expected, but please, can you stay for me?”
“You know I’ll do it, Gwen.”
“Maybe you can help out with some of the other plans.” Gwen looped an arm through her sister’s and smiled up at her. “You’ll be bored and that will give you something to do while I’m gone.”
He could have sworn Katie mumbled something about not having her own life, but she smiled and told her sister of course she would help.
And then Julie was at his side, smiling her bright smile. “With your fashion background maybe you can help with the dresses!”
“The brides aren’t supplying their own dresses?” Katie looked at him for the answer, not Julie.
“We have a few companies willing to loan vintage dresses for the women who don’t have a vintage dress of their own. Wedding apparel is a little out of my comfort zone.”
“I thought you had a wedding coordinator?” Katie was now interested.
“We do have a wedding coordinator—Helen Avery—but she’s had a difficult time showing up. When I do see her, I want to know what we need so that we don’t have to just rely on her for the arrangements.”
“I see.” Katie glanced at her sister, a fresh wave of pain settling in those green eyes of hers. She flashed another smile, though. “I think my sister plans on wearing our great-grandmother’s dress. I believe you want the dresses to be from the early twentieth century, between 1900 and 1920.”
“I think so,” Cord hedged, glanced at his watch and started to think of excuses for escaping.
As much as he wanted to escape, Katie seemed just as in need. Her sister was talking, discussing the dress with seed pearls, handmade lace from Bavaria and silk so soft it might possibly fall apart if washed.
“I never wanted the dress,” Gwen Archer smiled at him and then reached for her fiancé’s hand. “But then this wedding came up and we both want this. We want to be married here, in a ceremony that means something to this community.”
He shook his head and bit back the reply that almost slipped out. Special? A ceremony with forty-nine other couples. He wouldn’t exactly put that under the heading of special, sentimental or anything else with meaning. It was his dad’s idea. It was another way to put Jasper Gulch on the map. If Cord had his way, he’d call the whole thing off, tell these couples to go home and plan a sweet ceremony in their local church with people they care about in attendance rather than eight guests per couple and half the town of Jasper Gulch.
But none of that mattered because Katie lifted her hand to flick away a tear that rolled down her cheek. All while her sister continued to talk about that dress she hadn’t really wanted to wear.
Okay, he was a rescuer by nature. He’d hoped to keep that part of himself tamped down, locked up and out of sight. But the glisten of tears in Katie’s eyes, the way she managed to smile and agree with her sister about how perfect this would be, couldn’t be ignored.
“Let me give you a ride to the ranch, Miss Archer. I’m about done in with wedding planning and I’d imagine you’ve had a long day.”
“I have had a long day,” she agreed and her gaze met his, silently thanking him. For the first time in a long time he was happy to be a rescuer.
Gwen shot her a look and then stepped closer to Dr. Jeff. “Then I guess we’ll head back to Missoula. Are you sure you’ll be okay here, Katie?”
Katie smiled, nodded and told her sister she’d be just fine and she’d make notes about the ceremony. And Gwen needed to make sure she got the dress fitted. It would be long for her and probably too big around the waist.
Gwen hugged her sister. “I know you always wanted to wear it, Katie. But it will be perfect for this ceremony and I’ll make sure they take it up but don’t cut it. We can always let it out for you when you get married.”
Katie smiled. “Of course we can.”
Cord offered Katie his arm, knowing he’d regret it, knowing there were plenty of people watching who would talk later, make up stories and have him married off to the redhead from Missoula. He shook off regret and waited, looking down at her as she made the decision to take his arm. He gave her an encouraging smile. She nodded and her hand settled on his sleeve.
“Thank you, Mr. Shaw.”
“Cord.”
She nodded and looked away. “Then you should call me Katie.”
He led her out of the festival hall into the dark night and a sky twinkling with millions of stars. The air was cold now that the sun had gone down. “You don’t have a coat in there, do you?”
“No, it seemed warm earlier and I left my coat and suitcase at your parents’ house.”
He held up a remote start. “My truck should be warm.”
Next to him she nodded but he saw her shiver. He slipped out of his jacket and placed it over her shoulders. She smiled up at him and he thought she had about the prettiest smile he’d ever seen. But he drew back from that thought like a man twice bitten by a poisonous snake.
Twice bitten, twice engaged and jilted, all the same thing to Cord Shaw and he wasn’t going there again. But he could be a gentleman, a cowboy, and give Katie a ride home. He’d even walk her to the front door, make sure she got inside safely, and then he’d head on back to his little cabin on the banks of Shaw Lake.
He opened the truck door and she climbed in, handing him back his jacket. “Don’t worry, Mr. Shaw, I’m not on the hunt. I’m here for my sister, not to follow in her footsteps but to be here to support her.”
“I hadn’t thought—”
She smiled, cutting off his explanations. “No, you hadn’t. But everyone else will think it. A relationship and marriage are the last thing I want.”
Interesting. He would have questioned her more, but he thought asking questions might push them a little too far into each other’s lives. She’d given him enough of an explanation and he was willing to let her leave it at that.
True to his best intentions, he drove her to the Shaw ranch, walked her to the front door of the house he’d been raised in, saw her safely inside and told her he was sure they’d see each other the next day.
It was that easy.
Or at least he had thought it would be easy. But driving away from the ranch after dropping her off, he realized her scent lingered in his truck. He lifted his jacket to his nose and sniffed. Yeah, that was her. The scent was oriental, not sweet and flowery.
He grinned and draped the jacket over the seat as he headed down the bumpy trail toward his place. All the while her scent teased him and he thought that it might be nice to spend time with a woman who spoke her mind. It would be easy. And in a month she’d be gone. That made her just about perfect.
Katie walked downstairs Sunday morning, her second day in the Shaw home and her second day feeling out of place. She didn’t belong here, not in this town or in this house. This was Gwen’s moment, not Katie’s. And yet, here she was.
She took a deep breath and put on a smile and hopefully a look of confidence. She could do this. Following the sound of laughter and voices raised in numerous conversations, she walked through the pine-paneled living room and headed toward the big country kitchen with its long, butcher-block table, gleaming granite countertops and light oak cabinets. Julie Shaw, auburn hair and blue eyes, turned to smile at her.
“Good morning, Katie. Do you want coffee? And we have muffins, bacon and sausage this morning. Breakfast is simple on Sundays.” Julie’s long, auburn hair curled down past her shoulders.