stood, prepared to walk out of the church. Only a crazy man would’ve given in to Bill’s plan. And he wasn’t crazy.
The only problem was, he’d have to go past Bill and his niece to get to his truck. And he didn’t want to do that.
Suddenly John realized the woman was holding her son. The boy was the only thing about this agreement he liked. Not that he’d ever trade Betsy. True, he’d originally hoped for a boy, but it had only taken a minute of staring down at his tiny baby daughter to win his heart. But he would enjoy having a boy around, too.
It wasn’t as if he would ever have a son of his own.
More noise echoed from the rear of the church. He looked over his shoulder again. Bill and his niece were walking to the front. Okay, so she’d finally agreed. Too late to escape now.
“Uh, John,” Bill said, sounding nervous, “this here is my niece, Debra Williams, and her boy, Andy.”
“Hello,” John said. He knew he should offer a smile, but he couldn’t. Like a mantra, one line kept repeating in his brain: This is crazy…. This is crazy….
As if on cue, a door in the back of the church opened and the gentle face of their pastor, Reverend Tony Jackson, appeared. He came down the aisle with the big smile of a clergyman who thought he was sending a new couple off to wedded bliss.
“Ah, here’s the happy couple. John, introduce me to your lovely bride.”
John cleared his throat. “Uh, Reverend Jackson, this is Debra Williams, Bill’s niece.” He wouldn’t exactly call the woman lovely. Especially with that frown. Bill must’ve just told her about all the work she’d have to do, John figured. Maybe they should halt the proceedings right here and make sure she was willing to do what was necessary.
The reverend shook her hand. “How nice to meet you. Now, if you two will face forward…” He frowned. “Uh, Bill, can you hold the two little ones?”
“Sure, Pastor, I’ll just sit here in the front row. After all, I’m the witness, too.” He took Betsy out of John’s arms and then took the little boy’s hand after his mother set him down on the floor.
John’s frown deepened. He hated this! After his last marriage, he’d vowed never to marry again. Never to give some woman power over him. And he wasn’t including that vulnerability as a part of this marriage. He’d told Bill that.
He finally forced himself to look his new wife in the face. She had brown hair, pale skin, vulnerable gray eyes…
No! He stopped himself with a sharp command. Her looks didn’t matter. He was hiring her! That was how he was going to get through this day, by pretending he was hiring her for a job. Not to be his wife.
“Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to join this man and this woman in holy matrimony,” Reverend Jackson began.
John pressed his lips together, trying to ignore all the wrong things about that statement that seemed to burn a hole in his gut. He felt deceitful—not easy for a man who’d lived an honest life till now.
Before he knew it, the pastor had spoken those terrible words, “I now pronounce you man and wife.”
John remembered what would naturally follow those words and he hurriedly said, “Uh, thanks, Reverend Jackson. We’ll definitely have you out for dinner after calving season.” Then he shoved a white envelope in the man’s hand and turned to Bill to get his little girl.
As he reached for Betsy, the shaggy-haired boy looked up at him. Shyly he asked, “Are you a cowboy?”
The question surprised him. He looked down at the blue suit he wore. He’d bought it three years ago when his father died. Not the best memory. He shut it down. “Yeah, I’m a cowboy.”
“Not now, Andy,” the woman whispered.
Turning to stare at her, John wondered what was so horrible that the little boy wanted to ask. He nodded at Bill. “You’ll get them back to the ranch? I’ll see you there.”
He ignored Bill’s protest as he walked out of the church, Betsy in his arms.
Debra watched the man walk away. He was a handsome man, in his late twenties, tall and muscular, with sea-blue eyes. The kind of man any young woman would dream of marrying. Unless she was wise enough to know that looks didn’t matter. Her own husband—her first husband, she reminded herself—had been handsome. But he hadn’t been much of a husband. Not that John Richey seemed so marriage-minded, either.
She whirled back around to glare at her uncle. “You told me he was happy with this arrangement. That he would be a father to Andy. That he appreciated what I was doing!” Those had been the assurances her uncle had given her in the foyer of the church. She knew her son needed a daddy, and it seemed she and John could help each other, as Bill had explained it.
“Now, Debbie, don’t get upset. Not in front of Andy,” Bill cautioned.
“You lied to me, Uncle Bill,” she said in a fierce whisper. “You lured me out here, where I have no way of getting back to Kansas City, and then you lied to me!”
“It’s not really like that, Debbie, I swear. He’s just angry at—at the idea of marrying again. After all, he’s a widower. He needs time, but he don’t have any ’cause it’s March and calving season is starting and we need someone to take care of Betsy and cook and clean for us. We’re out in the saddle almost fifteen hours a day. And that’s where you come in.”
Debra stared at her uncle as he drew a deep breath. “Then why didn’t he just hire me as his housekeeper?”
“’Cause he ain’t got no money, honey. He didn’t figure no one would work for him unless he could promise them something.”
“Uncle Bill, you conned me! If I could, I’d head home right now!”
“You’d take Andy back to that tiny apartment when you can go to a wonderful home? Where he can have a place to play and have you around all day? Come on, Debra! You’re a better mother than that. And think about that poor little baby girl, being raised by a couple of cowhands. We hardly know nothing about babies!”
“Oh, give it a rest, Uncle Bill. What’s done is done. Take me to my new home and outstanding future opportunity,” Debra said with a weary sigh.
Bill helped her and Andy back into his truck and continued on down the road, the small town long gone in the rearview mirror. “I really thought you and John could help each other out. He’s just so crazed about getting married, but he’ll settle down if you give him a little while.”
“What choice do I have?” she asked, not expecting an answer.
They rode in silence until Bill stopped the truck in front of a beautiful house. Debra stared at it in shock. Having been told that the man didn’t have money to pay a housekeeper, she’d expected a tiny log cabin she’d have to share with him and her uncle.
Instead, she was looking at a large, two-story farmhouse-style home with large windows and an inviting front porch. Shade trees along the property made it look welcoming and big enough to house a platoon of soldiers. This was to be her home?
Finally she turned to look at
