Shelby swallowed hard. When they’d met in Chicago, Jared had talked about his ranch in Texas. He’d let her believe that he was a cowboy who happened to also have a law degree. And yes, she could admit that the fantasy of being with a cowboy had really appealed to her. But mostly, he’d talked about their having a family and that had sealed the deal for Shelby.
She’d told herself then that she could move her professional organizer business anywhere. But from the moment Jared had introduced her to his family, Margaret had made it clear that her “little business” was hardly appropriate.
Shelby met her own eyes in the mirror and read the desperation there. Maybe all of this would be easier to take if she was madly in love with Jared. But the truth was, she’d fooled herself from the beginning. This wasn’t love. It couldn’t be. The romance, the excitement, had all worn off, like the luster of sterling silver as soon as it was tarnished. Rather than standing up for himself, Jared was completely cowed by his family and that really didn’t bode well for Shelby’s future.
Margaret checked the slim gold watch on her wrist, clucked her tongue and headed for the door. “The music will begin in exactly five minutes.” She stopped, glanced over her shoulder and added, “My husband will be here to escort you down the aisle since you don’t have a father of your own.”
Shelby’s mouth dropped open as the other woman left the room. Stunned, she realized Margaret had tossed that last bit with venom, as if Shelby had arranged for her father to die ten years ago just so he could disrupt Margaret Goodman’s wedding scenario.
She shivered at the thought of Simon Goodman. She didn’t want him anywhere near her, let alone escorting her, touching her. And even worse, she was about to promise to be in Simon’s family for the rest of her life.
“Nope, can’t do it.” She glanced at her own reflection and in a burst of fury ripped her veil off her face. Then, blowing a stray auburn lock from her forehead, she gathered up the skirt of the voluminous gown in both arms.
“Have to hurry,” she muttered, giving herself the impetus she needed to make a break for it before it was too late. If she didn’t leave now, she’d be married into the most awful family she’d ever known.
“Not going to happen,” she reassured herself as she tentatively opened the door and peered out.
Thankfully, there was no one in this section of the TCC. They were all in the main room, waiting for the ceremony to start. In the distance, she heard the soft thrum of harp music playing as an underscore to the rise and fall of conversations. She could only guess what they’d all be talking about soon.
That wasn’t her problem, though. Clutching her wedding gown high enough to keep it out of her way, she hurried down the hall and toward the nearest exit.
She thought she heard someone calling her name, but Shelby didn’t let that stop her. She hit the front door and started running. It was blind panic that kept her moving. After all, she had nowhere to go. She didn’t know hardly anyone in Royal besides the Goodman family. But she kept moving because the unknown was wildly better than the alternative.
Her veil caught on one of the porch posts and yanked her back briefly. But Shelby ripped the stupid thing off her head, tiara and all, and tossed it to the ground. Then she was off again, tearing around a corner and running smack into a brick wall.
Well, that’s what it felt like.
A tall, gorgeous brick wall who grabbed her upper arms to steady her, then smiled down at her with humor in his eyes. He had enough sex appeal to light up the city of Houston and the heat from his hands, sliding down her body, made everything inside her jolt into life.
“Aren’t you headed the wrong way?” he asked, and the soft drawl in his deep voice awakened a single thought in her mind.
Oh, boy.
A real cowboy.
Shelby tipped her head back to look up at him and caught the flash of surprise in his gaze as he reached out to steady her. Ridiculously enough, considering the situation—running away from her own wedding—she felt a hot blast of something...amazing.
The cowboy had shaggy light brown hair, icy-blue eyes, a strong jaw and a gray cowboy hat tipped down low on his forehead. He wore a black suit, crisp white shirt with a dove-gray tie and oh, sweet mama Lou, shining black cowboy boots. His hands were strong and warm on her upper arms and a slow smile curved his mouth as he took in what she was wearing.
And the soft drawl in his deep voice really worked for her. He was everything Jared wasn’t. Although, even as she thought it, Shelby reminded herself that her judgment had been so crappy about Jared that she could be just as wrong about Mr. Tall, Dark and Yummy.
“Hey now,” he said, that deep voice rolling along her spine again. “Are you all right?”
“Absolutely not,” she said firmly. The humor in his eyes was gone, replaced by concern and she responded to it. “I have to get out of here. Now. Can you help me?”
His eyes narrowed on her and his delectable mouth moved into a grim slash. “You’re running out on your wedding?”
Disapproval practically radiated from him and Shelby’s spine went stiff as a board in reaction. “Just as fast as I can,” she said. “Can you help me?”
Before he could say yes or no, another voice erupted behind her.
“Shelby! What the devil do you think you’re doing?”
Spinning around until the cowboy was at her back, Shelby watched as Margaret Goodman stalked toward her, fire in her eyes. “Your guests are waiting.”
“They’re not my guests,” Shelby said. Heck, the only people she knew in Royal was the family she was supposed to marry into and frankly, if they were the best this town had to offer, she was ready to run back to Chicago.
“Of course they are.” Margaret waved her hand impatiently, dismissing Shelby’s argument. “Don’t be foolish.”
Shelby moved back until she felt the cowboy’s tall, strong body press up against hers. Cowardly? Maybe, but she’d live with it. Right now, this tall, exceptionally well-built man was the safest spot she could find.
Margaret’s gaze snapped to the cowboy. “Caleb, bring her along inside right this minute.”
Caleb. His name was Caleb. For a second, Shelby worried that he might do just that. After all, he didn’t know her and the Goodman family, as they kept telling her, were a big deal here in Royal. Maybe he wasn’t the safe harbor she’d thought he was.
Then the cowboy stepped out from behind her and moved to partially block Shelby from the woman glaring at her. While Shelby watched, he tipped his hat and said, “I don’t take orders from you, Mrs. Goodman.”
Margaret inhaled through her nose and if she could have set the cowboy on fire, she clearly would have. “Fine. Please bring her along inside. The wedding is about to start.”
“Well now,” Caleb said slowly, that
