the receptionist wasn’t helping things a bit with her unending questions and suggestions. Though he realized that the woman had no clue about the circumstances behind this trumped-up marriage, he’d like nothing better than to wring her pretty neck for reminding Shelby of what all a wedding ceremony should consist of.
Feeling the need to intercede and spare Shelby any more anguish, he slipped between her and the receptionist and caught Shelby by the elbows, gently squeezing and forcing her gaze to his. “Why don’t you wait out in the truck?” he suggested quietly. “I’ll take care of the arrangements.”
Shelby nodded tearfully and turned away, pressing her fingers against her lips.
Troy waited until the door closed behind her, then dropped his hat on the desk and planted his wide hands on either side of it. He scowled down at the woman opposite him.
“We just want to get married, okay?” he said, struggling to remain calm. “Just the basics. A preacher, a little organ music and a witness to sign the certificate once we’re done. Think you can handle that?”
“Well, of course,” the woman replied in surprise. “We can provide any type of ceremony you wish.”
He straightened, dragging his hat from the desk and clamped it down over his head. “Good. ’Cause that lady waiting out in the truck is going to have a baby in a few months, and I’d like to think we can pull this wedding off before the kid hits the ground.”
The woman’s jaw dropped open, then closed with a click. She tore her gaze from his and opened a book. “W-we have an opening at ten this morning,” she stammered, obviously flustered. “Would that fit in with your schedule?”
Troy flexed his shoulders, trying to ease the tension there. “Yeah. That’d be just dandy.” He turned for the door, then stopped, paused a second, then glanced back. “And fix up a bouquet, would you? One with yellow rose buds. And throw in the cost of the photographer, too. Nothing fancy. Just a couple of shots.”
Whether Shelby considered herself a real bride, or not, Troy told himself as he pushed his way through the door, she deserved flowers, even if her wedding was nothing but a sham. And he would need the pictures as proof this wedding had taken place, because he had a feeling that without them his buddies, Pete and Clayton, would never believe him when he told them he’d taken a detour off the rodeo circuit to marry a pregnant preacher’s daughter in Las Vegas.
The line at the courthouse was longer than Troy had expected, and it took almost two hours for him and Shelby to acquire the paperwork required for a marriage in the state of Nevada.
Though he was sure his bride-to-be needed some time to compose herself before she was forced to lie, by pledging to love and honor a complete stranger for the rest of her life, Troy didn’t have it to give her. As it was, they arrived back at the chapel with only seconds to spare.
The ceremony itself was pretty much a blur to Troy. He remembered standing at the altar, waiting while Shelby walked down the aisle, her steps slow and careful, in perfect rhythm with the traditional wedding march played by the organist he’d requested. He remembered seeing her white-knuckled fingers clasped around the bouquet of tiny yellow rose buds, and the shiny satin ribbons that had cascaded from it brushing against her knees with each slow step. He remembered her turning, once she’d reached the altar, and looking up at him.
But it was at that point that his memory failed. When she’d lifted those wide blue eyes up to his, eyes that glistened with unshed tears, eyes filled with so much innocence, so much trust…well, the sight had rendered him speechless. He was sure he must have repeated the vows the preacher had fed to him, but he didn’t remember saying them, or even what they were. All he could remember were Shelby’s eyes.
And something told him that those eyes, and the woman who possessed them, would haunt him for the rest of his life.
Troy pulled his truck into the alleyway, following the red taillights of Shelby’s car. When she stopped, he did, too, then shut off the ignition and set the brake. Sighing wearily, he dragged a hand down his face before he opened the door and slid to the ground. He hadn’t slept in over forty-eight hours, and the lack of rest was beginning to take its toll.
The long drive to Las Vegas. The return trip to Kingman, Arizona, where they’d retrieved Shelby’s car from the truck stop where they’d met. The drive to Dunning, New Mexico, with her in the lead, guiding him back to her hometown. And few, very few, stops in between.
He glanced up, noticing the hesitancy with which she approached him. But he understood her sudden shyness. He felt rather awkward himself. Sort of like he had the time Pete had suckered him into taking a woman on a blind date. The drive to Dunning, each alone in their own vehicles, had stripped them of what bit of easiness they’d managed to develop during the trip to Las Vegas and back, and left them strangers again.
Not sure what the game plan was, now that they’d arrived in Dunning, he gestured toward the trailer. “I need to unload my horse and walk him around a bit, if that’s okay.”
Tucking her arms beneath her breasts, she nodded and stepped out of his way, then followed him to the rear of the trailer and watched silently as he unlocked the door and lowered the ramp.
“Danny Boy, isn’t it?” she asked, obviously trying to make conversation as he backed the horse down the ramp.
“Yep. That’s his name all right,” he replied.
The horse spooked when his hooves hit the slick asphalt drive and skated a bit. Troy quickly tightened his grip on the lead rope. “Whoa, there, Danny Boy,” he murmured softly, reaching to pat the horse’s long neck. He glanced around as he soothed the animal, getting his bearings, then frowned. “Is this where you live?” he asked, turning his frown on Shelby.
She glanced over her shoulder at the block of dark, two-story buildings behind her. “Yes. I have an apartment over my shop.” She looked at Troy again and shrugged self-consciously. “It’s rather small, but it suits my needs.”
He blew out a long breath, wondering how anybody could stand to live in such close quarters. For himself, he preferred open country with green pastures, rolling hills and a lake to fish, much like the land that surrounded his own home in East Texas.
“My parents live a couple of blocks away,” she added. “In the parsonage beside the church.”
At the reminder of her parents and the confrontation that awaited him in a few hours, Troy gave the lead rope a gentle tug. “Walk with me,” he murmured, and caught Shelby’s hand when she hesitated, pulling her along with him. He’d intended to release her hand once he had her in motion, but after feeling the tremble in her fingers, he found himself lacing his own fingers through hers and squeezing, knowing she was thinking about the confrontation with her parents, too. “They’re going to be pretty disappointed, I’d guess,” he offered quietly.
He saw her chin quiver before she caught herself and gave it a defiant lift.
“Yes, but they’ll get over it.”
He snorted a laugh. “That’s yet to be seen.” Having reached the end of the alley, he made a wide turn, then started back the way they’d come, stopping to let Danny Boy graze on a clump of grass growing at the edge of the dark drive. “I’ll be leaving right after we tell them,” he said after a moment. “I have a rodeo in Pecos on Friday.”
He felt her fingers tense within his before she forced them to relax.
