His Perfect Bride: Hired by the Cowboy / Wedding Bells at Wandering Creek / Coming Home to the Cattleman

She certainly did not deserve to be hurt again, and he’d make sure that their relationship stayed in a place where they could always be friends. If his wedding promises meant nothing else, they would mean that.

In forty-eight hours, she’d be Mrs. Alexis Madsen. The minister would pronounce them husband and wife and he’d kiss her and they’d cut the cake and…

And he’d kiss her.

Dear Lord, he hadn’t thought of that. His hand swiped over his mouth. Kissing Alex, in front of witnesses. If holding her hand caused her to blush, what would a kiss do? Would she sense his hesitation, or wonder at his motives? Could he satisfy himself with one kiss?

Connor pushed his chair away hastily, rising and putting his glass in the sink. “Thanks for the lemonade. I’ve gotta go.”

Alex stared after Connor with wide eyes, hearing the screen door slap into the frame with a bang.

“What got into him?”

Johanna laughed, eyes twinkling. “I think he’s realized he’s getting married in two days.”

Alex’s eyes stared at the door as if she could see him on the other side of it, hurrying to the barn. “Two days,” she whispered, desperate to quiet her churning nerves at the thought. In two days they would stand before his family and friends and make promises they didn’t intend to keep.

Alex swallowed the lump in her throat, watching him cross the yard with long strides. Before that happened Alex knew they had to talk. Because there were promises, real ones, that needed to be made before they proceeded with this sham of a marriage.

The portable arch was in place beneath the huge old poplar, and the white folding chairs, numbering only twenty-four, were in small, precise rows. Several feet away, over by the deck, was a dance floor, large and roughly constructed of plywood by an obliging neighbor. Leaned up against the deck were four long, foldable tables that tomorrow would be adorned with white tablecloths, all borrowed from the church. Inside the house, small cakes and sweets were in boxes in the freezer. Millie, Johanna’s longtime friend, was providing the wedding feast. On one hand Alex was touched by the willingness of the Madsens’ friends to help, yet on the other it only increased the pressure she felt, knowing she would be Mrs. Connor Madsen in name only.

Alex surveyed the backyard, her hands twisting nervously. She wasn’t entirely sure Connor was going to go through with it. Ever since yesterday afternoon he’d made darn sure he’d kept his distance, only appearing when absolutely necessary. If he were having second thoughts, she wished he’d come and say so, put her out of her misery. One minute she was nervous as sin about the ceremony, and the next she was petrified she’d have to send the guests home due to lack of a groom.

Today he’d escaped early to the fields, only coming in for meals. The minister had arrived at five sharp, and Connor had rushed in from the barn to hastily go over the details of the ceremony tomorrow. But he’d been distracted, fidgeting like he wanted to be anywhere else. And who could blame him? She wasn’t the world’s greatest catch, now, was she? Granted, she’d improved, thanks to Johanna’s help. She was learning about gardening and her cooking was getting better. She was for the first time putting down some roots, just like the fragile green plants sprouting in the garden.

Roots that were going to make it even harder to leave when the time came. But the fact remained she was pregnant with another man’s baby. And even if she wanted to help Connor financially, her earning potential was severely limited. She’d never gone to school beyond twelfth grade. She knew in her head that this was only for a few months, but her heart was constantly disagreeing with her, picturing much, much more.

A real marriage. A real husband and a real home and a real family.

She laughed to herself. Well, if that wasn’t putting the cart before the horse. This whole situation was so unorthodox she could do nothing more than shake her head at her turbulent feelings and hope for the best.

“You’re looking glum.”

Johanna’s voice intruded behind her and she jumped, startled. “Sorry.”

“Second thoughts?”

She turned to the older lady, seeing understanding on her face. “It’s just…so close, you know?”

“You’ll do fine. You’ve got backbone. You know what’s right.”

“But is this right?” she implored Johanna with her hands outstretched. “Is this fair to Connor? A temporary wife carrying someone else’s baby? I got so wrapped up in the fun of planning tomorrow that I forgot what it’s supposed to be about…and what it’s really about.”

Johanna’s eyes softened, a glimmer of a smile tipping the corners of her mouth. “Oh, my dear,” she murmured, putting a hand on Alex’s hair. “Don’t sell yourself short.”

Alex swallowed. “But Connor…”

“Is upstairs in the shower, and hungry to boot. I’m off to Millie’s to look after some last-minute arrangements.”

So she and Connor would have time alone after all. Alex didn’t know whether to be grateful or petrified.

When Connor came downstairs, Alex had fixed him a plate. He was clean-shaven, his hair brushed back and glistening with water from his shower. She recognized the fresh smell of his deodorant and the slightly spicy scent of his shampoo, and her stomach clenched.

“I’ll get your chicken off the grill,” she explained, hurrying outside to the barbeque to retrieve his chicken breast. He sat down quietly as she placed the plate before him, heaped with mixed greens, chicken, and macaroni salad.

“Gram made this before she left?” he asked, putting some of the salad in his mouth.

“No, I did.”

His eyes met hers, and she sensed warmth in them for the first time in the past forty-eight hours.

“It tastes like hers. Exactly.”

Alex smiled. “Well, I did tell you I was a good student.”

“Aren’t you eating?” He gestured to the place across from him with his fork.

“I ate earlier.”

“I see.”

Alex made herself busy around the kitchen while Connor finished his meal, and then, clearing his plate, she took a breath. She had to be a grownup and do this. And do it now before she lost her nerve.

“I think we should talk.”

He stilled, wary, and Alex’s nerves twisted and turned as everything she’d planned to say went rushing out of her head completely.

“Talk about what?”

She put his dishes in the dishwasher, keeping her back towards him. Coward, she grumbled to herself. She had to do this. She was an adult. Difficult conversations had to be faced.

“About us. About what’s going to happen tomorrow.”

“I see.”

She turned, facing him, but his expression was flat and completely closed off, and she wasn’t sure how to proceed. “Please, Connor. I can’t pretend that tomorrow is what it will look like.”

“I can’t either.”

His words left her feeling strangely empty. She shouldn’t want him to mean his vows, but somehow she did. It was wrong, and misguided, but she would admit only to herself that she had feelings for Connor. Deep feelings. Feelings he surely didn’t reciprocate, so she’d do the right thing here.

“Our vows tomorrow…they’re the forever kind.” She sat in the chair next to him, resting her hands in her lap, the backs pressed together between her knees. “We both know that forever isn’t what this is about.” No matter what my traitorous heart is saying right at this moment. “But I think we should make promises. To each other, tonight, about what we can expect over the next several months.”

“You mean temporary vows?”

“Yes,” she breathed with relief, glad he understood what she was getting at.

He sighed, and she resisted the urge to reach up and tuck that errant piece of hair behind his ear, the one that always seemed determined to curl. His eyes searched her face, and she knew that she would never be able to resist him when he looked at her that way.