The Best Bride

Elizabeth touched Mandy’s paint-smudged cheek. Her dress was wrinkled, her ribbons loose and coming undone, but there was a bright glow of happiness in her child’s eyes that made her heart lighten. Maybe she had made the right decision after all.

“You already know how to read.”

“I know.” Mandy grinned. “She said she’d help me learn better. And we’re going to do counting, too. Here.” She thrust out her papers. “I did these.”

Elizabeth looked at the drawing of what she was pretty sure was supposed to be this large house, a sheet with Mandy’s name painstakingly spelled out in a childish scrawl, and a note from Miss Brickman outlining the homework schedule for the first half of the year.

“You’re supposed to sign this one,” Mandy said, pointing at the note from the teacher. “We’re going to have homework, just like the big kids.” She sounded delighted. Elizabeth wondered how long that would last.

“Someone’s been busy.”

She looked up and saw Travis standing in the doorway. He held a tray containing a plate with several chocolate cupcakes and two glasses of milk.

Mandy’s blue eyes got big. “Mommy, you made cupcakes for me.”

“I thought you weren’t supposed to get out of bed,” Travis said.

“Louise did all the work.”

“Why don’t I believe that?”

“Don’t ask me, because she did.”

“Sure.” He put the tray down on her nightstand, then pulled Mandy off the bed. “Maybe you should change into play clothes before you get crumbs all over that dress. What do you think?”

Mandy looked at her mother, who nodded, then sighed. “Okay, but don’t eat all the cupcakes before I get back.”

“We won’t,” Elizabeth said and watched her daughter scamper out of the room. She glanced at the cupcakes and saw they’d been iced. “Thank you,” she said. “I meant to get back to that, but I must have dozed off.”

“Hey, I opened a can. How hard could it be?” He perched on the edge of the bed. “You’re not overdoing it, are you?”

Exhaustion overwhelmed her with all the subtlety of being hit by a large truck. She tried to smile, but suddenly she was too tired. “Maybe just a little.”

He leaned forward. For a second she thought he was going to kiss her. She found out she had just enough energy left to get excited by the thought, then was disappointed when all he did was lay his hand against her forehead.

“No fever,” he said, “but you should stay in bed for the rest of the day. The last thing you need is to land yourself back in the hospital.”

“I know.” She picked at the bed cover, then looked at him. He’d shaved that morning, but the shadowy darkness of his beard highlighted his strong jaw. He had dark eyes framed by thick lashes. A firm mouth that was threatening to curve into a smile. Nothing in his expression reminded her of the questions he’d asked that morning. Yet that conversation sat in the room like a rather large intrusive elephant.

“I’m sorry,” she said.

His expression hardened, and his mouth pulled into a straight line. “You don’t have to apologize.”

“I want to. You’ve been very kind to me.”

“This is a full-service community.”

She chuckled, then clutched her side. “Travis, don’t make me laugh. It still hurts.”

“Okay, I’ll be serious.”

He leaned closer, bracing one hand on the far side of her body. She wanted to reach up and pull him close. She settled on inhaling the scent of his body. He smelled like a fall day, with a hint of musk thrown in for temptation.

“Tell me your secret,” he said softly.

When she’d first met Sam she’d thought she’d loved him with her whole heart and soul. He only had to look at her to make her want to be with him, next to him, touched by him. She’d learned later that her feelings for Sam Proctor were more about the newness of a physical relationship than anything else. But it had already been too late. She’d committed the ultimate foolish act and fallen in love with him.

Nothing about Sam’s practiced charm had prepared her for Travis’s lethal combination of strength and concern. It would be so easy to lean on those shoulders she admired, to tell him everything. But to what end? Once he knew the truth— She couldn’t even bear to think about it.

“I can’t.” She met his gaze and held it.

“You won’t.”

“Yes. I won’t. Please don’t ask me again. I don’t want to have to lie to you. I haven’t done anything illegal. It’s a silly little secret, but it’s mine to keep. If telling you everything about my past is the price for staying, then I have to leave.”

He studied her a long time. His gaze swept over her face, stopping at her mouth before dipping to her throat and returning. He reached up and touched her cheek, much as she’d touched Mandy’s. But his caress was anything but maternal. Her stomach tightened and her breasts tingled in response.

Before she could say anything, or think about touching him back, he reached down for the comforter folded up at the foot of the bed. He pulled it over her and smoothed it in place. Then he leaned down and brushed his lips against her forehead.

“Go to sleep, darlin’,” he said, and stood up.

She watched him leave the room and close the door quietly behind him. Her eyes burned with unshed tears. It would be so easy to let Travis into her world, she thought sadly. So easy to try to believe again. If she had the strength and the words, she would explain that it wasn’t so much about him. Sure, she couldn’t risk trusting a man again, but worse, she couldn’t trust herself.

Chapter Six (#ulink_2e87befe-cb74-5360-9630-36db0521cb38)

“You’re nervous,” Travis said, taking off his Stetson and sending it across the family room. It landed neatly in the center of a writing desk on the left side of the window.

Elizabeth sank into the leather sofa and rolled her eyes. “Number one, if you keep doing that hat toss trick to impress me, I’m immune.”

“Liar,” he said as he crossed the room.

His khaki uniform, slightly wrinkled from his day at work, made his shoulders look broader and his legs longer. His wide black belt emphasized his trim waist. And yes, she had been lying. The nightly toss of the Stetson got her heart racing as if she’d just climbed three flights of stairs.

He settled on the sofa and grinned. “What’s number two?”

“Number two is I have nothing to be nervous about.”

“Double liar.” He leaned closer, resting his weight on

his elbow. His perfectly trimmed mustache outlined the teasing curve of his mouth. “I’ve made tougher women than you swoon with my cowboy hat, and while there’s no reason to be nervous about having dinner with Rebecca, you are. I can see it in your eyes.”

She opened her mouth to deny his statement, then closed it. He was right; she was nervous. “Okay, just a little.”

He sat up straight, then leaned over and patted her bare leg. “Don’t be. Rebecca’s a sweetheart.” He kept his warm hand on her knee. She told herself she should move away, but she liked it when he touched her.

She raised her eyebrows. “Do you realize that every time a female citizen of Glenwood is mentioned, you’ve dated her?”

“Only if they’re between twenty-five and forty.”