In the Rancher's Arms

But none of that mattered. What bothered her more than anything else was knowing she’d traded one loveless existence for another. Of course, legally they had a month to decide whether or not to stay married. But there was no guarantee, even if they chose to stay together, that they would fall in love.

She had hoped that one day she might meet someone who would truly love her unconditionally, but it didn’t look as though that would happen now. In her desperation to leave Charlotte, she’d agreed to the businesslike terms of marrying Eli—a quick solution to her dilemma. And although it wasn’t the fairy-tale beginning that she would have preferred for their relationship, she had every intention of trying to make their marriage work. She had given her word and that was something she tried never to break.

Sighing, she stared out the passenger window. Most people who were unlucky in love could take consolation in the love they received from their parents as a measure of their self-worth and importance. All she had to look back on was a barely tolerated existence by her father.

She gazed at the surrounding mountains as she swallowed around the huge lump clogging her throat. Her birth had taken her mother’s life, and John Bardwell had never been able to forgive her. Now that he was gone, there was no chance of him ever forgiving her. Not that she thought that would have ever happened. She hadn’t. But with his death, even the slightest possibility of that eventuality had been buried along with him.

Of course, she’d had her nanny—a woman her father paid to raise her. Nanny Marie had cared deeply for her. Victoria had no doubt about that. But it wasn’t the same as a mother’s love. To Marie Gentry, Victoria had represented a job and a way to escape the poverty she had grown up in.

“Is something wrong?” Eli asked as he got back into the truck.

Lost in thought, she hadn’t noticed his return. “I’m just a little tired,” she lied, shaking her head. “I think the time difference must be catching up with me.”

“Why don’t you put your head back and take a nap?” he suggested. “There’s plenty of time. We have a two-hour drive to get to the Rusty Spur.”

“I doubt I could sleep.” She pointed to the mountains in front of them. “I don’t want to miss this view. It’s breathtaking.”

He gave her an odd look. “You really mean that, don’t you?”

“Of course.” Nodding, she released a bit of the tension she had felt since her arrival. “I think it’s beautiful here. I find the mountains absolutely fascinating and everything around me looks like it could be on a Christmas card.”

“You don’t think you’ll mind all this snow?” His tone was conversational, but she could tell he had more than a little interest in her answer.

“Not at all.” Smiling, she continued to gaze at the snow-covered landscape. “We rarely get snow in Charlotte and when we do, there isn’t very much and it doesn’t last more than a day or so.”

“If you’ll remember, I told you the Rusty Spur is in a pretty remote valley,” he warned. “There are times in the winter that we get snowed in for a week or two at a time. You don’t think you’ll mind that?”

“Not as long as I can get out and build a snowman occasionally.” Her smile faded. One of the things he had warned her about during their first phone conversation had been how isolated the ranch was and how much snow the area got during the winter months. “But we discussed this the first time you called to interview me. Didn’t you believe me when I told you I wouldn’t mind it?”

To her surprise, he reached over to cover her hand with his. “It’s one thing to talk about what it would be like to be snowed in. You might feel differently about it when you’re actually in that situation, Tori.”

Her hand tingled from the contact and she could have sworn her heart skipped a beat. Deciding to ignore the excitement coursing through her from his touch, she focused on his shortening of her name. “No one has ever called me anything but Victoria,” she said, thoughtfully.

“Do you mind me calling you Tori?” he asked. His smile increased the warmth spreading through her.

It seemed only fitting that she have a new name for her new life, even if it was just a variation of her given name. “I don’t mind at all. In fact, I like it,” she said decisively. “It’s less formal.”

His hand continuing to engulf hers and the feel of his calloused palm against her much smoother skin caused an interesting little flutter to begin deep in the pit of her stomach. She tried to ignore it, but it suddenly felt as if the spacious cab of the truck got quite a bit smaller.

“I know I won’t mind the weather, but don’t you think it’s a bit late for you to be second-guessing me?” she asked.

He seemed to consider her question a moment before he finally nodded. “I just want to be sure you know what you’ve signed on for.”

She didn’t want to tell him that no matter what she had gotten herself into, she hadn’t had any other options. Nor did she feel ready to discuss her father and the disgrace the Bardwell name had suffered because of his poor decisions. She had even been forced to have her surname legally changed to Anderson—her mother’s maiden name—when she started getting death threats.

If they were going to stay together, at some point she would have to tell Eli everything. But she had a month to find the right way to do that. And if they decided to go their separate ways, he would never need to know that for months she had been followed night and day by investigative reporters. He’d never need to understand the desperation that had driven her to marry a stranger or the guilt she would harbor for the rest of her life.

She took a deep breath. Watching your father cause the financial downfall of hundreds of his clients and lose his financial-consulting firm because of it wasn’t something she was comfortable discussing with someone she barely knew. She had told him that her father died of a heart attack, but he didn’t need to know that stress was the cause.

“Don’t worry about me. If I wasn’t certain of what I’m doing, I wouldn’t be here.” She covered a yawn with her hand. “Maybe I will try to sleep a little. Please wake me when we get close to the ranch. The way you described it when we spoke over the phone, I’d love for my first glimpse of the valley to be from the top of the ridge.”

“I will,” he said, giving her a smile that curled her toes inside her new fur-lined snow boots.

She wasn’t entirely certain she was comfortable with feeling so attracted to her new husband so soon. It could be a plus if their marriage worked. It could spell heartache for her if it didn’t.

When Tori closed her eyes and tried to relax, she decided it would be in her best interest not to dwell on that right now. She had other, more important concerns.

If and when she did tell Eli about her father and her part in the scandal, how would he react to learning that he had married the pariah of Charlotte society? Would he understand that in her desperation to get as far away from the shame and humiliation that she had been driven to search online for an area of the country where the Bardwell name wasn’t as well-known?

Even though she held a master’s degree in financial planning and had been cleared of any involvement in the illegal transactions conducted at the now-defunct Bardwell Investments Agency, no one in the financial industry would hire her. She just hoped that Eli could overlook the fact that she hadn’t exactly been honest with him. And that he had married the daughter of the man who had helped to create the nation’s biggest financial fiasco in recent history.

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