“Lin, you’re not thinking straight.”

“I’m not looking for forever.” She placed her hand tentatively against his chest.

Though it pained him to do so, he grasped her hand and pulled it away before he did something irreversible. “You’re not a fling sort of woman.”

She looked up at him, and he saw a yearning in her eyes that was going to be damn hard to resist if he didn’t get her back inside where his dad and Garrett could serve as a barrier.

“Maybe a fling is exactly what I need.”

The woman was trying to kill him.

“I think we should go in.”

“Why?” She took a deep breath. “We’re both adults, Owen.” She paused again before continuing. “Ones with needs.”

He shook his head. “There are other ways to deal with those needs. Trust me.”

Linnea lowered her gaze. “I’m sorry. I evidently read things wrong.”

Her Cowboy Groom

Trish Milburn

www.millsandboon.co.uk

TRISH MILBURN writes contemporary romance for the Mills & Boon® Cherish™ line and paranormal romance for the Mills & Boon® Nocturne™ series. She’s a two-time Golden Heart Award winner, a fan of walks in the woods and road trips, and a big geek girl, including being a dedicated Whovian and Browncoat. And from her earliest memories, she’s been a fan of Westerns, be they historical or contemporary. There’s nothing quite like a cowboy hero.

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Contents

Cover

Excerpt

Title Page

About the Author

Dedication

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Extract

Copyright

Chapter One

Linnea Holland only had five minutes before opening time for her bridal boutique and a busy day of catering to the romantic dreams of Dallas brides-to-be. Still, that was enough time for one more peek.

She hurried to the back of the building, to the room that held the most gorgeous wedding gown Linnea had ever seen. And it was hers. In two weeks, she would wear the Ellen Clare original design as she walked down the aisle toward her very own prince.

Okay, so Michael wasn’t an actual prince, but he certainly treated her like a queen. The past six months together had been a whirlwind of fancy dinners in fine restaurants, beautiful flower bouquets delivered to her at the store when he had to go out of town on business and an engagement ring that had taken her breath away. As she stood and stared at the dress with lace so delicate it looked as if it might float away into mist if she touched it, she still couldn’t believe she was going to be Mrs. Michael Benson. Sometimes she pinched herself to make sure she wasn’t in the longest, most realistic dream imaginable.

Not only was Michael a successful executive with a big investment firm and drop-dead gorgeous, but somehow out of all the women he could have, he’d chosen her, the middle daughter of two teachers. And it had all started when she accidentally bumped into him coming out of a coffee shop, dousing his crisp white shirt and designer suit with a caramel latte. She’d been mortified, and he’d asked her out on the spot, stunning her speechless. He’d just smiled until she’d remembered how to utter a “Yes.”

It had been the kind of first meeting you saw in movies, and the moment he asked her to marry him she’d been determined to make her wedding like something out of a fairy tale.

She glanced at the clock and hurried out of the room. She might have a fairy-tale wedding on the horizon, but until then she had a business to run. She reached the front door just as she heard Katrina, her business partner, coming in the back.

“Sorry I’m late,” Katrina called out.

Linnea turned the lock on the door, then headed toward the curved white counter in the middle of the store. “You’re not late.”

“Well, late for me,” Katrina said as she shoved her purse into a drawer behind the counter.

Linnea smiled at Katrina. “Considering you’re here at least half an hour early every day, I think one day of right on time isn’t going to mar your record.”

The truth was, Linnea couldn’t have asked for a better partner in her business. Katrina possessed a lot of business savvy, loved the boutique as much as Linnea did and was an excellent salesperson. Michael liked to tease them by calling them the odd couple because Katrina was petite with a stylish black bob, while Linnea stood several inches taller and had long, wavy red hair. They might look different, but in all the ways that mattered they were a perfect business match.

“So, how many times have you been back to stare at your dress this morning?” Katrina asked before taking a drink of her coffee.

“Only once.”

Katrina laughed a little. “Going into withdrawal yet?”

Linnea bumped Katrina’s shoulder with her own. Before she could think of an appropriate response, however, their first appointment of the day arrived— Rena Cavendish and her very demanding mother. Linnea put on her best smile and went to work.

By the time Rena’s mother finally agreed on the last of the details for her daughter’s wedding, Linnea felt as if she needed about twelve hours of sleep to recuperate. Still, she didn’t let her smile waver as the Cavendish women made their departure. It was her job to make them happy, to make them believe helping them was the absolute highlight of her day. Most of the time, she did love every minute of her job. But there was the occasional mother like Marilyn Cavendish or a true bridezilla who made keeping her smile from faltering extra challenging.

When Rena and Marilyn disappeared around the corner, Linnea felt like massaging her aching facial muscles. She glanced across the store to where Katrina was aiding a young bride who, by contrast, was as sweet as pie.

The door chime drew Linnea’s attention. A woman perhaps a few years older than her with blond hair pulled back in a chignon walked in.

“Good morning,” Linnea said, smiling more naturally this time. “How can I help you?”

“You’re Linnea Holland.” The fact that the words weren’t a question left Linnea with an odd feeling. Maybe it was the way the woman was staring at her without looking away.

“Yes. I’m sorry, have we met?”

“You’re engaged to Michael Benson?”

Linnea searched for a reason for the strange conversation. “I am. Do you know Michael?”

“You’re going to want to call off that wedding.”

Linnea jerked back a bit at the woman’s words and what seemed like anger barely banked below the surface. “And why would I do that?”

“Because he’s already married. To me.”

Linnea gripped the edge of the counter to steady herself. Before she realized Katrina had moved away from the customer she was helping, she was there next to Linnea, placing a comforting hand on her arm.

“Ma’am, what is the meaning of this?” Katrina said softly to shield her words from the young bride-to-be.

A glance in that direction, however, told Linnea that the unexpected conversation had not gone unnoticed.

The woman also looked toward the customer. The latter held a wedding gown in front of her as she looked in the mirror and failed to do a very convincing job of pretending she wasn’t listening to them. Shifting her gaze back to Linnea, the woman claiming to be Michael’s wife stepped closer.

“Listen, I’m not accusing you of husband stealing or anything.”

“Good, because I’m not,” Linnea said with more than a little heat in her response. She wanted this woman and her crazy accusations to go away.

The sympathy that appeared in the other woman’s eyes scared Linnea more than anything she’d said.

“My name is Danielle Benson. Michael and I have been married for six years.”

Linnea shook her head. “No, you’re wrong.”

“I assure you I’m not.” Danielle pulled a photo out of her purse and placed it atop the counter.

Linnea’s breath caught as she stared down at a photo of Michael, a little younger, in a tux and holding the hands of the woman who now stood in front of Linnea. The younger version of Danielle wore a wedding gown and was looking up at Michael as if she couldn’t believe she’d gotten so lucky. Linnea knew that feeling. Again, she shook her head. “Photos are remarkably easy to manipulate.”

Danielle patted her purse. “I have a copy of our marriage license.”

“All that would prove is that you were married at one point.” Sure, Michael had said nothing about being married before, but she needed to believe that if he ever had been he was now divorced. The alternative was just too horrible to be believed. Her Michael wouldn’t do something like that.

“I know this is hard to hear, and trust me when I tell you that it isn’t any easier to say. I didn’t want to believe my husband was cheating on me, but when I found out that he was actually planning to marry someone else, someone who had no idea he was already married... Well, I knew I couldn’t let him hurt you like he has me.”

“No, this can’t be right. You’re mistaken. There are probably lots of Michael Bensons.” Even as Linnea tried to explain away Danielle’s claims, doubt began to seep in like water finding the cracks in a rock. There might be a lot of Michael Bensons, but they didn’t look like her Michael. Linnea’s hearing seemed to fade, and the world around her started to spin in nauseating circles as Danielle explained how she’d hired a private investigator to follow Michael and that the PI was the one who’d relayed that Linnea was totally unaware of Michael’s marital status.

In the blink of an eye, the meager contents of Linnea’s stomach staged a revolt that sent her racing for the bathroom. She slammed the door behind her and made it to the toilet just in time. After she finally stopped retching, she found she didn’t have the strength to push herself up from the floor. And then the tears came.

She needed to call Michael, to straighten this mess out. But as she sat on the floor in her favorite teal pencil skirt, doubts and questions began to peck at her like the beaks of sinister birds. The fact that she’d never met Michael’s parents, how he’d never taken her to any company function and all the long business trips. She strangled on a sob when she considered those trips hadn’t been for business at all but that he’d been going home to his wife.

A knock on the door was followed by Katrina’s voice. “Are you okay?”

No, she wasn’t okay. She might never be okay again.

When Linnea didn’t answer, Katrina opened the door.

“Oh, hon.” Katrina kneeled beside her and pushed an errant lock of hair back behind Linnea’s shoulder. “I’m so sorry.”

Linnea met her friend’s gaze. “You believe her?”

The sympathy on Katrina’s face, different from Danielle’s but no less devastating, caused Linnea’s insides to twist into painful knots. “Is she still here?”

“No, she left.”

“Please bring me my phone.”

“Don’t you think you should give yourself a few minutes?”

“No. I need to know the truth now.”

Katrina left and returned a few moments later with the phone. Linnea’s hands were shaking so much she nearly fumbled the phone right into the toilet.

“You want me to dial for you?”

Linnea shook her head. Katrina knew her well enough that she stepped out of the bathroom, leaving Linnea alone. Linnea closed the door and somehow managed to dial Michael’s cell number. She didn’t think she’d be able to handle it if she got his voice mail, but part of her dreaded talking to him, too.

“Hey there,” he answered, startling her. “How’s my favorite girl?”

A surge of pure anger raced through her veins. “I just met your wife.”

Please deny it. Please say it isn’t true, that Danielle is a crazy woman.

But as moments passed without a response from Michael, Linnea’s heart broke completely in two. Her dreams shattered around her like exploding glass.

“Linnea—”

She ended the call before he could say anything else. Just the tone of his voice as he said her name told her all she needed to know. He’d been lying to her for months, from the moment he met her. And she’d fallen for it, every last word.

She had no idea how much time passed as she sat on the bathroom floor, too stunned to move. Every minute she’d spent with Michael, every conversation they’d shared, every promise he’d made with loving words—she went back over all of it, searching for some clue that she was being duped. How could she have been so blind?

A gentle knock on the door was followed by Katrina poking her head in. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

Linnea just stared at her friend, unable to form a response.

“Why don’t you go home?” Katrina said. “I’ll handle things here.”

Something about those words finally penetrated Linnea’s mind enough that she found the strength to push herself to her feet. “No, I’ll be out in a minute.”

Katrina looked as if she might argue, but instead she gave a small nod and left Linnea alone again.

Linnea brushed her teeth and rinsed out her mouth. She smoothed her hair and took a deep breath that did little to fortify her. Still, she wasn’t going to let Michael rob her of anything else, certainly not the joy she derived from her job.

But as she walked out into the showroom filled with stunning white gowns, ethereal veils and all manner of happily ever after, it all suddenly felt like a bigger lie than the ones Michael had told.

She placed her hand against the roiling in her stomach. “I think I will go home.” Needing to get away as fast as she could, she grabbed her purse and raced for her car.

Her phone rang as she crossed the parking lot. When she saw Michael’s name, she ignored the call. He called back almost immediately and again as she was driving home. To keep from tossing her phone out the window, she turned it off and shoved it deep into her purse.

When she pulled into the parking space in front of her condo, she couldn’t remember how she’d gotten there. Her bottom lip quivered, her fragile hold on her emotions threatening to disintegrate. Through some miracle of self-control, she made it inside before the fresh wave of tears would no longer be denied. On wobbly legs, she barely made it to the couch before the silent tears turned into heart-rending sobs.

* * *

LINNEA WOKE SLOWLY to realize she must have cried herself to sleep. The angle of the sun indicated it was sometime after noon. The throbbing in her head and the fact that her eyes were itchy with dried tears told her the horrible events of the morning hadn’t just been a nightmare.

She lay there staring at the dust motes floating in the beam of sunlight coming through the window. Part of her wanted to go back to sleep, but she knew it wouldn’t help her feel any better. It wasn’t going to make the truth go away. She pushed herself to a sitting position and wondered how she was going to break the news to her parents, her sisters, her friends. How did she tell all of them that her fairy tale was nothing but a cruel lie?

Anger welled up inside her, competing for space with the pain gnawing away at her. Why would Michael do this? Had he truly never cared about her? About his wife?

There was nothing she wanted more in that moment than to be done with all the hard conversations. Actually, what she wanted even more was to run away from her life. How could she go back to peddling the dream of wedded bliss when hers had been snatched away in the most awful way possible?

Knowing that breaking the news wasn’t going to get any easier if she waited longer, she dug her phone out of her purse and turned it on. The screen revealed she had a dozen missed calls. She listened to one from Katrina asking if she needed anything, but the ten calls from Michael she deleted without listening to them. Nothing he could say could make her forgive him for breaking her heart and making a complete fool out of her. The other call was from Chloe, her best friend since they’d roomed together in college, the woman who was supposed to be her matron of honor.

“Hey, Lin. Just calling to finalize some details.” In the midst of the call, Chloe suddenly laughed. She sounded as if she’d pulled the phone away from her mouth when she said, “Cut it out.” Next came a distinctively male chuckle, no doubt Chloe’s new husband, Wyatt. Linnea’s heart squeezed at the sound of her friend so happy and in love, even if she was scolding her husband. “Sorry about that,” Chloe continued. “Call me when you get a chance.”

Linnea deleted the message as if it would erase the sounds of marital bliss, as well. She was happy that Chloe had found a good man to love and be loved by, truly she was. At least she hoped Wyatt was everything he claimed to be, not like Michael and his web of lies.

She shook her head, not wanting to let what had happened turn her into someone who was suspicious of every man in the world. After all, she knew deep down there were lots of good guys like her father, like Chloe’s dad.

She scrolled to her parents’ number, but she couldn’t make herself hit the Call button. Her mother had been just as excited about the wedding as Linnea, if not more so. The news that Michael wasn’t who he’d seemed to be would break her mother’s heart, too.

Deciding to wait awhile longer to make that call, she instead forced herself to dial Chloe’s number. Better to test out her ability to share the news on her best friend instead of risking turning into a blubbering mess on the phone with her mother. Her mom would no doubt rush right over to wrap her baby in her arms when Linnea just wanted to be left alone. The last thing she wanted was to look into anyone else’s eyes and see the pity she’d detected in Katrina’s.

Her fingers shook as she hit Chloe’s number, and she bit her bottom lip to keep from crying again.

“Hey,” Chloe answered. “I was beginning to think you were ignoring me.”

Despite her best efforts, a tear broke free and ran down Linnea’s cheek. “No, I... It’s just been a bad day.” She sniffed against a fresh rush of tears.

“Lin, what’s wrong?”

“The wedding’s off,” she said, her voice shaking.

“Off? What happened?” The sound of a closing door came through the phone.

“Michael is...” She stopped to swallow against the large lump clogging her throat as if she’d swallowed a lemon whole. “He’s already married.”

She struggled to share everything that had happened that morning with Chloe. By the time she was finished, hot, salty tears were streaming down her face again, burning trails in her skin like lava flows.

“Lin, I don’t know what to say. ‘I’m sorry’ is not enough.”

Linnea swiped at another tear. “I feel so hollow inside, and I have no idea how I’m going to go back to work and pretend I’m happy. Nobody will buy a wedding gown from someone who is wearing a broken heart on her sleeve.”

“Come here.”

“What?”

“There’s a free bedroom at the ranch now since I moved out, and Dad, Garrett and Owen are away from the house most of the day. No one will bother you there. You won’t have to smile and pretend.”

This was why she loved Chloe so much. She understood her, often better than her own family did. “Thanks for the offer, but I’ve got so much to take care of here. Things to cancel, a business to run.”

“That’s why they make phones and computers and business partners.”

As much as she wanted to run away, she couldn’t. She had responsibilities, and she didn’t want Michael to know how badly he’d hurt her. She had to be strong, no matter how much it hurt.

Banging on the front door startled her.

“Linnea, let me explain,” Michael shouted through the door.

“Thanks for listening, Chloe, but I need to make some more calls.”

“It’s a standing invitation. You are welcome here anytime, for however long you need.”

Fresh tears popped into Linnea’s eyes, these because despite everything she was lucky to have the absolute best friend in the world.

Michael knocked again. “I’m not leaving until you talk to me.”

The last thing she wanted to do was look into his deceitful eyes and listen to more lies fall from his lips. So she ignored him and went up to her bedroom. For a long time, she feared he was going to live up to his promise that he wouldn’t leave until he talked to her. But after a little more than an hour, she watched as he drove away.

Chloe’s words echoed in her head as she made her way down to the kitchen and looked in her fridge for something to eat. But as she stood staring at the contents of her refrigerator, nothing looked appealing. Even though her body was hungry, she couldn’t imagine anything tasting good. So she closed the door and leaned back against it.

She wandered from room to room as if she might find peace and a release from the pain in one of them. When she found herself in her bedroom again, she sank onto the side of the bed and realized she couldn’t put off telling her family the news any longer. She didn’t want to risk her mom or one of her sisters stopping by the store and finding out something was wrong from Katrina.

After forcing herself to take several slow, deep breaths, she hit the number for her parents’ house.

“Hey, sweetie,” her mom answered. “I was just about to call you and see if you wanted to have lunch with Heather and me. We’re going shopping for the baby afterward, if you think you could pry yourself away from work for a while.”

Linnea’s lip trembled again at the idea of being around that much happiness when her world was falling apart. Not only had her older sister, Heather, been married to a great guy for two years, but they were expecting their first baby around Thanksgiving. A mere three months separated Linnea from becoming an aunt for the first time, but today the thought only made her want to cry. She’d dreamed of having a bundle of joy to call her own, as well, but now...

“I’m sorry, Mom. I’m not up for lunch today.”

“What’s wrong? I can hear something’s wrong in your voice.”

Linnea wanted to believe that the telling of what had happened would be easier the second time through, but she was wrong. It was so much worse.

“Oh, honey. I’ll be right over.”

“No, I’m fine.”

“You don’t have to pretend to be brave. You’re my daughter, and I intend to be there for you.”

Desperation filled Linnea to overflowing. She loved her mom dearly, was thankful she had caring parents who were always there for their children when they needed them. But for some reason, her mom had never grasped that when Linnea said she wanted to be alone, she actually meant it.

“I won’t be here. I’m going to visit Chloe for a few days.” She hadn’t meant to take Chloe up on her offer, but the words had flown out of her mouth before she’d even thought about them. But now that she’d committed, it felt right. She could give herself a few days to get over the shock, to make all the necessary calls to cancel her fantasy wedding, to prepare herself for going back to the work of encouraging customers to buy in to the dream of forever.

“Honey, are you sure?”

“Positive.” And she realized it was true.

When she finally promised her mother that she’d call if she needed her for anything, anything at all, and agreed to let her mother make some of the necessary cancellation calls, Linnea tossed a few items of clothing and toiletries in a bag, grabbed her laptop and hurried for her car. She didn’t think she breathed until she drove out of her neighborhood and away from the chance that either her mother or Michael might show up at her front door.

She pointed her car toward Blue Falls, the small town in the Hill Country that Chloe called home. It might not be Linnea’s home, but right now the familiar was the last thing she needed. If she had only one wish, it would be that Blue Falls held some magical way of making her forget Michael Benson and the giant hole he’d left where her heart should be.

Chapter Two

“Come on back to my place,” Tiffany Clark whispered into Owen Brody’s ear as she clung to him like a barnacle. “You know you want to.”

Part of him was tempted by her curvy figure and her warm lips nibbling on his ear. Plenty of times he would have taken her up on it. But tonight he was just dog tired after a day of working on the ranch with his brother and dad and then a couple of hours devoted to training the horse he hoped would make a good roping horse. And then he’d gotten the bright idea to come into town for a couple of beers and to scope out the female landscape at the dance hall. Halfway into his first beer, he wished he’d stayed home and gone to bed.

Now, if that wasn’t a sad statement about his life. It wasn’t as if he was an old codger, but for some reason his normal routine of working hard followed by playing hard just wasn’t doing it for him tonight.

He gently pushed Tiffany away from him. “Not tonight, Tiff. I’d be falling in my plate if I had a plate.”

His rebuff earned him a pout from Tiffany, and for a moment he reconsidered passing on the pleasure she was offering. But he had the oddest feeling that his being tired wasn’t the only reason he wasn’t dragging Tiffany and her tasty curves to the nearest bed. Hell, the nearest horizontal surface. But damned if he knew why she didn’t look quite as appealing as she once had.

Owen slipped off the bar stool where he was sitting and tossed a couple of bills on the bar.

“Calling it a night so soon?” asked James Turner, who was tending bar tonight.

“Yeah, just hit the wall.”

James shot him a crooked grin. “I think hell just froze over.”

“Be careful or I’ll take my tip back.”

James just laughed and moved to fill another drink order.

Owen stepped out of Tiffany’s reach before she could attach herself to him again and made for the door. He stifled a yawn as he headed out the door and across the parking lot to his truck. A stiff breeze sent a paper cup tumbling across the parking lot, and thunder rumbled in the distance, promising some good sleeping weather.

As he drove toward home, a few sprinkles of rain began to fall. Just as he passed Crider Road, he noticed emergency flashers blinking on a car up ahead. As he got closer, he spotted a small silver car pulled halfway off the road. A woman wearing a skirt and high heels stood beside the car and then proceeded to kick the flat rear tire. He couldn’t help but chuckle at the image she made even though she was obviously upset.

He pulled in behind her and parked, leaving his headlights on to illuminate her and the car as he slipped out of the truck.

“I don’t think that’s going to help,” he said as he approached her.

When she looked toward him, he hesitated for a moment as recognition hit. “Linnea? What are you doing out here?”

She took a step back as she shaded her eyes against the bright light. He realized she must have figured out she wasn’t in the safest position, broken down alone on the side of a rural road at night.

“It’s Owen Brody. Are you headed to the ranch?”

She seemed to deflate more than relax. “That was the plan, but my tire had a different idea.” She sounded even more drained than he felt.

He walked the rest of the distance to the rear of her car. “Don’t worry. I’ll get this changed for you.”

“Thank you.” Her voice sounded so small that he met her eyes and saw a sadness there that he’d never seen before in his sister’s best friend.

“You okay?”

“Been a rough day.”

He wasn’t a “share your feelings” sort of guy, but for some reason he wanted to ask her what was wrong. Instead, he asked her to pop the car’s trunk so he could get the spare before the approaching storm reached them.

She moved to comply and had to catch herself against the side of the car when she twisted her ankle off the edge of the pavement. The curse that came from her shocked Owen, it being so at odds with the classy lady he’d always known her to be.

“Did you hurt yourself?”

“I’m fine.”

She sounded anything but fine, but he wasn’t going to push. He knew better than to wave the proverbial red flag in front of a woman already in a foul mood.

When the trunk latch disengaged, he opened the lid and found the spare tire, one of those little donut deals. “Hate to tell you this, but your spare is as flat as a pancake, too.”

“Of course it is.” Linnea bit her lip and lifted her gaze to the darkened sky just as the raindrops picked up their pace.

He closed the trunk. “Come on. I’ll give you a ride to Chloe’s. We’ll get your tires fixed in the morning.”

“I...I was actually going to your house.”

He looked at her, growing more confused by the moment.

“I’m sorry,” she said as she shook her head. “I should have called her back. She offered me the extra room for a few days, but I see she didn’t tell you all about it. If you could give me a ride into town, I’ll get a room at the inn.”

When had his house become his sister’s bed-and-breakfast? Although he had to admit Linnea was a lot nicer to look at than the last guest they’d had. Not that Wyatt wasn’t a decent-enough-looking guy, but he was a guy. They already had enough testosterone and stinky socks around without adding more.

“Don’t be silly,” he said. “Come on before you get soaked.”

Linnea hesitated before opening the back door and grabbing a couple of bags and her purse. As she started toward him, he saw her wince when she put weight on her twisted ankle. He’d never liked seeing a woman in pain, so he stepped up beside her and wrapped his arm around her waist, taking some of her weight.

She stiffened for a moment before allowing her muscles to relax a little. “Thanks.”

“No thanks necessary. Rescuing damsels in distress, it’s what I do.”

He expected a laugh, a smile, something. But when she offered none of those, he realized this was not the same Linnea who’d been texting Chloe pictures of wedding stuff for months. Someone who was as happy as Linnea supposedly was about her upcoming marriage didn’t look as if someone had run over her dog and then laughed about it. But it wasn’t his business. Female drama was Chloe’s department.

As the rain picked up its pace, he ushered her toward the driver’s-side door of his truck. “It’ll be easier for you to get in over here. Can’t have you toppling into the ditch.”

She made an attempt to smile at him this time, but damned if it didn’t look shaky and as if she might dissolve into tears at any moment. Oh, hell. He so didn’t do tears. He had to get to the ranch and hand her off to his sister. As she slid across the truck to the passenger side, he sent a quick text to Chloe to get her butt over to his house because he’d just picked up her best friend on the side of the road.

By the time they reached the house, the rain was coming down in slanting sheets. He parked but didn’t get out of the truck. Part of him wanted to curse that he hadn’t taken Tiffany up on her offer. A woman who had a night of naughtiness on her mind—that he could deal with. Sitting in a truck with a woman who looked on the verge of tears as the heavens unloaded on them? Not so much.

His phone buzzed with a text from his sister. “Chloe says she’ll be here as soon as the rain lets up.”

“She doesn’t have to get out in this.” Linnea shook her head. “I should have just stayed at home.”

Yeah, something was definitely wrong in happily-ever-after land. Knowing he was going to kick himself for asking, he did anyway. “What’s wrong?”

He thought she wasn’t going to answer at first, but then she took a shaky breath. “I’m not getting married after all.”

Oh, hell, why had he opened his big mouth?

Linnea shifted her gaze out the window, through the stream of water running down the other side of the glass. “Turns out I was engaged to someone who was already married.”

He cursed, couldn’t help it. He searched for the appropriate thing to say, but came up empty save for a weak “Sorry.”

“Me, too.”

Part of him was curious, but he wasn’t digging himself deeper into this emotional hole. Instead, he hopped out into the rain that had slackened a fraction and hurried around to her side of the truck. He opened the door and helped her out and hurried with her to the porch. He made sure she was safely up the steps before he ran back to the truck for her bags.

When he reached the porch, he found her standing there waiting for him, her arms wrapped around her wet body, her hair dripping. Despite the fact that it was early September in Texas, he had the strongest urge to wrap her in a blanket to make sure she didn’t catch a chill.

Reminding himself that Linnea was a grown woman and perfectly capable of taking care of herself, flat tires notwithstanding, he opened the door and motioned for her to precede him inside.

It wasn’t until he followed her that he realized he should have gone first. Luckily, his dad and Garrett were kicked back watching TV, but one of them could just as easily have been strolling through the living room in his underwear. He didn’t think Linnea needed to be assaulted with that image, even if she hadn’t just had the worst day ever.

“Linnea?” Wayne Brody got to his feet. Before he could say anything else, Owen shook his head a little where Linnea couldn’t see him. He saw acknowledgment in his dad’s eyes before his dad crossed the living room and gave Linnea a hug. “It’s good to see you.”

Linnea pulled out of his arms. “I’ll get you all wet.”

His dad laughed. “Honey, I don’t think a few raindrops are going to do me in.”

Owen lifted Linnea’s bag a little higher. “You want to change into something dry?”

Linnea met his eyes for a moment, then nodded. “Thanks.” She took the bag and headed for Chloe’s old room.

No one said anything until the door clicked closed.

“What’s going on?” Garrett asked from where he’d sunk onto the arm of the couch.

Owen kept his voice low so Linnea wouldn’t hear. “Chloe told Linnea she could stay here for a few days, but they got their wires crossed somehow. I found Linnea on the side of the road with a flat tire.”

“Why would she want to stay here?” his dad asked. “She and Chloe got wedding stuff to do or something?”

Owen glanced toward the hallway to make sure Linnea was still in the bedroom. “She said the wedding is off.”

“Off?”

Owen shrugged. “That’s what she said.”

“And Chloe thought the best place for her was here?” Garrett asked.

“I guess ’cause there’s an extra bedroom here. At Chloe’s she’d have to sleep on the couch.”

“And have to see happy newlyweds, the last thing she probably wants to see right now,” Wayne said.

So maybe Linnea staying in the extra room here did make more sense. A heads-up would have been nice, though.

After Owen went to change out of his own wet clothes, he noticed that Linnea hadn’t come out of the bedroom. Had she fallen asleep? Or was she just hiding? He had no idea what to do, if he was supposed to do anything. Maybe the best thing was to just leave her alone, let Chloe take care of things when she got here. But from the sound of the rain, that might be a while.

The living room sat empty when he walked back in. He found his dad in the kitchen pulling a bowl of hot chili out of the microwave. Beyond him in the utility room, Garrett was shoving a load of dirty clothes into the washing machine.

“Here, take this to Linnea,” Wayne said as he added a sleeve of crackers and a spoon to the wooden tray, part of a set Chloe had gotten them last Christmas for when they ate in front of the TV during football games.

“Me?”

Wayne cocked an eyebrow. “Yeah, she doesn’t bite.”

But what if she was in the bedroom crying? “Shouldn’t we just leave her alone until she’s ready to come out?”

“She might not come out tonight. And chances are if she’s upset she hasn’t eaten.”

Owen bit down on the urge to ask why his dad didn’t take the chili to Linnea, instead grabbing the tray. Might as well get it over with. When he reached the guest room, he held the tray in one hand while he knocked on the door with the other. He heard movement inside before Linnea opened the door. Thank God she didn’t look as if she’d been crying, at least not recently. But there was evidence of earlier tears in the puffiness around her eyes.

“Dad warmed up some chili for you.”

“He didn’t have to do that.”

“Wasn’t a problem. We tend to make enough to feed half of Texas when we cook chili.”

Linnea smiled a little as she reached out and took the tray. “Thank you.”

After an awkward moment, he nodded and started to walk away.

“Owen?”

He looked back at her. The unsure hesitance on her face was so unlike Linnea. She was usually full of life and buzzing around like a bee, always doing something. She and Chloe had been the perfect college roommates. Seeing her look broken and sad left him with the most helpless feeling he’d had in a very long time.

“Thanks, for everything. I’ll get out of your hair as soon as I can get the tire fixed.”

While part of him had no idea what to do with a heartbroken woman in his house, he got the oddest feeling that maybe she was just where she needed to be at the moment.

“Don’t worry about it. The room is just sitting here empty. If you can stand being around us, you’re welcome to stay. You class up the joint.”

When she offered him the hint of a smile, it made him happier than it should.

* * *

LINNEA KNEW SHE should leave the bedroom and be social, especially since she’d dropped in on the Brody men unannounced. But she just couldn’t make herself do it. She feared she’d lose her tenuous grip on her control and start crying in front of them. And despite the fact that they’d been around Chloe for years, she doubted they knew how to deal with an overly emotional female. No, it was better if she just stayed out of sight for a while. In fact, she texted Chloe that there was no need for her to get out in the rain even though the house she shared with Wyatt was only a few miles away on another part of the ranch. She’d just talk to her the next day, when hopefully Linnea would have more control over her heartbreak.

She didn’t feel much like eating, but her stomach had other ideas. It was empty and demanding to be fed. She’d not eaten anything since breakfast, and honestly she was a little light-headed from lack of food. So she sat in the comfortable reading chair in the corner and took a bite of the chili. She thought she’d only be able to manage a few spoonfuls, but she ended up emptying the bowl and half the sleeve of crackers.

Linnea felt no better about the state of her life, but at least she wasn’t hungry on top of that.

The minutes ticked by at an agonizingly slow pace. She was beginning to think coming to the ranch had been a very bad idea. Maybe she should have gone somewhere no one knew her like the beach, on a cruise, the other side of the world.

Her phone buzzed, drawing her out of a daydream about lying in the sun in the Caribbean. When she saw that it was Michael, her bottom lip quivered. She wouldn’t have thought it possible, but her heart broke into even more pieces. How many times had seeing his name on her phone display made her smile? Sent joy coursing through her heart? Too many to count. But now it just made her want to crush the phone in her hand until it was nothing but dust. With her fingers shaking, she blocked his number. And then the tears started to fall again.

She curled into the bed and covered her head with a pillow, hoping it muffled the sound enough that no one would hear her. Having an unexpected guest drop in was bad enough. But having that guest turn into a blubbering mess was even worse.

Still, she couldn’t help it. She’d thought putting distance between her and Michael would be a good thing, but she actually felt worse. And she couldn’t contain the hurt anymore, so she let it flow out as quietly as she could when what she really wanted to do was scream and wail and ugly cry until there was nothing left inside her.

Linnea fell asleep with her clothes on and the tears still flowing. When she woke the next morning, she realized it was because she heard Owen, Garrett and their dad getting ready to head out to work. Judging by how she felt, she knew she had to be quite a sight with her puffy, itchy eyes, stuffy nose and pounding headache. And her body ached as if she’d been body-slammed.

She lay in the bed staring at the ceiling as footsteps came down the hall, then paused for a moment outside her door before moving on. Was it Owen? His dad? Owen had always been the wildest of the Brody clan, according to Chloe, moving from job to job and never one to turn down an opportunity to have a good time. But the night before, he’d acted more like his sister, caring and offering a helping hand. Maybe she’d looked as fragile as she’d felt, and he’d been afraid she’d break.

After the house grew quiet, she still couldn’t force herself out of bed. She hated feeling so miserable, so pathetic, but she just couldn’t muster the energy to move.

Several minutes later, she heard a door open and close and wondered if one of the guys had forgotten something. But then there was a light knock on her door.

“Lin? You awake?” Chloe asked.

She thought about not answering, letting Chloe think she was asleep, but her friend had given her a place to retreat to. The least she could do was thank her for that. “Yeah.”

The door opened slowly before Chloe poked her head through the opening. “Hey. How are you doing?”

Linnea took a shaky breath. “I’ve been better.”

Chloe came fully into the room and sat on the side of the bed. She took one of Linnea’s hands between hers. “I’m so sorry. I want to do Michael bodily harm for hurting you, betraying you like that.”

“You’re not the only one.”

“Did he give you any sort of explanation why he’d be that cruel?”

“I didn’t give him the chance.”

“Well, good. I can’t imagine a single thing he could say that would make him any less of a worthless human being.”

Linnea knew everything Chloe was saying was true, but it still hurt. She didn’t want Michael to be a worthless human being. She wanted the past twenty-four hours to be nothing more than a horrible nightmare brought on by bad seafood. She desperately wanted to wake up from that nightmare to find that Michael was the loving, caring man he’d been over the past six months. But as she looked at the righteous anger in her best friend’s eyes, she knew every horrible moment had been all too real.

Chloe squeezed Linnea’s hand in what felt like a grip of solidarity. “I’m going to make you some French toast. It’s never failed us before.”

True, French toast had become their go-to breakfast whenever anything went wrong in college—bad grade, rotten date, even breakups. But this was so far beyond even the awesome healing properties of French toast.

“Don’t you need to get to work?”

“I can go in later.”

Linnea shook her head. “I don’t want you shifting your life around for me.”

“Don’t be silly. You’re my best friend. This is what best friends are for.”

Linnea placed her free hand atop Chloe’s. “Please don’t take this the wrong way, but I don’t think anything is going to help how I feel right now other than time. Or possibly a lobotomy.”

The helpless look on Chloe’s face nearly made Linnea cry again. But, bless her, Chloe nodded before she leaned forward and wrapped Linnea in her arms. Linnea had to bite her lip to keep tears from falling.

“You need anything, no matter how small or how big, you let me know. I know you like to be alone to deal with things, but sometimes it doesn’t feel right, like now. It feels like I’m abandoning you.”

Linnea pulled away. “You’ve given me the one thing I need most, a place to get away.” A place to hide, a voice in her mind said. “Though I do feel bad about being in the way of your dad and brothers.”

“Don’t worry about that. And you know they’ve always liked you.”

“Did you tell them what happened?”

Chloe shook her head. “No. That’s not my place. Though Dad knew the wedding was off when I talked to him last night.”

Linnea nodded. “I told Owen since I showed up out of the blue. Sorry I didn’t call you back and let you know I was coming. I wasn’t thinking.”

“No need to apologize. You’re here now, and you can stay however long you want to.”

“Thanks.” She glanced toward the sun streaming in the window, the cheery brightness so at odds with her mood. The downpour the night before had been a more suitable match.

Chloe stood, drawing Linnea’s attention away from the window. “I’ll go and get out of your hair. Make yourself at home, okay?”

Linnea nodded. When she heard the front door close, she tried to force herself from the bed. But in the end, she slid back under the covers and sank into her heartache again. In that moment, she hated Michael every bit as much as she’d ever loved him. This time, her tears were born of anger that he’d made her feel this way, that he’d stolen her will to even get out of bed and face the day.

When she woke again, the morning was about to give way to afternoon. She ached even worse than she had earlier that morning, and that, more than anything else, prompted her to finally get up. She walked to the window and looked out over the gentle rise and fall of the ranch that spread for miles. It was so different from where she’d grown up and now lived in Dallas, but she’d always liked it. She’d never met anyone who fit their surroundings more than the Brodys. It was as if the land were a member of their family, their flesh and blood. The closest she’d ever come to that kind of connection with a place was her shop, but when she thought of it now it felt as if that relationship had been stabbed in the heart, as well.

Linnea forced herself to pull some clean clothes from her bag and head to the bathroom. A shower wasn’t going to heal her wounded heart, but maybe it would make her feel halfway human again.

She stood under the steaming stream of water, soaking the heat into her aching body, trying to forget why she felt so wretched. But the more she tried to forget that she’d nearly married an already married man, the more that horrible truth burned itself into her thoughts. By the time she got dressed and left the bathroom, she felt as if she’d worked an entire day. Who knew having your heart stomped on could be so exhausting?

When she reached the kitchen, it was past lunchtime. But she still nabbed a chocolate glazed donut from a bakery box. As she took the first bite, she noticed a note with her name on it sitting in the middle of the table.

Gone to get your tires fixed. Back later. O.

She smiled a little bit. Underneath the party boy exterior, Owen Brody just might have a nice streak in him.

She walked slowly through the house, pausing to look at familiar family photos. She was even in a couple of the snapshots with Chloe from their college days. They looked so happy and carefree. Hard to believe that little more than a day ago, she’d still been happy. But that emotion seemed so far away now.

Shaking her head at the self-pity that was threatening to consume her whole, she headed out onto the porch and the heat of the day. She stopped short when she saw her car parked in the graveled area between the house and the barn. Part of her sorrow gave way to guilt. While she was sleeping the morning away, Owen had already gotten her tires fixed and brought her car back to the ranch. She scanned the area but didn’t see him. No doubt he was already out riding on the back forty somewhere, doing whatever ranchers did every day.

Despite still feeling shaky, she descended the steps and started walking. The day was quite warm, but she didn’t care. Though she spent most of her time indoors working, there was something therapeutic about getting out in the sunshine under a wide blue sky. It almost made her believe things weren’t so bad.

But they were.

She walked the length of the driveway and back. When she approached the house, Roscoe and Cletus, the Brodys’ two lovable basset hounds, came ambling around the corner of the porch.

“Hey, guys,” she said as she sank onto the front steps and proceeded to scratch them both under their chins. “You’re just as handsome as ever.”

“Why, thank you.”

She jumped at the sound of Owen’s voice. The dogs jumped, too, probably because she had. She glanced up to where Owen stood at the corner of the porch. “You made me scare the dogs.”

“Sorry. But I was taught to thank someone when they pay me a compliment.”

She shook her head. “Nice to see your ego is still intact.”

“Ouch.”

She laughed a little at his mock affront, something she wouldn’t have thought possible that morning. She ought to thank him for that moment of reprieve, but she didn’t want to focus on why she’d thought she might never laugh or even smile again. Instead, she nodded toward her car. “Thanks for getting the tires fixed so quickly. How much do I owe you?”

“Nothing.”

“I’m perfectly capable of paying my own bills.”

“I’m sure you are. Still, I don’t think fixing a couple of flats is going to send me to the poorhouse.” With that he tapped the brim of his cowboy hat and headed toward the barn.

As he walked away, she noticed how nice he looked in those worn jeans. No wonder he didn’t have trouble finding women.

Oh, my God! She was looking at Owen’s butt. Owen, as in Chloe’s little brother Owen. The kid who’d once waited on her and Chloe outside Chloe’s room and doused them with a supersoaker, the guy who had earned the nickname Horndog Brody.

She jerked her gaze away, suddenly wondering if she was mentally deficient. First she nearly married a guy who was already married. And now, little more than a day after she found out she’d nearly become an unwitting bigamist, she was ogling her best friend’s brother’s ass.

Unsettled, she went back inside, but instantly felt at a loss for what to do. She was normally hawking wedding gowns, veils and tiaras, everything to make a bride feel like a princess on her special day. Now the idea of even stepping foot into her store made her stomach turn. She knew she’d have to find a way to get past that. She had too much invested in the shop, and she couldn’t leave Katrina in the lurch for too long.

Her heart stuttered when she realized her own fairy-tale gown still hung in the back of the shop. After weeks of admiring it every day, she knew she never wanted to see it again. She grabbed her phone and called Katrina.

“Hey, sweetie,” Katrina answered. “How are you doing?”

It was a miracle Linnea had remembered to even call Katrina the day before to let her know she was going out of town for a few days. In fact, she’d been an hour out of Dallas before it dawned on her.

“I’m out of bed, which is more than I thought I’d accomplish today. How are things going there?”

“Fine. Don’t worry about the shop, okay?”

“Listen, I need you to do something for me.”

“Name it.”

“Sell my dress.”

“What?”

“My dress. I don’t want it to be there when I get back. Mark it at a price that moves it fast.”

Katrina hesitated before responding, “Are you sure? You love that dress.”

“I loved Michael, too, and look what that got me.” She realized how sharp her response had been as soon as it left her mouth. “I’m sorry. It’s just that it’s a reminder of what a fool I am.”

“You’re not a fool. I was standing on the outside and didn’t see any red flags, either.”

Linnea knew that should make her feel better, but it didn’t. “Has he called there looking for me?”

“A few times, but don’t worry about that. I took care of it.”

Something about the tone of Katrina’s voice sounded as though more was going on. “What do you mean, you took care of it?”

“Well, he came by, demanding to know where you were. I may have told him to leave, and if he came back I was going to call the cops and report him for stalking.”

Linnea’s mouth dropped open. “You didn’t?”

“I did, and I’d do it again. I might be small, but I will mess up anyone who hurts my friends.”

Despite everything, Linnea smiled. “Have I told you lately that you’re awesome?”

“No, and you should do that more often.”

“You’re right. I’ll make a note of that.”

Katrina laughed, and it lifted Linnea’s spirits some. They plummeted, however, when after she ended the call, she pulled up all the pre-wedding photos stored in her phone and started deleting them. With each one, it felt more and more as though the past six months of her life had been a waste. Despite what she’d told Katrina, she paused on the main photo of her gorgeous wedding gown. Yes, it was just a dress, but it had embodied her happiness, all her hopes and dreams for the future. Michael had robbed her of all that with his lies.

She hesitated with her finger over the last photo of the dress. As soon as she hit the Delete button, everything she’d planned for with such excitement would be well and truly gone. Fresh tears overflowed and ran down her cheeks as she hit the button.

Chapter Three

Owen was still in a foul mood when he reached the house. He was covered in mud literally from head to toe, thanks to a calf that had given him the slip. And because Linnea was visiting, he was going to have to wear the mud all the way through the house, probably dropping globs from the back door to the bathroom.

He took his boots off outside the back door and stepped into the house. As he passed from the mudroom into the kitchen, he nearly collided with Linnea. He reached out on instinct but managed to catch himself before he actually touched her.

Linnea took a step back and eyed him. “What on earth?”

“Another glamorous day in the life of a rancher.” As if to punctuate his words, a blob of mud dropped off his arm onto the floor.

She motioned him back into the appropriately named mudroom. “Take off those clothes, and I’ll put them in the wash.”

He lifted an eyebrow. “Trying to get me out of my clothes?”

She rolled her eyes, and that’s when he saw that her eyes were red as though she’d been crying again. He didn’t know what had happened, but he didn’t like seeing her so upset. He dated around, yeah, but he tried not to make any woman cry.

“Don’t be such a twit,” she said as she ushered him out of the kitchen. “Just dump those muddy things in there, and then I’ll turn my back as you head through the house.”

He turned around and retraced his steps. “Getting bossed around by a woman. It’s like Chloe never left.”

“I suppose if I wasn’t here, you’d just track mud through the house like an animal.”

He unzipped his jeans and shoved them down his legs. “No, I’d strip like I’m doing now and walk through the house stark naked.”

“Oh.”

He laughed a little at her startled reaction. When he was down to his boxers, he headed for the kitchen. “Hide your eyes.”

“The coast is clear.”

When he stepped into the kitchen, he smiled at how rigidly she stood with her back to him. “No peeking.”

“Don’t worry. I don’t want to burn my corneas.”

“I’m that hot, huh?”

“Oh, good grief. Will you just get out of here?”

This time, he chuckled where she could hear him before heading to the bathroom.

* * *

LINNEA DIDN’T DARE turn around until she heard the water in the shower start running. She relaxed and headed for the mudroom, wondering why Owen’s teasing had unnerved her so much. He’d always been a flirt, but he and Garrett had been more like brothers to her than anything else. They were actually the closest thing she’d ever had to brothers. But when she’d listened as he dropped his filthy clothes on the floor and walked into the kitchen behind her, she’d had to fight the urge to peek.

She shook her head, chalking it up to how mixed up she’d felt since Danielle Benson dropped her information bomb right in the middle of Linnea’s life.

When she picked up the dirty jeans and shirt, they felt as if they had ten pounds of mud caked onto them. What did he do, mud-wrestle a cow? She added the once white socks to the pile and was strangely grateful not to find a pair of underwear. At least she hadn’t been standing in the same room with her best friend’s buck-naked brother.

Unless he went commando.

Oh, good grief, why had that image popped into her head? She didn’t need to think about whether or not Owen Brody wore underwear every time she looked at him.

She took the clothes into the laundry room and washed some of the mud out in the utility sink, thinking the whole time that perhaps she needed to shove her head under the cold stream of water, too.

She waited until she heard the shower turn off before starting the washing machine, then returned to the kitchen. A few minutes later, Owen walked back into the kitchen, this time clean and fully clothed. His dark hair was still wet, and something about that look caused a funny little flutter inside her.

She turned her gaze back to the countertop in front of her, wishing she could speed time up until she felt normal again, when her heart didn’t feel as if it’d been stomped and when she wasn’t having strange thoughts about Owen, whom she’d known since he was fourteen. Granted, he was twice that now, had grown into a man’s body, but she still shouldn’t even notice things like that. Especially when she’d been about to marry another man she’d loved very much. Probably part of her did still love Michael even if she hated him, too. You weren’t supposed to be able to just turn love off and on like a light switch, right?

She mentally shook her head. This was probably just some sort of coping mechanism, her subconscious trying to find someone to make her feel good in the aftermath of being so horribly wronged by the man who had claimed he loved her.

“What are you doing?” Owen’s voice pulled her from her rambling self-diagnosis.

“Cooking dinner.”

“You don’t have to do that. The chili wasn’t that bad, was it?”

“No, it was fine. I just...needed something to do.”

Owen leaned a hip against the opposite end of the counter. “You okay?”

He sounded hesitant, as though he wasn’t used to asking people about their feelings. He was a guy. Of course he wasn’t making a habit of in-depth conversations about feelings.

“Fine. Just wanted something to occupy my mind.” She was saved from having to explain any further when Garrett walked in.

“It smells great in here. Hasn’t smelled this good since Chloe left.”

Linnea shifted her gaze to Owen and Chloe’s big brother. “I doubt that. I had a bowl of the chili. It was actually quite tasty.”

“Why, thank you,” Owen said, drawing her gaze back to him.

“You made the chili?”

He crossed his arms over his chest. “Don’t sound so surprised. I’m good at more than riding a horse.”

“That’s not what I hear from the girls you’ve dated,” Garrett said.

Owen slugged his brother in the arm. “Since when do you even talk to girls? You have longer conversations with the cattle.”

Linnea managed to smile at the same brotherly poking at each other that she’d witnessed from the moment she’d met Chloe’s family. It was a small comfort that some things didn’t change. But then, some things did.

She tore her gaze away, ostensibly to refocus on the food preparation. But it was really to blink new tears into submission. She was so sick of crying, of how it made her feel even worse. She wanted to be the person again who could laugh at Owen and Garrett’s antics, who could move through her day without feeling as though her emotions were riding a seesaw.

When she heard Chloe and Wyatt arrive, followed shortly thereafter by Chloe’s dad, she forcibly shoved away her sadness. There was time enough later for it to leak out when she was alone.

Chloe came over and gave her a one-armed hug. “You shouldn’t have done this,” she said so no one else could hear her.

“I needed to. A gal can only cry so much before she feels like her head is going to pop off.” Not that she didn’t expect more tears to visit her later that night, or in the days ahead, no matter that she wanted to be done with them.

“Okay, then. What can I do to help?”

“Start pouring drinks.”

A few minutes later, they all sat down to the dinner she’d prepared, lasagna with salads and garlic bread.

“This is great, Lin,” Chloe said.

“Yeah, way better than when Wyatt tried to cook for us when he was staying here,” Owen added.

“Oh, the frozen chicken episode,” Linnea said as she glanced across the table at Wyatt. “Heard all about that.”

Wyatt shook his head. “Y’all are never going to let me live that down, are you?”

“Nope.” Garrett’s single-word answer set everyone to laughing.

Everyone but Linnea, although she managed a smile so it wasn’t so obvious. She hadn’t been lying when she said she’d cooked the meal to have something to do, and in appreciation for the Brodys letting her crash in their home for a few days. But as she saw the loving looks and small touches that passed between Chloe and Wyatt, Linnea would swear her heart was bleeding. She doubted anyone else even noticed those little evidences of a young couple in love, but she’d been no different only a couple of days before. It hurt to think about how all those adoring gazes and thrilling touches were gone forever.

The weight in her chest and the lump in her throat grew throughout the rest of dinner, to the point where she thought she might have to excuse herself. But somehow she managed to make it all the way through dessert. When she started to gather the dishes, Wayne stopped her.

“No, dear. You’ve done enough for tonight.”

By the time Chloe and Wyatt left a few minutes later, Linnea felt as if a bear were sitting on her chest. She slipped out the front door while the guys cleaned up the kitchen. The night air was still warm as she stepped out under a wide, starry sky. But none of that offered her any comfort as she walked toward the fence near the barn.

She leaned her arms against the top rail and looked up at the sky in time to see a shooting star. Without even thinking, she made a wish for the pain inside her to go away, to maybe even someday be happy again.

A sob broke free and she laid her head atop her arms and cried yet again, as if her body could produce an endless supply of tears. Linnea didn’t know how long she cried, but the worst was over when she heard a door close. She wiped the last of her tears from her cheeks, glad for the darkness should whoever had stepped outside come close.

She stared out across the darkened field as the sound of footsteps approached. Somehow she knew it was Owen before he came to stand beside her, propping his own arms on the fence.

“You overdosed on Brodys, didn’t you?”

She laughed the merest bit at that. “How did you know?”

“Keen sense of observation. It’s a gift.”

She glanced his way and lifted an eyebrow. “Is there any talent you won’t claim?”

“Ballet. Never got the hang of it.”

She laughed for real this time, drawing a smile from Owen that lit an ember of warmth in her heart. “Thanks.”

“For what?”

“For trying to make me feel better.”

His gaze met hers. “How am I doing?”

She thought about it for a moment. “Okay.” She’d like to say that all the pain was gone, but she knew that wasn’t going away overnight, no matter how funny and nice Owen was to her. “I’m sorry if I’m a downer to be around now.”

“You don’t have anything to be sorry about. I just don’t like to see you sad. It’s so unlike you.”

“I guess heartache catches up to all of us at some point.”

“Yeah.”

Something about the way Owen stared out across the field, as if his thoughts were somewhere else, made her wonder what he was thinking about. Maybe he was remembering losing his mom when he was a child. She couldn’t imagine how horrible that had been, even though she knew the story well of how his mother had been killed by a hit-and-run driver.

Linnea experienced the most unexpected sense of connection with him in that moment. She took a deep breath and stared out into the expanse of darkness as well. Her eyes had adjusted to the dim light enough that she could now pick out a few cows in the distance. She took a slow, deep breath.

“I still can’t believe I almost married someone who is already married.” She saw Owen shift toward her out of the corner of her eye.

“How did you find out?”

“His wife showed up at the shop. Surprise!”

“God, Linnea, I’m sorry. Who the hell does that?”

“Obviously the guy I thought I was going to spend the rest of my life with. Says a lot about my judgment, doesn’t it?”

“Sounds to me more like he’s a bastard in need of a good ass kicking.”

“I thought about it, but that means I’d have to see his lying face again. Decided it wasn’t worth it.”

Owen was quiet for a while, but she could feel the anger coming off him. Oddly, it made her feel better.

“I know it sucks, but I’m glad you found out before you married him.”

“Me, too.” And she realized it was true. Though she was shredded inside, it would have been so much worse to find out the truth after she’d gone through with the wedding. What a nightmare that would have been.

They stood there, side by side, in silence for several minutes before Owen stepped away from the fence. “I’ll stop invading your space.”

“If anyone is invading anyone’s space, it’s me.”

“Let that go. You know you might as well be part of the family.”

“Thanks, again.”

He nodded. “No problem. And if you decide Michael needs a good beat-down to make you feel better, just let me know. That can be arranged.”

“He’s not worth your time, either.”

“I don’t know. Might make me feel better.”

She smiled at Owen. “I’m sure you can find something more fun to do.”

He made a sound that seemed to say he wasn’t sure about that, and though she truly didn’t want him to go beat up Michael, she appreciated the thought.

After he said good-night, she faced the field again. It took a few minutes to realize it, but her heart felt lighter than it had when Owen came outside. She glanced back at the house. Even though she wasn’t really hot on the male half of the species at the moment, she had to say the Brody men were the exceptions. Especially the youngest of them.

* * *

WHEN OWEN STEPPED INSIDE, he glanced back through the window to see that Linnea was still standing at the fence staring off into the night. He hoped she wasn’t crying again, because the ass she’d been engaged to wasn’t worth her tears.

“She okay?” Garrett asked as he walked into the living room from the kitchen.

Owen turned to face his brother. “Been crying.”

“I heard her last night.”

“Did Chloe tell you what happened?”

Garrett shook his head. “No. All I know is what you said, that the wedding had been called off.”

“The jerk was already married.”

Garrett’s forehead wrinkled. “Lots of people have been married before. Did he not tell her?”

“No, he wasn’t married before. He’s still married. His wife showed up at Lin’s shop and dropped the bomb.”

Garrett cursed as Owen had when he heard the reason Linnea’s wedding was off.

“Good thing he’s nowhere near me right now.” Owen might not be everyone’s first pick as the most reliable, steady guy around, but you didn’t mess with his family. And Linnea had become a part of the family the first time she spent a spring break at the ranch with Chloe. He’d defend her the same as he would his sister.

Even after he went to bed, he couldn’t calm down enough to sleep. He hated that Linnea had shed one tear over Michael, that he’d given her cause for tears. No matter how much he thought about it, he couldn’t figure out why someone would do what Michael had done. That was seriously messed up.

He fell asleep at some point after he heard Linnea come back inside, but when he woke up the next morning, the same pissed-off feeling was still clinging to him. He hated seeing injustices go unpunished, had ever since he was a little kid mourning the loss of his mother.

No, he didn’t want to think about that, especially not in the mood he was in. Instead, he shoved the quilt off his legs and got out of bed, dressed and headed out to the barn before the sun was fully up for the day. He wanted to use the time to work with the horse he’d bought to train.

After he’d worked with the big gray for about half an hour, the pent-up anger eased. He’d still likely punch Michael if he ever saw him, but working with the horse had soothed the savage beast a bit.

“Time to get to work,” his dad said as he and Garrett walked past the corral toward the barn.

Owen stopped and stared at their retreating backs, wondering what the hell his dad thought he was doing. Killing time? It was no use trying to explain that he was working, though. And a part of him understood why his dad and brother didn’t think his interest in training horses would last. After all, he hadn’t stuck with anything else over the years.

But this was different. All the rest he’d done because he was bored, wanting to try something different, unable to settle. But from the moment he’d realized he was more interested in what it took to make a good rodeo horse than actually riding in rodeo events, it was as if a fire had started within him. As if horse training might actually be his thing, his way to make his own mark on the family legacy. Garrett, as the oldest, was his father’s protégé on the ranch and seemed to be cut from the same cloth as their dad. Chloe’s domain had ventured into medicine even though she still pitched in plenty around the ranch when she could. Owen was ready to be known for something other than the family party boy. He just had to prove to his family that he was serious about it.

Until he could do that, he saddled up for another day tending to the cattle herd and checking fencing. As he rode out of the barn, he noticed Linnea sitting on the porch with a cup of coffee. She waved when she saw him, and he smiled as he tapped the brim of his hat with his index finger. He hadn’t heard her cry herself to sleep the night before, and that made him happy. An odd sense of pride filled him that maybe he’d had a small part to do with that. He just hoped that another day of hanging around the house alone didn’t give her too much time to fall back into that pit of sadness she’d been in. She needed to stay busy, and the perfect idea for how to help her stay out of her funk popped into his head. His smile grew as he followed his dad and brother out through the pasture for another day of work.

* * *

AS LINNEA HUNG UP on the last phone call she needed to make to completely cancel her wedding, she didn’t know whether to feel relieved or empty. She did know that she should go back to Dallas, return to her life and her business. She’d been hiding out at the Brodys’ ranch for the better part of a week, and she suspected they’d like to have their man cave back.

But the idea of getting in her car and leaving the nice little cocoon the ranch provided made her stomach tie in knots. What if despite Katrina’s threat, Michael showed up at the shop the moment Linnea got back? She wanted to be strong enough to believe that it wouldn’t bother her, but she doubted she would be. She’d bought into their romance a hundred percent, and she still sometimes thought she might wake up to find the awful truth wasn’t in fact the truth.

She needed to stop thinking that way and face it head-on, no matter how horrible it was going to be. She knew that, told herself that over and over, and yet here she sat in Chloe’s old room, not taking that first step.

A knock on the door drew her attention. “Yeah?”

Owen poked his head in. “Get dressed. We’re going to the rodeo.”

“I don’t think I’m up for that, but you all have a good time.”

“Nope, not letting you wiggle your way out of this one. After all, you’re my only hope.”

She cocked her head a little to the side. “Do I even want to ask?”

“See, there’s this girl named Tiffany in town who has been after me, and I need protection.”

Linnea actually snorted at that. “Protection from a woman? You are Owen Brody, right?”

“Exactly. I’m so irresistible that I need a protection detail.”

“Lord, I need to borrow some waders because it is getting deep in here.”

Owen shot her one of those crooked grins of his that she was sure had the women of Blue Falls tripping over themselves to be with him. For a moment, she understood why. If he weren’t Chloe’s brother and she didn’t think men sucked at the moment, she might even be tempted.

Which was another good reason not to go to the rodeo, and another reason she needed to get back to Dallas.

“Owen—”

“You’re going to leave me out to dry after I saved you from a rainstorm and got your tires fixed?”

“Pulling out all the stops, huh?”

“Did it work?”

“Why are you pushing this? Do you really need me to pretend I’m with you to stave off the hordes of women?”

He leaned back against the doorframe and hung his thumbs in his jean pockets. “Because you need to get out of this house and have a good time.”

“You do remember I just had the worst week of my life, right?”

“Which is why you need to go have some fun, because I’d lay good money down that Michael isn’t having fun right now.”

The evil gleam in Owen’s eyes nearly made her laugh. It was amazing how many times he’d given her a light moment throughout the week, something she would have thought impossible when she’d driven out of Dallas with her world shattered.

“Fine, I’ll go. But I’m not promising you won’t regret it later.”

“Fair enough, but you’ll be with me. You’re guaranteed to have a good time.”

“Oh, get out,” she said as she stood. “And take your enormous ego with you.”

His grin widened as he slipped out the door. She closed it behind him and shook her head. But she found herself smiling at the idea of spending the night out while Michael was miserable. At least she hoped he was.

She turned and headed for her bag to look for something appropriate to wear. She might not really be Owen Brody’s date, but damn if she wasn’t going to take advantage of his infectious thirst for a good time. And if she happened to appreciate how he looked in his jeans, well, nobody had to know but her. After all, she’d be back home soon, back to her real life that didn’t include rodeos or cowboys in tight jeans. She glanced toward the door where Owen had stood a few moments before and wondered if she would have been better off falling for someone like him than for the man she’d thought was perfect for her.

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