Shotgun Vows (12 page)

C
lutching her bouquet of baby's breath, carnations and marigolds, Mattie stood in the great room and looked through the French doors to the courtyard that was filling with guests. Everyone was waiting until stragglers arrived for the one o'clock wedding and were seated. Then Brody and Jillian's ceremony would start. She looked at the cloudless blue sky in the distance and was grateful that it was a beautiful day for a wedding. And that her parents wouldn't witness her wedding, what would not be her happiest day.

They had practically just returned to Australia from Reed and Mallory's nuptials. Brody and Jillian planned to visit when they could after the baby was born. Although a little sad, Mattie was relieved too. Her mother would see through her like no one else could.

That was one less thing to worry about.

Three days earlier, Mattie hadn't been prepared for the level of terror that awaited her in this spot. So many kinds of terror, too. Like high heels. She glanced down at the hunter-green satin toes of her shoes that matched her velvet bridesmaid's dress. She was used to jeans and boots. What if she tripped walking between the rows of chairs where the guests sat? What if the crown of flowers encircling her head fell off while the ceremony was going on? What if she had a
coughing attack? Or worse, a sneeze, and her nose started to run? What if she embarrassed her brother on the most important day of his life?

And that was just for starters. Then came the part when it would be the biggest day of
her
life.

Which brought her down her long list of terrors to Dawson Prescott. Or, more specifically, to marrying him. She was almost grateful to the terror that pumped adrenaline through her, because she'd hardly slept in three days. At least the panic kept her eyes open.

She had the strongest urge to run far and fast, but two things stopped her. No way would she let Brody and Jillian down and spoil their special day. Although she supposed she could go through their ceremony and then run like hell. But that wouldn't work because no way would she let her parents down, either. As Dawson would say, that was “unacceptable.”

“How are you doing?”

Dawson. Without turning around, Mattie knew it was him. She knew his calm, steady voice, so deep that it raised tingles on her skin from head to toe. He stood behind her, so close that she could smell the intoxicating scent of his aftershave, hear his even breathing, feel the warmth from his body. Part of her wanted to savor it, wrap herself in it because she was cold from the inside out. Part of her wanted to tell him to back off because he was the reason she was cold.

But she didn't say anything. Later he would get what he deserved.

She turned around and was unprepared for the spectacular view of him in a traditional black tuxedo, white, pleated dress shirt with black studs marching down his chest, and bow tie, perfectly knotted at his neck. His sun-streaked hair was neatly combed. He
was so handsome that he took her breath away. Not only that, but for a few moments she completely forgot to be mad at him.

There was a gleam in his eyes as he looked her over, from the top of her head, down the length of her dress, to the tips of her shoes peeking out from beneath her hem. His gaze met hers and there was an intensity in it that sent excitement skimming through her.

“You look beautiful,” he said, his voice a shade huskier than just a moment before.

“So do you,” she blurted out.

“Thanks.” He grinned, and her heart started tap dancing.

“Don't let it go to your head,” she grumbled, reminding herself that she was not happy with him. “I'm sure it's the clothes.”

“You're still mad.” It wasn't a question.

She shrugged. “Even if I wasn't, I still think it's the clothes.”

“Is Jillian ready?” he asked, apparently deciding to retreat.

Mattie nodded. “Amy's with her.” At his blank look, she said, “Amy Fairaday, Jillian's sister. She's the maid of honor and seems to be doing a fine job of keeping the bride calm.”

“That's good,” he said.

“Yup. Jill is as cool as a cucumber.” She looked at him and realized he looked pretty cool, too, in view of what they faced. Then she wondered about her brother. “What about Brody?”

“Reed is with him, since he's the best man. I picked him and Mallory up at the airport this morning and brought them here, to the ranch. Since I had to be here anyway.”

She ignored his casual reference to their impending nuptials. She didn't want to think about it until it was absolutely necessary. “Did they have a good trip?” She avoided using the word
honeymoon.
It would evoke too many erotic images that she couldn't deal with at the moment. She was already in hot water herself for putting the “wedding night” before the wedding.

“They said their honeymoon couldn't have been more perfect.”

So much for avoiding the word. Leave it to Dawson. She was about to ask if he'd said anything to her brother and his sister about their surprise, when there was a commotion behind them. Jillian moved through the great room, decked out in her wedding finery and looking more beautiful than Mattie had ever seen her. She'd opted for a simple, floor-length, cream-colored dress with loose lines that minimized the appearance of her pregnancy. Her veil was anchored by a halo wreath of flowers in her straight, shoulder-length blond hair. The look was uncomplicated, yet delicately feminine.

Her sister was beside her. Amy was a little taller than Jillian, with the same coloring, blond and beautiful. “Brody has taken his place in the courtyard beside the justice of the peace. I think we're ready to start, sis,” she said. She looked at the assembled group like a general surveying his troops. “Everyone know what to do? Mattie and Dawson go first.”

Mattie nodded, even as her heart pounded so hard she thought it might pop from her chest. During rehearsal the night before, it had been decided that ushers and bridesmaids would walk together down the aisle.

Dawson cleared his throat. “Break a leg, kid.”

“Oh, Lord, I hope not,” she cried.

“It's just an expression. It means ‘Good luck.'”

“I knew that,” she said.

He held out his arm, and Mattie placed her shaking hand in the bend of his elbow. When he reached out and covered her cold fingers with his warm palm, she found the gesture surprisingly comforting. Mattie would have denied it from one end of the huge state of Texas to the other, but she was terribly grateful for Dawson's presence. She gripped her bouquet in her other hand and nodded that she was ready.

“Let's go,” he said, opening the French doors.

He signaled to the quartet of musicians in the far corner of the courtyard. Instantly they stopped the chamber music they'd been playing, adjusted the sheet music on their stands, and started the traditional wedding march. The guests swiveled in their chairs to watch the procession, all of them smiling indulgently.

As she walked by, Mattie saw Dawson's sister, Mallory, and didn't miss the surprised look on her face. At first she wondered if her bra strap were showing, or if there were a spot on her dress. She stumbled slightly and felt Dawson's arm tense as he slowed to let her regain her balance.

Dawson bent and whispered in her ear. “Mallory hasn't seen you since the transformation.”

She nodded, grateful for his support, yet at the same time angry that she was grateful to him for anything. She looked at him, trying to read the expression in his hazel eyes. Was he thinking about the fact that a little while from now, the two of them would be taking this same walk to become man and wife?

Before she could give that too much thought, they
reached the flower-covered arch where her two brothers stood beside the justice of the peace dressed in a black robe. She released Dawson's arm and walked to the left, while he took his place beside the groom and best man on the right. She turned and watched the rest of the bridal procession.

She quickly glanced at Jillian, then swung her gaze to see the look on Brody's face. Her heart caught at the look of admiration, awe, wonder, and most of all love, that was in his eyes. Then a feeling of sadness enveloped her. How she'd always hoped that the man she married would look at her like that.

But it wasn't to be.

When the bridal couple were together in front of the arbor, arm in arm, the ceremony began. Different friends and relatives that Jillian and Brody had chosen ahead of time read inspirational pieces about devotion, love, soul mates, and happily-ever-after. Each one was like a knife through Mattie's heart.

Finally, the bride and groom faced each other and joined hands. They each made promises that they'd written themselves. Then the justice of the peace had them repeat the traditional vows to love, honor and cherish. Finally, he beamed at Brody and said, “You may kiss your bride.”

“With pleasure,” Brody said. He molded Jillian against him with one arm, then cupped her cheek with his hand and lowered his mouth to hers. The kiss seemed to go on and on, until hoots and catcalls from the guests forced the laughing couple to separate.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” the judge said, “may I present to you Mr. and Mrs. Brody Fortune.”

Applause filled the courtyard. Sadness and guilt filled Mattie's heart. She was glad her brother and Jil
lian had finally found each other. At the same time, she was so envious of their happiness that she could hardly stand it. It was such a stark contrast to the punishment she faced of marrying a man who didn't love her.

Jillian and Brody walked back among their guests. Amy took Reed's arm and moved away from the arbor. Then Dawson was beside her, and she felt the rush of hummingbird wings inside her that she was beginning to associate with his closeness. As they entered the house, she heard the judge, still standing in front of the arbor, ask for everyone's attention. He asked the guests to stay in their seats; he had a surprise announcement from the family. When he finished, voices rose to an excited buzz.

Here it comes,
she thought.
My turn.
With every ounce of willpower in her body, she held back the tears that burned her eyes.

 

Dawson stood beside the justice of the peace, waiting for Mattie to open the French doors and walk down the aisle to join him. Griff had agreed to be his best man, mostly, Dawson was sure, to make certain they went through with the wedding.

Scanning the gathered guests, he spotted Mallory. After he'd brought her to the ranch from the airport, he'd confided to her that he was getting married. He'd braced himself for her attempt to talk him out of making the biggest mistake of his life. Surprisingly, she'd hugged him and said she wasn't shocked in the least. With all the sparks he and Mattie had set off the first time they'd laid eyes on each other, it had been a good thing it wasn't raining. Everyone at that rodeo would have been electrocuted by their love at first sight.

Sparks? Love at first sight?

Dawson didn't believe in it. But if romantic notions kept his sister happy, far be it from him to set her straight. Suddenly he felt Griff stiffen, and he looked up in time to see Willa Simms come through the French doors.

“I didn't know Mattie asked Willa to stand up with her,” Griff whispered to him.

Dawson met his gaze. “Probably because Mattie is giving you the silent treatment.”

“True enough.” He nodded grimly. “Did you know about Willa?”

“Mattie's giving me the silent treatment too,” he said. “I knew they became friends while both of them were here on the ranch. But the renovations on her apartment in College Station were completed and recently she moved in. I didn't know Mattie had talked to her.”

“When did Willa move?”

Dawson shrugged. “About a week ago, I guess.”

“She's not wearing her glasses,” Griff observed.

Dawson studied her. In her ankle-length peach gown with matching jacket, she looked very pretty. Her auburn hair was pulled up at the crown, and curls spilled down, with wisps framing her face. She smiled shyly as she walked. When she reached the arbor, her gaze was on Griff, and there was a sparkle in her eyes. The judge indicated where she should stand, since she hadn't been there for the previous evening's rehearsal.

Then Dawson fixed his gaze on the French doors. Knowing how close she was to her family, he felt badly that this had moved too quickly for them to come. On the other hand, they were protected from details he would rather they not know. His heart
pounded as he waited expectantly for Mattie. He didn't know how she could top the beautiful picture she'd made in her bridesmaid's dress. She had bowled him over. But he found that the thought of seeing her walk gracefully toward him to become his wife made his palms sweat and his heart race.

When she appeared in the doorway, Dawson was stunned. Instead of the white dress and veil he'd expected, she was wearing her jeans, boots and denim shirt. The guests whispered to each other, replacing the astonished silence her appearance had caused. With chin held high, she moved down the aisle, a smile plastered on her face. The seductive sway of her hips kicked his heart into double time. His gaze lowered to the shapely curves of her thighs and calves. Not until that moment had he realized how much he'd missed the sight of her long, slender legs, which had been hidden by her floor-length dress.

When she reached him, they assumed their places before the judge, who removed the glasses from his nose and stared at her. “I thought you were going to change,” he said.

“Yes, sir. I did.”

“For your wedding,” he added.

“I know,” she answered, nodding.

“But you're wearing jeans.” The justice of the peace gazed from the toes of her scuffed boots to her jeans. They were so worn and soft that they were almost threadbare at the pressure points, Dawson noted, which also happened to be where she was curvy. The thought made his mouth go dry and his blood pressure jump a couple of notches.