The Bride Wore Starlight (7 page)

It was impossible to truly get the scope of the place, Gabe had told him, until you went on a fence-checking mission that required days in a pickup or on a four-wheeler, or got a view of the endlessly varied landscape from the seat of a plane or helicopter. Seventy-eight square miles of grassland, wooded foothills, mountainscapes, and beautiful creek bottoms were deserving of all the reverence they received.

Alec had neither ridden the fence lines nor seen Paradise from a plane, but he partially disagreed with his old army buddy. Just looking toward the Grand Teton massif sixty-five miles distant, his jaw dropped knowing the space in between had been privately owned for almost a hundred years by the family surrounding him. He couldn't fathom the freedom or the responsibility such ownership offered and required. His childhood on the streets of Minneapolis had been the exact opposite of free until he'd gone to live with an uncle and cousin in Wisconsin at age fourteen.

He'd learned the value of hard work on his uncle's small dairy farm and had gotten his only freedom when his cousin had introduced him to local rodeos. He'd been as shocked as anyone to learn a skinny kid from a big city had a natural talent for roping and riding bucking horses. The rest, as the cliché went, was history. He'd run away to the professional rodeo right after high school and loved it. From Wyoming to Texas he'd lived in wide-open spaces just by moving around.

Just until 9/11 had changed the world for everyone.

He stood now on an impressive multiple-level deck at the back of Rosecroft, the name of Paradise's main house, two glasses of wine in hand, and stared at Grand Teton. For all his travels, he'd never been to the national park. He'd always intended to take his favorite horse and spend several weeks exploring the countryside in each of several parks—he'd had a list. But the list was long lost—along with his favorite horse. He hadn't dared bring up the lost horse subject with Joely. From what he'd heard that was a taboo subject, but it was something they had in common.

“Hi there, cowboy.”

He turned at the sound of the sweetly pitched voice and came face-to-face with Skunk Girl. With a swift mental kick and a quick bite to the inside of his cheeks to stop a laugh, he managed a friendly smile.

“Hi back. It's Heidi, if I recall.”

“Ooh, very good!”

She was a stunner, he had to admit—the kind of platinum bombshell he'd practiced all those pickup lines on years ago. Taller than Joely by a solid four inches and leggy even in her red strapless dress that came, sort of modestly for her personality he thought, to her knees, she looked like she would still knock the socks off a pageant judge in a swimsuit competition.

“You came through the receiving line at the end—made it easier to remember.”

A slightly crestfallen shadow flit through her eyes, as if it bothered her he hadn't simply remembered her for being fabulous.

“Is one of those for me?” She leaned a hip provocatively against the deck rail and lifted the corner of her full, red-as-her-dress lips in a flirty tease as she eyed the wine glasses in his hands.

Alec kept a sardonic smile from his face with effort.

“I'm sorry, ma'am, these are spoken for. Another has caught my bartending affections, I'm afraid.”

“So sad.” She sighed. “Well, perhaps your drink card will have an opening a bit later in the evening? I'm a big fan of yours. It would be a treat to get to know you better.”

“I'm honored to have you say so, but I believe the evening is pretty full. If things change you'll be the first to know.”

A good pickup man also learned how to fib smoothly.

“Who's the lucky girl? Your wedding partner I presume?”

As if it was any of her business, he thought. On the other hand, nothing could really be hidden at a wedding reception, so no point in making a scene over her forwardness.

“No.” He leaned closer and whispered as if imparting a huge secret. “As a matter of fact I scored the matron of honor. I understand she's an old friend of yours.”

Heidi's features went through a complicated set of emotional contortions, and she ended up, somehow, with sympathy.

“Isn't it just so, so sad about Joely? The poor girl. She used to be so attractive.”

“You don't think she is any longer?” The hairs on the back of his neck stood up in defensive annoyance.

“Goodness no, I didn't mean it like that.” Heidi backpedaled with easy composure. “I just know she's had a difficult time coming out in public, and I can understand. She looks so different.”

“Oh?”

“She
was
cute as a bug's ear, let me tell you.” Heidi shook her head. “But I'm glad she's doing better. It's so good of you to try and make her feel comfortable. The perfect wedding date. I'd say she is a lucky girl.”

“Or I'm the lucky man. Heidi, it was nice to see you again. Enjoy the rest of the wedding.”

“And you be sure to come and find me if you have a free moment. I'd love to hear about your rodeo days, Mr. Morrissey.”

A sure-fire way to make certain he never shared that drink with her, he thought, as he faked a friendly wink and headed away from the scenery, mountain, and woman to find Joely.

She was seated not in her wheelchair but at one of the tables set in the spacious yard, close to the rented dance floor and DJ table. She watched him approach, mild amusement in her eyes.

“I see you had a chance to formally meet Miss Heidi,” she said, when he set the glass of Chardonnay in front of her. “I have to say, you two would make beautiful babies.”

He nearly knocked the glasses over as he stumbled into a chair. “Excuse me? What the hell?”

She laughed. “Okay, that was a test. If you had agreed with me, I was planning to slug you.”

“I don't think we know each other well enough for that.”

She shrugged. “True that. I think I would have enjoyed it, though.”

“Sorry I couldn't be more accommodating.”

Her smile warmed him. He liked seeing her relaxed and comfortable rather than defensive and reclusive.

“I'll get over it,” she said.

“Whose seat am I taking?” He looked around the table at four purses scattered on the denim-colored table cloth, and a few shawls on chair backs.

“Nobody who'll care. Mom, Grandma Sadie, Russ Wainwright.”

“Which purse is his?” Alec grinned.

She didn't acknowledge the ridiculous line with more than a long-suffering glance. “Everyone is off getting drinks. Thanks for the wine.”

“My pleasure.”

“Look.” She straightened in the chair. “I know you've been asked to act as my personal guardian angel and slave tonight, but I don't need you to babysit me. I'm just fine. You're free to go hang out with your friends.”

“First of all, I don't do what I don't want, so I'm not here under duress. Second, I can't help but wonder why
you
aren't off with your friends.”

“Somebody has to keep Mom and Grandma busy.”

“Look around,” he said. “Do you see any lack of people here for them to talk to?”

“I don't want to cramp anyone's style,” she said, switching from one excuse to another as smoothly as lawyer on redirect. He'd hoped she was over that.

“You need to stop with the excuses. If you don't like your siblings just say so, but quit hiding behind your injury.”

Her cheeks puffed outward as if they were filling with the angry the words he knew she was about to spew. He braced but didn't apologize. Let her keep getting angry. Anger was better than self-pity. This probably wasn't in his job description as a guardian angel, but so be it. When her face had finished flushing to a nice hue of pink, she could no longer contain her fury.

“How dare you? You play the funny, all-round Boy Scout, but you're no more honest than you're accusing me of being. I know who you are. Everyone does. And yet you mention nothing about your real life.”

“You know what used to be my life,” he said mildly. “I don't mention it because it's not relevant. I'll tell you anything you want to know about my real life now.”

“Why did you lie about being a cowboy?”

“I didn't. I work as a dispatcher at a trucking company.”

“That's crap. You don't just stop being the best at what you do.”

His curiosity was piqued. Did she not know his life story? The thought was shocking and slightly exhilarating.

“Sometimes you do. Do you know why I quit?”

“You lost your partner. I'm sorry. And if you wanted to quit, it's none of my business what went into the decision. Just like it's none of your business why I make the choices I do. You have no right to tell me what I should and shouldn't do.”

She
didn't
know. How bizarre and rare. He grinned at her.

“All right. We'll make a pact. For tonight, there'll be no talk about our pasts, whether that's yesterday or ten years ago or the days we were born. Clean slate and truce.” He stuck out his hand. “Deal?”

She eyed his proffered handshake and blew out a breath. Finally she slipped her cool, soft hand into his. “Deal.”

“So it follows that we only talk about the present or the future.”

“The future?” she asked.

“Like what happens when the DJ starts and I have no desire to come up against Heidi of the Skunk.”

She sputtered a little but didn't call him on the nickname that was more than a little unfair all these years after the episode that inspired it.

“I have five sisters who'll all be willing to run interference.”

“The trouble with that, you see, is that I told Heidi Bis
set
I was here with you.”

Joely dropped her head into her hands and shook it slowly back and forth.

S
HE MANAGED TO
hold Alec off for forty-five minutes. As she'd promised, each of her sisters danced with him, and he made every partner look good. And after every dance he returned to his seat beside her and cheerfully told her their dance was next. She couldn't deny how much she wished it could be. She'd once loved dancing. But watching the easy, graceful sway of bodies during slow songs, and the jumping up and down fist pumping that the upbeat tunes required, she knew beyond any doubt that her crushed calf, twisted knee, and crooked spine wouldn't handle the moves.

Her mother danced with Alec and even Grandma Sadie took her spin with him. Afterward, he returned exhilarated.

“Your grandmother is an amazing woman. I swear she's more flexible than I am.”

“I guarantee she's more flexible than I am,” Joely added.

“I think you can't make a statement like that unless you have empirical data to back it up.”

“Give it up, Morrissey,” she replied.

“How about you give it up with me, Morrissey? Or should I add Mister and be polite?” Heidi stood before them, her slinky red dress setting off her perfect, seemingly ageless body. Joely aged fifteen years in her own mind. “Could I interest you in a dance?” Heidi asked.

Alec stood and Joely stared at him. “Really?” she mouthed when he caught her eye.

“I'm sorry, Heidi,” he said. “But I just agreed to dance with Joely.”

He gave her no warning, just grabbed her hand, hauled her out of her chair, and wrapped his arm around her waist, automatically supporting her weak leg as she shifted into his embrace. Breathless, she looked into his eyes with no idea of what to do next.

“Ready?” he asked.

The shock on Heidi's face was enough to force Joely into an immediate bid for Oscar consideration.

“Of course!”

He led her to the dance floor casually, with the same unhurried steadiness he'd offered at the church. The level floor and easy pace made this trip even easier, and Joely had no time to fret over her shuffling limp. With his hip bracing hers at each step, she didn't feel like the awkward center of attention.

He found a relatively empty corner of the floor and took her fully into his arms. Michael Bublé sang out “Save the Last Dance for Me,” and she had just enough presence of mind to understand the irony. Her heart pounded with exertion and excitement, but try as she might to breathe deeply, her pulse refused to calm. The scent of his familiar aftershave, the firmness of his arms around her, and the brush of their torsos as he started to sway only heightened her rush of exhilaration.

“Okay,” he said. “This is above and beyond. Thank you for playing along; I owe you.”

“Maybe you planned this.” She managed to put a tease in her voice, breathe, and start concentrating on her leaden feet all at the same time.

“I wish I'd thought of it. It's kind of brilliant.”

She stumbled slightly over one of his feet, but he held her fast.

“I can't talk and concentrate on this at the same time,” she said. “I can barely handle smelling you and concentrating—”

She stopped, mortified. She hadn't said that. She couldn't have. She'd only had two glasses of wine. He started to laugh.

“Do I need to apologize? I didn't think I'd forgotten to shower.”

“No.” She wanted to melt into the floor—but then again, falling to the floor was actually her nightmare, so she made herself look directly into his eyes. In the early evening sunlight they were almost sea green, with flecks of golden brown in a starburst around the irises. “You smell good. Whatever you have on is highly distracting.”

Heaven help her, she was making it worse. She stepped on his foot again with her good leg.

“Hey.” He stopped them and held her still, letting other couples swing around them. “Thank you. Now don't fumble for words anymore—you don't need to. Let's start over and you try shifting your weight foot to foot. Get used to the new gait you have now.”

With all her heart she didn't want the dancing to be fun. She was right about herself, damn it. She couldn't do these things; she knew her own body. But she hadn't figured Alec Morrissey into the equation. He turned out to be a masterful teacher and more understanding than she had a right to expect.