A Maverick to [Re]Marry Page 14

  “To you and Derek, Amy.” Viv raised her champagne flute high. “Just a completely amazing job.”

  “Thank you.” Amy tapped her flute to Viv’s. “I mean, you’re the expert, so a high five from you is especially appreciated.” And then she gave credit where it was due. “We had a lot of help. And the worksheets and suggestions you gave us definitely got us off to a great start.”

  Derek, every cowgirl’s dream in dress jeans, fancy boots and a snow-white shirt, appeared out of the crowd and grabbed her hand. “Dance with me.”

  With a quick wave to Viv, she followed where he led her, to the windows that looked out on the Manor grounds. The wide square of open space there had been designated as the dance floor for the night.

  They two-stepped and they line danced and during the slow ones, they held each other close. Amy could dance with him all night long.

  But when the second slow song ended, she pulled away regretfully. “We should check on the games and make the rounds of the casino room.”

  “I’ll take the casino,” he said, and kissed her. Yes, it was breaking their no PDAs rule. So what? She kissed him back and didn’t give a damn who saw. It was a bachelor party, after all, and the whole point was to break a few rules.

  He headed for the casino and she wandered the other rooms, checking that the champagne station still had plenty of bubbly and the water table remained well stocked. She straightened the display at The Nearly Newlywed Game table.

  And she entered the bar area just in time to see Brenna O’Reilly Dalton jump up onto her husband, Travis’s, back. With a loud, “Wahoo!” Brenna wrapped her arms and legs around him. Amy laughed at the sight as Brenna tossed the bartender her phone so he could snap a picture of Travis running in a circle giving his wife a piggyback ride. It was one of the challenges in the Jack and Jill Scavenger Hunt. When the bartender returned her phone, Brenna passed it to Travis, who caught the shot as she kissed the bartender’s cheek—another scavenger hunt challenge met.

  Amy applauded, along with everyone nearby. Travis and Brenna were not only perfect together, they were both enthusiastic competitors. No wonder they’d stolen viewers’ hearts on The Great Roundup reality TV show last year.

  There was a tap on her shoulder. “Amy.”

  She turned to the bride-to-be, who looked absolutely gorgeous in a bright pink halter dress. “Eva! Love that dress. Having a good time?”

  “Best. Time. Ever. And I have someone I’ve been wanting you to meet.” Eva slipped her arm around the shoulders of a pretty dark-haired woman in a floral print maternity dress. “This is Mikayla Brown. She just arrived from Wyoming today and she’ll be living with us at the farm for as long as we can convince her to stay.”

  Mikayla smiled, but her big, dark eyes remained watchful and serious. “Hi.” She added kind of wearily, “Great party.”

  Eva’s smooth brow crinkled. “Maybe I shouldn’t have pushed you to come. Is it too much for you?”

  “Of course not.” Mikayla patted Eva’s hand where it rested on her shoulder. “I feel fine and it’s nice to get out and mix it up a little.”

  Dana Stockton, who’d arrived from Oregon two days ago, waved from down at the end of the bar where she sat with Bailey. “Eva! We need you!”

  “Coming!” Eva turned to Mikayla. “That’s Dana, Luke’s youngest sister. I’ll introduce you.”

  Mikayla put up a hand. “I’ll meet her later. Go ahead and see what’s up. I’m fine, really.”

  “You sure?”

  “Positive.”

  Amy said, “Stick with me, Mikayla, I’ll introduce you around—not that I know everyone, but I’m working on it.”

  “Terrific.” Mikayla made shooing motions at Eva. “Go.”

  Eva took off to find out what Dana wanted and Amy offered, “Let’s get you something cold to drink.”

  They each got a ginger ale and then wandered the party together. Amy kept an eye on the various events and refreshment tables, and made sure Mikayla met plenty of the locals, including Derek’s brothers, Eli and Jonah. Eli introduced them to a bunch of Dalton cousins. Zach, Garrett, Shawn, Booker and Cole Dalton, Viv’s fiancé, were the sons of Derek’s uncle Phil. They all had thick dark hair and killer blue eyes.

  Amy kidded, “You guys have my head spinning. There’s a Dalton everywhere I turn.”

  Booker said, “And there are more on the way. Our Uncle Neal Dalton is moving to town along with his boys Morgan, Holt and Boone.” He leaned close to Amy and stage-whispered, “Take my word on this, Amy. You gotta watch your back around Uncle Neal’s boys.”

  “Come on, Booker,” said Eli, frowning. “They’re not that bad.”

  Booker scoffed. “They’re bad enough,” he muttered. “But you’re right. I should shut up and go find another beer.”

  Amy took Mikayla’s arm. “Let’s see how it’s going in the casino.”

  The casino room, done up like a saloon in an old Western movie, was wall-to-wall with guests shooting craps, playing poker and rummy, baccarat and blackjack.

  Derek had gotten stuck filling in as croupier at the roulette table. He called out “Place your bets!” and then spun the wheel, which Amy had picked up for practically nothing on eBay. After he paid the winners, he glanced over and gave Amy a wink, causing her pulse to speed up and her heart to do the happy dance. All the Dalton boys were handsome, but Derek really was the best-looking of all of them. Everyone said so, and everyone was right.

  “Let me guess,” said Mikayla. “That’s your guy.”

  “Oh, yes, he is.” And then she remembered the agreement they’d made. “Correction.” She couldn’t help giggling. “We’re just friends.”

  “Oh, yeah. And if you think I believe that, I’ve got a uranium mine I can sell you.” The golden light from the wagon wheel chandelier overhead put tired shadows under Mikayla’s big dark eyes.

  Amy took her arm. “Come on. Let’s go someplace more comfortable where we can sit down for a while.”

  They went outside and found an unoccupied bench waiting for them under the star-filled Montana sky.

  Mikayla set her empty glass on the ground beside her and sat back with a little sigh. “It’s nice out here.”

  “Yeah. Just right.” The evening was warm, with a hint of a breeze. “So, you’re from Wyoming, Eva said?”

  “Cheyenne, specifically.” Mikayla stared off down the twisting path that led deeper into the resort grounds. “Luke and my cousin Brent are longtime friends. Before Luke came back here to Montana, he and Brent both had jobs on the same big spread not far from Cheyenne. As for me, the past few years, I’ve been working at a day care. My job ended several weeks ago and I...needed a change of scenery, I guess you could say. Brent called Luke. Luke said I should come stay at Sunshine Farm. So here I am, with the room next to yours, according to Eva. Till the baby’s born, anyway. Maybe longer. I really can’t say.”

  “Knowing Eva and Luke, they’ll be glad to have you for as long as you want to stay. They’re the best.”

  “Yes, they are.” Mikayla folded her hands on the mound of her belly.

  For a few minutes, they were quiet together, a companionable sort of silence. Amy could hear the sounds of the party from back inside the Manor, the band playing a ballad, people laughing and chatting.

  Then Mikayla said softly, “You might have guessed that I’m on my own with this.” Her dark head was tipped down and she stroked her stomach as though soothing the little one within. “The father...well, I kind of made a bad choice with him. Long story short, he cheated. I wanted more than a guy who couldn’t even be true to me. I wanted love. Real love. The kind that curls your toes and fills your heart and lasts till the day after the end of forever.”

  Amy thought of Derek, of their not-quite-baby, of how much he’d wanted to marry her, of the love and hope in his beautiful green eyes when he’d dropped to his knees and begged her to be his wife. Even though it all spiraled into heartbreak later, she’d been so lucky with him—was
so lucky with him.

  Whatever happened between them now, she would always know that Derek Dalton, the first love she’d never really gotten over, was a hero in the truest sense of the word.

  She said, “Good riddance on the cheater.”

  “Thank you,” Mikayla replied dryly. “I couldn’t agree more.”

  “And you won’t be on your own for long, believe me. Everybody will tell you that Rust Creek Falls is the place to come if you’re looking for the love of your life.”

  Mikayla let out a husky laugh. “Well, I was looking and it didn’t go well. Now it’s me and my baby and you know what? That’s just fine with me.”

  Amy glanced toward the Manor. As though her yearning heart had conjured him, Derek emerged. Every molecule in her body lit up at the sight of him. She waved. He saw her and came toward them.

  Mikayla said, “Here comes that ‘friend’ of yours. Go on, now. Dance and have fun.”

  Amy held out her hand. “Come with us.”

  But Mikayla shook her head. “Uh-uh. Go. Dance. And have a glass of bubbly for me.”

  * * *

  Amy did dance. And not only with Derek. She danced with Bella’s multimillionaire husband, Hudson Jones, and his equally rich brothers: Walker—who was married to Derek’s cousin, Lindsay—and Gideon and Jensen who were visiting from out of town. She danced with the Strickland boys, L.J., Trey, Benjamin and Billy, who lived in Thunder Canyon. She also danced with their brother Drew Strickland, an obstetrician. Rumor had it that Drew might soon be moving to Rust Creek Falls.

  She even danced with Collin Traub as his wife, Willa, danced with Derek. Collin was friendly and kind. He said what a great job she and Derek had done on the party and not so much as a word about what he knew of the past.

  Much later, after two in the morning when the party was slowly winding down, when her poor feet were aching from hours of dancing, Amy took off her high-heeled sandals and ran barefoot with Derek along the twisting paths on the Maverick Manor grounds.

  “Wait,” he said, his boots going still. “Listen.”

  She paused in midstep—and she heard it, too. Slow and sweet in the distance, back in the Manor, the band was playing, “Hey, Pretty Girl.”

  Derek reeled her in and pulled her close. “I believe this dance is mine.”

  She gazed up into his eyes. They gleamed in the darkness, endlessly deep. “Yes, this dance is yours, Derek. All yours.”

  And he whirled her around under the moon in a pool of starlight. It was pure magic. Her tired feet had never felt so light, as though she was floating right off the ground.

  * * *

  At four thirty in the morning, when the last guest finally left the party, Amy changed into the jeans, T-shirt and trusty high-tops she’d brought along to wear for the cleanup.

  She and Derek and Luke’s brothers stayed on to help the staff break everything down. Nate Crawford and his partners in the resort would be keeping all the props and decorations. Amy and Derek were happy to give the Manor every last poster, banner and baggie of wedding ring confetti. They had no use for any of it and the Manor had been beyond generous, letting them use the venue for nearly nothing. The owners planned to host a lot of parties in the future. Decorations and party props and a ready-to-assemble saloon-themed casino would be bound to come in handy.

  As the sun peeked over the crests of the mountains and lit up the morning sky, she followed Derek back to the Circle D. All night, she’d been looking forward to getting him alone. Every dance they’d shared had reminded her of how precious this time was—their time, together again at last. She couldn’t wait to unzip his jeans, pull off his fancy boots and unbutton that snowy white shirt.

  When they finally got to his place, it was eight in the morning. They’d both been awake since 5:00 a.m. the day before. She turned off the engine of her Audi and then just sat there in the driver’s seat, staring blankly out the windshield.

  The sun was fully above the mountains now, the sky so clear and pure and blue. About fifty yards away, a couple of horses had ambled up to the fence that ran along the dirt road leading off toward the main house. They shook their manes, snorting and whinnying and then wheeled and took off back the way they had come.

  Such a beautiful place—Rust Creek Falls, the mountains all around, the wide, rolling valley. She’d stayed away much too long. Being back felt so good. It felt like coming home.

  She heard the pickup door open and close and then boots crunching gravel.

  Derek leaned in her open window. “You’re dead on your feet.”

  A laugh bubbled up and she corrected him, “I’m dead on my butt is what I am.”

  He pulled open her door. “Come here, pretty girl.”

  She fell sideways out the door, still laughing. He caught her—and suddenly, her throat was tight, her vision blurred with tears. She wrapped her arms around his neck as he scooped her high against his chest. “Oh, Derek. We killed it, didn’t we? It was a great party.”

  “The best ever,” he answered solemnly. She tipped her head back enough to see his eyes under the brim of his hat. His brow furrowed. “You’re crying. What’d I do?”

  She snuggled her head under his chin, her hair catching on his beard scruff the way it always did. “This is happy crying,” she explained, causing him to mutter something about women and all the ways a man could never understand them. She pressed her hand against his shirt, right over his heart. “Honestly, I am happy. So very happy—and I waited all night to get this shirt off you.”

  His lips touched her hair. “Let’s go inside and you can get busy on that.”

  She reached out and pushed her door shut. He turned for the steps leading up to the porch.

  Inside, he carried her straight to the bedroom.

  When he set her down, she fell back across the bed, arms outstretched. “Gonna close my eyes, just for a minute...”

  “Yeah.” She heard the warm humor in his voice as he untied her shoes. “You do that, Miss Wainwright.”

  “I believe I will, thank you very much.” She let her heavy eyelids drift shut and thought about all the naughty things she would do to him. Sexy things. Delicious things.

  It was going to be so much fun...

  * * *

  When she woke, she was alone in the bed wearing only her lacy panties and bra from the night before. The nightstand clock said 4:00 p.m.

  “Derek?”

  No answer. And the house felt strangely silent.

  She saw the note sticking out from under the clock.

  Gone to round up some stray cattle. My mom called. She says we’re going to dinner at main house. Just casual. Be back for you by six at the latest.

  * * *

  Back when she and Derek were high school sweethearts, Amy had been to more than one Sunday dinner at Charles and Rita Dalton’s house. She remembered the rambling, two-story ranch house. In those days, Sunday dinners were crowded, every chair taken.

  But all of Derek’s brothers and sisters were married now and none of them had come to Sunday dinner this particular evening. It was just Derek, Amy, Rita and Charles.

  Derek’s parents seemed happy to see her. They asked about her life in Boulder and her work for Hurdly and Main. Charles seemed pretty interested in how she tracked financial fraudsters on the internet. Rita listened politely, but her eyes got that glassy look, the one most people ended up wearing when she tried to explain about stopping data breaches and the lengths some tech-savvy crooks would go to steal what didn’t belong to them.

  Rita plied her with roast beef, broccoli and cheesy potatoes and asked, “Have you been to the saddlery?”

  “Yes. Derek gave me a tour.”

  “Isn’t he talented?”

  “Mom,” Derek groaned. “Don’t.”

  Rita gave him her sweetest smile. “Well, I’m your mother. I’m allowed to be impressed with you.”

  “His work is beautiful,” Amy said, and meant it.

  “He’s an artist,” Rita de
clared with pride. “He gets commissions, did you know that? From people in Europe, from all over the world. And they pay a lot.”

  “Mom.” Derek pinned his mother with a flinty stare. “Stop. I gave Amy a tour of the shop and I told her all about it.”

  Charles chuckled and Rita ate a bite of tender beef.

  “So, Amy,” Rita said when she’d finished chewing and swallowing. “It’s wonderful to have you back in town, to hear that you’ve been spending time with Derek again. I always thought that the two of you—”

  “Mom,” Derek said for the third time, the single syllable freighted with warning.

  Rita widened her eyes, all innocence. “What I meant to say was, I hope we’re going to be seeing a lot of you.”

  “Well, I’ll be here until the wedding, that’s for sure.”

  “And after that?”

  Amy couldn’t stop her glance from sliding to Derek. For a moment, their gazes locked. She dared to think he wanted her to stay, that when they finally really talked about it after the wedding, they would be discussing how to blend their two lives into one. “I...ahem. I guess you never know what will happen, do you?”

  Rita arched an eyebrow. “You’re a cagey one, Amy Wainwright.”

  “Leave her alone, Mom,” Derek said.

  Rita sighed. “It’s a thankless job, being a mother. Your children grow up and they won’t tell you anything.”

  Charles reached over and put his hand on his wife’s. “Be patient, my love.”

  Rita leaned his way and kissed him. “All right, then.” She smoothed her napkin on her lap and picked up her fork again. “Don’t mind me, Amy. I’m just glad to have you here again at last.”

  * * *

  The next week just plain didn’t have enough hours in it. It felt like a whirlwind, with the wedding coming up and all the Armstrongs in town.