Cowboy in My Pocket (6 page)

He suddenly realized he was no longer grabbing her shoulders, but instead was gently massaging her tense muscles and thinking about kissing her once more before the wedding.

Just to make sure they had it right.

She wasn’t looking at him with frightened eyes, with eyes that questioned. No, that was definitely a look of anticipation. He’d bet the ranch on it.

The loud knock on the door reminded him he had bet the ranch.

With a muttered curse Tag let go of Lee’s shoulders, took a deep breath, turned, took another deep breath, and yanked open the door. A slender elderly woman about Lee’s height with short-cropped white hair and dangly turquoise and silver earrings poked her nose through the opening. She smiled broadly, stepped into the room, and stood up on her tiptoes to give him a resounding kiss on the cheek.

Then she pushed him aside.

Tag’s chin sagged to his chest. The game was over before he’d even gotten it started. He took another deep breath, then turned around to introduce his grandmother to Lee.

“Well, where are you keeping her? Coop said you were in here with your bride. Where is she?”

“She’s . . .” Where was she? “Lee?”

“I’ll be out in a minute, sweetheart. I’m just finishing my makeup.”

Damned if she wasn’t gonna go through with it! And he hadn’t even told her what all to do! This gal was a lot smarter than he’d thought.

“She’s just finishing her makeup,” he repeated, grinning broadly. “She’ll be out in a minute.”

It was almost five minutes, actually, but when Lee opened the bathroom door, Tag almost choked. She’d been beautiful before, but now, wrapped in his father’s old faded blue terry-cloth robe with her hair falling loosely around her shoulders and the slightest hint of makeup adding drama and depth to her emerald eyes, she was gorgeous.

She smiled sweetly at his grandmother, holding out her hand in greeting.

Gramma Lenore bypassed the handshake and grabbed both Lee’s hands in hers. She held her back for a good, long look. “Why, you’re definitely not Betsy Mae. You’re a lot prettier than that little twit. I’m Lenore Martin, Tag’s gramma, and I must admit when that boy told me he’d found the girl he was going to marry, I was scared to death he meant that Twigg girl. But just look at you! I’m so glad I got here in time.”

She wrapped her arms around Lee, enveloping her in a huge, welcoming hug. Absolutely speechless, Lee hugged her back, but she gazed over Lenore’s shoulder at Tag with a look of total confusion. Was this the same woman Coop said was dying?

“Taggart, you led me to believe you were planning to marry Betsy Mae, and I was coming out here to talk you out of it. I don’t want grandbabies that badly!”

“Gramma Lenore, you know Betsy Mae and I have been buddies too long to ever think of marriage,” Tag said, looking down at Lee. “This is the woman I’m going to marry. This is Lee Stetson. I met her at the rodeo down in Durango. She’s a friend of Betsy Mae’s. From rodeo’n.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you.” Lee smiled at his grandmother. Suddenly, inexplicably, Tag felt very proud of the woman standing next to him.

He put his arm around Lee’s waist and drew her close against his side. She fit perfectly, just under his arm, gazing up at him with the perfect look of adoration a woman should feel for her man. For the first time in days he began to relax.

He felt her hand slip around his waist, just under his jacket, felt the heat of her fingers tucked against the waistband of his slacks. She gave him a light, familiar squeeze.

He squeezed her back. Maybe this dumb idea of Coop’s was going to work after all.

Chapter 3

“NOW TAG, you need to let this little gal get ready. Go, shoo. Your wedding’s in less than thirty minutes.”

Lee practically giggled, watching Tag’s grandmother grab him by the arm and run him out of her room, but suddenly the door was closed and she was alone with Gramma Lenore.

“So, where’s your gown? Don’t you think you oughta put it on?”

“Well, I . . .” How did she explain there wasn’t a gown? How could she possibly go through with this wedding? But Tag had looked so desperate when his grandmother drove into the yard, Lee hadn’t even considered letting him down. “My luggage was stolen,” she said, grasping at the first plausible thought that entered her mind. “Tag suggested I look for something of his mother’s.” She gestured vaguely in the direction of the closet door, then before Lenore could stop her, opened it and grabbed the first thing she found.

“How about this? I think it’ll fit.” The pale blue suit was thirty years old if it was a day, but the classic style was fashionable enough that it might actually look okay on her. It wasn’t the wedding dress she’d always dreamed of, but then this wasn’t the wedding she’d wanted, either.

Lee knew she’d dreamed of a church bursting with music and flowers, herself dressed in satin and lace with a flowing train. She’d wanted attendants and flower girls . . . the magic that little girls imagine when they romantically arrange Barbie and Ken on the living room carpet, then get in trouble for picking Mom’s miniature roses for Barbie’s bouquet.

Lee smiled, knowing she’d just stumbled over one tiny part of her past. She had been that little girl, and her mother had been quite angry at first, until she’d recognized the seriousness of her daughter’s make-believe.

Then she’d joined her daughter in play, the two of them totally involved in the elaborate fantasy. Lee opened her mind to remember more, to picture her mother’s face, her name, but her head immediately started to pound. The last thing she needed today, her wedding day, was a headache.

Lenore’s disgusted snort snapped her back to reality. “You’ve got to be kidding,” she said. She lifted one pale sleeve of the blue suit and spun around with her hands on her hips.

“You’re not going to wear that ugly thing, not on your wedding day! Why, that suit’s been out of style for thirty years. I didn’t like it when Maggie bought it in the first place. Too dowdy.” She opened the closet door and shoved hangers aside, burying herself deeper and deeper among the racks of clothes until she finally disappeared at the far end of the huge closet.

“Aha! I knew it was in here.”

Lee peered into the shadows, then jumped aside so the older woman wouldn’t knock her down. Hadn’t Coop mumbled something about Lenore dying? If that was true, she was the healthiest dying person Lee’d ever seen. Lenore backed out of the closet, dragging a large quilted garment bag behind her.

“Maggie wouldn’t wear this, said it was ugly, but I think it would be perfect on you.” Lenore gestured in a no-nonsense manner for Lee to help her, and the two of them carefully stretched the bag out on top of the bed. Then she turned around, and with her hands firmly planted on her hips, glared at Lee.

“Lee,” she said, thrusting her chin out in a belligerent manner, “I made a bad marriage to the wrong man and I’ve regretted it ever since. My son Jim did the same thing when he married Tag’s mother, and his unhappiness is what drove him to drink. Seeing you and Tag together, feeling the love you two share . . . well, it just does something wonderful to me . . .” She pressed both hands over her heart. “ . . . right here. This was my wedding gown, Lee. I’d be thrilled to have you wear it.”

Lee wondered if she’d been an actress in her previous life. She had to be, or she’d have run screaming from the room. Gramma Lenore felt the love Lee and Tag shared? That was a stretch.

How could she possibly go through with this farce?

It’s too late to back out now.
But was it, really? All she had to do was walk out there and tell Tag she couldn’t do it, couldn’t marry a man she didn’t know. She’d have to tell him the truth, that she couldn’t remember agreeing to any marriage.

Yeah, like he’s really gonna believe that.
Lee rubbed her temples, hoping to massage away the dull ache building in her skull, and tried to pay attention to Gramma Lenore as the older woman carefully opened the garment bag.

All Lee could think of was Tag. She’d been lying to him since she’d arrived at the Double Eagle, letting him think she knew what was going on. If she tried to back out now, he could probably sue her for something.

Then where would she be? For all Lee knew, she was homeless, with a past that, for all intents and purposes, began on a rain-swept road somewhere in Colorado.

A past that possibly included something terrible, if Betsy Mae had been able to talk her into participating in this mess.

Lee pulled the old bathrobe tightly around her and concentrated on Tag’s grandmother. The grandmother who, according to Coop, might not have too much longer to live. Not only would Lee be breaking a promise, she’d disappoint Lenore in her final days. Lee felt a quick sting of tears. She hardly knew Tag’s grandmother but she seemed like a wonderful, loving person. So full of life . . . for now. Lee swallowed the lump in her throat.

Gramma Lenore slowly tugged the stubborn zipper down on the garment bag, allowing the mass of ivory satin to escape. She shook out the wrinkles and held the gown up for Lee’s perusal.

It took her breath. The design was right out of her dreams, the fitted bodice with an intricately beaded yoke, the sheer lacy sleeves with pearl buttons at the cuffs, and a billowing satin skirt. Reverently she took the gown from Lenore’s shaking fingers, held it a moment in front of herself, then brushed the ivory satin against her cheek. Cool, smelling faintly of lavender, it had been perfectly preserved in its sealed bag. It was the gown of her fantasies, right down to the tiny pearl buttons at the low scooped back and the yards of ivory chiffon gathered into a short train.

It was even prettier than Barbie’s gown.

Such were little girls’ dreams made of. Lee held the gown against herself and looked at her reflection in the mirror on the closet door. Speechless, she turned to catch Gramma Lenore’s reaction. There were tears in the older woman’s eyes.

Swallowing nervously, Lee stepped out of the ratty blue robe and slipped the dress over her head. She carefully buttoned the row of pearls at each wrist. Lenore silently helped her with the tiny buttons down the back, then hooked the train at Lee’s waist and fluffed it out until it trailed about three feet behind her. There was a pair of ivory satin shoes in the bottom of the garment bag. Lee tried to slip them on, but they were too tight. Regretfully, she set them aside.

She turned and almost gasped aloud at her reflection. She’d never looked lovelier, she knew that. The gown was a bit snug, but it accentuated her narrow waist and full hips, the ivory satin a perfect counterpoint to her fair skin and the dark auburn hair waving softly across her shoulders.

“When Tag sees me in this . . .” She looked up and caught Gramma Lenore’s tearful reflection.

“He’ll know he asked the prettiest girl around to be his wife.” Lenore stepped closer and rested her hands on Lee’s shoulders. “I just know you and Tag are meant to be together. I feel it.”

Lee closed her eyes against the truth. She couldn’t hurt Lenore, not when it meant so much to her to see her grandson married.

“YOU SURE Buck knows all the words?” Tag glanced out his office window at an exact duplicate of Coop, a solitary figure dressed in black jeans, black coat and wrinkled white shirt, leaning against the porch railing while the rain fell steadily just beyond.

Other than the fact the duplicate was taking regular sips from a small silver flask, every move, every mannerism, was Coop’s. The bandy legs and bushy brows, the thinning gray hair slicked to one side, even the slow, careful speech.

“He’ll do fine,” Coop said, but Tag noticed his foreman’s fingers were crossed. “My baby brother always comes through for me. He looks up to me. I’m older.”

Tag laughed. “Yeah, by three minutes. How your poor mama stood raising two of you is beyond me.”

“I was always good to my mama.” Coop glared at Tag. “Don’t you forget it.”

“Well, let’s just hope Buck manages to perform this ceremony before he passes out. Did you remember to water down the booze in that flask?”

“That I did. Don’t you worry about Buck. He’s played the preacher in lots of community theater. He knows his lines.” Coop stared disdainfully at Tag. Tag grinned back. He’d teased Coop about his identical twin for years, knowing Buck was Coop’s touchiest subject. The fact that Buck didn’t like horses and probably couldn’t tell a cow from a steer had brought more shame down on the old cowboy than had his brother’s drinking.

It was so much easier to tease Coop than to think about what was going to happen in less than half an hour. He’d be standing next to a woman he didn’t know, promising to love, honor and cherish a complete stranger in a ceremony that was nothing more than an act.

He’d never considered himself much of an actor.

But Betsy Mae said Lee had done some theater, too. She was good, he had to give her that. Why, Lee’d slipped into her role so quickly when his grandmother showed up, she’d even caught him off guard. He wondered what would make an obviously intelligent woman agree to such a thing. Especially one as beautiful as Lee Stetson. He still hadn’t had a chance to discuss the details with her. As far as she knew, the reason for the marriage was merely to get his grandmother off his back.

Using her to help him get the ranch sounded so deceitful. Tag figured it was just as well Lee didn’t know the full scope of his plan.

According to what Betsy Mae told Will, Lee was one barrel racer tired of all her friends trying to set her up with “the perfect guy.” Maybe she figured a temporary but make-believe marriage of convenience would give her a little peace.

Tag understood that. Still, he wondered if that was her only reason for going through with this sham. That or the money. She was certainly costing him plenty.

Betsy Mae had insisted on half again what Tag had offered her. She’d pointed out, in the message she left with Will, that her friend was, after all, a stranger to Tag. A stranger giving up her own free time, doing Tag a very large favor.

So far, Tag had to admit, Lee was worth it. She was smart and beautiful, obviously well educated from her manner of speech, and probably the sexiest thing to ever set foot on the Double Eagle.

Which could, under the circumstances, create its own set of problems.

It wasn’t going to be easy, pretending to marry a gorgeous thing like Lee, then keeping his hands to himself. But if that kiss they’d shared this morning was any indication of the attraction that sizzled between the two of them, he’d be a damned fool to take the chance of kissing her again.

She could just stay right there in his parents’ old room, right where she belonged. He’d stay in his.

Tag glanced at his watch and realized the minutes were quickly ticking away. It was almost eleven. Now that Gramma Lenore had met Lee, there’d be no backing out.

He was committed.
Oh what a tangled web we weave . . . oh Lord, I can’t do this.

He took a deep breath and swallowed, then another, but a huge fist squeezed his lungs, pressed down on his heart. He couldn’t do this, couldn’t go through with it, couldn’t . . .
uno, dos, tres, quatro . . .

Coop’s quiet voice interrupted Tag’s escalating panic. “It’ll be okay, boy. I hope you know how much I appreciate what you’re doin’.” The old man slowly took his hat off and held it in both hands in front of him. Tag took one more deep breath. Then he noticed Coop’s fingers were trembling.

It wasn’t often Coop removed his hat.

Tag had never seen the old man tremble. In fact, until now he’d never really thought of Coop as old. At least not old in the sense of aging. Coop just was. Tag couldn’t stop staring at those gnarled, trembling hands.

“Since your mama and daddy died, I guess I al’ays felt like you were my responsibility. I know what I’m askin’ you ta do is wrong, I know it goes against everythin’ you believe. You’ve always been truthful to a fault, and I . . . well, I truly appreciate the chance you’re takin’ for me. For the ranch. I truly do.”

“It’s okay.” Tag exhaled one big calming breath and pushed himself back from the window. He grabbed Buck’s bottle of Jack Daniel’s and poured a shot for each of them, then handed one to Coop. “To save the ranch, Coop. Here’s to the Double Eagle. No bird and bunny foundation is going to destroy what my grandfather and my father . . . and you and I, have worked so hard to build.”

He downed the whiskey in one quick swallow, and closed his eyes against the burn. He thought of the woman in the other room and wondered how he’d ever allowed himself to be talked into this mess.

“It’s time, Coop. Go fetch Lee and Gramma.”

LEE TURNED, dipped, pirouetted, then stopped, caught once again by her reflection. She pictured Tag, the look on his face when she stepped into the front room, and her resolve wavered.

She heard a soft knock on the door, and spun around to answer it, fully expecting Tag, half afraid of his reaction. Coop waited in the hall, but his reaction was more than satisfactory.

“Ahhh,” he sighed, his eyes suddenly brimming with tears. “You found Lenore’s dress. She was a beautiful bride, you know, but you look almost as lovely, Miss Lee. Just lovely.”

“Did you really think I was beautiful, Coop?”

Lenore stepped out from behind the door, and for the briefest of moments Lee thought she could hear the sizzle in the room.
But they’re both so old . . .

“More lovely than any woman I ever saw, and don’t you forget it.” Coop stripped his hat from his head and clutched it in front of him, obviously forgetting Lee was even there. “I never told you, Lenore, but I thought you were beautiful the first time I saw you when you were seventeen, and you’ve only grown lovelier. Many’s the time I wanted to . . .”