The Cowboy Imports a Bride(The Cowboys Of Chance Creek #3) (9 page)

By the end of the afternoon, Rob's back ached in ways he hadn't thought possible. He had always considered himself a strong man, and for all his tendencies to put pleasure before responsibility, he knew how to do a full day's work, but the repetitive process of removing foliage from the bottom of the plants – leaving just enough leaves to shade the ripening grapes from the full-on sun – turned out to be harder than he would have expected.

Raoul and the other men shared their lunches with him during their short break, and only afterwards did Rob realize he probably should have sought out Morgan and eaten with her.

Still, when he went to meet her in the parking lot at five o'clock, he felt the satisfaction of having worked with his hands and done a good job. Why didn't ranching ever feel like that?

Maybe it was time for a career change.

CHAPTER SEVEN

"I can't believe you worked in the vineyards," Morgan said again as they entered her apartment.

"Yeah, well get used to it," Rob drawled. He'd been evasive about his intentions in helping out the Mexican field workers. She had no idea if he was trying to impress her, or get even with her for leaving him stranded in her apartment the day after they'd gotten engaged. He'd certainly confused Duncan, who'd loitered outside for a half-hour waiting for him to get bored and come back for the rest of that tour before coming inside to complain to her about her bizarre boyfriend.

"What do you mean, get used to it?"

"I'm going back tomorrow. Raoul said they could use another pair of hands, and Duncan said he'd pay me the going rate."

"You realize the going rate is minimum wage." She dropped her keys on the counter and flipped through her mail.

"It's more than I'll get if I sit here on my ass. Hold on, phone's ringing." He pulled out his cell phone and checked the screen. "It's my mom – probably for you." He shoved it into her hands and disappeared into the bedroom before she could protest. Morgan clicked it on and held it to her ear.

"Hello?"

"Morgan, is that you? I'm so glad you answered, honey. I wanted to talk to you about colors."

"Colors?"

"We've got to start somewhere, don't you think? October eleventh isn't that far off. What's your favorite color, honey?"

"Um…I don't know."

"You don't know your own favorite color?" Lisa laughed. "Sounds like that son of mine has got you all turned around up there."

She was partially right. Between Rob's sudden appearance and their whirlwind decision to spend their lives together, and his bizarre behavior at the winery today, she was a bit addled. But what truly left her speechless was Lisa's attitude. They hadn't even met yet and she was acting like they were old friends. Almost like a…mother.

"I really like mint green. I don't know if that helps."

"That helps a whole lot," Lisa said. "Now, I've started a guest list. I'm at 212 at the present. Both Holt's family and mine have lived in this area over 100 years, so we know almost everyone in the county. I'm trying not to let it get out of control. You'll need to send me your list. Do you have an estimate?"

Morgan steadied her breath, but the question pierced her to the core. "Maybe…maybe you can give me some advice," she said finally. "I have a number of female friends in the area, but I don't expect them to spend the money to travel to Montana. Do I still invite them?"

"Of course – let them decide whether to make the trip or not. We've got extra rooms on the ranch, and I daresay your family does, too. We can put some of them up for the wedding. What about family?" Lisa's voice was kind and that made it all the worse.

"I hope my father will come. He's really the only family I have left."

"Of course he'll come. He'll have to walk you up the aisle, won't he?"

Morgan couldn't bear to say aloud that she wasn't at all sure he'd make the time. His wife wouldn't like him flying to Montana for such a task.

"Of course," she said, as firmly as she could.

"Now, Morgan, I want you to be straight with me," Lisa said. Morgan stiffened. Here it came – the accusation she'd been bracing herself against ever since Rob disappeared into his bedroom the previous evening when he was on the phone with his father. His parents had to be wondering if this was all a joke, or if they were being lied to. She was sure Lisa would press her for an answer. "I've waited so long for this," Lisa said. "I had a plain wedding – we had no money at all in those days. Just my parents and siblings and my best friend for my bridesmaid. I vowed right then that if any of my children got married we'd throw them a fairy-tale wedding. Of course, I figured I'd have at least one girl," She trailed off wistfully for a moment, "but the good Lord saw fit to give me four ornery sons. Now that I'm finally getting to throw a wedding I want to do it right. But it's not my wedding. It's yours. You speak up now and tell me to butt right out of it if that's what you want."

Morgan laughed in relief. "Of course not. It's going to be at your house, for one thing."

"That doesn't mean I get to boss you around. The bride calls the shots; that's the way I see it."

"Are you sure this isn't too much trouble for you?" Morgan said. The truth was Lisa's exuberance was overwhelming her. She'd expected anger and suspicion. Instead she was getting enthusiasm.

"Trouble? Are you kidding? I'm over the moon! Of all my sons, Rob's the one I've wanted to see settle down. You have a good man there, Morgan. I hope you know that."

"You don't think it's too soon?" She glanced up to make sure Rob wasn't listening, but he'd disappeared into the bathroom and she could hear the shower running.

"The heart knows what the heart knows. There are some tricks to making a marriage work and I'd be happy to pass on what little wisdom I have, but at the heart of it are a few simple questions. Do your eyes light up when Rob walks into the room? Does your heart skip a beat? Do you feel drawn to him?"

"Yes," Morgan said, smiling a little.

"And when you're angry, are you really angry? Like, ready to blow your top angry?"

"That would be a good thing?" Morgan asked. She hadn't had time to be that angry with Rob yet.

"Yes. Passion. It's all about passion," Lisa said. "When you couldn't care less if he comes or goes, and you can't muster up the energy to get truly angry at him; that's when you've got a problem."

"Hmmm." She'd have to remember that.

"I'm going to let you go have your supper now. I'm going to email you some menu ideas. Are you on Pinterest? I have a whole board of bouquets! You have to
friend
me."

Morgan held the phone away from her ear. Friend her mother-in-law?

"As soon as you get here we'll go to Ellie's Bridals. If she doesn't have exactly what you want, we'll get it custom made. Rob sent me a photo of you; you'll make a lovely bride."

"Okay," Morgan said, trying to keep up. "But…we haven't talked about the cost. I have some money…"

"Honey, you stop worrying right now. Any woman who's head over heels in love with my baby is going to get pampered from here to next week by me! You won't be footing the bill for a single thing. That's my job. Aria and I were never exactly what you'd call close, but we were friendly and I know she'd want me to do this for you. If she were here, she'd throw you the wedding of the century. Since she can't, I will. Talk to you tomorrow."

And with that, she hung up.

"You okay?" Rob said, entering the room with a towel wrapped around his waist. "What did she say to you?" He frowned with concern when she didn't answer right away.

Morgan shook herself out of her thoughts. She was floored by Lisa's friendliness and generosity. "I'm fine. She said all the right things." She smiled. This was going to work; finally, she was going to get the family and community she always wanted.

* * * * *

"Of course I'm happy for you," Ethan said when Rob called him. "But I'm stunned. You and Morgan only met last month. You sure you're not rushing into things?"

"You got married to Autumn after only knowing her a month."

"Well, sure – but I lived with her for that month, day and night."

"Emphasis on the nights, huh?"

"Stow it."

Rob chuckled, but Ethan's reaction made him uneasy. Everyone was going to question their sincerity when they heard about their engagement, and he didn't want Morgan to lose her nerve.

"So, one thing," Rob said carefully. "My Dad's going to give us some land as a wedding gift, and I promised Morgan we'd use half of it to start a vineyard."

"You're going to grow grapes in Montana?"

"Yeah – I looked into it. It's possible."

"Seems like a silly thing to do. Cattle's way more profitable."

Rob tamped down on the irritation that surged within him. He'd expected Ethan, at least, to be supportive. "She's my bride. I want to make her happy."

That shut Ethan up. "Okay. I guess I see your point."

"Anyway, for my gift to Morgan I'm giving her a down payment for her business. I want her to have everything she'll need to get prepared for next spring. Between tilling, rootstock, stakes and wires and the rest of it, she estimates it'll take twenty grand above and beyond what she's got to get things started."

"You got that kind of cash kicking around?"

Rob sighed. "You know I don't. Dad gives us room and board, but not much extra. I got a truck payment and a running tab down at the Boot. I figure I've got about eight thousand in the bank."

"In other words you're looking for either a handout or for work," Ethan said. "I've got work, but I don't pay twelve grand a month."

"I know, buddy. I'm hoping you have some ideas about who might."

Ethan was silent for a while. "You know, with all this settling down and wanting a job, I'm not sure I know who you are anymore."

"Ethan," Rob growled.

"All right, all right – I'll think it over and let you know what I come up with. Meanwhile, I've got one thing to say to you." Suddenly, Ethan sounded dead serious.

"What's that?"

"If you hurt my sister, you're going to be in a world of pain."

CHAPTER EIGHT

Three days later it was Saturday, the day of the party at Cassidy's to honor Morgan's first vintage. In some ways it had been the best week of her life. Even though the hours in the distillery were long, she knew that Rob was working in the fields with Raoul and the other men close at hand. At night, they went home to pack her things and then fall in to bed to explore each other's bodies and find every which way to wring pleasure out of them. On the other hand, the strain was telling on her. Elliot was angry with her for wanting to leave, and Duncan seemed to be going out of his way to make her life miserable. If it hadn't been for the celebration of her new vintage tonight, she would have walked out days ago.

Only a week to go, she told herself as she finished getting dressed. When she came out of the bedroom a moment later, Rob whistled.

"You look stunning."

Dressed in a scarlet sheath dress with a sweetheart neckline and a knee-length, pencil-thin fitted skirt, she felt sexy and curvy and knew he'd have a hard time keeping his hands off of her. Her matching stiletto heels and scarlet lipstick made a bold statement, and she'd done her dark hair up into a crisp chignon. Since this was her vintage being celebrated tonight, she had dressed for the limelight.

"You look very handsome," she said. Rob did look handsome. Unfortunately, he looked supremely uncomfortable, too, in the tailored suit they'd picked out for him when she realized he'd be here for the celebration.

"I still think my jeans and blazer would have done fine," he said.

"Pretend they are your jeans and blazer. Don't worry so much."

"I keep thinking I’m going to tear something. These pants don't fit right."

Morgan bit her lip to keep from laughing at the cowboy. Poor man. He was wrong, though; his pants fit fine.

She wrapped a silky shawl around her shoulders. "Come on, time to go."

* * * * *

Rob guessed the monkey suit had been a good call, after all, as he mingled among the throngs of society folks who'd come out to try Cassidy Wineries' newest vintage. He had a glass of the stuff in his hand and he had to admit it tasted mighty good. Especially paired with the appetizers uniformed waitstaff were passing around to the guests. He snagged another one off a passing tray – some kind of cracker topped with ingredients he could barely begin to guess at. A cheesy paste of some sort. He popped it whole into his mouth.

Now that was tasty.

The company left something to be desired, though. Everyone seemed to know everyone else, while he knew nobody. He'd exchanged a few stilted sentences with a man near the entrance, and a woman in the middle of the room, but after they found out he was a cowboy from Montana, the conversations stopped cold.

He ran a hand through his hair. Morgan had nixed his cowboy hat. Said it wasn't done to wear one inside at an event like this. He felt half-bald without it, and of course no one knew what he was since it wasn't sitting on his head. If he'd been able to wear it, people interested in cattle and ranching could spot it from anywhere in the room and make a bee-line to him. Everything would be easy, then. As it was, how was he supposed to figure out who liked to talk ranching, and who didn't?

What did all these city people do, anyway? He decided to find out.

A quick scan of the room showed him a young lady reaching for an appetizer. She didn't seem to belong to any of the knots of conversations around her. A few steps brought him to her side and he selected another tidbit from the same tray.

"Good, aren't they?" he said, remembering just in time not to speak with his mouth full. Dinners at the Matheson ranch could become something of a free for all. Best to mind his manners here.