Wildflower Bride in Dry Creek

“I only planned the memorial service because you saved my life,” she finally said. And she had only come to Dry Creek because her best friend, Kelly Norton, had told her that she’d never feel comfortable marrying anyone until she found closure with Tyler. Her father was pressuring her to marry his attorney but she refused to even get to know the man.

“Nice shirt,” Angelina added just to hide her nerves. She didn’t know how much closure she’d have now that Tyler was alive. He was wearing a Western-style beige shirt with pearl snaps on it and the way it opened at the collar showed the strength of his neck. She was glad Kelly wasn’t here to see that or she’d be going on about how handsome and manly Tyler was. Angelina certainly hoped he didn’t think she was snooping around his hometown because she still had a crush on him like she had in high school. She never would have come if she thought he’d show up.

“You don’t owe me for saving your life,” he said finally. “Your father gave me a bonus. I got the engine rebuilt in my pickup with it.”

“Well, I didn’t go to much trouble,” Angelina said, gathering her dignity around her. Fortunately, she hadn’t arranged for anyone to sing at the funeral. And the reception afterward was going to be simple even if she expected fifty or so people.

Then she remembered in dismay that she had ordered the gravestone with the custom-carved angel sitting on it. She had figured there should be some marker for Tyler even if he didn’t have a final resting place for his bones. Hopefully, the receipt wouldn’t be attached when the company delivered it to the ranch. It had been a little expensive, but the salesman had told her it was a memorial forever to a good friend. One of those priceless gestures that are supposed to be important in life.

Now it was just an awkward chunk of marble, nothing but a tribute to her impetuous nature. She couldn’t send it back, either, not with the custom features she’d added.

“You couldn’t have any event out at the ranch without going to some work,” Tyler said as he stood up again. “The house had to be filthy since no one has lived there for over a decade now. It would take a week just to get it in shape.”

“Oh,” Angelina said and felt the rest of the air go out of her. The gravestone might not be her biggest worry.

The sheriff chuckled again and turned to her. “You best take him out to the ranch so he can see how things are. And won’t Mrs. Hargrove be out there rehearsing her prayer?”

“You’re having someone pray over me?” Tyler asked, clearly alarmed. “I don’t have much to do with church and praying, you know.”

“Well, you will at your funeral,” Angelina snapped. She was trying to learn patience, but, really, she had meant the service as a kindness to him. “That poor woman prayed for you every day when you were in the military so you can accept a few words at your funeral. She said she’d prayed for you as a boy and she wasn’t about to stop when you needed it most.”

“She did?” Tyler seemed surprised. “I always liked her. She used to carry lemon drops in her apron pocket for all us kids.”

“Well, I want you to know that Mrs. Hargrove kept right on praying for you even when they said you were dead,” Angelina continued. “That’s why I thought we needed some kind of a service. Lots of people here were praying once they found out you were in the military and they needed closure so they could say goodbye.”

Tyler looked stunned. “Why would people pray for me? I never went to the church here—well, except for that one time to Sunday school in the basement. I thought they’d chase me off if I tried to go to the upstairs meetings. My brothers and I were troublemakers. Everyone knew that.”

“You were soldier of the month in the prayer chain four times last year,” the sheriff said. “They had your picture in the bulletin recently and everything.”

Angelina thought the lawman was enjoying this a little too much.

“How did they get a picture of me?” Tyler asked, looking bewildered. “I had just turned thirteen when my brother and I were sent to that state group home. And I don’t think anyone took my photo back then anyway.”

Sheriff Wall seemed to take delight in pointing to her.

“I gave them the photo,” she confessed. Really, it was no big deal. She’d taken pictures of everyone she hung out with in high school. She might have a few more of Tyler than the other students, but that was just because he was always there.

In addition to the closure with Tyler, part of the reason she’d come to Dry Creek was that she remembered him describing the community. This place had always felt like home to her even though she’d never seen it. The church. The small café. The town was like some distant Camelot just waiting for her. Besides, something was going on in her father’s house in Boston and she didn’t want to stay there. The staff kept whispering and no one would tell her why.

“You go to the church?” Tyler asked her.

“I plan to become a woman of deep faith,” she said. She and Mrs. Hargrove were reading the New Testament together. “At least as deep as possible, with God’s help.”

Tyler looked pained. “You’re not becoming a nun or anything are you?”

“Are you working for my father?”

Tyler nodded.

“Then you must know I’ve become a Christian.” She tried to keep the annoyance out of her voice. Being patient was a hard virtue to learn, but she was determined. “I want to know what God wants me to do with my life, not only what my father wants.”

“Your father is concerned about you and he’s also worried about your trust fund. Said you’d mentioned giving it away.”

“I said I might set up a charitable foundation. Really, my father never paid any attention to me when I was growing up. And now that I’m doing something responsible, he gets all protective.”

“He wants what’s best for you.”

She forced herself to smile and continue. “I have a perfectly ordinary job as a relief cook for the Elkton ranch. Their regular cook is taking care of her ill mother up in Oregon. It was last minute, so they were glad to get someone to fill in for her. I go to church in Dry Creek on Sunday and I read the Bible. That’s my life here.”

“Well,” Tyler said, looking down like there was something interesting about his boots. “Your father said the other reason you’re out here is that you’re supposed to marry some Daryl guy, but you have cold feet.”

“Derrick,” she corrected him with more force than was probably necessary. “His name is Derrick Carlson and my feet are perfectly fine.”

“So what’d the guy do?” Tyler asked, looking up at her.

The sheriff cleared his throat again. Angelina had forgotten the lawman was there.

“I’ll just go take Prince for a walk,” the sheriff said.

“You don’t need to leave,” she told him and then turned back to Tyler. “I have no secrets. Derrick didn’t do anything. Nothing at all. I barely know the man. He asked my father for his permission to marry me. I’m afraid my father is suffering from some stress-related problem. I had to try some wedding dress on just to calm him down. And he booked a small church for the ceremony—he actually scheduled it. He gets so agitated when I say I’m not marrying Derrick that I’m afraid he’s going to have a heart attack.”

“Your father says he’s just concerned about your future.”

Angelina folded her arms. “He’s anxious about something, all right. But it’s not me.”

“Maybe he just wants you to get to know this Daryl guy.”

“It’s Derrick. He wears Armani suits and plays golf with my father. I doubt he even wears T-shirts on the weekend.”

“Well, that’s not a crime,” Tyler said. “And he might have a problem with expressing himself.”

“He’s my father’s lawyer. How much of a problem could he have?”

She glanced over at the sheriff. The man was inching away from them.

Angelina turned back to Tyler. She didn’t have time to worry about making the sheriff squirm. “I think Derrick needs to be investigated. Who was that guy who used to sneak around and find out things for you anyway? You always made him do that before I could date anyone.”

“Clyde?” Tyler looked surprised. “I don’t know if he’s still in business. And that was high school. It was easy to find out who the jerks were back then. Clyde just hung out in the lunchroom when you weren’t around and listened to what they said. He always charged me for his lunch, too, by the way.”

“Well, maybe Clyde can investigate Derrick. And have him check into my father, too.”

Tyler scowled at her. “Again? I thought you would have learned to trust your father by now.”

Angelina willed herself to take a breath. “This isn’t like high school. I’m not asking you to investigate my father because I want to get his attention. I really think something’s wrong. Maybe Derrick is blackmailing him and that’s why my father is insisting I marry the man.”

“What would he have on your father?”

“I don’t know, “Angelina tried to stay calm. “But even though my father is, well, my father—he could still have this secret life I don’t know anything about.”

“I thought we settled that. You’re not adopted. And your father doesn’t have another family hidden away somewhere.”

“But you always told me to trust my intuition. And something’s wrong.”

Tyler closed his eyes. “I meant you should pay attention to your surroundings. If you thought the bush was moving, assume it was.”

“Well, the bush is moving—it’s my father.”

“That’s not—” Tyler started and then stopped. “Fine. If it makes you feel better, I’ll call Clyde.”

“Thank you.”

“As I remember, Clyde was taking classes to earn a finance degree,” Tyler said. “Claimed he wanted to end up on Wall Street. He’s probably wearing an Armani suit himself now.”

“We’ve all changed.” She hadn’t realized how much she’d missed Tyler. She wondered if he’d stay in touch with her this time. After high school, he had just ridden off into the sunset without a look back to see if she was standing there watching him leave.

“And even if we give Clyde a free lunch, he’ll want to be paid regular, too,” Tyler said.

Angelina nodded. “You know I have money.”

He grunted at that. “You’re an heiress. I know.”

“That’s not who I am,” she snapped back.

Then she realized she was a working woman now. And she was supposed to have the evening meal on the table by five-thirty in the Elkton bunkhouse. She had a nice beef stew in the oven and had told the ranch hands to be punctual because Tyler’s memorial service was scheduled for seven-thirty. She had insisted they all go, and the foreman had backed her up. When the cowboys hesitated, she had promised them biscuits with honey butter. She didn’t know what the foreman had offered them.

Whatever it was though they would probably still want their biscuits. But before she could make any, there was something else she needed to do.

“I need to go out to your ranch,” she told Tyler. She had to explain things to his family before she could think of feeding the ranch hands. “You may as well ride with me.”

“In that?” Tyler looked at her convertible like it was a leaky tub she was planning to set afloat in a raging flood. “That thing isn’t made for these country roads. And your driving isn’t—”

“Fine,” she interrupted him. Why had she decided to have a funeral for the one man who felt free to criticize her? Maybe he only spoke his mind so freely because they were friends. But right now she didn’t have time to argue. “I’ll ride with you then.”

She walked over and pushed the button that put up the roof on her car.

“Don’t forget Prince here,” the sheriff said as he let go of the dog’s leash.

“He rides in the back,” Tyler said.

“But he could fall out,” Angelina protested as she pushed another button to roll up her windows.

“Not at the speed I drive these roads,” Tyler said. “Only fools go fast on gravel roads. It makes too much dust and ruins your shocks.”

With that he turned his back on her and headed toward his pickup. Prince, the traitor, followed right along with him, his leash and the ribbon she’d put on him this morning, trailing behind.

She wished she could just refuse to ride with Tyler, she thought as she hurried after them. But she needed to prepare him. She really hadn’t intended to meddle in his life, she assured herself as she walked to the other side of his pickup. Of course, it couldn’t be seen as interfering since she’d thought he was dead.

Tyler opened the passenger door for her and she started to climb into the vehicle. He was reasonable. Maybe he would even see the gravestone with the angel as a compliment. It’s not like she had gotten the one with the inset photograph on it, she reminded herself. Now, that would have been extravagant.

She sat down on the seat in the cab. And that’s when she saw the photo.

“You’ve got my picture,” she said, pointing to it. “Right there.”

She hated that picture. Her father’s secretary had taken the shot, and Angelina thought it made her look like a porcelain doll. No one needed a wedding dress with that much netting. But when she complained, her father had merely sent the garment back for adjustments.

“Ah—” Tyler stopped with his hand on the door. “It was for identification purposes.”

“You needed a picture to identify me! We spent my whole senior year together.”

“Well, of course, I know what you look like,” Tyler said as he put his right hand up and ran his fingers through his hair. She remembered that gesture. It meant he didn’t want to admit something.

“Then why did you have the picture?” she asked, some of her pride soothed.

“I was trying to figure out why you were marrying that Daryl guy.”

“Derrick,” she corrected him automatically. “His name is Derrick. And I’m not marrying him.”

“Your father said the wedding was all set and is just postponed.”

“There is no wedding.”

“I have a feeling that will change,” Tyler said gloomily and with that he shut her door.

She watched him walk around the pickup toward his own door. Strangely enough, she kind of liked that he was curious about her and Derrick. She had confided in Tyler when she was in high school, but that was a long time ago. She wondered if he might be just a little bit jealous.

The truth was she didn’t have good radar when it came to men. Mrs. Hargrove was helping her correct that and, when she had gotten to know the older woman, Angelina could see that Mrs. Hargrove and her husband were deeply in love with each other and with God. They had given her hope that she might find someone special like that, too, someday.

All of her life Angelina had felt like she was on the outskirts of something warm and cozy because she was not important to anyone’s happiness. Maybe if her mother hadn’t died when she was young, she would have more of a sense of being part of a family. But it had just been her and her father for as long as she could remember and he had been preoccupied with building his empire. What he had was never enough for him.

Tyler opened his door and climbed into the driver’s seat of the pickup.

Of course, Tyler never needed anyone or anything but himself, either.

Her big problem, she told herself still looking at him out of the corner of her eye, was that she always fell for the bad boys. She liked to believe one of them would draw her so close that his life would be empty without her. Unfortunately, good girls with trust funds should never go for the bad boys. Her father hadn’t given her much advice, or attention, over the years, but he had drilled that one lesson into her teenage head.

She wasn’t sure, but she thought her father had Tyler in mind when he gave her that lecture.

Of course, she doubted Mrs. Hargrove would think Tyler was the one for her, either. It’d be hard for him to claim he was a godly man and that was number one on the older woman’s qualities for a husband.

“Don’t you ever pray?” she asked him now, her voice quiet.

Tyler looked at her and shook his head.

Well, she knew that, she told herself. There was no need for disappointment. She just needed to press forward with the memorial tonight. Maybe that would help her say a final goodbye to Tyler.

Chapter Two

Tyler kept his eyes on the road as he drove. The afternoon sun was low in the sky, but it was behind him so he could see clearly without squinting. His window was down a little and the faint smell of sage drifted in. He was trying to keep things between him and Angelina in perspective. Her tears hadn’t been for him personally. It had been unsettling for her to see someone she thought was dead, but that would pass.

Her feelings had always been delicate.

Besides, her father was right to warn him away from her. If he ever married, Tyler told himself he should marry someone who knew what it was like to survive with little money. Someone who’d grown up in the country like he had. He might still think about Angelina, but that was probably just because that year guarding her had been the happiest one of his life. He hadn’t had many friends in his life and no one bubbled over with happiness like she did.

He tried to relax the muscles on his shoulders. The more he thought about it, the more likely he decided it was that Angelina was going to marry that man. She always was skittish about serious relationships. All of her worry about having the man investigated was probably a stalling tactic, just something to allow her some breathing room. It was hard for her to trust men. Her father might not have spent much time with her when she was growing up, but he was unerring in his understanding of her.

Tyler unclenched his teeth and smiled at her. He’d call her bluff on this one and contact Clyde.

“I forgot how dry it can be this time of year,” Tyler said, feeling the slight movement of air on his face. “It’s nice though.”

He glanced over at Angelina and she was looking straight ahead.

Clumps of scrub grass covered the ground on both sides of his pickup and the prairie spread out into the distance with a few weeds and some tiny wildflowers showing up here and there. He’d guess they were bluebells. Back down the road a piece, he had seen a desert cottontail rabbit, its brown body crouched low beside a fence post. The blue sky faded to white in the heat of the day.

“There’s not too much breeze coming in for you, is there?” he asked her, suddenly realizing he hadn’t found out if she minded if he kept his window open a little. He might not be in her social class, but he had always tried to have common courtesy. And women worried about their hair no matter how much money they had. “I know it can be dusty.”

“I drive a convertible,” she replied, turning to him with a quiet smile. Her hair had fallen into place after her ride to town and he hadn’t even seen her pull out a comb.

“Oh.” He looked down to see if she had a purse with her that might hold a brush of some kind. That’s when he saw she was tapping one foot on the floorboard. It wasn’t loud enough to be heard above the engine, but he knew her well enough to know that any kind of foot tapping was a sure sign she was nervous.

“I see someone worked on the road out here,” he said as he looked up again. He didn’t know what could be wrong. Maybe she was worried he might misinterpret the funeral she was planning for him. He should assure her that he understood she had done it because she remembered him from the past.

Before Tyler could say anything, his eyes were drawn down again. He’d always worn cowboy boots, but he marveled at the sparkly footwear Angelina seemed to find. She had tiny leather straps running over her feet and the largest rhinestones he’d ever seen were cinching the pieces together. At least, he hoped they were rhinestones. With her money, he wasn’t sure that they weren’t some kind of rare jewel.

He reigned in his thoughts and tried to focus. “My father kept calling the county officials about the road before—”

Angelina’s tapping stopped. Tyler winced. He should have known better than to bring up his father. Not everyone was comfortable being reminded of a man who had been murdered.

“Not everyone knows that the gravel needs to be just right for these roads,” Tyler pressed on, turning his eyes completely away from her feet and trying to salvage the conversation.

He could feel Angelina looking at him even though he kept staring ahead.

“For the road to be bladed,” he continued, set in his course, “it needs at least four inches of rock and clay mixture. If the rocks are too small they get pushed to the side and nothing is left but dried dirt. If they’re too big, they can fly up and hit a car that’s following someone. Not that two cars ever meet up on this road anyway. Our ranch is—I mean, was—the only place out this way. Well, except for the Mitchell place and they didn’t drive the roads much, either. It was just Amy—she was my brother’s girlfriend. Sort of, anyway. And then there was her grandfather and her Aunt Tilly.”

“I’ve met Amy and Aunt Tilly.”

Now that he was talking, Tyler realized it was very unusual that a county as poor as this one would have spent money to regrade a gravel road leading to a couple of old ranches, one of them deserted and the other one almost as bad since they hadn’t been farming it much even when he left. There was a barbed-wire fence on both sides of the road and somebody must use that land for grazing, but there still wouldn’t be enough traffic to justify the price of new gravel.

Then it hit him.

“You didn’t pay to have the road done, did you?” He turned to Angelina. “I know you’ve invited lots of people out to the ranch, but it’s not worth having the road repaired just so they have a smooth ride in. They’re probably all driving pickups anyway.”

She had always thrown herself into anything she did, so Tyler couldn’t fault her for that. But he didn’t want his funeral to be one of her charity projects. Just because she had money to burn didn’t mean she should waste any on him. Better she should pick up another stray dog like Prince.

“I didn’t do anything to the road,” she assured him stiffly.

“Good.”

Then Tyler heard her take a deep breath. “About the road—”

His stomach muscles rolled again.

“I think your brother did,” she added softly. “Fixed the road, that is.”

That made him brake to a stop, right there in the middle of the road. A couple of sparrows flew up from the tall grass beside the road and a cloud of dust floated up from his wheels.

“My brother? Which one?” he asked, joy racing through him as he turned to her. He’d been meaning to call both of his brothers on the telephone. He hadn’t spoken to them for years. They hadn’t been close as boys, but he figured that was because they were each trying to survive their father’s wrath in their own way. “Was it Jake? He left a few phone messages on a number I had given him, but I was overseas and didn’t get them until a week ago. Of course, it could have been Wade, too, I suppose. He wouldn’t have my number, but he’d call if he could. Wade’s my oldest brother, but Jake’s right behind him.”

He stopped before he made a blabbering fool of himself.

“I’m sure they’ll both be happy to hear from you.” She turned to look at him then. Her blue eyes were kind and somewhat earnest. “In fact, they’re at the ranch now.”

“Here?” Now that was good news, Tyler thought.

She nodded and hesitated again. “Along with your mother.”

Tyler was glad he’d already stopped the pickup. He would have run into the ditch otherwise.

“They let my mother come? Here?” he said, relief flooding him. Then he realized. “Oh, of course—because of the memorial service.”

He’d heard of prisoners being given a compassionate leave to attend such events. His mother had to be near the end of her sentence anyway. The judge had gone light on her after news of all of his father’s abuse had come out in the trial. Tyler decided it wasn’t so bad to have this whole mix-up if it gave his mother a few days of freedom.