Karen Whittenburg - His Shotgun Proposal

“Mac?” Aha, Jessica thought, pretending to take no notice that of the three male cousins, Abbie had twice now referred only to one. Of course, she had yet to meet Alex and Cade, and she had just spent the long ride from the airport to the ranch alone with Mac, but still…“Prince of aggravation, if you want my true opinion,” Jess said with an affectionate laugh. “They came to live with Mom and Dad before I was even born, so they’re more like brothers than cousins and Mac is the worst when it comes to teasing me. When he really wants to get me riled, he calls me ‘Husky’ because that breed of dog often has eyes that are different colored and he knows how much I hate having one blue eye and one green one. When he just wants to agitate me a little, he calls me Blondie.” She touched her carroty red hair, wishing it was blond or black, or even a nice sandy-brown like Abbie’s.

Abbie offered a small smile, but it was obvious her thoughts were elsewhere.

“Well, listen to me, nattering at you about my cousins, when it’s clear you need a chance to catch your breath and get your bearings. I don’t know what’s keeping Mac.” She glanced over her shoulder in time to see him clear the landing and stalk down the hall towards the guest room, a bag under each arm and one in each hand. His whole expression was as dark as a Texas tornado and Jessica couldn’t keep her eyebrows from arching in sharpening suspicion. As curious as it seemed, something unpleasant must have happened between her cousin and her friend on the trip out from Austin.

“You want to be in or out?” he asked, his tone of voice as tight and short as the check rein on a green colt. “I can’t get all these bags through the doorway with you standing in it.”

Jessica stepped farther into the room, clearing the doorway for him and his temper. He took two long strides into the room and dumped all four suitcases onto the bed. “Miss Jones. Jessica,” he said, acknowledging and dismissing their presence in three cool-as-icicles words. Then, without a glance at Abbie, who was now surrounded by a motley assortment of luggage, he strode out of the room as if somebody had insulted every single one of his prize Arabians. The thud of his boot heels on the stairs echoed with military precision and then, in final salute to his dark mood, the front door slammed behind him.

Jessie blinked. She’d never seen Mac act that way before. He could be as charming as a patch of bluebells in the spring, or as haughty as Jabbar, the Desert Rose foundation sire, a black Arabian stallion who, on occasion, took his status as champion entirely too seriously. But she’d never seen Mac be rude to anyone and especially not to a female. And one of her good friends, at that. Her gaze swung back to Abbie as suspicion crystallized and ran rampant in her thoughts. What could have caused the two of them to take such an instant dislike to the other? Could Abbie have inadvertently said something to set off an exchange of words? Maybe Mac had uttered some ill-advised statement. But they’d only just met. What could possibly have caused a rift of this magnitude in a drive of barely an hour?

Filing away her questions, Jessie indicated the adjoining bath with a gesture. “There’s the bath. It opens into my room on the other side, so just lock that door when you go in, and don’t forget to unlock it when you leave. I’ll get out of here and let you rest a little while before dinner. Unpack or take a nap or a shower, or whatever you feel like doing. I’ll be downstairs in the office, if you need anything or when you’re ready for the grand tour. Dinner’s at six. We’re pretty casual, although Mom has been known to check for dirt on the knuckles or behind the ears, so be forewarned.”

“I’ll be sure and wash my ears, then,” Abbie said, trying for a smile but looking mainly mad and scared and like the smallest gust of wind would send her tumbling backward into the pile of suitcases. “Hands, too.”

“Mom will be pleased. She’s looking forward to meeting you, as is everyone. I’ve talked about you so much and they’re all excited that you’re going to help out in the office. I’m so happy you’re here, Abbie. And so glad you felt you could call me when you lost your job. I hope you’ll feel right at home here at the Desert Rose and I want you to stay as long as you want.”

Abbie’s smile quavered even more at that. “I don’t know, Jessie.”

“Don’t feel you have to give us any time frame at all. I mean it. You’re doing me such a favor by helping out. I’ve been buried in paperwork the last couple of months and still it keeps pouring in! You may run away screaming when you see my desk. It’s just awful.” Jess knew she was blathering on and on, but the atmosphere was charged somehow with an element she couldn’t put her finger on or identify. “I haven’t told anyone except Mom and Aunt Rose about your being pregnant and losing your job and needing a place to get your thoughts together, so don’t feel as if you need to explain anything to anyone. Not even me.”

“Not much to tell.” Abbie stood and smoothed the shirt over her belly to reveal the firm roundness of it. “I haven’t even told my parents yet, and look at me. Already as ripe as a June melon.” She sighed. “I’m in such a mess, Jessie, and I’m grateful beyond words that you invited me here, but I just don’t think I can stay. Not now.”

“You’re staying,” Jessica said firmly. “And if Mac said anything to upset you, I’ll wring his neck in three places.”

Abbie’s eyes went wide with panic. “No, please, don’t. I mean, why would you think he upset me?”

Bingo, Jess thought, although she still couldn’t quite tally the clues into a clear and likely conclusion. “Well, no more talk about not staying, then. Get unpacked and don’t worry about a thing. I mean it! You need a couple of weeks to get your thoughts together and decide what you want to do. This is the perfect place. No one will bother you, I promise. Well, that’s not entirely true. I’ll probably pester you to death with office work, but other than that, you’ll have plenty of time to rest and make a few decisions. Then, when the moment comes to tell your folks, you’ll know what you want to say.” She smiled broadly. “Now, telling your brothers may be a different story, if they’re as zealously overprotective as you’ve said they are.”

“Whatever I told you about them was an understatement,” Abbie said with a rueful sigh. “They’re going to drive me crazy with their ideas on what I need to do and when, where, how, and why I need to do it. I’m really, really, really dreading the moment they have to know.”

“Well, for now, at least, you’ll have some peace and quiet so you can make your own decisions before you have to face them.”

“I just hope they don’t find me in the meantime.” Abbie opened her purse and pulled out a compact cell phone. “I’m going to use this phone whenever I call home and even then, I’m going to be very careful about what I say. On the off chance they call you, just tell them that as far as you know, I’m spending the summer at a math and science camp in the Catskills.”

“If that’s your story, I’ll stick to it until you tell me otherwise.” Jess couldn’t help it. She gave Abbie a hug. “This is going to work out great for both of us, Abbie. Everything will turn out for the best, I just know it. Now I’m really getting out of here and giving you some time to settle in.” Bouncing on her heels, she grinned at Abbie and walked to the door, looking back to see if her friend’s expression was in any degree lighter. It was. In fact, Abbie was looking around the room as if she couldn’t imagine a nicer place to call her temporary home. “And on the off chance Mac did say something stupid on the drive out, don’t take it personally,” Jessie cautioned. “He’s just been in a very black mood for the past few months.”

Abbie looked up, startled into a revealing expression. “Mac didn’t say anything,” she declared, too quickly to be believable. “Please don’t mention to him that you thought he had.”

“Sure thing. There’s soap and extra towels in the armoire by the bathroom door. Anything else you need, just ask. And thanks, Abbie, for coming. It means a lot to me to have you here.” She stepped into the hall and closed the door behind her before Abbie felt obligated to reply. Jessie couldn’t imagine what had happened between her cousin and her friend, but she was determined to get to the bottom of it by noon tomorrow—or give Mac a major headache in the attempt.

MAC SLAMMED THE DOOR of his pickup, unable to vent the depth of his frustration no matter how many doors he slammed. He’d avoided Abigail Jones and her crass accusations by avoiding everyone. He’d dumped her bags in the guest room, slammed the front door behind him and hightailed it off the ranch. He wanted nothing to do with her and didn’t trust himself to stay away from her, so he climbed right back into his pickup—slamming the door so hard, he was surprised the window didn’t break—and drove off without a word to anyone.

He’d driven with a scowl all the way into Fredericksburg, where he’d ordered a dinner he didn’t eat and a beer he didn’t drink, and stared out the restaurant window until the waiter asked for the umpteenth time if everything was satisfactory, to which Mac had replied finally “No. No, it isn’t.” Then he’d thrown who knows how much money onto the table to make up for not touching the food and drink and walked out, every bit as miserable as when he’d walked in. Driving west to San Marcos, he’d stopped to skip rocks into the muddy Blanco River, then slammed the pickup door once again and driven a succession of winding roads back to Bridle and the ranch, a round trip of close to two hundred miles. And all he’d accomplished was to shift his mood from black to gloomy gray.

He figured Abbie had told her lies to the whole family by now, and his absence had only given them validity. But what did he care? His family would stand shoulder to shoulder with him when they knew the truth. He could count on them. If there was anything in life he was certain of, it was that family mattered. Right now, they might all be wondering why he’d allowed Abbie to lure him into the same trap Gillian had set for him only a couple of years before. On the other hand, they might have greeted Abbie’s tale of woe with a sympathetic ear. But once he revealed her for the fraud she was, his family would stand with him against her. He knew they would.

Of course, it probably would have made things easier for them if he’d stood his ground tonight instead of running like a coward who had something to hide. But he just couldn’t bear the thought of sitting across the dinner table from the woman who’d haunted his dreams for months now, knowing her for the schemer she obviously had been all along. So he ran. Running from the memory of Gillian’s betrayal two years ago. Running from the memory of how sweet Abbie’s kiss had seemed five months earlier. Running from his own traitorous heart, which couldn’t seem to distinguish between lust and love. It was nearly midnight now and for all the miles he’d gone, he hadn’t outrun even one of the voices in his head. Gillian had lied to him. Abbie had lied to him. Women could not be trusted. There wasn’t an ounce of honor among them.

Okay, so there were a few good ones out there. His two new sisters-in-law, Hannah and Serena, for example. Neither of them would have considered resorting to trickery and treachery to gain the name of Coleman. He couldn’t imagine them staking the life of a child against the possibility of an advantageous marriage, as Gillian had done. As Abbie was doing. His cousin, too, was as moral and honest as any old-fashioned girl, but then Jessie was born a Coleman and had been raised with the proper respect for the truth. Olivia Smith, the young ranch hand he’d taken on as an assistant trainer, was as wholesome as fresh butter and far too good with horses to harbor any deceit. Horses, especially Arabians, had a keen sense of just who could be trusted and who couldn’t. Then, on the list of honorable women, there was Aunt Vi, who couldn’t even tell a fib without blushing a vivid, culpable red. And although Mac had only recently begun to know his mother, Rose, he refused to believe she had ever stooped to duplicity when it came to dealing with his father, or any other man.