The Bride Wore Starlight (3 page)

“Really. Please don't bother ever to do that.”

“Why?” He looked her straight in the eye. “What's wrong, Joely? Did you shut me down because you had a serious accident and now a little scar makes you too self-conscious to get close to anyone?”

Her shock was complete and paralyzing. How dare he?

“That was inappropriately rude.” She managed to croak out the admonishment while her cheeks flushed with embarrassed fury. “And it's completely untrue.”

That was a lie.

“I've gotten to spend some time with your mother and sisters the past few days. They told me about your injuries and your unusually long stint in rehab. But I personally know a little something about long stints. I can promise you'll come back from this. You shouldn't hide.”

He leaned forward, gently placed a long forefinger beneath her chin, and tilted her head up, bringing their eyes to within mere inches apart. She hadn't thought shock could drill any deeper into her heart, but he dumbfounded her. After staring at him too long one more time, she managed to jerk her head free.

“Who do you think you are?”

To his credit, he looked momentarily contrite. “I'm sorry,” he replied. “That was out of line.” His confidence bounced back almost immediately after his apology, and he flashed the knicker-removing smile once more. “In truth I'm only here because you're part of my current mission.” He reached into the sport coat pocket and pulled out a thick envelope. “This was hand-delivered this morning. Gabe asked me to sign for it, so I did. Now it's fallen to me to make sure you get it.” He handed her the letter and stood, pushing back his chair. “I'll stop bothering you now. It was nice to meet you, Joely Crockett. I'll see you in a couple of hours at the wedding.”

She didn't correct his mistake with her last name and barely noticed him start back across the room. She'd read the return address on the envelope, and none of Alec Morrissey's forwardness or his apology mattered any longer. After eight months, her husband had finally surfaced, and from the thickness of the envelope, she knew he hadn't sent her anything good.

Alec turned to glance back at her. “Everything all right?” he asked.

“None of your business,” she said quietly.

“Fair enough. Hey?” His question from across the room forced her to look up even though doing so made her light-headed. “Save me a dance.”

Her jaw went slack. “Is that some kind of joke?”

“Not at all. Sounds like it's time you got back out on the floor. I'd like to be one of your first partners.” He turned but hesitated. “You know. If you don't want to sit here all alone—just get up and go find your family.”

Tears beaded in her eyes at the thoughtless ease with which he managed to insult and humiliate her at the same time.

“You're awfully quick to judge me, Mr. Morrissey. What, you listen to a few things my mother has to say and now you think you know all about me? Don't you dare presume to tell me what I can and cannot do. Or what, in your high-and-mighty opinion, I
should
do.”

“Joely. I'm sorry. I know I'm being a jerk. I'm just a guy not known for my tact, trying to toss out tough love. I shouldn't have.”

“What makes you think I need tough love? That's pretty arrogant.”

“You're right. Let me make it up with that dance tonight.”

“I. Can't. Dance.” She nearly spit the words.

He smiled and shook his head no. “Sure you can. I'll see you later and prove it. And, I am sorry I pissed you off.”

He left. Finally.

She fumed at his retreat.

Pissed her off? There hadn't been a bigger understatement since “Houston, we have a problem.” Of all the superior, condescending buttholes. She wouldn't dance with Alec Morrissey if she had two working legs.

She cooled her irritation with a long, slow breath and dropped her gaze to the envelope on the table. She knew she should wait until after the weddings to open it, but aggravation had her ripping open the flap, pulling out the sheaf of papers, and attempting to slog through the legalese that swam before her eyes. Moments into the task her anger turned quickly to shock, and her stomach dropped even further from where Alec the Ass had left it. Tim the DoucheWipe had just pulled the plug on her life.

She covered her face with both hands, but this time it wasn't to hide the scar.

P
LEASE BE INFORMED
that benefits will be terminated as of June 1—

Five minutes after daring to read them for the second time, Joely tore her eyes from the words staring at her from the page and gave in to disbelief and anguish.

She didn't care about the divorce Tim was finally willing to discuss “amicably,” according to his lawyer's typed personal note—she'd demanded a separation and then divorce before he had. It was the dictated instructions, the lack of empathy or concern of any kind, and the straits she was now in, thanks to Tim's actions, that left everything from her stomach to her heart feeling like it was curling up and dying.

She didn't doubt for half an aching heartbeat that he knew exactly what day today was and that this was where his legal edict would arrive.

She heard the laughing, excited voices from the kitchen, heralding her family's return. With the panic and swiftness of a thief about to be caught, Joely slapped the letter, divorce terms, and insurance notations into a rough pile and shoved them back in the envelope, ripping it in the process. She barely got it tucked beneath her butt before Mia, Harper, and Kelly entered.

“I'm so sorry,” Harper said. “We didn't realize we'd all trooped into the kitchen at the same time.”

“It happens,” Joely said. “No matter. I met Alec.”

Her mother entered behind the three girls and let her gaze dart around the room. “Alec? He was here?”

Joely nodded.

“Isn't he adorable?” Kelly asked. “Gabe is so happy Alec took him up on his invitation to come live here. He got a job with Breswell Trucking in Jackson, and he's doing great.”

“He lives here?” Joely let her surprise show. “He said he'd come from Texas.”

Her mother nodded. “He did, about two months ago. We'd only met him once before all the wedding festivities. He's such an inspiration.”

“Alec Morrissey . . . ” Joely tried out his name again, slowly.

“I know. It was like meeting a rock star at first,” Kelly said. “Didn't you think?”

“So it
is
him? Alec ‘Mayhem' Morrissey?”

As she recalled, he'd been the national junior champion saddle bronc rider and later PRCA champion several years in a row.

“Sure is,” Kelly agreed. “Since his time overseas, he hasn't participated on any rodeo circuits. Even so, he's still the hottest cowboy I've ever seen. With the exception of my new brothers-in-law.” She grinned at Mia and Harper.

“Nice save.” Mia raised her brows.

And yet, Alec Morrissey had made a point of saying he wasn't a real cowboy. Why would a man whose profession was the quintessential definition of cowboy say such a thing? She'd answer that when she figured out why her husband had ignored her for the past eight months. Stupid men with their secrets and game-playing.

Alec Morrissey's nickname, Mayhem, hadn't had much to do with the rodeo itself but with the destruction of hearts and reputations he'd left in his handsome wake. Buckle Bunnies, those rodeo-crazy girls who had their cowboy hats set for the Mayhem Morrisseys of the world, might have been impressed with his prowess, his smooth tongue, and his penchant for his extreme sport—but she was finished with pretty, shallow men who thought their handsome faces and their laurels gave them license to say anything they wanted.

Or, in the case of Timothy Foster,
take
everything he wanted.

Joely inhaled again, slowly and deeply. “You do have two very sexy cowboys walking down that aisle today,” she said and shifted to make sure none of her special delivery papers showed. “A washed-up rodeo rider can't hold a candle to them.”

“That's my girl!” Harper set a bowl of sliced strawberries on the table and hugged Joely tightly. “Knows where her loyalties lie.”

That was her—always loyal as a rescued pup. Joely set a smile on her face and started the job of faking her way through lunch. It would be good practice for the rest of the day.

Kelly spoiled them with homemade potato leek soup and loaves of crispy-crusted rosemary bread. The salad was cool and fresh, and they sprinkled strawberries on the greens like candy, groaning in happy ecstasy over having their talented chef home to feed them. Everything was light and fun and girlie.

Joely smiled and laughed along with them, and she knew they'd all tell each other later how good the outing had been for their wounded, cloistered sister. They should try to get her out like this more often. And while she didn't begrudge them their happy day or even their concern for her, Joely detested being the object of pity. Once more she wished she could go back to Mary where nobody worried and mostly left her alone.

“That was fantastic,” Harper said when they'd finished the dessert of individual fruit tarts Kelly had created. “What a perfect lunch. I might even still fit into my dress.”

“Me, too.” Mia rubbed her stomach. “I had visions of Raquel having to put her foot in my back and tug on the laces when I heard Kel was cooking for us. You found something perfect.”

Kelly beamed. “Thanks. I love tiny fussy lunches like this—and for this occasion it's even better. What do you think, Jo-Jo? You've been awfully quiet.”

She smiled and waved to dismiss the accurate observation. “I'm overwhelmed by what you magically do in the kitchen,” she replied. “This was so good, and it's fun to listen to all your voices and just be here with you.”

And it was, really, in an emotional whiplash kind of way.

“How's the physical therapy going?” Grace asked. “I hear you've got your little apartment set up so pretty now. We all want to come and visit before we go back to Colorado next week.”

Those were two completely unrelated statements, and Joely didn't know which would be the more immediately painful to address. However pretty the apartment had “gotten,” it wasn't going to be hers much longer, and PT was nothing more than a necessary drudge.

“Therapy is . . . what it is.” She shrugged. “Not much more progress to be made. It's like a maintenance session at the gym.”

“Haven't they found you a good-looking therapist to spice things up yet?” Raquel asked.

Everyone asked the same question. Her sisters had been teasing her about it for six months. Wink wink, nudge nudge, everyone bet she was hiding a hunky PT somewhere—and that's why she was still at the VA apartment. In truth a hunky PT in her world was as mythological as a unicorn. She rotated between three therapists—a fifty-five-year-old father of four, a very nice woman quite overweight, and a fresh-out-of-school girl who was so gung-ho she was more depressing than helpful.

“We're still searching,” she said with a practiced grin. “Send any and all applicants my way.”

Her sisters were in heaven as the teasing continued, but she was just glad to be off the hook for answering any more questions about Alec Morrissey.

“I swear you girls are going to talk your way right into missing your own weddings.”

Grandma Sadie made her way into the room, her steps spry, her cane more of a security measure than a complete necessity. It didn't make a sound on the oak floor, but it was still as much a part of their grandmother as her beautiful, white hair.

“We know you'd never let that happen!” Harper rose from the table and met Grandma Sadie with a kiss to her cheek. “We do tend to forget the time when we're together, don't we?”

“There were many years when you all weren't together, so I understand your excitement,” Grandma said. “It's a blessing that you're together now. But come now, time to get a move on. Less than two hours until the ceremony.”

“Let's clear the dishes,” Mia said. “Then head up to dress.”

“Melanie will get the dishes. She's here now. Time for you six to forget anything but the party.”

In Joely's opinion, Melanie Thorson, the wife of the ranch's foreman, Bjorn, was Paradise's resident superwoman. She homeschooled her three kids, kept track of all the ranch hands and their families, ran her household like a master contractor, and still had time to pitch in and help with anything anytime.

“Come on, Jo-Jo, we'll get you back in your chair.” Grace and Raquel moved to her side.

The envelope beneath her leg burned. She couldn't let them see it, not yet, but clearly she hadn't thought through her plan to hide it.

“It's all right,” she said quickly. “Let me talk to Grandma for a minute. Didn't you say she's my personal assistant?” She smiled as sweetly as she could and waved her sisters and mother out of the room. “You all get going and we'll manage. We'll just be slow.”

On any other day the sisters might have thought the request suspicious. On a double wedding day, however, they let her have her way with no questions. Only her mother hesitated.

“Is everything all right, sweetheart?”

“I'm fine, Mama, promise.” She accepted a kiss. “I have some questions for Grandma that's all, and I haven't had a chance to talk to her much yet. You go ahead and help the others.”

Her mother laughed. “Actually, Gracie is my minion today. You and I are in the ranks of elite for this party, I guess.”

“Then we'll enjoy it while we can,” Joely said. “I can't wait to see you in your dress. I remember when you brought it up to show me.”

“All right. I'll go get started then. There's a lot to do when you're my age.”

“Listen to that girl.” Grandma Sadie spoke for the first time. “You don't know anything about age, missy.”

It was true. Bella Crockett was far from an aged woman. At fifty-eight, she had lustrous chestnut hair she wore past her shoulders, flashing blue eyes, and she could still rock a pair of jeans and a T-shirt as well as her daughters. She'd worked hard on Paradise Ranch, but the life hadn't bowed her. Now that she'd recovered from her accident injuries, she seemed prettier than ever to Joely.

“Some days, Sadie, I think you feel younger than I do.” Her mother smiled. “But not today. Today we bring a lot of life back to Paradise.”

She kissed Joely one more time, did the same to Grandma Sadie, and left the room with a smile and an elegance Joely knew she and her sisters had never noticed when they'd been kids. She wondered if her father had ever really known what a classy woman he'd been married to for thirty-four years.

A wave of sadness washed over her. They were closing in on a year since a heart attack, which even his doctors hadn't seen coming, had taken the robust, active Sam Crockett. What would her tough, hard, focused father have thought of this day?

On the other hand, the chances they'd all be here celebrating two weddings together if he were still alive weren't high. All six of his daughters had left home once they'd hit college age. They hadn't returned to stay until his death. It was likely Harper would never have fallen in love with Cole and probably a sure thing Mia wouldn't have met Gabe. The only one whose life might possibly have been better was her own. Chances were she'd have come back as she'd been planning before his death—but the trip with her mother to California wouldn't have happened as it had. And she wouldn't have been hurrying to get back to the ranch, pulling a loaded trailer too quickly to stop when the chains on that logging truck had snapped. She wouldn't have killed—

“Joely, honey, time to tell me what's wrong.” Her grandmother's voice was strong with only a hint of elderly quaver.

Joely looked up, surprised. Unconsciously, she'd buried her face in her hands and was pressing away the start of a headache behind her eyes. Grandma Sadie had taken a seat beside her and waited for a reply. Joely admired her beyond words, the serene matriarch with sadness but no regrets in her life, and she still had a little time to go before it was finished. With determination, Joely pushed the past away and shifted in her chair to pull out the envelope.

“This came. I don't want to tell the others yet. I'm always the bearer of bad news.”

Grandma Sadie took the envelope with its now-unruly sheaf of papers sticking haphazardly from the opening. “Tell me about this,” she said, as she pulled them out and unfolded them on the table.

“Tim is agreeing to the divorce but only to half of what I asked for. He says it's time for me to stop being unreasonable because I more than used up any share I had coming of the household income on my horse and all she cost over the years.” Joely's throat closed over the words, and tears welled in her eyes. Grandma put one mottled hand over hers.

“It's all right to grieve. It was a terrible thing to lose Penny in the accident.”

Bless her grandmother. She never used unhelpful platitudes.

“I'm sorry,” she said. “It should be a happy day.”

“It will be. I promise, honey. What else is in the letter? I can see in your eyes there's more.”

“He doesn't want me submitting for benefits any longer. Once he can cut me loose, he's planning to marry his girlfriend, so he's ready to put her on his insurance. As of three weeks from today, I will no longer have coverage.”

Grandma Sadie sat thoughtfully, her strong hand still covering Joely's. She patted softly with her fingers, and each tap sent a tiny dart of warmth through the skin. “Fortunately you will get new coverage,” she said. “But this will affect keeping your little apartment, I suppose. Oh dear, I'm sorry. That's what's upsetting, not Timothy. You know I think you're well rid of him, even though it's not pleasant.”

“You don't think I'm terrible? God isn't going to frown down on me for not trying harder with him?”

Her grandmother had the strongest belief system of anyone Joely had ever or would ever know. But for as staunch and forthright an old woman as she was, she had a gentle outlook on her faith. Joely craved the gentleness now.

“He doesn't like it when his children hurt, Joellen. This was not your choice. I never told you this, but I took it upon myself to write that boy a letter when you were first injured. I didn't mince any words with him.”