The Cowboy Rescues a Bride (Cowboys of Chance Creek) (24 page)

Read The Cowboy Rescues a Bride (Cowboys of Chance Creek) Online

Authors: Cora Seton

Tags: #Romance, #Cowboys

BOOK: The Cowboy Rescues a Bride (Cowboys of Chance Creek)
4.84Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

“Tomorrow?” Camila hesitated. “I have some ingredients I would need for that, but not everything—not the fresh ones.”

“Give me a list,” Luke said affably. “I’ll pick up what you need. You can either pay me back from your restaurant earnings, or when you get a new job.”

“You’d do that? Why?”

“Because that’s how we roll around here,” Mia said happily. “Everyone helping everyone else.” She slipped her cell phone out of her back pocket. “All right—let’s spread the word about this new development. Fila and Camila’s Restaurant. Huh, that’s kind of clunky.” She chewed her lip. “Famila’s. Families…”

“Familia! That means
family
in Spanish!” Camila’s face fell. “But it’s Fila’s restaurant—and you already have a sign. You should keep your name even if we do work together.”

“Fila’s Familia,” Mia suggested. “I like the sound of that.”

“I like it too,” Fila said. She did—she was beginning to feel like she had a family here in Chance Creek.

“Let’s get through the test run and make up our minds later.” Camila stood up. “I’d better get to work!”

“Me, too.” Fila couldn’t wait.


Chapter 28

“A
re you ready
to tell the whole world that you’re going to be Mrs. Ned Matheson?” Ned lay back in his bed and braced Fila in his new favorite position—her straddling his hips, him pressing inside her, urging her on to ecstasy.

“I didn’t know I was changing my name to Ned.” She laughed at his expression, then moaned when he surged inside her then drew almost all the way out. She squirmed on top of him, trying to press back down, but he held her in place.

“That’s Mrs. Ned.” He surged inside her with a swift stroke.

Her gasp left her unable to answer and he took advantage of the situation, thrusting into her again and again until her cries rang out through the cabin. He shouted his own release soon after, and it wasn’t until they lay entwined and panting that he took the subject up again.

“Are you ready to make our announcement?”

“Yes!” Her assurance brought a smile to his face. He couldn’t wait to tell everyone the news. He wanted to broadcast it to the world. Fila Sahar was marrying Ned Matheson. As soon as possible. In fact—

He pushed himself up on his elbows. “Let’s set the date.”

She trailed a hand down to caress him, seeming all too interested in going for another round. It was a good thing he’d broken his leg, Ned reflected happily. Otherwise his ranch chores might get in the way of their lovemaking. They’d have to make hay while the sun shone, so to speak, since his vacation was only temporary. As he stirred to life again below the belt he thought he could put up with that for now.

When Fila was ready to concentrate on other things some time later, he brought up setting the date again. “I think we should hold the wedding soon—before you open Fila’s for real. How about Valentine’s Day? That’s just under a month away and you’re still waiting on permits and inspections, anyway. By that time you’ll be just about ready to open. We’ll grab a quick honeymoon, come home and get back to work.”

She made a face. “I’d rather stay here in bed with you, but if I can’t, that sounds perfect.”

“I’ll let Mom and Dad know.”

“I’ll take care of telling everyone else.”

The dry run
was both chaotic and successful—more fun than Fila could possibly have imagined, with more accidents and upsets than she could have predicted, too. While they wanted all their guests to end up in the restaurant to celebrate together, they also wanted a chance to experience what it would be like with customers coming in at staggered times. Mia had come up with the idea of having several groups of people arrive in ten minute increments. All their guests came to the counter to place their orders like normal customers and Mia rang them up at the till, although they charged no money.

They recruited Hannah and Morgan to act as servers to bring the meals out to the guests and clear away unused dishes when they were done. They’d arranged the dishes into groupings, so their customers could try small portions of several menu items at a time. Fila and Camila raced around the kitchen responding to orders and cooking as fast as they could. Camila kept up a constant stream of chatter and exclamations in Spanish as she worked, which at first threw Fila off her stride, then made her laugh until she nearly cried when realized Camila was talking to her ingredients. She soon grew used to the noise and eventually blocked it out by humming the pop tunes she’d begun to memorize. Between Camila’s talking and her snatches of songs, the kitchen was a lively place.

After everyone had been seated and served, Fila and Camila took a break and came to the front to eat with the rest of the guests. Camila slid into an empty spot next to Lisa. Fila was surprised when Holt slid out of the same booth and made his way over to where she leaned against the counter.

“The only thing I can’t figure out is why you still eat the food your captors fed you. Why don’t you hate it as much as you hate them?”

Fila glanced down at her plate. It contained a strange mixture of Afghan and Mexican dishes. She held up a flatbread. “This isn’t Taliban food—it’s Afghan food. It’s my mother’s food. I grew up eating it before I was ever captured. To me it means love and tenderness, not hate and violence.”

“Taliban, Afghan—it’s all the same.”

She waved the bread. “No, it’s not. Not one bit. Afghan culture is over two thousand years old. And it’s a conservative culture—it’s had to be—but it’s not a culture of monsters. Afghans are people like you, Holt. They’re born, they grow up, they live and love and they die just like we do. I didn’t study much history before I was taken, but I know this much. America’s story is that of the frontier—of always having room to grow. Afghanistan’s story is that of occupation. By the Russians, the British, the Mongols—even the ancient Greeks. On and on for century after century. Imagine all those wars being fought in Montana. Foreign armies living among us, taking over your ranch, stealing everything you own, killing your wife and children, over and over and over again.” She paused to catch her breath. “Death is right around the corner for them—all the time. Is it any wonder that a movement that turns men into warriors and codes everything else into rigid rules might seem like the answer?” She still wasn’t sure if Holt was following her. What analogy would make sense to him? She wracked her brain. “If a bunch of Californians overran Chance Creek and forced everyone to eat tofu, would you refuse to ever eat steak again?”

He made a face. “Of course not!”

“Then imagine the Taliban are the Californians, forcing everyone to eat tofu. And everyone does it because they don’t know what else to do. They still love steak, but they will be severely punished if they eat it—so will their families. That’s what it’s like for many Afghans living under Taliban control. It’s not their choice. They still love their country. They still love their heritage. That doesn’t mean they love the group of extremists who have taken over.”

“Even if those Taliban people went away, they still wouldn’t be anything like you and me.” Holt crossed his arms.

Fila suppressed a smile at his inclusion of her. That was a step in the right direction even if the greater message was lost on him. “They’re more like you than you think. Defensive. Angry. Always on the lookout for trouble.”

Holt straightened. “I have four sons. Of course I’m on the lookout for trouble.”

“They have sons, too.” She waited to see if he understood.

Holt shook his head. “We’re going to see different on this one. But I understand about the food. Everyone likes their mother’s cooking best.” He surveyed her plate. “You got any more of that bread?”

She’d take that as a victory.

Ned tapped his
spoon against his glass and whistled for everyone’s attention. When the hubbub had died down and his father had made his way back to his table, he gestured for Fila to come join him. She placed her plate on top of the counter and threaded her way through the crowded room to stand near his chair as he pushed to his feet.

“I want to thank you for coming out and supporting Fila—and Camila—tonight.” He waited until the cheers and clapping died down. “This test run is a big occasion for several reasons. All of you who know Fila know she’s come a long way to reach Chance Creek, and an even longer way to cast off her past and embrace a new future.” The crowd grew boisterous again. Ned took advantage of the distraction to pull out a small box from his pocket and hold it up. His mother gasped.

“There’s another reason I wanted you all here tonight. A personal reason.” He leaned on his crutches while he opened the box. “I asked Fila the other day if she’d marry me. She said yes.” He waited a beat. “Maybe she’s changed her mind.” He turned to her. “What do you say? Still up for it?”

She nodded, her eyes bright with tears. Ned lifted her hand and slipped the ring on her finger.

“Good thing. ‘Cause I wasn’t going to let you get away.”

This time the clapping and shouting went on and on so long Ned thought it would never stop. Soon the cries coalesced into a single word. “Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!” He didn’t know who had started it and he didn’t care. He swept Fila into his arms, leaned her back and kissed her until neither of them could breathe. When they came up for air, Mia and Camila were circling the room with glasses and champagne. He wondered how they’d procured them, but a look at Luke told him all he needed to know. As usual, his brother’s gaze was latched onto Mia like a homing beacon. There’d be another match soon if he wasn’t mistaken.

His mother’s embrace wiped away all thoughts of Luke. “When is the wedding?” she cried when she finally let him and Fila go.

Ned raised his voice over the crowd again. “The wedding is Valentine’s Day! I hope you’ll all join us!”

“Valentine’s Day! That’s perfect!” Lisa hurried off again.

Ned bent down to kiss Fila. “You all right with all this?”

“More than all right. I can’t wait to make a life with you.”

“Damn, woman.” He drew her close again. “You’re already my life.”

 

The Cowboys of Chance Creek series continues with
The Cowboy Earns a Bride
.

Be the first to know about Cora Seton’s new releases!
Sign up for her Newsletter here
.

Other books in the
Cowboys of Chance Creek
series:

The Cowboy’s E-mail Order Bride (Volume 1)

The Cowboy Wins a Bride (Volume 2)

The Cowboy Imports a Bride (Volume 3)

The Cowgirl Ropes a Billionaire (Volume 4)

The Sheriff Catches a Bride (Volume 5)

The Cowboy Lassos a Bride (Volume 6)

The Cowboy Earns a Bride (Volume 8)

About the Author

Cora Seton loves cowboys, country life, gardening, bike-riding, and lazing around with a good book. Mother of four, wife to a computer programmer/eco-farmer, she ditched her California lifestyle eight years ago and moved to a remote logging town in northwestern British Columbia.

Like the characters in her novels, Cora enjoys old-fashioned pursuits and modern technology, spending mornings transforming a neglected one-acre lot into a paradise of orchards, berry bushes and market gardens, and afternoons writing the latest Chance Creek romance novel on her iPad mini. Visit
http://www.coraseton.com
to read about new releases, locate your favorite characters on the Chance Creek map, and learn about contests and other cool events!

Table of Contents

Title Page

Copyright Page

Author’s Note

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

About the Author

Other books

Blood of the Isles by Bryan Sykes
Circle of Stones by Catherine Fisher
White Stone Day by John MacLachlan Gray
The relentless revolution: a history of capitalism by Joyce Appleby, Joyce Oldham Appleby