The Wedding Crasher and the Cowboy Read online

  “Hi,” Kennedy said. At a quick glance, there were seven in all—including Maverick, who looked at her strangely. “I’m almost done.” She dropped the needle into a small sharps container, then bandaged the wound with clean dressing and Coban around Nova’s foot to keep the dressing in place. Dr. Choi gathered all the waste into a small red biohazard bag.

  Introductions were made as she and Doc got Nova to a standing position. Doc told her to keep off her foot for the rest of the day and he’d have a special shoe for her tomorrow when she came into his office for a tetanus shot. She hugged Kennedy in thanks, and then her brother Hunter, who could have been Maverick’s twin, scooped her up and walked away.

  “You’re an angel. Thank you,” Mrs. Owens said from beside her husband, who nodded in agreement. Similar appreciation came from Cole Owens and his wife, Bethany.

  Little Jenna, however, decided to ask a question. “My mommy says if I stick my finger up my nose, it will get stuck. Is that true?”

  “Jenna,” Bethany groaned as everyone else chuckled.

  Kennedy knelt down to her level. “Well, what your mom meant was germs that are on your fingers can get stuck in your nose and then you might get sick, and if that happens, you won’t be able to chase George around.”

  “That would be atrocious,” Jenna said with a straight face.

  “It would,” Kennedy agreed with a grin.

  Doc and the family dispersed after that, except for Maverick. He stood there quietly, staring at her like she’d sprouted wings to go along with his mom’s sweet remark.

  “Got something on your mind, cowboy?”

  “That was…nice work, Martin. Thanks for helping my sister.”

  “It’s what I love to do.”

  He nodded. “You’ve got”—he glanced down at her pants—“some stains on your clothes.”

  She looked at herself. Blood. Dirt. A smashed flower petal. So much for her nice white pants surviving the ranch, but that was okay. Getting dirty didn’t bother her. She’d had way worse sully her scrubs. “Yeah. I guess I won’t be wearing these again.” She lifted her gaze back to his.

  And the strangest thing happened. She’d swear his mind went right to the gutter and he was picturing her in her underwear. Which was ridiculous. They didn’t imagine each other like that. He probably had someplace to be and was mad he was running late now.

  Thinking about her clothes, she grumbled under her breath. She’d brought only a nightgown and one other outfit with her, assuming she and Andrew would drive home tomorrow. “You don’t by any chance know of a clothing store in town, do you?” she asked.

  “I know every store in town.”

  “Is there one that sells clothing?”

  “Yes.”

  Could he be any more exasperating? “Well, then how about you give me the name so I can go buy some clothes?”

  “Wildflower.”

  “Thanks. Oh, shoot. I’m sure Andrew already left and took the car. Is there a trolley or shuttle that goes into town? Not that I couldn’t walk, but it’s getting late in the day and I have a feeling I’ll be ready to collapse soon, so—”

  “I can take you.”

  “Really?” she asked, glaring right at him. “What’s the catch?”

  “No catch.”

  “With you, there’s always a catch.”

  “Or maybe I’ve evolved.”

  She pretended not to notice his extra emphasis. “Okay, then. Give me a minute to change?”

  “I’ll meet you in front of the inn in ten.”

  …

  Nine minutes later, because God forbid one of them be late, Maverick opened the passenger side door of his truck when she stepped onto the circular driveway. He’d changed his T-shirt from black to royal blue, and she caught a whiff of soap and man that momentarily had her wondering things about him she shouldn’t be wondering. Like what did he look like without his shirt on? What did he do at night once the sun went down? Did he live nearby? Did he live alone? Did he have a wife? A girlfriend?

  None of those things mattered.

  Only, as soon as he climbed into the driver’s seat beside her, she did her darnedest to notice if he wore a wedding ring. His fingers were all bare. Not that that meant he was unattached.

  “So, do you live on the ranch?” she asked.

  “I do.”

  “And are you the local veterinarian as well?”

  His hands tightened on the steering wheel. “I take it you’re an MD now,” he said in lieu of answering her.

  “Did my fine suturing skills give me away? Or was it Dr. Choi’s use of the name ‘Dr. Martin’?”

  “What field are you in?”

  “Emergency medicine. And you? I’m guessing big animals. That’s a specialty, isn’t it?”

  “It is.”

  “And that doesn’t answer my original question. Again.” She pulled her seat belt away from her body so she could turn to face him. Make him a little nervous with plenty of unwanted attention. He’d hated it in college when she stared at him in their lecture halls because she always won their silent contest when he looked away first.

  Out of the corner of her eye, she did note his truck was clean, on the newer side, and a smooth oval rock about three inches in diameter sat in the cup holder. A worry stone. What did Maverick stress about?

  “How long have you been practicing?” he asked.

  “How long have you?” She was almost certain their advanced education included the same number of years, but were vets required to do a residency, too?

  He pulled into a parking spot on Main Street and cut off the engine.

  At his silence, she kept going, genuinely interested in knowing more. “And what kind of practice do you do?” She may have disliked him in college, and wasn’t particularly fond of him now, but he’d always been intelligent and thoughtful and she didn’t begrudge him achieving his dream of being a veterinarian. She wished him well even if he’d been a thorn in her side.

  “I don’t. I didn’t finish vet school.”

  “Really?” This was hard to believe—he was such a go-getter in college. “How come?”

  “Long story.” He got out of the car and strode around the back of the truck, effectively blocking her view of him. It shouldn’t matter to her why he didn’t elaborate, but it did.

  She opened the car door and slid out, the skirt of her green sleeveless wraparound dress gaping slightly open at her knees. Her heels hit the curb with a dull thud.

  “I recommend a pair of closed-toe shoes while you’re here,” Maverick said, his gaze not on her feet but on her legs before his eyes jumped up to lock on hers.

  “That is one recommendation of yours I think I’ll take.”

  “The shop is on the corner.” He helped close her door, then led her down the street. A middle-aged couple walking toward them smiled warmly at Maverick. “Hi, Barb. Hi, Chris,” he said.

  “Hi, Maverick.” Barb’s gaze quickly zeroed in on Kennedy. “You must be Dr. Martin.” She stopped to give Kennedy a quick arm squeeze. “It’s so nice to meet you. Doc sang your praises.”

  “He did?” She glanced at Maverick.

  “Small town. News travels fast,” he said.

  “I better be on my best behavior, then,” she teased, and hoped the lies piling up didn’t come back to bite her in the ass.

  “You’re here for the week? For the Carson wedding?” Barb asked.

  “I am. Did Doc tell you that, too?”

  “No, that came from Mary Rose. I just got off the phone with her.” Mary Rose Owens: Maverick’s mom and apparent purveyor of wedding news. “Chris and I own the local vineyard and we’re supplying the wine for the reception. Of course your name came up.”

  Kennedy was about to ask why that was when Maverick said, “It was nice seeing you both. Have a good night.
” He took her elbow and practically dragged her away—no doubt he didn’t like news of her attending the wedding any more than she did.

  She opened her mouth to tell him to chill out when an older gentleman crossed their path and tipped his cowboy hat at them. “Hello, Maverick. Dr. Martin.”

  Was she in the Twilight Zone? Had she fallen asleep when she’d changed her clothes and this was a dream? Small town aside, she’d been in Windsong for all of three hours. “Hi,” she muttered.

  Maverick let go of her arm. “Hey, Uncle Tim, how are you?”

  Uncle? That explained it. And once again, Maverick didn’t seem the least bit surprised his uncle knew who she was.

  He did, however, let out a faint breath of annoyance. “Good. It’s nice to see you out with a pretty lady. Been a long time.”

  “It’s…not really like that,” Maverick asserted.

  This was too good an opportunity to pass up. Ruffle Maverick’s feathers? Yes, please. “It’s not? What would you call it, then?” she asked as she batted her eyelashes up at him.

  His brow wrinkled. “An escort.”

  She made sure to overplay her stunned expression, her mouth dropping so far open, it hurt her jaw. “I had no idea you charged for your services. Uncle Tim, did you know—”

  “That’s enough.”

  Maverick could reprimand her all day, but she wouldn’t stop until she was good and ready.

  “I mean, isn’t it customary to let a client know before you—”

  “Kennedy.” The way he said her name, like she had a tongue-lashing coming, made her giggle.

  Uncle Tim laughed, too. “You’ve got your hands full with this one. I’ll leave you both to it. See you later, Mav.”

  “Yeah.” Maverick put his hand on the small of her back and ushered her forward, most likely in hopes of getting her off the street as quickly as possible.

  “No more conversations for you,” he teased as the delicious smell of bread and chocolate wafted out of Baked on Main. “It’s bad enough my whole family now believes you’re here for the wedding.”

  “That is why I’m here.” She spun away from his too-close proximity and practically pressed her nose against the window to check out the inside of the bakery. A line of people stood at the counter. Her stomach growled.

  “No, you’re here for the groom.”

  “Potato, potahto.”

  “The shop’s this way, Shortcake.”

  “Or…” She stopped herself. She’d come back for something sweet another time. When she didn’t have the company of an impatient six-foot-something ranch owner and could enjoy herself.

  They walked into Wildflower, a catchall store with high wood-beam ceilings and aisles of different offerings. Besides clothes, she spotted everything from snacks to home goods to body lotions. She hurried over to the clothing area, thankfully losing Maverick along the way.

  She decided on several pieces she could wear on the ranch and at home: jeans, shorts, a few plain T-shirts, and two sundresses—one with wildflowers and the other a pretty plum color.

  She moseyed over to the shoe section and grabbed a pair of white tennis shoes and some black flip-flops. A package of socks and underwear completed the shopping spree.

  The sales girl at the counter chatted nonstop, asking where she was from, what brought her to town, and suggesting she buy a pair of boots, too. “I know just the pair,” she said, taking in Kennedy’s heels as they walked back to the shoes. “They’ll look great with everything. Size six, right?”

  “Right.” The brown boots with a classic cowboy heel were embroidered with a white floral design and decorative braided boot straps. The leather construction made for a sensible choice, and the embroidery made them feminine. She couldn’t recall ever owning a pair of cowboy boots, plus they were comfortable, so she splurged and added them to her purchases. When in Rome.

  Bags in hand, Kennedy pushed open the glass front door with her hip to exit. Maverick hadn’t reappeared since they entered, so she figured he’d left, his duty to get her to the store complete. She’d find a ride back to the inn somehow or just walk. Or maybe track down Andrew at Sutter’s.

  To her surprise, though, Maverick stood waiting for her outside the store, leaning against the building, one leg crossed over the other like he didn’t have a care in the world. “Looks like a success.”

  “It was. But you didn’t have to wait for me.”

  “A gentleman never leaves a lady without a safe ride home.”

  She looked around for said gentleman. He didn’t seem fazed by her obvious confusion to his statement. Instead, he took the bags out of her hands, proving he was every bit the gentleman he claimed to be.

  “I can…” It was no use; he had the packages and turned to walk back to his truck. “Do you have somewhere to be?” she asked, having to quicken her steps double-time to keep up with him.

  “Yes.”

  “Home to your wife?”

  He looked sideways at her. “Funny question coming from someone who thirty minutes ago accused me of being a paid companion.”

  She waved off her previous teasing. “It’s a legitimate question anyone would ask.”

  He opened the rear passenger door of his truck and placed her bags on the seat.

  “So no wife,” she stated, climbing into her seat. “And I’m betting no girlfriend, either.” Was she trying to get his goat? Yes. Yes she was.

  It didn’t work. He situated himself in the driver’s seat and casually said, “You’re awfully interested in my personal life.”

  She shrugged. “Only trying to figure out who I’m dealing with.”

  “Just a guy who doesn’t want you hurting his family or the ranch’s reputation. In less than a day, you’ve got everyone interested in you.”

  “This will either be the greatest crash of all time or the worst.”

  Maverick frowned and pulled away from the curb.

  “But I sincerely promise my intentions are good. I would never do anything to upset your family.” Not on purpose, anyway.

  At the corner stop sign, he gave her a withering look. Maintained it. She couldn’t hold his gaze, a terrible feeling of guilt overtaking her sincerity.

  “You have nothing else to say?” Kennedy asked, moving her attention to the road ahead.

  “Nothing you’d want to hear.”

  She crossed her arms over her chest and silently stewed. He didn’t know her or anything about her relationship with Reed. Wedding crashing wasn’t a crime. (She didn’t think.) Neither was helping a friend in need. Maverick Owens could keep his thoughts to himself all night long for all she cared.

  He pressed a button, and her window rolled down. The setting sun cast broad strokes of orange and yellow across the sky. A cool breeze rustled her hair.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Thought you might need some air.”

  “How nice of you,” she said, over-the-top sweetly. She refused to let him get the best of her. “It is a beautiful night,” she added out the window, changing her disposition with one beat of her heart.

  The minute they pulled up to the inn, she hurried out of his truck. He was faster, though, and grabbed her bags to hand to her, his biceps noticeably muscled.

  “Thanks,” she said, aware of his arms only because she was a doctor and the body happened to be her specialty.

  And he did what he often did best. Stayed inexplicably silent as she turned to walk away.

  Chapter Six

  Five days until the wedding

  Maverick took a minute to enjoy the early morning fog rolling over the mountain. This time of day, before everyone else had woken, always filled him with a deep sense of calm. Just him and the land, making peace with yesterday and forging ahead with today. By midmorning, blue sky for miles would guide his way through the trees he had to inspect.r />
  “You gonna stand there all morning lollygagging or get your ass in gear?” Hunter called out.

  Maverick turned in surprise. Hunt rarely appeared on time on Monday mornings, so something had to be up. He closed the gap between them and met his brother at the barn door, taking one of the buckets full of grain from his hands. “You okay?” Maverick asked.

  “Yep. You?”

  “Yep.”

  Okay, then. Maverick might be unsettled by a brown-eyed, blond doctor with freckles across her nose, but he could live with it indefinitely. His brother, on the other hand, would most likely talk about what was on his mind by this afternoon. Until then, they got to work feeding the horses, then George. The chickens, goats Molly and Mo, and Bessie the cow were next. The ranch had long ago given up cattle, and they kept only a handful of animals now. It could be argued they were farmers more than ranchers, but no one cared about the difference.

  Done with the feedings, they hightailed it to the inn for breakfast, entering the expanded kitchen through the back door. The family gathered every Monday morning for a hardy breakfast, per Mom’s order. Mary Rose Owens liked to start the week with her loved ones, so that’s what they did. Today would be a quick one, given that later this morning they had a welcome brunch scheduled for the wedding guests.

  “Morning,” he and Hunter said at the same time.

  “Smells good in here,” Hunt added, kissing their mom’s check. He was a total mama’s boy.

  Their dad, John, sat at the head of the table next to Cole. Bethany and Jenna were next to him. “Where’s Nova?” Maverick asked. “She okay?”

  “She’s fine,” Mom said. “She’s staying off her foot as promised. I’ll take her something after we’re through, then Dad will drive her into town to see Doc this afternoon.”

  The whole family lived on the ranch. The inn, along with two other buildings—The Cottage and Pine House—included a total of twenty-two rooms for guests. But beyond the immediate grounds, down a private dirt road, were their residences. A restored house dating back to the early 1900s for Mom and Dad. Cole, Bethany, and Jenna had a newer home near the lake. Nova lived in their guesthouse. Hunter made himself comfortable in the old bunkhouse, remodeling it in his spare time. And Maverick had his own cabin, set the farthest away from the inn, at the base of a hillside.