His Montana Bride. Brenda Minton
to Seattle for a short time. It hadn’t worked out was the only answer given when asked why Faith hadn’t stayed.
“Do you attend church, Katie?” Faith asked as she poured herself a cup of coffee. She was dressed in a cute denim-and-lace dress, turquoise-and-brown cowboy boots and a scarf around her neck.
Katie looked over the top of her cup. Did she attend church? She hadn’t been raised in church, but last year a friend, seeing that Katie was a train wreck about to happen, had shared faith with her and invited her to spend a few weekends in the small town where she lived so that Katie could attend church. She’d gone and she’d found something that filled a huge void in her life that she’d been trying to fill with relationships. Going-nowhere relationships.
“I’d love to go to church,” she finally answered. “If that’s okay.”
“Of course it is,” Julie gave her a careful look. “Do you go to church in Missoula?”
Katie shook her head. “Not usually. I just haven’t known where to go.”
Or how to walk in alone. She definitely wouldn’t have the alone problem today, not with this group of people.
Faith walked up behind her, giving her a tight hug and taking her by surprise. “You’ll love our little mountain church. Well, it isn’t little. I guess it must have been at one time, but it’s been built on to.”
“Is everyone about ready to head for church? Those who are going?” Jackson Shaw walked into the kitchen, taking up more space than a man should. His very presence commanded respect, Katie thought. And he made her shake in her shoes, just a little.
“Katie’s going,” Julie offered. “And I think Michael and Helen. Oh, and Thomas and Mandy plus her sister, Beth.”
She pointed to one of the couples that would be getting married at the end of the month. Another couple entered the room, along with the sister of the bride. Beth. Katie had met Beth the previous evening. She was a pretty brunette, petite with big brown eyes. Katie felt like a giant in comparison.
“No need taking half a dozen cars.” Jackson looked around the room, his lips moving as he counted. “We’ll take the Suburban and if Cord shows up, someone can ride with him.”
“Cord doesn’t usually go to church,” Julie shared in a whisper for Katie only.
Cord didn’t attend church? That piece of the puzzle didn’t fit. It was like putting a corner piece in the middle and trying to make it work. He was a Shaw from Jasper Gulch. It seemed to her that church and faith would be part of his DNA.
Before she could comment, there were footsteps and Cord’s voice coming from the direction of the living room. His voice was low and husky as he spoke to someone. The dog, his mother’s poodle, barked. He told the dog to be quiet. When he entered the room, carrying the poodle and talking to his mom, Katie had a moment. She told herself it wasn’t one of those moments, the kind when you see a guy and something amazing happens. It was a moment that was sweet and undefined but precious. Cord Shaw seemed like a good, decent man.
He was also a man in his mid-thirties who had never married. There had to be a reason for that.
Twice bitten kept coming back to her. Who had said that about Cord Shaw? Did that mean he’d been married twice, or rejected twice?
It didn’t matter. Her attention drifted to take in his appearance, even though she said she didn’t care. If his father filled up space, Cord Shaw took the oxygen. He was dressed in jeans, boots and a button-down shirt. But no hat. His dark wavy hair caught her attention because it looked as if he’d brushed it with his fingers. As if he’d read her mind, he brushed a hand across the top of his head, pushing the wayward strands into some type of order.
“Why’s everyone looking at me?” Cord glanced around. On second look she realized he wasn’t dressed for church. His jeans were faded, his shirt was flannel and his boots were worn.
He glanced at his dad and neither of them smiled.
Family dynamics and more of the tension she’d felt the previous evening.
“We’re filling up the Suburban to go to church and I think we have too many people.” As Jackson spoke, Cord started backing up. Jackson glanced around the crowd and without saying anything, his sharp gaze landed on the very pretty Beth. Then his gaze shifted to Katie.
Cord followed his dad’s look and he shook his head. “I wasn’t going to church.”
“Well, it sure would make things easier if you would.” Jackson didn’t bother hinting.
Cord didn’t look like a man who cared what anyone thought or expected from him. As the family scattered, grabbing jackets and purses, Katie turned to follow.
“Fine, I’ll go. Katie, looks like you’re riding with me.”
She turned, her mouth open. And what was she supposed to say to something that hadn’t been a question and didn’t even sound as if it was what the man wanted? She got it, she was the easiest choice. Beth had that look, the kind that said she was searching for romance, for her own walk down the aisle. Katie was used to the role of friend.
“Excuse me?” she blurted out, shifting her purse over her shoulder.
“Beth would probably prefer to ride with her sister,” Cord said with a shrug that said he’d made a logical choice.
“Yes, of course.” Katie looked around the room seeking an ally. Everyone seemed to be content with the plan. Everyone but Beth, who cast a jealous look at her as she left with her sister. Julie, whom Katie thought might be a friend, just smiled and hurried out of the room.
“I’m really sorry,” Katie offered as she walked out the front door with Cord.
He smiled at her. “Katie, if you want to go to church, you should go. And if I have to go, I prefer taking someone I can at least have a conversation with.”
“Thank you.” She didn’t know if it was the correct response, but what else could she say? Once again she’d been put in a box, the one labeled Friend. She told herself she was good with that. After all, she’d been a new-and-improved Katie for the past year. No more chasing after love. No more insecurity. Friend was safe. She wanted safe.
* * *
Cord had to count to ten as he walked around the front of his truck to the driver’s-side door. He didn’t know exactly how his perfect fishing day had turned into a date, or was it church, with Katie? But here he was climbing in his truck and heading for the main road and church. With Katie at his side.
Once again his dad was the one to thank.
In the seat next to him, Katie toyed with her purse, fiddled with the necklace hanging around her neck and then watched out the window as the scenery passed them by. Did she see what he saw? That it was a perfect morning for fishing? The air was brisk and smelled of drying leaves and pine. There were a few white clouds chasing each other across a perfect azure sky. They wouldn’t have many more mornings like this.
Well, maybe God would appreciate his sacrifice and bless him with some decent trout. Not that God worked that way. He wasn’t so far gone that he didn’t still believe, still pray, still take time for the Almighty. He just had a few issues to work out.
“I’m sorry,” Katie finally said. Her voice was clear, bright, sweet.
Strong.
He had the overwhelming impression of strength when he looked at Katie. But there was more to her than that, there was something in her expression, something a little lost about her.
“Why are you sorry?” He glanced her way and then refocused on the road.
“That you’ve been stuck with me again.”
“I’m sorry if I made you feel that way. I’m going to be honest with you, I’d feel stuck no matter who they put in my truck. I think my dad put me in charge of this