Her Cowboy Groom. Trish Milburn
flag in front of a woman already in a foul mood.
When the trunk latch disengaged, he opened the lid and found the spare tire, one of those little donut deals. “Hate to tell you this, but your spare is as flat as a pancake, too.”
“Of course it is.” Linnea bit her lip and lifted her gaze to the darkened sky just as the raindrops picked up their pace.
He closed the trunk. “Come on. I’ll give you a ride to Chloe’s. We’ll get your tires fixed in the morning.”
“I...I was actually going to your house.”
He looked at her, growing more confused by the moment.
“I’m sorry,” she said as she shook her head. “I should have called her back. She offered me the extra room for a few days, but I see she didn’t tell you all about it. If you could give me a ride into town, I’ll get a room at the inn.”
When had his house become his sister’s bed-and-breakfast? Although he had to admit Linnea was a lot nicer to look at than the last guest they’d had. Not that Wyatt wasn’t a decent-enough-looking guy, but he was a guy. They already had enough testosterone and stinky socks around without adding more.
“Don’t be silly,” he said. “Come on before you get soaked.”
Linnea hesitated before opening the back door and grabbing a couple of bags and her purse. As she started toward him, he saw her wince when she put weight on her twisted ankle. He’d never liked seeing a woman in pain, so he stepped up beside her and wrapped his arm around her waist, taking some of her weight.
She stiffened for a moment before allowing her muscles to relax a little. “Thanks.”
“No thanks necessary. Rescuing damsels in distress, it’s what I do.”
He expected a laugh, a smile, something. But when she offered none of those, he realized this was not the same Linnea who’d been texting Chloe pictures of wedding stuff for months. Someone who was as happy as Linnea supposedly was about her upcoming marriage didn’t look as if someone had run over her dog and then laughed about it. But it wasn’t his business. Female drama was Chloe’s department.
As the rain picked up its pace, he ushered her toward the driver’s-side door of his truck. “It’ll be easier for you to get in over here. Can’t have you toppling into the ditch.”
She made an attempt to smile at him this time, but damned if it didn’t look shaky and as if she might dissolve into tears at any moment. Oh, hell. He so didn’t do tears. He had to get to the ranch and hand her off to his sister. As she slid across the truck to the passenger side, he sent a quick text to Chloe to get her butt over to his house because he’d just picked up her best friend on the side of the road.
By the time they reached the house, the rain was coming down in slanting sheets. He parked but didn’t get out of the truck. Part of him wanted to curse that he hadn’t taken Tiffany up on her offer. A woman who had a night of naughtiness on her mind—that he could deal with. Sitting in a truck with a woman who looked on the verge of tears as the heavens unloaded on them? Not so much.
His phone buzzed with a text from his sister. “Chloe says she’ll be here as soon as the rain lets up.”
“She doesn’t have to get out in this.” Linnea shook her head. “I should have just stayed at home.”
Yeah, something was definitely wrong in happily-ever-after land. Knowing he was going to kick himself for asking, he did anyway. “What’s wrong?”
He thought she wasn’t going to answer at first, but then she took a shaky breath. “I’m not getting married after all.”
Oh, hell, why had he opened his big mouth?
Linnea shifted her gaze out the window, through the stream of water running down the other side of the glass. “Turns out I was engaged to someone who was already married.”
He cursed, couldn’t help it. He searched for the appropriate thing to say, but came up empty save for a weak “Sorry.”
“Me, too.”
Part of him was curious, but he wasn’t digging himself deeper into this emotional hole. Instead, he hopped out into the rain that had slackened a fraction and hurried around to her side of the truck. He opened the door and helped her out and hurried with her to the porch. He made sure she was safely up the steps before he ran back to the truck for her bags.
When he reached the porch, he found her standing there waiting for him, her arms wrapped around her wet body, her hair dripping. Despite the fact that it was early September in Texas, he had the strongest urge to wrap her in a blanket to make sure she didn’t catch a chill.
Reminding himself that Linnea was a grown woman and perfectly capable of taking care of herself, flat tires notwithstanding, he opened the door and motioned for her to precede him inside.
It wasn’t until he followed her that he realized he should have gone first. Luckily, his dad and Garrett were kicked back watching TV, but one of them could just as easily have been strolling through the living room in his underwear. He didn’t think Linnea needed to be assaulted with that image, even if she hadn’t just had the worst day ever.
“Linnea?” Wayne Brody got to his feet. Before he could say anything else, Owen shook his head a little where Linnea couldn’t see him. He saw acknowledgment in his dad’s eyes before his dad crossed the living room and gave Linnea a hug. “It’s good to see you.”
Linnea pulled out of his arms. “I’ll get you all wet.”
His dad laughed. “Honey, I don’t think a few raindrops are going to do me in.”
Owen lifted Linnea’s bag a little higher. “You want to change into something dry?”
Linnea met his eyes for a moment, then nodded. “Thanks.” She took the bag and headed for Chloe’s old room.
No one said anything until the door clicked closed.
“What’s going on?” Garrett asked from where he’d sunk onto the arm of the couch.
Owen kept his voice low so Linnea wouldn’t hear. “Chloe told Linnea she could stay here for a few days, but they got their wires crossed somehow. I found Linnea on the side of the road with a flat tire.”
“Why would she want to stay here?” his dad asked. “She and Chloe got wedding stuff to do or something?”
Owen glanced toward the hallway to make sure Linnea was still in the bedroom. “She said the wedding is off.”
“Off?”
Owen shrugged. “That’s what she said.”
“And Chloe thought the best place for her was here?” Garrett asked.
“I guess ’cause there’s an extra bedroom here. At Chloe’s she’d have to sleep on the couch.”
“And have to see happy newlyweds, the last thing she probably wants to see right now,” Wayne said.
So maybe Linnea staying in the extra room here did make more sense. A heads-up would have been nice, though.
After Owen went to change out of his own wet clothes, he noticed that Linnea hadn’t come out of the bedroom. Had she fallen asleep? Or was she just hiding? He had no idea what to do, if he was supposed to do anything. Maybe the best thing was to just leave her alone, let Chloe take care of things when she got here. But from the sound of the rain, that might be a while.
The living room sat empty when he walked back in. He found his dad in the kitchen pulling a bowl of hot chili out of the microwave. Beyond him in the utility room, Garrett was shoving a load of dirty clothes into the washing machine.
“Here, take this to Linnea,” Wayne said as he added a sleeve of crackers and a spoon to the wooden tray, part of a set Chloe had gotten them last Christmas for when they ate in front of the TV during football