Shotgun Bride. B.J. Daniels

Shotgun Bride - B.J. Daniels


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He’d only been around Kate at the wedding, but there was something about her that had made him suspicious, even before she talked their father into selling his place in Texas and moving to this isolated part of Montana to buy back her family’s home ranch.

      Kate was a woman with secrets. Shane had been a lawman for too long not to recognize it. Kate was hiding something. Something big. And Shane feared that when the truth came out, Grayson Corbett would be devastated.

      “I’ll have you know that I’ve already found the perfect woman,” Jud announced. “Her name is Maddie Cavanaugh. She’s exactly what mother said she wanted for us—a Montana girl.”

      The rest of them laughed, but Shane watched his little brother, thinking he might actually be telling the truth. Jud did attract women the way magnets attracted tacks. And Jud had been in town for over a week now.

      “Dad and Kate are going to love Maddie,” Jud said with a grin. “I predict wedding bells in the very near future.”

      Shane got to his feet. He couldn’t take any more of this. “Have you all lost your minds? Who gives a damn what’s in some stupid letter? Our mother didn’t live long enough to know any of us well enough to determine what kind of woman we should marry. Why should we let her tell us how to live our lives from the grave?” He shook his head.

      JERILYN DROVE as far as she could. She’d been running on fear and large doses of caffeine. Now after fifteen hours at the wheel her nerves were fried and she had the jitters so bad she was forced to stop for what was left of the night.

      She pulled over beside a park in some small town and climbed into the back of the car to sleep, telling herself that she’d put enough miles between her and Earl Ray. There was no way he could find her, especially without a car and without knowing which direction she was headed. She’d never told him about the daughter she’d been forced to give up at sixteen. She’d never told anyone.

      And she was sure he hadn’t called the cops. No, Earl Ray would call some of his low-life buddies and probably get drunk. That was his answer to everything.

      It was when he sobered up that she would have to worry. Then he’d be hungover and furious. But why come looking for her at all? He could just pick up another down-on-her-luck woman at any bar. Those were the only kind of women who put up with Earl Ray.

      Her stomach growled, but with gas being so expensive, she had gone without food. In the morning, though, she’d have to get something to eat. She had to take care of herself if she hoped to get to Montana.

      As she curled up to sleep, she thought about her little baby girl. Jerilyn tried to picture what Maddie would look like now and hoped her daughter had blond hair and blue eyes just like her real mama.

      Jerilyn wished she could get some new clothes before she met her and maybe even buy her daughter a gift. Flowers, maybe, or chocolates.

      Her stomach growled again, and she tried to sleep, but every little sound startled her. Finally sometime before dawn, Jerilyn fell into a deep sleep and dreamed about her reunion with her daughter.

      GRAYSON CORBETT stood at the window watching his wife. His wife. He smiled at the thought. Falling in love had come as a surprise.

      He’d never thought there would be anyone but Rebecca. In all those years since her death, he never met a woman who stirred his heart or tempted him to remarry.

      Until Kate.

      She’d come into his life so late. That was his only regret. At fifty-five, he hated that he wouldn’t have an entire lifetime with her. But if Rebecca had taught him anything, it was not to count on more than this moment in time.

      He and Rebecca had married young and started a family right away. They’d both wanted lots of kids, but Grayson lost the love of his life right after the twins were born.

      He’d never expected to love again.

      As he studied Kate’s slim back now, he ached at the sight of the way she hugged herself as she looked out across the land—her family’s land.

      He’d hoped getting her family ranch back would take away that haunted look he’d sometimes glimpsed in her eyes.

      But there was more to her sadness than the loss of mere land. Something powerful had a hold on her. Whatever it was, Kate kept it to herself.

      Grayson hoped he could gain her trust and that she would open up to him. So far that hadn’t happened.

      “Dad?”

      Grayson turned to find his youngest son standing in the doorway. He motioned Jud in, smiling in spite of himself. Having his sons all under the same roof again, even for a short period of time, brought him more joy than they could imagine.

      “I thought you’d want to know we talked and came to a decision,” Jud said.

      Grayson held his breath, worried that his foolish plan hadn’t worked. He was torn between guilt and hope.

      “We drew straws,” Jud said.

      So like his sons. He smiled. “Straws, huh? How did you come out?”

      Jud shook his head, grinning. “Wouldn’t you know it? I got the shortest.”

      “What do you plan to do?”

      “What choice do I have?”

      Grayson hated forcing his sons into this, but if he hoped to live long enough to see grandchildren, what choice did he have?

      “Think of it as a nudge,” he’d told Kate when he’d revealed his plan to her after finding the letter.

      “Oh, Grayson,” she’d said, looking worried. “Are you sure about this?”

      Hell, no. But he knew his sons too well. Threats and bribes wouldn’t have worked. All five sons were successful, and telling them they’d lose their inheritance if they didn’t marry wouldn’t work. Making an old-man’s plea to them wouldn’t have worked, either.

      He’d raised strong-willed, highly independent men. They were all more like him than Rebecca.

      It wasn’t until he found the letters Rebecca had left to be given to each son on his wedding day that Grayson seized on the idea. For years, he hadn’t touched anything of Rebecca’s. Not until the move to Montana. He’d been shocked to find the letters—and grateful. Rebecca, even from the grave, had helped him decide what to do about their wild, incorrigible sons.

      Along with a letter to each of the boys, Rebecca had left him a letter, as well. In it, her dying wish had been that the boys marry before the age of thirty-five. She half jokingly had said she hoped that they would marry a Montana cowgirl—just as their father had.

      “Don’t look so guilty,” Kate said when he’d told her he’d called the boys to Montana for a family meeting. “You only want the best for your sons.”

      Grayson hadn’t been so sure. He’d felt as if he was being selfish by using Rebecca’s dying wish.

      “Honey,” Kate had said. “Your boys are like you, strong—stubborn and independent to a fault.”

      He knew she was right. The boys had grown up without a mother and in a house without a woman’s touch. They’d seen him live for years without the love of a good woman and with everything on his own terms.

      But since he’d fallen for Kate, he’d come to realize how important love and marriage were for a man. He wanted the same for his sons, and he wanted his sons to settle in Montana, close enough that they could be a family again.

      “How are they taking all of this?” Grayson asked his son.

      Jud laughed. “As expected.”

      He laughed, as well. “I can just imagine.” Russell would take command as the oldest. Lantry would look for a loophole. Shane would rebel. Dalton would try to charm his way out of it. And Jud…

      Grayson studied his youngest


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