My Baby, My Bride

“Damn it,” he muttered. His heart was breaking. To be ousted from the town he loved, snubbed by people he spent his days helping…

What had gone so wrong between he and Liberty? One second he’d had her at the altar, the next, she’d disappeared. He should be angry, but all he did was love her more. Her wild side appealed to him.

And damn it, that’s exactly what he was going to tell her. He was going to walk into the Tulips Saloon like the sheriff he was—this time he’d even gently ease open the doors instead of tossing them back—and he’d politely ask for his dog. That’s what he’d do.

It wouldn’t work, he realized, because Mr. Parsons was in there and she probably wouldn’t even leave the old man’s side.

Okay, so he’d cruise over there and just act as if he hadn’t known there was a party. It wasn’t Ladies Only Day so he had every right, he assured himself righteously while taking a swig of whiskey in some cold coffee for courage.

Gathering up his bravado, which had been shamelessly stomped lately, he strode across the street. With good manners and a somewhat trembling heart, he calmly opened the doors with a smile that he hoped would convey I’m harmless, aren’t we friends?

Silence enveloped the room. The smile slipped from his face as he saw the rangy cowboy sitting next to Liberty. Hesitating—remembering to keep a lid on his temper—his gaze suddenly riveted to the beautiful cake Liberty was about to cut.

The cake was festooned with a tier of pastel pink-and-blue ribbons, and a silver baby rattle lay beneath it like a shiny announcement of a beautiful, miraculous future.

His eyes met Liberty’s with horror and heartbreak, and in her eyes he read the truth: Liberty Wentworth was welcoming a baby into her life. That was the real reason she’d returned to Tulips.

What a faithless would-be-bride she’d turned out to be.

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