Hometown Wedding

“So you haven’t seen her since last fall?”

“Nope.” Travis stretched his long legs, crossing his worn cowboy boots at the ankles. “And I’m getting pretty anxious. She’s a special little lady. Gets good grades, plays the flute like an angel. And she likes camping and fishing almost as much as her old dad does. We’re going to have a great time this summer, just—”

He broke off as the PA blared, announcing an arrival at gate B-16. “Hey! That’s Nicole’s flight! Come on, I’ll introduce you!”

“I really don’t think…” Eden began. But he was already out of earshot, charging down the concourse toward the swarm of deplaning passengers.

Eden hesitated. Then, resolving not to follow him, she stood up, slung her heavy briefcase over one shoulder and strode in the opposite direction, toward the escalator that led down to the baggage-claim area. It was time for a fast exit. An extra couple of hours on a bus were nothing compared to what she could get herself into by sticking around.

Except…She paused, torn by curiosity. After the way Travis had rhapsodized about his little girl, it might be interesting to see what she looked like. It would be an intriguing challenge, Eden mused, to try to pick Travis’s daughter out of a crowd. Afterward, it would still be easy enough to slip away and catch a taxi for the Greyhound depot.

Impulsively she turned around and strolled back along the far side of the concourse to an unobtrusive spot that gave her a view of the gate. She could see Travis, pine-tall, straining forward as the passengers filed out of the jetway. Clearly he was still watching for his daughter.

Settling back against the wall, Eden began to play her game, assessing each female passenger who emerged through the gate. A young woman with a baby—no. A chic fiftyish matron in a designer suit—certainly not. A pubescent child-woman in sunglasses, skintight hip huggers and a formfitting crop top—hardly! A pretty, young—yes, of course! The studious-looking girl carrying a flute case, her chestnut curls tied back with a ribbon. No doubt about it. That was Nicole.

Eden glanced over at Travis. He was standing stock-still, looking as if he’d just been poleaxed.

“Nicole!” He rasped out the name as the young girl with the flute case passed him without a glance.

“Nicole, over here!”

A squeal of delight exploded from the nymphet in the skintight jeans.

“Daddy!” she warbled, hurling herself into Travis’s arms with a force that nearly bowled him over. “Oh, Daddy! You can’t imagine how much I’ve missed you!”

Chapter Two

“You’ve, uh, gotten taller.” Still dazed, Travis braced his daughter at arm’s length. His gaze took in the outsize sunglasses, the boyishly cropped hair, the white knit top that ended at mid-rib cage and was snug enough to show off her—

But never mind. There was no place below Nicole’s tanned shoulders where Travis could comfortably rest his eyes.

“Aren’t you glad to see me?” Her tentative smile was as flawless as a string of pearls. She’d gotten her braces off, he realized. And no one had even told him about it.

“‘Glad’ isn’t the word for it, sweetheart. I’m just, uh, a little startled, that’s all. You’re not my little girl anymore. You’re growing up. That’s going to take some getting used to.”

“All little girls grow up.” She shifted her tote bag and linked an arm through his. “You wouldn’t want me to be a kid forever, would you?”

“I don’t know. It was pretty nice while it lasted.” Travis adjusted his long strides to her smaller ones, wishing he had a blanket to fling around her nubile, exposed body. Very soon he would have to take her to task about that outfit—or lack of outfit. But not just yet. Not in their first precious minutes together.

“Hungry?” he asked her. “We could stop for burgers on our way out of town.”

She shook her head like a saucy little bird. “I macked a sandwich on the plane. But I’ve got to run to the john.” She handed him the claim check she’d fished out of her tote bag. “You go ahead and grab my stuff off the carousel. I’ll catch up in a sec.”

Brushing a kiss on his cheek, she released his arm and scampered into the crowd. A balding bearded male in a Budweiser T-shirt moved aside to let her pass. His eyes flicked over her body with an expression so lustful that it was all Travis could do to keep from hurling himself at the man and inflicting major damage. No, the issue of Nicole’s costume could not wait a minute longer.

“Nicole!”

She glanced demurely back over her shoulder.

“Don’t you have a sweatshirt or something in that bag? You need to put some clothes on.”

She stared at him as if he’d just time-warped from the 1800s. “Oh, Daddy, don’t be a nerd! It’s the middle of June! It’s summer, and these are my clothes!”

“Now, look, young lady…” Travis’s words evaporated like spit on a hot sidewalk as Nicole flashed into the King’s-X zone of the women’s rest room. He stood there fuming as he struggled to come to terms with the past two minutes of his life.

In college he had sat through classes in adolescent psychology and read more books on the subject than he cared to remember. In the early years, when he’d taught high-school math to support the ranch, he’d seen scores of young girls pass into womanhood. He certainly understood that females in their teens could be difficult.

But nothing had prepared him for the emotional bronco ride of dealing with his own daughter.

Jamming his Stetson onto his head, he turned and strode up the concourse, headed for the escalator and the baggage-claim area. One thing was certain. Miss Nicole Conroy was overdue for an attitude adjustment. Once they got safely home, setting her straight would be the first priority on his list.

The ride south, which he’d been looking forward to all day, suddenly loomed as a three-hour battle with a headstrong teenager. Maybe it wouldn’t be a bad idea, after all, to shanghai Eden Harper for the duration. At least, with Eden along, there’d be someone to serve as a buffer between—

Eden.

Travis swore under his breath as he realized the woman was nowhere in sight.

Halting in midstride, he turned around and scanned the length of the concourse. No Eden.

Maybe she’d already carried out her plan to take a cab to the bus station. Fine and dandy, Travis groused, growing more irritated by the minute. What had he expected? That she’d be waiting for him to grab her by the hair and drag her to the truck?

Loping back to the escalator, he caught a step for the downward ride. Below him, the baggage-claim enclosure bustled with activity as suitcases, duffels and boxes spun off the conveyors. Travis fumbled for Nicole’s claim check. Glancing out over the carousels, he suddenly caught sight of Eden’s sugar-blond head. She was at the far end of the floor, fidgeting impatiently with her briefcase as she waited for her bags. Probably anxious to make her getaway. Well, fine. He certainly had no right to stop her.

As the escalator glided downward, he conjured up an image of Eden waiting in the dingy bus station, then sitting up in a cramped seat next to some snoring matriarch while the bus made stops at Ephriam, at Manti, at Axtell, at Gunnison, at Centerfield…What the hell, it was her choice. Let her go.

As he stepped off the escalator, a glance in Eden’s direction told him she had spotted her luggage. She was moving toward the carousel, shifting her briefcase to her shoulder to free her hands. Don’t borrow more trouble, Travis’s brain cautioned. But his legs weren’t listening. Unbidden, they were moving fast, covering the floor in long loping strides that carried him to her side.

“Here!” he exclaimed, reaching in front of her for one of the matching charcoal gray suitcases. “At least let me haul these to the curb for you.”

Dismay flickered in Eden’s eyes, and Travis instantly wished he’d kept his distance. “Look,” he said, “I’m not planning to talk you out of taking the bus. In fact, it’s probably just as well that you don’t ride home with me.”

“I just don’t want to cause any more trouble—for either of us.” Her voice was frayed, like tightly strained silk. Its raw sexiness was a burr that irritated Travis to the snapping point.

“Fine, then. At least we understand—”

The words ended in a croak as he glanced up and saw Nicole coming down the escalator. She had taken off her sunglasses, and as she glided downward, her dark eyes twinkled impishly up at a blond, husky young man in a Utah State University T-shirt who shared the same step.

Travis battled the urge to grind his teeth. Nicole was saying something now, and the young hulk was grinning down at her—no, drooling was more like it. And he was no puppy, either. He looked to be at least nineteen, too damned old to be flirting with a fourteen-year-old child.

“Travis, are you all right?” Eden’s voice pricked the edge of his awareness. He turned on her in sudden desperation.

“Ride with us,” he rasped. “I’m not inviting you, Eden, I’m begging you. Otherwise, before we get home, I’m liable to strangle the little twit.”

“Daddy!” Nicole had spun off the bottom of the escalator, and, with a breezy wave to the hulk, came bouncing toward them with the verve of a half-grown shelty. Watching her, Travis groaned inwardly. How could a father broach the subject of wearing a decent bra to his daughter?

“Hey, you’re waiting in the wrong place,” she said. “My bags’ll be coming off on number three…” Her voice trailed off as her gaze flickered to Eden’s sleek gray Pullman dangling from Travis’s hand, and then to Eden herself, who was scrambling to retrieve the matching garment bag.

“Uh…hi.” Nicole’s voice quavered uncertainly.

Sensing her mistaken impression, Travis stepped in quickly. “Nicole, this is Miss Eden Harper, one of my former schoolmates. She just flew in from New York and we, uh, sort of bumped into each other on the concourse.”

“Oh.” Nicole’s sharp brown eyes inspected Eden up and down before her face relaxed into a flippant grin. “New York, huh? That’s cool.”

“I’m pleased to meet you, Nicole.” Eden extended a slightly nervous hand, which Nicole accepted with the jerky politeness of a marionette.

“Eden’s on her way to Monroe. I’ve offered her a ride, and I do believe she’s accepted.” Travis avoided Eden’s eyes. So what if he was railroading her? He was a desperate man.

“Cool.” Nicole was still sizing up Eden, weighing the possibilities. “Hey, that jacket kicks!” she said. “Did you buy it in New York?”

“Uh-huh. At Bloomingdale’s. On clearance, I’m afraid, but definitely Bloomingdale’s.” An intriguing spark danced in Eden’s light green eyes. “You know, with your coloring, I’ll bet this jacket would look great on you. Why don’t we find out?”

Nicole might have protested, but Eden was already shrugging out of the beige linen suit jacket. Travis blinked as Nicole dropped her tote bag and turned a submissive back, arms sliding into the proffered sleeves. Within seconds, she was modestly covered.

“What do you think?” She struck a model’s pose for Eden’s approval.

“Sensational!” Eden grinned. “Want to wear it home?”

“Hey, could I really?” Nicole angled her body this way and that, inspecting the lapels and pockets. “Bloomingdale’s, huh? Cool.”

“Come on, let’s cut the fashion show and round up the baggage,” Travis growled, shooting Eden a glance of unabashed gratitude. He’d half expected the woman to bolt or protest on the spot. Instead, she had smoothed things over with a deftness that left him stunned.

Avoiding his gaze, Eden turned swiftly away—but not before he’d caught a jarring glimpse of what the jacket had concealed. Eden’s sleeveless peach silk blouse skimmed a curvaceous chest that he’d certainly never noticed on Edna Rae Harper. Maybe it was those baggy sweaters she’d always worn to school. Travis cursed silently as he tore his eyes away from the shadowed outline of lace beneath the gossamer-thin fabric. It was a good thing Nicole would be along to sit between them in the pickup. Otherwise, he could be in serious trouble.

Nicole’s twin duffels were leaden. Travis slung one from each shoulder and, with Nicole and Eden managing the rest of the luggage, they trudged out of the elevator onto the third level of the parking terrace.

“There’s the truck!” Nicole bounded ahead, dragging Eden’s wheeled Pullman case behind her. Travis deliberately slowed his steps, hoping Eden would stay back with him.

“I wanted to thank you while I have the chance,” he muttered, leaning close to her ear. “I was geared up for a battle royal over that outfit of hers.”

The subtle aura of Eden’s perfume tickled his senses as she walked deliberately ahead without glancing up at him. “Stay geared,” she hissed. “This is only the first skirmish. And the rest of the war is your problem, not mine.”

“You’re annoyed, aren’t you?”

She shot him an exasperated glance. “I just don’t want any gossip when we get home. And neither do you. People in small towns have long memories.”

“Well, I could always dump you in Richfield and let you hitch the last ten miles.”

Eden muttered something under her breath before releasing an explosive sigh. “All right. Truce. But after this, you’re on your own. I’ve spent sixteen years putting that awful day behind me, and nothing’s going to bring it back!”

She lengthened her step, heels clicking on the concrete as her long legs carried her away from him toward the pickup where Nicole waited.

Travis hung back, his emotions churning even as his gaze followed her sensual lioness walk.

What the hell, maybe she was right. Stirring up that ridiculous old scandal would do nothing for his image in the town, especially when word got out that he and Eden had been seen together. Leave the lady alone—that would be the smart thing to do.

Smart, yes.

But as Travis inhaled, the lingering scent of her perfume aroused a warm tingle that had nothing to do with wisdom.

Eden had reached the truck. She stood waiting for him to bring the key, gazing out over the rows of parked vehicles.

Travis pulled himself together with a mental slap. What was she being so uppity about, anyway? He had been the innocent party. And he would be the one to take the heat if things got stirred up again. Weeks from now, Miss Eden Harper would return to her New York world—a world so remote it might as well be on the moon. But he was the one who lived in Monroe. If anything happened between them, he was the one who’d be mopping up the mess.

Play it safe, Travis cautioned himself. Leave the lady on her doorstep and forget her.

But even as he strode toward the truck, he knew his willpower was going to have an uphill battle.

“I want to sit by the window!” Nicole hung on to the open door of the weather-beaten Ford pickup, swinging back and forth until the hinges squawked.

“Just climb in, young lady!” Travis’s shoulders rippled as he hefted the baggage, including Eden’s precious briefcase, into the truck’s open back. The truck bed had been swept, but green hay dust clung deep in the metal grooves, rich with the smell of home.

Eden’s memory stirred, recalling the small ranch Travis’s family had owned west of town on Poverty Flat. She remembered warm summer evenings, riding her bike along the back roads, filling her senses with the aroma of fresh-cut hay as she pedaled slowly past his gate. She remembered the wind in her hair, the mosquito bites on her legs, the exquisite surges of longing as she gazed toward his house….

“Please, Eden!” Nicole wheedled. “I want to see out! I get claustrophobia when I sit in the middle!”

“Now, listen…” Travis turned sharply, his voice harsh with annoyance. Sensing a confrontation, Eden impulsively stepped between them.

“It’s all right,” she said swiftly. “I really don’t mind sitting in the middle of the seat. Let Nicole have the window, if that’s what she wants.”

The thunderous scowl Travis flashed her made Eden realize she had overstepped her bounds, but he said nothing to confirm it. With a curt “Suit yourself,” he swung away, leaving her to scramble gracelessly into the high cab on her own while he secured the tailgate. She slid across the blanket-upholstered seat and straddled the gearbox with her legs, bracing for a very long three-hour ride.

Nicole plopped in beside her, grinning as she slammed the door of the truck and began rolling down the window. “Thanks. You’re cool, Eden. And I can already tell my daddy’s got the hots for you.”

“Nicole!” Eden’s heart sank as she felt the detested blush flame her cheeks. “You don’t know what you’re—”

“Psych!”

Nicole giggled, then, seeing Eden’s puzzled expression, she explained, “That means I was just kidding—wanted to see what you’d do. Boy, I’m sure glad I don’t blush like that! Hey, look at that buff guy…” She swiveled toward the open window, craning her neck to see past the side mirror.

Eden shrank into the upholstery, willing herself to vanish as Travis swung in beside her and buckled himself into the driver’s seat. Too late, she realized what close quarters the inside of a pickup truck could be. Barring visible contortions, there was no way she could sit comfortably without pressing against him from shoulder to knee.

A flutter of panic teased Eden’s diaphragm, climaxing in a nervous hiccup. Travis’s eyes stared straight ahead beneath the brim of his Stetson, as if she did not exist. His jaw tightened as he jammed the key into the ignition, then, as the engine roared to life, thrust his hand between her knees to grab the gearshift knob. Eden pressed her lips together as the oddly intimate contact touched off a little scherzo of hiccups.

Edna Rae had returned in all her glory.

Travis shot her a sidelong glance as he backed out of the parking space. “Put your seat belts on, ladies,” was all he said.

“Oh, you’re such an old fussbudget!” Nicole fumed. But she did snap her shoulder harness, then reach around to help drag the ends of Eden’s lap belt from under the back of the seat.

“Daddy, we need to stop and get sodas,” she piped up.

Travis ignored her. His elbow grazed Eden’s breast as he negotiated the corkscrew exit of the airport parking garage, igniting a tingle of awareness that caused them both to jerk apart.

“We need sodas,” Nicole persisted. “Eden’s got the hiccups. Listen.”

“I’m fine—really.” Eden punctuated her protest with an ill-timed hic as Travis pulled through the parking tollgate.

“Well, the sodas are going to have to wait till we get a few miles down the freeway,” he said. “There’s no place to stop out here.”

“Please don’t bother on my account,” Eden said, feeling woefully out of place. She did not belong in this role, playing buffer between a father and his willful young daughter. She especially did not belong in this truck, scrunched tight against the man who had made her pulse skitter since she was as young as Nicole. She was sick and tired of attractive males. Most of them, she’d sadly learned, were bullying, self-centered manipulators, and Travis Conroy was clearly no exception.

So why, then, was she reacting to him like a teenager in hormone overdrive?

Eden sat rigid as glass, excruciatingly aware of the heat that simmered along the line where her thigh lay against his. He smelled of the outdoors, of grass and sun and the kind of good, plain supermarket soap her mother always bought on sale. His flesh was warm and hard through the worn fabric of his jeans.

She took a deep breath, struggling to ignore the forbidden flutters his touch aroused in her body. A downward glance confirmed that her nipples had shrunk to tight little raspberries. They stood out through the wispy silk of a blouse she would never have chosen to wear without the concealing jacket. Too late, she missed the briefcase she’d allowed Travis to stow in the back. At least, she could have clutched it to her chest and hidden herself behind it.

Eden hiccuped wretchedly as the dry summer wind blasted her face through Nicole’s open window. The bus would have had air-conditioning, but she had no right to complain. She’d gotten herself into this mess. If she was miserable, it was no more than she deserved.

Lending Nicole her jacket had been an act of pure impulse, well motivated perhaps, but not well thought out. She had wanted to be friendly to the girl and to ease Travis’s obvious discomfort with her appearance. It had not occurred to her that she was walking into her own trap until it was too late to back out.

But why had she really done it? Eden scrunched, into the Navajo-blanket upholstery, lost in speculation. Did she feel some need to repay Travis Conroy for the embarrassment she’d caused? Or had she just wanted to show him that she was a big girl now, and savvy enough to handle a willful fourteen-year-old?

Oh, what was she doing here? If she had any sense, she would leap out of the truck, flag down a taxi and head straight for the bus depot!

The worst part was the way Travis had lapped it all up. He probably thought she was great with teenage girls. Well, she wasn’t. Apart from the memories of her own painful adolescence, she understood nothing about them, especially pretty, self-assured creatures like Nicole. To her, they were like bubbly little space aliens, beings from a world she had always envied but never inhabited.

Travis’s knuckles bumped her knees as the truck growled into second gear. Eden tensed, fearful of what the contact might arouse in her.

She could hold her own in the workplace, where she knew exactly what was expected. But when it came to relationships, especially with men, Edna Rae was alive and well. A few months ago she had almost believed she could change-but no, she could not afford to think about her broken engagement now. She would only get maudlin, and that wouldn’t do. Especially not in front of Travis Conroy.

She would make the best of the next three hours, Eden resolved with a hiccuping sigh. She would be civil to Travis and patient with the high-spirited Nicole. And when the ride was over, she would thank them kindly and run for her life—or at least for her sanity.

She would have to.

Any way you looked at him, Travis Conroy was trouble, more trouble than she ever wanted to deal with again.

Travis shifted into third, his wrist skimming Eden’s thigh as the truck ground up the on-ramp and nosed onto the interstate. He was making every effort to appear cool, but the veneer was already wearing thin. The changes in Nicole had thrown him off balance, and now, with no time to recover, he found himself plastered side by side against one of the most disturbingly attractive females he had ever encountered.

And the hell of it was, she was Edna Rae Harper.

This was crazy, Travis lashed himself as he gunned the engine and roared into the center lane. This lady was the original ugly duckling. Worse, her misguided fantasies had triggered one of the most embarrassing episodes of his life.

All he had ever wanted to do with Edna Rae Harper was forget her.

He stared fixedly at the black butt of the Pontiac LeMans in front of him, doing his damnedest to keep his eyes off Eden’s peach silk blouse. The way the fabric clung—No, he vowed, not one glance. But even the best intent could not stop his imagination from working. Her fragrant warmth invaded his senses, stirring a vision of ripe peaches in the summer sun, round, lush, silky to the touch of his fingertips…

It was enough to make a man sweat.

“So, uh, how long do you plan to be in Monroe?” he asked, making a lame stab at conversation.

Eden’s bare arm grazed his shoulder as she shifted in her seat. “Let’s see…I’ll be running my mother back to Provo tomorrow, and they’ll be doing her hysterectomy the next morning at Utah Valley Regional. After that, maybe four or five weeks, depending on how fast she recovers.”