Backlit by sunlight, he couldn’t see the expression on her face. She stopped when she saw him. Before she could react, he reached out and grabbed her arm.
“Why?” he said through clenched teeth. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
Her whole body trembled. “T-tell you what?”
“Don’t play innocent with me, Jill. I know Jordan is my son. And you had no right to keep that from me. No right at all.”
He thought she would continue to deny it, but she didn’t. She just looked at him. Tears glistened in her eyes. The sunlight pouring into the barn lit her hair from behind, giving the impression of a halo. But this was no angel standing there.
This was a warm-blooded, sexy woman—and the mother of his child.
“I’m so sorry,” she whispered.
For a moment Stephen wasn’t sure what he wanted more: to kiss her or shake her. The desire to kiss her won out, and he yanked her into his arms and covered her mouth with his own.
Dear Reader,
This book was truly a labor of love. I got the idea several years ago and it simply would not let me go. Finally I decided to see if I couldn’t figure out a way to tell the story so that it could have a happy ending, for that was the problem. In my head, I could see the story going so far and then no farther. But eventually all fell into place, and His Brother’s Bride-To-Be was born.
There were other problems besides the elusive happy ending. For one, I was setting the story on a ranch and I know absolutely zero about ranches, even though I live in Texas. Second problem was my complete lack of knowledge about horses. But these two problems were easily solved since my two critique partners are both avid horsewomen and were able to supply the background information I was missing. So a hearty thank-you goes to Alaina Richardson and Colleen Thompson. I don’t know what I’d do without you.
I love to hear from readers. Please visit me at www.patriciakay.com and drop me a line. I promise to write back.
Happy reading!
Patricia Kay
Formerly writing as Trisha Alexander, Patricia Kay is a USA TODAY-bestselling author of more than thirty contemporary romances. She lives in Houston, Texas. To learn more about her, visit her Web site at www.patriciakay.com.
This book is dedicated, with love,
to all the wonderful readers who have written to me over
the years. Your letters and e-mails have meant so much.
Knowing that my books have brightened your lives or
helped you through a bad time is a gift I will always
treasure. Thank you from the bottom of my heart.
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Epilogue
Stephen Wells winced when he heard the unmistakable ring of his cell phone. Dammit. He’d meant to turn the blasted thing off before entering Jake Burrow’s office because he knew how much the old man hated interruptions. He especially hated cell phones.
Sure enough, Jake glared.
“Sorry,” Stephen said, digging the phone out of his pocket. He was about to switch it off when he saw the number displayed. Caroline? Giving Jake an apologetic look and a murmured, “I’ll just be a minute,” Stephen rose and walked out of the office.
“Hello?”
“Stephen? Thank God I found you.”
Although she was a year older than him, Caroline was his niece, the daughter of his older half-brother, Elliott. Stephen could hear the barely concealed panic in her voice, and he froze. All he could think was that something had happened to Elliott. “What’s wrong?”
“It’s Daddy.”
Stephen couldn’t breathe.
“You’re not going to believe this, Stephen. He’s getting married!” With each word, her voice climbed higher.
Stephen blinked. Married? Elliott? That was impossible. “Where did you get that idea? Just who is he supposed to be marrying?” She had to be mistaken. To Stephen’s knowledge, Elliott hadn’t even dated anyone since the death of his wife fourteen months earlier.
“Where do you think I got that idea? From him! He called not five minutes ago to say he’s bringing this woman home with him.”
“I don’t—”
“And that’s not all. She’s younger than me!” Once again, her voice had climbed.
“Younger than you?” Caroline was thirty-four. Elliott was fifty-seven. “How do you know that?”
“Because Dad told me. Oh, he didn’t volunteer the information. I had to dig it out of him. And trust me, he wasn’t too keen about admitting it, either.”
Stephen didn’t know what to say.
“She’s obviously a gold digger,” Caroline said bitterly.
“Oh, c’mon, you’re jumping to conclusions.” But Stephen’s mind was spinning. When could Elliott have met this woman? And where? And why hadn’t he mentioned her to Stephen? “Just who is she, do you know?”
“Somebody he met on one of his business trips to Austin.” Austin was a five-hour drive from their southwest Texas ranch and Elliott, who had myriad business interests, traveled there often.
“Well, I’ll be damned,” Stephen said softly. He’d known his brother was lonely since Adele’s death. Stephen missed her, too—she’d been a wonderful person—so he could imagine how Elliott felt. But…getting married? And so soon? To a woman so young? Stephen wanted to believe Elliott knew what he was doing, that this woman was worthy of his brother, that Elliott’s considerable fortune had had nothing to do with her willingness to become the second Mrs. Lawrence. Yet even as Stephen speculated, he felt guilty. Elliott was a good-looking, virile man in terrific shape. And fifty-seven wasn’t old by a long shot.
“You’ve got to come home, Stephen. He’s bringing her here tomorrow.”
“I can’t be there tomorrow. I’ll be back on Saturday.”
“I want you to be here when they get here. I’m going to need the moral support.”
“Look, Caroline, what’s the difference? Me being there or not being there? It’s not like they’re getting married tomorrow. Besides—”
“Besides, what?”
Stephen wanted to say his loyalty and sympathy lay with Elliott. If anyone deserved to be happy, it was him. But Stephen knew better. Caroline was upset enough. No sense making things worse. He chose his words carefully. “I just think we should reserve our judgment. Give your dad a break, you know?”
“A break! He’s obviously lost his mind! Anyway, I haven’t told you everything. She’s got a son. A son! And from what Dad said, he’s younger than Tyler.” Tyler was Caroline’s son. “I’m telling you, you’ve got to be here. You’re the one Dad listens to.” This last was said with an undertone of resentment.
Stephen stifled a sigh. He knew Caroline would give him no peace until he capitulated. And the truth was, he did think it might be a good idea to be there when Elliott and the woman and her son arrived, if only to act as a buffer between Caroline and the happy couple. Maybe he could seal the deal on the filly with Jake quickly and leave for home early in the morning. “All right,” he said with resignation, “I’ll do my best.”
But it took until noon the following day before the registration papers for the filly were ready and all the arrangements were made to ship the quarter horse out to the ranch the following week. Caroline hadn’t been happy when Stephen called to tell her it was impossible for him to get there before late afternoon.
But it couldn’t be helped. The filly was too promising—they planned to use her specifically for breeding stock—for Stephen to walk away. He had a job to do, and no matter what Caroline wanted, he had to finish it before he could even think about going home.
At least he would make it back before dark. Stephen was certified on instruments, but he preferred to fly in the daylight, when he could see. Thinking about the Cessna 152 two-seater he’d purchased the previous year, he couldn’t help smiling. Stephen had fallen in love with flying during his first year of law school at Harvard. He’d shared an apartment with a flying enthusiast from Connecticut and had quickly gotten hooked himself.
After renting planes for years, he’d finally decided to make the leap and buy his own. He’d been afraid Elliott would disapprove and try to talk him out of it, but his brother had encouraged him, even though Elliott was a white-knuckle flier himself who preferred to get around by walking, riding his beloved horses, or driving one of his two trucks.
Stephen frowned. Elliott meant more to him than anyone on the face of the earth. He would, literally, lie down and die for his brother. He sure hoped Caroline was wrong and that this woman Elliott planned to marry truly loved him. Yet he couldn’t help but worry.
Because even if the woman turned out to be wonderful, Stephen knew Caroline could make life miserable for her. Which would, in turn, make life miserable for Elliott.
And me….
Much of this and other problems would be lessened if Caroline had a place of her own. Even Elliott realized that, but he was too softhearted where his daughter was concerned to do anything about it. The trouble was, he’d encouraged her to move back to the ranch after her divorce four years ago, and now that Adele was gone nothing short of an earthquake would dislodge her. Even if she had been inclined to find a separate home for herself and her son, this new development would cause her to dig her heels even deeper.
Because if there was one thing you could count on, it was Caroline’s fierce possessiveness where her father was concerned. This obsession, this need to be number one in her father’s life, had begun when she was little, “the princess,” the spoiled only child of parents who had wanted more children but were unable to have them so lavished all their attention and love on their daughter. It was the source of all the friction between Stephen and Caroline, for she was intensely jealous of the relationship between the two brothers. It was a measure of how upset she was over Elliott’s engagement that she had called Stephen about it, for normally he would be the last person she’d turn to.
Stephen heaved a sigh.
He smelled big trouble ahead.
“Don’t worry, darling. Everything’s going to be fine, you’ll see.”
Jill Emerson smiled at her fiancé. Elliott was such a sweetheart. She had never believed she would ever find a man like him. Considerate, thoughtful, kind, loving…He was just all around terrific, and she was a lucky woman.
But despite Elliott’s assurance, she wasn’t sure everything would be fine. She’d seen the look on his face after he’d finished talking to his daughter and telling her about their coming marriage. He’d admitted afterward that Caroline was “a little upset” but had assured Jill that she’d get over it. “It’s just that she didn’t expect this,” he’d added. “I should have told her about you months ago.”
Caroline’s reaction was much stronger than he’d let on, Jill suspected. He just didn’t want Jill to worry. Truth was, Jill understood how Elliott’s daughter must feel. Elliott had told Jill that Caroline had been very close to her mother. She was bound to be upset that her father wanted to marry again so soon.
Plus there’s the age difference.
Elliott was fifty-seven, and Jill was thirty. To many people this would have been an insurmountable obstacle to the relationship, but the difference in their ages didn’t bother Jill at all.
But Caroline couldn’t know that. She probably imagined Jill was only interested in Elliott’s money. After all, how was she to know that Jill loved Elliott and would have agreed to marry him even if he wasn’t wealthy—something Jill hadn’t known when she’d first started seeing him.
Jill actually liked the fact Elliott was more mature. Older men were more responsible and committed, she’d found. Plus they had confidence and didn’t constantly need propping up. Not that Jill had had that much experience with men of any age. In the past ten years she’d been too busy finishing college, and caring for her terminally ill aunt, as well as raising Jordan and supporting both of them after her aunt’s death, to have much time for anything else.
As if he knew her thoughts had turned to him, Jordan removed his headphones and said, “Elliott, when are we going to be there?”
Jill and Elliott exchanged amused smiles. Although Elliott still didn’t know Jordan the way Jill did, he’d known him long enough to realize the ten-year-old was long on curiosity but short on patience.
“It’ll be another hour or so, son,” Elliott said.
Jordan heaved a noisy sigh. “Okay.”
“How about if we stop for some ice cream?” Elliott suggested. “There’s a store right up the road that sells the best homemade ice cream you’ve ever tasted.”
“Will ice cream make the time go faster?” Jill teased.
“As far as I’m concerned, good ice cream solves all the world’s problems,” Elliott said, winking at her.
The funny thing was, the ice cream did seem to make the remainder of the trip go faster—not that Jill was in any hurry to get there. But she knew Jordan was tired of being in the car and Elliott was anxious to get home.
“We’re almost there now,” Elliott said. “When we get to the top of that rise, you’ll be able to see the ranch.”
Jill smiled, even though inside she was a mass of nerves. I’ve made the right decision, she told herself yet again. I do love Elliott, and Jordan adores him. That’s what counts. If his family is suspicious, they have a right to be. I’ll just have to show them I’m not a threat. And I’ve got the entire summer to win them over.
She’d made it clear to Elliott that she wouldn’t marry him until September, even though he’d wanted the wedding to take place immediately. She simply had to be sure his family would welcome her and Jordan. Accepting anything less would be unfair, not just to him but to all of them. Although Elliott had been disappointed, he hadn’t pushed once he realized she’d made up her mind. The one thing he had said, though, was that he knew it would be uncomfortable for her if Caroline remained at the ranch after the wedding.
“We’ll talk about her finding her own place,” Elliott had promised.
“Don’t do anything right away,” Jill had answered. “Let’s just see how things go.”
Breaking into her thoughts now, Elliott said, “There it is.”
The quiet pride in his voice warmed Jill. His love of home and family was one of his greatest attractions for her, a quality that had shone through even on their first meeting. Remembering that Saturday in January made Jill forget her reservations and smile again.
Elliott had come into the small gallery where Jill’s paintings were sold and where she worked several afternoons a week and most weekends. He was looking for a birthday present for his daughter, he said. Jill had immediately liked him: his kind blue eyes, the warmth of his smile and the attentive way he listened as she explained the merits of the different pieces that interested him.
He’d settled on one of her favorite paintings—a delicate watercolor of one of the old missions near her aunt’s home in San Marcos.
“I hope your daughter likes this,” she’d said as she wrapped the painting.
“I’m sure she will,” he said. “All of your paintings are beautiful.”
Just then Jordan had burst through the front door. On the days she worked there, she’d arranged for him to get a ride to the gallery after school, not only because hiring a babysitter to watch him until Jill got home would have strained her budget to a frightening point, but because Jill liked having him there.
He sat in the small office in the back and did his homework while having a snack; Jill’s friend and employer, Nora O’Malley, always kept fruit and drinks in the refrigerator for him. When he finished, Jill would allow him to turn on the small TV back there, but she never let him watch more than an hour’s worth of Animal Planet, his favorite channel. Instead she encouraged him to read.
Thinking about how Elliott had immediately shown interest in Jordan, and Jordan in him, Jill felt blessed. It seemed like a miracle that she’d found this man, who not only loved her but also loved her son.
Even so, she hadn’t been sure about marrying him. When he’d first asked her, a month ago, she hadn’t immediately said yes. Instead she’d told him how honored she was that he wanted her for his wife, but that she’d need some time to think about it. “There are so many things to consider,” she’d said.
“I understand,” he’d answered before she’d had the chance to say anything more. “Take all the time you need.”
That was another of his wonderful qualities. He had true empathy for people and seemed able to always place himself in their shoes. This was a rare trait in anyone, and Jill knew it. But still she’d hesitated. Marrying Elliott would bring about monumental changes in her life and in Jordan’s. She would have to give up her teaching post as a traveling art teacher between several Austin schools as well as her job at the gallery, and she would be leaving everything familiar—her friends, her church, her career—and going into the unknown.
“I wouldn’t hesitate for a minute,” Nora had said. “He’s a catch, Jill. In fact, if you don’t want him, I’m going after him!”
She’d laughed when she said it, but Jill knew Nora was more than halfway serious.
“Besides,” Nora had added, “you can paint anywhere. And I’ll always be happy to sell your work, you know that.”
But the deciding factor in Jill’s accepting Elliott’s proposal came from Jordan. He’d been delighted when Jill told him she might marry Elliott, that they might move to Elliott’s ranch.
“Cool!” he’d said, his eyes lighting up with excitement. “Maybe Elliott’ll get me a horse!”
When she’d told Elliott her decision, he’d said she made him the happiest man on earth and that she would never be sorry. With those words, her last lingering doubts slipped away.
I am very lucky, she thought now, so no matter what it takes, no matter how hard I have to work at it, I will do everything in my power to win over both Caroline and his brother. Because Elliott and Jordan deserve no less.
Caroline Lawrence Conway paced the living room of her father’s ranch house. Her heels hammered against the hardwood floors. If her father had been there, he’d have frowned. He didn’t like her wearing spike heels when walking on his precious wood, and normally Caroline wanted nothing more than to please her father. But right then, she didn’t care what he would think if he saw her.
How could he call from out of the blue and tell her he was engaged? To a woman they didn’t know and that he’d never mentioned? One who was even younger than Caroline herself? It was horrible. Sickening. Disgusting. Why, her mother had only been dead fourteen months! She was barely cold in her grave. Their friends would be scandalized. They’d think her father, who’d always been so sensible, had lost his mind.
Furious tears filled Caroline’s eyes. She couldn’t believe this had happened. Once again, she replayed the conversation with her father.
“Hello, princess,” he’d said. “Just wanted you to know I’ll be back tomorrow afternoon.”
Caroline had smiled. She missed her father when he wasn’t there. “What would you like for dinner? Want me to thaw out some steaks? And I’ll ask Marisol to make that potato and cheese casserole you like so much.”
“That sounds perfect,” he’d said. “But take out an extra steak or two. I’m bringing a couple of people with me.”
“Oh?” She still hadn’t suspected a thing. She’d thought he meant business associates—a new contact, perhaps.
“I wanted you to be the first to know, Caroline. I’m…engaged to be married.”
Caroline had been so shocked, she’d been unable to speak. Then she’d thought she’d misunderstood him. “Wh-what did you say?”
He’d laughed. “I said, I’m engaged. Her name is Jill. And she has a ten-year-old son named Jordan. They’re both coming home with me tomorrow. I can’t wait for you to meet her.”
After that, Caroline wasn’t sure what she’d said. She’d been shaking and very upset. She hadn’t even tried to hide it. And her father, who was normally the kindest of men, had acted as if he were oblivious. He’d just said, “I know you’re going to love Jill, Caroline. I think you’ll be the best of friends.”
Finally she’d recovered enough to ask questions, which he’d reluctantly answered. That was when she’d found out how young his new fiancée was.
Thinking about that now, Caroline knew he’d hoped to wait until he got home before he’d have to admit that he planned to marry a woman younger than his own daughter. That the woman, this Jill person, was a gold digger was a given.
Yes, Caroline knew her father was handsome, but he was fifty-seven years old, for crying out loud! Maybe fifty-seven-year-old movie stars married thirty-year-old women, but in the real world, that didn’t happen unless the man was wealthy. And ever since oil had been discovered on their land, Elliott Tyler Lawrence had become extremely wealthy.
Oh, this woman was after his money, no doubt about it. She’d taken one look at Caroline’s father and seen a permanent meal ticket. Honestly, men were such fools, Caroline thought bitterly.
She could just imagine what this Jill looked like. She was probably a big-breasted, blond, Pamela Anderson type. Friends! Was her father serious? There was no way on God’s green earth that Caroline would ever become friends with some slut who was trying to usurp Caroline’s mother’s rightful place in her father’s heart.
And mine.
Frightened tears welled in Caroline’s eyes. How could he?
“Miss Caroline?”
Caroline whirled around. Marisol, their longtime housekeeper, stood in the arched doorway that led into the main foyer of the large ranch house. She was wiping her hands on her ever-present apron.
“What is it, Marisol?”
“For dessert tonight, Miss Caroline? I thought I’d make flan. Is that all right with you?”
“I don’t care. Whatever you want to make.”
After the housekeeper turned to go back to the kitchen, Caroline walked to the front window. She angrily swiped at her eyes, then gazed out at the bright June day. She was afraid to think about what would happen if her dad’s marriage plans went through. Would he want Caroline and Tyler to move? What would she do if he did? Just the idea of having to be out on her own again made her feel sick.
I can’t. I won’t.
She was still thinking of the possible consequences of her father’s news when she spied his dark red Dodge Ram truck at the top of the rise that led to the main house. Her heartbeat quickened. She was glad they were here early, before Tyler got home from his friend Evan’s house.
Thinking about her twelve-year-old son and the last thing her father had said to her before they’d hung up yesterday, she clenched her teeth. He thought Tyler and that woman’s brat would be friends, too. Huh. Not if Caroline had anything to say about it, they wouldn’t.
Taking a deep breath and stiffening her spine, she stalked out to the foyer and yanked open the door.
Pulsuz fraqment bitdi.