His Brother's Bride. Judith Bowen

The tough part was going to be introducing her as Jesse’s surprise ladylove to all their neighbors and friends. No one would be expecting what could only be described as a shotgun wedding from either of the Winslows.

      Jesse and Abby were riding with him, as Jesse owned only his pickup, while Noah had both his pickup and a six-year-old four-door Chevrolet sedan, as well. Low-end, nothing fancy, but it served its purpose, which was mainly long highway trips and the occasional date. Taking a woman out to a decent restaurant in a work truck was a teenager’s trick, in his opinion.

      By half past four he was ready, wearing dress pants and boots, a crew-necked white knit T-shirt—Noah couldn’t abide ties—and a Western-cut jacket. He wore a wide-brimmed hat, as usual, only this was his going-out model, a fine tan-colored beaver-felt Stetson. He had to adjust the seat on the Chevy, since Carl had driven it last, then put it. into gear and eased slowly down the hill. He was picking up the lovebirds at Jesse’s house.

      He parked in the driveway, and when no one appeared right away, leaned gently on the horn. He glanced in the rearview mirror. Pat was walking slowly to her favorite spot behind one of the feed sheds and, as he watched, she turned three times and settled down, gazing sadly toward him. That old poser, he thought. He often took the dog with him in his pickup, but never in the car.