Sgt. Billy's Bride. Bonnie Gardner

mistake. As if she didn’t have enough sorting out of her own to do.

      She patted Mrs. Hays gently on the back and pushed herself out of the woman’s embrace. “It’s so nice to meet you, Mrs. Hays. Bill has told me so much about you.”

      “Well, Billy surely hasn’t said anything at all about you,” Mrs. Hays said, shaking her head. “If you’re going to be in the family, you can call me Momma. Or, at least, Nettie. Mrs. Hays sounds so unfriendly, don’t you think?”

      “Yes, ma’am, I suppose it does. I’ll be happy to call you Nettie.” There was absolutely no way Darcy was going to call the woman Momma. That would just be too cruel.

      It was bad enough that she and Bill were going to have to burst her bubble in the morning. She glanced up at Bill and raised an eyebrow and hoped he got the message.

      She wasn’t sure what the message was, but she did want him to know that she wasn’t happy with the turn of events.

      After all, she’d just escaped from one fiancé. She certainly did not need another one.

      Darcy smiled at Mrs. Hays. “It’s awfully late, Mrs. H—I mean, Nettie. Why don’t we get you settled, and we can chat in the morning.”

      “I do look forward to that, hon. And you are right. I am tired. I guess all this excitement’s done worn me out.” She turned toward Bill. “Help me up the stairs, son, so I can go to bed. I’ll leave you to settle your fiancée in—Why, I do declare, you have not introduced me to my future daughter-in-law.”

      “It’s Darcy Stanton, Nettie,” Darcy said, forcing a smile. She waved and Nettie smiled back, then took Bill’s arm and allowed him to help her up the short flight of steps.

      Wondering how they were going to talk their way out of this charade without hurting the woman struggling up the stairs, Darcy stood outside in the glare of the security lamp and took stock of her surroundings.

      The house was small, and Darcy wondered how the woman could have raised five kids in it. But the lawn was trimmed and the flower beds neat and cared for. Obviously, Bill’s brothers and sisters were coming around to help. She thought about the strong love they must share and weighed it against her family’s feelings about duty and tradition. They didn’t compare.

      She could see a couple of outbuildings beyond the small house: a chicken house, she supposed, and a shed or a small barn. Mrs. Hays might have kept some chickens and a few cows at one time, but Darcy doubted she was up to keeping them now.

      It reminded her of something out of the Laura Ingalls Wilder books she’d loved as a child. Darcy suspected that it had been fun growing up here where the kids could run free and grow like weeds. Not like her own heavily restricted upbringing on military bases all over the world. She’d often had to be escorted to school by armed guards and had only dreamed of running free. The Hays family might have been poor, but her upbringing hadn’t been any better. At least, Bill and his siblings had the roots and stability she’d always craved.

      “What do you think?”

      Darcy turned, startled, at the sound of Bill’s voice behind her. “About what?”

      She looked so much like an angel, Bill thought as he hurried down the porch steps to where Darcy waited outside in the yard. He shouldn’t have left her there, but he had to take care of Momma first. Hell, he shouldn’t have gotten Darcy in this mess in the first place.

      He drew in a long breath and answered her question. “The Hays homestead, I suppose,” Bill said. “It’s gone to seed some since Momma’s been sick, but it was a nice place to grow up.” And for the first time in his life, Bill realized that it had been.

      “That’s exactly what I was thinking. I always dreamed of living in a place like this. I bet you had chickens and cows when you were growing up and had chores and everything.”

      “Didn’t you?”

      “Didn’t I what? Have chickens and cows?”

      “No, chores,” Bill corrected.

      “Oh, sure. Clean up my room. Dishes. I always wondered what it would be like to feed chickens, gather the eggs, and milk cows.”

      Bill shrugged. “Feeding chickens is no big thing. You just toss out feed, and the chickens come running. It was a little more exciting to get the eggs. Sometimes an ol’ hen wouldn’t want to part with hers, and I’d have to shoo her off. She’d go with feathers flying and clucking fit to beat the band.” He chuckled and headed for his Jeep. “Can’t tell you much about milking, though. We just had steers.”

      “Steers?” Darcy asked as Bill opened the back door to the Jeep.

      Bill handed her the backpack and hoisted her duffel bag out along with his own, then slammed the door shut. “Yeah, we got bull calves free from the dairy farm down the road toward Pittsville and raised them for beef.”

      He smiled inwardly as Darcy grimaced.

      “How can you eat anything that you’ve looked in the face?” she said, horror written all over hers.

      “You can eat anything if you’re hungry enough, I reckon,” Bill said as he turned toward the house. “You comin’?” He strode up the stairs. “It’s been a helluva long day, and I’d just as soon hit the sack than stand out here and talk about butchering beef.” He could stand around and talk with her as long as she could, but Bill could see that she was just as tired as he was. She might be wide awake right now, but he’d bet she’d drop off as soon as her head hit the pillow. Just as he would.

      Just not together.

      Why did he keep thinking about that?

      He wouldn’t mind sleeping with her, but he’d only known Darcy for a few hours, and tomorrow they’d say goodbye. It was nice to dream about, but in the morning he would wake up and face reality.

      Bill stopped at the front door to reach for the knob, and Darcy collided with him. He paused, enjoying the feeling of her soft form against him, but she drew away quickly enough. He turned around. “I want to thank you for what you did back there,” he said. “I know we’re going to have to come clean with Momma in the morning, but it was more important to get her to bed tonight. It’ll be easier for her to take when she’s rested,” he said.

      “You’re probably right,” Darcy said. “But you will explain it to her first thing, won’t you?” She yawned and rubbed her eyes. “And you’ll drive me back to Montgomery?”

      “I’ll take you anywhere you want,” he told her, but the only place he could think about taking her was to bed. His, not one in his sisters’ room where Momma’d said to put her. He figured it wouldn’t hurt anything to think about it. He was realistic enough to know it wasn’t going to happen anytime soon. No, he told himself, firmly. It wasn’t ever going to happen.

      “Thank you,” Darcy said and yawned again. “Now, could you show me where to sleep before I curl up on that porch swing over there?”

      Bill chuckled. “I think I can show you something softer than that old porch swing. Come on inside. Momma said you could have Lougenia and Earline’s room.” He pulled open the screen door and ushered Darcy inside.

      A ROOSTER CROWED, and Darcy roused briefly from deep sleep. She looked around the room, still colorless in the gray morning light, and listened for any sounds to indicate anyone in the house was up. Hearing none, she rolled over and burrowed her face into the pillow.

      The next time Darcy woke, daylight was streaming in through windows unshuttered against the morning sun. She smelled bacon and coffee, and suddenly she was wide awake.

      She was in Bill Hays’s mother’s house, and on top of that, she was pretending to be his fiancée. But only for a few minutes longer. Bill had promised to straighten it all out with his mother. Maybe he already had.

      A girl could hope.

      Darcy pushed herself up on