The Best Bride. Susan Mallery

sharp ringing of the phone cut her off. “Excuse me,” he said, and reached for the phone on the end table. “Hello?”

      “Hey, Travis, it’s Kyle.” His brother sounded wary. “I ran that guy you asked me to. Sam Proctor. You’re not going to believe what I found.”

      “I already know.”

      “About the bigamy?”

      “Yeah.”

      “Elizabeth Abbott is in the report. The second wife, or whatever you’d call her.”

      “I know that, too.”

      “You okay?”

      Travis turned back toward Elizabeth, but she’d left the room. No, he wasn’t okay; he was never going to be okay again. She’d touched him and loved him in his bed, and now she was going to shut him down. Part of him couldn’t blame her. He was the last guy in the world she should get involved with. He would only screw up the whole thing. But his brief experience of paradise had left him hungry for more. He wanted to be different, he wanted to be the kind of man who could marry and have a family. He wanted—

      “Travis, are you there?”

      “Sorry. I’m fine. Look, Kyle, I want you to keep this information to yourself, okay?”

      Kyle exhaled in disgust. “I might be the youngest, Travis, but I’m not a kid. I know this could hurt Elizabeth. I won’t say anything.”

      “I know. I’m sorry. Look, could you just get your butt over here as quickly as possible?” He needed someone to run interference before he said or did something stupid. Worse, before he made a promise he knew he could never keep.

      * * *

      “I can’t sit out there with those boys if I know you’re in here doing all the work,” Louise said walking into the kitchen. “What can I do to help?”

      Elizabeth closed the oven door and smiled. For the first time that day, her sense of doom lifted a little. “Nothing. I’ve got everything under control.”

      “You make me feel guilty. I’m supposed to be looking after you.”

      Elizabeth laughed and moved to the kitchen table. “I’m feeling great. Doing more things every day.” She bit down on her lower lip. She’d almost blurted out, “Last night Travis and I made love, and I felt wonderful afterward.” That would have given Louise something to talk about. “My incision hardly gives me any trouble at all.” Except for a slight tenderness after they’d— Stop thinking about it, she ordered herself. It only made everything more difficult.

      “Do you want some coffee?” she asked, pointing to the full pot. “It’s fresh.”

      “I’ll get it,” Louise said. “You sit down for a minute and rest yourself. There’s no point in spending all this time getting better if you’re just going to wear yourself out in one afternoon.”

      She poured herself a cup, then offered one to Elizabeth. She shook her head in refusal. Louise poured in milk and added a rounded teaspoon of sugar.

      Today she was dressed all in purple. A frilly blouse that did nothing to hide her generous curves, a calf-length ruffled skirt and bright purple cowboy boots. Her short blond hair had been puffed and sprayed into little spikes. She wore saddle earrings and lots of black mascara. The kindness and concern in her blue eyes made her look beautiful.

      “I’m doing great,” Elizabeth said. It wasn’t an actual lie. Physically she was doing well. Emotionally, she was hovering about a half inch off the ground. Last night had been perfect, but this morning, when she’d woken up alone in Travis’s bed, all her doubts had crashed in around her. They’d made a terrible mistake. The lovemaking had been so right between them, but the memory was tainted by the reason he’d reached for her in the first place. Once Travis realized that, he wouldn’t want to remember what had happened at all. He would put it and her out of his mind. She hated to think about that. She knew there was no hope for any kind of long-term relationship between them, but she’d counted on them staying friends.

      “You want to talk about it?” Louise asked, then took a sip from her mug. She walked to the table and plopped into the seat next to Elizabeth.

      “I—”

      “Don’t bother lying, honey. I can see the pain in your pretty eyes. Did something happen here, or is this about whatever made you come to town in the first place?”

      Elizabeth stared at her. Had the other woman guessed or had Travis said something?

      “Don’t give me that look,” Louise said. “It doesn’t take a lot of brains to figure out something is wrong with you. When you first arrived you spent most of your time looking over your shoulder. Who are you afraid of?”

      Elizabeth fought the urge to confide in Louise. She’d felt better after telling Travis the truth. Confession was good for the soul. But she was afraid. She hadn’t even told her own parents. She couldn’t face the disappointment and shame she would hear in their voices. Would Louise understand? She gathered her courage together.

      “If it’s about you and Travis being lovers, then you don’t have anything to worry about.”

      Her courage fled and with it her composure. Her mouth dropped open. “He told you?”

      Louise leaned forward and smiled. “No one had to tell me, honey. I could feel it the second I walked into this house.” She patted her hand. “Don’t worry. The boys are too dense to figure it out. Your secret is safe with me.”

      “It doesn’t make any difference,” Elizabeth said, staring at the water glass in front of her. She moved it back and forth over the bleached oak table. “Travis isn’t the kind of man a woman settles down with, even if I was interested.”

      “You be careful about believing all of his press,” Louise said. “He and his brothers paid a high price for their father’s and uncles’ ways. The boys have worked hard to be decent to the women in their lives. They mostly lack any kind of skills in relationships. No role models—at least that’s what they usually say on those daytime talk shows.” She smiled. “Maybe you should think about giving him a chance.”

      “I can’t.” She drew in a deep breath. The courage returned. “I came to Glenwood to get away from my life in L.A. Mandy’s father was a bigamist, and I was his second wife.”

      She told the story quickly, even the embarrassing details about how stupid she’d been. She finished, then braced herself for Louise’s well-intentioned scolding.

      “That bastard,” Louise said, glaring at her. “Excuse my French, but that’s exactly what he is.”

      Elizabeth blinked. She couldn’t have heard the other woman correctly. “No, you don’t understand. It’s my fault. I should have known.”

      “How were you supposed to know?”

      “He was my husband.”

      “All the more reason to trust him. Oh, I just hate men like that.”

      “But, Louise—”

      “Don’t you ‘but, Louise’ me. You were a virgin when you met him, weren’t you?”

      Elizabeth was too surprised by her friend’s anger to be embarrassed by the question. “Yes, but—”

      “And you were faithful to him during your relationship.”

      “Of course, but—”

      Louise rose to her feet and started pacing the kitchen. “I’d like to find him and give him a piece of my mind. No. I’d like him castrated.”

      Elizabeth giggled. “That sounds a little harsh, even for Sam.”

      Louise paused and leaned against the counter. “Okay, maybe we’ll just threaten him with dismemberment. Just