Wildflower Bride in Dry Creek. Janet Tronstad

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СКАЧАТЬ didn’t sit around doing nothing,” she added, as if he hadn’t heard her the first time.

      “You mean you cook for the church parties?” Tyler asked, figuring that must be her latest passion. Maybe she made appetizers and folded napkins and offered up some kind of a prayer for a ladies tea or something. “The ranch cook has to feed the cowboys and, when they’ve been working, they eat like a pack of wild animals. You can’t be doing that job.”

      She didn’t respond, but she looked like she was gathering her defenses.

      “So, you’re giving me a party?” Tyler offered her an olive branch. He was rather fond of those little quiches anyway and wouldn’t mind eating a few. He supposed it didn’t matter who Angelina was cooking for. It wouldn’t last. She’d be on to something new before long.

      That’s when a realization hit him. “But nobody knew I was coming.”

      Not that he couldn’t appreciate a welcome-home party as much as the next guy, but he hadn’t been back in the States long enough to contact anyone but his employer. And nobody in the offices at Brighton Security would give out the location of a guard who was on duty. They’d be fired if they did. If there was a leak, he needed to know about it.

      That’s when Angelina took a deep breath and brushed her hand over her eyes. She looked at him through her tears. “I can’t believe you’re really alive.”

      “I know.” It was rather endearing, he thought. Maybe she did have some affection for him, after all.

      She shook her head. “No, you don’t understand.”

      She took another deep breath and still hesitated a moment. “I planned a funeral for you tonight.”

      “A what?”

      “Well, technically it’s not a funeral since we don’t have your body.” She rushed through the words and then stopped. “At least, we didn’t have your body earlier. I guess we do now. But it’s a memorial service out at your family’s ranch. I have a lot of wildflowers being delivered from Miles City. Some organic ranch by Missoula grows them for sale.”

      She looked at him, stricken again by some feeling. “I hope you like wildflowers. I never really heard you say what your favorite flower was.”

      “I don’t think I have one,” Tyler finally managed to answer.

      The sheriff shifted his stance and spoke. “Roses are nice.”

      “I think I need to sit down,” Tyler said and stepped back so he could sit on the sideboard of his pickup. “I’m not sick or anything though. Definitely not dying. Don’t order any more flowers.”

      The sheriff chuckled at that.

      The day was certainly hot, Tyler thought to himself as he sat there. He’d faced death a number of times in his life, but he’d never expected to face his funeral. The people of Dry Creek might have gossiped about his mother, but that would be nothing compared to what they would say about him now.

      * * *

      Angelina tried to get a good look at Tyler’s face, but his Stetson shaded him as he sat there. He had dark stubble on his chin, so he probably hadn’t shaved today. She used to be able to tell what he was thinking by the expression on his face, but she couldn’t right now. Suddenly, he lifted his head and his brown eyes flashed at her like he didn’t welcome her scrutiny. She felt a rush of embarrassment and turned away so she wasn’t staring at the man.

      She always did seem to do things wrong when it came to Tyler. He didn’t know it, but he’d been her best friend in high school. Of course, after that kidnapping attempt, he was always there, guarding her, so she found herself talking to him more than anyone. She hadn’t even complained too much about him being there because she’d never been as scared as when she’d been grabbed and forced into that black van. If Tyler hadn’t astonished everyone by pulling out a knife from somewhere and throwing it at a front tire on the vehicle, she could have been taken away and maybe even killed.

      “I only planned the memorial service because you saved my life,” she finally said. And she had only come to Dry Creek because her best friend, Kelly Norton, had told her that she’d never feel comfortable marrying anyone until she found closure with Tyler. Her father was pressuring her to marry his attorney but she refused to even get to know the man.

      “Nice shirt,” Angelina added just to hide her nerves. She didn’t know how much closure she’d have now that Tyler was alive. He was wearing a Western-style beige shirt with pearl snaps on it and the way it opened at the collar showed the strength of his neck. She was glad Kelly wasn’t here to see that or she’d be going on about how handsome and manly Tyler was. Angelina certainly hoped he didn’t think she was snooping around his hometown because she still had a crush on him like she had in high school. She never would have come if she thought he’d show up.

      “You don’t owe me for saving your life,” he said finally. “Your father gave me a bonus. I got the engine rebuilt in my pickup with it.”

      “Well, I didn’t go to much trouble,” Angelina said, gathering her dignity around her. Fortunately, she hadn’t arranged for anyone to sing at the funeral. And the reception afterward was going to be simple even if she expected fifty or so people.

      Then she remembered in dismay that she had ordered the gravestone with the custom-carved angel sitting on it. She had figured there should be some marker for Tyler even if he didn’t have a final resting place for his bones. Hopefully, the receipt wouldn’t be attached when the company delivered it to the ranch. It had been a little expensive, but the salesman had told her it was a memorial forever to a good friend. One of those priceless gestures that are supposed to be important in life.

      Now it was just an awkward chunk of marble, nothing but a tribute to her impetuous nature. She couldn’t send it back, either, not with the custom features she’d added.

      “You couldn’t have any event out at the ranch without going to some work,” Tyler said as he stood up again. “The house had to be filthy since no one has lived there for over a decade now. It would take a week just to get it in shape.”

      “Oh,” Angelina said and felt the rest of the air go out of her. The gravestone might not be her biggest worry.

      The sheriff chuckled again and turned to her. “You best take him out to the ranch so he can see how things are. And won’t Mrs. Hargrove be out there rehearsing her prayer?”

      “You’re having someone pray over me?” Tyler asked, clearly alarmed. “I don’t have much to do with church and praying, you know.”

      “Well, you will at your funeral,” Angelina snapped. She was trying to learn patience, but, really, she had meant the service as a kindness to him. “That poor woman prayed for you every day when you were in the military so you can accept a few words at your funeral. She said she’d prayed for you as a boy and she wasn’t about to stop when you needed it most.”

      “She did?” Tyler seemed surprised. “I always liked her. She used to carry lemon drops in her apron pocket for all us kids.”

      “Well, I want you to know that Mrs. Hargrove kept right on praying for you even when they said you were dead,” Angelina continued. “That’s why I thought we needed some kind of a service. Lots of people here were praying once they found out you were in the military and СКАЧАТЬ