My Baby, My Bride. Tina Leonard

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СКАЧАТЬ inside the doors of the saloon, also carrying wrapped presents. Then in his rearview mirror he saw Valentine pushing a white wicker pram on huge wheels and walking alongside a rangy cowboy—the kind who made the girls squirm and swoon at rodeos. He carried a large cake in his big arms. They, too, went into the Tulips Saloon.

      “It isn’t Ladies Only Day,” Duke declared to no one but himself. He drummed the steering wheel, straightening when Holt the hairdresser also went inside. It appeared that there was a party, one to which he had not been invited, which gnawed at his already rough feelings. What in the hell was going on in there?

      There were more arrivals, including Mr. Parsons and Mr. Carmine, who looked around with surreptitious glances to make certain they weren’t seen before slipping inside as well. Duke blinked. They hadn’t been carrying presents, but… The Plot! Of course, The Plot. The townspeople really were working to unseat him! “What did I do to deserve this?” he asked himself. There was nothing for him to do but slink back to his jailhouse and try to ignore the fact that it was utterly empty for once. He could clean out a filing cabinet. Hell, for that matter, he could dust his cactus and maybe check the mailbox, not that there was ever much of anything in it.

      He hated it when conspiracies brewed around him. But he drove across the square, parked at the jail and got out, morosely glancing over his shoulder at the Tulips Saloon.

      Just then he saw the biggest traitor of them all sneak through the stained-glass doors like a garden snake into a watering can—Zach. His own brother!

      No doubt Liberty was in there. Of course she was. She would be right in the thick of the action, surrounded by her friends.

      He felt the urge to cross the street and crash the party, feigning that his invitation had been misplaced. Maybe it had been? But his sister would have dragged him in, at least, if she’d thought he’d been invited, which meant he most definitely had not.

      And he’d vowed to stay clear of Liberty, to give her a taste of her own medicine.

      “Damn it,” he muttered. His heart was breaking. To be ousted from the town he loved, snubbed by people he spent his days helping…

      What had gone so wrong between he and Liberty? One second he’d had her at the altar, the next, she’d disappeared. He should be angry, but all he did was love her more. Her wild side appealed to him.

      And damn it, that’s exactly what he was going to tell her. He was going to walk into the Tulips Saloon like the sheriff he was—this time he’d even gently ease open the doors instead of tossing them back—and he’d politely ask for his dog. That’s what he’d do.

      It wouldn’t work, he realized, because Mr. Parsons was in there and she probably wouldn’t even leave the old man’s side.

      Okay, so he’d cruise over there and just act as if he hadn’t known there was a party. It wasn’t Ladies Only Day so he had every right, he assured himself righteously while taking a swig of whiskey in some cold coffee for courage.

      Gathering up his bravado, which had been shamelessly stomped lately, he strode across the street. With good manners and a somewhat trembling heart, he calmly opened the doors with a smile that he hoped would convey I’m harmless, aren’t we friends?

      Silence enveloped the room. The smile slipped from his face as he saw the rangy cowboy sitting next to Liberty. Hesitating—remembering to keep a lid on his temper—his gaze suddenly riveted to the beautiful cake Liberty was about to cut.

      The cake was festooned with a tier of pastel pink-and-blue ribbons, and a silver baby rattle lay beneath it like a shiny announcement of a beautiful, miraculous future.

      His eyes met Liberty’s with horror and heartbreak, and in her eyes he read the truth: Liberty Wentworth was welcoming a baby into her life. That was the real reason she’d returned to Tulips.

      What a faithless would-be-bride she’d turned out to be.

      Chapter Four

      “Duke, wait!” Liberty hurried after him as he strode down the street. Catching his arm, she made him stop so that she could catch her breath. Duke snatched his arm away from her grasp and her heart broke, even more than it had when he’d peeked around the saloon door, his face hopeful and trusting. “Please let me explain.”

      “There’s nothing to explain.” He headed for the jailhouse—his sanctuary—but she followed relentlessly.

      “If you would just wait a minute, Duke,” she said.

      “Obviously, I’ve been waiting too long.”

      There was a stitch in her side but she followed him into his office before he could somehow lock her out. She didn’t want to cause more of a scene than they already had, and she knew too well that a few dozen faces were tucked up against the windows of the Tulips Saloon, anxiously peering out. “Duke, can I just explain?”

      He turned on her. “Explain that you’re pregnant?” he demanded, his harsh voice tearing in her heart. She’d never seen his eyes so cold. “I don’t think that requires an explanation, Liberty. And I do think I now understand why I wasn’t invited to the shower.”

      “It wasn’t really a shower.” It had turned into one, but quite by accident, though she doubted he was in the mood to hear that.

      “So, everyone knew but me.” He looked at her, shaking his head in disbelief. “And I guess wearing the wedding gown the other day means you’re marrying that pup who was paying court at your feet.”

      She was astonished he would think such a thing. “Duke, that cowboy came with Valentine to help her deliver the cake. I didn’t know that Pansy and Helen had ordered one.” She put a hand on his arm. “Please hear me out. This has all gotten way out of hand.”

      “I don’t want to listen,” Duke said, and Liberty recognized the strong Duke, the one with all the stubborn opinions, marching in to stiffen his spine and his resolve. There’d be no talking to him now.

      “Just go on,” he told Liberty. “I can’t take any more drama. Honestly. In fact, I think I’ll let all of you schemers have my sheriff’s seat. I’ve got a hankering to live in the tropics around some beautiful beauties who just want to feed me pineapples all day.”

      Liberty blinked. Now was not the time to tell him, she realized with a pang. As mad as he was now, the truth would fall on dry, hard soil.

      “But congratulations. I guess,” he said.

      She sat on his desk. “You’re going to have to listen.”

      “Ah. A prisoner in my own jail. I don’t think I do have to listen.” He reclined in the old cracked leather chair, putting his boots up on the desk and covering his face with his hat.

      “Duke,” Liberty said, irritated, “this isn’t easy for me.”

      He was silent.

      “Must you be a troll?”

      She thought she heard snoring.

      She did hear snoring. His chest fell with rhythmic breathing, and she knew he really had nodded off, just like that, out of sheer determination to shut her out. “You’re the daddy,” she said softly, just to try out the words.

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