Her Wildest Wedding Dreams. Celeste Hamilton

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СКАЧАТЬ pretty lady. That’s right. Right here.” Noah Raybourne sighed his approval as he ran a hand down the mare’s sleek, ebony coat. Royal Pleasure stomped her front legs and turned her regal head toward him, her breath rising like a cloud in the cool morning air.

      The grizzled Franklin ranch boss, Jake Keneally, scratched his beard. “It’s almost as if she knows you.”

      “Maybe she recognizes family.”

      Jake peered at him in puzzlement.

      “Her mama’s sire belonged to my father,” Noah explained, stroking the mare’s velvety nose. “Carmen’s Best Boy was born and bred on Raybourne Farms. He was named for my mother.”

      “I knew the horse,” Jake replied. “But he belonged to a breeder over toward Dallas.”

      Familiar anger tightened Noah’s gut. “My stepfather sold him out from under us.”

      The ranch boss apparently had enough firsthand knowledge of troubles to keep from prying. He grunted and gave Royal Pleasure a loving stroke of his own. “I won’t say I’m glad to see this beauty leave us, but it’s good to hear she’s going where she’ll be appreciated.”

      “That she will.” Noah took Royal Pleasure’s lead and walked her toward his horse trailer, talking gently to her all the while.

      With a minimum of fuss, she was loaded aboard the white trailer emblazoned with an ornate R in black script.

      Noah tossed his duffel bag on the front seat of his truck and turned to shake Jake’s hand. “Thanks for your help. I especially appreciate the grub and the comfortable bed last night.” He gestured toward the camper on his truck bed. “More than a few nights in this thing can get pretty old.”

      With a final wave, Noah swung into the driver’s seat and was on his way. The sun, though not yet visible, was lighting the eastern horizon as he stopped at the gate. A uniformed guard, different from the man he had seen last night, stepped up to the window with a clipboard in hand. “Hello, Mr. Raybourne. Jake called to say you were headed out.”

      “You folks take security seriously round here, don’t you?” Noah commented with a smile.

      The guard gave him a steady, measuring look. “Mr. Franklin is pretty clear about how he wants things handled.”

      “I’m sure he is.” Noah imagined Roger Franklin was crystal clear about all matters affecting his family, his business and holdings.

      The guard made a notation on his clipboard, then stepped back and studied the truck and trailer for a moment. Apparently reassured there was no reason to conduct a search, he opened the automatic gate and waved Noah through.

      The whole operation amused Noah. He understood that a rich man might have some security concerns, but this place was set up like a fortress. Maybe the extra precautions were in place because of that big party they had last night. Jake had told him Franklin’s daughter was getting married today.

      Peering at the golden glow on the horizon and at the sky, which was changing from gray to blue, Noah muttered, “Looks like beautiful weather for a wedding.” He met his own gaze in the rearview mirror. “Sure hope it goes better than mine.”

      If things had gone as planned, he and Amy would have celebrated their third anniversary a couple of weeks ago. Noah’s mother had blamed the passage of that date on the foul mood that had gripped him of late. She was wrong, Noah told himself. He was well and truly over Amy. He had gotten beyond being left at the altar. Only rarely did he think about having to walk out into that church and announce to everyone that the girl he loved had changed her mind about hitching her star to a struggling horse breeder whose only debt-free asset was the fire burning in his belly.

      Realizing he gripped the steering wheel with undue force, Noah made himself relax. Maybe his mother was right, after all. Perhaps his foul mood wasn’t just the result of too much work and worry. He had been thinking about Amy. Her engagement to a successful Nashville businessman was announced last month. The news had started Noah questioning himself. Had what Amy wanted really been so wrong?

      Before they were to marry, she had asked Noah to sell a half interest in his operation to her father. The capital would have provided Noah with the means to rebuild much of the farm and breeding business his irresponsible stepfather had tried to destroy. The money would also have allowed them to redo the farmhouse and live in the sort of comfort to which Amy was accustomed.

      But Noah had wanted them to rebuild the farm themselves, as a team, working as his parents once had and as his grandparents before them. Though he knew Amy’s father to be a good, honest man, he was fearful of letting an outsider have any say in the farm his grandfather had founded and his father had run so successfully. The only other outsider to interfere in Raybourne Farms had almost ruined it. Noah couldn’t do what Amy asked.

      She had called him a pigheaded, prideful fool, and they had argued. But he had still believed she loved him and intended to go through with the wedding. He had underestimated her fears about living on the limited means he had to offer. After all the other embarrassment his family had endured in the community, Noah still couldn’t believe she had left him standing at the altar. But she had.

      Her willingness to humiliate him in such a public way should have Noah thanking his lucky stars to have escaped marriage to her.

      But on those days when he worked his body to weary numbness, when he faced a lonely night at home, when he awoke to an empty bed, Noah wasn’t so sure he was lucky.

      Struggling to clear the clouds of regret from his brain, he turned onto the main highway, heading east, toward home. He was going to avoid the high speeds of the interstate, keep to the secondary highways and stop as often as possible to stretch Royal Pleasure’s legs. That beauty was an integral part of his plans for Raybourne Farms. She had cost him the better part of his bank balance, and he wasn’t taking any chances with her.

      The sun was fast revealing the East Texas landscape. He shook his head. Some people might find this land appealing, but he’d take the rolling green meadows of Middle Tennessee any day.

      He rested his elbow on the open window. A squeak sounded from behind. Followed by another. And still another. He eased up on the accelerator and leaned back, listening intently, then peered in the side mirror for signs of trouble with the trailer. He saw nothing.

      Once more Noah relaxed and began to whistle.

      Hours passed before the squeak returned. Then grew in volume. And Noah recognized the sound for what it was—the insistent yapping of a dog.

      “What the hell?” He carefully eased the truck and trailer off the road, got out and hurried around to throw open the door at the back of the truck.

      He heard a shout of warning.

      Something small and furry bounced against his chest, sending him stumbling against the trailer. Then something else barreled past Noah. It was a boy…no, those breasts and that rounded rear end were most definitely feminine. They belonged to a young woman. She was dressed in jeans, T-shirt and baseball cap and was calling, “Puddin’, you stupid dog. Puddin’! Come here.”

      Noah straightened in time to peer around the truck and see the dog relieve itself in a patch of grass beside the road.

      “Oh, Puddin’,” the young woman crooned. СКАЧАТЬ