Page 37 of The Cowboy's Forbidden Bride

When his phone buzzed he fished it out and was maybe more relieved to see Ryder’s story about mixing it up with a go-go dancer in Vegas than the story itself deserved.

I’m glad that you’re finding ways to manage your deep concern for Dad so productively, Wilder texted back.

Oh, I’m real productive, Ryder replied with a few suggestive emojis that made Wilder roll his eyes.You better believe it. Besides, I know that if anything changes there, you’ll let me know.

Funny you should mention that, Wilder wrote back without thinking through the ramifications. Or maybe he didn’t care if there were ramifications. Maybe because that grief was still sitting heavy inside him, all sharp edges and unbearable weight. Maybe because he thought Rydershouldworry more about the life he’d left behind too easily.As it happens, I’m getting married. And fast, so I sure hope you can work that into your busy schedule.

And it wasn’t a surprise when the phone rang about one second later. He debated not answering it because he knew that would irritate his brother, but something in him had shifted. It was something about the fact that he’d put that he was getting married into words. It felt a lot like the way he’d sat there outside his cabin last night, staring off into nothing.

It wasn’t that it was bad. It was that it was real.

Wilder had asked Cat Lisle to marry him and she’d said yes.

This wasreal.

When he answered the phone, it would be even more real.

“Did you get hit in the head?” Ryder demanded when Wilder picked up.

“You’re the one who gets dropped on his head all the time,” Wilder pointed out. “You tell me. Have you ever woken up after a run-in with an ornery bull, feeling all matrimonial?”

“If you want me to call home more, you should have said so.”

“I do say so. All the time. And that hasn’t gotten you to reach out. I was starting to think you never would.”

“Never fear, the next time you tell me potentially life-altering news, I’ll assume that you’re baiting me as usual and ignore it.” Ryder laughed. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a den of iniquity to lose myself in all over again—”

“Oh I wasn’t joking about the getting married part,” Wilder said, and he leaned back in his chair, suddenly feeling a little more… right with the world, maybe. Or with his decisions, anyway. And if poking at his twin was how he got there, well, he supposed that was because he’d been doing it since they’d been in their mama’s belly. “If I had to guess, I’d say the wedding will be about two weeks from now.”

That had been the general consensus last night, standing there in Jenny Lisle’s living room with Cat’s arm around him. He’d thought then that there were precious few things he wouldn’t do if Cat asked him to, and instead of being horrified at that, he’d… kind of liked it.

He knew better than to tell Ryder that, however.

“Who did you get pregnant?” Ryder demanded, sounding a lot as if Wilder had told him that he too was dying, and quicker.

And maybe that was why it didn’t sit right on him. Or maybe it was the very idea that he would ever have gone and gotten Cat knocked up, even though he knew perfectly well that no matter what he or she said, that was going to be the prevailing thought around here.

“Obviously I did not get anybody pregnant,” he told Ryder, witheringly. “I’m not an animal.”

He looked up then and saw that Belinda was standing in the doorway to the kitchen, her arms crossed and her brows raised. He had the urge to hang up the phone, but that wouldn’t change the reality here. It wouldn’t change anything, so he nodded at his stepmother. He wasn’t entirely surprised to see Harlan behind her.

“Why did you go all quiet?” Ryder asked in his ear. “Did you get drunk and elope? Was there a gun at your back? Is there a gun at your backnow? Or, wait, is this some kind of ransom situation?”

Wilder let his twin spin out on that theme, because the kitchen was getting crowded. He decided that it was better that way. He put Ryder on speaker and everyone else gathered around, Boone and Knox looking at each other and then out the window to where Zeke was standing, as if he come up to ask a question and it stopped dead because everyone else was, too.

Then they all stared at Wilder. A better man might have been nervous, but Wilder only lounged in his chair and smiled.

“I am not hung over or being coerced in any way,” Wilder said, and he was definitely not too far gone not to enjoy the various looks of confusion that flashed around the ranch house kitchen. “And nobody is pregnant. But I am delighted to announce that the biggest blood feud in Cowboy Point has come to a screeching finish, folks. Cat Lisle and I are getting married.”

And he let that sit a while, because he suspected that would take some digesting.

Maybe a whole lot of digesting.

“It’s nonnegotiable,” he added when he saw the faces around him change to a kind of incredulity that he was pretty sure would lead to raised voices in a moment. “And it was entirely my idea. In case anyone here gets the bright idea to mount a posse or something else equally embarrassing to go charge Lisle Hill.”

There was a silence. Even from the phone.

Wilder waited. And waited some more.

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