Page 42 of Falling for the Cowgirl
Jericho could hardly see, the pain in his face making the room spin.
Wyatt’s thundering steps neared the front, and he grabbed on to Flynn before he could slam into Jericho and take him down. Flynn strained against his older brother, but Wyatt wrestled him back, his arms bulging and his shirt straining.
“What in the name of all that’s holy do you think you’re doing?” Wyatt’s yell filled the small chapel, which was quickly filling with other family members.
Flynn shook his hand, his knuckles red and no doubt smarting. “Caught Jericho taking advantage of Ivy.”
“He wasn’t takin’ advantage of me!” Ivy stood in front of Jericho still wearing only her chemise, her bodice discarded and on the floor next to the linen band he’d helped her untangle.
Jericho almost groaned. This looked bad. No wonder Flynn seemed angry enough to commit murder.
“Jericho’s an honorable man.” Ivy lifted her chin and stared at Flynn and Wyatt, ignoring the rest of her family.
Jericho swiped up her bodice from the floor and draped it across her shoulders. Her eyes widened, and she grasped the item around her, trying to shield herself from the onlookers, pink staining her cheeks.
Wyatt gave a long, meaningful look at Greta, who nodded and ushered the children and others from the chapel.When the door closed, leaving only Wyatt and Flynn, Ivy’s shoulders deflated.
“If he’s so honorable,” Flynn spat the words, “why’s he in here taking off your clothes?”
“He’s not!” Ivy clutched the bodice tighter. “This ain’t what it looks like. Jericho was helping me get dressed. It’s the honest truth—”
“Hush up, Ivy!” Flynn shot her a glare. “You’re in a heap of trouble.”
“She’s not to blame.” Jericho couldn’t stand back and let Ivy take Flynn’s censure. He’s the one who deserved it, not her.
“I don’t want to hear it from you.” Flynn’s voice could have frozen a washbasin full of water in the high heat of summer. “You lied to me. Straight-out lied.”
Was Flynn referring to the night at the bog when he’d said he wasn’t interested in Ivy? He hadn’t exactly lied. He just hadn’t expected the interest he’d been fighting would flare up so quickly and so passionately.
“Listen, Flynn—”
“Nope, you listen, Jericho. You told me you didn’t have any intentions toward Ivy. In fact, you looked me in the eyes and said you wouldn’t let anything happen between the two of you.”
Ivy shifted and glared at him. “You said that?”
Flynn nodded. “He guaranteed it.”
Wyatt had released his hold on Flynn and now crossed his arms and stared bullets into Jericho too. With all three McQuaids mad at him, things were bound to go from bad to worse.
“I didn’t mean for this to happen.” Jericho glanced from one brother to the other. “It was a mistake—”
“Mistake?” Ivy’s question contained a hint of hurt and anger.
“I shouldn’t have—” Jericho lowered his voice. “I shouldn’t have kissed you, Ivy. Not here. Not like this.”
“Not like ever,” Flynn said.
Ivy squared up with her brother as though preparing to go to war. “Don’t you start tellin’ me who I can and can’t kiss.”
“No one.” Flynn’s tone was hard. “Never.”
“I’ll kiss who I want and when I want.”
“Absolutely not.”
“You did.” Ivy clutched at her bodice, but not before Jericho caught sight of the tremble in her fingers. “I saw you smooching with Helen Fairchild plenty of times in the haymow—”
“That was a mistake—”
