A Bride's Tangled Vows

“I don’t know. I don’t think I can, you know, share a bed with you.”

The way her voice trailed off told him how very uncomfortable she was, which only awakened images of making her very comfortable in a bed for two. But maybe he could find a way to make this work.

“Don’t worry. I’ll figure out a way around that.”

“Do you have any other choices for a wife?” she asked. “I didn’t really give you a chance to choose.”

Arguments? He had a few, but none that were effective. Excuses? A whole hay wagon full, but none he dared utter in the face of the threat to his mother’s well-being. Other women? He could think of many a delectable armful over the last ten years, but none interested in anything as mundane as marriage. He’d stayed far away from the home-and-hearth type.

“No,” he conceded, then stepped aside to let her pass. “I don’t think I could pay my assistant enough to move to the middle of nowhere and put up with me 24/7.”

“It’s hardly the middle of nowhere,” she said with a light tone as she scooted past, brushing the far wall in an attempt not to touch him again.

Which was just as well.

She continued, “We might not have the culture of New York City, but there’s still a movie theater, nice restaurants and the country-club set.” She kept that delicate face turned resolutely away as he followed her into the soft afternoon light of the kitchen. “Not something I’m that interested in, but to each his own.”

Interesting. “What do your parents think about that?”

“Who knows?” And who cares, her tone said. Could she really brush aside what her family thought that easily? Everything he’d seen since his return made him think she was family-focused. Her graceful appearance, fierce loyalty and career choice made her seem exactly like the marriage, kids and picket-fence type. All the more reason to keep his pants zipped around her.

What were they going to do about that bed? It was long moments later before she finally turned to face him, but for once the delicate lines of her face told him nothing.

“Honestly, Aiden, I want to help. This situation is uncomfortable at best, but for Lily...”

She’ll do anything. Her earlier question rang once more in his ears: Would he put aside his own selfish wants, his own desire to run far, far away for the second time, for the needs of his mother and his childhood home?

Would he?

* * *

Christina picked her way down the damp concrete steps in front of the stately Black Hills courthouse. Thunderstorms had blown through during the night, leaving a cool breeze that rustled through the Bradford pear trees lining the square. Her trembling body felt just as jostled as she followed Aiden and Canton. Were her feet really numb or was that just the shock of signing the papers?

“It’s official,” the probate judge had said, beaming with the pride of initiating a Blackstone marriage.

Luckily, it wasn’t truly official—she still had about a week before the marriage license came in to regain her senses, but picturing Lily at home, fragile yet safe in her bed, told Christina she wouldn’t change her mind.

She couldn’t turn her back on the friend who’d given up so much for her.

The three of them reached the bottom just as a group of local guys approached. Cleaned up from work in jeans and button-downs, they looked like what they were—small-town guys headin’ down to start their weekend with some fun at Lola’s, the local bar.

“Well, look at this, boys. It’s Aiden Blackstone, back from New York City.”

Christina cringed inside. Jason Briggs had to be the cockiest guy in Black Hills, and had the mouth to prove it. Not someone she wanted to deal with given her current edgy nerves.

“Jason.” Aiden acknowledged the other man with the single, short word. From his tight tone, Christina guessed his memories of Jason were anything but fond.

“Whatya doin’ back here?” Jason asked, as if it was any of his business. “Can’t imagine you showing up after all this time for a pleasure visit.” He glanced past Aiden to Christina. “Or is it?”

The guys with him snickered, causing Christina to tense. While Aiden didn’t seem like the “let’s solve this with our fists” type, Jason had been known to push lesser men over the edge. The differences between the two were clear. Aiden was perfectly at home in his dress pants and shoes, his own button-down tucked in and sporting the sheen of a silky material. He wasn’t the old-school business-suit type, but he looked like a sophisticated professional, while the dark, stylishly spiked hair and his brooding look gave him that creative edge that probably had the women of New York swooning like Southern belles.

She knew she was.

But in the midst of the other men, it was like comparing dynamite to ordinary firecrackers. Jason and his crew might be the big fish in this tiny pond, but Christina put her money on the shark invading their midst.

The metaphor proved apt as Aiden ignored their ribbing with the confidence of someone who couldn’t be beaten. “I’m here to take over my grandfather’s affairs, now that he’s become ill,” he said with quiet confidence, not mentioning the true purpose of this little visit to the courthouse.

It was Canton who stirred the waters. “Including the running of the mill,” he added.

Rumblings started from the back of the group, but Jason shrugged off the explanation with a smart, “Doubt he can fix what’s wrong any more than a good ol’ boy like Bateman can.”

“Who’s Bateman?” Aiden asked.

The men simply stared at him for a minute before Christina answered. “Bateman is the current day foreman at the mill.”

“Check it out,” Jason said, raising his voice just a bit. “Guy doesn’t even know who the foreman is, and he thinks he’s gonna stop all the bull that’s been going on over there.”

“I’m sure I’ll manage,” Aiden said, cool, calm and collected. Standing tall on the steps, his back braced and arms folded across his chest, giving him the presence of a leader.

Jason held his gaze for a moment, probably an attempt to stare Aiden down, then shifted his cocky eyes to Christina. A weaker target. She fought the urge to ease behind Aiden’s strong back for protection. Jason was older than she was by a few years, but that hadn’t stopped him from hitting on her when they were teenagers. He hadn’t appreciated her rejection, and now enjoyed hassling her whenever they met. “I guess you filled him in, huh, sweet cheeks? Is that all you gave him? Information?”

Confident he’d gotten a few good jabs in, Jason decided he was done with them. With a self-assured jerk of his head, he got the whole crew moving like the lemmings they were.

Aiden watched them go before asking, “So he works out at the mill?”

Canton replied before Christina could. “Yes. His father is in management, I believe.”

“That’s not going to help him if he ever talks to Christina like that again.”

Startled, Christina eyed Aiden’s hard jaw and compressed lips. She’d never had a champion before, at least, not one capable of doing much in her defense. That Aiden would punish Jason on her behalf...she wasn’t sure how to feel about that.

Christina frowned after the departing group. Maybe she had more of her mother’s tastes than she’d wanted to admit. None of the local guys had ever interested her much. Jerks like Jason who thought they were God’s gift to the women of this town didn’t help. But Aiden’s quietly sophisticated, confident aura made her stomach tighten every time she saw him. Which was trouble, big trouble. Especially when she started looking to him for more than just that tingling rush.

Glancing back at the men, she found Aiden watching her intently. Her cheeks burned. Please don’t let him be able to guess my thoughts.

“What’s he talking about?” Aiden asked.

Was he asking her? Why not the lawyer? But the direction of Aiden’s stare was plain.

“Well, I know there’ve been some problems out at the mill. Strange things happening. Shipments delayed or missing altogether. Perfectly good equipment breaking unexpectedly. Things like that.”

“Sabotage?” Aiden asked with narrowing eyes.

Canton broke in. “Absolutely not. Just a coincidence, is all.”

But Christina wasn’t about to lie to the person she hoped would be able to fix it. “Some people say it is. But there’s no proof of anything. Still, people in the town are starting to get antsy, superstitious, worried about their jobs—”

Canton cleared his throat, shooting her a “shut your mouth” glare. “Everything will be fine once they realize a strong Blackstone is back at the helm.”