Wildflower Bride in Dry Creek

“Oh,” Angelina said and felt the rest of the air go out of her. The gravestone might not be her biggest worry.

The sheriff chuckled again and turned to her. “You best take him out to the ranch so he can see how things are. And won’t Mrs. Hargrove be out there rehearsing her prayer?”

“You’re having someone pray over me?” Tyler asked, clearly alarmed. “I don’t have much to do with church and praying, you know.”

“Well, you will at your funeral,” Angelina snapped. She was trying to learn patience, but, really, she had meant the service as a kindness to him. “That poor woman prayed for you every day when you were in the military so you can accept a few words at your funeral. She said she’d prayed for you as a boy and she wasn’t about to stop when you needed it most.”

“She did?” Tyler seemed surprised. “I always liked her. She used to carry lemon drops in her apron pocket for all us kids.”

“Well, I want you to know that Mrs. Hargrove kept right on praying for you even when they said you were dead,” Angelina continued. “That’s why I thought we needed some kind of a service. Lots of people here were praying once they found out you were in the military and they needed closure so they could say goodbye.”

Tyler looked stunned. “Why would people pray for me? I never went to the church here—well, except for that one time to Sunday school in the basement. I thought they’d chase me off if I tried to go to the upstairs meetings. My brothers and I were troublemakers. Everyone knew that.”

“You were soldier of the month in the prayer chain four times last year,” the sheriff said. “They had your picture in the bulletin recently and everything.”

Angelina thought the lawman was enjoying this a little too much.

“How did they get a picture of me?” Tyler asked, looking bewildered. “I had just turned thirteen when my brother and I were sent to that state group home. And I don’t think anyone took my photo back then anyway.”

Sheriff Wall seemed to take delight in pointing to her.

“I gave them the photo,” she confessed. Really, it was no big deal. She’d taken pictures of everyone she hung out with in high school. She might have a few more of Tyler than the other students, but that was just because he was always there.

In addition to the closure with Tyler, part of the reason she’d come to Dry Creek was that she remembered him describing the community. This place had always felt like home to her even though she’d never seen it. The church. The small café. The town was like some distant Camelot just waiting for her. Besides, something was going on in her father’s house in Boston and she didn’t want to stay there. The staff kept whispering and no one would tell her why.

“You go to the church?” Tyler asked her.

“I plan to become a woman of deep faith,” she said. She and Mrs. Hargrove were reading the New Testament together. “At least as deep as possible, with God’s help.”

Tyler looked pained. “You’re not becoming a nun or anything are you?”

“Are you working for my father?”

Tyler nodded.

“Then you must know I’ve become a Christian.” She tried to keep the annoyance out of her voice. Being patient was a hard virtue to learn, but she was determined. “I want to know what God wants me to do with my life, not only what my father wants.”

“Your father is concerned about you and he’s also worried about your trust fund. Said you’d mentioned giving it away.”

“I said I might set up a charitable foundation. Really, my father never paid any attention to me when I was growing up. And now that I’m doing something responsible, he gets all protective.”

“He wants what’s best for you.”

She forced herself to smile and continue. “I have a perfectly ordinary job as a relief cook for the Elkton ranch. Their regular cook is taking care of her ill mother up in Oregon. It was last minute, so they were glad to get someone to fill in for her. I go to church in Dry Creek on Sunday and I read the Bible. That’s my life here.”

“Well,” Tyler said, looking down like there was something interesting about his boots. “Your father said the other reason you’re out here is that you’re supposed to marry some Daryl guy, but you have cold feet.”

“Derrick,” she corrected him with more force than was probably necessary. “His name is Derrick Carlson and my feet are perfectly fine.”

“So what’d the guy do?” Tyler asked, looking up at her.

The sheriff cleared his throat again. Angelina had forgotten the lawman was there.

“I’ll just go take Prince for a walk,” the sheriff said.

“You don’t need to leave,” she told him and then turned back to Tyler. “I have no secrets. Derrick didn’t do anything. Nothing at all. I barely know the man. He asked my father for his permission to marry me. I’m afraid my father is suffering from some stress-related problem. I had to try some wedding dress on just to calm him down. And he booked a small church for the ceremony—he actually scheduled it. He gets so agitated when I say I’m not marrying Derrick that I’m afraid he’s going to have a heart attack.”

“Your father says he’s just concerned about your future.”

Angelina folded her arms. “He’s anxious about something, all right. But it’s not me.”

“Maybe he just wants you to get to know this Daryl guy.”

“It’s Derrick. He wears Armani suits and plays golf with my father. I doubt he even wears T-shirts on the weekend.”

“Well, that’s not a crime,” Tyler said. “And he might have a problem with expressing himself.”

“He’s my father’s lawyer. How much of a problem could he have?”

She glanced over at the sheriff. The man was inching away from them.

Angelina turned back to Tyler. She didn’t have time to worry about making the sheriff squirm. “I think Derrick needs to be investigated. Who was that guy who used to sneak around and find out things for you anyway? You always made him do that before I could date anyone.”

“Clyde?” Tyler looked surprised. “I don’t know if he’s still in business. And that was high school. It was easy to find out who the jerks were back then. Clyde just hung out in the lunchroom when you weren’t around and listened to what they said. He always charged me for his lunch, too, by the way.”

“Well, maybe Clyde can investigate Derrick. And have him check into my father, too.”

Tyler scowled at her. “Again? I thought you would have learned to trust your father by now.”

Angelina willed herself to take a breath. “This isn’t like high school. I’m not asking you to investigate my father because I want to get his attention. I really think something’s wrong. Maybe Derrick is blackmailing him and that’s why my father is insisting I marry the man.”

“What would he have on your father?”

“I don’t know, “Angelina tried to stay calm. “But even though my father is, well, my father—he could still have this secret life I don’t know anything about.”

“I thought we settled that. You’re not adopted. And your father doesn’t have another family hidden away somewhere.”

“But you always told me to trust my intuition. And something’s wrong.”

Tyler closed his eyes. “I meant you should pay attention to your surroundings. If you thought the bush was moving, assume it was.”

“Well, the bush is moving—it’s my father.”

“That’s not—” Tyler started and then stopped. “Fine. If it makes you feel better, I’ll call Clyde.”

“Thank you.”

“As I remember, Clyde was taking classes to earn a finance degree,” Tyler said. “Claimed he wanted to end up on Wall Street. He’s probably wearing an Armani suit himself now.”