Two in the Saddle

But Gwen would not swoon. By God, she would not swoon.

As Matty joined Sebastian at the altar, Gwen sneaked a peek at Travis to see how he was getting along with Elizabeth. He was rumpled and damned sexy-looking from dealing with the baby. He’d removed his boutonniere, probably so Elizabeth wouldn’t stick herself on the pin or try to eat the rosebud. Gwen was impressed with his caution.

Continuing to keep the baby entertained, he played nosey-nosey with her, and she chuckled, a low sound of feminine delight. No doubt about it, Travis had a way with the fairer sex, regardless of age.

On a hunch, Gwen glanced around the small church. The men were watching the ceremony. But as she’d expected, the women, ranging from eight to eighty, were watching Travis. From their expressions of open adoration, Gwen figured Travis would be booked up for the rest of the summer on the basis of this one little scene.

Well, good. The busier he was, the less chance she’d have of running into him. And she wanted to steer clear of Travis Evans. She certainly did. Definitely. The sexual tingle she felt every time she looked at him would go away eventually, especially if she didn’t have to look at him very often. This wedding would be the worst of it. After today, she’d have clear sailing.

But today was a challenge, because she caught herself constantly glancing over at Travis, right along with every other woman in the church. He was strong medicine, especially with that baby.

Maybe he realized the baby was a terrific prop. That thought gave her some comfort. If he was using the baby to get women’s attention, then that made him…calculating. She had no use for a calculating man. Yes, he probably had ulterior motives for holding Elizabeth. What a grandstander, playing with that baby and making every woman in the place drool.

“Gwen,” Matty whispered.

Gwen blinked.

“The ring,” Matty said, her tone amused.

Hot embarrassment flooded through Gwen. She’d lost her place in the proceedings. “Coming right up,” she murmured as she reached in the buggy, found the small box she’d put there and took out the ring. She’d planned to have it ready and waiting when the time came, but she’d become so absorbed with Travis, she’d blown her assignment. Damn that tuxedo-wearing, baby-holding cowboy, anyway.

With new determination she focused on Sebastian and Matty. From her position she could only see the back of Matty’s head, golden curls covered in white tulle. But with her height advantage she could peer right over Matty and watch Sebastian’s face.

And sure enough, he was giving his new bride The Look. Gwen couldn’t define it exactly, but it was a potent combination of love, respect, devotion, lust, appreciation, and a few more emotions she hadn’t identified yet. Sebastian’s expression left no doubt in anyone’s mind that Matty was his one and only.

The lump returned to Gwen’s throat. If she were completely honest with herself, she’d have to say that no one, not even her ex, had ever given her The Look. She wondered if she’d go through life without ever experiencing such a moment.

Pull yourself together she lectured herself. Count your blessings. She lived in a gem of a Victorian house and had been lucky enough to keep it after the divorce by opening a bed and breakfast. It turned out she loved the business, although at times she wondered if caring for her guests only took the place of caring for the family she’d always wanted.

But the house gave her roots. The itinerant life of her archeologist parents wasn’t for her, and she’d hated the constant moving as a child. She tallied each year spent in Huerfano with pride, and she was now up to seven, more years than she’d ever stayed in one place in her life.

Maybe running a B&B didn’t stack up well against her parents’ international reputation, or her brother’s prestigious job running a museum in Boston. Maybe they sometimes reminded her that she was twenty-nine and hadn’t done anything with her life. But she wasn’t giving up her house, no matter what anybody said.

“You may kiss the bride,” Pete McDowell said.

A collective sigh went up from the congregation as Sebastian lifted Matty’s veil and cupped her face in his big rancher’s hands.

The tender moment lasted long enough to bring a mist of tears to Gwen’s eyes. Then Elizabeth began chortling and wiggling in Travis’s arms.

Scene-stealer, Gwen thought, and she wasn’t sure whether she meant Elizabeth or Travis. She wondered what would happen with that little baby. Her mother, Jessica Franklin, seemed to be on the run from something or someone and wanted her daughter out of danger. Jessica had been gone for six weeks, long enough for Matty and Sebastian to bond with Elizabeth.

Personally, Gwen figured Travis was the baby’s father, not Sebastian. But in the event Jessica never returned, Sebastian and Matty would provide a better home for the little girl than a playboy like Travis. Even Travis agreed on that point. Still, he seemed quite possessive of the baby and argued every time Sebastian tried to claim paternity.

But neither of them would find out who was Elizabeth’s father until Jessica chose to tell them. She’d called a few times to check on Elizabeth, but she’d never stayed on the line long enough to answer any questions.

Gwen had never encountered something this strange, but maybe Jessica knew what she was doing. Elizabeth was safe and surrounded by people who loved her, including Gwen, although she was trying not to get too attached.

She’d learned detachment during a childhood of constant moving, losing both friends and familiar surroundings. So she’d kept in mind that Jessica could appear at any time and take the baby away, although she might have a fight on her hands at this point. Even from Travis. And he was good with the baby, Gwen admitted grudgingly. Still, he couldn’t be counted on. Not in the long run.

“I give you Mr. and Mrs. Sebastian Daniels,” Pete McDowell said in his deep, booming voice.

The congregation broke into applause and Sarah Jane launched into the recessional.

Gwen blinked back tears as Matty and Sebastian walked back down the aisle, arm in arm. She was so happy for her friend. And maybe a little sorry for herself, but she’d get over it.

Then she looked across at Travis. With sentiment running high at this moment, she was in no shape to deal with him, but deal with him she must.

It wouldn’t be for long. A walk down the aisle, a dance at the reception, and she’d be free of her obligation to fraternize with him. And it would be good riddance.

She pushed the buggy toward the center aisle. As Travis met her there with Elizabeth, Gwen inclined her head toward the buggy, indicating Travis could put Elizabeth back inside.

“I don’t want to risk it,” he murmured.

“Suit yourself.” Pushing the buggy required two hands. During rehearsal they’d linked arms and each put a hand on the wooden handle to push the buggy back down the aisle.

But that wouldn’t work now. Travis couldn’t hold the baby, link arms with Gwen, and lend a hand pushing the buggy, so Gwen decided they could forego linking arms. Just as well.

She used both hands to push the buggy, expecting Travis to simply fall in step beside her. Instead he shifted Elizabeth to his outside arm and slipped his free arm around Gwen’s waist. Instantly her heart started chugging like a freight train.

“That’s not necessary,” she said, a smile pasted on her face for the benefit of the congregation. Looks of envy came shooting at her from all sides.

“Yes, it is.”

“No, it’s not.” She tried to ease away. She was entirely too close to him and his spicy aftershave, especially after she’d just witnessed the emotional joining of her two best friends.

“Yes, it is.” His grip tightened at her waist, sending shock waves all through her body. “We’re supposed to look as if we’re together.”

“Casually together, not plastered together.” Oh, but his hand felt good right there. She registered the imprint of each of his fingers through the soft material of her dress.

“Take it easy, sweetheart.”

“I am most definitely not your sweetheart.” And if her nerves jumped at his words, that was only because nobody had spoken an endearment to her in a while.

“Too bad for both of us. Listen, I know you hate me and this is torture for you, but we’re almost done.”

Oh, it was torture, all right. Torture of the highest order. And how she wished that hate was the emotion she was feeling for this man.

2

TRAVIS HAD ACTED on impulse, tucking Gwen against him as they proceeded up the aisle. Pure devilment had made him do it, probably, knowing how much she loathed him. Funny, though, once they were hip to hip, he felt her tremble.

He recognized that tremble. Women tended to do that when he touched them, but he wouldn’t have expected that reaction from Gwen, who’d let him know she wasn’t even slightly interested.

So when she started squawking about his behavior he held her tighter, to test her reaction to increased contact. Sure enough, that quiver got worse, and her skin flushed pink.

He noticed the color in her cheeks, and because he was a healthy male animal, he also noticed the color spread to the swell of her breasts above the green material of her dress. The way he figured it, if a woman chose to wear a neckline like that, she could expect a man to look his fill. He indulged for as long as he dared, which was only a few seconds, considering he and Gwen were in a very public place.

When he forced himself to look away, he was trembling a bit himself. Fantasies of unzipping her dress and sampling those generous breasts swirled through his mind, affecting his breathing.