The Accidental Bride by Denise Hunter Page A

nothing but a downhill slope to ruin. Without the cattle, she’d have no means of income.
    Twenty minutes later her cell vibrated in her pocket. She pulled the last block to the edge of the bed, then checked her phone.
    â€œHey, sweetie.”
    â€œMaddy invited me to supper. That okay?”
    She could hardly blame her daughter. Rice and beans were getting pretty old. “It’s okay with Wade and Abigail?”
    â€œYeah.”
    â€œAll right. Be back before dark or call for a ride.”
    â€œThanks, Mom!”
    Shay said good-bye, turned off the phone, then hoisted the salt block. She didn’t deserve her daughter’s gratitude. She’d promised herself she wouldn’t give Olivia more chores than she already had. Yet the girl had been out here all week while all her peers were swimming in the creek or taking shopping excursions to Billings.
    She knew just how that felt, and darned if her daughter was going to live that way. Help me, Jesus. Provide what we need soon. We’re down to the wire, You know .
    Her phone pealed. Probably Olivia again. It took a few seconds to balance the salt block on her thigh and check the caller ID. Unknown Number .
    Another collector. They just wouldn’t leave her alone. Wasn’t she trying her best? She could only do so much.
    She shifted the block on her thigh and pocketed the phone. The salt block teetered on her leg, then slipped from her gloved hand. It hit her foot with a dull thud.
    The pain came a full second later, shooting through her foot with a force that buckled her leg. Shay bit down on her lip, stifling a groan as she lowered herself to the ground. She pulled her knee to her chest and grimaced.
    She’d really done it now. She propped her foot on the cussed salt block, hoping to alleviate the throbbing. She’d likely just bruised the muscle or something.
    It was already feeling a little better, wasn’t it? She clamped her teeth down hard. Help me, Jesus. I do not need an injury right now, and I sure as shooting don’t need a doctor bill .
    If she just breathed, focused on something else, the pain would ebb away, and she could get back to work.

    Travis removed his hat, wiped his forehead, and replaced the hat. Buck started toward the pen, but Travis pulled the reins the other direction. “Not today, buddy. Got an errand.” Not a fun one, but necessary. And long overdue.
    He cut across the pasture, then crossed the shallow creek that divided their properties. The creek where they used to meet on hot summer days and cool autumn evenings. They’d carved their initials on a big oak on the day he’d asked her to be his girl. It still showed; he’d already checked.
    He wondered if Shay had cooled her heels. He’d given her nine days, but now he wondered if the anger had only festered since he’d left her on the town square lawn with Beau Meyers.
    He nudged Buck into a canter as they peaked the slope of the creek bank—as if saving two minutes was going to help matters. In the old days when she got her dander up, he just let her get it all out. She kicked up a ruckus and eventually the anger drained away, leaving her spent.
    Once during their junior year, she’d caught him flirting with Marla Jenkins. When he’d tried to steal a kiss from Shay after school, she’d shoved him into his locker.
    Later, by the creek, she’d broken into tears, and he’d held her while she sobbed, feeling like all kinds of fool for hurting her. Her emotions had always run high. But not until you got close. Until then, she was a tall, prickly fence.
    He’d broken through that fence, and two years later he’d gone and hurt her good. His gut ached even now just thinking about what a royal fool he’d been, leaving her in Cody. His errand to Kmart for cheap rings had turned into a desertion of the worst kind.
    And fourteen years later you’re going to ask for her forgiveness?
    Not that he