Genevieve felt a bit catatonic as they drove away from her parents’ house. The reaction she had expected and prepared for had not been the reaction they received. Jane was planning a reception and Lionel was planning for her uterus to be occupied by a strong Crawford baby. Their reactions had caught her off guard, that was true, but what had also caught her off guard was how terrible she felt by the deception of it all. Perhaps if Lionel and Jane had been upset about the elopement, as Genevieve had anticipated, then the inevitable divorce wouldn’t be such a big deal to them. Based on their reaction to the news of her nuptials, the divorce was going to crush them.
“Your mom is a total sweetheart.”
Knox’s comment broke through her reverie. She looked over at him as he pulled his truck into a parking spot at the Gold Rush Diner. She hadn’t seen her own truck since the day before but it seemed like a lifetime ago that she had parked in the lot behind the diner. So much had happened in a little more than a twenty-four-hour period it seemed a bit surreal to see her truck, so grounded in what used to be her old life.
“She’s always been my biggest fan.” Genevieve unbuckled her seat belt. “She really liked you.”
“I like her.”
All her life she had been acting out, getting in trouble, pushing the boundaries. Her motto had always been, Why blend in when we were born to stand out? For all of the trouble and angst she had caused her parents, she had never really felt guilty about it. Honestly, she had always been having too much fun. But this time was different. This time, she felt horribly guilty. She didn’t like the feeling.
“She was so happy,” she said quietly, pensively, hugging Silver to her body for comfort. “I didn’t expect that. Did you?”
“No.”
Genevieve caught Knox’s eye. “This is a whole lot heavier than I thought it would be.”
He nodded.
“I just didn’t think...” Her voice trailed off. Then, again, wasn’t that the point her mother tried to make with her again and again? Think before you act? Look before you leap? “We are going to hurt a lot of people, Knox.”
“I see that now.”
She had canceled her morning clients but her afternoon was full. She didn’t have time to dwell on the monumental mistake she had made by going through with the bet. Her mom was the sweetest, kindest soul she had ever met. Genevieve would never want to do anything to deliberately hurt her.
“I am a horrible person,” she said aloud even though the self-recriminating comment was really meant for her own ears.
Her husband reached over and squeezed her hand, and somehow, the strength and warmth of his fingers on hers, however brief, gave her temporary relief.
“You’re not a horrible person,” Knox said.
“Yes, I am,” she said firmly. “And so are you.”
She could feel Knox examining her profile before he turned to stare out the windshield, seemingly in thought. Finally, he said, hesitantly, “We can call this whole thing off now.”
She breathed in and let it out. “Trust me, I’ve thought of that already. We go to all of our family and say, hey, it was all a big joke.”
“And?”
“I don’t think we can, Knox. Not now. Max knows the marriage is real—he’s seen the certificate. If we tell them it was all just a hoax, we’ll end up looking like the biggest jerks on the planet. Do you want that?” She asked the question but she didn’t wait for him to respond. “Maybe we are the biggest jerks on the planet, but I’d rather not broadcast that to the planet. No. We’ve gotten our families involved and my mom is so excited to plan the reception. I think our only course of action is to plow forward. I think that we just have to keep going.”
She looked at her husband who didn’t seem to have anything to say in the moment. “People get divorced all the time, after all. We’ll just be another statistic. No one has to know how this started. No one has to know that this was never real.”
After he dropped Genevieve off at her truck, Knox returned to the Ambling A. Before they’d left the Lawrence homestead, Genevieve had gone up to her garage apartment and packed a few suitcases full of clothes and necessities. Knox carried the suitcases inside his cabin, realizing that this was the first time he’d ever moved a woman in with him. He’d never had any desire to live with the women he’d dated previously. Now, though, he was moving Genevieve into his life and he hardly knew her.
After he dropped off the suitcases in the living room, he went to work. In his mind, work was the only thing that was going to get his mind off his marriage. But that proved to be a false notion because by the time he got back to the ranch, the news of his elopement had spread like a fire on a windy day. Everywhere he went, ranch hands congratulated him or teased him about having a “ball and chain.” It seemed that no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t escape thoughts of his wife.
Genevieve returned to the Ambling A, well after dark. “Hey,” she called out as she entered the cabin.
“Hey,” Knox said from the kitchen. “You hungry?”
His wife looked weary and dirty from a day of work. Genevieve shut the front door behind her and leaned back against it, closing her eyes for the briefest of moments. “Starving.”
She opened her eyes and smiled down at Silver, who was jumping up and barking to get her attention. She scooped him up, hugged him tightly and then kissed him on the head before putting him down.
This was the first time Knox had experienced Genevieve returning home from work and he recognized, in himself, an odd happiness at seeing her walk through the door. He’d never thought that sharing his life full-time with a woman was a particularly appealing idea, which was why he’d always kept his relationships quick, light and uncomplicated. But, so far, in the short term, he liked sharing his life with Genevieve.
“That smells good.” She leaned her elbows on the counter, her eyes drooping down as if she could fall asleep standing upright.
“Why don’t you take a bath? Dinner will be done by the time you get out.”
Genevieve smiled at him wearily. “Where have you been all my life, Knox?”
“Texas.”
She left her truck keys on the kitchen counter and walked slowly, with Silver trailing behind her, toward the bedroom. A few minutes later he heard the bathroom door shut and the water in the tub running. All his life he had imagined who his wife would be, what she would look like, how many kids they would have. Perhaps that was why he was so offended when his father had tried to marry him off like he was part of a game show. Knox wanted to find a wife on his own terms, in his own time. It was true that one day, sooner rather than later, this marriage would end. One day, Genevieve would leave Rust Creek Falls for California as they had agreed. But for now, she was his friend and his wife and he may as well enjoy her company while he had it.
“How’s married life treating you?” Finn asked him on the way to the local feed store.
“Pretty good, actually,” Knox was surprised to say.
It hadn’t taken them long to form a pattern in their marriage—a rhythm of sorts—of how to cohabitate. Knox, who had learned to cook over campfires when he was a kid, didn’t mind whipping up what he liked to call “cowboy cuisine” because, as it turned out, Genevieve was barely able to boil water. His meals were stick-to-your-ribs, everything cooked in one pot kind of food, but his wife never complained. And, Genevieve didn’t mind doing the dishes, which suited him just fine.
After they ate, they would go out onto the porch and sit out in the rocking chairs, drink a beer and watch the sun set. It was the time when they shared the details of their days; it was a time when the early bond they had developed as friends seemed to grow deeper. It was a time in his day that he was really beginning to look forward to—his evenings with Genevieve. It was a bonus that, regardless of the strange circumstances of their current living arrangement, their friendship was the glue that allowed them to navigate the new strange waters in which they found themselves.
Knox pulled up to the feed store and shut off the engine. “How’s Viv Shuster’s dating service?”
Everyone in the family knew that Finn was fickle—he fell in and out of love as a hobby, it seemed. Knox had a feeling that the more women Viv sent Finn’s way, the more women he was going to want.
Finn grinned at him. “There’s a lot of beautiful fish in that sea, brother. A lot.”
“I believe the point is for you to settle on just one.”
His brother matched his pace as they entered the store. “This from the man who used to make chasing women an Olympic sport.”
Knox stepped up to the counter. “That’s not my game anymore.”
He heard the seriousness in his own voice when he said those words to Finn. The marriage wasn’t real, but his commitment to it was. For now, he was officially off the market. It was strange, but the thought of dating someone else after his divorce didn’t appeal to him. The only woman in his mind—the only woman he wanted to date—was his wife.
“What can I do for you?” a young man named Jace asked them from behind the counter.
“We’re gonna need 1000 pounds of alfalfa seed and 500 pounds of fertilizer,” Finn said.
“Can you put that on our account?” Knox asked. “The name is Crawford.”
The lanky cowboy behind the counter looked up from his task. “Oh, I know who you are.”
The way the guy was looking at him with narrowed eyes, and the unfriendly tone of his voice, caught Knox’s attention.
“Is that right?” Knox asked.
“That’s right.”
“What’s your problem?” Finn stepped up so he was shoulder to shoulder with him.
“I heard you married Genevieve.”
Genevieve had mentioned to him that her father had set her up on dates with just about every cowboy in a fifty-mile radius. It stood to reason that he was going to run into a couple of them now and again.
“That’s right,” he said, his tone was steady, his face unsmiling. He didn’t know where this was heading.
“I’ve known Genevieve since we were kids,” Jace told him.
“You don’t say.”
“I do say,” Jace snapped back at him. “There were a lot of guys around these parts who wanted to marry Genevieve.”
It stood to reason that Jace was one of the “guys” that had wanted a shot at lassoing the elusive Genevieve Lawrence.
“It don’t make no sense that Gen would go for a foreigner.”
Finn laughed. “We’re from Texas. You know that, right?”
“Like I said.” Jace scowled at them. “Foreigners.”
“Jace,” the owner of the Sawmill Feed and Seed interrupted the conversation. “Go on to the back and help Ben with the shipment.”
With one last scowl in his direction, Jace tossed his pen on the counter and headed to the back of the shop.
“Sorry about that,” the owner, a heavyset man wearing tan overalls, said. “The young men around here can get mighty passionate about our womenfolk.”
“No worries,” Knox said with a quick shake of his head, his expression neutral. “I’d be upset if I lost out on a woman like Genevieve.”
“Truer words have never been spoken, sir. Our Gen is the cream of the crop.”
Knox didn’t know why he felt compelled to do it, but he lifted up his left hand so the owner could see his wedding ring. “I suppose she’s my Gen now.”
“I suppose she is,” the owner agreed. “I’ll put this seed and fertilizer on your tab.”
“Thank you.” Knox tipped his hat to the man. “You have yourself a nice day.”
“My friends are still blowing up my phone.” Genevieve was sitting in the rocking chair next to him, Silver sitting in her lap and a half-drunk beer dangling in her fingertips. One leg was draped over the arm of the rocking chair, her cute bare toes within reaching distance of his hand.
Genevieve had decided the best way to announce their elopement to friends and extended family was en masse on social media. She had posted all of their wedding photos on her Instagram account and let the viral nature of social media do the rest of the work for them.
“Mine too.” Knox had expected some interest in their elopement, but he couldn’t go into town without someone stopping him to congratulate him or question him about his marriage to Genevieve. In the faces of some of the cowboys who approached him, he noted some downright jealousy that he, a Texas outsider, had managed to lasso the elusive Genevieve Lawrence.
“There are some pretty ticked-off people out there,” Knox said before he took a swig of his own beer.
Genevieve sat upright, shifting a chubby, floppy Silver in her lap. “Tell me about it! I’ve gotten some pretty nasty looks out there. And the comments on my business Facebook page from anonymous women? Someone actually called me a gold digger. A gold digger! There are people I’ve known all my life who have actually convinced themselves that I must be pregnant. Pregnant! As if I would automatically race into a marriage just because I was pregnant. I mean what century are we living in?”
“I know,” Knox agreed. “This whole thing has metastasized in a very strange direction.”
“That’s the truth. I didn’t see any of this coming.” She gave a little shake of her head. Their elopement had sent a shock wave through Rust Creek Falls. Genevieve nodded toward the wilderness that was their view. “Thank goodness for this.”
Genevieve had shared with him that the only place she felt completely insulated from some of the negative reactions to their elopement was his cabin. It had become a sanctuary of sorts. There was no judgment—there was no suspicion or jealousy. It was just the three of them, the woods, cowboy chow and a rocking chair. It had made him feel good that she had called the cabin her little slice of heaven on Earth. He had noticed that Genevieve had begun to end her days a little earlier than was her norm just to get home in time to share a dinner with him. When they got divorced, Knox wondered if she would miss these moments with him. He had a feeling that he was going to miss it—perhaps even more than he even knew.
“I sure as heck hope that Viv can get one of your other brothers tied down soon so the spotlight can get off us,” Genevieve said.
“Amen, Gen.” Knox lifted up his bottle. “I’ll drink to that.”
“What are you doing?” Hunter’s daughter, Wren, asked her.
Genevieve was standing on a step stool in the barn with an electric drill in her hand. “I’m getting these hooks into place so I can hang up my hammock.”
“Why?”
She finished drilling the hole and turned slightly toward the little girl. “Do me a favor, will you? Hand me that silver hook right there by your foot.”
Wren bent down and picked up the hook and held it out to her. “This one?”
Genevieve nodded. She slipped her drill into the tool belt on her waist and took the hook from Wren. “Thank you.”
“Why are you putting a hammock up in the barn?” the young girl asked again.
“Because I can, for one.” She leaned her body forward and twisted the hook into place. “And because I like to hang out with the horses and listen to them chew hay.”
Once the hook was fully seated in the hole she had drilled, Genevieve climbed down off the step stool and grabbed one end of the hammock lying on the ground. She hooked one side to the hook she’d just drilled into the barn wall and then hooked the other side onto a hook on the opposite wall.
“This is perfect,” she said, pleased. She now had a hammock that spanned the aisle of the barn. The Ambling A was her temporary home, she knew that even if the rest of the family didn’t, and the only place that felt comfortable was the cabin. Genevieve wanted to change that. The only other place that made her happy on the Ambling A was the barn; when she wasn’t at the cabin with Knox, she could spend some of her free time hanging out in the barn, relaxing in her hammock, listening to sound of the horses chewing their hay. That way, she would have two places on the Ambling A to call her own.
Wren watched her curiously as she leaned her hands on the hammock, testing to make sure that the hooks would hold.
“Seems stable enough.” She removed her tool belt and put it off to the side.
With a happy smile on her face, Genevieve carefully sat down into the hammock, letting it slowly take her weight. When the whole thing didn’t come crashing down, she leaned back, pushed her feet on the ground and then lifted her legs so the hammock would rock her back and forth.
“Oh, yes.” She sighed. “This is the life right here.”
“Can I get on?” Wren asked.
Genevieve sat up and stopped the hammock from rocking. “Sure.”
Wren climbed onto the hammock and mirrored Genevieve’s position. They both leaned back, legs dangling off the side of the hammock, their hands folded onto their stomachs. The hammock rocked gently back and forth and the only sound, other than the horses chewing their fresh pats of hay, was the creaking sound of the fabric rubbing against the metal hooks.
Genevieve sighed again, her eyes closed. She had always wanted to put a hammock up in a barn and this was her first real chance to do it.
“This is everything I ever thought it would be,” she said to Wren. “What do you think?”
“I like it,” her young companion said. “It’s fun.”
“It is fun.”
The two of them swung together in silence, relaxing in the hammock and enjoying the company of the horses. Of course, all good things must come to an end and for Genevieve, that end came when Wren said, “My grandpa is coming.”
Genevieve’s eyes popped open and her head popped up; she saw Maximilian appear in the aisleway and the sight of him made her frown. She had made it her personal challenge to avoid her father-in-law and she had been pretty successful. As it always did when she saw Max, her stomach tightened like it was cramping and a rush of discomfort traveled through her body. He made her feel nauseated and nobody liked to feel that way.
“Do you like the hammock, Grandpa?” Wren asked Maximilian.
“No.” There was that disapproving scowl Genevieve was accustomed to seeing. “I don’t.”
Her happy moment rudely interrupted by Knox’s father, Genevieve helped Wren out of the hammock and then stood up as well.
“I’d like a moment of your time, young lady,” Maximilian said to her as she took down the hammock.
The patriarch used the same tone as every school principal that had ever called her into their office, and every fiber of her being rebelled against that kind of tone.
“What can I do for you?” She stood with her hands on her hips, her eyes meeting his.
“Follow me.”
Genevieve had to work to keep up the long-legged stride of her father-in-law as she followed him down the long aisleway. Max marched out of the barn to a nearby round pen where his newly acquired prized stallion was standing next to his trainer.
“Move him around a little, John,” Max said to the trainer in a booming voice. “I want Miss Lawrence to see this.”
No, the marriage wasn’t actually real, but Max didn’t know that. The fact that he insisted on referring to her as Miss Lawrence irked her but she kept her mouth shut about it. Her focus was on the stallion. She had been waiting—anticipating—the moment when Max tried to pin something on her with the horses. She knew that he doubted her ability as a farrier. Was this the moment she had been preparing for all along? Was this the moment he tried to blame her for an injury to one of his horses?
The trainer asked the stallion to move to the outside track of the round pen. The stallion, a tricolored tan, white-and-black paint with a black-and-white tail and blue eyes, was a magnificent horse—young and full of thick muscle and energy. But even though he had vet-checked sound, when he arrived at the Ambling A, he was lame. At the trot, the stallion was still exhibiting some telltale head bobbing that indicated that he still had some lameness problems.
“Just look at that,” Maximilian said sternly. “John tells me you’re responsible for this.”
Genevieve bristled. “He was lame when he came off the trailer.”
“I’m aware of that,” her father-in-law was quick to retort.
“I didn’t make him lame.”
When Maximilian looked at her this time, Genevieve felt that he was seeing her for the first time. “I’m well aware of that, young lady.”
“Then I’m afraid I’m missing your point.”
Her father-in-law nodded toward the stallion. “He’s better. He’s not perfect, but he’s better. How did you manage to do that?”
Genevieve wasn’t often surprised, but this time she was caught completely off guard. She had been expecting, preparing for, an accusation. Not a compliment.
“His shoes were too tight, so I pulled them. He had an infection in all four hooves and I’ve almost got that cleared up. If we keep on going in this direction, I think we can get him sound and keep him barefoot.”
“You really think that you can get him sound?” Max asked her pointedly.
“Yes, sir. I do. It’ll take time, but I’ve gotten a lot worse back to sound with some time, patience and some holistic approaches.”
“Such as?”
“Acupuncture, for one.”
“That’s enough for now, John.” Maximilian waved his hand to the trainer. Then he turned his attention back to her. “I’ve got a lot of money tied up in that horse. Can you get him sound or not?”
“I can get him back to sound,” she told him.
“Then do whatever you need to do to get that done,” Max said without an equivocation, and for the first time, she saw respect for her in his eyes. The man said his piece and then walked away without waiting for her response. A few feet away, he stopped and turned back to her.
“I expect you’ll be at the family dinner tonight?”
Wren was listening, so Genevieve tempered her response. “I didn’t get an invitation.”
“Young lady, you don’t need an invitation. You’re family.” Max looked her dead in the eye. “I’ll expect you tonight. Come along, Wren.”
Wren gave her a little wave before she trotted after her grandfather.
Genevieve was still rooted in her spot, a bit stunned by the interaction with her father-in-law. She was still standing there mulling over the interaction when Knox cantered up on Big Blue. The cowboy swung out of the saddle, ground tied his gelding and came to her side.
“What was that all about?” Her husband smelled of horse, and leather and sweat and she liked it.
“That was bizarre,” she said. “Your father... He’s given me carte blanche to do what I think is best to get the stallion sound.”
Knox stared after his father, seeming as caught off guard as she felt.
“And he says he expects to see me at dinner tonight.”
Knox adjusted his cowboy hat on his head. “Crap.” They had both been happy to spend their dinners alone at the cabin in the woods—away from the spotlight—where they could be themselves and not pretend to be a crazy-in-love newlywed couple.
“My sentiments exactly,” she agreed.