Baker Yvonne Niles has nothing in common with cowboy Chaz Walker—except the upcoming marriage of her aunt to his stepdad. Convinced the two aren’t right for each other, Chaz and Yvonne are determined to halt the wedding. But between the cake and family drama, they’re discovering an undeniable attraction. Can an unlikely match ever become a recipe for happiness?

ALLIE PLEITER, an award-winning author and RITA® Award finalist, writes both fiction and nonfiction. Her passion for knitting shows up in many of her books and all over her life. Entirely too fond of French macarons and lemon meringue pie, Allie spends her days writing books and avoiding housework. Allie grew up in Connecticut, holds a BS in speech from Northwestern University and lives near Chicago, Illinois.

Alos By Allie Pleiter

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His Surprise Son

Snowbound with the Best Man

Wander Canyon Courtship

Blue Thorn Ranch

The Texas Rancher’s Return

Coming Home to Texas

The Texan’s Second Chance

The Bull Rider’s Homecoming

The Texas Rancher’s New Family

Lone Star Cowboy League: Boys Ranch

The Rancher’s Texas Twins

Lone Star Cowboy League

A Ranger for the Holidays

Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk

Wander Canyon Courtship

Allie Pleiter

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ISBN: 978-1-474-09674-4

WANDER CANYON COURTSHIP

Published in Great Britain 2019

by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollins Publishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.

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He couldn’t breathe properly with her staring at him like that...

“You okay?”

“Yeah, sure.” Yvonne’s voice was breathless.

A curl of panic gripped Chaz. “You need to be careful around livestock,” he said in the most practical tone he could muster with the small tornado in his chest.

“Good to remember.” Her awestruck tone took on a whole new timbre, which only added to his panic.

“So, that’s the herd and the ranch.” The absurd pronouncement made him want to whack his head.

“I see why you love it so much.” She seemed as desperate to fill the air between them with words as he was. “It’s beautiful.”

It was as if every single detailed memory left a mark. “We should head back. Lunch will be ready and then we’ll head into town.”

“Sure,” she said a bit too brightly as she settled herself into the passenger seat. “No problem at all.”

That was where she was wrong.

Because Chaz didn’t like the idea of Yvonne being anywhere in Wander Canyon—anywhere in Colorado for that matter—without him...and that was a very big problem indeed.

Dear Reader,

I hope you’ve become as fond of Matrimony Valley as I have. The town and its residents have become like dear friends I’m reluctant to leave. I want to know I can always stop into Marvin’s for ice cream and good advice, or indulge in Hailey’s scrumptious waffle breakfasts at the Inn Love.

Good stories stay in our hearts long after we close the cover of the book. Keep watch, dear reader, for I have it on good authority that Wander Canyon will do the same very soon. After all, we haven’t yet met all the unique creatures on the carousel, have we? I’m thinking Wyatt needs a story all his own...

As always, I love hearing from you. You can find me on Facebook, Twitter, Instagram and at alliepleiter.com. If good old-fashioned postal mail is your thing, you can reach me at PO Box 7026, Villa Park, IL 60181.

Blessings to you and yours,

Allie Pleiter

And he shall turn the heart of the fathers to the children, and the heart of the children to their fathers.

—Malachi 4:6

In memory of my dear father-in-law, Les Pleiter,

who had his own wonderful whirlwind senior romance.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

About the Author

Booklist

Title Page

Note to Readers

Introduction

Dear Reader

Bible Verse

Dedication

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Epilogue

Extract

About the Publisher

Chapter One

Yvonne Niles gawked at the man standing at her bakery counter. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you don’t want your dad to marry my aunt.”

Chaz Walker ran one hand across his strong jawline. His glare told Yvonne that was exactly what he thought of Aunt Pauline’s engagement to Hank Walker. “So I take it you’re fine with it?” he challenged with intense, dark eyes.

Auntie P. and her beau, Hank, had been in her bakery shop not an hour ago choosing the cake for their upcoming Matrimony Valley wedding. The older couple seemed to be flat-out in love despite knowing each other for only a handful of months. Sure, the quickness of their engagement took everyone by surprise, but she wasn’t about to confess her few niggling doubts to this man. “Not really my call, is it? Or yours.”

She’d seen several control freaks as part of Matrimony Valley’s now-thriving location wedding business, but this son’s interference with his father’s wedding topped the list. It was usually mothers of the bride who made life difficult. Son of the groom was a new one, to be sure.

“My dad just told me they ordered a chocolate wedding cake.”

Yvonne put on her best bridezilla wrangler voice, which seemed ludicrous to use on the handsome yet brooding cowboy currently standing in her bakery. “Yes, Pauline wants me to make my signature Black Forest cake. Because she knows how good it is and how everybody loves it.” It was true. That cake had been written up in Southeastern Nuptials magazine as the best, most unusual wedding cake in the region. It was her signature cake. She pointed to the article and photograph framed on the bakery wall to underscore the point.

Were he not currently boasting a scowl cold enough to have frozen Matrimony Falls despite it being a very warm September, she might have called Chaz downright attractive. “My dad hates chocolate. She up and ordered a chocolate cake. Doesn’t that tell you something?”

She’d met too many men like this—ones who could never understand why the rest of the world wouldn’t bend to their will on even the tiniest of issues. Neal had been exactly like this. Isn’t that just the way? she thought to herself. The first good-looking single man to show up in the valley in a long time, and he turns out to be a self-centered know-it-all. And about something as innocuous as his father’s wedding cake, to boot.

Yvonne and her partners in the valley didn’t do cookie-cutter weddings. They created amazingly individualized nuptials. With a determined smile, Yvonne pulled out her sample book and paged over to a gorgeous white-iced Black Forest cake with luscious cherries and powdered-sugar-coated chocolate shavings piled on top. “Maybe your dad enjoys giving his bride a cake she likes. Couples do that, you know. At least the happy ones.”

Unhappy Chaz Walker glared at her for a moment, as if stunned by her refusal to see his side of things. Yvonne glared right back until the man silently turned on his boot heels and left the bakery.

She watched his long strides take him back across the street to where Chaz was staying with his father. Clearly he was strong, for when he reached the heavy front doors of Hailey’s Inn Love, he yanked them open as easily as if they were paper. Auntie P. was about to become this grumpy cowboy’s stepmother. Hadn’t Mama always said, “You don’t just marry a man, you marry his whole family”?

“Bless your heart, Auntie P.,” Yvonne said aloud as she watched the door shut behind the broad-shouldered man. “I think you’ve got one rough ride ahead.”

* * *

Yvonne sat down next to her aunt half an hour later as the high noon sun cast glorious colors on the Smoky Mountains behind Matrimony Falls. “Auntie P., I need to talk to you about something.”

The clearing where they sat looked as beautiful as an oil painting. Almost two dozen happy brides and grooms had been united in the open-air “cathedral” that had been built in this grove. The grand and peaceful spot was among her very favorite places on earth—and perhaps the best place to have what might be a tough conversation.

Pauline gave her a concerned look. “What’s wrong?”

Yvonne had rehearsed six different ways to bring the subject up, but she opted to ditch them all in favor of a direct approach. “How do you think Chaz feels about your wedding?”

Pauline surprised her by frowning. “Oh, he’s not especially in favor of it.”

Yvonne fought the urge to pick her jaw up off the grass. “You knew?”

“Well, of course I know. The man’s about as transparent as glass—not that he goes to much effort to hide his concerns.”

“Doesn’t that bother you?”

Pauline raised a dubious eyebrow. “Have you spent even ten minutes with Chaz?”

“He came into the bakery a bit ago.” She might have found his eyes stunning were they not framed in a face that seemed to be stuck in a perpetual scowl. As it was, Chaz bore little resemblance to the happy, love-struck groom who had told Pauline to “order whatever cake her heart desires.” Like father, like son? Hardly. “He gave me an earful about your wedding cake.”

“Our cake? Oh, the chocolate part, I’m sure. He and Hank are die-hard vanilla fans. It’s why I chose the white icing, but I expect he didn’t give you a chance to explain that.” Pauline folded her hands in her lap. “I’m sure you realized Chaz doesn’t have a high opinion of anything. I don’t take his doubts personally.” She gave a small laugh. “Shame to waste those fine features on such a sourpuss, don’t you think? Some days I think he hates everything and everybody.”

Yvonne couldn’t believe Pauline’s laugh. “So you’re okay with this?”

Pauline fluttered one hand. “Well, of course not. Why do you think he’s here? It’s not as if I need his help to organize a wedding. That’s what y’all do here, isn’t it?”

Not just Yvonne’s, but the jobs of most people in the valley now centered on creating weddings. Mayor Jean Matrim Tyler—who herself was married in front of these falls just last winter—had cast a vision to reinvent this dying mill town into a destination wedding location. That dream had started to really take hold, and several brides—another of Yvonne’s dear friends, the town florist, Kelly, among them—had followed suit earlier this year. In fact, the prime wedding season just wrapping up had been the most successful to date.

None of which could explain the restlessness in Yvonne’s soul. Even the chance to give Pauline the wedding of her dreams hadn’t drowned out the hum of dissatisfaction. “I don’t think bringing him here helped convince him to get on board.” Aunt Pauline was never one to back down from a challenge, but Yvonne thought she might have chosen a monster of an obstacle in trying to gain Chaz’s endorsement.

“What is it you always say?” Pauline asked. “Folks argue about cake and flowers when they can’t bring themselves to argue about the real stuff? Chaz thinks we’re moving way too fast.”

Yvonne had to give her aunt credit. Most brides she knew would take serious offense at that, but Pauline seemed to accept it without bile.

“Of course, it’s not really me he’s wary of. It’s change. He can’t stomach that his daddy—we all know Hank is Chaz’s stepdaddy but that doesn’t change anything—is moving on and making choices Chaz doesn’t agree with.”

As a matter of fact, she didn’t know Chaz was Hank’s stepson. He referred to Hank as “Dad” in the bakery. She’d called Hank “your dad” right in front of Chaz and he’d not corrected her. Pauline had told her Hank was a widower with two sons. Yvonne had assumed Chaz and his brother were from that earlier marriage. Evidently not. “Hank’s been married twice before?” It would have been nicer not to sound so shocked.

“Wyatt is from Hank’s first marriage when he was very young. Wyatt’s mama left Hank when Wyatt was still a little thing.” She gave a sigh. “I think that’s why Wyatt is such a mess. Little boys don’t get over things like that, even though they’d never admit that. Mariah—who’d had a terrible marriage of her own—came along with Chaz in tow about seven years later. They had loads of happy years together before Mariah died. So only Wyatt is Hank’s blood son. He treats both boys well, but I think they still feel the difference. Those two men couldn’t be more different.”

“How so?”

“Well, you’ve met Chaz. A handsome fella, but a bit of a stick-in-the-mud. Sure he knows how everything ought to be.”

She’d had only one conversation with the man, but handsome know-it-all seemed a fair assessment of Chaz. “And Wyatt?”

“The opposite of all that. A lost soul. Bit of a black sheep who’s never rebelled far enough to actually leave home. Can’t quite get his ducks in a row and isn’t even sure he wants to.” Pauline looked at Yvonne. “In other words, everything Chaz isn’t...including blood.”

“And you want to marry into this mess of a family?” Yvonne winced. When was she going to learn to think before blurting things like that out?

Pauline got that dreamy look in her eye Yvonne saw on every Matrimony Valley bride. “I’d marry into ten messes for Hank. I’ve waited a long time to lose my heart, honey. I’m not about to let a whopping case of sibling rivalry scare me off my chance.”

“I don’t think there’s anything that scares you, Auntie P.”

“Oh, I don’t know about that. But I don’t expect you young people to understand how easy it is to be certain of what you want at our age.” Her aunt’s choice of words sent a pang of guilt between Yvonne’s ribs. After all, she’d had her own doubts about the speedy engagement and not had the nerve to say anything that might dampen Auntie P.’s happiness.

“So you’re sure about Hank?” was the most she could muster.

“No one’s ever sure, darlin’. But waiting for sure doesn’t make much sense when you’ve only got so many years left on this earth.”

Yvonne never liked it when Pauline talked like that. Pauline was younger in her seventies than most people in their fifties. “Oh, Auntie P., you’ll live forever.”

Pauline put her arm around Yvonne and gave her a big hug. Pauline gave the best hugs—no holding back, never the first to let go. So different from Mama’s careful embraces. “I will in heaven, baby. That’s where eternity happens. But here on earth, the clock’s a tickin’.” She plopped a big kiss on the top of Yvonne’s head, just the way she’d done since Yvonne was a little girl. “Hank says he has a big announcement to make at dinner tonight. Let’s just say a big prayer that whatever it is will smooth things over a bit.”

A big prayer indeed. Yvonne put her head on Pauline’s shoulder. When I grow up, I want to be just like her. Faith-filled and feisty and fearless.

Chapter Two

When Chaz opened the hotel room door after lunch, he expected to see Dad in hip waders, ready to spend the afternoon fly-fishing. Instead, the man wore khakis and a bright green polo shirt. A polo shirt was something he’d never seen Dad in before. Were it not for the familiar boots under the khakis, Chaz might have had to look twice to see if it really was Dad.

“Change of plans,” Dad said, stating the obvious with an apologetic smile. “So you’re gonna want to change your clothes.”

Chaz had been looking forward to a few hours of peaceful fly-fishing. This morning’s ridiculous standoff with the pretty-but-annoying baker had put him in an irritated mood, and he was looking forward to some quiet companionship. The sport was one of the things he enjoyed most with his father—it always fed both their spirits. And since Wyatt had never possessed the patience required of a fisherman, it had been something unique to the relationship between Chaz and his dad.

Something he clearly wasn’t going to get to do today.

“I’m not dressing like that,” he said, trying—but not necessarily succeeding—to keep his voice light and teasing as he motioned Dad into the room.

Hank puffed up his chest at his uncharacteristic attire. “Pauline bought these for me.”

I could have guessed that, Chaz thought sourly as he closed the door. He opted instead to strive for a reluctant compliment. “Very spiffy.” Leery of the new agenda for the afternoon, he asked, “So we’re going someplace else instead of fishing?”

“Okay by you?” Dad asked.

The earnest look on Dad’s face made it impossible for Chaz to say anything but “Sure. As long as I don’t have to put on a tie or anything.”

“I should check, but I don’t think so.”

You don’t think so? Chaz swallowed his annoyance. He hadn’t packed a tie. Dad hated ties. Why should he even need to check if they were doing something requiring a tie?

Then again, Chaz hadn’t expected to be here at all. There seemed to be no logical reason why Dad invited him on this wedding planning trip. Dad had to know he wasn’t thrilled at the prospect of leaving the ranch in Wyatt’s care. Wyatt could barely run the ranch for an hour on his own. Chaz couldn’t fathom how he’d handle the five days they were here in Matrimony Valley to firm up wedding plans and for Hank and Pauline to attend a wedding of a friend of Pauline’s. It’s pointless for me to be here. Why did I ever let Dad talk me into coming?

“Pauline is taking all of us to the Biltmore this afternoon,” Dad pronounced. “It’s a big fancy estate over by Asheville. Wedding’s mostly nailed down, so we can do a bit of sightseeing before that nice steak dinner I promised you.”

Chaz picked those three sentences apart. “Wedding’s mostly nailed down” meant that choices had already been made, and his mission to salvage at least some of this event for his dad with any degree of male dignity was probably all but gone. “Big fancy estate” sounded like nothing he’d find interesting or a remotely fair trade-off for time spent fishing with his father. Most worrisome of all, “All of us” meant that not only was he expected to go on this fussy field trip, but it was also likely Yvonne would be coming, as well.

“You want to go visit some fancy house?” Chaz asked, swallowing back “instead of going fishing?”

“Pauline’s all excited about it.” Dad scratched his chin as if, like Chaz, he wasn’t quite sure what the allure of walking all around someone else’s property was. “I’m gonna need you along so I don’t drown in girl talk.”

So Yvonne was going. He still didn’t know what to make of that woman. His mind kept replaying their conversation. His brain kept bringing up the picture of her eyeing him like she had him all figured out—bright eyes blazing, chin raised in defiance, hands planted on curvy hips. Under other circumstances, he might have found her amusing, even attractive. But here, she was just another of the army of people who seemed to be trying to marry Dad off as fast as possible.

A rebellious part of him hoped Wyatt would do what Wyatt always did—end up knee-deep in some sort of ranch problem. Maybe he could play that into necessitating the next flight to Colorado.

His sense of loyalty won out, however, and he managed a flat-sounding “No problem.”

Dad forced a grin. “I want you to spend time with Pauline. Get to know her better.”

Dad was trying so hard to make this work. While Chaz had tried to hide his resistance to this new relationship, Dad’s forced grin told him he hadn’t quite succeeded. Dad wanted him to bubble over with enthusiasm, to look at this whirlwind courtship as an exhilarating launch. They’d met online, for crying out loud. Even if it was a Christian seniors dating site, could anything like that really be trusted? To Chaz the whole thing smacked of a leap off a dangerously high cliff. “Give me a few minutes to change.”

Ten minutes later, he found himself walking down Aisle Avenue with Dad. As he passed all the wedding-named shops—the Love in Bloom Flower Shop, the Sweet Hearts Ice Cream Parlor and even the Catch Your Match fishing outfitters he’d optimistically stopped in to purchase a few new flies that now would get no use—Chaz felt his spirits fall. The whole idea of this wedding had bothered him from the first, and Dad’s obvious hope that coming here would curb his resistance was a losing proposition.

As if their unappealing destination wasn’t bad enough, a white van with the words Bliss Bakery painted on the side in swirly letters sat parked in front of the bakery. Yvonne and Pauline stood waiting beside it.

“Yvonne decided this’d be the best car to take all of us,” Hank explained at Chaz’s gape of surprise.

“No kidding,” Chaz said, unable to come up with a better response.

“It’s one of those convertible numbers where the rear seats and cargo bay can be switched around,” Hank pressed.

As it turned out, the vehicle was surprisingly comfortable—if you didn’t pay attention to how Hank and Pauline snuggled in the back seat as if he and Yvonne were dropping them off at the junior prom.

The mountain roads made for tricky driving, and more than once Chaz fought the urge to grab tighter hold of his armrest. Even under good circumstances, he was a terrible passenger, always preferring being behind the wheel. More than once Yvonne gave him a look when he tensed up over how she took a turn or checked the mirror before she changed lanes. Cut me some slack. I’m way out of my depth here, he wanted to yell, but clamped his mouth shut.

Forty tense minutes later, he, Dad, Pauline and Yvonne got out of the van to stare at the biggest house Chaz had ever seen. Mansion really was the right word for the place. It was practically a castle, with monstrous manicured lawns and acres of formal gardens.

And the rooms. Of course they had to tour the rooms. It seemed as if they went on forever, each one fancier than the last. He counted twenty-four chairs at the dining room table just off a fireplace that looked big enough to roast an entire steer. The oohs and aahs around him told Chaz some people clearly thought the tour was fascinating. He just wasn’t one of them.

“The estate does over two hundred weddings a year,” Yvonne offered as they walked through yet another ballroom-looking space. She kept rubbing one eye as if it were bothering her. “I’d consider myself hitting the big time if I got to do even one of them.”

“Could you do it?” he wondered aloud. “Do a cake for something as big as this place holds?” The sheer size of any party held here probably needed a whole team of bakers.

She sighed. “Not yet. But I’d sure like to. Be a swanky, respected vendor able to pull off a venue like this? It’s definitely a goal.”

She fussed with her eye again, blinking and rubbing it so much that he felt compelled to ask, “Are you okay?”

She looked at him as if such a kindness were out of character for him. “It’s just my contact lens. It’s been bugging me the whole day.” She squinted at him with her one good eye. “I’ll be fine.” Wyatt may lay claim to being the ladies’ man of the family, but even Chaz had been around enough women in his life to know when the word fine—especially when said in that tone—meant anything but.

She’d been making conversation—or trying to—the whole afternoon. Be nice, he told himself. He did admire her ambition, and she was clearly talented. Normally he liked direct people—when he wasn’t in complete disagreement with them, that was. “If you want to be a swanky, respectable baker, why hide out in Matrimony Valley? Wouldn’t it be better to have your shop down in Asheville, where the swanky, respectable brides are?”

“Do you try hard?” One hand planted itself on her hip again. “Or does being such a curmudgeon just come to you naturally?”

He laughed at her choice of words—he liked that Yvonne gave as good as she got. But she hadn’t answered his question, and that told him something.

Rather than press his luck, Chaz directed his attention over to Dad and Pauline. The couple stood gazing dreamily out over a nearby balcony. A harrowing thought came to him, and he turned back to Yvonne. “Those two didn’t think about getting hitched here, did they?”

Now it was Yvonne’s turn to laugh—a musical, full-hearted sound he found himself enjoying a bit too much. “You don’t get hitched at the Biltmore,” she replied. “And no, even if they could afford it—which no one I know can—it isn’t really their style, wouldn’t you say?”

She gave him another lopsided look—squinting with one eye, glaring with the other—as she tucked her hair behind one ear. The shoulder-length honey-blond locks that had been up in a ponytail in the bakery were down now, held back with a bright blue headband. September could still be surprisingly warm in this part of the country, so she and Pauline were both in brightly colored dresses. Pauline’s was some sort of purple pattern while Yvonne’s was a pale yellow that lit up her skin and made the blue of her eyes stand out. Not that he noticed. It was mostly that he felt out of place in his black jeans, white shirt and boots. Stark and practical beside the breezy colors the rest of them wore. Dad? In khakis? It was as if they’d gotten off the airplane in another universe.

“Look at them,” Yvonne said, nodding toward their respective relatives. “They’re like teenagers.”

He scoffed. “No offense, but my experience of teenagers is that they let their urges overpower their brains and make choices everybody regrets later.”

Even the squinted blue eye flashed fire at that. “They’re grown-ups, Chaz.”

It was the first time she’d said his name. She drew the z out, her hint of a Southern accent giving it a swingy quality. She was on the opposing team here, and liking her—even a little—only made things more complicated, right?

He decided it was time to dive right into it. “You’re really okay with this? With them?”

She hesitated just a second before replying. “Of course. But it’s pretty clear you aren’t.”

Dad was holding Pauline’s hand, leaning close to her and saying things that made her laugh. No, giggle. It was both amusing and a little bit sickening. Shades of Wyatt turning on the million-watt charm. Had he ever in his life—even as a teen—been that smitten?

12 3 След.

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