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Praise for

JOAN JOHNSTON

“Johnston warms your heart and tickles your fancy.”

—New York Daily News

“Skillful storyteller Johnston makes what would in lesser hands be melodrama, compellingly realistic.”

—Booklist

“Romance devotees will find Johnston lively and well-written, and her characters perfectly enchanting.”

—Publishers Weekly

“Joan Johnston continually gives us everything we want…a story that you wish would never end, and lots of tension and sensuality.”

—RT Book Reviews

“Joan Johnston [creates] unforgettable subplots and characters who make every fine thread weave into a touching tapestry.”

—Affaire de Coeur

“Johnston’s characters struggle against seriously deranged foes and face seemingly insurmountable obstacles to true love.”

—Booklist

“A guaranteed good read.”

—New York Times bestselling author Heather Graham

Joan Johnston
Hawk’s Way
Rebels

MILLS & BOON

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CONTENTS

THE TEMPORARY GROOM

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

THE VIRGIN GROOM

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

EPILOGUE

THE TEMPORARY GROOM

CHAPTER ONE

CHERRY WHITELAW was in trouble. Again. She simply couldn’t live up to the high expectations of her adoptive parents, Zach and Rebecca Whitelaw. She had been a Whitelaw for three years, ever since her fifteenth birthday, and it was getting harder and harder to face the looks of disappointment on her parents’ faces each time they learned of her latest escapade.

This time it was really serious. This was about the worst thing that could happen to a high school girl. Well, the second worst. At least she wasn’t pregnant.

Cherry had been caught spiking the punch at the senior prom this evening by the principal, Mr. Cornwell, and expelled on the spot. The worst of it was, she wasn’t even guilty! Not that anyone was going to believe her. Because most of the time she was.

Her best friend, Tessa Ramos, had brought the pint bottle of whiskey to the dance. Cherry had been trying to talk Tessa out of spiking the punch—had just taken the bottle from Tessa’s hand—when Mr. Cornwell caught her with it.

He had snatched it away with a look of dismay and said, “I’m ashamed of you, young lady. It’s bad enough when your behavior disrupts class. An irresponsible act like this has farther-reaching ramifications.”

“But, Mr. Cornwell, I was only—”

“You’re obviously incorrigible, Ms. Whitelaw.”

Cherry hated being called that. Incorrigible. Being incorrigible meant no one wanted her because she was too much trouble. Except Zach and Rebecca had. They had loved her no matter what she did. They would believe in her this time, too. But that didn’t change the fact she had let them down. Again.

“You’re expelled,” Mr. Cornwell had said, his rotund face nearly as red as Cherry’s hair, but not quite, because nothing could ever be quite that red. “You will leave this dance at once. I’ll be in touch with your parents tomorrow.”

No amount of argument about her innocence had done any good, because she had been unwilling to name her best friend as the real culprit. She might be a troublemaker, but she was no rat.

Mr. Cornwell’s pronouncement had been final. She was out. She wasn’t going to graduate with the rest of her class. She would have to come back for summer school.

Rebecca was going to cry when she found out. And Zach was going to get that grim-lipped look that meant he was really upset.

Cherry felt a little like crying herself. She had no idea why she was so often driven to wild behavior. She only knew she couldn’t seem to stop. And it wasn’t going to do any good to protest her innocence this time. She had been guilty too often in the past.

“Hey, Cherry! You gonna sit there mopin’ all night, or what?”

Cherry glanced at her prom date, Ray Estes. He lay sprawled on the grass beside her at the stock pond on the farthest edge of Hawk’s Pride, her father’s ranch, where she had retreated in defeat. Her full-length, pale green chiffon prom dress, which had made her feel like a fairy princess earlier in the evening, was stained with dirt and grass.

Ray’s tuxedo was missing the jacket, bow tie, and cummerbund, and his shirt was unbuttoned halfway to his waist. He was guzzling the fourth can of a six-pack of beer he had been slowly but surely consuming since they had arrived at the pond an hour ago.

Cherry sat beside him holding the fifth can, but it was still nearly full. Somehow she didn’t feel much like getting drunk. She had to face her parents sometime tonight, and that would only be adding insult to injury.

“C’mon, Cherry, give us a li’l kiss,” Ray said, dragging himself upright with difficulty and leaning toward her.

She braced a palm in the smooth center of his chest to keep him from falling onto her. “You’re drunk, Ray.”

Ray grinned. “Shhure am. How ’bout that kiss, Cher-ry?”

“No, Ray.”

“Aww, why not?”

“I got thrown out of school tonight, Ray. I don’t feel like kissing anybody.”

“Not even me?” Ray said.

Cherry laughed at the woeful, hangdog look on his face and shook her head. “Not even you.” Ray was good fun most of the time. He drank a little too much, and he drove a little too fast, and his grades hadn’t been too good. But she hadn’t been in a position to be too picky.

She had dreamed sometimes of what it might be like to be one of the “good girls” and have “nice boys” calling her up to ask for dates. It hadn’t happened. She was the kind of trouble nice boys stayed away from.

“C’mon, Cher-ry,” Ray said. “Gimme li’l kiss.”

He teetered forward, and the sheer weight of him forced her backward so she was lying flat on the ground. Cherry was five-eleven in her stocking feet and could run fast enough to make the girls’ track team—if she hadn’t always been in too much trouble to qualify. But Ray was four inches taller and forty pounds heavier. She turned her head away to avoid his slobbery, seeking lips, which landed on her cheeks and chin.

“I said no, Ray. Get off!” She shoved uselessly at his heavy body, a sense of panic growing inside her.

“Aww, Cher-ry,” he slurred drunkenly. “You know you want it.” His hand closed around her breast.

“Ray! No!” she cried. She grabbed his wrist and yanked it away and heard the chiffon rip as his grasping fingers held fast to the cloth. “Ray, please!” she pleaded.

Then she felt his hand on her bare flesh. “No, Ray. No!”

“Gonna have you, Cher-ry,” Ray muttered. “Always wanted to. Know you want it, too.”

Cherry suddenly realized she might be in even worse trouble than she’d thought.

BILLY STONECREEK was in trouble. Again. His former mother-in-law, Penelope Trask, was furious because he had gotten into a little fight in a bar in town and spent the night in jail—for the third time in a year.

He had a live-in housekeeper to stay with his daughters, so they were never alone. He figured he’d been a pretty damned good single parent to his six-year-old twins, Raejean and Annie, ever since their mother’s death a year ago. But you’d never know it to hear Penelope talk.

Hell, a young man of twenty-five who worked hard on his ranch from dawn to dusk all week deserved to sow a few wild oats at week’s end. His ears rang with the memory of their confrontation in his living room earlier that evening.

“You’re a drunken half-breed,” Penelope snapped, “not fit to raise my grandchildren. And if I have anything to say about it, you won’t have them for much longer!”

Billy felt a burning rage that Penelope should say such a thing while Raejean and Annie were standing right there listening. Especially since he hadn’t been the least bit drunk. He’d been looking for a fight, all right, and he’d found it in a bar, but that was all.

There was no hope his daughters hadn’t heard Penelope. Their Nintendo game continued on the living room TV, but both girls were staring wide-eyed at him. “Raejean. Annie. Go upstairs while I talk to Nana.”

“But, Daddy—” Raejean began. She was the twin who took control of every situation.

“Not a word,” he said in a firm voice. “Go.”

Annie’s dark brown eyes welled with tears. She was the twin with the soft heart.

He wanted to pick them both up and hug them, but he forced himself to point an authoritative finger toward the doorway. “Upstairs and get your baths and get ready for bed. Mrs. Motherwell will be up to help in a minute.” He had hired the elderly woman on the spot when he heard her name. She had proven equal to it.

Raejean shot him a reproachful look, took Annie’s hand, and stomped out of the room with Annie trailing behind her.

Once they were gone, Billy turned his attention back to his nemesis. “What is it this time, Penelope?”

“This time! What is it every time? You drove my Laura to kill herself, and now you’re neglecting my grandchildren. I’ve had it. I went to see a lawyer today. I’ve filed for custody of my granddaughters.”

A chill of foreboding crawled down Billy’s spine. “You’ve done what?”

“You heard me. I want custody of Raejean and Annie.”

“Those are my children you’re talking about.”

“They’ll have a better life with me than they will with a half-breed like you.”

“Being part Comanche isn’t a crime, Penelope. Lots of people in America are part something. Hell, you’re probably part Irish or English or French yourself.”

“Your kind has a reputation for not being able to hold their liquor. Obviously, it’s a problem for you, too. I don’t intend to let my grandchildren suffer for it.”

A flush rose on Billy’s high, sharp cheekbones. He refused to defend himself. It was none of Penelope’s business whether he drank or not. But he didn’t. He went looking for a fight when the pain built up inside, and he needed a release for it. But he chose men able to defend themselves, he fought clean, and he willingly paid the damages afterward.

He hated the idea of kowtowing to Penelope, but he didn’t want a court battle with her, either. She and her husband, Harvey Trask, were wealthy; he was not. In fact, the Trasks had given this ranch—an edge carved from the larger Trask ranching empire—as a wedding present to their daughter, Laura, thereby ensuring that the newlyweds would stay close to home.

He had resented their generosity at first, but he had grown to love the land, and now he was no more willing to give up the Stonecreek Ranch than he was to relinquish his children.

But his behavior over the past year couldn’t stand much scrutiny. He supposed the reason he had started those few barroom brawls wouldn’t matter to a judge. And he could never have revealed to anyone the personal pain that had led to such behavior. So he had no excuses to offer Penelope—or a family court judge, either.

“Look, Penelope, I’m sorry. What if I promise—”

“Don’t waste your breath. I never wanted my daughter to marry a man like you in the first place. My granddaughters deserve to be raised in a wholesome household where they won’t be exposed to your kind.”

“What kind is that?” Billy asked pointedly.

“The kind that doesn’t have any self-respect, and therefore can’t pass it on to their children.”

Billy felt his stomach roll. It was a toss-up whether he felt more humiliated or furious at her accusation. “I have plenty of self-respect.”

“Could have fooled me!” Penelope retorted.

“I’m not letting you take my kids away from me.”

“You can’t stop me.” She didn’t argue with him further, simply headed for the front door—she never used the back, as most people in this part of Texas did. “I’ll see you in court, Billy.”

Then she was gone.

Billy stood in the middle of the toy-strewn living room, furnished with the formal satin-covered couches and chairs Laura had chosen, feeling helpless. Moments later he was headed for the back door. He paused long enough to yell up the stairs, “I’m going out, Mrs. Motherwell. Good night, Raejean. Good night, Annie.”

“Good night, Daddy!” the two of them yelled back from the bathtub in unison.

Mrs. Motherwell appeared at the top of the stairs. “Don’t forget this is my last week, Mr. Stonecreek. You’ll need to find someone else starting Monday morning.”

“I know, Mrs. Motherwell,” Billy said with a sigh. He had Penelope to thank for that, too. She had filled Mrs. Motherwell’s head with stories about him being a dangerous savage. His granite-hewn features, his untrimmed black hair, his broad shoulders and immense height, and a pair of dark, brooding eyes did nothing to dispel the image. But he couldn’t help how he looked. “Don’t worry, Mrs. Motherwell. I’ll find someone to replace you.”

He was the one who was worried. How was he going to find someone as capable as Mrs. Motherwell in a week? It had taken him a month to find her.

He let the kitchen screen door slam and gunned the engine in his black pickup as he drove away. But he couldn’t escape his frenetic thoughts.

I’ll be damned if I let Penelope take my kids away from me. Who does she think she is? How dare she threaten to steal my children!

He knew his girls needed a mother. Sometimes he missed Laura so much it made his gut ache. But no other woman could ever take her place. He had hired a series of good housekeeper/nannies one after another—it was hard to get help to stay at his isolated ranch—and he and his girls had managed fine.

Or they would, if Penelope and Harvey Trask would leave them alone.

Unfortunately, Penelope blamed him for Laura’s death. She had been killed instantly in a car accident that had looked a whole lot like a suicide. Billy had tried telling Penelope that Laura hadn’t killed herself, but his mother-in-law hadn’t believed him. Penelope Trask had said she would see that he was punished for making Laura so miserable she had taken her own life. Now she was threatening to take his children from him.

He couldn’t bear to lose Raejean and Annie. They were the light of his life and all he had left of Laura. God, how he had loved her!

Billy pounded his fist on the steering wheel of his pickup. How could he have been so stupid as to give Penelope the ammunition she needed to shoot him down in court?

It was too late to do anything about his wild reputation. But he could change his behavior. He could stop brawling in bars. If only there were some way he could show the judge he had turned over a new leaf….

Billy didn’t drive in any particular direction, yet he eventually found himself at the stock pond he shared with Zach Whitelaw’s ranch. The light from the rising moon and stars made a silvery reflection on the center of the pond and revealed the shadows of several pin oaks that surrounded it. He had always found the sounds of the bullfrogs and the crickets and the lapping water soothing to his inner turmoil. He had gone there often to think in the year since Laura had died.

His truck headlights revealed someone else had discovered his sanctuary. He smiled wistfully when he realized a couple was lying together on the grass. He felt a stab of envy. He and Laura had spent their share of stolen moments on the banks of this stock pond when the land had belonged to her father.

He almost turned the truck around, because he wanted to be alone, but there was something about the movements of the couple on the ground that struck him as odd. It took him a moment to realize they weren’t struggling in the throes of passion. The woman was trying to fight the man off!

He hit the brakes, shoved open his truck door, and headed for them on the run. He hadn’t quite reached the girl when he heard her scream of outrage.

He grabbed hold of the boy by his shoulders and yanked him upright. The tall, heavyset kid came around swinging.

That was a mistake.

Billy ducked and came up underneath with a hard fist to the belly that dropped the kid to his knees. A second later the boy toppled face-forward with a groan.

Billy made a sound of disgust that the kid hadn’t put up more of a fight and hurried to help the girl. She had curled in on herself, her body rigid with tension. When he put a hand on her shoulder, she tried scrambling away.

“He’s not going to hurt you anymore,” he said in the calm, quiet voice he used when he was gentling horses. He turned her over so she could see she was safe from the boy, that he was there to help. Her torn bodice exposed half of a small, well-formed breast. He made himself look away, but his body tightened responsively. Her whole body began to tremble.

“Shh. It’s all right. I’m here now.”

She looked up at him with eyes full of pain.

“Are you hurt?” he asked, his hands doing a quick once-over for some sign of injury.

She slapped at him ineffectually with one hand while holding the torn chiffon against her nakedness with the other. “No. I’m fine. Just…just…”

Her eyes—he couldn’t tell what color they were in the dark—filled with tears and, despite her desperate attempts to blink the moisture away, one sparkling tear-drop spilled onto her cheek. It was then he realized the pain he had seen wasn’t physical, but came from inside.

He understood that kind of pain all too well.

“Hey,” he said gently. “It’s going to be all right.”

“Easy for you to say,” she snapped, rubbing at the tears and swiping them across her cheeks. “I—”

A car engine revved, and they both looked toward the sound in time to see a pair of headlights come on.

“Wait!” the girl cried, surging to her feet.

The dress slipped, and Billy got an unwelcome look at a single, luscious breast. He swore under his breath as his body hardened.

The girl obviously wasn’t used to long dresses, because the length of it caught under her knees and trapped her on the ground. By the time she made it to her feet, the car she had come in, and the boy she had come with, were gone.

He took one look at her face in the moonlight and saw a kind of desolation he hadn’t often seen before.

Except perhaps in his own face in the mirror.

It made his throat ache. It might have brought him to tears, if he had been the kind of man who could cry. He wasn’t. He thought maybe his Comanche heritage had something to do with it. Or maybe it was simply a lack of feeling in him. He didn’t know. He didn’t want to know.

As he watched, the girl sank to the ground and dropped her face into her hands. Her shoulders rocked with soundless, shuddering sobs.

He settled beside her, not speaking, not touching, merely a comforting presence, there if she needed him. Occasionally he heard a sniffling sound, but otherwise he was aware of the silence. And finally, the sounds he had come to hear. The bullfrogs. The crickets. The water lapping in the pond.

He didn’t know how long he had been sitting beside her when she finally spoke.

“Thank you,” she said.

Her voice was husky from crying, and rasped over him, raising the hairs on his neck. He looked at her again and saw liquid, shining eyes in a pretty face. He couldn’t keep his gaze from dropping to the flesh revealed by her tightened grip on the torn fabric. Hell, he was a man, not a saint.

“Are you all right?” he asked.

She shook her head, gave a halfhearted laugh, and said, “Sure.” The sarcasm in her voice made it plain she was anything but.

“Can I help?”

“I’d need a miracle to get me out of the mess I’m in.” She shrugged, a surprisingly sad gesture. “I can’t seem to stay out of trouble.”

He smiled sympathetically. I have the same problem. He thought the words, but he didn’t say them. He didn’t want to frighten her. “Things happen,” he said instead.

She reached out hesitantly to touch a recent cut above his eye. “Did Ray do this?”

He edged back from her touch. It felt too good. “No. That’s from—” Another fight. He didn’t finish that thought aloud, either. “Something else.”

He had gotten a whiff of her perfume. Something light and flowery. Something definitely female. It reminded him he hadn’t been with a woman since Laura’s death. And that he found the young woman sitting beside him infinitely desirable.

He tamped down his raging hormones. She needed his help. She didn’t need another male lusting after her.

She reached for an open can of beer sitting in the grass nearby and lifted it to her lips.

Before it got there, he took it from her. “Aren’t you a little young for this?”

“What difference does it make now? My life is ruined.”

He smiled indulgently. “Just because your boyfriend—”

“Ray’s not my boyfriend. And he’s the least of my problems.”

He raised a questioning brow. “Oh?”

He watched her grasp her full lower lip in her teeth—and wished he were doing it himself. He forced his gaze upward to meet with hers.

“I’m a disappointment to my parents,” she said in a whispery, haunted voice.

How could such a beautiful—he had been looking at her long enough to realize she was more than pretty—young woman be a disappointment to anybody? “Who are your parents?”

“I’m Cherry Whitelaw.”

She said it defiantly, defensively. And he knew why. She had been the talk of the neighborhood—the “juvenile delinquent” the Whitelaws had taken into their home four years ago, the most recently adopted child of their eight adopted children.

“If you’re trying to scare me off, it won’t work.” He grinned and said, “I’m Billy Stonecreek.”

The smile grew slowly on her face. He saw the moment when she relaxed and held out her hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Stonecreek. I used to see you in church with your—” She cut herself off.

“It’s all right to mention my wife,” he said. But he knew why she had hesitated. Penelope’s tongue had been wagging, telling anyone who would listen how he had caused Laura to kill herself. Cherry’s lowered eyes made it obvious she had heard the stories. He didn’t know why he felt the urge to defend himself to her when he hadn’t to anyone else.

“I had nothing to do with Laura’s death. It was simply a tragic accident.” Then, before he could stop himself, “I miss her.”

Cherry laid a hand on his forearm, and he felt the muscles tense beneath her soothing touch. She waited for him to look at her before she spoke. “I’m sorry about your wife, Mr. Stonecreek. It must be awful to lose someone you love.”

“Call me Billy,” he said, unsure how to handle her sympathy.

“Then you have to call me Cherry,” she said with the beginnings of a smile. She held out her hand. “Deal?”

“Deal.” He took her hand and held it a moment too long. Long enough to realize he didn’t want to let go. He forced himself to sit back. He raised the beer can he had taken from her to his lips, but she took it from him before he could tip it up.

“I don’t think this will solve your problems, either,” she said with a cheeky grin.

He laughed. “You’re right.”

They smiled at each other.

Until Billy realized he wanted to kiss her about as bad as he had ever wanted anything in his life. His smile faded. He saw the growing recognition in her eyes and turned away. He was there to rescue the girl, not to ravish her.

He picked a stem of sweet grass and twirled it between his fingertips. “Would you like to talk about what you’ve done that’s going to disappoint your parents?”

She shrugged. “Hell. Why not?”

The profanity surprised him. Until he remembered she hadn’t been a Whitelaw for very long. “I’m listening.”

Her eyes remained focused on her tightly laced fingers. “I got expelled from high school tonight.”

He let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. “That’s pretty bad, all right. What did you do?”

“Nothing! Not that I’m innocent all that often, but this time I was. Just because I had a whiskey bottle in my hand doesn’t mean I was going to pour it in the punch at the prom.”

He raised a skeptical brow.

“I was keeping a friend of mine from pouring it in the punch,” she explained. “Not that anyone will believe me.”

“As alibis go, I’ve heard better,” he said.

“Anyway, I’ve been expelled and I won’t graduate with my class and I’ll have to go to summer school to finish. I’d rather run away from home than face Zach and Rebecca and tell them what I’ve done. In fact, the more I think about it, the better that idea sounds. I won’t go home. I’ll…I’ll…”

“Go where?”

“I don’t know. Somewhere.”

“Dressed like that?”

She looked down at herself and back up at him, her eyes brimming with tears. “My dress is ruined. Just like my life.”

Billy didn’t resist the urge to lift her into his lap, and for whatever reason, she didn’t resist his efforts to comfort her. She wrapped her arms around his neck and clung to him.

“I feel so lost and alone,” she said, her breath moist against his skin. “I don’t belong anywhere.”

Billy tightened his arms around her protectively, wishing there was something more he could do to help. He crooned to her in Comanche, telling her she was safe, that he would find a way to help her, that she wasn’t alone.

“What am I going to do?” she murmured in an anguished voice. “Where can I go?”

Billy swallowed over the knot in his throat. “You’re going to think I’m crazy,” he said. “But I’ve got an idea if you’d like to hear it.”

“What is it?” she asked.

“You could come and live with me.”

CHAPTER TWO

CHERRY HAD FELT SAFE and secure in Billy Stonecreek’s arms, that is, until he made his insane suggestion. She lifted her head from Billy’s shoulder and stared at him wide-eyed. “What did you say?”

“Don’t reject the idea before you hear me out.”

“I’m listening.” In fact, Cherry was fascinated.

He focused his dark-eyed gaze on her, pinning her in place. “The older lady who’s been taking care of my kids is quitting on Monday. How would you like to work for me? The job comes with room and board.” He smiled. “In fact, I’m including room and board because I can’t afford to pay much.”

“You’re offering me a job?”

“And a place to live. I could be at home evenings to watch the girls while you go to night school over the summer and earn your high school diploma. What do you say?”

Cherry edged herself off Billy’s lap, wondering how he had coaxed her into remaining there so long. Perversely, she missed the warmth of his embrace once it was gone. She pulled her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around the yards of pale green chiffon.

“Cherry?”

Her first reaction was to say yes. His offer was the simple solution to all her problems. She wouldn’t have to go home. She wouldn’t have to face her parents with the truth.

But she hadn’t lived with Zach and Rebecca Whitelaw for four years and not learned how they felt about certain subjects. “My dad would never allow it.”

“A minute ago you were going to run away from home. How is this different?”

“You obviously don’t know Zach Whitelaw very well,” she said with a rueful twist of her lips. “If he knew I was working so close, he’d expect me to live at home.”

“Not if you were indispensible to me.”

“Would I be?” she asked, intrigued.

“I can’t manage the ranch and my six-year-old twin daughters all by myself. I’m up and working before dawn. Somebody has to make sure Annie and Raejean get dressed for school and feed them breakfast and be there when they get off the school bus in the afternoon.” Billy shrugged. “You need a place to stay. I need help in a hurry. It’s a match made in heaven.”

Cherry shook her head. “It wouldn’t work.”

“Why not?”

“Can I be blunt?”

Billy smiled, and her stomach did a queer flip-flop. “By all means,” he said.

“It’s bad enough that you’re single—”

“I wouldn’t need the help if I had a wife,” Billy interrupted.

Cherry frowned him into silence. “You’re a widower. I’m only eighteen. It’s a toss-up which of us has the worse reputation for getting into trouble. Can you imagine what people would say—about us—if I moved in with you?” Cherry’s lips curled in an impish grin. “Eyebrows would hit hairlines all over the county.”

Billy shook his head and laughed. “I hadn’t thought about what people would think. We’re two of a kind, all right.” His features sobered. “Just not the right kind.”

Cherry laid her hand on his arm in comfort. “I know what you’re feeling, Billy.”

“I doubt it.”

Cherry felt bereft as he pulled free. He was wrong. She understood exactly what he was feeling. The words spilled out before she could stop them.

“Nobody wants anything to do with you, because you’re different,” she said in a quiet voice that carried in the dark. “To prove it doesn’t matter what anyone else thinks, you break their rules. When they look down their noses at you, you spit in their eyes. And all the time, your heart is aching. Because you want them to like you. And respect you. But they don’t.”

Billy eyed her speculatively. “I guess you do understand.”

For a moment Cherry thought he was going to put his arm around her. But he didn’t.

She turned to stare at the pond, so he wouldn’t see how much she regretted his decision to keep his distance. “I’ve always hated being different,” she said. “I was always taller than everyone else, thanks to my giant of a father, Big Mike Murphy.” When she was a child, her father’s size had always made her feel safe. But he hadn’t kept her safe. He had let her be stolen away from him.

“And I don’t know another person with hair as godawful fire-engine red as mine. I have Big Mike to thank for that, too.” Cherry noticed Billy didn’t contradict her evaluation of her hair.

“And your mother?” Billy asked. “What did you get from her?”

“Nothing, so far as I can tell,” Cherry said curtly. “She walked out on Big Mike when I was five. That’s when he started drinking. Eventually someone reported to social services that he was leaving me alone at night. They took me away from him when I was eight. He fell from a high scaffolding at work the next week and was killed. I think he wanted to die. I was in and out of the system for six years before the Whitelaws took me in.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It doesn’t matter now.”

“Doesn’t it?” Billy asked.

Cherry shrugged. “It’s in the past. You learn to protect yourself.”

“Yeah,” Billy said. “You do.”

Billy had inherited his six-foot-four height and dark brown eyes from his Scots father. His straight black hair and burnished skin came from his Comanche mother. They had been killed in a car wreck when he was ten. He had developed his rebellious streak in a series of foster homes that treated him like he was less than human because he wasn’t all white.

He opened his mouth to share his common experiences with Cherry and closed it again. It was really none of her business.

“Too bad you aren’t looking for a wife,” Cherry mused. “That would solve your problem. But I guess after what happened, you don’t want to get married again.”

“No, I don’t,” Billy said flatly.

“I certainly wasn’t volunteering for the job,” Cherry retorted. Everyone knew Billy Stonecreek had made his first wife so unhappy she had killed herself. At least, that was the story Penelope Trask had been spreading. On the other hand, Billy Stonecreek had been nothing but nice to her. She couldn’t help wondering whether Billy was really as villainous as his mother-in-law had painted him.

They sat in silence. Cherry wished there was some way she could have helped Billy. But she knew Zach Whitelaw too well to believe he would allow his daughter to move in with a single man—even if she was his housekeeper. Not that Zach could have stopped her if she wanted to do it. But knowing Zach, he would find a way to make sure Billy changed his mind about needing her. And she didn’t want to cause that kind of trouble for anybody.

“Having you come to work for me wouldn’t really solve my biggest problem, anyway,” Billy said, picking up the beer can again.

Cherry took it out of his hand, set it down, and asked, “What problem is that?”

He hesitated so long she wasn’t sure he was going to speak. At last he said, “My former mother-in-law is taking me to court to try and get custody of my daughters. Penelope says I’m not a fit parent. She’s determined to take Raejean and Annie away from me.”

“Oh, no!” It was Cherry’s worst nightmare come to life. She had suffered terribly when she had been taken from her father as a child. “You can’t let her do that! Kids belong with their parents.”

Cherry was passionate about the subject. She had often wondered where her birth mother was and why she had walked away and left Cherry and Big Mike behind. Cherry had died inside when the social worker came to take her away, and she realized she was never going to see Big Mike again. It was outrageous to think someone could go to court and wrench two little girls away from their natural father.

“You’ve got to stop Mrs. Trask!” Cherry said. “You can’t let her take your kids!”

“I’m not letting her do anything!” Billy cried in frustration. His hands clenched into fists. “But I’m not sure I can stop her. Over the past year I haven’t exactly been a model citizen. And I haven’t been able to keep a steady housekeeper. Especially once Penelope fills their ears with wild stories about me.”

Billy made an angry sound in his throat. “If Laura hadn’t died… Having a wife would certainly make my case as a responsible parent stronger in court.”

“Isn’t there somebody you could marry?”

“What woman would want a half-breed, with a ready-made family of half-breed kids?” Billy said bitterly.

Cherry gasped. “You talk like there’s something wrong with you because you’re part Comanche. I’m sure you have lots of redeeming qualities.”

Billy eyed her sideways. “Like what?”

“I don’t know. I’m sure there must be some.” She paused and asked, “Aren’t there?”

Billy snorted. “I’ve been in jail for fighting three times over the past year.”

Cherry met his gaze evenly and said, “Nobody says you have to fight.”

“True,” Billy conceded. “But sometimes…”

“Sometimes you feel like if you don’t hit something you’ll explode?”

Billy nodded. “Yeah.”

“I’ve felt that way sometimes myself.”

“You’re a girl,” Billy protested. “Girls don’t—”

“What makes you think girls don’t get angry?” Cherry interrupted.

“I guess I never really thought much about it. What do you do when you feel like that?”

“Cause mischief,” Cherry admitted with a grin. Her grin faded as she said, “Think, Billy. Isn’t there some woman you could ask to marry you?”

Billy shook his head. “I haven’t gone out much since Laura died. When I haven’t been working on the ranch, I’ve spent my time with Raejean and Annie. Besides, I don’t know too many women around here who’d think I was much of a catch.”

Cherry sat silently beside Billy. Her heart went out to his two daughters. She knew what was coming for them. She felt genuinely sorry for them. For the first time in a long time she regretted her past behavior, because it meant she couldn’t be a help to them.

“I wish we’d met sooner. And that I had less of a reputation for being a troublemaker,” Cherry said. “If things were different, I might volunteer to help you out. But I’m not the kind of person you’d want as a mother for your kids.”

Billy’s head jerked around, and he stared intently at her.

Cherry was a little frightened by the fierce look on his face. “Billy? What are you thinking?”

“Why not?” he muttered. “Why the hell not?”

“Why not what?”

“Why can’t you marry me?” Billy said.

Cherry clutched at her torn bodice as she surged to her feet. “You can’t be serious!”

Billy rose and grabbed her by the shoulders, which was all that kept her from running. “More serious than I’ve ever been in my life. My kids’ lives depend on me making the right choices now.”

“And you think marriage to me is the right choice?” Cherry asked incredulously. “We’re practically strangers! I barely know you. You don’t know me at all.”

“I know plenty about you. You understand what it feels like to be different. What it feels like to lose your parents. What it feels like to need a parent’s love. You’d be good for my kids. And you could really help me out.”

“Why me?”

“I’m desperate,” Billy said. “I thought you were, too.”

Cherry grimaced. Why else would a man choose her except because he was desperate? And why else would a woman accept such a proposal, unless she were desperate, too?

“Are you ready to go home and face your parents and tell them you got expelled and that you aren’t going to graduate?” Billy demanded.

“When you put it that way, I… No. But marriage? That seems like such a big step. Make that a huge step.”

“It doesn’t have to be a real marriage. It can be strictly a business arrangement. We can stay married long enough for you to finish the high school credits you need and maybe take some courses at the junior college. When you figure out what you want to do with the rest of your life, we could go our separate ways.”

“Couldn’t I just be your housekeeper?”

Billy shook his head. “You’ve said yourself why that wouldn’t work.”

“But marriage is so…permanent.”

“It would be if it were for real. Ours wouldn’t be.”

“Are you suggesting we tell people we’re married but not really go through with it?”

He considered a moment. “No, we’d have to get married, and as far as I’m concerned, the sooner the better.”

Cherry’s heart bounced around inside her like a frightened rabbit. She pressed a fistful of chiffon hard against her chest, as though she could hold her heart still, but it kept right on jumping. “You want to get married right away? This week?”

“As soon as we can. We could fly to Las Vegas tonight.”

“Fly?”

“I’ve got a pilot’s license. We can charter a small private plane for the trip. Would you mind?”

“I guess not,” Cherry said, overwhelmed by the speed at which things were moving.

“The more I think about it, the more I like the whole idea. Getting married would certainly spike Penelope’s guns.”

Cherry gnawed on her lower lip. “If you’re looking for someone who’d be an asset in court, maybe you ought to reconsider taking me as your wife. My reputation’s almost as bad as yours.”

“You’re a Whitelaw,” Billy said. “That means something around this part of Texas.”

“An adopted Whitelaw,” Cherry reminded him. “And I’m not so sure my parents wouldn’t change their minds if they had the chance.”

Billy smiled. “I think we can make this arrangement work for both of us. How about it, Cherry? Will you marry me?”

If Cherry had been anybody except who she was, she would have said no. Any rational person would have. It didn’t make sense to marry a virtual stranger, one who had reportedly made his previous wife miserable. But Cherry wasn’t thinking about Billy or even about herself. She was thinking about his two innocent little girls. If marrying Billy would give them a better chance of staying with their father, she really didn’t think she had any other choice.

“All right, Billy,” she said. “I’ll marry you.”

Billy gave a whoop of joy, swept her up into his arms, and whirled her in a dizzying circle, sending chiffon flying around her.

“Put me down, Billy,” she said, laughing.

He immediately set her on her feet. When she swayed dizzily, he reached out to steady her.

The feel of his strong, callused hands on her bare shoulders sent an unexpected quiver skittering down her spine. She knew she ought to step away, but Billy’s dark eyes held her spellbound.

“Okay now?” he asked, his voice rasping over her.

“I’m fine.” She shivered, belying her words.

“You must be getting chilly.” He slipped an arm around her shoulder that was warm and supportive…and possessive.

She shivered again as he began walking her toward his pickup. Only this time she realized it had nothing to do with the cold.

As Billy held open the pickup door she said as casually as she could, “This will be a marriage in name only, right?”

He closed the door behind her, slid over the hood, got into the cab, and started the pickup before he answered, “That’s right.”

She gave a gusty sigh of relief as the engine roared to life. “Good.”

“We don’t even have to sleep in the same bed,” Billy said as he headed back toward the main road. “You can have the room my housekeeper will be vacating. If I feel the urge for some feminine comfort, I can get what I need from a woman in town.”

“Wait a minute,” Cherry said. “I don’t think I’m going to want my husband satisfying his lustful urges in town.”

“I won’t really be your husband,” Billy reminded her.

“As far as my parents and neighbors and friends are concerned, you will be.”

Billy eyed her cautiously. “What do you suggest?”

“Couldn’t you just…not do it.”

“I’m a man, not a monk,” Billy said.

Cherry pursed her lips thoughtfully. “Then I suppose I’d rather you come to me than go to some other woman.”

“This is starting to sound like a real marriage,” Billy said suspiciously. “I was looking for a temporary solution to both our problems.”

“Oh, you don’t have to worry about me falling in love with you or anything,” Cherry reassured him. “I don’t believe in happily-ever-after.”

“You don’t?”

Cherry shook her head. “Except for the Whitelaws, I’ve never met any married couples who really loved each other. But I can see where it would be unfair to expect you to give up sex for who knows how long. Only, if you don’t mind, I’d rather we had a chance to get to know each other a little better before…you know…”

“Maybe this marriage thing isn’t such a good idea, after all,” Billy said. “You’re just a kid, and—”

“I may be only eighteen,” Cherry interrupted, “but I’ve lived a lifetime since my father died. You don’t have to worry about me. I’ve been in and out of a dozen foster homes. I’ve spent time in juvenile detention. I’ve survived the past four years in a house with seven other adopted brothers and sisters. I’ve come through it all with a pretty good idea of what I want from life. I’m plenty old enough to know exactly what I’m doing.”

“I doubt that,” Billy said. Maybe if he hadn’t been so panicked at the thought of losing Annie and Raejean, he would have taken more time to think the matter over. But marriage to Cherry Whitelaw would solve so many problems all at once, he accepted her statement at face value.

“All right, Cherry. We’ll do this your way. I won’t go looking for comfort in town, and you’ll provide for my needs at home.”

“After we get to know one another,” Cherry qualified.

“After we get to know one another,” Billy agreed.

He turned onto the main highway and headed for the airport. “Will your parents worry if you don’t show up at home tonight?”

“It’s prom night. I was supposed to be staying out all night with some friends of mine and have breakfast with them tomorrow. In fact, if you’ll stop by my friend’s house, I’ve got an overnight bag there with a change of clothes.”

“Good. That’ll leave us about twelve hours to get to Las Vegas and tie the knot before we have to face your parents.”

Cherry pictured that meeting in her mind. Good grief, she thought. The fur is going to fly.

CHAPTER THREE

THE WEDDING CHAPEL in Las Vegas was brightly lit, even at 3:00 a.m. To Cherry’s amazement, they weren’t the only couple getting married at such an ungodly hour. She and Billy had to wait ten minutes for an elderly couple to complete their vows before it was their turn. The longer they waited, the more second thoughts she had. What had she been thinking? Zach was going to be furious. Rebecca was going to cry.

The image she conjured of two identical cherubic six-year-old faces was all that kept her from running for a phone to call Zach and Rebecca to come get her. She tried to recall what Billy’s twins looked like from the last time she had seen them at church. All she could remember were large dark eyes—like Billy’s, she realized now—in small, round faces.

What qualities had they gotten from their mother? Cherry tried to remember how Laura Trask had looked the few times she had seen her. Did the twins have delicate noses like hers? Determined chins? Bowed lips? Had they remained petite like their mother, or become tall and raw-boned like their father?

“If you keep chewing on your lip like that, you’re going to gnaw it right off.”

Startled, Cherry let go of her lower lip and turned to find Billy behind her.

“Here,” he said, handing her a bouquet of gardenias. “I got them from a vendor out in front of the chapel. I thought you might like to carry some flowers.”

“Thank you, Billy.” Cherry took the bouquet with a hand that shook. “I guess I’m a little nervous.”

“Me, too,” he admitted.

Cherry wished he would smile. He didn’t.

“The bouquet was a lovely thought.” She raised it to her nose and sniffed. And sneezed. And sneezed again. “I must be—achoo!”

“Allergic,” Billy finished, the smile appearing as he retrieved the bouquet from her and set it on an empty folding chair. “Forget the flowers. There are blooms enough in your cheeks for me.”

“You mean the freckles,” Cherry said, covering her cheeks with her hands. “I know they’re awful, but—”

Billy took her hands in his and kissed her gently on each cheek. “They’re tasty bits of brown sugar. Didn’t anyone ever tell you that?”

Cherry froze as a memory of long ago came to mind. She was sitting on Big Mike’s lap at the supper table. He was alternately taking bites of vanilla ice cream and giving her ice-cold kisses across her nose and cheeks, making yummy sounds in his throat and saying, “Your freckles sure taste sweet, baby.”

Her throat tightened with emotion, and she looked up, half expecting to see Big Mike standing in front of her.

But it was Billy, his brow furrowed as his dark eyes took in the pallor beneath her freckles. “Are you all right? You look like you’re about to faint.”

Cherry stiffened knees that were threatening to buckle. “I’ve never fainted in my life. I don’t expect to start now.”

“Are you folks ready?” the minister asked.

“Last chance to back out,” Billy whispered to Cherry.

The sound tickled her ear, but she managed to stifle the inappropriate giggle that sought voice. This ridiculous wedding ceremony was serious business. “I’m not backing out. But if you’ve changed your mind—”

“I haven’t,” Billy interrupted her.

He tightened his grip on one of her hands and released the other, leading her down the aisle to the makeshift pulpit at the front of the room.

Throughout the ceremony, Cherry kept repeating two things over and over.

Those little girls need me. And, This is the last time I’ll be disappointing Zach and Rebecca. Once I’m married, I won’t be their responsibility anymore.

She was concentrating so hard on convincing herself she was doing the right thing that she had to be prompted to respond when the time came. “Cherry?”

She turned and found Billy’s eyes on her. Worried again. And I won’t be a burden to Billy Stonecreek, either, she added for good measure. “What is it, Billy?”

“Your turn to say I do.”

Cherry gave Billy a tremulous smile and said, “I do.” It was more of a croak, actually, but when Billy smiled back, she knew it was all right.

“Rings?” the minister asked.

“We don’t have any,” Billy replied.

The minister pulled open a drawer in a credenza behind him, and she heard a tinny clatter. To Cherry’s amazement, the drawer was full of fake gold rings.

“Help yourself,” the minister said.

Cherry watched Billy select a plain yellow band and try it on her finger. Too small. The next was too big. The third was also a little loose, but because she wanted the awkward moment over with she said, “This one’s fine, Billy.”

“That’ll be ten dollars extra,” the minister said.

She saw the annoyed look that crossed Billy’s face and pulled the ring off. “I don’t need a ring.”

Billy caught it before it could drop into the drawer and put it back on her finger. He caught her chin and lifted it so she was forced to look at him. “I’m sorry, Cherry. I should have thought of getting you a ring. This is so…”

Cheap? Tawdry? Vulgar? Cherry knew what he was thinking, but couldn’t bring herself to say it, either. “Don’t worry about it, Billy. It doesn’t matter.”

“You deserve better.”

“It’s not a real marriage. I don’t need a real ring,” Cherry said quietly so the minister wouldn’t overhear.

Billy let go of her chin. He opened his mouth as though to speak and closed it again. Finally he said, “I guess you’re right. This one will have to do. Shall we get this over with?”

They turned back to the minister, and he finished the ceremony. “You may kiss the bride,” the minister said at last.

It wasn’t a real wedding, so Cherry wasn’t expecting a real kiss. To her surprise, Billy put his hands on either side of her face and murmured, “The ring is phony, but at least this can be real.”

Cherry had done her share of kissing. Experimenting with sex was an age-old method of teenage rebellion. She thought she knew everything there was to know about kissing and sex. It was no big deal. Boys seemed to like it a lot, but she didn’t understand what all the fuss was about.

Something odd happened when Billy Stonecreek’s lips feathered across hers. An unexpected curl of desire flitted across her belly and shot up to her breasts. Her hands clutched fistfuls of his Western shirt as his mouth settled firmly over hers. His tongue traced the seam of her closed lips, causing them to tingle. She opened her mouth, and his tongue slipped inside for a quick taste of her.

She made a sound in her throat somewhere between confusion and protest.

His hand slid around to capture her nape and keep her from escaping.

Cherry wasn’t going anywhere. She was enthralled by what Billy was doing with his lips and teeth and tongue. She had never felt anything remotely like it. Before she was ready, the kiss ended.

She stared, bemused, into Billy’s hooded eyes. His lips were still damp from hers, and she didn’t resist the impulse to reach out and touch.

His hand clamped around her wrist like a vise as her fingertips caressed his lips. “Don’t.” His voice was harsh, and his lips pressed flat in irritation.

Cherry realized her reaction, her naive curiosity, must have embarrassed him. The kiss had merely been a token of thanks from Billy. He didn’t want anything from her in return.

She had told him she didn’t want to be touched until they knew each other better. But she had touched him. She had set the ground rules, and then she hadn’t followed them.

It wasn’t a real marriage. She had to remember that.

There were papers to sign and collect before they could leave. The minister was in a hurry, because two more couples had arrived and were awaiting their turns. Minutes after the ceremony ended, she and Billy were back in the rental car they had picked up at the airport.

Billy finally broke the uncomfortable silence that had fallen between them. “I don’t know about you, but I could use a few hours of sleep before we fly back. We have the time. Your parents won’t start missing you until noon.”

“I must admit I feel exhausted,” Cherry said. But she wasn’t sure whether it was fatigue or a delayed reaction to their strange wedding. She had never wanted to get married, but that didn’t mean she hadn’t fantasized about having a grand wedding. She had imagined wearing a white satin gown with a train twenty feet long, having at least three bridesmaids, and hearing the wedding processional played on an immense pipe organ. This ceremony had fallen far short of the fantasy.

“Regrets?” Billy asked.

Cherry stared at him, surprised at his intuitiveness. “Were my thoughts that transparent?”

“I can’t imagine any woman wanting to get married the way we did. But drastic situations sometimes require drastic solutions. In this case I believe the end—we’re now legally husband and wife—justifies the means.”

Cherry hoped Zach would see the logic in such an argument.

The hotel Billy chose was outlined in pink and white neon and advertised a honeymoon suite in the center of a pink neon heart. “At least we’re sure they’ve got a honeymoon suite here,” Billy said with a cheeky grin.

Cherry laughed breathlessly. “Why would we need a honeymoon suite?”

“It’s probably going to have a bigger bed than the other rooms,” Billy said. “It’ll be more comfortable for someone my size.”

“Oh,” Cherry said.

“That almost sounded like disappointment,” Billy said. “I agreed to wait until you’re ready to make it a real marriage. Are you telling me you’re ready?”

“No, Billy. I’m not.”

He didn’t say anything.

“Are you disappointed?” Cherry asked.

“I guess grooms have fantasies about their wedding nights the way brides have fantasies about their weddings,” Billy conceded with a grin. “Yeah. I suppose I am. But I’ll survive.”

Cherry wondered if Billy was remembering his first wedding night. She knew she looked nothing like Laura Trask. She wasn’t the least bit petite. Her hair wasn’t golden blond, and she didn’t move with stately grace. She had a million freckles that speckled her milk-white skin and frizzy hair that changed color depending on the way the sun struck it. She had a small bosom that had no freckles at all and absolutely no intention of letting the groom find that out for himself tonight. No, this was not a night for fulfilling fantasies.

She followed Billy inside the hotel with the overnight bag she had picked up at her friend’s house, so they weren’t entirely without luggage. She pressed the ring tight against her fourth finger with her thumb so it wouldn’t slip off. She stood at Billy’s shoulder while he registered and got a key card for the door.

They took the elevator to the top floor and found the honeymoon suite at the end of the hall. Billy used the key card to open the door.

Before she could say anything, Billy picked her up and carried her over the threshold. She was wearing the jeans and T-shirt she had put on to replace the torn chiffon dress and she could feel the heat of him everywhere his body touched hers.

Her arm automatically clutched at his shoulder to help him support her weight, but she realized when she felt the corded muscles there, that he didn’t need any help. He carried her over to the bed and let her drop.

She bounced a couple of times and came to rest. “Good grief,” she said, staring at the heart-shaped bed. “How do they expect two people to sleep on something shaped like this?”

He wiggled his eyebrows. “I don’t think they expect you to sleep, if you know what I mean.” He dropped onto the bed beside her and stretched out on his back with his hands behind his head on one of the pillows. “It’s nowhere near as big as it looked in neon, either.”

Cherry scooted as far from him as she could, but although there was plenty of room for two pillows at the top of the bed, the bottom narrowed so their feet ended up nearly touching.

Billy toed off one cowboy boot, then used his stockinged foot to shove off the other boot. He reached for the phone beside the bed. “I’ll ask for an eight o’clock wake-up call,” he said. “That’ll give us time to fly back before noon.”