Wyatt closed his eyes while he waited for Amy to return. The night had been something new for him. A gathering of family without bickering and resentment. People who could interact, even enjoy each other’s company. If his people had been able to do it, his early life could have been much different. He took solace in the knowledge Bobby would experience growing up in a supportive environment, unlike the one he’d known. He groaned remembering the way Amy had been treated by his father and brother. How long would she take their guff? She might tire of it and leave him. The thought sent a pang of fear running through him.
He got up and stood by the burning log in the fireplace. The warmth dissolved some of his apprehension, until he remembered his father’s words a few days earlier, “She’s a handsome filly, I’ll grant you that. Have her if you must, but don’t let her put a wedding ring on your finger. Once a woman has you banded, it might as well be a ring in your nose. You’ll be nothing but a prized bull and a lifetime meal ticket.”
He groaned and pulled his hands through his hair. Exhaustion hit him. Where was Amy? Why was she taking so long?
Just then she entered the living room. “Sorry, Bobby woke and I had to get him back into bed. He didn’t want the night to end. He’d had such a good time.” Her smile faded. “What’s wrong?”
He forced a smile. “Everything’s great, tired—I guess.”
“I got this in the mail a while ago, but we’ve been so busy.” She held the small box and grinned as if she had a treasure to show him.
A chill ran down his spine when the gold ring glistened in the firelight.
“Want to try it on to make sure it fits? Wouldn’t like to be in the church and struggle to get it on in front of everyone.”
“No,” he said too loudly. Out of the box, he turned the circle of gold in his hand, the carved leaves similar to the ones he’d had designed on her wedding band. It was obvious she taken time to match the creation he’d had his jeweler friend make. Even so, it burned as if it were a piece of molten lava. What would his buddies think? Confirmed bachelor, Wyatt Cameron, was branded.
“It’s beautiful.” Even to his ears his voice lacked enthusiasm. It was gorgeous, just not for him.
“You don’t like it. I can change it.”
“It’s not that.” How could he phrase it without pissing her off? “Amy, the kind of work I do—I don’t wear jewelry.” His father words pounded in his head. Once you’re banded you’ll be nothing more than her prized bull.
“It’s not jewelry. It’s a vow. Our promise to each other.” She was about to cry. He could see moisture gathering in her eyes.
“Honey, I know. It’s just–I never considered...”
“You gave me a ring,” she interrupted.
“That’s different.”
“How?” She glared at him. Her sadness changing to anger.
“Well.” He didn’t want to get into this now. They were both exhausted and they’d spent a nice day together. Why ruin it? He’d hope tonight they’d…
“Wyatt.”
“You’re a woman.” He knew it was mistake to put voice to his thought, but as far as he could see, women wanted a wedding ring on their finger, and most men tried to avoid it.
“I didn’t know what a sexist pig you are.”
“Now you’ve done it.” She’d hit his Achilles heel and his ire rose. Okay, the rodeo business was accused of breeding chauvinistic men and well as bronc riders. Still, he’d made it his job to avoid guys with that attitude. He’d seen what his father had done to his mother and he wasn’t going there. But a ring wasn’t the same thing.
“Amy, that’s not fair. I want to marry you, just don’t want to wear a band.”
She snapped the box closed and the harsh sound echoed in the room. “Well then, I know where I stand.” She paused, but her eyes flashed with hurt when she turned toward him. “I’d never have believed you of all men were so damned…”
Silent, they stood facing each other. A log crackled in the fireplace, but the flame he’d seen in her eyes had definitely gone out.
He took offence at her need to mark him as hers. Hell, they appeared in the newspaper for damned sake, Telling the world, they’d marry in June. What more did she want of him? “I thought you trusted me.”
“I do trust you. I just don’t think any man can withstand the offers you get and not at least wonder, what if.”
“If that’s true, a ring on my finger isn’t going to be enough to stop me.”
“This conversation is getting way out of hand and we’re both tired.” She brushed a tear from her cheek. “I had no idea you felt so strongly about this. Otherwise, I’d never have bothered to go to a custom jeweler and have it made. It was supposed to be a happy surprise.” She tossed the ring box at him and he caught it with a reflex action. “Throw it in the trash if you want to. I don’t care anymore. I’m going to bed.”
As he watched her, he knew she wasn’t going to be in his bed as he’d planned. Maybe she’d never be there again. “Damn.”
What should he do now?
***
Amy and Wyatt had barely spoken to each other in the two days after she’d shown him the wedding ring. They’d worked in the orchard, but in separate areas. She’d made dinner for him and then gave Bobby his usual attention. As soon as supper was finished, Wyatt retired to the cottage.
She wanted them to go back to their old routine, but life had changed. She wasn’t ready to say she didn’t care about the wedding band. It appeared he wasn’t ready to let her have her way.
After a fitful night sleep, she woke and went to the kitchen before Bobby was up. She found a handwritten note on the fridge in the kitchen. Amy, I’ll be out of town for about a week. After the rodeo circuit, I’m visiting an old friend in Seattle, Ben Wong. He’s an experienced logger and a mill worker. Hoping he’ll join our crew and help Manny and me get the Sierra Creek Mill up and running again. W.
He signed it “W.” He didn’t even write his name, let alone say love or I’ll miss you. Damn him. She pushed her glasses out of the way and rubbed her eyes.
After dressing, she walked Bobby to the end of the road and waited until he was picked up by the school bus. With a kiss and a wave, she watched the bus drive away.
Alone and at a loss without Wyatt, she groaned. Why had she demanded he wear the stupid ring? Was it that important if it meant she’d lose him? If that wasn’t enough, she’d called him a sexist pig. She moaned. Sometimes her mouth moved too fast for her brain. Without him, the farm wasn’t the same. The wedding dress she’d dreamed of and taken so long to choose, what importance did it have now?
Today was her final fitting. If all went well, she could bring the gown home. Her shoulders slumped at the thought. It made no difference if there wasn’t going to be a ceremony.
As she jogged back toward the farmhouse, a car honked. A Toyota rolled up beside her. She stared at the driver. “Vanna.”
“Amy, better get going we were supposed to leave ten minutes a go.” Her friend smiled.
“I know. My rear has been dragging. Bobby almost missed the bus because I was late making his breakfast.”
“Get in. I’ll drive you back to the farmhouse.”
***
“Not much traffic today,” Vanna said as her sedan weaved in and out of the cars on Sacto’s streets.” “We’ll be there on schedule.”
“You should’ve been a race car driver.” Amy held onto the seat as her friend negotiated a sharp right-hand turn.
The wedding salon was just as Amy remembered. All the women still dressed in shades of pink, though now the dresses and suits were of a different style.
“Someone must be making a fortune selling pink fabric,” Vanna joked.
“Yeah and where do you get so many pink shoes?” Amy added, determined not to let her friend know any problems existed between Wyatt and her.
She glanced in the dressing room mirror. With her eyes bright and her skin healthy, who would know her heart was filled with regrets?
“To show respect to the fancy salon, I wore pumps and black slacks and a silk shirt. I didn’t buy the shoes they gave to wear last time.” Amy said.
“The shoes will certainly give you a better idea of how the dress will hang.”
“I dressed up too, fuchsia colored cross-trainers.” Vanna did a little gig and chuckled.
In spite of her gray mood, she giggled too. “OMG, the sales staff is going to want to know where you got those. Their feet must be killing them by the end of the day.”
Without ceremony, a middle-aged woman entered. Not dressed in a pink but black and white, she carried two stemmed glasses on a silver tray. She set the tray on a little table next to a club chair.
“Hey, where’s the hunk that brought us wine last time we visited? I want him to serve us.” Vanna winked at Amy.
“You’re embarrassing me and you haven’t even had the wine yet.” Amy elbowed her friend.
Vanna chuckled.
“Your sales associate will be here in a second,” the woman said ignoring Vanna and without cracking a smile. “She’s retrieving your gown.” She beat a fast retreat out of the room.
“Bet she’s glad this is your last appointment.” Vanna giggled.
“Me? You’re the one giving her a hard time. When you look for a wedding dress you may have to go to another salon,” Amy teased
“No worries there.” Vanna’s expression turned serious. “I’ll never marry.”
“Sure, you will. A beautiful, smart, fun woman like you?” Her friend wouldn’t gaze in her direction, seeming to be distracted by an old wedding catalogue.
“Vanna?”
“Drink the wine, Amy.”
A glass fluted in hand, Amy took a gulp.
“Here’s your gown, sweetie.” The same sales woman she’d seen last time, waltzed in holding a dress. She was followed by a younger woman clothed in a salmon colored sheath with matching flats.
“Put the shoe box down and you may leave,” the older woman said.
The young sales clerk did what she was told and disappeared without saying a word.
“Now before you put on the dress, I have something to show you.” She held the box as if it was buried treasure. Last time you mentioned a country wedding.”
“Yes.”
“You must have these. Suede cowgirl boots with two and a half inch heels, easy for walking on the farm,” the woman said.
“They’re pink!” Amy cried out before she could edit her thought. This woman obviously loved the color.
“Of course, my dear. You said this was your second marriage and at our last appointment you had concerns about wearing all white.”
“Whoa, if you don’t want the boots, I’ll take them.” Vanna held them up. “I’ve never seen anything like these. Gorgeous.”
Amy admired the tooled leather work in the shape of a rose on the side of each boot “They are pretty, but I…”
“Try them on,” Vanna urged her.
“Slip into your dress first.” The sales person helped her step in the tea length gown with a tulle skirt and strapless lace bodice studded with seed pearls, a “V” neckline and plunging back. “Don’t look until you have the shoes on, and then turn around.” She helped Amy adjust the dress and pull on the boots. “Here’s your grandmother’s veil. Let me help you.” With deft hands, the sales woman made quick work of the job, positioning the headband in just the right place. “You’re going to love it. Take a look, dear.”
Amy gasped. “I can’t believe it’s me. I look—pretty. I love the boots!”
“You’re beautiful,” Vanna said. “Are you all right, Amy? You look like you’re going to cry.”