The Marriage Season Read online

  Will the marriage pact be fulfilled? Return to Mustang Creek, Wyoming, with #1 New York Times bestselling author Linda Lael Miller for more Brides of Bliss County!

  Since Hadleigh, Melody and Bex—the best of best friends—entered into a marriage pact, two of them have found (and married) the men of their hearts. But Bex doesn’t think she’ll be as fortunate as the others. Her own first love died years ago in a faraway war, and Bex has lost hope for a happy marriage of her own. She concentrates on her business, a successful chain of fitness clubs, instead.

  Then, when single father Tate Calder comes to Mustang Creek with his two sons in tow, who befriend Bex’s eight-year-old nephew, she and the handsome, aloof newcomer are constantly thrown together. But is the marriage season over? Or can a man with doubts about love be the right husband for a woman who wants it all?

  Praise for #1 New York Times bestselling author

  “Miller has found a perfect niche with charming western romances and cowboys who will set readers’ hearts aflutter. Funny and heartwarming, The Marriage Pact will intrigue readers by the first few pages. Unforgettable characters with endless spunk and desire make this a

  must-read.”

  —RT Book Reviews

  “Fans of Linda Lael Miller will fall in love with The Marriage Pact and without a doubt be waiting for the next installments… Her ranch-based westerns have always entertained and stayed with me long after reading them.”

  —Idaho Statesman

  “For readers who like their contemporary romances Western, slightly dangerous and graced with enlightened bad-boy heroes.”

  —Library Journal on the Montana Creeds series

  “An engrossing, contemporary western romance… Miller’s masterful ability to create living, breathing characters never flags; combined with a taut story line and vivid prose, Miller’s romance won’t disappoint.”

  —Publishers Weekly on McKettrick’s Pride

  (starred review)

  “Miller’s name is synonymous with the finest in western romance. From the hard realities of life in an untamed land to the passionate people who bring the colorful history to life, she brings the best of the West to readers, never failing to deliver a great read!”

  —RT Book Reviews on McKettrick’s Choice

  Also available from

  and HQN Books

  The Brides of Bliss County The Marriage Charm The Marriage Pact

  The Parable series Big Sky Secrets

  Big Sky Wedding

  Big Sky Summer

  Big Sky River

  Big Sky Mountain

  Big Sky Country

  McKettricks of Texas An Outlaw’s Christmas A Lawman’s Christmas McKettricks of Texas: Austin McKettricks of Texas: Garrett McKettricks of Texas: Tate The Creed Cowboys The Creed Legacy

  Creed’s Honor

  A Creed in Stone Creek Stone Creek

  The Bridegroom

  The Rustler

  A Wanted Man

  The Man from Stone Creek The McKettricks A McKettrick Christmas McKettrick’s Heart McKettrick’s Pride McKettrick’s Luck

  McKettrick’s Choice Mojo Sheepshanks Deadly Deceptions

  Deadly Gamble

  The Montana Creeds A Creed Country Christmas Montana Creeds: Tyler Montana Creeds: Dylan Montana Creeds: Logan Coming Soon

  Christmas in Mustang Creek

  Dear Reader,

  Thank you for joining me in Bliss County once again! It’s a great place to visit during the summer (well, at all times of year, but I think it’s fair to say that Wyoming is uniquely beautiful right now). And of course June is the traditional wedding month, hence my title—The Marriage Season.

  In this story Becca (Bex) Stuart, the third member of the girlfriend trio that also includes Melody Hogan and Hadleigh Galloway, gets her turn to find the man who’s right for her—and that man is Tate Calder, widower and single dad. I love to write about kids—and animals—so this gives me a chance to do both!

  You won’t be surprised that the story focuses on some of my favorite themes: the importance of family, friends and community, as well as the possibility of second chances, especially when it comes to love. And, as always, the setting is crucial to my storytelling, that setting being the American West. Places like this (Wyoming, with its stunning landscape, its mountains and rivers and ranches, its lovely small towns) really shape people and their lives. That’s certainly true for Bex and her friends; in Tate’s case, it reshapes his life, since he’s a newcomer to Mustang Creek. And of course meeting Bex changes his life, too! And that of his sons…

  I hope you enjoy The Marriage Season and that you’ll visit Mustang Creek again this Christmas. Please visit my website, lindalaelmiller.com, and share your thoughts about the story, the setting, my blogs or anything else you want to talk about. Check it out for news of my upcoming books and contests, too.

  Wishing you, your family (and pets!) a lovely and restful summer—or an exciting one, if that’s what you prefer…

  With love,

  For Kate, the lifesaver. Thank you!

  Contents

  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

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  THE SEASON

  EXCERPT

  CHAPTER ONE

  LEAVES FLOATED DOWN like rain and littered the path with bright color, red and aspen gold. The air had a crisp bite to it, clean and fresh, the scent of autumn. Above, the sky was cloudless, a pure Wyoming blue.

  Perfect training weather.

  Becca “Bex” Stuart flashed by another runner with a nod. The trail was busy on this Saturday morning. Mustang Creek had put in a series of municipal paths specifically for walking, biking and running, and the money had, in her opinion, been well spent. She sure took advantage of her tax dollars every chance she got.

  Just a light run. That was her goal this fine morning. Luckily, Bex had access, thanks to her business, to the finest athletic equipment available, so she could get an accurate time. The upcoming marathon was the usual 26.2 miles, and her strategy was to gradually work up to that. And then she’d begin tapering down. By next Saturday she should be ready.

  Her friends thought she was insane.

  From experience, because this wasn’t her first endurance race, Bex knew they could be right. Mile nineteen was where you just wanted to chuck it all and quit, but if you got past it…you were home free.

  Her phone, clipped to her shorts, beeped.

  A text.

  She could read it as she ran; however, she couldn’t answer, not without stopping, and she wasn’t going to stop now.

  It was from one of her best friends, Melody, recently married, so now Mrs. Spencer Hogan.

  Meet us at the ranch for lunch? Hadleigh and I want to talk to you.

  It was, according to her high-tech pedometer, a manageable time frame as long as they meant around noon. She was able to type K without breaking stride.

  There was definitely a shower in her future before she sat down with other human beings to eat—as a favor to them. Despite the cool tempe
rature, Bex was perspiring, as she should be, or she wasn’t trying hard enough.

  “Bex? Bex Stuart?”

  Male voice. Familiar.

  The sound jarred Bex out of her endorphin haze, brought the world around her back into focus.

  She’d just reached the second loop around Pioneer Park, and the place was filled with small, noisy kids celebrating life in general. The male voice belonged to Tate Calder, she saw with dismay, his two young sons among the crowd of children crawling all over the playground equipment.

  Tate looked, as usual, put together and handsome with his clean-cut features, wavy chestnut hair and dark eyes. He wore a leather jacket and nice jeans, while she was arrayed in the scruffiest outfit she owned—and, naturally, sweaty, as well.

  Great.

  “Hi,” she said. Not exactly brilliant, but polite at least. A little breathless, Bex ran in place, her body on autopilot. Keep that heart rate up.

  Not that it was a problem. Just looking at this man seemed to have an aerobic effect on her.

  She’d encountered Tate two or three times before, since he was a friend of Hadleigh’s husband, Tripp, both men having flown for the same company as charter pilots back in the day, before Tripp decided it was time to sell the firm and come home to Mustang Creek.

  Tate’s dark eyes were amused, missing nothing. “How’ve you been?”

  “Good.” Now there was a snappy answer. Yes, she was on a conversational roll, all right, a regular genius with words.

  Tate grinned. “You seem to be in a hurry, so I won’t hold you up. Tripp tells me you’re training for a marathon.” A brief, measured pause. Meaning what? “Really?”

  “Really,” Bex replied. She managed a small smile, friendly enough, but wobbly. “Nice to see you,” she said, trying to distance herself from him, still running. Still going nowhere fast. “What can I say? Guess I’m a glutton for punishment.” Terrific. More snappy repartee. Annoyed with herself, she sprinted off, probably improving her time slightly, since she didn’t particularly want him to remember her with a shiny face and a messy ponytail.

  Of all the luck.

  Make that bad luck.

  Tate was tempting as hell, no denying that, but Bex got the nearly subliminal impression that he was as wary of involvement as she was. His wife had died, and she’d lost Will in Afghanistan—it wasn’t hard to do the psychological math.

  Thoughts in a muddle, Bex finished her run and headed for home. There, she took a hot shower, put on her favorite red sweater and black jeans and, perhaps as a nod to the cosmic forces that governed vanity, she spent a few extra minutes doing her hair and adding lip gloss.

  Satisfied that she looked okay, Bex left the house, got into her sporty SUV and, after making a brief stop downtown, zipped off to meet Mel and Hadleigh.

  Reaching the Galloway ranch minutes later, Bex felt a twinge, a bittersweet sensation somewhere in the back of her heart. Tucked among the looming mountains, crystalline streams and venerable trees, the house and barn and other outbuildings—even the fences and corrals—seemed to belong there, organic to the landscape itself.

  Tripp had taken over the place after his stepfather, Jim, long a widower, had finally remarried and moved into town. The house itself wasn’t fancy, but it was spacious and solid and homey, with a welcoming air.

  Secretly, Bex had always wanted to live in the country. She loved her work, felt she was making a genuine contribution to people’s health and all-around well-being by furthering the cause of fitness through her ever-expanding business. And, if not actually country, Mustang Creek was certainly no clamoring metropolis. There was something…nurturing about being out here, with all this unspoiled nature.

  Before she could even get out of the car, Mel and Hadleigh stepped onto the side porch, smiling and waving.

  Both her friends were pregnant, and both of them were more beautiful than ever.

  Bex felt a pang of affection, tinged, alas, with mild envy.

  Hadleigh was farther along than Melody, her baby bump more pronounced. She’d married first, and she and Tripp had been eager to start their family.

  All systems go.

  Melody, running a close second, was just starting to show, a bit rounder than usual, her loose shirt disguising her pregnancy. If you didn’t know her, you’d never guess, but they’d all been friends since they were six years old, so Bex was attuned to every change. She was living this with them, sharing the experience in a way, and she couldn’t have been more pleased by their obvious happiness.

  They really did glow.

  They knew Bex felt slightly left out—there wasn’t much Melody and Hadleigh didn’t know about her—and they not only understood, they were also convinced her turn at marital bliss and motherhood would come. Soon.

  When Bex’s own hopes flagged, these two never failed to notice and offer encouragement. She was so lucky to have them in her life.

  That choked her up for a moment, brought the sting of tears to her eyes. Romantic flings, career highs, fun times—all those things came and went, but friendships like theirs were as permanent as bedrock.

  She paused, took a breath and squared her shoulders.

  “I brought dessert,” she announced cheerfully. “Don’t kill me, but it’s those puff pastries from Madeline’s. You guys can’t drink wine or coffee, so you need some sort of vice.” She paused, chuckling. Some fitness guru she was, she thought wryly. “One pastry won’t hurt.” This was true enough, in her opinion. One pastry wouldn’t do any harm. The problem arose when the rate of consumption ratcheted up to three or four tasty treats—or ten. Feeling cocky, she added, “Considering that I just ran eighteen miles, I can afford a reasonable level of indulgence.”

  Motormouth, her inner moderator gibed.

  “Give me that bag.” Hadleigh grabbed for it as Bex came up the steps. “I’m having mine before lunch, so no lectures on nutrition, please. And if Tripp has the gall to say a word—he has the metabolism of a shark, the rat fink—I consider it your solemn duty as my friends to drop him in his tracks.” Paper rustled as she peered inside the bag. Sniffed appreciatively. “Oh, dear heaven,” she lamented happily, in a near moan, nudging Melody lightly with one elbow as she spoke, “it’s the ones with lemon whipped cream.”

  “Yep,” Bex confirmed with a twinkle. Judging by the current reactions, if she hadn’t surrendered the bag willingly, one or both of these watermelon smugglers would have tackled her for it.

  Melody, feigning greed, made a comical effort to snatch the fragrant sack from Hadleigh’s hands, and Hadleigh, in turn, pretended to dodge the move.

  “Hey, share and share alike,” Melody said with a grin. “If you think you’re going to snarf up my share right along with your own, sister, think again.”

  Hadleigh laughed, still employing diversion tactics, an awkward endeavor under the circumstances, and Bex wondered if the third pastry, intended to be hers, would survive this good-natured tussle.

  Hadleigh correctly read Bex’s expression. Yes, she was fit and yes, she ran a fitness empire, but she loved Madeline’s lemon-cream dreams as much as anybody did. “You can drink wine,” Hadleigh continued, cheerfully accusatory. “We can’t. Coffee?” She waved one hand in a dismissive gesture while holding the pastry bag just out of Melody’s reach with the other. “Gone. A distant memory.”

  Bex had to giggle at her friend’s histrionics.

  Hadleigh took in her friend’s trim figure with a mock glower. “Laugh if you want, Becca Jean Stuart, but one of these days, you’ll be pregnant and craving all kinds of things you can’t have, and we’ll be the ones rubbing it in.”

  “Yeah,” Melody agreed staunchly, making another grab for the bag.

  For all the joking around, a whisper of sadness brushed Bex’s soul.

  If Will, Hadleigh’s older brother and the love of Bex’s life, had made it home from Afghanistan, everything would be so different.

  She’d loved Will Stevens so much.

  Maybe the phr
ase, “better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all,” was poignant, but it really didn’t offer much comfort in reflective moments like this one.

  Tough up, woman, Bex told herself. Then, after a beat or two, when she could trust her voice again, she went on. “Once you two get a handle on dessert, what’s on the menu for lunch?” she teased. “I heard a rumor that we were going to eat an actual meal, and I could use some sustenance here.”

  Hadleigh closed the bakery bag and rolled it shut with a little sigh of resignation. “I made spinach lasagna,” she answered. “Garlic bread, too. The guys will be here soon, so maybe we ought to fill our plates before they get back with the boys.”

  “Boys?” Bex asked cautiously. Guys usually meant Tripp and Spence. Boys implied someone else.

  “Tate and his sons,” Hadleigh explained airily.

  It figured, Bex thought, unsurprised. She was going to have to deal with Tate Calder twice in one day? Just one more indication that God had a sense of humor.

  Cosmic complaints department? This is Bex Stuart and I—

  Please hold for the next available operator. Your call is very important to us…

  *

  THERE SHE WAS.

  Again.

  Tate had spotted Becca right away, back at the park. With looks like hers, she would’ve been hard to miss. She was trim, compact, with the kind of curves that drew a man’s eye, even beneath baggy sweatpants and a faded T-shirt. And then there was all that silky hair, trying to fight its way out of a crooked ponytail.

  At the time, he’d hesitated to say anything because he was rusty, to say the least, when it came to the whole man-woman interaction thing. Out of practice.

  This particular woman stirred him, deep down, in ways he couldn’t quite explain, rational thinker that he was. She made him want to take chances again, live for himself as well as his children.