Thunderbolt over Texas

Twelve

Two weeks later Sydney was seriously rethinking her decision to marry Cole. But the Laurent was already poised for the Viking antique show, Grandma had already pinned the Thunderbolt to the bodice of Sydney’s wedding gown and, most importantly, Sydney had already said “I do.”

In the brand-new hay barn down the driveway from Cole’s cabin, all eyes were on the bride and groom. The small band launched into the bridal waltz, and Cole pulled Sydney into his arms.

The floor was rough, and the walls were bare wood. But the acoustics were impressive, and they danced together like they made love together, every movement in sync, every breath in harmony. She could swear their heartbeats had synchronized.

“Relax,” he whispered into her ear, gathering her close.

“I’m trying.”

“Think about the Thunderbolt,” he advised. “You’re going to be a very famous woman.”

“And so, I’m a success,” she said on a forced laugh, fighting to keep it from turning into a tear.

His hand stroked up and down her back, just barely touching her exposed skin where the dress veed between her shoulder blades. Ironic that the very man who was tearing her heart out was also comforting her.

She subconsciously moved closer to the heat of his body, his scent taking her back days and weeks to the tiny bedroom on the shores of Blue Creek. She could almost hear the clock ticking as he messed with time.

He settled his arm more securely across the small of her back while the singer crooned his way through a wholly inappropriate Shania Twain tune.

“Are you remembering?” Cole whispered.

“No,” she lied.

He bent closer to her ear, his breath puffing in warm bursts. “I sure am.”

“Don’t.” Memories could kill her. They were killing her.

“No matter what happened,” he rasped, swaying to the strains of promises and love for the rest of their lives. “No matter what I said and did that can never be fixed. I want you to know that you rocked my world.”

“Cole,” she moaned.

“For as long as I live, I’ll see you in that billowing bed with strawberry-stained lips and tousled hair, sharing my secrets, looking out for my family.”

“Please stop.”

“I’m so sorry, Sydney.”

She shook her head. “It’s not you.”

He gathered her closer still. “Well, it’s sure as hell not you.”

“Maybe it’s us.”

“Maybe it was circumstances.”

She dared to look up at him. “Does it really matter anymore?”

It was over between them. Not that they’d ever had a chance. He was her ticket to the Thunderbolt, nothing more. That he was the lover of a lifetime had messed things up, and that she had to lie to him had messed things up. But even without the lies, without the lovemaking, the best she could have hoped for is exactly where they were now-going into a sham marriage to circumvent a will.

He sighed against the top her head. “I hate leaving things unsettled between us.”

“We’re settled.” She was getting better and better at lying.

“No, we’re not.”

The band moved into the third chorus, and the lyrics all but pierced Sydney’s heart.

“What do you need to settle it, Cole? To know that I’m sorry I lied to you?”

“No.” He pulled back, cupping her face in his palms. “That’s not what I meant.”

To her surprise, he captured her lips in a long, soulful kiss.

Ridiculous hope fluttered to life as the song built to a crescendo of everlasting love.

She pulled back, intent on saving her sanity. “There are two hundred people watching us.”

“Lucky them.”

“Cole.”

“Just tell me you forgive me.”

“For what?”

He chuckled softly as the band held the final note. “Right.”

“Seriously, Cole. What?”

He stared into her eyes.

The note faded to silence and the audience burst into applause.

Kyle appeared next to Cole’s shoulder. “I believe it’s the best man’s turn.”

Cole plucked an ice-cold beer from the bar in the corner of his new barn.

Sydney needed to forgive him for insulting her. She needed to forgive him for threatening to have her arrested. And she also needed to forgive him for not recognizing she was the most wonderful woman on the planet.

He’d picked that sappy song himself, hoping by some miracle she’d know he meant it.

She hadn’t.

He briefly acknowledged the congratulations from one of his neighbors, but he didn’t engage Clyde in conversation. He wanted to fade into the shadows and watch Sydney sway in Kyle’s arms, since tonight might be the last time he saw her.

The song ended and he checked the impulse to rush back to her side.

She glanced around, then glided across the floor, her dress flowing softly around her ankles. A few people stopped her to exchange words, Cole’s neighbors, Sydney’s co-workers. Then a man cut in front of her, and Cole squinted. He didn’t recognize the guest, but something prickled along his spine.

Her back was to him, but her shoulders tensed as the two began to speak. Cole ditched the beer bottle and headed across the floor.

Halfway there, he recognized Bradley Slander.

He swore under his breath and quickened his pace, shouldering his way between guests. He still couldn’t see Sydney’s expression, but Bradley was way too close.

When Cole got into range, he heard Bradley’s tone dripping with malevolence. “-and so I’m wondering what it feels like to whore yourself for an antique.”

Sydney recoiled, and something exploded inside Cole’s brain. Instinct took over as he crossed the last few yards on a dead run. He grabbed Slander by the collar and slammed him up against the wood wall.

He held him there, nose to nose, forearm jammed against his sternum while Slander’s face turned an interesting shade of maroon.

“I don’t know how things work up in New York,” stormed Cole. “But here in Texas, y’all ’ve got two choices. You can apologize to my wife and get the hell off my land. Or I can blow off your balls and feed them to the dogs.”

Slander’s mouth worked, but nothing came out except raspy squeaks.

“Cole?” came Kyle’s warning voice.

Cole would have broken Slander’s nose for good measure, but he’d already wasted too many minutes of his life on the man, and he needed to make sure Sydney was okay.

He jerked back and let Slander crumple to the floor. Then he turned to look for her.

She stood frozen, a few yards away, her eyes wide as a few people tried to engage her in conversation.

Cole marched to her side and wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her away from the curious guests.

She was shaking.

Fortunately, the band hadn’t seen the altercation, and they played on. He guided Sydney into the middle of the dance floor and gathered her into his arms.

Her glance went to the doorway where Kyle was escorting Slander outside.

Cole turned her so she wouldn’t have to look.

Her voice quavered. “He-”

“He sends his apologies,” said Cole.

She nodded against Cole’s shoulder, her body stiff as a board.

“It’s okay,” he whispered, rubbing a hand up and down her back. “Relax. It’s over. Just dance with me.”

She shook her head against his chest. “He just said what they’re all thinking.”

“No, he didn’t.”

“That I married you for the brooch.”

“They’re all thinking you’re a beautiful bride.”

“They’re wondering why you agreed to marry me. They’re thinking I’m a mercenary.”

“No, they’re not.”

“That’s what Katie thought.”

He tipped her chin up. “For a short time, maybe. But then she got to know you. She knows you’re not a mercenary.”

“But I am.” There was a catch in her voice, and his heart ached.

“We both know the truth, and that’s all that matters.”

She shook her head once more.

He kissed the softness of her hair. “Stop. Just stop.”

“But we don’t, Cole.”

“We don’t what?”

She tilted her chin to look up, eyes glassy and tearful. “You don’t know the truth.”

He squinted at her. Oh, no.

“The truth is, I didn’t marry you for the brooch.”

A chill of fear iced Cole’s spine. He couldn’t take another one of her deceptions. Not here. Not now.

She bit her bottom lip, and her chest rose once, then fell. “I married you because I love you.”

The fear in Cole’s body plummeted through the floor-boards. He gave his head a little shake. She couldn’t have just said those words. It was his own wishful thinking.

“Say that again,” he rasped, fighting the roaring in his ears.

“I love you, Cole,” she repeated.

He squeezed her tight. “Oh, Sydney. I have loved you for…” He stroked his hand slowly over her fragrant hair, marveling that his dreams had actually come true. “Forever, I think.”

Her voice lifted. “You do?”

He kissed her temple. “I do.”

A soft sigh escaped from her, she seemed to melt against him.

“Oh, Cole.

“I know.”

“We’re married.”

“I meant the song.” He cradled her face in his hands. “For as long as I live. I meant every word.”

“I meant my vows,” she whispered.

“I will love you,” he whispered back, “cherish you, honor and keep you.”

“Till death do us part,” she said, finding his hand with her own and twining their fingers together.

“Till death do us part,” he repeated, pulling their joined hands between their bodies as the music swelled. The yellow lights shone through her hair and the scent of the wedding roses filled the new barn.

“I guess we’ll be building that house now,” said Cole, feathering light kisses down her cheek, heading for her soft lips.

“With the turret and the dormer windows.” She sighed against him. “And a breakfast bar and some of those high stools with the curved backs.”

He chuckled. “I guess if I’m going to be a patriarch, I’ll need a big house.”

“A patriarch?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh, great. You’re going to start issuing decrees now, aren’t you?”

“You bet.” He nodded. “Starting tonight, I’m whipping this family into shape.”

“Kyle will never take the land.”

“I know he won’t.” Cole smiled to himself. He’d been working on that one for a while.

“What?” Sydney prompted.

“I’m leaving it to his children.”

“You’re devious.”

“That I am. But you love me, right?”

“I love you,” she said.

“Say it again.”

She pulled back and cupped his face between her soft hands. “I love you, Cole Erickson.”

He sighed. He could listen to that all night long.

“Isn’t there something you want to say to me?” she prompted.

He kissed her softly on the lips. “Hmm. Let me think.”

She dug her elbow into his ribs.

“I love you Sydney…Erickson,” he rumbled.

A funny expression flitted across her face.

“I guess we didn’t talk about names, did we?” He wasn’t going to insist. After all, traditions had to change sometime.

“Sydney Erickson.” She rocked her head back and forth. “I think I like that.” Her lips curved into a smile.

Cole grinned right back, smoothing her hair, kissing her again. They could have a real honeymoon now. He’d planned to hide out in Montana for a week, but he’d go wherever she wanted.

“Hey, Cole.” Kyle danced up to them with Katie in his arms.

Cole nodded to his brother, hugging Sydney close.

“Who was that guy?” Katie asked Sydney.

“Antique vulture,” Sydney answered, and Cole was proud of how quickly she’d recovered from the altercation.

“Won’t ever be back to the Valley,” said Kyle.

Cole nodded his thanks. He should’ve broken Slander’s nose. But then the sheriff might have had to lock him up on his wedding night.

“Thought you two might like to know the wedding worked,” said Katie with a wide smile.

“Sure did,” said Cole, though he wasn’t sure how Katie knew that already. He kissed Sydney’s temple.

“Looks like along about April,” said Katie.

Sydney let out a sudden squeal and pulled away from Cole’s arms.

“What?” asked Cole as his wife embraced his sister-in-law.

“New little Erickson,” said Kyle with wide, sappy grin.

Cole let out a whoop. He reached out and clapped Kyle on the shoulder. “That’s fantastic! Congratulations, little brother.”

“Thanks,” said Kyle.

“Can we talk about splitting the land now?” asked Cole.

“No,” said Kyle.

Cole smiled as he shook his head. “I’m going to win this one.”

Someone tapped his shoulder and he turned.

“Hey, Grandma.” He pulled Sydney back into his arms as Kyle danced off with Katie. “Don’t you just love a good wedding?”

“You know I do,” said Grandma. “And I have something for Sydney.”

Sydney tipped her head questioningly. “For me?”

“This way,” said Grandma with a mysterious wink. “Both of you.”

They followed her through the crowd, past the band, toward the back of the barn where the light was dim and the air was a few degrees cooler.

Cole held Sydney’s hand as they walked, unable to resist sending goofy smiles her way. He couldn’t wait to get her alone.

Or maybe he could. It was fun to show her off. His wife. His wife. And tonight was the first of thousands together.

Yeah, he could wait.

He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed each of her knuckles. He was going to relish every single hour with this woman.

Grandma came to a stop at a back table, rattling something out of a paper bag.

She turned to face Sydney with a very serious expression on her face. “Sydney Erickson.”

Cole squeezed Sydney’s hand. He loved her new name.

“It is my honor,” said Grandma, “to present you with the providence and chronicles of the Thunderbolt of the North.” She handed Sydney a large, leather-bound book.

Sydney’s forearms sagged with the weight of the dark, heavy volume. Cole started to take it from her, then checked the impulse. Her eyes were wide with wonder as she stared down.

Cole blinked in amazement as well. He hadn’t even known such a thing existed.

“It was translated in the mid-1700s,” said Grandma, patting her hand gently on the cover. “I’ve never been sure if it was taken from a written account, or if Sigrid wrote down the oral history. In any event, it’s all here. The life and times of the Thunderbolt.”

Sydney ran her fingers over the embossed cover. “This is absolutely amazing,” she whispered, glancing up at Cole. “It’s priceless.”

Grandma smiled with obvious satisfaction. “And it’s your turn to continue the saga.”

Sydney’s jaw dropped open.

“And I suggest you start with the Thunderbolt’s latest adventure.”

“Are you sure?” asked Sydney. “The entire adventure?”

Grandma patted the book again. “Yes. The whole adventure. The diary deserves no less than the truth.”

Cole wrapped an arm around his grandmother’s thin shoulders and gave her an affectionate squeeze. “Thank you, Grandma.”

Her eyes shimmered bright as she smiled up at him.

“For everything,” he said.

“I was right about Sydney, wasn’t I?”

“You were absolutely right about Sydney.”

“Good. Well, I’ll leave you two alone now,” she said with a quick smile.

“I can’t believe it,” said Sydney, her voice hoarse with awe.

“It couldn’t be in better hands,” said Cole, loving her more by the second.

She shook her head, and her eyes shimmered jewel-bright under the lights. Then she pressed the big book more tightly against her chest. “I never thought it could happen,” she whispered. “But you did it, Cole.”

“I did what?” He searched her eyes. “I fell in love with you?”

She shook her head. “That, too.” Then she reached up and stroked her soft palm against his cheek. “What I meant was, you found my silver locket.”

Ah. His gaze went to the brooch, nestled against the beaded fabric of her wedding dress. “The Thunderbolt.”

She shook her head again. “No. It was never the jewelry.” She smiled. “It was never the things.”

“Then…”

“It was the heritage, the home. I finally realized.” She swayed toward him, and his arms automatically wrapped around her.

“I was searching for the family I never had. And you gave it to me.”

His chest expanded almost painfully.

She was his. She was here forever.

“Welcome home, Sydney,” he whispered against her hair. “We’ve been waiting for you all along.”