Thunderbolt over Texas

“You’re trying to steal my family heirloom. What’s to hear out?” With a firm pat on the horse’s neck, he headed for a nearby shack.

She scrambled to her feet and followed. “I wasn’t going to keep the brooch.”

He opened the door. “Ah. Well, in that case…”

Her spirits rose. “Yes?”

“No.” His answer was flat as he retrieved a wooden box and a battered metal stand.

Once again, he hadn’t let her give enough information for a logical decision. “Are you always this unreasonable?”

“Yes.”

“You are not.”

He pulled the door shut. “Are you always this stubborn?”

“Will you at least listen to my offer?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Have you ever listened to the wedding vows?”

“Of course.”

He started back to the horse. “There’s a little thing in there about loving and honoring and till death do us part. And there’s generally a preacher standing in front of you, along with your family and friends when you make those promises.”

Sydney hesitated. She hadn’t actually thought through the details of the ceremony. She’d pictured something in a courthouse, a minimum number of words, mail-order wedding bands and a chaste kiss at the end.

“I could honor you,” she offered.

He stopped and turned, leaning slightly forward to pin her with a midnight-blue stare. “Could you love me?”

Sydney stilled. What kind of a question was that?

His gaze bore into hers, searching deep, as if sifting through her hopes and fears.

She knew how to love. She’d loved her foster parents. She loved her mother. But those loves turned bittersweet when her parents died in the house fire and her aging foster parents passed away five years ago.

“Hey there, Cole,” came a laughing feminine voice.

Sydney quickly pulled back, shaking off the unsettling memories.

Cole focused his attention over her shoulder.

“Hey, Katie.” He nodded.

“You been holding out on us?” asked the voice.

Sydney turned to see a woman on horseback come to a stop in front of the little shed. She had shoulder-length brown hair tied back in a ponytail. A cowboy hat dangled between her shoulder blades, and her burgundy shirt and crisp blue jeans made her look as if she had ridden out of a Western movie.

Her saddle leather creaked as she dismounted.

“What?” asked Cole. “You wanted to shoe the horses?”

The woman smirked as she led her chestnut horse forward. Then her smile turned friendly and she stretched her hand out to Sydney. “Katie Erickson. Cole’s sister-in-law.”

Sydney reached out to shake the woman’s surprisingly strong hand. “Sydney Wainsbrook.”

“Nice to meet you,” said Katie. She glanced speculatively at Cole for a split second before returning her attention to Sydney. “And what brings you to Blue Earth Valley?”

Sydney took in Cole’s determined expression and decided she had little to lose. “I’m here to marry Cole.”

He sputtered an inarticulate sound.

But Katie shrieked in delight and her horse startled. “So you were holding out on us.”

“She’s only after the Thunderbolt,” said Cole, planting the metal stand with disgust.

But Katie’s attention was all on Sydney. “How long have you known him? Where did you meet?” Her gaze strayed to Sydney’s bare fingers. “Did he propose yet?”

“I proposed to him.”

“She’s after the Thunderbolt,” Cole repeated. “She’s a con artist.”

“I’m a museum curator. I want to display the Thunderbolt. But I really am willing to marry him.”

“She’s-” Cole threw up his hands, turning to pace back to the horse. “Forget it.”

Katie called after him. “Don’t be so hasty, Cole. It sounds like a good offer. And you’re not getting any younger, you know.”

He muttered something unintelligible.

Katie laughed, turning back to Sydney. “From a museum, you say?”

“The Laurent.”

“In New York?”

“Yes.”

Katie’s reaction to the proposition wasn’t nearly as negative as Cole’s. Maybe she would listen to reason. Maybe she would even have some influence over her brother-in-law.

“I was planning to display the Thunderbolt temporarily,” said Sydney, keeping her voice loud enough to be sure Cole would hear. “It would only be a loan.”

“How did you know it went to his wife?” asked Katie.

“Research.”

“And how did you know he wasn’t already married?”

“More research.” Sydney raised her voice again. “I was thinking of something simple and temporary. At the courthouse.”

“A marriage of convenience,” Katie nodded.

“Right.”

“And how would that be convenient for me?” Cole’s hammer came down on a metal horseshoe and the rhythmic clanks echoed through the pasture.

“You could think of it as a public service,” said Sydney.

“I’m not altruistic.”

“You’d bring an important antiquity to the attention of the world.”

“It’s a private possession.”

“It would only be a loan.”

“Why don’t you give up?”

While Sydney formulated a response, Katie spoke up. “Why don’t you come for dinner instead?”

“Katie,” Cole stressed, wiping the sweat from his brow.

“We can talk about it, Cole,” said Katie. “No harm in talking about it.”

Sydney felt a surge of hope. She definitely had an ally in Katie.

“You two can do whatever you want,” said Cole, going back to hammering. “But I’m not coming to dinner.”

“Of course you are,” said Katie.

“Nope.”

“I’ll send Kyle after you.”

“Good luck with that.”

Katie put her hands on her hips and arched one eyebrow.

“You really need to do something about your wife,” said Cole as he leaned on the rail next to the barbecue where his brother was grilling steaks.

Kyle closed the cast-iron lid and joined Cole. “It’s not my fault you can’t say no to her.”

“Can you say no to her?”

“Why would I want to say no to her?”

“Not ever?”

“Not ever.”