He read it. Sure enough, Laurent Museum. Okay, now he was just getting annoyed. The Thunderbolt wasnt a commodity to be bartered. It was a trust, a duty. So was that breakdown nothing but a setup?
What breakdown?
Your car.
My car is fine.
Your car is fried.
You know, I just proposed to you.
He stood up. And you thought Id say yes?
Id hoped-
In what universe? His voice rose, bouncing off the cabin walls. He was offended, offended on behalf of his grandmother, his ancestors and his heirs. In what universe would I agree to marry a complete stranger and give away a family heirloom?
She stood, too. Oh, no. I didnt mean-
I have horses to shoe. He was done listening. She could fix her own car for all he cared, or call a taxi or hoof it up to the main road.
Right now? she asked.
Right now. He scooped a battered Stetson from a hook on the wall and stuffed it on his head.
Sydney watched Cole march out of the small log cabin. Okay, that hadnt gone quite as well as shed hoped. But then again, he hadnt really given her a chance to explain. She wasnt trying to steal the Thunderbolt. She merely wanted to display it for a few months.
She was pulling together a Viking show exceptional enough for front gallery space at the Laurent. With the Thunderbolt as the centerpiece, she would thwart Bradley Slander and save her career. All she needed was the cooperation of one cowboy.
She moved to the cabin door and watched him head up a rise while she contemplated her next move.
The man had the broadest shoulders shed ever seen. Solid as an oak tree, he had a confident stride and a butt that could stop traffic. She watched for a few more steps, then she forced her gaze away. His butt was irrelevant. The marriage would be in name only.
Her focus had to be on the brooch, not on the man. It wasnt as if she could put Cole on display in the front gallery. Although
She squelched a grin and glanced at the rental car.
A breakdown, huh? Car trouble could be her ticket to more time with him. Swallowing the dregs of her coffee, she made up her mind. If that baby wasnt broken down now, it soon would be.
She waited until Cole disappeared over the hill. Then she popped the hood, yanked out some random wires and closed it up again, hoping shed done some serious damage.
Dusting off her hands, she tucked her clutch purse under her arm and headed up the hill.
Three-inch heels were definitely not the best choice for the Erickson Ranch. Neither was a straight skirt and loose hair. By the time she closed in on Cole, she was disheveled and out of breath. Shed scratched her hand ducking through a barbed-wire fence, got a cactus stuck to the toe of her shoe and attracted a pair of horseflies that were now moving in for the kill.
Cole looked completely unfazed by the climb. He stood a hundred yards away, on the crest of the hill, with a coiled rope in one hand. He raised his thumb and index finger to his mouth and let out a shrill whistle that she was willing to bet would get the attention of every cab driver on Fifth Avenue.
The ground rumbled beneath her feet and she took an involuntary step backward. Then she forced herself to hold still and sucked in a bracing breath. If it was a stampede, it was a stampede.
The Thunderbolt had the power to launch her career to the stratosphere. And shed studied too long and too hard to quit now. Better to be trampled to death trying to get her hands on it than give up and become a tour guide.
A herd of some twenty horses appeared on the ridge, their manes and tails flowing in a wave of black, brown and silver. In the face of their onslaught, Cole stood his ground. He lifted his battered cowboy hat and waved it in the air. The herd slowed, parted around him, then shuffled to a stop.
Okay. Now that was sexy.
And she wasnt dead.
The day was looking up.
Cole captured a big gray horse and led it through a gate. Sydney quickly followed. She was intimidated by the big animal, but she was more frightened of the two dozen of his friends they were leaving behind.
Cole tied up the horse then ran his hands soothingly along its neck. Was there something about my no that was ambiguous? he asked Sydney.
She found a log to perch on and gingerly plucked at the little round cactus on her shoe. Her skirt would probably be ruined, but that couldnt be helped. She played dumb. You said no?
He turned to stare at her for a moment. Just in case you missed it the first time, no.
You havent heard me out.
Youre trying to steal my family heirloom. Whats to hear out? With a firm pat on the horses neck, he headed for a nearby shack.
She scrambled to her feet and followed. I wasnt 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 hadnt 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. Theres a little thing in there about loving and honoring and till death do us part. And theres generally a preacher standing in front of you, along with your family and friends when you make those promises.
Sydney hesitated. She hadnt actually thought through the details of the ceremony. Shed 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. Shed 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. Coles sister-in-law.
Sydney reached out to shake the womans 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 Coles determined expression and decided she had little to lose. Im here to marry Cole.
He sputtered an inarticulate sound.
He sputtered an inarticulate sound.
But Katie shrieked in delight and her horse startled. So you were holding out on us.
Shes only after the Thunderbolt, said Cole, planting the metal stand with disgust.
But Katies attention was all on Sydney. How long have you known him? Where did you meet? Her gaze strayed to Sydneys bare fingers. Did he propose yet?
I proposed to him.
Shes after the Thunderbolt, Cole repeated. Shes a con artist.
Im a museum curator. I want to display the Thunderbolt. But I really am willing to marry him.
Shes- Cole threw up his hands, turning to pace back to the horse. Forget it.
Katie called after him. Dont be so hasty, Cole. It sounds like a good offer. And youre 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.
Katies reaction to the proposition wasnt nearly as negative as Coles. 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 wasnt 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? Coles 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.
Im not altruistic.
Youd bring an important antiquity to the attention of the world.
Its a private possession.
It would only be a loan.
Why dont you give up?
While Sydney formulated a response, Katie spoke up. Why dont 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 Im not coming to dinner.
Of course you are, said Katie.
Nope.
Ill 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. Its not my fault you cant say no to her.
Can you say no to her?
Why would I want to say no to her?
Not ever?
Not ever.
Cole folded his arms over his chest. Dont you ever need to just put your foot down and lay out the logic?
Kyle laughed. Youre joking, right?
How can a man live with somebody orchestrating his every move?
Are we talking about Katie or Sydney?
Katies helping Sydney. And were talking about women in general.