LITMIR.BIZ

       Two

      A real cowboy.

      Shelby tipped her head back to look up at him and caught the flash of surprise in his gaze as he reached out to steady her. Ridiculously enough, considering the situation—running away from her own wedding—she felt a hot blast of something...amazing.

      The cowboy had shaggy light brown hair, icy-blue eyes, a strong jaw and a gray cowboy hat tipped down low on his forehead. He wore a black suit, crisp white shirt with a dove-gray tie and oh, sweet mama Lou, shining black cowboy boots. His hands were strong and warm on her upper arms and a slow smile curved his mouth as he took in what she was wearing.

      And the soft drawl in his deep voice really worked for her. He was everything Jared wasn’t. Although, even as she thought it, Shelby reminded herself that her judgment had been so crappy about Jared that she could be just as wrong about Mr. Tall, Dark and Yummy.

      “Hey now,” he said, that deep voice rolling along her spine again. “Are you all right?”

      “Absolutely not,” she said firmly. The humor in his eyes was gone, replaced by concern and she responded to it. “I have to get out of here. Now. Can you help me?”

      His eyes narrowed on her and his delectable mouth moved into a grim slash. “You’re running out on your wedding?”

      Disapproval practically radiated from him and Shelby’s spine went stiff as a board in reaction. “Just as fast as I can,” she said. “Can you help me?”

      Before he could say yes or no, another voice erupted behind her.

      “Shelby! What the devil do you think you’re doing?”

      Spinning around until the cowboy was at her back, Shelby watched as Margaret Goodman stalked toward her, fire in her eyes. “Your guests are waiting.”

      “They’re not my guests,” Shelby said. Heck, the only people she knew in Royal was the family she was supposed to marry into and frankly, if they were the best this town had to offer, she was ready to run back to Chicago.

      “Of course they are.” Margaret waved her hand impatiently, dismissing Shelby’s argument. “Don’t be foolish.”

      Shelby moved back until she felt the cowboy’s tall, strong body press up against hers. Cowardly? Maybe, but she’d live with it. Right now, this tall, exceptionally well-built man was the safest spot she could find.

      Margaret’s gaze snapped to the cowboy. “Caleb, bring her along inside right this minute.”

      Caleb. His name was Caleb. For a second, Shelby worried that he might do just that. After all, he didn’t know her and the Goodman family, as they kept telling her, were a big deal here in Royal. Maybe he wasn’t the safe harbor she’d thought he was.

      Then the cowboy stepped out from behind her and moved to partially block Shelby from the woman glaring at her. While Shelby watched, he tipped his hat and said, “I don’t take orders from you, Mrs. Goodman.”

      Margaret inhaled through her nose and if she could have set the cowboy on fire, she clearly would have. “Fine. Please bring her along inside. The wedding is about to start.”

      “Well now,” Caleb said slowly, that deep drawl caressing every word, “I don’t believe the lady wants to go back inside.”

      “No,” Shelby said, exhaling in a rush. “I do not.”

      “There you go. She sounds pretty sure,” Caleb said, shrugging as if he couldn’t have cared less which way this confrontation turned out.

      “Well, I’m sure, too.” Margaret took a menacing step forward. “This woman is engaged to my son, God help me.”

      Insulted, Shelby frowned, but the older woman kept going.

      “We have a club full of people waiting for the ceremony to begin and the Goodman family has a reputation to uphold in Royal. I refuse to allow some city tramp to ruin it.”

      “Tramp?” Okay, now she was more sure than ever that running had been the right thing to do. The very idea of having to deal with this woman as a relative for the rest of her life gave her cold chills.

      Shelby took a step toward the woman with the plan to tell Margaret exactly what she thought of her. But the cowboy alongside her grabbed her arm to hold her in place.

      “That’s enough, Margaret,” he said quietly.

      “It’s not nearly enough.” Margaret fired a hard look at the cowboy before shifting her gaze back to Shelby. “You stay out of this, Caleb Mackenzie. This has nothing to do with you.”

      Though the urge to stand here and have it out with this appalling woman was so strong Shelby was almost quivering, she knew it would be a waste of time. And, since the most important thing was to escape before any more Goodmans showed up, she turned her head to stare up at the man beside her.

      “Can you get me out of here?” Shelby asked, staring up into those cool, blue eyes.

      “What?” Ignoring Margaret, the man looked at her as if he hadn’t heard her right.

      “Take me somewhere,” she blurted, and didn’t even think about the fact that she didn’t know this man. Right now it was enough that Margaret clearly couldn’t stand him. The enemy of my enemy, and all that.

      “You want me to help you run out on the man waiting for you at the altar?”

      “Well, when you put it like that, it sounds terrible,” Shelby admitted, shifting uneasily from foot to foot.

      “What other way is there to put it?”

      “Okay fine. I’m a terrible human being,” she whispered frantically as Margaret heaped curses on her head. “And I’ll apologize to Jared later. But right now...”

      Caleb stared down at her as if trying to see inside her. And Shelby was grateful that he couldn’t. Because right now, her insides were tangled up into so many knots she’d probably look like a crazy person. Heck, she felt like a crazy person. One that had just made a break from the asylum and was now looking for a ride back to sanity.

      Hitching the yards of tulle higher in her arms, Shelby murmured, “Margaret said your name’s Caleb, right?”

      “That’s right.”

      God, his voice

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