LITMIR.BIZ

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expect so,” Caleb mused, then glanced over at Nathan’s wife who was smiling and waving one hand. “I think Amanda wants you.”

      Straightening up, Nathan gave a heartfelt sigh. “That’s it, then. I’ll see you after. At the reception?”

      “I don’t think so. Soon as I’m clear, I’m headed back to the ranch.”

      Another sigh. “Lucky bastard.”

      Caleb grinned and watched his friend head toward the Texas Cattleman’s Club building. The place was a one-story, rambling sort, made of dark wood and stone, boasting a tall slate roof. It was a part of Royal and had been for generations. Celebrations of all kinds had been held there and today, it was a wedding. One he’d have to attend in just a few minutes.

      * * *

      Shelby Arthur stared at her own reflection and hardly recognized herself. She supposed all brides felt like that on their wedding day, but for her, the effect was terrifying.

      Her long, dark auburn curls were pulled back from her face to hang down to the center of her back. Her veil poofed out around her head and her green eyes narrowed at the gown she hated. A ridiculous number of yards of white tulle made Shelby look like a giant marshmallow caught in netting. The dress was her about-to-be-mother-in-law’s doing. She’d insisted that the Goodmans had a reputation to maintain in Royal and the simple off-the-shoulder gown Shelby had chosen wouldn’t do the trick.

      So instead, she was looking at a stranger wearing an old-fashioned gown with long, lacy sleeves, a cinched waist and full skirt, and a neckline that was so high she felt as if she were choking.

      “Thank God for air-conditioning,” she muttered, otherwise in the sweltering Texas heat, she’d be little more than a tulle-covered puddle on the floor. She half turned to get a look at the back of the dress and finally sighed. She looked like one of those crocheted dolls her grandmother used to make to cover up spare toilet paper rolls.

      Shelby was about to get married in a dress she hated, a veil she didn’t want, to a man she wasn’t sure she liked, much less loved. How did she get to this point?

      “Oh, God. What am I doing?” The whisper was strained but heartfelt.

      She’d left her home in Chicago to marry Jared Goodman. But now that he was home in Texas, under his awful father’s thumb, Jared was someone she didn’t even know. Her whirlwind romance had morphed into a nightmare and now she was trapped.

      She took a breath, blew it out and asked her reflection, “What are you doing?”

      “Good question.”

      Shelby jumped, startled by the sudden appearance of Jared’s mother. The woman was there, behind her in the mirror, bustling into the room. Margaret Goodman was tall and painfully thin. Her face was all sharp angles and her blue eyes were small and judgmental. Her graying blond hair was scraped back from her face into a bun that incongruously sported a circlet of yellow rosebuds. The beige suit she wore was elegant if boring and was so close to the color of her hair and skin the woman simply disappeared into her clothes.

      If only, Shelby thought.

      “Your veil should be down over your face,” Margaret chastised, hurrying over to do just that.

      As the veil fell across her vision, Shelby had a momentary panic attack and felt as though she couldn’t breathe through that all-encompassing tulle curtain, so she whipped it back again. Taking a deep breath, she said, “I’m sorry, I can’t—”

      “You will.” Margaret stepped back, took a look, then moved to tug at the skirt of the wedding gown. “We’re going for a very traditional, chaste look here. It’s unseemly that this wedding is happening so quickly. The town will be gossiping for months, watching for a swollen belly.”

      Shelby sucked in a gulp of air. “I’ve told you already, I’m not pregnant.”

      “We’ll soon see, won’t we?” One blond eyebrow lifted over pale blue eyes. “The Goodman family has a reputation in this town and I expect you to do nothing to besmirch it.”

      “Besmirch?” Who even talked like that, Shelby thought wildly. It was as if she’d dropped into a completely different universe. Suddenly, she missed Chicago—her friends, her life, so much she ached with it.

      Moving to Texas with a handsome, well-connected cowboy who had swept her off her feet had seemed like an adventure at the time. Now she was caught up in a web that seemed inescapable. Her fiancé was a stranger, his mother a blatant enemy and his brother had a way of looking at Shelby that had her wishing she’d paid more attention in self-defense class.

      Jared’s father, Simon, was no better, making innuendoes that he probably thought were clever but gave Shelby the outright creeps. The only bright spot in the Goodman family was Jared’s sister, Brooke, and she couldn’t help Shelby with what was about to happen.

      Somehow, she had completely lost control of her own life and now she stood there in a mountain of tulle trying to find enough scraps of who she was to cling to.

      “Once the ceremony is finished, we’ll all go straightaway to the reception,” Margaret was saying.

       Oh, God.

      “You and Jared will, of course, be in the receiving line until every guest has been welcomed personally. The photographer can then indulge in the necessary photos for precisely fifteen minutes, after which you and Jared will reenter the reception for the ceremonial first toast.” Margaret paused long enough to glance into the mirror herself and smooth hair that wouldn’t dare fall out of place. “Mr. Goodman is an important man and as his family we will do all we can to support him. Is that understood?” Her gaze, hard and cold, shot to Shelby’s. “When you’ve returned from your honeymoon...”

      Her stomach sank even further. She wouldn’t have been surprised to see it simply drop out of her body and fall splat onto the floor. Her day was scheduled. Her honeymoon was scheduled and she had no doubt at all that her life would be carefully laid out for her, complete with bullet points.

      How had it all come to this?

      For their honeymoon, Shelby had wanted to see Paris. Instead, Jared’s mother had insisted they go to Philadelphia so Shelby could be introduced to the eastern branch of the Goodman family. And much to her dismay, Jared was simply doing as he was told with no regard at all for Shelby. He’d changed so much since coming back to Texas that she hardly recognized the man anymore.

      Margaret was still talking. Fixing a steely gaze on the mirror, she met Shelby’s eyes. “When you return to Texas, you will of course give up your ridiculous business and be the kind of wife to Jared that will enable him to further his own law career.”

      “Oh, I don’t think—”

      “You’ll be a Goodman,” Margaret snapped, brooking no argument.

      Shelby swallowed hard. When they’d met in Chicago, Jared had talked about his ranch in Texas. He’d let her believe that he was a cowboy who happened to also have a law degree. And yes, she could admit that the fantasy of being with a cowboy had really appealed to her. But mostly, he’d talked about their having a family and that had sealed the deal for Shelby.

      She’d told herself then that she could move her professional organizer business anywhere. But from the moment Jared had introduced her to his family, Margaret had made it clear that her “little business” was hardly appropriate.

      Shelby met her own eyes in the mirror and read the desperation there. Maybe all of this would be easier to take if she was madly in love with Jared. But the truth was, she’d fooled herself from the beginning. This wasn’t love. It couldn’t be. The romance, the excitement, had all worn off, like the luster of sterling silver as soon as it was tarnished. Rather than standing up for himself, Jared was completely cowed by his family and that really didn’t bode well for Shelby’s future.

      Margaret checked the slim gold watch

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