The Cowboy Lassoes a Bride, Kate Pearce [online e book reader .TXT] 📗

her building just to make sure HW hadn’t decided on a nocturnal visit. He usually sent her a text if he was planning on turning up, but occasionally when he got stuck in town, he’d just appear, sweep her off her feet, and make wild, passionate love to her all night.

After she got inside her apartment and put all the lights on, she made herself some cocoa and sent a text to her best friend, Cam, in Sacramento.

Hey, are you around?

Yeah Just finishing my shift. What’s up?

Sam smiled as she texted back. Nothing much. I’m just getting married. Can you get time off in two weeks?

Her phone rang, and she winced as Cam screamed in her ear.

“Yay! Go you! That’s awesome!”

Sam held the phone away and shouted back. “Thanks! I’m terrified!”

“I bet you are,” Cam said. “But I really think this is a good thing, and I’m definitely going to come out there and support you through it.”

Sam let out a relieved breath as she eased off her cowboy boots, socks, and then her prosthetic left foot. “That would be so nice of you. And by the way, they are looking for a pediatrician for the new health center if you want a job.”

Cam laughed. “I’ll think about it. Can you put me up if I come to the wedding?”

Sam gulped and considered the chaotic state of her spare room.

“Sure!”

She’d get that sorted in the next week or so. HW loved showing off his muscles lifting heavy things.

“Then I look forward to it,” Cam said. “In fact, I can’t wait!”

Chapter Two

“Sam, stop arguing with me, and go and try it on,” Yvonne said patiently. “Trust me.”

They were currently sitting in what Sam might once have called her worst nightmare—an exclusive bridal boutique in San Francisco. Chase Morgan had let her and Yvonne hitch a ride on his private jet to the big city, and here they were—trying on bridal gowns. Well, she was trying them on, and Yvonne, who had the best taste ever, was advising her. Sam had looked online and in the more local stores, found nothing she liked, and was still not feeling hopeful.

Sam went into the fitting room with Janet, the lovely woman assigned to help her get fitted out, and reluctantly shed her clothes. While she was changing, Yvonne added a few more dresses to the rack.

“Put your arms up, dearie,” Janet advised her. “And I’ll slip this over your head.”

The fabric rustled and whished over Sam’s face, and settled around her like the lightest froth on coffee.

“Wow.” Sam breathed out hard. “I look . . . okay.”

“You look lovely, like a flower.” Janet smiled at her in the mirror as she buttoned up the back of the fitted bodice. “Come and show your friend.”

Sam gathered up the skirt and stomped back into the main shop where Yvonne was fussing around with tiaras and veils.

“Oh, Sam . . .” Yvonne gasped, “You look beautiful!” She dropped the tiara and rushed over to Sam, taking the delicate, many-layered skirt out of her hands, and displaying it properly with Janet’s help. “Come and see yourself in the big mirror.”

Sam studied herself before turning a slow circle. “It’s really pretty, but with my dodgy foot, I don’t want to trip up and embarrass myself. I’m thinking that maybe I should choose something ankle length?”

“What are you going to wear on your feet?” Janet asked.

“Cowboy boots. Fancy ones,” Sam said. “I’m getting married on a ranch.”

“She might need them.” Yvonne sighed. “Goodness knows what she could step in.”

“And no veil or tiara,” Sam said firmly. “I’m wearing a cowboy hat. I don’t want Nolly chewing my ear off.”

“Is Nolly the bridegroom?” Janet asked, uncertainly.

“No, he’s one of the horses up at the ranch, and he likes to get involved in all the weddings, and eats anything he can get in his mouth,” Sam replied, and paused. “Rather like my bridegroom, actually, but not exactly the same.”

Yvonne stifled a laugh. “Okay, try on the second one. It’s much shorter.”

Sam picked up her skirts, hung them over her arm rather like Doris Day tromping through the creek in the old western musical, and went back to the fitting room. HW wouldn’t recognize her without her jeans and cowboy boots on, so she’d better keep the boots.

She didn’t like the second or third dresses, and neither did Yvonne or Janet, so her hopes rested on dress number four, or some drastic alterations to the first one, which she secretly loved.

The last dress had a boat-shape neckline very similar to the first one, with the addition of embroidered flowers on the bodice and a simple handkerchief skirt that didn’t quite reach the floor. Sam took an experimental twirl as she exited the fitting room, and nothing caught under her heels.

“This is also beautiful,” Yvonne said. “It shows off your figure, and has that lovely green and yellow embroidery. What do you think?”

Sam smoothed her hands over the skirt. “I like it a lot.” She twisted herself in a knot and attempted to find the price tag. “How much is it compared to the other one?”

“Chase said not to worry about that,” Yvonne reminded her. “He’s worked out some deal with HW.”

“But I’m paying for my dress,” Sam said. “It’s very kind of Chase but I don’t expect the Morgans to pay for everything. It’s not fair.”

Janet stepped forward and checked the price tag. “This one is about five hundred dollars less than the first one you tried on.”

Sam gazed longingly at the pile of fluffy goodness, aka the first dress, and tried to be practical. “This will work much better with my boots and cowboy hat, and won’t trip me up.” She nodded. “I’ll go with this one.”

“Are you sure?” Yvonne asked. “They are both lovely, but—”

“It’s all good.” Sam smiled at her, and then at Janet. “You know I’m getting married in less than two weeks, right? Will that give you enough time to get