Page 60 of Wyoming True

“She was,” he replied. He opened the safe and pulled out an elegant jewelry box, wood with inlaid jade. “This was her jewelry box,” he added as he placed it on the coffee table and sat down beside Ida. He opened the lid.

She caught her breath at what was inside. “These are beautiful,” she said, touching the spiderweb necklace of rubies with a tender hand, the filigree earrings that matched it, the bracelet and, finally, the little ring.

“Here.” He picked up the ring and let her look at it, pulling out the bridal set they’d chosen and opening that box for comparison.

The way they matched, the engagement and wedding band, was uncanny.

“We couldn’t have done better if we’d taken the ring with us,” he mused, smiling as he watched Ida enthuse over the ruby solitaire.

“I love things with a history,” she said softly. “Things that have stories attached. A ring you buy new isn’t the same.” She looked up into narrow silver eyes and grimaced. “That came out wrong. What I mean is, it isn’t the same until it has a history of its own, after belonging to someone.” She held out her right hand, palm down, indicating a yellow-gold ring with a cat’s-eye setting. “That belonged to my great-grandmother,” she said. “It was the only expensive piece of jewelry she ever owned, and my great-grandfather sold a milk cow and calf to buy it for her.”

He smiled, understanding. “You appreciate such things a lot more if you know how it feels not to have anything.”

“Exactly,” she agreed. She turned the little ring over and over in her hands. “I love this,” she said. “I’ll take wonderful care of it.”

“I know you will,” he said.

She handed it to him. “Will you...?” She held out her left hand.

He pursed his lips. “Even if it’s to be a marriage of friends, shouldn’t we do the thing right?” he asked.

While she was wondering what he meant, he went down on one knee in front of her, and he wasn’t smiling.

“Ida Merridan, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?” he asked in a soft, deep, tender tone.

Tears stung her eyes. “Oh, yes,” she replied, and her voice wobbled.

He took her hand in both of his and slid the ring into place. It was an exact fit. He lifted it to his mouth and brushed it gently with his lips.

She looked down on his dark hair and knew quite suddenly that she loved him. It was a very bad thing to happen when they’d just promised to have a platonic marriage...

CHAPTER TEN

JAKECHUCKLEDAShe got to his feet, before Ida could embarrass herself by saying something sentimental.

“We’ll put an announcement in the papers,” he said as he dropped back down beside her. “Do you want a church wedding?” he asked.

She hesitated. She’d been married twice and she had an ex-husband still living. She bit her lower lip and looked hunted.

He scowled. “What is it?”

She looked at him uneasily. “Do you know a minister who’ll agree to marry a divorced woman with my reputation?” She fought tears. “I’ve made so many stupid mistakes in my life. That thing about being a wild woman with men was the worst, the absolute worst!”

He caught her hand and held it in his. “Listen to me,” he said gently. “Nobody’s perfect. Well, except me,” he drawled, and his silver eyes sparkled.

“And not a bit conceited,” she agreed, rising to the bait.

He chuckled. “I know an unorthodox minister who’ll marry us,” he said. “His church isn’t exactly conventional, but it’s a church.” He cocked his head. “Do you want to wear white satin?” he teased.

“I was married in a suit the first time and a purple silk dress the second time.” She sighed. “I’m too old to wear white satin.” She met his eyes. “How about a nice white wool suit with a big fancy hat with a veil?” she asked, and she smiled.

“I’m intrigued. And it sounds very nice.”

“Can you fly me to Manhattan before we marry? I’d like to shop for it up there at one of the couture houses,” she added.

“I have an account...”

She held up a hand. “Thank you, but I could endow a small country with what I’ve got in the bank. I’ll pay for my own wedding gown.” Her blue eyes twinkled. “You can provide the flowers, and I’ll expect bushels of them, I’m warning you. I love flowers.”

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