Page 38 of A Nice Day for a Cowboy Wedding

Which earned a watery chuckle from Deb.

“If he’s making you feel like there’s something wrong with you, hardness or loving your children, well, he isn’t the man you think he is,” Cora said. Much as she hated to butt in, she knew that all for a fact.

Deb looked at Cora then. “He’s not a bad man.”

Cora really hoped Shane talking to her about his Ben doubts weren’t transparent, because this wasn’t only about that. It was about Cora’s own experiences. She knew a thing or two about bad men. “Then he will prove that by apologizing and coming to his senses. Sometimes . . . Sometimes another person can make you feel like you’re wrong when you’re not. They can . . .” Cora looked from Deb’s to Lou’s interested face and felt her cheeks warm, but she pressed on. “They can seem loving when they’re not.”

Deb reached out and took Cora’s hand and squeezed. “Thank you for that. That’s an excellent reminder.”

“We all need it sometimes.” But inwardly, Cora felt something like dread twisting in her chest. Shane was so certain Ben was bad, a liar or maybe worse. If Ben was making Deb—this strong, determined, resilient woman—doubt her actions, maybe Shane really was right.

Which meant Cora was going to have to help Shane spy. She’d agreed this morning thinking they wouldn’t find anything,hopingthey wouldn’t. Now . . .

“Oh, silly cold feet. Ben’s a good man. If I hadn’t married Owen because we had one little argument, well, I’d have five less kids. That’s for sure. Well, four anyway.” Deb smiled and pointed to the pile of white and green flowers. “You’re right, Lou. This one will look the best. Now, which flowers will you have in September?”

Cora paid attention, making notes of flowers and prices and dates, but her stomach churned. She couldn’t help but wonder if she was planning a wedding she was going to be involved in stopping.

* * *

“You got good instincts, kid,” Shane said as Micah managed to get off Stan in a smooth move.

“Yeah?”

“That’s only your third dismount, and you were smooth,” Molly said with a kind smile. “Still need some work on the getting up, and the rein holds, but you’re making great progress in a short period of time. We get a few lessons in, you’ll be a pro in no time.”

Micah grinned, the apples of his cheeks hinting a little red. “Cool,” he said, clearly failing at nonchalance. The kid was hooked, and a hard worker all in all. As long as there was the promise of more horse riding in the future, he did what they asked of him, and once he’d figured out that hurrying through a job didn’t get him to the ride any sooner, he’d started to do a more thorough job.

“Why don’t you take Stan here into the stables and rub him down?”

Micah’s eyes widened. “By myself?”

“If you think you can handle it.”

Micah nodded, as if doing a bobblehead impersonation. “Yeah, yeah I can handle it. I’ll do a good job.” He looked up at the big horse adoringly, then flicked a suspicious glance back at Molly and Shane. He ducked his head, and Shane suspected he was trying to hide his excitement from them.

Micah made a clicking noise, clearly mimicking what he had heard Shane and Molly do, and then gently pulled on the reins. Stan, the horse Molly used for most of her lessons and therefore used to inexperienced riders, easily obeyed and walked with Micah’s guidance into the stables.

“He’s so sweet,” Molly said.

“Good kid,” Shane agreed. “Mom knew what she was doing when she suggested this.”

“She usually does. Speaking of . . .”

Shane braced himself for a lecture from his younger sister.

“I was thinking that maybe instead of pushing Mom about Ben, we take an alternative tact. Let her marry Ben, if that’s what she wants, but that doesn’t mean we couldn’t suggest some . . . legal protection.”

“Areyougoing to suggest that to Mom?” he asked incredulously.

“Hell no, that’s your job.” Molly’s grin flashed but faded quickly. “She’s not going to listen to us about the whole thing, but maybe we can appeal to her practicality.”

Shane didn’t know why the idea didn’t appeal to him. It was smart. It would save Mom from the kind of embarrassment he’d suffered, but . . . She’d still be hurt. He couldn’t abide the thought.

“We’ll think about it,” Shane said.

“We? You speak for all of us now?” She shook her head. “Of course you do.” Her tone wasn’t so much bitter as it was sad. “This isn’t working. The way we are.”

“What does that mean?”

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