Page 69 of A Surprise Wedding for the Cowboy

No, he’d come back. He was too much a slave to Walter Sullivan to make a run for it.

Although, the woman was an heiress in her own right, so maybe Tate didn’t need this job or his grandfather’s money.

Was it even possible he’d bail out on Stephanie and Jamie this easily?

She couldn’t believe it.

But that photo couldn’t have been faked.

* * *

Tate couldn’t wait to get home. The past week had clearly shown him where home was. Sweet River Ranch, with Stephanie and Jamie. The only decisions left to make were when to sell his penthouse and where to build a house on the ranch. If Grandfather didn’t want to give him his favorite spot, maybe they could build in town, and he’d commute. Stephanie might like that better. He’d find out.

They’d barely connected by phone the past couple of days. He’d been busy wrapping things up with Justin Casselman. Stephanie was worried about her mother’s surgery which would be taking place while Tate was in the air. It seemed like they kept missing each other, or having barely enough time for a quick exchange before one or the other of them was called away.

He missed her like he’d miss his own heart if it were carved out of his chest.

Tate took a deep breath and settled at the gate in O’Hare to await his flight.

There was one other thing, that ridiculous photo a reporter had snapped just as Dahlia had found him at the gala. He hadn’t had a chance to mention it to Stephanie. She’d never followed the news that he knew of, and the entertainment section of a newspaper from a city far from home would certainly not be on her radar, so he was certain she hadn’t seen the photo.

Tate cringed inwardly. She’d absolutely have mentioned it if she had, if her forthright accusation that day in the dining hall served as notice. She was far more likely to accuse than to stew.

Either way, he’d show it to her and explain what had happened. He probably didn’t even need to do that, because it was truly nothing but a random moment Dahlia had orchestrated and the reporters had been lucky enough to catch. He’d shed the woman within minutes, and he was pretty sure she understood that he was now married and off-limits.

At least, her father understood — Tate had dropped Stephanie’s name a hundred times in their business meetings after the gala — and that would help deter a repeat performance if an opportunity ever presented itself to Dahlia. He’d make sure it didn’t.

Then why did he feel so uneasy about coming clean with Stephanie? It wasn’t that he’d done anything wrong. He’d never dated Dahlia. Never wanted to.

But Stephanie was good at jumping to conclusions. Her other skill was seeing only what she wanted to see, if her longstanding interest in Eli Bryson was any indication. She’d admitted to Tate she knew, deep down, that Eli didn’t truly love her, but she’d been determined to marry him anyway, that he’d come to love her.

Then Eli fell in love with Harper and proposed, and Stephanie stepped back… right into Tate’s arms. Yeah, he was a bit of a rebound. He could see that now.

But, it was more than that. Tate had been surprised to realize how much he loved Stephanie. It had hit him out of the blue a couple of months ago, fast and hard, like a baseball to the head. But better, because when he’d realized what had happened, he’d been thrilled. From that moment on, he’d been all in. He still was.

Stephanie was it for him.

She loved him as much as he loved her. Her busyness this week was legit. She had Jamie in town at her parents’ home. Her mom was sick. Having surgery in just a couple of hours.

Tate wished he could be there for Stephanie. Wasn’t that what husbands did? They were right beside their wives during hard times, providing a shoulder to cry on and a strength to draw from. Stephanie would do the same for him. She absolutely would.

He’d go straight to the hospital upon arrival in Missoula and find her in the waiting room. He’d take her in his arms and hold her while they waited for news. He’d show her the photo and explain.

Later, when her mom was out of surgery, they’d pick Jamie up from… Sage’s, wasn’t it?… and go home to the ranch.

And later, he’d show his wife just how much he’d missed her.

It was all he could do. Except keep praying.

Chapter Twenty-Three

“Want a coffee, Dad?” Stephanie couldn’t sit still any longer, and they’d only wheeled Mom back thirty minutes ago. The surgeon had warned them not to expect any news for several hours. Stephanie was going to go stark raving mad while they waited.

“No, thank you.” Dad rummaged through a pile of magazines and newspapers on an end table. Selecting a copy of a Chicago paper, he settled into a chair.

It wouldn’t be Wednesday’s edition, would it? There’d been at least one higher in the pile. She bit her lip, wishing she’d paid attention to the headlines the other morning, but she’d zeroed straight in on the entertainment section. Dad wouldn’t do that. He’d be looking for the business segment, and that came earlier.

Stephanie stared at the bulletin board with its assortment of health posters and pamphlets and kept a surreptitious eye on her father. The enormous paper nearly obscured his face.

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