Page 9 of A Jilted Bride for the Cowboy

“I’m sorry, Mom. I’ll pay you back.”

More high-pitched screeching.

“No, I know I can’t reimburse you for the embarrassment. Canceling wasn’t my idea. Did I forget to tell you it was Paul who asked for the ring back?”

Graham doubted she hadn’t mentioned it in the note she said she’d left, but her words still soured in his stomach. She would have married Paul in two days if last night hadn’t happened.

He needed to keep that in mind. He might have admired her from afar for years, but she wasn’t free. Not really.

Maybe in a few months.

Stop it, Graham. She’ll never see anything in a geek like you. She didn’t before, and she won’t now.

Would it kill him to dream?

It might.

“No, Mom. I won’t change my mind. I’m not running after Paul Bradley and begging him to marry me after all. How desperate and wrong would that be?”

Very desperate. Very wrong.

“Think how your father feels.”

Ah, finally Mrs. Foster had calmed enough that her voice came through as something definable rather than a high-pitched wa-wa-wa from a Charlie Brown cartoon.

“Tell Dad I’m sorry it worked out like this, but I have to go now. We’re approaching a gas station, and I need the facilities.” Cadence gave Graham a pleading look.

They’d switched drivers at the side of the road hours ago. No doubt she needed a restroom. So did he. Also, breakfast would not go amiss.

“Bye, Mom. Yes, I’ll keep in touch. I’m sorry. Again.” She tapped to end the call and dropped her phone onto her lap. “Oh, man. Have you ever disappointed your parents as much as I just did?”

Graham couldn’t help the chuckle. “By being a guy who loves numbers and books instead of sports and clubs? I’ve been disappointing them since I was born.”

Cadence angled her head and studied him. “You don’t think they approve of you?”

“Nope. Not really.” He signaled for the off-ramp into Kasson. “Let’s fuel up and get breakfast.”

“I’ll pay.” She fumbled for the purse at her feet.

“I’ve got it.”

“But—”

Graham set his hand over hers. His heart jolted, and he pulled away quickly. “I was going to drive to Montana, anyway.”

“You weren’t expecting a stowaway.”

“True, but I’ve got it. Okay?”

Her lips tightened. “Fine. This time.”

It was a small victory. He couldn’t truly take care of her the way he dreamed of, but he could do it in small ways. Ways like offering her a job — he ought to call Grandfather about that, or maybe Tate — and a place to live and transportation. Fine. He was doing a lot. All he could. He’d do the same for anyone caught in a predicament like hers.

Maybe not. Maybe his generosity was all because of Cadence Foster.

Graham took in the small town. “There’s a restaurant. Let’s get breakfast.”

She turned luminescent eyes toward him. “After that, I guess I’d better start calling my bridesmaids. I can’t believe what a tangled mess this all is.”

---