Page 3 of A Jilted Bride for the Cowboy

That left her not busy… but with a lot on her own mind.

Brides couldn’t call off a wedding with only three days’ notice. Not when they’d made irreversible decisions like quitting their jobs — Cadence was going to work in Paul’s dad’s offices after the honeymoon — or moved back home with their parents for the final few weeks. Her roommate had been married recently, and the apartment lease was hers. No problem since Cadence would be moving in with Paul shortly.

She’d burned too many bridges to enable a retreat. There was only one open direction, and that was forward.

Oh, God, please help me!

She didn’t dare jot her troubled thoughts into her journal. Not unless she destroyed the thing before Saturday afternoon. If Paul ever read it…

“Honey?” Mom tapped on her bedroom door.

“Yes?”

“There’s someone at the door to see you.”

Cadence frowned. At nearly ten on a Wednesday evening? “Who is it?”

“Graham Sullivan.” Mom clucked disapprovingly. “And he’s soaking wet. Doesn’t look or sound drunk, though.”

Graham? Cadence’s heart skipped a beat. Paul’s cousin. One of the army of groomsmen Paul had enlisted at Mom’s instigation, stretching Cadence’s own ability to come up with ten friends to stand up with her.

She remembered Graham as a withdrawn, kind of awkward guy. He’d seemed to have a thing for her once upon a time, but he’d never said anything. It wasn’t likely now, either, practically on the eve of her wedding.

“Cadence? He can’t possibly have a good reason for being here. I’ll send him away.”

“I’m coming. I’ll talk to him.” She tucked her journal in the top drawer and glanced down at herself. Her T-shirt and jogging shorts were decent enough. It was practically bedtime, after all. She opened the door. “Did he say what he wants?”

Mom scowled. “I asked, but he said he wouldn’t leave until he talked to you.”

The situation was getting stranger by the minute. “Okay.”

Mom wrung her hands together. “I don’t like this.”

“He’s harmless.”

“If you say so. But still.”

“I promise.” By now they’d reached the front hall. The glow from the outdoor light fixture shone through the sidelight and illuminated the man on the edge of the landing. He stood with his back to the door and his hands deep in his shorts pockets.

She turned back to her mother. “I’m sure this will only take a minute, but don’t worry. Graham’s trustworthy.”

Mom grimaced as she turned away. “Your father paused our movie, so I’ll get back to him. But be careful.”

Cadence opened the door, slipped out, and closed it behind her before he turned. “Graham? Mom said you needed to talk to me.”

He swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “I do.”

The words she was going to say to Paul on Saturday evening. If her cold feet didn’t get the best of her before then.

“Want to sit down on the patio?” She indicated an alcove a few feet away.

“Um, sure.” He gestured. “After you.”

He was more of a gentleman than Paul, for all they were cousins. It was their mothers who were sisters, right? She took a seat on the edge of a wicker armchair.

Graham settled into one across from her. “I don’t know how to tell you this.” His damp sandal poked at a crack in the pavers.

“Spit it out.” What could it be? Surely, he hadn’t chosen the week of her wedding to dump his undying love at her feet or something else equally corny.

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