A Weaver Wedding Read online

  “Dangerous words.” He stopped the truck so close to the rear door of the shop that there was barely room for her to get out. Then he turned off the engine and his voice seemed to drop an octave in the silence left behind. “Or don’t you remember?”

  His insistence on finding the birthday cake for her that unforgettable night.

  Her insistence that they’d never find one.

  She shimmied out of the truck and fumbled with her door keys before his warm hand plucked the ring out of her fingers and he unlocked the door himself.

  She scooted inside but she couldn’t get away from the sound of his soft laughter following her, anymore than she could get away from the electricity flooding through her.

  Electricity that hadn’t cooled one watt since she’d left the Suds-n-Grill with him.

  If anything, that particular current was flowing hotter, and brighter, than ever.

  Chapter Seven

  “We were beginning to wonder if you’d make it or not.” Axel’s father was the first to notice them later that afternoon when Tara nervously followed a mostly silent Axel into the large main house at the Double-C ranch.

  The “big house,” Axel had called it as they drove through the iron gate off the highway and approached the rambling stone structure.

  Big it most certainly was.

  And inside, it was filled with oversized furniture, oversized men and their beautiful families. Those who hadn’t been at the church quickly descended on Axel, but this time Tara was able to sidle out of the way, only to come face-to-face with Axel’s pixie-sized sister.

  “It’s a little daunting seeing so many of us in one room,” Leandra said with a grin. This time she didn’t have her son, Lucas, on her hip the way she had at the festival, but Tara could see the black-haired imp who was the spitting image of his father, climbing up into an old-fashioned wooden rocker.

  Would her baby favor Axel?

  “There are a lot of you,” Tara agreed, trying to push away her thought and failing miserably. Was it any wonder, when she was surrounded by prime examples of the family’s excellent genetics everywhere she looked?

  Thankfully, Leandra didn’t seem to notice her preoccupation. “I’ve learned to let the stampede pass before having my crack at my baby brother.” Her eyes were almost the same color as Axel’s and they snapped with good humor. “He used to give me grief about the time I spent away from Weaver. Turnabout’s going to be fair play.” She pushed up the sleeves of her closely fitted, ribbed turtleneck. “Is it warm in here or is it me?”

  “It’s you.” Evan corralled his wife with one long arm round her waist. “You’re always hot when you’re—”

  Leandra pinched his arm. “Evan.”

  His vivid eyes—the same shade that he’d passed on to little Lucas—crinkled. “What?”

  She made a face. “Not now.”

  He shrugged, and slanted his amused gaze toward Tara. Of all the people there, she probably knew Evan Taggart the best, because he, too, was a member of the local chamber of commerce. Not only was he the local veterinarian and Axel’s horse-breeding partner, but he and Leandra were the founders of Fresh Horizons, a therapeutic program that brought in young kids from all over the country.

  “Did you hear what the final tally was for the blowout yesterday?” he asked Tara.

  When he told her, Tara’s lips rounded. “Really?”

  “Yes, really.” Courtney Clay stopped next to them. Her clear, amber-colored eyes were full of laughter. “Thanks to my kissing booth, of course. It’s a wonder my lips aren’t sprained.”

  “Too bad you couldn’t manage to squeeze a date out of any of those guys the way you squeezed them out of their money,” Erik Clay drawled. He was Tristan and Hope Clay’s eldest, and while the family resemblance was strong in him, too, he had his mother’s violet eyes. “At the rate you’re going, you’ll shrivel up and die some old spinster.”

  Courtney lifted her eyebrow. “And when was the last time you had a date?” Her voice was dulcet.

  Everyone laughed. Even Axel, whose silence on the drive out to the ranch seemed to have passed. He swung his sister right off her feet with one arm, while shaking Evan’s hand with the other.

  Leandra’s laughter was so infectious that Tara couldn’t help but smile. There’d never been a collection of family like this in the McCray household and it was impossible to steel herself against the allure.

  There was just so much…love.

  Axel finally settled his sister on her feet. “Why weren’t you at church this morning?”

  Her eyebrows rose. “Good thing I wasn’t. Town’s already talking about how crowded it was what with you and Tara practically in each other’s laps in the back pew.”

  Tara’s face went hot.

  Axel didn’t seem to notice, though, as he eyed Leandra with a goading look. “You gaining weight?”

  “Trust a brother to point that out,” Leandra complained with a wry grimace.

  Evidently satisfied that he’d gotten the upper hand again, Axel grinned. “So where’s Hannah? Don’t see her hiding anywhere around.”

  Hannah, Tara knew, was Leandra and Evan’s adopted daughter and was mildly autistic, though Tara had never seen any particular signs of it whenever she’d come into the shop with her mother. Probably because Hannah had been the inspiration for the program her parents had established. She was practically the poster child for its success.

  “Evan’s parents have her for the day.” Leandra smiled. “Wait until you see her, Ax. She’s come so far. You’ll hardly recognize her.”

  “I’m looking forward to it.” Then Axel turned to Courtney. Tara decided it had to be her imagination the way his smile seemed suddenly strained. “Hey, peanut. So I guess it sounds like they should name the new wing at the school after you for all the kissing you’ve done, huh?”

  She laughed and threw her arms around his shoulders. “God, it’s good to have you home.” When she pulled back, her eyes looked misty. “It’s almost like—” She broke off. Shook her head. “Well. It’s just good that you’re back where you belong. Selfishly, I hope it lasts for a while this time.

  “And you,” she said as she turned her head back toward Erik, “need to take a lesson from Ax.” Her voice was bright again. “He obviously knows how to get himself a date.”

  It was as if the entire living room fell silent and feeling suddenly like the center of attention, Tara’s face went hot. She opened her mouth to protest, but her throat closed up tight. Axel slid his arm over her shoulder and it felt just as proprietary as it had looked when Evan put his arms around his wife.

  “Damn straight he should know.” A gravelly voice cut across the chatter. “Takes after his grandpa, he does.”

  Tara had only met Squire Clay on a few occasions and could only hazard a guess at his age as Axel’s tall, whitehaired grandfather stomped through the room. He walked with a cane—a gnarled piece of natural wood—though as far as Tara could tell, he hardly seemed to lean on it.

  He stopped in front of Axel, giving his grandson a thorough once-over with his steely blue eyes. “Leastways he’s getting a start on the right woman a darn sight earlier than some others I could mention.” He swiveled his head around, seeming to give a pointed glare to Jefferson and his other sons, Matthew and Daniel and Tristan. The only one of his sons who wasn’t present was Courtney’s father—Sawyer, though he had been at the church.

  But when Squire looked back at Tara, he gave her a quick, mischievous wink. “If I didn’t have a saint of a woman of my own who’d skin my hide, I’d steal you away.”

  “Go ahead and try.” Squire’s wife, Gloria, came up beside them, her voice humorously dry. “Then you can be Tara’s challenge and I can take a well-deserved rest.”

  Squire gave her a cantankerous look. “I just called you a ‘ saint of a woman,’ woman. And now you call me a challenge?”

  His wife looked unfazed as she held up her cheek for her grandson’s kiss. The smiling welcome s
he sent Tara extended from her lips to her blue eyes. “Watch out for these men,” she cautioned. “Not a one of my husband’s descendents can be trusted when they set their eyes on a pretty girl.”

  Tara’s face flushed all over again. This was exactly what she’d feared. What she’d wanted to avoid.

  “Maybe it’s Tara who can’t be trusted,” Axel returned.

  “Don’t go picking on Tara, now.” Emily stepped into their midst. “She’s perfectly lovely.” She tucked her hand around Tara’s arm. “Now, come with me. You’ll be safe from all of them in the kitchen.”

  Panic streaked through her and Tara sent Axel a desperate glance, but he was already turning toward his uncles, and she couldn’t very well dig her heels into the wood-planked floor and refuse to go with Axel’s mother.

  Not even if she felt guilt clawing at her.

  In the scales of justice, whose lie weighed more?

  Axel’s intention to let his family think they were involved during the course of this unnecessary business?

  Or her failure to reveal that their weekend together in Braden had yielded completely unexpected results?

  She had a mental image of the utterly lopsided scale crashing down squarely on her head.

  “Look who Axel brought along,” Emily said as they entered the spacious kitchen dominated by an enormous oak table.

  “What a treat!” Jaimie Clay set a huge, steaming pot on the counter next to the sink and swiped a wave of barely graying auburn hair away from her cheek. “I was meaning to get by your booth at the festival and see if you had any new necklaces, but you’d already left before we got there.”

  “I do have some new ones,” Tara admitted. “If you come by the shop this week, I’m still honoring the sale prices from the festival.”

  “Honey, as far as I’m concerned, you’re not charging enough for your work.” Jaimie’s voice was dry. “But I’m not above a bargain, so I’ll definitely drive into town this week. I’ll drag Mags along. She’s over visiting Angeline and Brody.” Her green eyes twinkled. “Actually, I think Early might be the larger appeal. He’s Maggie’s two-year old grandson,” she provided for Tara’s benefit.

  Emily laughed, and pulled out one of the chairs at the table. “Can’t blame Maggie there. I love watching Lucas, too.” She shook her head. “But, oh, for the days when I had enough energy to keep up with a toddler!”

  Leandra came into the kitchen, with the little boy in question in her arms. “How much longer before we eat? This guy’s getting hungry.”

  “Here.” Jaimie handed the tot a biscuit that she pulled from a large napkin-covered basket.

  Lucas latched onto it greedily and shoved half of it into his mouth. Leandra pulled out a chair next to her mother and sank down on it, blowing out a breath.

  Emily reached over and took the toddler from her lap. “You’re looking flushed.”

  Leandra shrugged. “Should’ve worn something cooler than a turtleneck.”

  “It’s Valentine’s Day,” Jaimie reminded her drily. “There is more than a foot of snow on the ground. How can you possibly be too warm?”

  Leandra’s lips parted. But no words emerged. Her cheeks turned even pinker as her gaze met Tara’s—more in avoidance of her mother’s and aunt’s, than anything, Tara suspected.

  Emily suddenly sat up straighter, earning a protesting squawk from her grandson in her lap. “You’re pregnant!”

  Leandra groaned. “I knew we weren’t going to be able to keep it quiet for long.”

  “It’s true then!” Emily quickly slid Lucas into the high chair that was at the table, and grabbed her daughter’s face in her hands. “As if you could keep something like that from me for long. That’s my grandbaby you’re carrying! Do you think I wouldn’t know it just by looking at you?”

  Tara abruptly moved over to the pot that Jaimie had pretty much abandoned in favor of hugging Leandra. It was filled to the brim with steaming water and boiled potatoes and since there was already a colander in the sink, Tara poured the potatoes into it.

  “Oh, honey. I’ll get that,” Jaimie said quickly.

  “I don’t mind.” Tara would much rather be busy than not, particularly when Axel’s mother was rhapsodic over the news about another grandchild.

  If she learned about Tara’s, though, she might not feel so enthusiastic. Tara and Axel weren’t married, after all. Not even close. There was no love. No devotion.

  Just one intensely memorable weekend.

  “What’s all the commotion?” Gloria appeared, with Hope, Courtney and Sarah Scalise on her heels and soon, the kitchen was crammed with even more bodies as Leandra’s good news spread.

  Sticking well to the background, Tara began mashing the potatoes with the potato masher that was sitting at the ready. But she was painfully aware of Axel’s delighted hoot when he joined the throng.

  And then Jaimie’s husband, Matthew, lifted his head. “What’s burning?”

  Jaimie rushed across the kitchen, pulling on her oven mitts before drawing a giant casserole pan out of the oven. Suddenly, it was like another tidal wave hit as a dozen hands began assisting to get the meal on the oversized table in the dining room. Axel and Erik were sent back to the kitchen to bring in extra chairs from the table there. High chairs were dragged around and rearranged between various parents and grandparents.

  And then, in what seemed like a miracle to Tara, everyone was seated. In the silence that followed, Squire offered a simple blessing that made Tara’s throat tight.

  But as soon as he passed Amen!, it was as if all hell broke loose again, as dishes were passed, chatter grew louder and bursts of laughter rained down over them all.

  Tara couldn’t help it. She wanted to sit there and stare and drink it all in.

  It wasn’t hell, at all.

  It was heaven.

  “You all right?” Axel’s deep voice was soft beside her. Just for her ears.

  She blinked, quickly focusing on her plate that through no effort of her own had been filled to the rim. “I’m fine.” But her voice was husky and she shored it up with a quick smile. “I’ll never be able to eat all of this.”

  The corner of his lips kicked up. It was, she’d quickly realized, a habit shared by nearly every male at the table. “Sure you will.” He lifted his hand and drizzled honey all over the split biscuit hanging perilously near the edge of her plate. “And if you really can’t, it’s not likely to go to waste around here.” He tilted his head pointedly at the way the contents of the serving platters were diminishing at an alarming pace. “I’ll finish it.”

  “You always were a glutton,” Leandra said fondly from across the table. “How you manage to keep your ‘girlish’ figure, I’ll never know.”

  Axel tossed his wadded-up napkin across the table and she dodged it, laughing.

  “No throwing at the table,” Gloria inserted, without taking her attention from Courtney, who was sitting beside her. From the bits of conversation that Tara could hear, they were thick in discussions about nursing, from which Gloria had evidently retired some years earlier.

  “My figure isn’t in danger,” Axel told Leandra, as she slyly pitched the ivory linen back at him despite Gloria’s warning. “Tara’s the one with all the food on her plate.”

  “Honestly, Ax,” Sarah chided, shaking her head.

  He threw up his hands in surrender. “I’m kidding!” He slanted a look at Tara. “You know that, right? Hell, your figure’s about as perfect as any—” He broke off, evidently taking stock of her flaming cheeks. “Okay.” He turned square to his plate again. “I’m shoving food in my mouth now.”

  “Good idea, son.” Jefferson’s voice was dry.

  Everyone laughed. Even Tara managed to join in and just that quickly, the awkwardness seemed to pass—at least where anyone else was concerned.

  She, however, was fighting the silly spurt of pleasure and surprise that he’d considered her perfect in any way at all.

  She thought she had herself wel
l in control by the time everyone finished eating. And yes, Axel did fork what she couldn’t eat onto his plate in a smooth, simple motion that seemed unbearably intimate to her. The second Jaimie rose to clear the table, she hopped up, too.

  “I’d tell you to sit because you’re a guest, but the more hands the merrier,” Jaimie told her with a grin. “And the quicker we can get dessert on.”

  “That’s what I’m talking about.” Squire rubbed his gnarled hands together, looking gleeful.

  It was such a modern phrase coming from the old man that Tara had to bite the inside of her lip to keep from chuckling. She gathered the dinner plates that were handed to her as she made her way around the table and she realized she was counting heads as she went. Twenty-two. And that wasn’t even the entire family.

  “Honey,” Emily told Axel, “help Tara with the plates. They’re too heavy.”

  “I’m fine,” Tara protested quickly.

  Nevertheless, Axel rose, and lifted the entire lot right out of her hands. “You’ll learn never to argue with my mother.”

  “He’s right.” Jefferson’s voice was wry. “It’s never gotten me anywhere.”

  “Oh, shush. Now, Leandra, darling. You haven’t said when the baby is due.”

  Tara quickly retrieved some of the serving ware from the center of the table and started out of the room. “Early July,” she heard Leandra answer.

  It was all Tara could do not to stop and look at the other woman in surprise. That’s when she was due, and there was no earthly way she could have gotten away with wearing that skinny, ribbed-knit turtleneck that Leandra had on without showing off her quickly developing baby bump.

  She nearly walked right into Axel who was returning from the kitchen. “Want me to take those?”

  She stared at him, her thoughts about babies and due dates so front and center in her mind she nearly blurted out the truth right then and there.

  And wouldn’t that be the capper to this boisterous family’s Sunday dinner?

  “No!” Her answer was a little too emphatic. “No. Thanks. I’ve got them.”