“I warned you.” It all seemed so unreal. The gravity of Tucker’s voice shook her to the core. He meant it. He would ruin Gavin. And it was as much her fault as his. Instinctively, she knew she could have stopped him from making love to her. He never would have forced himself on her. He’d given her ample opportunity to stop it from happening. And now he would be the one who was punished. What would happen to the children if he went to jail or lost his ranch? It would be because of her. She couldn’t let that happen to them. Her eyes met Gavin’s. She couldn’t let it happen. No matter how much she tried to tell herself he might deserve it, she couldn’t let it happen.

“If there’s no other choice,” she whispered, “I’ll marry him.”

She wasn’t aware of the pleased smiles exchanged between Tucker and Maggie. The minister had arrived. The guests were gathered in the parlor. In a few minutes, Rachel would descend the stairs and become his bride. He wished he’d had some time alone with her, just a moment to tell her that he was a willing participant in this marriage. It had seemed logical in the judge’s chambers to make her think he was only doing it to protect himself. It didn’t seem so logical any longer. But there hadn’t been a chance to talk with her. He’d spent the same amount of time with Rachel in the ten days since he’d agreed to this marriage as he had in the days between his first visit to the Branigan home and that fateful meeting in Tucker’s office. Which amounted to exactly no time with her at all. He glanced toward the stairs, wondering how much longer it would be before Rachel appeared on the second floor landing. She should know how he felt. She should know that he wanted her for his wife. Maybe you love her. Love her? No. He’d decided long ago never to allow that emotion to surface for a woman. He wanted her. She was the most desirable creature he’d ever seen. He admired her. She was intelligent and had grit and stamina and wasn’t afraid to face life head-on. He liked her. She could make him laugh with her delightful sense of humor, and she was warm and caring with the children.

But love? The word wasn’t even part of Gavin Blake’s vocabulary. Except, of course, he loved the children. There was no avoiding loving those two. But that wasn’t the same thing. Maybe he’d loved Dru, but that had been different too. She’d been his friend. She’d been in need. There hadn’t been any risk in loving Dru. Loving Rachel would be a terrible risk, especially if she didn’t love him in return. She had loved him once. He’d seen it in her eyes, if only he hadn’t been too blind to recognize it. But what if she could never love him again? What if she was trapped into this marriage and grew to hate him for what he’d done? No, he couldn’t love her. But he could let her know he wanted her to be his wife. He wanted her with him, not just to take care of the children, not just because she could be carrying his child, not just to keep house and help him with the ranch and to make her

brother-in -law happy. He wanted her with him just to be with him. Rachel stared at her reflection in the mirror. Swirls of white satin floated over and around her. Delicate lace edged her throat and wrists. Pearls studded the cap of her veil and the train of her gown. She could stop the wedding, of course. She could tell Maggie that she wasn’t pregnant. Her monthly flow had come and gone during the past ten days. There was no reason to go through with this travesty. Outside of the four of them, who would ever know of Rachel’s indiscretion? Perhaps, should she decide to marry in the future, her husband would guess. But if he loved her, he would forgive her. Only she didn’t want another man’s forgiveness, and she didn’t want to be another man’s wife. She sighed and moved away from the mirror, stopping beside the open window. Although March was still a week away, there was the fresh scent of spring in the air and a renewed strength in the sun. The trees beside the river were full of birds, and the first new colt had arrived in the Branigan barn only three days before. She took a deep breath, hoping against hope that it would clear the confusion from her head and heart. She loved him and he’d hurt her. She was glad he’d come to Boise, yet furious with him for his reasons. She wanted to be his wife, but hated the way it was happening. She could stop it if she wanted. So why didn’t she? She heard the door opening.

“I’ll be ready in a moment, Maggie,” she said without looking behind her. Gavin’s deep voice surprised her.

“It’s not Maggie.” Rachel turned slowly. He looked different in the fine dress suit and silk hat. He was as handsome as ever, but she realized that she much preferred him in his denim trousers and boots, his black hair tousled by the wind. He was like the country he’d chosen to live in, strong and enduring, bending beneath strong winds like a mighty tree, but refusing to break. He was silent as his gaze caressed her, starting with the filmy veil covering her hair and moving leisurely to the train of her gown that formed a satin pool around her feet. Her breathing slowed as she tolerated—no, delighted in—his perusal. Finally, his eyes returned to her face.

“We have to talk, Rachel.” So, it would be Gavin who called an end to it after all. She should have known it wouldn’t be up to her.

“There are things I should have said and didn’t, and you’ve got a right to hear them before you come down those stairs and agree to be my wife.” Her reply was nearly inaudible.

“What things?”

“I want you with me, Rachel. I don’t know what kind of husband I’ll be to you. I’ll do my best not to hurt you, my best to provide for you. I can’t promise you an easy life. You know what it’s like up there. You’ve seen it for yourself.” He fell silent. Rachel looked into the depths of those familiar steel-gray eyes and felt her heart give.

“Is that all you came to say?” She waited, longing to hear the words, longing to say them herself.

“I came up here to ask you to be my wife. Not because you were forced into it, but because it’s what you want.”

I love you, Gavin.

“Yes, I’ll be your wife. Not because I was forced into it, but because it’s what I want.” Tell me you love me, Gavin. Say the words. He placed his hand on the doorknob.

“I hope I’ll never make you sorry, Rachel. I’ll do my best.” He turned, his hand twisting the knob.

“Gavin…” He glanced over his shoulder.

“There’s no baby. I’m not pregnant.” Now was his chance to change his mind. Now he could make a run for the hills. She had given him his out. Would he take it? His smile was gentle.

“There’ll be plenty of time for babies.” And then he was gone.

“And by the power vested in me, I now pronounce you man and wife.” Her heart racing, Rachel turned toward Gavin. His hands lifted the veil, and their eyes met. Her husband. It seemed unreal. Like a dream. She was afraid she would awaken and find it all gone. He cupped her face in his hands as he leaned forward and kissed her gently on the lips. Time seemed to stop. The guests, the minister—all disappeared except for the two of them. I was right, she thought as he kissed her. That day up on the ridge, that first moment she’d realized she loved Gavin. This was what I’ve been waiting for all along.

Chapter Thirty-Five

It had been in a hotel room much like this that she had first seen Gavin Blake. As Rachel crossed the sitting room toward the window, she remembered the way she’d felt when she first looked into his eyes, that jolt of awareness of another human being such as she’d never felt before. If she had been aware that day of what the next few months would bring, would she still have taken the job as governess? She turned and looked at Gavin as he carried her valise across the sitting room to the bedroom. Yes! her heart replied to her silent question. Yes! When he returned from the bedroom, their eyes met. Her stomach fluttered in response. For so long her love for Gavin had been forbidden. She wasn’t sure what to do now that it was allowed.

“I’ve ordered some supper for us,” Gavin said.

“I noticed you didn’t eat anything after the ceremony.” She wasn’t sure she could eat anything now. He came toward her, stopping within arm’s reach.

“You never looked more beautiful than you did today.” She flushed with pleasure.

“I’d better add some fuel to that fire. It’s getting cold outside. You can feel it through the windows.” He turned away from her. As he walked across the room, he removed his suit coat and tossed it across the nearest chair. His tie and collar were the next to go. Watching him, she wondered if all brides were as nervous as she was on their wedding nights. It wasn’t that she didn’t know what was ahead of her. In fact, the knowing brought a rush of anticipation that warmed her throughout. Still, she felt awkward, not sure what to do or what to say. And so she remained standing beside the window, the town beyond

the glass bathed in the darkness of night. He sensed her nervousness and wondered if she had any idea that he was nervous too. It seemed a cowardly, unmanly thing to admit, even to himself. It wasn’t the first time he’d been in a hotel room with a woman, and it definitely wasn’t going to be the first time he’d bedded a woman either.

But this time it was different. This time he was with his bride. They lingered over the supper that was brought up to them, neither of them eating much as their eyes met and parted dozens of times across the mahogany table. The mantel clock chimed the hour, the quarter hour, the half hour, and still they remained at the table. She was beautiful. She looked so exquisite, sitting there in her rose-colored gown. Did he have the right to take something so fine and delicate to the high country, to a life of hard work and few pleasures? Was it possible that she had freely chosen that life over the one she’d known here, over the one she could have had with Patrick O’Donnell—or had she really had a choice? She was young and innocent. She couldn’t possibly know what she’d done in marrying him. She’d felt remorse over their night of passion, and that had colored her judgment. She’d told him she was marrying him of her own free will, but society and her family were pressuring her all the same. She would come to regret her decision. Eventually, she would choose to leave him. And, God help him, he couldn’t bear the thought of life without Rachel. A calm overtook Rachel, and she was no longer afraid. That same sense of destiny that had washed over her at the wedding, a certainty that here was where she belonged, returned. This was right. She had no reason to be nervous.