Three Cowboys and a Bride

Chapter 17

Chapter 17

Phoebe woke up and immediately panicked when she didn’t recognize her surroundings. It took her a minute of floundering around to grab her phone and realize she was in Sally’s bed and that it was late. Her clothes sat in a heap on the floor and someone, probably Sally, had put a blanket over her while she slept. She hadn’t intended to stay, but after a bout of crying, exhaustion had set in, and she’d closed her eyes to blot out the horrors of the day and didn’t remember a thing after that.

Phoebe rolled onto her back and stared up at the ceiling. She had to get up and face Max, and she wasn’t sure she could do it. If he was still angry, he might be eager to avoid her as well. There were millions of small tasks left over from the wedding that would keep her away from the barn where Max primarily worked.

Even though it hurt, Max had reminded her of something important. Their marriage wasn’t real and all her silly imaginings of falling in love were just that—silly. She’d projected her pathetic need to be loved onto him, and she had to stop. She pressed a hand to her cheek as she recalled all her stupid attempts to engage his interest. He was too kind to try and stop her, so she had to regroup, strengthen her armor, and go back to being what he’d agreed on—his temporary wife.

Phoebe got up, aware of a headache descending and wished she hadn’t drunk any champagne. She used Sally’s bathroom, gathered up her discarded clothes and other items and went back into Max’s bedroom. The bed was made, and she guessed he’d been gone for several hours. She was fairly confident she wouldn’t be disturbed as she put on her jeans and one of his old T-shirts he’d given her.

She went into the kitchen where a pot of coffee fragranced the air and made herself some tea and a bowl of porridge in the microwave. There was no sign of anyone, but her cell buzzed with a text from Sally, and she checked her phone.

Had to go into work today—will see you at 6. Can you start dinner for everyone? Ingredients for beef casserole are in the refrigerator chopped and ready to go.

Phoebe texted her reply. Will do. I’ll put it in the oven about 5. And received a thumbs-up in return.

Ten minutes later, she put her wellies on and went out to the wedding pergola where she needed to take down the flowers before the structure could be removed. Most of them had wilted or been torn apart by the wind, but there was still a lot to do, and it would keep her busy while she ran through three thousand scenarios about how to deal with Max when she encountered him.

Part of her wished she hadn’t fallen asleep and that she’d packed her bags and run away, but Max deserved better. She was worried about how he felt at seeing his parents after all those years and if he wanted to talk about it. She set the ladder against the first corner post, took off her boots and climbed up.

Not that he’d want to talk to her about anything, but . . . She reached over her head and began the laborious task of untangling the stems, vines and holding wires. She had a pair of wire cutters and scissors in her pocket which made the task a little easier.

She was so engrossed in her work that she didn’t hear someone approach until Max cleared his throat directly beneath her.

“Hey, Phoebe.”

She looked down, her heart thumping and offered a tentative smile. “Hi.”

He had shadows under his eyes and hadn’t yet bothered to shave. She wondered if he’d slept at all.

“Any chance you’d come down the ladder and talk to me?”

“Yes, if you give me ten minutes to finish this tricky bit,” Phoebe said.

“How about while you’re doing that I go and make you some tea and bring it out to you?” Max offered.

“That would be great.”

Phoebe clipped away with some speed as she tried to line up her defenses then descended the ladder. There were still a few rented tables and chairs waiting to be collected so Phoebe opened a couple of chairs and sat down to wait for Max. He came back with two mugs, his head down as he carefully navigated the uneven ground.

“Here you go.”

“Thanks.” Phoebe took a grateful sip. “It’s starting to warm up quite considerably.”

She sternly reminded herself not to gush, not to overload him with her feelings and emotions, and just to be his friend.

For once Max seemed at a loss for words so for a while, they both sipped in silence before he eventually spoke.

“I shouldn’t have gotten mad at you last night, Phoebe.”

“It’s quite all right.”

“No, it isn’t.” He met her gaze. “I’m sorry.”

“You were under a considerable amount of stress and sometimes it’s easier to get cross with a friend than with those who truly hurt you. No one likes to be ambushed, Max. You have my complete sympathy for that.”

“Maria said she did it on impulse.”

“Not that it is any of my business,” Phoebe said carefully, “but I assume she just wants you all to get along and tried to make that happen.”

His smile was wry. “Yeah, that about sums it up. She was very upset.”

“Poor Maria.”

Phoebe sipped her tea and Max shifted around in his chair. She was dying to ask him a million questions as to what had happened after she’d left, but remembered she had no right to know what went on in his family.

“She didn’t stay the night here. She left with my parents.”

She nodded and silence stretched between them.

“Are you feeling okay?” Max asked.

“I have a small headache after imbibing too much champagne, and my feet hurt but, other than that, I’m fine. Thanks for asking.” She offered him a bright smile. “Considering how busy I was yesterday, I’d call that a success.”

He sat back and regarded her from beneath the brim of his Stetson. “I meant the other kind of feelings. The ones I trampled all over last night.”

“You were rightfully upset, Max.” She shrugged. “It happens and you’ve apologized. I don’t know what else you want me to say.”

“So, we’re good?”

“Absolutely.” She smiled again. “After all, what are friends for?”

* * *

At the dinner table, which looked weird without Sky, Jen and Noah, Luke was complaining about the rental company that hadn’t turned up to pick up their tents and other structures.

“Max and I spent all afternoon dismantling those suckers to make it easy for them, and they didn’t even bother to call to tell me they wouldn’t make it until five.”

“That’s very annoying,” Phoebe said. “Would you like me to call them tomorrow, Luke? I’m sure you’ve got a lot to do without having to worry about them.”

Phoebe was quieter than usual, and Max couldn’t work out if it was because she was tired or if there was something else going on. He’d tried to convince himself that they were okay after their earlier discussion, but something was off, and he couldn’t put his finger on it.

“If you’ve got time that would be great,” Luke said. “I’m not sure I’ll be using them for my wedding.”

“I’m not sure you’ll have a lot of choice if you hold the wedding here,” Sally said. “There aren’t that many companies willing to come out this far. That’s why they also think it’s okay to mess you around, but if they try to charge you extra that’s on them.” She pointed at Luke. “And while we’re on the subject, when are you planning on proposing to Bernie?”

“Soon.” Luke gave his mom a long-suffering look. “You’ll be the first to know.” He winked at Phoebe. “Aren’t you glad you escaped all this madness by just marrying this guy? You even had to supply your own engagement ring.”

“That’s on me,” Max said. “I should’ve done something about that straight away.”

“It’s not important,” Phoebe said quickly. “Max did get me a wedding ring. I’m the one who didn’t reciprocate.”

“Max wouldn’t have worn it anyway,” Luke pointed out.

“Because at the time I didn’t want you guys to get on my back about it when we had more important things to worry about,” Max said to Luke but kept his gaze on Phoebe. “And I was keeping my promise to Feebs.”

“Why did you choose to keep it a secret, Phoebe?” Sally asked. “Max won’t say.”

“Because I knew my family wouldn’t approve, and there were some legal matters attached to my marriage that I needed to sort out before it became common knowledge. Max was kind enough to accommodate my wishes, which was very good of him.”

“I can’t imagine Max being all considerate like that,” Luke mused. “I must have missed something.”

“Maybe it’s a tribute to the power of love,” Sally said. “Phoebe makes Max want to be a better person.”

Phoebe laughed and shook her head. “It’s nothing to do with me. He’s always been a good person.”

Sally reached out and gave Phoebe a high-five. “I agree.”

Luke rolled his eyes. “Max has always been great at getting all the women on his side.”

“You jealous, bro?” Max asked. “I can’t help my God-given gifts.”

“Can we stop talking about him before his head gets so big, he can’t get out the door?” Luke complained. “He’s insufferable as it is.”

“We could talk about how my parents turned up last night,” Max said.

Luke looked at his mom. “You told me not to mention that and now here’s Max just laying it out there.”

“It’s Max’s story to tell,” Sally said. “I assume Maria invited them?”

“Apparently they dropped by her place in Reno, found she was out of town, and Maria invited them to join her here and see me.”

“Did she mention that to you?” Sally asked.

“Nope. I only found out when Lucy said they were staying at her place.”

Luke whistled. “That’s . . . not great.”

“Tell me about it.” Max made a face. “I’m not sure what Maria was expecting, but I didn’t handle it well.”

“I’m not sure I would’ve done any better,” Sally consoled him.

“Maria was gutted and after I calmed her down, I did go back and talk to them.” Max paused. “They believed I wanted to see them and were equally upset.”

“Hardly equally,” Luke muttered. “What did you say?”

“I thanked them,” Max said simply. “For doing what they thought was right even though it must have hurt them to do it.”

“That’s . . . mighty forgiving of you, Max.” Sally cleared her throat.

“It needed to be said,” Max insisted. “I also told them I respected their decision.”

“And then you fell into each other’s arms and made up?” Luke asked.

“No, I left it at that.” Max smiled. “I’m not a saint, Luke. I still have a few grudges left in me.”

Phoebe leaned across the table and took his hand, her eyes shining. “I’m so glad, Max. I hope it brings you some peace.”

“And closure,” Sally said from her end of the table. “Do you think they’ll try and keep in touch?”

“I don’t know.” Max sat back. “And to be honest, I’m not sure how I’d feel if they did.”

“Why did Maria reach out to them in the first place?” Luke asked.

“She’s always told them what I’ve been up to.” Max shrugged. “I guess she mentioned I was married, and Mama got all excited about the prospect of grandchildren.”

His gaze moved to Phoebe who was looking down at her clasped hands. He wanted her to look at him, but she wasn’t giving anything away, and it bugged him.

“Not everyone wants a family, Max,” Sally said. “You don’t owe anyone grandchildren.”

“You’ve been bugging me about that for years!” Luke protested. “You have a whole closet jammed full of baby essentials up until the age of five.”

“That’s different.” Sally smiled at him. “I was just hoping you’d work out that Bernie was the woman for you and get on with it years ago.” She looked at Max. “I’m proud of the way you handled your parents.”

“Thanks.”

“I agree,” Luke said. “I would’ve bet on you losing your temper and ordering them off the ranch.”

Phoebe’s gaze flicked over him, and Max tried to hold eye contact. “Phoebe helped me not to do that. She was great.”

“I just stood next to you, Max,” Phoebe said. “Everything else was all you.” She rose to her feet and started collecting the plates. “Does anyone want pudding?”

“We have pudding?” Luke asked. “What kind?”

“Pie, I think. Bernie left us some in the refrigerator.” Phoebe went to check. “Yes, peach and apple. It’s a shame we don’t have any custard.”

“Pie isn’t pudding,” Luke said.

Phoebe frowned. “I suppose it isn’t. We call all desserts pudding in England.”

“Which is weird.”

“Especially since all puddings aren’t desserts.”

Luke patted her seat. “How about you sit down and explain that to me while Max does all the work?”

“If you wish.” Phoebe took a seat. “Shall I start with the savory puddings and work from there?”

* * *

A week later, Max still wasn’t sure what was going on with Phoebe. She listened to him talk, answered all his questions, and laughed at his jokes, but something had changed, and he didn’t know how to get it back. She was still the same loving person, but she wasn’t his Phoebe, and the more he tried to talk to her about it, the more frustrating it became because she agreed with whatever he said, apologized when necessary, and didn’t offer the slightest criticism.

Max paused as he removed the last plates from the dishwasher. Was that it? Was she too scared to disagree with him because she’d seen what he was like when he lost his temper? Even the thought of that made him feel bad. He shut the door and went to get more coffee. He’d already been out and done his chores and was about to start cooking breakfast. Phoebe hadn’t come down to the barn to help since the night of the wedding and he missed her.

Jeez . . . Max wanted to kick something. He was the one who broke things, not the fixer. He’d never cared enough about anybody or anything to go back, pick up the pieces, and make things work.

“Oh!” Phoebe came in and halted in the doorway. “Hi! I thought you’d be out working. I was just thinking of getting breakfast started.”

“I finished early,” Max said. “And I had the same idea.”

“Then we can do it together.” Phoebe smiled at him. “Just remember not to cook too much because Noah isn’t here to finish everything off.”

“Copy that.” Max stepped to the refrigerator and got out the eggs, bacon, butter, and maple syrup. “Pancakes okay for you, Feebs? I’ll do the bacon.”

She went into the pantry to get the flour and some oil and mixed up a big batch of batter in Sally’s stand mixer. She poured it into a jug and set it on the counter.

“I’ll just let it sit for a minute.”

Max glanced at the large griddle, which hadn’t quite gotten to the right temperature yet. “Plenty of time. I’ll text Luke to make sure he knows we’re cooking.”

Phoebe washed her hands, her back to him. “I need to start planning my trip back to England for Eugenie’s wedding.”

Max didn’t have anything he wanted to say about that.

“Is there a cab company around here that could take me to Reno to catch my plane?”

He frowned. “I’ll take you.”

“You’re shorthanded right now with Noah being away. I don’t want to leave Luke all by himself.”

“Screw Luke. I’m taking you.”

Her sigh was faint, but he heard it. “Okay, thanks, Max. I appreciate it.”

He tested the griddle and slapped a dozen pieces of bacon down one side, which immediately spat and sizzled.

For some reason he couldn’t seem to let it go. “How could you think I wouldn’t want to drive you to the airport?”

“I said it was fine, Max.”

She brought over the jug of batter and started dropping perfect little circles on the free side of the griddle. Max handed her a spatula to flip them.

“I know we’ve had our issues recently, but while you’re here, you’re still my wife and my responsibility.”

Her face assumed the pleasant mask he’d come to dread, and she focused all her attention on the pancakes.

“You can disagree with me, Feebs. I’m not going to bite.”

She laughed as if he were making a joke. “I am quite a competent person you know. I managed to get all the way to Reno by myself.”

“Are you really going to take your family to court?” Max asked.

“Yes.” She looked up at him, her brown gaze fierce. “I don’t see any alternative.”

“Then let me come with you.” Max hadn’t meant to say that. He’d never begged for anything since his parents had handed him over to the school and never come back. “We can face those idiots together.”

“That’s very sweet, but you’ve done a lot more than you signed up for when I made you marry me. I can’t expect you to do that for me.”

“You didn’t make me marry you.”

Her eyebrows rose. “I was the one who suggested it.”

“That’s not what I meant.” Max realized his temper was igniting and it probably showed on his face. He needed to get control.

She reached out and touched his arm, her expression so sincere that it almost hurt him to look at her. “You’ve been absolutely wonderful to me, Max, but at some point, I have to stand on my own two feet. Can you understand that?”

“That’s still a choice, Feebs.” Man, and he thought his mama was stubborn. “You don’t have to do it alone.”

Her expression softened. “I know, and I love that you’d do that for me.” She went to kiss him and then backed off. “Oops! My pancakes are going to burn if I don’t take them off. Let me get a plate.”

He went to grab her wrist, but she was already on the move, leaving him staring at the bacon as if he didn’t know what it was. She was obviously totally at peace with walking away from him, and wasn’t mad about their fight, so why wasn’t he cool with it? He’d always preferred his relationships to be conflict-free.

She took a couple of large plates out of the cupboard and brought them over with a smile.

“Here you go. I’ll start on the next batch right away.”

* * *

Phoebe’s smile disappeared as soon as she flung herself onto the bed and she counted to ten. It was exhausting pretending everything was fine. She truly wanted Max to be happy and had forgiven him for getting cross with her. Being close to him, still having feelings for him, and knowing she’d been a fool were a hard set of emotions to constantly juggle.

Max came into the bedroom and shut the door behind him.

“Feebs, can we talk this out?”

She blinked at him. “I thought we already had.”

He leaned back against the door and regarded her. “You say that, but something’s off.”

Phoebe scrambled to sit up and braced herself for another difficult conversation.

“Are you afraid I’ll get mad at you again?”

“No one likes being shouted at, Max, but as I’ve already explained, I understand why you were angry, and—”

He held up his hand. “I get that. It’s not what I’m asking.”

Phoebe crossed her arms over her chest. “I don’t know what you want me to say.”

“I want you to be . . . you. To feel free to say what the hell you want to me.” He held her gaze. “You’re holding back, and I don’t want you to feel like that around me.”

Phoebe looked down at her feet. “I’m doing my best, Max.”

“That’s . . .” He looked heavenward. “Not. It.”

She pressed her lips together.

“I’ve got a temper. Sometimes I get mad, but I’m working on it—I really am.”

She nodded.

“Phoebe.” He came and crouched by the bed, his voice gentle. “What can I do to make things right?”

It took everything she had not to fling herself into his arms, tell him how she really felt, and let herself be comforted. Instead, she gave him what she hoped was a reassuring smile.

“We’re fine, Max—really. I’m just exhausted from all the wedding preparations and worrying about what awaits me at home.”

She risked a glance at him and immediately regretted it because he looked so sincere.

“Are you sure you’re not still mad at me for wanting to come to England with you?”

She frowned. “I’m not cross about that at all.”

He looked steadily at her. “It’s okay to say I wouldn’t make the grade with your folks. I’d be embarrassed to take me anywhere, but—”

She belatedly remembered what Jen had suggested to her about Max’s childhood and reached out to cup his chin. “Max, that isn’t it at all! On the contrary, they don’t deserve to meet you.” She gathered all her resources and hoped he could see the sincerity in her gaze. “There’s just been a lot going on and I’m worn out.”

She leaned in to kiss him and rose to her feet. “I have a load of washing to do before I leave, and I want to get it outside to dry while it’s still warm.”

Max stood up as well, his gaze troubled. “Whatever it is, Feebs, and whenever you’re ready, I’ll listen, okay?”

Her phone rang and she paused to check the number before answering it.

“Hello?”

“Phoebe? It’s Lucy. I have someone here who says he’s your brother.”

Specks of black floated past Phoebe’s eyes and she took a deep breath. “I beg your pardon?”

“He says he’s the Earl of Westhaven! Does that ring any bells?” Lucy sounded thrilled. “Do you want me to give him directions up to the ranch or will you come down?”

“I’ll come down,” Phoebe said faintly. “Thank you.”

She ended the call and stared at Max. “My brother. . .”

“Has agreed to your terms?”

“Not quite.” Phoebe swallowed hard. “He’s at the BB.”

Max grabbed his jacket. “Then I guess we should go and see what he wants.”