The Accidental Bride by Denise Hunter Page B

going to tell your parents?”
    â€œTalked to them this afternoon. I’ll keep tabs on the ranch for them. They know about our marriage—said to tell you congrats.”
    Something like a growl snarled across the line. “Good-bye, McCoy.”
    â€œGet used to it, darlin’.”
    Her answer was a click followed by a dial tone.

15
    T ravis pulled his truck to Shay’s barn and turned off the ignition. It was predawn, and the house lights were off, the property quiet. Home sweet home. At least for the next five months.
    He exited the cab and made his way toward the barn on buoyant legs. He loved mornings. The crisp air, the smell of dew. But that wasn’t why he could scarcely keep his feet on the ground.
    He didn’t take this second chance for granted. He’d winged a thousand prayers of gratitude skyward since Shay’s call, in between packing his bags and tossing in bed until his alarm sounded.
    He entered the barn and flipped the light switch. Nothing. Strange. He felt his way to the tack room and flipped that one. Same thing.
    Faulty fuse? Electricity out? It hadn’t stormed. There could’ve been an accident, but he’d had electricity at the Barr M.
    Probably just a breaker. He fetched the flashlight in his truck and found the breaker box in the barn. Nothing wrong there. He needed light to work, and the sun wasn’t going to hasten its arrival. He wondered where Shay kept her generator.
    Travis scanned the barn but didn’t see one. He hated to wake her, but chores were waiting.
    Making up his mind, he lit out for the house. The darkened structure took on a new meaning. Electricity probably went out in the middle of the night. Shay’s alarm wouldn’t have gone off.
    He turned off the flashlight as he reached for the doorknob. No sense spooking them. The door was unlocked, just as he expected. If he’d thought the barn was dark, the house was a cave. He closed the door quietly. The air was cool. The girls must be freezing.
    Two steps in, a phone pealed loudly. Shay’s cell lit up across the room. Maybe it was the electric company. No, not this early.
    Between rings, he heard the bedding rustle in Shay’s room.
    Better answer before Olivia woke too. He started for the phone, bumped his leg on a table, and hobbled the last few steps, biting his tongue.
    He grabbed the phone on what felt like the twentieth ring. “Yeah,” he said quietly.
    No response.
    â€œHello?” he said, louder.
    Across the room, there was an awkward thump-thump in the vicinity of Shay’s bedroom. He pictured her standing in the doorway, crutched, rumpled, and most likely glaring. No wonder, after the ruckus he’d made.
    â€œWho is this?” a voice demanded. Beau Meyers: the riled version.
    Travis walked the phone toward Shay’s shadow. “For you.” What was he doing here, in her house, answering her phone? There was no hiding the lack of electricity now. Of course he had to find out. But she didn’t have to like it. And she didn’t have to like his waltzing into her place like he owned it and answering her personal phone.
    Shay snatched the lit-up cell from his hand. “This is Shay.” It came out like a croak.
    â€œWas that McCoy ?”
    Beau. Perfect. She cleared her throat. “ ’Morning, Beau.”
    â€œDon’t good morning me, Shay. What’s he doing there?”
    She shouldered the phone, shut the door firmly, adding a glare she knew Travis couldn’t see, and hobbled toward her bed. This was not the way she’d planned to tell Beau. Why hadn’t she just broken things off at the picnic? It was all Travis’s fault. Blast the man.
    â€œShay?”
    â€œIt’s a long story. I was going to tell you.”
    â€œBy all means, go right ahead.”
    She couldn’t blame him for being sore. She was a lowlife, letting him think there was more to their relationship. Her foot had begun