Carly wanted to die. Now everyone in the room was staring at her.

Zeke gave her fingers a comforting squeeze. "Don't worry about it. No one knows what you need to talk to him about."

Carly realized she was clinging to his hand like a lost child, but when she tried to slip her fingers free, he tightened his grip. "Don't take off," Zeke murmured, his deep voice so much like Hank's that it was uncanny. "Hank's coming. At least talk to him before you make like a runaway bride."

A tweed jacket suddenly swam before Carly's eyes. "What's wrong, sweetheart?"

Hank's voice. Carly leaned toward him, relieved when Zeke relinquished his hold on her hand. "I've decided I can't do this," she said weakly. "It's all a lie. A big, horrible lie. I just can't do this."

Hank slipped an arm around her shoulders and bent closer. Feeling him, being held by him, worked on Carly's nerves like a soothing balm, which struck her as the greatest insanity of all.

"Hey," he said. "Nothing's changed. This is just a technicality."

"Not to your mother. She asked me to call her Mom."

He rubbed her shoulder. "She's maternal by nature. Even the neighborhood kids call her Mom of Grandma. Calm down, sweetheart. Remember our reasons for doingthis?"Carly nodded numbly.

"We have to think of our baby. Right?"She nodded again, wondering why it seemed so sensible when he talked about itand always seemed so insane when she was left with only her thoughts bumpingaround inside her brain.

"In a few days," Hank assured her, "we'll come clean and tell my folks our plans. Allright?"

"Then they'll despise me for using you.""No, they won't. They'll think you're a wonderful, brave young woman who's doingthe very best she can for their grandchild."

Bess joined them just then. Hank quickly explained that Carly was having second

thoughts."You can't back out now," Bess insisted. "You've come this far, Carls. Just do it.Forget everything else and just think about the baby."

The JP called for silence just then and asked who was going to give away the bride.Bess raised her hand. "I am!" she hollered.

Every head in the room swiveled toward her."Carly's father isn't here," Bess explained with a shrug. "We've been best friends allour lives. It only seems right that I should be the one to give her away."

Laughter followed that pronouncement. Bess ignored it and straightened the flowersin Carly's bouquet, talking softly as she gently fluffed each blossom. "You have to dothis, Carls. Don't think. Just stand up there with Hank and say the words. They don'tmean anything."

"Since when?""Since you and Hank agreed they don't."

The crowd parted. Hank went to stand to the JP's left. He straightened his shoulders, looking like Zeke at a distance. Carly's stomach tumbled, and she was afraid she might get sick. That was all this awful gathering needed, the bride puking in the trashcan. From a distance, she couldn't tell one brother from another. Not that it mattered. Zeke, Hank. She couldn't honestly say she had a preference. She didn't care who married her, just so long as she got a husband who'd pay the bills. It was ugly. It was a sacrilege and a mockery of everything holy. She couldn't believe she'd sunk this low.

"It's not right to deceive his family and friends like this." Carly's heart bumped wildly against her ribs. "They're all so nice, and they've been so kind."

Bess patted another flower and smiled. "And aren't you lucky that they are? People like these will understand why you did this, and they'll be glad of it."

A dark head leaned down to their eye level just then. Carly almost jumped out of her skin. Zeke. He touched a hand to her shoulder. "Your friend is absolutely right. My niece or nephew is the primary concern at this moment. Don't worry about anyone else. If they can't understand the necessity of this marriage, I'll personally set them straight."

Bess smiled and said, "Oops. I didn't realize we had an eavesdropper."

Zeke grinned. "I have a talent for listening in when I shouldn't." He turned a friendly gaze back to Carly, and his expression softened. "In all seriousness, honey, you have no choice but to do this. And don't think of it as a big deception. When it comes to the welfare of a child, who the hell cares?"

Carly took that thought with her to the front of the room, where she stood beside a man she barely knew to become his lawfully wedded wife.

Hank said his vows first. He turned her hands palm up as instructed, supporting them with his own, and repeated his lines after the justice of the peace. "These hands will be yours, from this moment forward, yours in times of sorrow to comfort you, yours in times of hardship to sustain you, yours in time of danger to protect you. With your help, they will work to make your dreams come true. They will give you strength when your own falters. They will give you courage when you're afraid. And I swear to you before God and all these witnesses that they will never be lifted in anger against you."

Tears blurred Carly's vision, which was a bad thing because then she couldn't even see him. His hands were there, though, holding fast to hers, already fulfilling two of the promises he'd just made, lending her strength when her own was flagging and courage when she was afraid. The rest of his vows entered her brain and resounded to create a jumble of disjointed words.

Then the JP said, "Carly Jane Adams, please repeat after me." He went on, cueing her with short lines, which she parroted, word for word, promising to love and honor Hank Coulter until death did they part. She didn't hear the word obey in the vows she was asked to repeat, but she was so upset and nervous that, for all she knew, she'd just recited the Gettysburg Address.

Somehow, she got through the ceremony, allowing Hank to slip the rings onto her finger, then managing, with his assistance, to slip a ring onto his. When the justice of the peace pronounced them man and wife, Carly's legs turned watery, but Hank's arm was there, strong and hard around her waist, to hold her up. When he was told that he could kiss his bride, he kept the kiss light and impersonal, a feathery touch of his lips on hers that was more dream than reality.

It was done. Carly turned with him to face their guests. The JP introduced them as Mr. and Mrs. Hank Coulter. Everyone rushed forward to congratulate them.

Afterward, Carly went through the motions, signing her name to a paper she could barely see, then hanging onto Hank's arm to leave the courthouse. The drive to his parents' house passed in a swimming blur, and once they arrived, Carly once again went through the motions, feeling as if she'd become trapped in a nightmare. Voices erupted around her-white noise that penetrated her eardrums, filled her head, and didn't register. She would get through this. She had to get through this.

Hank never left Carly's side. Though she tensed every time he touched her, he frequently slipped an arm around her, feeling a need to reassure her.

After circling the room to chat with everyone, Bess joined Hank and Carly by the fireplace. "This is a lovely reception," she said. "I can't believe Mary pulled it off on such short notice."

"My mom is pretty amazing," Hank replied. "And she loves to entertain, probably because she has such a knack for it."

"Everything's perfect," Carly inserted. "When I think of all the trouble she's gone to, it makes me feel awful. It wasn't supposed to be like this."

Hank had already apologized for the size of the gathering and the fact that his mom had insisted on a reception. Mary started circling the room just then with a platter of hors d'oeuvres. When she reached Hank and Carly, Carly politely took a small plate and dutifully selected several of the offerings.

"Yum!" Bess said after sampling a stuffed mushroom. "How delicious!"

After filling a plate for himself, Hank complimented his mother on the preparations and thanked her yet again for all her hard work.

"It was nothing!" Mary protested. "You know me. I love doing things like this." She beamed a smile at Carly. "It's a very special day."

After Mary moved away, she frequently glanced around the room to make sure all of her guests were attended to, which prompted her to look back at Hank and Carly each time she scanned the room.

"If the hors d'oeuvres aren't to your taste, you don't have to eat them," Hank whispered to his bride. "I know your stomach is easily upset right now."

Carly smiled and shook her head. "I was so nervous about getting ready today that I forgot to eat lunch. It's good to get something in my stomach. I tend to get queasy if I don't eat."

She managed to get down three small crackers, spread with specialty cheeses and garnished with green olives. Then Hank noticed her picking at the food.

"Too rich?" he asked.

She nodded almost imperceptibly. Hank hurriedly cleaned his own plate and switched with her. She flashed him a grateful look.

"Thank you, Hank. I wouldn't want to hurt your mom's feelings by not eating the food."

Hank had already determined that-and it only drove home to him what a sweet, caring individual Carly was. A few minutes later, she cemented that opinion by exclaiming appreciatively over the cake Mary had baked and decorated.

"Everything's so lovely," Carly said, touching the pretty wedding napkins with reverent fingertips. "No one's ever had a nicer reception, Mary. Thank you so much for going to all this trouble."

"It's Mom to you," Mary reminded her, "and it wasn't a lick of trouble. I was happy to be able to do it."

When Hank and Carly went to the table to cut the cake and toast each other with champagne, Hank had a bad moment. Pregnant women weren't supposed to drink alcohol.

"It's safe," Zeke whispered in Hank's ear. "I emptied a bottle and filled it with sparkling cider."

Hank wanted to hug his brother. "Thanks, Zeke. I owe you one."

Zeke glanced at Carly. "How are you holding up?" he asked with a teasing grin. "We're a rambunctious group. Are you overwhelmed yet?"

Carly laughed. "You do have a large family. But you're all so nice that I'm not feeling the least bit overwhelmed."

That was true, up to a point. Carly did like Hank's family. How could she not? But that didn't mean she felt at ease. Since the wedding ceremony, Hank had taken to touching her frequently and in a manner that she perceived as being possessive. Each time he curled an arm around her, her heart bumped wildly against her ribs, and it was all she could do to breathe normally when he splayed a hand over her ribs, his fingertips coming perilously close to the underside of her breast. What if he'd changed his mind about their pre-nuptial agreement? So far, he hadn't given her anything in writing as he'd promised.

Carly had little time to dwell on that concern as the reception festivities got under way, but the worry was there at the back of her mind, ready to leap to the foreground each time her husband touched her in a proprietary way.

Hank filled the champagne flutes, which were bedecked with ribbon at the stems, then linked wrists with Carly and joined her in drinking to their future. As he swallowed the sparkling cider, he couldn't help but look at his bride with burgeoning pride. As difficult a situation as this undoubtedly was for her, she'd comported herself with charming grace the entire afternoon. Hank couldn't count the times that relatives and friends had told him what a lucky devil he was to have landed such a catch, and he totally agreed with them. How he'd managed to single out someone like Carly in a rowdy honky-tonk, he'd never know.

He held her hand to cut the cake. Everyone applauded. He served up a piece onto a little paper plate decorated with silver ribbons and flowers. Carly gamely gave him the first bite, taking care not to smear frosting on his mouth. Afterward, he put a small amount on his own fork and tipped it into her mouth.

Everyone cheered and toasted to their happy future. Hank kept an arm around his wife's shoulders as the toasts to their happiness began. Harv started them off, saying that he and Mary were delighted to welcome Carly into the family, and that they wished the newlyweds nothing but happiness.

After refilling everyone's glasses, Jake, the eldest Coulter son, took over. "It seems really strange to be standing here," he said. "I've watched my little brother grow up, wiping his nose, putting Band-Aids on his scraped knees, and guarding his back as a teenager when he got into fights. Along the way, I guess I got to thinking he would always be my little brother, that nothing would ever change." Eyes shining, Jake raised his flute. "Welcome to our family, Carly. Congratulations, little brother. The best to both of you."

Zeke came forward then. "I can scarcely believe that my baby brother has gone and gotten married. As I watched him tie the knot today, I thanked God throughout the ceremony that it wasn't me." Everyone laughed. Zeke settled his gaze on Carly. "Mostly, anyway. I have to say that there were moments, while looking at my brother's bride, that I felt envious. He's definitely landed a keeper. A more beautiful bride I've never seen."

The women cooed, "Oh, how sweet." The men said, "Here, here!"

Zeke took a sip of champagne, then turned his attention back to the newlyweds. "Now I'm just wondering why you're still hanging around, little brother. If I had a bride that beautiful, I'd be champing at the bit to hustle her out to my truck and begin my honeymoon. What's keeping you?"

Mary cried, "We haven't even had cake yet, and they still haven't opened their gifts!"

Hank sorely wished that it were possible for him and Carly to duck out early. He didn't know how much more of this Carly could gracefully take. On the one hand, he appreciated the fact that both his father and Zeke, who knew the marriage was only temporary, hadn't let the cat out of the bag. On the other hand, he also understood that it must be trying for Carly to endure all the best wishes for a happy future, not to mention the hints that Hank might be eager to leave so he could consummate their union.

He was glad to see Carly eat an entire piece of cake. After the refreshment portion of the reception was over, everyone gravitated back to the living room to watch the newlyweds open their gifts. Hank had never seen so many small appliances in one place, and he quickly lost track of who had given them what. He was relieved to see that his sister-in-law Molly was keeping a list and made a mental note to thank her later.

When the gifts had all been opened, Hank drew his wife into the curve of his arm to make the rounds and thank all their guests for coming. Carly graciously shook hands with the men and returned the women's hugs. She was especially sweet and appreciative when she thanked Hank's mother.

Hank could have done without the rice and bouquet tossing, but Mary Coulter was a stickler for details. In a shower of rice, he hurried his bride toward his truck, which was parked on the street. At the curb, Carly turned to throw her bouquet.

"Right here!" Bess yelled. "If I catch it, maybe I'll get lucky!"

Carly laughed. "Here it comes!" she called.

The bouquet went flying, only not toward Bess as Carly intended. Instead the cluster of flowers veered left and hit Zeke dead center in the chest. He reacted instinctively, grabbing the bouquet to prevent it from dropping to the ground. Then he grimaced, which made everyone burst out laughing.

"No way," Zeke said. "I'm not next. I'm staying a bachelor."

He tried to hand the flowers off to Bess, but she shook her head. "Nope. You caught it. You're stuck."

Everybody was still laughing as Hank helped his wife into the truck. Without thinking, he reached across Carly's lap to fasten her seat belt and then adjusted the shoulder strap to angle across her chest. In the process, the backs of his knuckles grazed her breast. She sucked in a sharp breath. He froze. For a tension-packed instant, they stared at each other, Hank acutely conscious of how her nipple had hardened at the slight touch.

He quickly collected himself and closed the passenger door. By the time he circled the front bumper and climbed in on the driver's side, Carly was huddling as close to the door as possible, her arms wrapped tightly around her slender waist. Her posture screamed, "Don't touch me!"

It was a hell of a way to begin a marriage, Hank thought as he tromped on the accelerator to get away.

Chapter Thirteen.

As Hank drove across Lazy J land to the cabin by the creek, the truck lights cut a golden swath through thick stands of pine, the bouncing beams creating a shadow play of black shapes that danced among the trunks like madcap ballerinas. Beyond the illumination, the woods were eerily dark.

Carly leaned against the passenger door. She felt mildly nauseated and could only hope she didn't get sick. She stared at the blurry world beyond the glass, wishing she were going to the apartment so she could sleep in her own bed. The day's events had drained her. Her face ached from smiling so much.

"You okay?" Hank asked.

Just ducky. She was married to a man she barely knew, and this was their wedding night. She wanted to believe that Hank would stand good on his promise to her, but given the fact that he'd never given her the signed agreement as promised, she couldn't help but worry that he'd changed his mind. She wished now that she'd thought to ask him for the document, but it had been such a crazy, fast-paced day that she'd forgotten about it until it was too late.

"I'm fine," she replied. "Just tired."

"Me too. It's been a trying afternoon."

She seriously doubted the evening would be much better. Married. Every time she thought about it, she found it difficult to breathe.

He stopped by a squat, shadowy structure, shifted into park, and turned off the lights and engine. "Home sweet home," he said. "It's just a small log house, two bedrooms, nothing fancy. But we can fix it up. I figured you'd feel more comfortable here than at the main house. This way, you'll have more privacy."

At the moment, Carly didn't care what the place looked like. All she wanted was to lie on a reasonably clean surface, preferably alone, and sleep.

"Sit tight," he instructed. "I'll come around. It's black as pitch out there, and the ground's uneven."

He leaned over the seat to grab her overnight case. When he opened his door, the dome light flashed on, the brightness lacerating her aching eyes. Cool night air rushed into the cab, raising goose flesh on her bare arms. She was relieved when he slammed the door, swamping her in darkness again.

Seconds later, he tapped her window. At the warning, Carly pushed erect and unfastened her seat belt as he opened the door. When he touched her elbow, she turned, thinking he'd offer her a steadying hand as she exited the vehicle. Instead he caught her around the waist and swung her easily to the ground. During those brief seconds of contact, Carly felt the strength in his shoulders and arms-pads of vibrant muscle that bunched under the wool jacket...

He slipped an arm around her waist, his big hand splaying over her side. "Sorry about the holes. Most times the cabin sits empty, and we haven't kept up the yard. Careful." He tightened his hold on her as he leaned around to retrieve the overnight case that he'd left sitting on the front bumper. "Some of these chuck holes are pretty deep."

Carly was relieved when they reached the porch. He released her to open the door, then stood back to let her enter. As she stepped into the interior darkness, she shivered, despite the warmth that curled around her. Hank flipped on a floor lamp to bathe the room in dim, golden light.

"Bess mentioned that light hurts your eyes," he said, "so I put forty-watt bulbs in all the lamps. I hope it helps."

It helped immensely, the glow dim and golden rather than glaring. She could scarcely believe he'd been so thoughtful. "It's great, Hank. Thank you for thinking of it."

"I left the kitchen and bath fixtures as they were. If they're too bright, just say so, and I'll take care of it."

He pushed the door closed, then drew off his jacket and tossed it over a comfortable-looking brown leather chair. Still shivering, Carly rubbed her arms as she took in the small living room. A river rock-faced fireplace graced a wall to her right. A leather sofa and chairs sat at angles in front of the hearth, conjuring visions in her mind of cold winter evenings spent before a cheery fire. Beyond the sofa, she saw an old wooden table and chairs.

"I've got a fire laid," he assured her. "Would you like my jacket until it warms up in here?"