Free Rocky Mountain Rose (Rocky Mountain Bride Series Book 3) by Lee Savino Page B

be in name only.
    “Let me fulfill this last promise to Mary.”
    The hardness crept over her again. “For Mary,” she agreed, coldly, as another knock sounded on the door. Lyle left her side and she shut her eyes. He didn’t want her; he wanted to fulfill his promise to her sister. She was a pale copy for her beautiful and sweet sibling, but he would see to her just the same. Bitterness puckered her mouth as she turned to see Jesse’s head poking in.
    “Minister’s here. Is the bride willing?”
    Both brothers looked back at Rose, and she waved a hand in a derisive gesture.
    “As willing as any,” Lyle said, a dimple popped in his cheek. Jesse had one to mirror his brother.
    The sight was so charming, Rose rolled her eyes.
    *
    A few minutes later, the ceremony started. Rose stood shoulder to shoulder with her brand new fiancé and felt no need to slump to hide her height. Lyle was almost a head taller, a rare but welcome occurrence. She was used to manipulating her height to seem petite against smaller men.
    She wore her green dress and left her hair unbound, a red wave washing down her back.
    The minister didn’t seem surprised by her simple toilet. “Ready?” He eyed Rose frankly, until Lyle half stepped in front of her.
    “Is this Rosie May?” the chaplain asked of him.
    Rose let a smile curve her lips, more derision than joy.
    “It is, isn’t it,” the man exclaimed. “You’re to marry her? Is she with child?”
    “We’ll double your fee if you keep to the ceremony,” Jesse broke in, noting his brother’s rising temper.
    After those magic words, the man took out his bible and began without hesitation.
    Rose stood rigid, waiting for the next slight. She almost jumped when Lyle’s hand touched hers, clasping it.
    It felt nice, too nice. Rose resisted dragging it away. For Mary, she reminded herself. Lyle had no interest in touching her otherwise, no matter how much her body seemed to enjoy his.
    By the end of the ceremony, her mouth was dry, and she was almost swaying with fatigue and the strain of the day. She whispered the words, hoping the men would take her quiet for timidity, but Lyle put his arm around her, supporting her weight. It seemed she couldn’t fool the groom.
    When the minister spoke the last words, Lyle gave her a squeeze and touched her face lightly, turning her lips to his for a brief kiss.
    Jesse whooped, and stepped in, clapping Lyle on the back, and then leaning in to give Rose a quick kiss on the cheek.
    “Welcome to the family,” he winked at her, “Mrs. Wilder.”
    As the younger Wilder went on to finish the dealings with the minister, Rose turned to Lyle with a dazed expression.
    “Are you all right?” he asked.
    “I’ve never had a last name. Mary gave up our father’s as soon as we left him, and I haven’t had one since.”
    Lyle gave her another one of his tender looks. “I’m honored to share mine with you.” He raised her hand and kissed it. For a moment her heart fluttered, and she pretended the kiss was for her, the kiss of a lover, and not a man with an obligation.
    *
    The newlyweds rode out the next morning, meeting Jesse at his camp outside of town and heading southwest towards Lyle’s homestead and away from Doyle’s reach. Lyle kept his stallion close to Rose while his brother scouted ahead, circling back for meals and water.
    She didn’t feel married. Sometimes she enjoyed Lyle playing the doting husband, keeping a close escort, giving her the best of the meat and first pull on the water bottle, making light conversation during the journey when a rock or an eagle or a stream of note came into view. But sometimes she found his attention annoying.
    The night before, after the ceremony, food had come and the three Wilders all dined together, Rose practically falling asleep in her stew. In the end, Lyle carried her to bed and tucked her in.
    “Good luck, brother,” she heard Jesse say, before Lyle pushed him out the door. Half-asleep, she waited