Christine Rimmer - The Maverick Fakes A Bride!

Maureen scowled. She opened her mouth to speak again, but before she got a word out, her husband, Paddy, appeared in the archway that led to the kitchen.

“Travis. How you doin’?”

“Great, Paddy.” He popped to his feet, and he and Paddy shook hands. “Real good to see you.”

“Heard about you and that reality show.”

“Final audition is tonight.”

“Well, good luck to you, son.”

Maureen started to speak again, but Brenna’s arrival cut her off. “It’s show business, Dad,” she scolded with a playful smile. “In show business, you say ‘break a leg.’”

Travis tried not to stare as she came down the stairs wearing dark-wash jeans that hugged her strong legs and a sleeveless lace-trimmed purple top that clung to every curve. Damn, she was fine. Purple suede dress boots and a rhinestone-studded cowboy hat completed the perfect picture she made.

Again, Travis reminded himself that she was spunky little Brenna O’Reilly and this so-called relationship they were going to have when they got on the show was just that—all show. Brenna didn’t need to be messing with a troublesome cowboy like him.

And he knew very well that Maureen thought so, too.

Still, he could almost start having real ideas about Brenna and him and what they might get up to together pretending to be engaged during The Great Roundup.

Brenna kissed her mom on the cheek and then her dad, too. She handed Travis her rhinestone-trimmed jean jacket and he helped her into it.

They managed to get out the door and into the pickup without Maureen asking any more uncomfortable questions.

“It’s time,” she said in a low and angry tone as he turned off the dirt road from the ranch and onto the highway heading toward town. “Scratch that. It’s past time I got my own place.” Rentals in Rust Creek Falls were hard to come by. A lot of young women like Brenna lived with their parents until they got married or finally scraped together enough to buy something of their own. “Bee offered me her apartment over the beauty shop. She’s been living in Kalispell, anyway, with her new guy. So when we win The Great Roundup, I’m moving. I love my mom, but she’s driving me crazy.”

“When we win. That’s the spirit.” As for Maureen, he played the diplomat. “Your mom’s a wonderful woman.”

Brenna shook her head and stared out the window. He almost asked her exactly what Maureen might have said to upset her—but then again, it was probably about him and he wasn’t sure he wanted to know.

The rest of the ride passed in silence. Travis wanted to give Brenna a little more coaching on how to become a reality TV star, but the closer they got to town, the more withdrawn she seemed. He started to worry that something was really bothering her—something more than annoyance with her mom. And he had no idea what to say to ease whatever weighed on her mind.

The parking lot at the Ace was full. Music poured out of the ramshackle wooden building at the front of the lot. They were playing a fast one, something with a driving beat. Travis drove up and down the rows of parked vehicles, looking for a free space. Finally, in the last row at the very back of the lot, he found one.

He pulled in and turned off the engine. “You okay, Brenna?”

She aimed a blinding smile at him. “Great. Let’s get going.” Shoving open her door, she got out.

So he jumped out on his side and hustled around to her. He offered his hand. She gave him the strangest wild-eyed sort of look, but then she took it. Hers was ice-cold. He laced their fingers together and considered pulling her back, demanding to know if she was all right.

“Let’s do this.” She started walking, head high, that red hair shining down her back, rhinestones glittering on her hat, along the cuffs, hem and collar of her pretty denim jacket.

He fell in step with her, though he had a scary premonition they were headed straight for disaster. She seemed completely determined to go forward. He was afraid to slow her down, afraid that would finish her somehow, that calling a halt until she told him what was wrong would only make her turn and run. Their chance on The Great Roundup would be lost before they even got inside to try for it.

They went around to the front of the building and up the wooden steps. A couple of cowboys came out and held the door for them. Both men looked at Brenna with interest, and Travis felt a buzz of irritation under his skin. He gave them each a warning glare. The men tipped their hats and kept on walking.

Inside, it was loud and wall-to-wall with partiers. Travis had never seen the Ace this packed. He spotted a couple of cameramen filming the crowd. Over by the bar, he caught sight of old Wally Wilson, a fellow finalist who’d grown up on the Oklahoma prairie and ridden the rodeos all over the West. Wally was talking the ear off one of the bartenders. And another finalist, that platinum blonde rodeo star, Summer Knight, was surrounded by cowboys. He knew it was her by the shine of her almost-white hair and that sexy laugh of hers.

“Come on.” He pulled Brenna in closer so she could hear him. “We’ll find the casting director, Giselle. I’ll introduce you.”

She blinked and stared at him through those now-enormous eyes. What was going on with her?

She looked terrified and he had no idea what to do about it.

* * *

Brenna was terrified.

She was totally freaking out. Brenna never freaked out.

And that freaked her out even more.

She’d been so sure she knew how to handle herself. She did know how to handle herself. She was bold. Fearless. Nothing scared her. Ever.

Except this, the Ace packed to bursting, the music so loud. All these people pressing in around her, a casting director waiting to meet her.

And Travis.

Travis, who was counting on her to win them both a spot on The Great Roundup.

Dear Lord, she didn’t want to blow this. She would never forgive herself if she let Travis down.

“There’s Giselle.” Travis waved at a tall, model-skinny woman on the other side of the room. The woman lifted a hand and signaled them to join her. “This way.” His fingers still laced with hers, he started working his way through the crowd, leading her toward the tall woman with cheekbones so sharp they threatened to poke right through her skin.

“Wait.” Brenna dug in her boot heels.

He stopped and turned back to her, a worried frown between his eyebrows. “Bren?” He said her name softly, gently. He knew she was losing it. “What? Tell me.”

She blasted a smile at him and forced a brittle laugh. “Can you just give me a minute?” She tipped her head toward the hallway that led to the ladies’ room. “I’ll be right back.” She tugged free of his grip.

“Brenna—”

“I need to check my lip gloss.”

“But—”

“Right back.” She sent him a quick wave over her shoulder and made for the hallway, scattering Excuse mes as she went, weaving her way as fast as she could through the tight knots of people, ignoring anyone who spoke to her or glanced her way.

When she reached the hallway, she kept on going, her eyes on the glowing green exit sign down at the end. She got to the ladies’ room and she didn’t even slow down. She just kept right on walking down to the end of the hall.

And out the back door.

Chapter Three

The heavy door swung shut behind Brenna, and the racket from inside dimmed a little. She’d emerged into a loading area, with the packed dirt parking lot spread out beyond. Under the light of a few lamps on tall wooden poles, the rows of empty cars waited, not a soul in sight. Brenna shivered at the eeriness of it after the crush of people inside.

With no idea what to do next, she kept walking, her arms wrapped tightly around herself, her head tipped down, not knowing where she was going—until she ran right into someone coming the other way.