HARRISON HYDE AND THE RUNAWAY BRIDE by Maggie Shayne
Copright MS Lewis, 2024
All rights reserved
CHAPTER 2
The place with the best tacos in Texas was a Cantina called Manuel’s. Harrison knew that because it was painted on a big wooden sign atop the brown adobe building. CANTINA MANUEL, it said in green lettering outlined in black.
They entered through batwing doors. The place wasn’t busy in the middle of a Saturday afternoon, but it was open. The inside was painted with green, white, and red, the familiar colors of the Mexican flag. A lone man sat at a table with a nearly empty bottle and a half-full glass in front of him. He was white, his bushy beard was blond, and he wore a sombrero and a woven poncho. He sat so low in his chair, Harrison wondered if he was going to slide onto the floor. He looked as if he was melting in extreme slow motion.
A middle-aged Mexican couple sat at another table eating quesadillas. Regulars, he’d bet. They were dressed down, comfortable, making themselves at home. The happiness between them was palpable in the way they smiled into each other’s eyes. Harrison watched them for a moment. Maybe that was what he wanted.
For some reason he looked at Maria then shook his head. Not here, and not her, but that kind of thing, like that couple had, and his mom and dad.
The fellow behind the counter had to be Manuel. “Hey, there, Maria Michele,” he said, not with the accent Harrison had expected. “I thought you were gettin’ hitched today.”
“Didn’t go to plan, Manny. Didn’t go to plan.” Maria leaned over the bar, her cowboy boots on tiptoe, accentuating the curve of her backside, and said, “What I need to heal my broken heart are your amazing tacos for two.” She glanced over her shoulder at Harrison and winked.
He flinched as if the wink had struck him physically. What did that mean? That wink? Did she think he’d been looking at her backside? He had been, but did she think it?
“Grab us a table,” she said. “I need the restroom.”
“Okay, sure.”
He found them a table and waited for her to come out of the restroom, feeling like a real jerk, because he was thinking about leaving her there. He wouldn’t ditch her without a word, of course, not after what she’d been through. He would just tell her flat-out that he had to continue this journey on his own. She could call someone to come and get her, or book a room for the night in the motel across the street. She’d be okay. She certainly seemed okay.
Actually, he kept wondering why she seemed so okay. Surely, most women who’d found out on their wedding day that their intended was a violent waste of oxygen would be devastated. Wouldn’t they?
He thought the question toward his mother and waited for his brain to process the data and spit out an answer. Instead, he heard her soft laughter. And then she said, In your experience, sweetheart… how long was I sick?
“About nine weeks,” he said under his breath. He knew precisely the amount of time from when his mother had taken to her bed, unable to get up, to when she’d passed.
Eighteen months floated through his mind. You only knew I was sick for those final nine weeks, when I couldn’t hide it anymore. Some of us don’t share our suffering.
“They say sharing it lightens the load.”
And I was going to lighten my load by shifting some of it onto my kids? Come on, Harrison. You know me better.
Manuel delivered a huge platter of tacos surrounded by sour cream and three bowls of salsa; green, yellow, and red. He set down a second platter full of celery, carrot sticks, and cherry tomatoes. “She okay?” he asked with a nod toward the restroom.
“Fine.” The answer was automatic, but the question made him wonder, and he looked that way, too. “Then again, I’ve only known her for an hour or so. You know her better. Do you think she’s okay?”
Manny shrugged. “She locked the door. There are four stalls. I’m thinkin’ she might not be okay.”
Hell. The concerned proprietor walked away. Harrison glanced toward the couple at the corner table, and the woman was looking his way. By the bend of her brows, he thought she was also concerned about the beautiful redhead in the restroom.
Okay, okay. He got up and went to the door, tapped gently. “Maria? Are you all right in there?”
“Why the heck wouldn’t I be?” The response came immediately, and he thought her voice was about an octave lower than the last time she’d spoken to him. He heard water running, and then she unlocked and opened the door. “Impatient much?” She didn’t meet his eyes. That didn’t stop him from noticing that they were red, puffy, and makeup-free.
Hell, she’d been in there crying, hadn’t she? She wasn’t fine at all.
Of course she’s not. This was supposed to be her wedding day.
His stomach growled. Maria sent him an amused look, and he wondered how she could be amused after probably sobbing her heart out alone for the last twenty minutes.
“Well, that explains why you’re so impatient,” she said. “You’re as hungry as I am. You get us a table?”
“Food’s already on it.” He led her to the table where the food waited, pulled her chair out for her, and wondered why he’d done that. He didn’t make a habit of pulling out chairs for women. It wasn’t common practice anymore.
Maria bent her eyebrows a little bit, but she sat down, and then he did. And then they started loading tacos onto their individual wooden plates. Some of her filling dropped into her lap. His gaze followed naturally, but he shifted it to her face again. Her eyes were red.
He couldn’t stand to see a woman cry.
Now he noticed that her hair was tamed down and braided all around on one side. It hung down across her shoulder, and copper curls were already springing free here and there. He reached for the yellow salsa bowl. She reached for the red one. “Red’s hotter than yella,” she said. “Yella’s hotter than green.”
Her accent made him smile. He liked listening to her talk. It was musical, the rhythm of her voice, the softening of tone that came with her subtle twang.
“You never told me why you’re running away. Seems like a big, supportive family back there, no? Or are they pressuring you to marry that guy?”
“Oh, heck no. None of ’em wanted me to marry that guy,” she said. “But I feel awful. They spent a buttload of money and time helping me plan a weddin’, even though they all thought it was a mistake. They let me decide. And I just…” She shook her head slow. “I’m embarrassed, I guess. Ashamed.”
“I think you should be proud. It took a lot of courage to walk away like that.”
“That’s kind of you to say.”
“Why do you think…” He wanted to flat out ask her if she’d been in love with the jerk, but didn’t know how to ask without making it sound like he was interested for personal reasons— which he was not.
“Why was I so determined to marry Billy Bob?” She finished his question for him. “I been askin’ myself the same thing. I just… I had a plan. I had a plan, and nothing was gon’ stop me once I got it underway. I was fixin’ to become a vet, work in my mom’s clinic, gradually take it over, buy that cute little house on Bluebonnet Lane, get married, have a couple of kids, and step into my place in the Brand family dynasty, fully integrated into the community of Quinn as the town veterinarian.”
“It’s a perfectly valid plan,” he said when she paused as if awaiting a reaction.
She shrugged. “I was so focused on the first part, getting my degree, I didn’t think much about the second. I didn’t date, like other gals. I worked my tail off to get through school, and all of a sudden, I was at the end, and I realized I hadn’t finished the plan. And time was short. The house I wanted came onto the market. But the husband part didn’t come so easily.”
“They don’t just appear out of nowhere, do they?” he asked.
“Not generally, no. But I was home from school, and Billy Bob was here to sell off his parents’ place when they passed. We’d gone to high school together, so I knew him. He was easy, interested, and comfortable. He seemed like the most efficient way to move ahead with the plan.”
“Not exactly a sweeping love story.”
She shrugged. “My family is full of sweeping love stories. But I don’t think they happen for everybody. I’m not sure I’m even capable of feelin’ that way for someone, and if I were, I’m not sure I’d want to.”
“I’ve thought that before, too. My parents had that great big kind of love. And then my mom died and left Dad just… bereft.”
She nodded. “I noticed her photo in the car. She looks like an angel.”
“Thank you.”
She slathered salsa onto her taco, topped it with a liberal squirt of hot sauce, picked it up, and took a huge bite, her eyes widening in direct proportion to her mouth. He’d taken a bite, too, tried not to laugh, and choked.
She dropped her taco onto her plate and came around the table behind him to pound his back three times, way harder than he expected. “You okay?”
“I’m good, ow, I’m good.” He wiped his mouth then sipped his water for good measure.
“Good?”
“I’m good.” He cleared his throat. “Thanks.”
“That’ll teach you to laugh at the way I eat.”
“You saw that?”
“I saw that.”
“It wasn’t ridicule. I thought it was cute.”
“That might be worse,” she said, returning to her seat. She dug into her food. After a few bites, she wiped her lips, took a drink of water, and said, “How about you? Now that you’re probably about to become rich off your invention, what’s next for you?”
“I haven’t got a clue,” he said. “What do you do after you’ve finished your life’s work? That was supposed to be the topic of contemplation on my long, solitary road trip.”
“Sorry,” she said, with a twinkle in her eye that said she wasn’t.
“Not your fault. I was driving myself crazy worrying about it, to be honest.”
“Well, what are the options for a guy in your situation?”
He finished the last bite he thought he could hold, and used the damp towels on the table to wipe his mouth. “I could consult for whatever company buys the rights, or I could teach at a university. I imagine myself living in the complementary mansion of an ivy league department head.”
“Sounds borin’.”
“Exactly.”
“You need to keep inventin’ things, that’s all.”
“That’s very wise,” he said.
She shrugged. “I bet most inventors take a break in between projects. Maybe think of this summer as your break time. It’s not your decidin’-the-rest-of-your-life time. Maybe it’s more of a settlin’-into-yourself time. You aren’t the same person you were before you finished what you call your life’s work. Also, maybe you should start thinkin’ of it as your first project.”
He stared at her, and maybe his mouth wasn’t quite closed. For just an instant, he heard his mother’s soft voice in his mind, laughter in her words. I like this girl!
He shook his head to clear it then took a drink of water to cover his momentary shock. “That’s good advice. Maybe I’ll do that. Take a break and… settle into myself.”
They ate for a while, and then he paused, and said, “I’d like to go on to Silver City without you.”
She stopped with her third taco in front of her lips and locked her big brown eyes onto his.
“This is a good place for you to find another option,” he said. “There’s a motel across the street. You’re only thirty miles from home. And you have your phone, right?”
Her paralysis ended. She set her taco down with care, chewed, swallowed, and took a drink of water. “You’re ditching me?”
She was angry. Maybe a little bit hurt, too, but mostly ticked off.
“It’s nothing personal, I just— the whole reason I drove instead of flying was to give myself time to—”
“I just got left at the altar, man.”
“Um, you did the leaving. But I need this time. Not the summer, just this week. I can’t stand being in limbo like this, not knowing, and then there’s my dad, and my sister Lily.” And my promise, he thought.
She frowned at him and tipped her head slowly to one side, and then, of all things, she reached across the table and covered his hand with hers. “Dang, Harry, you’re as messed up as I am, aren’t you?”
His smile was wide and involuntary, and he lowered his head to hide it. Nobody, he thought, was as messed up as she was. And then his smile died when a loud, male voice yelled.
“Hey! What the hail, Mister! Git yer hands off my woman!”
“Oh shoot,” Maria said, looking toward the entrance. “Billy Bob, what the hay are you doin’ here?
The guy, who was packing about thirty pounds of excess weight that might’ve all been muscle, strode across the room and Maria got up and faced him.
Harrison stood up, too, because the raging bull’s bloodshot eyes were focused on him. To his surprise, Maria stepped in front of him, right into Billy Bob’s path.
“Hey,” she said. “You leave him outta this. I hitched a ride with him, is all.”
“I’ll deal with you later,” he growled, and then he clasped her shoulder and shoved her sideways so hard she crashed into the table, tipped it over, and landed on the floor with the remaining tacos. The red salsa bowl broke in half. And for some, suicidal reason, Harrison grabbed the angry groom by the shirt and shoved him away from Maria. He was frankly surprised he’d managed to move the guy at all. Maybe he’d had one of those fight-or-flight adrenaline surges that enable mothers to lift cars off their babies.
In his peripheral, Harrison saw Manual leap the bar with a baseball bat in hand. Dead ahead, all he could see was Billy Bob’s fist.
The Texas Brand: Generations #1
Maria Michelle Brand Monroe
She’s a newly licensed vet, and will take over her mom’s clinic in their dusty, southwest Texas town. She’s getting married, too. Her perfectly planned-out life is finally underway!
Then, on the morning of her wedding, she learns something about her groom that hits her plans like a freight train.
Harrison Hyde
He’s a scientist whose life’s work is done… and he has no idea what comes next. His solitary drive across southwest Texas to a demonstration of his ultra-efficient solar tile will give him time to think about what he wants.
Whatever it is, it’ll be back east, where his family is, where he’d grown up, and where his mother is buried. A year ago, he’d promised his dying mom he would keep the family together. And it isn’t going well.
The Meet
When Harrison stops to stretch his legs on a trail, a redhead in a tattered wedding dress runs right into him, knocking him flat, and demanding a ride out of town.
Over the next 24 hours, Harrison is beaten up, his car is stolen, and his prototype with it. But Maria’s huge and thoroughly Texan family takes him in, determined to help.
Maria realizes in short order that the good ol’ boy she’d been about to marry was all wrong for her. She’s fallen hard for a handsome nerd who doesn’t even wear cowboy boots.
Harrison’s life and his promise are back east.
But his heart’s attached to a runaway bride in Quinn, Texas
Romance Small Town | Romance Contemporary [Oliver-Heber Books, On Sale: October 8, 2024, e-Book, ISBN: 9781648397240 / ]
New York Times and USA Today bestselling, RITA® Award winning Author Maggie Shayne published 62 novels and 22 novellas for five major publishers over the course of 22 years. She also spent a year writing top story arcs for CBS’s Guiding Light and As the World Turns and was offered the position of co-head writer of the former. An offer she tearfully (it was lots) turned down. It was scary, turning down an offer that big.
But in March 2014, she did something even scarier. She went indie. And it went so well that by July 2015 she incorporated her business, Thunderfoot Publishing Inc. She’s never enjoyed her job more. This new frontier of publishing is bringing Maggie success like she’s never seen before in two distinct areas of her work.
First, her contemporary western romances, The Texas Brands series and the Oklahoma All-Girl Brands. And secondly her beloved paranormals, including the Wings in the Night series, which has the distinction of being the second vampire romance novel series ever, launching just a year after Lori Herter’s Obsession series created a new genre.
Maggie is also an acclaimed thriller writer with her award winning Brown and de Luca novels, and many more. Maggie Shayne is extremely accessible to her readers, interacting with them daily, via her Facebook pages and twitter accounts.
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