"I'm married," she blurted. "I married Billy Coburn this morning."

Summer waited for the explosion she was sure was coming. Instead of raging, her mother threw back her head and laughed.

"This is rich. This is perfect. Your father will throw forty fits. His darling daughter married to a saddle tramp without a penny. Even better, your father's very own b.a.s.t.a.r.d son. Oh, I love it!" And she sailed off into another fit of laughter.

Summer hadn't thought she could feel any worse. But her mother's laughter made something precious curl up inside her and die. She couldn't even defend herself by saying she loved Billy. And she didn't dare explain the real reason she'd married him. She couldn't take the chance that her mother would do something vindictive to punish Billy for spoiling her plans.

"What does your father say about this?" her mother asked.

"He doesn't know yet."

"I want to be a fly on the wall when you tell him," she said.

"I'm leaving now, Momma. Billy's waiting for me outside."

"I'll just come along and congratulate your new husband."

"Please don't, Momma," Summer said, cringing at the spite she heard in her mother's voice. "There's no need-"

"Let's go, Summer," her mother said.

Summer brushed past her mother and headed down the stairs, walking as fast as she could without running, trying to put distance between them so she could give Billy some warning that her mother was right behind her.

"I can't imagine what you were thinking, Summer," her mother said from behind her. "I thought you had more pride than this. Are you pregnant?"

Summer stopped abruptly in the middle of the kitchen and turned to stare at her mother, her mouth gaping. "Of course not!"

"Then why have you done this?" her mother said, her eyes focused intently on Summer's face.

Summer felt like an ant under a magnifying gla.s.s, the kind cruel little boys held, focusing the fierce rays of the sun so that eventually the ant burned to cinders. She didn't want to tell the truth. And she couldn't think of a good enough lie to fool her mother. So she stood there, staring back helplessly. She never felt like this with her father. She could face him toe-to-toe and fight.

But her mother reduced her to this quivering, sniveling creature without any backbone. Her throat had closed so tight it was threatening to choke her.

"Well?" her mother demanded. "Cat got your tongue?"

Summer couldn't have said a word to save her life.

"What the h.e.l.l is going on here?" a voice bellowed from the kitchen doorway.

Summer dropped her bags, turned, and ran toward her father, wrapping her arms around him as she careened into him. "Daddy," she sobbed, pressing her cheek against his chest. "Oh, Daddy."

He'd always been her refuge in a storm. Suddenly, she noticed that his body was stiff, and his arms had not closed around her.

She lifted her head and looked up into his face. And saw that he knew what she'd done. And disapproved. His gray eyes were as cold and remote as she'd ever seen them. She looked past his shoulder and saw Billy standing in the doorway behind him, his face pale, his jaw taut.

She took a step back and let her hands drop to her sides.

"Is it true?" her father said.

She focused on Billy's face and tried to divine what he was thinking, but his dark eyes were shuttered. She realized her father was still waiting for an answer-and that she'd been waiting for Billy to provide it. After all, he'd said he would be there to support her.

Well, he was here. But obviously, he expected her to stand up to her father. She didn't want Billy to find her wanting so soon in their marriage. If he expected her to be strong, she'd be strong.

She squared her shoulders and said, "Billy and I are married, if that's what you're asking."

"G.o.ddammit to h.e.l.l! Have you got maggots in your brain, girl?" her father yelled.

For an instant, Summer thought he might hit her, even though he'd never raised a hand to her in her life. A second later, Billy was standing beside her, his arm around her waist, and the two of them were facing her father together.

She could feel the tension radiating off Billy. His hand was squeezing her waist so tightly it hurt. "Summer and I don't need your permission-or your approval-to marry," he said. "Now get out of our way."

"Billy, I need my bags," Summer reminded him.

He made an irritated sound in his throat but let go of her and turned to pick up her bags. And found himself confronting her mother.

He touched the brim of his hat and said, "Ma'am."

"You're a fool, Billy Coburn," she said. "Like your mother before you."

Summer saw the flush stain Billy's cheeks. She grabbed his arm and tried to pull him toward the door, only to find her father had taken a step closer, blocking their exit.

"Come on, Billy," she begged. "Forget my things. I don't need them."

Billy leaned over and picked up her bags. "We'll be leaving now, ma'am," he said to her mother. He turned and found Blackjack blocking the way. "Step aside," he said.

"Summer's not going anywhere," her father said.

Her mother clapped. "Bravo. Wonderful performance, Jackson. May I ask to what I owe the pleasure of your return so soon, and in such a timely fashion? Did the widow throw you out?"

"This is still my house, Eve. I'll come and go as I please."

"Over my dead body."

"Like I've said before, that can be arranged," her father taunted.

Summer blanched. She and Billy stood between her parents, who stabbed at each other with barbed words.

"Momma, Daddy, please. Not now."

"Why not now?" her mother said. "Your husband might as well know what kind of family he's married into."

"Go upstairs, Summer," her father said. "Where you belong. You can leave, Coburn."

"I'm leaving, all right," Billy said in a steely voice. "And my wife is coming with me."

He took a step forward, his shoulder shoving hard against Blackjack's shoulder and knocking him aside. Summer held her breath, expecting her father to attack Billy as they took the last few steps to the screen door.

"Are you going to let him get away with that, Jackson?" her mother gibed.

Summer realized her father was distracted from confronting Billy by the necessity of making some sort of retort to her mother, like two wolves that attack one another, determined not to share the kill. She heard them snarling at each other as she and Billy shoved their way out the door.

Billy threw her bags into the back of the pickup and said, "Are you all right?"

"Fine," she said, hiding her shaking hands behind her back.

"Then let's get out of here."

She let herself into the pa.s.senger side of the cab and buckled her seat belt, which was a good thing, because Billy peeled rubber as he backed out and wheeled the pickup toward the front of the house. He was going dangerously fast as they pa.s.sed the line of stately magnolias that shaded the asphalt driveway. He accelerated to a pace that became dangerous when ten miles later they left the asphalt and hit the dirt roads that led toward Billy's ranch.

"Slow down," Summer said, both hands pressed against the dash in an effort to brace herself as the truck sailed high after hitting another pothole.

"Have the two of them always been like that?" Billy asked.

"Like what?"

Billy glanced at her but hit another pothole and had to put his eyes back on the road to keep the pickup from careening out of control. "Have they always been so spiteful toward one another?"

Summer felt defensive and said, "All parents argue."

"Your father threatened to kill your mother."

"They always talk like that," Summer said. "It's hyperbole."

Billy lifted an eyebrow.

"Exaggeration," she said, explaining the word.

"I know what hyperbole is."

Summer glanced sideways at Billy. She'd always known he was smart, but she'd a.s.sumed his vocabulary was limited because he'd barely made it through high school. She was going to have to be careful not to insult him that way again. Marriage was becoming a minefield, and she'd better tread more carefully.

"Thank you for standing up to my father," she said.

"You're my wife."

She grimaced. "In a fake marriage."

"There's nothing fake about our marriage," Billy said. "It's as real as it gets... at least for the next two years."

Except for the s.e.x, Summer wanted to say. But she didn't want to argue. She'd heard enough arguing to last her a lifetime. "I don't want us ever to argue like my parents," Summer said. "Promise me we'll talk things over quietly and reasonably."

"Fine by me," Billy said. "And since you want plain speaking, there are a few things we need to get straight before we get back to the C-Bar."

"I'm listening." Summer realized Billy had slowed the truck to a reasonable speed so he could hold her gaze.

"First, I'm going to need your help nursing my mother and baby-sitting Will."

"I've never done any nursing," she said. And then, since he was going to find out anyway, she admitted, "I don't know much about babies, either."

"You'll learn," Billy said.

Summer bit her lip, then said what she was thinking. "Your mother doesn't like me."

"No, she doesn't," Billy agreed. "The two of you will have to make peace."

"I'm willing. What if she's not?"

"I'll talk to her," Billy said.

Summer wasn't encouraged, but she said, "All right."

"There isn't much to learn when it comes to babies," Billy said. "Just keep them dry and feed them and love them."

"I guess I can do that," Summer said.

"Emma can keep up with the cooking and housekeeping, and I'll manage the ch.o.r.es around the ranch and see what other work I can get. My rent is paid till the end of the month in Amarillo, but I'll need to get up there one weekend to pack up Will's clothes and my stuff and move it all back here, if it turns out I've lost my job. Meanwhile, it'll be roundup time soon, and I expect I can get someone to take me on as hired help."

Summer brightened. "I could do that, too! I'm actually better at ranch work than-"

"I need you at the house," Billy interrupted. "Taking care of Mom and Will."

"But-"

Billy laid a hand on her thigh. The touch felt intimate even though a layer of denim separated his flesh from hers. "I need your help at home, Summer. I'm trusting you to take care of my mom and my son. Think you can handle it?"

"Sure, Billy. No problem."

Sure she could nurse a woman who hated her guts. And take care of a baby when she had no idea how to put on a diaper or what babies ate. And ignore his pregnant sister stalking around, cooking and cleaning and glaring at her, since she had no use for Blackthornes.

Summer inwardly shuddered. She felt like telling Billy to turn around and take her home. But the memory of her parents at each other's throats kept her mute.

Maybe, somehow, she could make friends with Billy's mother. And get along with his sister. And she would be more than willing to pour out all the love she had to give on Billy's son.

After all, the whole point of marrying Billy was to prove she wasn't as selfish as her mother. Or as ruthless as her father. She might not have any particular talents, but she was willing to work hard. And she never gave up without a fight.

Surely hard work and determination would be enough to see her through the first few difficult weeks of adjustment. And she wouldn't be doing it alone. Billy would be there beside her at night. They'd be able to talk things over, work things out.

As they drove up to the back door of the Coburn ranch house, Summer looked at the one-story frame structure with a critical eye. She'd never paid much attention to its rundown condition when she'd visited Billy before precisely because she'd only been visiting.

Now she noticed that the wood showed through in several places where the white paint had weathered away. The porch roof canted down on one side, and she remembered the middle step leading up to the back porch was broken. The screen was curled up on one corner of the kitchen door, letting in flies.

Billy pulled up to the back door, but didn't shut off the engine. Summer looked at him and smiled tentatively. "Nervous?" she asked.

"I'm not coming in," Billy replied.

Summer felt her heart begin to pound. "Where are you going?"

"I've got to go to the TSCRA headquarters in town to see if there's any chance I can keep my job. I want you to go on in and get settled."