Wild Mustang. Jane Toombs

      “Hey, brat, we live next to glamorous Reno, don’t we?”

      Sage made a face at him. “Reno’s just a big town with a bunch of casinos. What’s glamorous about that? Lake Tahoe’s pretty, though. And close, so it wouldn’t take long to get there. It’s just up the mountain.”

      Laura, taking her cue from Shane, said, “I can’t afford to take any time away from my work, Sage. Camping it is.”

      Sighing, Sage said, “If I ever get married, I’m going to New Zealand on my honeymoon. Or maybe Australia.”

      “After you finish college and get a job,” Laura said, “you can go to those places by yourself without having to wait for a honeymoon.”

      Sage digested that for a moment before asking, “Know what I’m going to be?” Without waiting for an answer, she added, “A vet, an animal doctor. Grandfather says I got a way with animals.”

      Listening to Sage chatter distracted Laura enough so she wasn’t a complete basket case by the time they reached Reno. Since getting married was the farthest thing from her mind when she had packed to come to Nevada, she’d brought nothing really appropriate to get married in.

      She was wearing a cream-colored silk suit, the closest to white she had with her. Not that she wanted a wedding gown for the occasion—heavens, no—but for some reason she’d felt it was important to wear white.

      Shane had on what she thought of as a western outfit—black pants and a white shirt with a silver and turquoise bolo tie. And dress boots, in contrast to those he rode with. His long hair was tied back with a black thong adorned with a small beaded ornament she knew Sage had made for him.

      In that outfit, he was one of the most striking men Laura had ever seen. Not that his good looks made her any more eager to marry him.

      When they piled out near the building that housed the offices of the justice of the peace, Grandfather handed Shane a small box, which he offered to Laura. Inside were four white rosebuds worked into a small bouquet.

      Her throat tightened at this unexpected gesture of thoughtfulness, making it hard for her to thank him.

      “Four is the mystic number of our people,” Shane told her. “I figure we need all the luck we can get.”

      He was right, Laura thought, as she gently touched the rosebuds.

      “Besides, there are four of us,” Sage pointed out.

      Laura glanced at Sage. The girl knew the reason why she was here, why she was marrying a man she scarcely knew, why she was marrying at all when she’d never intended to. Seeing Sage all but bursting with enthusiasm and joy, though, made it easier for Laura to go on with what must be done.

      Once they were in the presence of the justice, Laura caught Grandfather’s gaze and he nodded slightly, his dark eyes telling her that, difficult as it might be, she was doing the right thing.

      Yes, she was. Or she wouldn’t be here. Clasping the rosebud bouquet in front of her, conscious of Shane close beside her, but unable to look at him, she stared straight ahead, willing the ceremony to be over quickly.

      When it came time for her to hold out her hand for the ring, the justice had to repeat his words before she understood. Laura had forgotten all about a ring. Shane, though, obviously hadn’t because, when she held out her left hand, he slid one onto her ring finger. Glancing down at the wide gold circlet with a center diamond and four small sapphires to either side, she fought back tears.

      How could Shane have known sapphires were her birthstone? When she remembered telling Sage her birthday was in September, she still felt all choked up. Obviously he’d asked his sister to find out for him.

      She looked up at him, and his lips brushed over hers, a gentle touch that didn’t alarm her. To be honest, she rather liked the brief contact.

      “That’s not how Hank kissed Paula when they got married,” Sage informed them as they were leaving. “He kissed her so long we all thought he wasn’t ever going to quit.”

      “I’m not Hank,” Shane muttered.

      “For which we offer thanks,” Grandfather added.

      When they were once again in the extended cab truck, Laura tried to decide what to say about the ring. Since it was a wedding ring, as opposed to an engagement ring, she wondered if she should give it back to Shane when they ended the marriage. Or would that be tacky?

      Finally she said softly, “The ring is beautiful. And so are the roses. Thank you.”

      He glanced at her, his eyes enigmatic. For a moment she couldn’t look away and, when he finally broke the contact by turning the key and starting the pickup, she found she’d been holding her breath.

      “I’m going to be like you,” Sage piped up from the back. “I’m going to keep my last name if I ever get married. I’m going to stay a Bearclaw forever and ever. Walker’s a pretty good name, though. I can see why you hung onto it.”

      Yes, she was still Laura Walker, even though she wore a ring that bound her by marriage to Shane Bearclaw. She ran a finger over the stones in the ring and sighed. He was more thoughtful than she’d supposed, this man who was and was not her husband.

      “To be a Walker among our people,” Grandfather said, “means a person who has a strong spirit within a strong body. A Walker is a special person, one who can see with the spirit what needs to be done and then has the strength to do it. You did well, Laura, to keep your name.”

      His words circled in her mind. Never before had she really thought about her name having any particular meaning. Though she wasn’t one of his people, she felt fortified by what he’d told her.

      If everything went as well as the ceremony, perhaps this wouldn’t be the ordeal she’d feared it might be. With this in mind, she began to relax. Tomorrow, she thought, I’ll get on with my work among the mustangs.

      The first clue Laura had that something was amiss was the number of cars parked near the ranch.

      “Damn,” Shane muttered. “You and your big mouth, sis.”

      “Whoa,” Sage said. “I didn’t know so many people were coming.”

      “So many people?” Shane repeated ominously. “So you knew something was up.”

      “Well, Donna’s mother thought you and Laura needed some kind of a wedding reception,” Sage admitted.

      “Lot of horses in the corral,” Grandfather observed as they pulled into the yard. “Some of ’em rode over.”

      “It’s all right,” Laura said, tamping down her rising apprehension at having to play a part in front of Shane’s friends. “I’m sure everyone is just being friendly.”

      “That better be what they have in mind,” Shane growled.

      What else could it be? Laura wondered.

      No sooner had they parked and climbed out of the truck than, amidst wild whoops, men swarmed from the barn. Three of them grabbed Laura. She heard Shane cursing behind her as they bore her off toward the corral. Fear sent bile into her throat. What was happening? She was too scared to struggle.