The Best Bride Read online

  #1 New York Times bestselling author Susan Mallery brings you a reader-favorite tale of redemption, self-discovery and a love that conquers all.

  Elizabeth Abbot is finally pulling her life back together. She’s endured enough heartbreak at the hands of her deceitful ex-husband and is determined to provide a happy life for her daughter. That’s exactly why she should stay away from Travis Haynes, the sheriff of Glenwood, with his trademark Stetson and sexy smile.

  With all of her broken heart, Elizabeth longs to trust the legendary lawman, to let him past the walls she has built up so carefully. But will her shattered past forever hold her hostage, even from a love that could make her whole?

  Marriage on Demand

  Susan Mallery

  Contents

  Part One

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Part Two

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Part Three

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Epilogue

  Part One

  Chapter One

  The white T-bird fishtailed around the corner. It sprayed dirt and gravel up onto the left front of the patrol car parked on the side of the road.

  Sheriff Travis Haynes turned the key to start the engine, then flipped on the blue lights. As he pulled out onto the highway, he debated whether or not to use the siren, then decided against it. He was about to mess up someone’s long weekend by giving him a ticket; no point in adding insult to injury by using the siren. The good citizens of Glenwood had contributed enough money to buy a car equipped with a siren that could wake the dead. But that didn’t necessarily mean they wanted him to use it on them.

  He stepped on the gas until he was behind the white car, then checked his speed. He gave a low whistle and looked at the car ahead. He could see a mass of brown hair through the rear window, but little else. The lady was going somewhere in a hurry. He followed behind and waited.

  It took her another two minutes to notice him. She glanced in her mirror, saw the flashing lights, did a double take, then immediately put on her blinker and pulled to the side of the road. Travis slowed and parked behind her. He shut off the engine, reached for his Stetson and ticket book, then got out and walked leisurely toward the car. His cowboy boots crunched on the gravel. He noticed the California license plate tags were current.

  “Afternoon,” he said, when he walked up to the open window. He glanced down at the woman and got a brief impression of big brown eyes in a heart-shaped face. She looked a little pale under her tan. A lot of people were nervous when they were stopped by an officer. He gave her a friendly smile. “You were going pretty fast there.”

  “I—I know,” she said, softly, averting her gaze and staring out the front window. “I’m sorry.”

  She gripped the steering wheel tightly. He looked past her to the young girl in the passenger seat. The child looked more frightened than her mother. She clutched a worn brown teddy bear to her chest and stared at him with wide blue eyes. Her mouth trembled as if she were fighting tears. About five or six, he thought, giving her a quick wink.

  Travis returned his attention to the woman. She wore her hair pulled up in a ponytail on top of her head. The ends fell back almost to her shoulders. It was a warm September afternoon. She was dressed in a red tank top and white shorts. He tried not to notice her legs. “I’m going to need to see your driver’s license and registration, ma’am,” he said politely.

  “What? Oh, of course.”

  She bent over to grab her purse from the floor on the passenger’s side. He thought he heard a gasp, as if she were in pain, but before he could be sure, she fumbled with her wallet and pulled out the small identification. As she handed it to him, it slipped out of her fingers and fluttered toward the ground. He caught it before it touched the dirt.

  “I’m sorry,” she murmured. Her mouth pulled into a straight line and dark emotion flickered in her eyes.

  Immediately his instincts went on alert. Something wasn’t right. She was too scared or too upset for someone getting a ticket. He glanced down at the license. Elizabeth Abbott. Age twenty-eight. Five-six. The address listed her as living in Los Angeles.

  “You’re a long way from home,” he said, looking from her to the license and back.

  “We just moved here,” she said.

  He took the registration next and saw the car was in her name.

  “So what’s the story?” he asked, flipping open his ticket book.

  “Excuse me?”

  “Why were you speeding?”

  Her eyebrows drew together. “I don’t understand.”

  “You’re in Glenwood, ma’am, and we have a tradition here. If you can tell me a story I haven’t heard before, I have to let you go.”

  Her mouth curved up slightly. It made her look pretty. He had a feeling she would be hell on wheels if she let go enough to really smile. “You’re kidding?”

  “No, ma’am.” He adjusted his Stetson.

  “Have you ever let anyone go?”

  He thought for a minute, then grinned. “I stopped Miss Murietta several years ago. She was hurrying home to watch the last episode of Dallas on TV.”

  “And you let her off the hook?”

  He shrugged. “I hadn’t heard that excuse before. So what’s yours? I’ve been in the sheriff’s department almost twelve years, so it’ll have to be good.”

  Elizabeth Abbott stared up at him and started to laugh. She stopped suddenly, drew in a deep breath and seemed to fall toward the steering wheel. She caught herself and clutched her midsection.

  “Mommy?” The little girl beside her sounded frantic. “Mommy?”

  “I’m fine,” Elizabeth said, glancing at her.

  But Travis could see she wasn’t fine. He realized the look in her eyes wasn’t fear, it was pain. He saw it in the lines around her mouth and the way she paled even more under her tan.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked, stuffing his ticket book into his back pocket.

  “Nothing,” she said. “Just a stomachache. It won’t go away. I was going to a walk-in clinic to see if they could—” She gasped and nearly doubled over. The seat belt held her in place.

  Travis opened the car door and crouched beside her. “You pregnant?” he asked. He reached for her wrist and found her pulse. It was rapid. Her skin felt cold and clammy to the touch.

  “No, why?”

  “Miscarriage.”

  “I’m not pregnant.” She leaned her head back against the seat rest. “Give me
a minute. I’ll be fine.”

  Her daughter stared up at her. He could see the worry and the fear in her blue eyes and his heart went out to the little girl.

  “Mommy, don’t be sick.”

  “I’m fine.” She touched her child’s cheek.

  Travis leaned in and unlatched the seat belt.

  “What are you doing?” Elizabeth asked.

  “Taking you to the hospital.”

  “That’s not necessary. Really, I’ll just drive to the clinic and—” She drew in a deep breath and held it. Her eyes closed and her jaw tightened.

  “That’s it,” he said, reaching one arm under her legs, the other behind her back. Before she could protest, he slid her out and carried her toward his car.

  She clung to him and shivered. “I don’t mean to be any trouble.”

  “No trouble. Part of the job.”

  “You carry a lot of women in your line of work?”

  Her muscles felt tight and perspiration clung to her forehead and upper lip. She must be in a lot of pain, but she was trying to keep it all together. He winked. “It’s been a good week for me.”

  When they reached his car, Travis lowered her feet to the ground and opened the door to the back seat. He started to pick her up again, but she shook her head and bent over to slide in. He returned to the lady’s car and slipped into the driver’s seat. The little girl was hunched against the door, staring at him. Tears rolled down her face.

  “What’s your name, honey?” he asked softly.

  “Mandy.”

  “How old are you?”

  She hiccuped and clutched the bear to her chest. “Six.”

  “I’m going to take your mom to the hospital, and they’re going to make her feel better. I’d like you come with me. Okay?”

  She nodded slowly.

  He gave her his best smile, then collected Elizabeth’s purse. After shoving her keys, license and registration into his pocket, he unhooked Mandy’s seat belt and helped her out of the car. He rolled up the windows and locked the doors, then led her to the sheriff’s vehicle.

  Her tears stopped momentarily as she stared at the array of switches and listened to the crackling of the radio. “You ever been inside a patrol car before?” he asked.

  She shook her head.

  “You’ll like it. I promise.” That earned him a sniff. He settled her quickly beside him, then glanced back at Elizabeth. She lay across the seat, her knees pulled up to her chest, breathing rapidly.

  “How you doing?” he asked.

  “Hanging in there,” she said, her voice tight with strain.

  “I’m going to use the siren,” he said, starting the engine and switching it on. Instantly a piercing wail filled the car. Travis checked his mirror, then pulled out onto the road.

  Traffic was light and they were at the hospital in less than fifteen minutes. Two minutes after that, Elizabeth had been wheeled away on a gurney and he was filling out paperwork at the circular counter near the emergency entrance. Mandy stood beside him, crying.

  She didn’t make a sound, but he could swear he heard every one of those tears rolling down her cheeks. Her pain made it tough to concentrate. Poor kid. She was scared to death.

  He bent over and picked her up, setting her on the counter next to him. They were almost at eye level. A headband adorned with cartoon characters held her blond hair off her round face. The same collection of animals, in a rainbow of colors, covered her T-shirt. She wore denim shorts and scuffed sandals. Except for the tears, she looked like just any other six-year-old.

  “When did you and your mom move here?” he asked.

  She clutched the tattered teddy bear closer. “Yesterday,” she said, gulping for air.

  “Yesterday?” There went his hope they might have made friends in town. “Do you have any family here?”

  She shook her head and sniffed again.

  He reached over the counter to a box of tissues beside the phone. The receptionist was also a nurse, and she had disappeared into the room with Elizabeth. Mandy wiped her face and tried to blow her nose. It didn’t work. He took a couple of tissues and held them over her face.

  “Blow,” he ordered, wondering how many times he’d done this during summer T-ball practice. There were always a lot of tears as the kids skinned knees and elbows…and lost games.

  “Where’s your daddy?”

  Her blue eyes filled again. “He’s gone.”

  Gone meaning dead? Or divorced? “Where does he live now?” Travis asked.

  “I don’t know. He doesn’t see us anymore. Mommy said he had to go away because he’s big. She said he’s never coming b-back.” Her voice trembled.

  He gave her a reassuring smile. Big? That didn’t make any sense. Elizabeth Abbott must be divorced. He glanced down at the hospital forms. She had an insurance card in her wallet, so he copied that information. “Where do you live?” he asked, then realized that if they’d just moved here, Mandy wouldn’t know her address yet.

  “By the ducks.”

  “The duck pond?”

  She nodded vigorously, her tears momentarily forgotten. “It’s pretty. I have a big bed all to myself. Just like Mommy. And there’s little soaps in the bath.” She smiled. She had a dimple in each cheek and he could see she was going to grow up to be a heartbreaker.

  He pictured the buildings around the duck pond in the center of town and remembered there was a small motel on the corner. So much for having an address here.

  “What about your grandmother and grandfather? Do you know where they are?”

  “They live far away.”

  Before he could think of any more questions, the receptionist came bustling back into the room. “Appendix,” she said, pulling her stethoscope from around her neck and placing it in the right hip pocket of her nurse’s uniform. “Caught it in time.” She looked at Mandy. “Your mommy is going to have an operation. Do you know what that means?”

  Mandy looked scared again. “No.”

  “The doctor is going to make her sleep for a little bit while he makes her feel better. There’s an infection inside and he’s going to take it out. But she’ll be fine.”

  Mandy didn’t looked reassured. She bit her lower lip hard and tears filled her eyes. Travis felt like he’d taken a sucker punch to the gut. Apparently the kid didn’t know a soul in town, and if the grandparents weren’t local, finding them could take days. He didn’t even know if Abbott was Elizabeth’s maiden or married name.

  He held out his arm, offering Mandy a hug, but letting her decide. She threw herself against him with the desperation of a drowning man clutching a raft. Her slight body shook with the tremors of her sobs. She smelled of sun and grass and little girl. So damn small to be facing this alone.

  “Hush,” he murmured, stroking her hair. “I’m right here and everything’s going to be fine.”

  * * *

  It was nearly seven in the evening before Travis was able to take Mandy in to see her mother. The nurse had informed him children weren’t allowed on the ward, but he’d ignored her and marched past, carrying Mandy in his arms. He was the sheriff. What were they going to do? Arrest him?

  He should have gone off-duty at four-thirty, but he couldn’t leave the kid on her own, and he didn’t want to take her to the local child services office before she’d seen her mother. It didn’t much matter, he thought as he walked down the hospital hallway. He hadn’t made any plans for the weekend.

  Although Glenwood was far enough off the beaten track not to get much tourist trade even over Labor Day weekend, the last celebration of summer usually kept him and his deputies busy. There were fights at the park as too much beer was consumed, and the teenagers would get involved in illegal drag races down by the lake. Come Monday afternoon, the small jail would be filled with red-faced citizens who would work off their sentences doing community service.

  The last door at the end of the hallway stood partially open. Travis knocked once and entered. He’d already warned Mandy
that her mother would be hooked up to tubes, but it wasn’t as frightening as he’d feared. Elizabeth had an IV in each arm, but her color was good. Medium brown hair fanned out over the white pillow. The pale hospital gown set off her tan. For someone who had just had emergency surgery, she didn’t look half-bad. Hospital smells filled the room: antiseptic and pine-scented cleanser.

  “We can only stay a minute,” he reminded Mandy in a quiet voice.

  “I know. Is she sleeping?”

  “Not anymore,” came the groggy response. Elizabeth opened her eyes and looked at him. She blinked. “Do I know you?”

  “We haven’t been officially introduced,” he said, walking closer and setting Mandy on the ground. Before the little girl could jump onto the bed, he laid a hand on her shoulder. “Stand next to your mommy, but don’t bump against anything. I’m Travis Haynes. I stopped you for speeding.”

  “That’s right.” Elizabeth looked away from him and smiled at her daughter. He remembered when he’d stopped her he’d thought if she ever really smiled it would be a killer, and he’d been right. Even fresh from surgery, the lady was a looker.

  “Hi, sweets,” she said. “It’s good to see you.”

  “Oh, Mommy.” Mandy stood as close to the bed as she could without actually touching it. She clutched her bear to her with one hand and with the other stroked her mother’s arm. “The nurse said you had something bad inside, but it’s gone now.”

  “I feel much better.” Elizabeth touched Mandy’s hair and her face, then raised herself up on one elbow. She grimaced. Travis moved closer. She looked up at him. “I’m trying to get a hug here.”

  He picked up Mandy and held her close to her mother. They clung to each other for a second. He could see the fierceness of Elizabeth Abbott’s love for her child in the way she squeezed her eyes tight and he heard it in her murmured words of encouragement.

  “I’m fine,” she promised. “Everything is going to work out.”

  He set Mandy on the ground and pulled a chair close to the bed. He sat down and pulled Mandy onto his lap. If Elizabeth was surprised by his daughter’s acceptance of him, she didn’t show it. But in the past couple of hours, he and the little girl had become friends.

  Elizabeth settled back on the bed. She pushed a button and raised the head up until she was half reclining. “So you’re the sheriff.”