Kyle moved from the window and accidentally bumped the ironing board. A few papers fluttered to the floor. He thumbed through them and froze.
A bank account statement. A statement for an account that contained one hundred and twenty-five thousand dollars. Celia’s bank account.
Celia had that much money?
Since when?
Had she been lying to him all along?
He flipped through the papers, stopping when he came across the information for veterinary trade school in Cheyenne. Test dates, registration criteria, and deadlines.
Had she meant to leave this out for him?
Kyle would find out the truth. But he’d have to find her first.
His phone rang at seven thirty in the morning just after he’d parked the tractor. And it wasn’t Celia. He barked, “What?”
“Come and get your wife.”
“Who is this?”
“Bernice. Celia’s been at the Beauty Barn since yesterday afternoon. I’ve got customers coming in and I’d really thought you wouldn’t be an idiot and let her sulk all freakin’ night.”
“I’m on my way.”
Chapter Twenty-three
The morning wasn’t as cold as it’d been earlier in the week. Celia wondered how Kyle was faring doing chores alone.
As much as she’d tossed and turned on the crappy cot last night, she hadn’t come up with a way to talk about the marriage issue. Or the nonmarriage issue.
She cleaned herself up and unlocked the back door for Bernice. She’d just finished her second cup of coffee when the back door slammed. “The coffee’s fresh if you want a cup.”
“Don’t mind if I do.”
Celia spun around. A very ragged-looking Kyle approached her wearing his pissed-off face.
She said the first thing that popped into her head. “A bit early for the full salon treatment, isn’t it?”
“Funny. Maybe I should ask if you get a special rate since you spent the night here?”
No snappy retort for that.
“Jesus, Celia. I was worried sick when I figured out you weren’t babysitting for either of your brothers.”
“You called them?”
“What the hell do you think? You didn’t answer your cell phone. I spent all night pacing, wondering if you’d gotten in an accident….”
She wanted to snap she hadn’t been thinking straight because she’d found out—oh, they weren’t f**king married—but she knew shutting off her phone had been childish. “I’m sorry you were worried. So they know?”
“That you lied to me and spent the night God-knows-where? Not exactly something I wanna share with anyone, let alone your brothers.”
Celia marched up to him. “You wanna talk lies? How about the lie that we were married?”
“We were married. The chapel in Vegas let their license expire, which neither of us could’ve known at the time.”
“So why didn’t you tell me? Why did you let me—us—continue to live together as husband and wife?” Everything they’d done, everything they’d been to each other, had been based on a lie. “You didn’t tell me because you needed me as your goddamn ranch hand. You needed me to help you through calving.”
“That’s really how little you think of me, Celia? I’m that shallow, heartless, and calculating?”
“You tell me. You’ve known about the bogus marriage for weeks. Yeah, I talked to the lady in Nevada too. I know the whole license/permit issue is completely out of the norm. But isn’t it ironic that you found out the truth before that first calf dropped?”
Kyle didn’t say anything.
And Celia was so worked up she feared she would say something she’d regret. She was afraid she’d revert to that little girl who goaded him. So she walked away from him, to the sitting area, where she’d left her purse. She turned on her cell phone and scrolled through the missed calls. Thirty-some calls from Kyle over the course of the last twelve hours.
Celia frowned at the number of missed calls from Tanna.
Kyle barreled around the corner. “Goddammit, Celia. We’re trying to talk about some of this stuff—”
She held up her hand. “Tanna has called me fourteen times in the last twenty minutes.”
“By all means, call her back right f**king now. I’d hate for her to miss your advice on her love life when our marriage is falling apart.”
“There is no marriage,” she snapped. “So don’t pull that I wanna talk about this now bullshit attitude on me when you should’ve talked to me weeks ago—Tanna? Hey. What’s going on?”
Tanna was close to hysterical.
Finally Celia calmed her down enough to decipher the phrase she kept repeating. She lowered herself onto the couch. “When?”
She vaguely heard Kyle ask, “What’s wrong?”
“Take a deep breath because I can’t understand you. Oh God. I’m so sorry.” She listened to Tanna falling apart and she tried to hold it together. “No, that’s okay. I’ll have it on me at all times. Yes. I promise.”
Celia dropped her phone to the carpet. She put her forehead on her knees, hoping to muffle her sobs. What horrible news.
Poor Tanna.
Celia felt Kyle’s hand rubbing her back, offering support, and that made her want to cry harder. “What’s going on?”
She sat up. “Tanna’s mom, Bonita, had a stroke.”
“Is she gonna be okay?”