Marry in Haste... (8 page)

He smiled. “Don't thank me until you see what we find for you.”

After they walked along the stream for a short while, they returned to the horses and mounted up. The ride back was easier, not as tense—as if they'd come to an understanding.

When they arrived at the barn, there was a message for Reed to call Zane. Mallory said, “Go ahead. I'll walk the horses.”

Reed hesitated only a moment, then went inside.

Using the phone by the tack room, Reed watched Mallory through the open barn door. Damn, if she didn't look just as good on a horse as on the ground. Riding behind her had brought back all the sensations of last night. That bit of a bathing suit she'd worn in the lake had made him crazy, and he'd had to remind himself he was the one who'd suggested the swim. Then when he'd gotten her close, held her against
him, all he could think about was the satisfaction that he knew would be good. When she kissed him back as if she wanted it, too—

He thought about Stephanie and his engagement to her. Stephanie had never aroused him the way Mallory did. All Mallory had to do was smile, walk across a room, brush her hair back, and he wanted her more than he had ever wanted any other woman. It didn't make sense to him. He'd planned a life with Stephanie. He'd felt deeply committed to her. But now, it was as if Mallory was the only woman who mattered.

The sound of Zane's voice jolted Reed back to the present. After listening to his cousin's plans, Reed told Zane he'd get back to him. Then he left the barn, jogged over to Mallory, and took Spirit's reins from her hand. “Zane wants us to go out with him and Gwen tomorrow night.”

“Do you want to?” she asked.

If they did, he and Mallory would have to act like newlyweds for the evening. On the other hand, being cooped up in the cabin together wasn't much better. He shrugged. “You could see some of San Antonio if we do. We could go to a restaurant along the Riverwalk. On a Friday night, it will be lively.”

“I've been reading about the Riverwalk. I'd love to see it.”

So she'd realize what they were getting into, he warned, “We're going to have to pretend we're on our honeymoon.”

Her expression changed and she didn't look quite as enthusiastic. But then she said, “It'll be good practice. Lily told me they're having a barbecue on Sun
day and it sounds as if they've invited a lot of family.”

“I guess it will be our first Texas-style barbecue.”

When she smiled up at him, he was glad they were going to have at least this “first” together. “So we're on for tomorrow night?” he asked.

She nodded. “We're on.”

When she said it, there was a longing inside him for more than a Friday night date. Last night, Mallory had asked him tough questions about Stephanie. He was beginning to have lots of questions himself about his engagement, but he was afraid if he looked too closely at it, he might not like the answers. But whether he liked them or not, some answers might find him.

 

Colorful umbrellas and tables dotted the patio of the bistro along San Antonio's Paseo del Rio—the Riverwalk. Mallory tried to take it all in as she and Reed walked along a portion of the scenic three miles with its limestone bridges, bald Cypress-edged walk-ways, hotels, cafés, shops and restaurants. Reed was quiet tonight. They'd worked at being friendly the past two days. Last evening he'd taken her for a drive, and they'd had a late dinner along the way. Both yesterday afternoon and today, she'd gentled foals with Hank.

River barges cruised up and down the waterway and Mallory thought a ride on one of them would be a lot of fun. But as she and Reed approached a bistro, she spotted Gwen and Zane waiting for them. Zane motioned to them and after they all exchanged greetings. Reed held Mallory's chair for her and pushed
her in as she sat. After working in the corral this afternoon, she'd gone back to the cabin, showered, and changed into a colorful, flowered sundress in turquoise and yellow. Reed was wearing bush shorts and a cream polo shirt, and it was the first she'd seen him in anything other than jeans…or without clothes. Tonight, wearing moccasins without socks and without his Stetson, he looked casually sexy. Anytime she got within a foot of him her hair stood up on her neck and tingles ran through her body.

They'd kept up casual conversation in the truck on the way here as Reed pointed out landmarks, and she told him how much she enjoyed working with the foals. But now as he sat close beside her, his arm brushing hers, his thigh mere inches from her sundress, she wondered if playing newlyweds tonight would disturb him as much as it disturbed her.

Gwen and Zane sat close together, their shoulders comfortably brushing. After the waitress handed the four of them menus, Zane remarked, “The crawfish are great.”

“The salmon's delicious, too,” Gwen added.

They all ordered seafood, then Gwen smiled at Mallory. “So, how do you like San Antonio?”

“I haven't seen much of it yet, but I love the vibrancy and the mixture of cultures.”

“The weather's quite a change from San Francisco, I'd imagine,” Zane remarked.

Mallory nodded. “No fog.”

They all laughed. As Gwen snuggled closer to her husband, he draped his arm around her. “Zane told me you two met at the Golden Spur in Reno. Was it love at first sight?” she asked.

After a moment of tense silence when neither she nor Reed seemed to know what to say, Reed filled the gap. “The Golden Spur is a busy place. I offered to share my table with Mallory and she accepted.”

Zane's eyes narrowed. “And then?”

Mallory felt heat rushing to her cheeks and she cast a quick glance at Reed. “There's really not much to tell.”

Zane's gaze held questions. He exchanged a look with his wife, but before he could probe further, a waitress came to the table with a bottle of wine he had ordered. After he smelled the cork and tasted a few sips, he moved to pour some into Mallory's glass, but she quickly put her hand over it. “No, thanks, none for me. That's how I ended up…married,” she trailed off, sorry she'd said the thought aloud.

Zane's brows arched.

As Reed shifted in his seat, she looked over at him. He wore a scowl.

“Oh,” Zane joked. “Reed plied you with tequila until you said yes.”

“Um, not exactly,” Mallory responded.

“Maybe I should have tried tequila instead of champagne,” Reed said, his voice rough. “It doesn't have bubbles to go to your head.”

Sometimes Mallory got the feeling that her lack of memory about that night really bothered him. Because he'd gotten into this situation and now regretted it? Both Gwen and Zane were examining them closely.

“I don't handle champagne very well,” Mallory explained, wishing she could remember everything that had happened, especially their wedding.

“You know…” Zane poured wine for Gwen and
then for Reed. “It would probably be a good idea if you two took a few days for a honeymoon. I'm surprised you came back from Reno so soon.”

Mallory couldn't tell if he was fishing or just making conversation, but neither she nor Reed responded.

Gwen nudged her husband. “We can go dancing later. Or if you want to do something really romantic, we can take a ride on a river barge after dark. Even Zane and I haven't done that yet.”

Needing to change the direction of the conversation, Mallory said, “Tell me about your children. How old are they?”

As Gwen's attention easily turned to descriptions of her children, Reed's mind remained on Mallory. He wished he'd never ordered that bottle of champagne at the Golden Spur. Yet…

If he hadn't, he wouldn't be married to her, and for some reason that was becoming more and more important each day. It shouldn't be—because they had nowhere to go. She wanted to start a life here in San Antonio. He was going back to Australia. She was a virgin who wanted to have their marriage annulled and a city girl who probably wouldn't like her displacement on a ranch for long. Maybe she liked to ride and spend a little time around horses, but there was a lot more to it than that. Even more to the point—she wasn't the type of woman to follow a man around. If she hadn't been independent and on her own before, she intended to be now.

What rankled most was that she was locked into this marriage of convenience against her will. She hadn't chosen to be married to him. She hadn't chosen to live with him or spend time with him, and he'd
better well remember that fact. Just because the curve of her smile made his heart race and the brush of her skin against his aroused him was no reason to get involved. He'd keep her safe until Dawson returned and then any responsibility he felt would be over.

As her arm lightly brushed his elbow when she reached for her glass of water, he stiffened. Her gaze met his briefly. Zane asked her a question about San Francisco and she quickly turned her attention to his cousin. Reed picked up his glass of wine but then set it back down. He didn't want his inhibitions to be blunted in any way, shape, or form. Somehow he had to play the part of being a new groom without being affected by it.

Reaching down by the side of her chair, Gwen picked up a leather carrier. “Do you mind if we take some pictures?”

“She's become a real shutterbug since we got married,” Zane remarked with a patient smile.

“I just want to make sure we remember all our special moments.”

Her husband squeezed her hand.

Reed knew that, at one time, Zane had been a confirmed bachelor. He'd gone from one woman to the next enjoying himself, not knowing he was missing something. Watching Zane and Gwen together, Reed craved something he'd never had, an unshakable bond that time and circumstances couldn't break or end. But craving it and finding it were two different things. Zane was just damn lucky.

Holding her hand out, Mallory offered, “Let me take a picture of the two of you.” After Gwen showed her how to use the camera, she snapped two pictures.

But then Zane took the camera from her. “Okay, now it's your turn. Move closer to Reed.”

Without looking at him, Mallory inched her chair closer to his.

“Put your arm around her,” Zane teased.

Reed knew if he wasn't careful, Zane was going to guess this was a marriage in name only. Curving his arm around Mallory, Reed whispered in her ear, “Act natural.”

Her hair brushed his cheek as she relaxed into his arm but he could still feel the tension in her shoulders, the uneasiness of the two of them being this close.

“Reed, smile!” Gwen insisted.

He was having enough trouble controlling parts of his body other than his face, but he did as Gwen asked. Mallory's sundress lapped against his leg as she shifted. But if she was trying to make more room between them, she wasn't succeeding. Her breast pressed against his chest and he almost groaned. Her sweet smell loosened his inhibitions more than any wine ever could. Unable to resist, his arm surrounding her nudged her nearer.

“If we get any closer I'll be in your lap,” Mallory murmured.

“That could be almost as pleasurable as sharing a saddle,” he breathed against her cheek. He could feel her rapid breathing and his kept pace with hers.

It seemed to take forever for Zane to snap two photographs, and Reed couldn't help but wonder if his cousin was prolonging the process on purpose.

Conversation over dinner revolved around Ryan's barbecue on Sunday and the possibility that Clint Lockhart could be headed toward San Antonio. But
with dessert it shifted to what the couples were going to do next for the evening. Reed knew he'd only be putting himself through torture if they went to a club and he and Mallory danced. Instead he suggested walking along the shops and cafés and soaking in the atmosphere. But he should have known it wouldn't be that easy. With the full moon out and tiny white lights decorating all the trees along the river, Gwen suggested they take a ride on one of the barges. It was the longest forty minutes of his life as he kept Mallory close, pretending to be an attentive groom. Afterward as the women freshened up in public rest rooms, Zane sat beside Reed on a bench overlooking the river.

“Marriage changes a man,” Zane said conversationally.

Reed remained silent.

“You know, I paid Gwen to pretend to be my steady girlfriend when Lily's daughter Hannah and my good friend Parker got married. I was tired of my sister and sisters-in-law trying to matchmake. The problem was…the pretending became very real.” He glanced at Reed. “Do you have anything you want to tell me?”

“No.”

“Did you call your family yet?”

“I will this weekend.”

“One more question. Have you forgotten about Stephanie?”

Reed had to admit his thoughts didn't land on her frequently, and as he thought about going home again tonight and sleeping only ten feet away from Mallory, there was definitely only one woman on his mind.

And he didn't know what the hell to do about it.

A
fan hummed. Clint had been hearing that buzzing for a long time and, at first, thought it came with the dizziness. He'd awakened before, and someone had held a glass of water to his lips. One time it had been pitch-black, another— Hell, he hadn't been able to tell reality from nightmare. As he opened his eyes, he raised his hand to a cool cloth on his forehead and saw someone sitting on a chair beside the sofa. He went on guard immediately. Had they caught him? Where had they taken him? If he had to fight his way out….

He felt so damn weak.

Before he could raise himself up, he felt a slight hand on his shoulder. “Stay still,” a woman's soft voice said.

The overhead light in the trailer shone on her. As he looked her over, he knew he had nothing to fear from this slight thing. A good Texas wind could blow her into the next county. As he always did with women, he made a thorough examination of her in a few seconds—limp, light brown hair that had seen a peroxide bottle at some time, pure blue eyes that were older than the few lines on her face. She couldn't be much over forty and there wasn't enough weight on her to hardly make any curves.

He was good with women, always had been, always would be. He remembered the last woman. Rage roiled inside him still. If Sophia hadn't made him so damn mad and crossed him—

Catching the anger, he took a deep breath and tamped it down. Sophia was dead and gone. This woman was here and now, and he needed her help.

His leg still throbbed, and he saw that his pant leg had been cut away and the wound on his thigh bandaged. “What day is it?” he asked as his eyes scanned the run-down inside of the trailer with its battered and scraped metal cabinets, godawful orange-and-gold sofa, and two dinette chairs that looked as if they'd been stolen from the sixties. The stuffing was leaking out of their gray vinyl backs. But the place looked clean, and he thought he smelled something cooking.

“It's Friday. Around midnight.”

He'd lost two days! Still, he was alive and apparently getting better. Even though he hated the idea, he needed this woman—for lots of reasons. If he was going to win her over, he had to start now. Before he could, he heard a meow behind him.

“That's Fluffy,” the woman told him. “She's real friendly. You like cats? I've got three of them, or they got me.”

He hated cats. But this woman obviously took in strays and he might as well take advantage of that. “Sure. I like them just fine.” He tried to hike himself up against the arm of the couch but the cloth fell from his burning forehead and his head throbbed along with his leg.

“Jeez, I feel like sh—” He stopped abruptly.
“How did you get me in here? Last thing I remember I was standing outside.”

“I'm stronger than I look.”

Time to start getting under her skin. “I guess you are,” he said, and then gave her one of his best shy smiles. “What made you help a stranger?”

She shrugged. “You needed help and you still do. Your leg is infected. It was a bullet that did that, wasn't it?”

He could out-and-out lie and probably make it convincing, but sometimes half-truths were better than whole ones. If he won her over to his side, maybe he'd have the ace he needed. “Do you want the truth?”

She nodded.

“You might want to throw me out, or grab up your valuables and take off with your cats when I tell you.” He knew he had to look like hell but her gaze passed slowly over his red-brown hair, the planes of his face, his muscled body, as if he was the most handsome man on earth.

She shook her head. “I'm not going nowhere.”

Something had made this woman survive whatever type of life that had put those lines on her face and had pushed her to live out here in this rusty old trailer in poverty. He could use that strength and survival instinct to his benefit. “How did you know it was a bullet?”

“I've seen it before. My brother got in trouble with other kids—and with the law.”

He didn't care about her brother, but he wanted her sympathy and he bet he'd get it if he acted like he was interested. “Where's your brother now?”

“Don't know. Took off last time he was paroled. Haven't seen him in about three years.”

“That's rough,” Clint responded empathetically, if not sincerely. “Is he the only family you have?” He had to know if there was a chance her relatives would be in and out of this place.

“Yep. No one else.”

Clint smiled at her again. “No boyfriends?”

She blushed. “I don't have money for clothes and such that would get them to look at me.”

“A good man sees beneath the clothes.” It was easy to tell women what they wanted to hear.

Her cheeks grew even pinker. “You were going to tell me your story,” she said as if she was eager to hear it.

“First, tell me your name.”

“Betsy. Betsy Keene.”

Although his body felt as if it never wanted to move again, he stretched out his hand to her and took a gamble. “My name's Clint. Clint Lockhart.”

Surprise flashed in her eyes, but before she could pull away he said, “A rich man framed me for murder. He hates my guts and made sure they sent me to prison for life. But I'm no murderer, Betsy. Honest, I'm not.”

He slowly pulled away, then leaned back against the sofa arm, feeling weaker than he'd ever felt in his life and resenting it. He had to convince her to help him and wondered how much she'd heard or read. “What do you know about me?”

“Not much. Just what I heard at the diner where I work. They said you killed Sophia Fortune, then the judge sent you to prison. How did you get out?”

At least she wasn't running or calling the cops, and she looked more interested than afraid. “They were transferring me to another prison because of overcrowding,” he answered, watching her eyes. “The van was in an accident. I managed to get free, and took off. One of the guards shot at me and, well, here I am.” He looked at her through half-closed lashes. “I desperately need your help.”

After a moment's hesitation she said, “I took you in because you needed help, and I know how people get railroaded. My brother did.”

He covered her hand with his, though it took a determined effort. “Betsy, I swear I
was
railroaded. Do you believe me?”

After studying him for a few moments, she nodded.

Being handsome went a long way. “I can't go to a doctor,” he said, still gazing into her eyes as if she was the most beautiful woman on earth.

“I know. I cleaned your leg out as best I could while you were out.”

“I don't know how to thank you.” He kept his voice low and husky. Her hand was still under his and he gave it a tender squeeze, then let his thumb gently stroke her wrist as he pulled away. He could tell she was affected by it. Her eyes became all soft and she bit her lower lip.

“Will you help me, Betsy?”

She didn't take long to think about it, then she nodded again. Finally she motioned to the stove. “I brought home some bones from the diner to make broth. You gotta keep drinking. If we can break your fever, you'll be okay. But I don't know how soon it
will be till you can walk on that leg. Could be a couple weeks, even.”

The way the leg felt, the way
he
felt, he knew she could be right.

The effort of this conversation had cost him. His mouth was dry and he felt dizzy again.

She took the cloth from where it had fallen to his waist. “I'll make this cold again and get you something to eat, then you can rest. That's what you need, you know. Lots of rest.”

He needed a hell of a lot more than rest but, for now, rest and Betsy Keene would have to do.

 

As Reed rambled about the adobe late Sunday afternoon, he was amazed at how empty it felt without Mallory in it. Yet when she was here, she warily kept her distance and, he had to admit, so did he. This afternoon she'd told him she was going up to the “big house,” as she called it, to help Rosita and Lily get ready for the barbecue. Checking his watch, he realized he should head up there, but there was something else he had to do first. It would be almost 8:00 a.m. in Sydney.

He picked up the telephone and dialed his home. It rang about eight times, and he was almost ready to give up when he heard, “Crown Peak, Brody Fortune here.”

At age thirty, Brody was six years younger than Reed. He was a businessman through and through and handled all the financial aspects of the Crown Peak Ranch. When he came to Texas, he would be arranging the merger between his family's business and their uncle Ryan's company.

“Are you packed yet?” Reed asked, knowing his brother would recognize his voice.

“Packed? I'm not leaving for twelve days. How's it going over there, anyway?”

“Something's come up.”

“Like?” Brody prompted.

“I got married.”

Shocked silence met his announcement. “Did Stephanie join you there?” Brody asked, puzzled.

Reed closed his eyes for a moment, knowing his brother wasn't going to understand this because he didn't himself. “Stephanie broke off the engagement last week and I married someone else.” This silence went longer than Reed expected, and finally in frustration he asked, “Are Mom or Dad around?”

“No. No one is. Matilda wanted to go into Sydney and, of course, Griff wouldn't let her go alone. He'll make her behave whether she wants to or not,” Brody said absently. “He just came back from another one of his vanishing acts.”

“He's still coming to the U.S., isn't he?” Reed knew he couldn't distract his brother for long, but he could try.

“Yes, to keep an eye on all of us. You know Griff.”

Reed's mom and dad had adopted Griff. They'd found him sleeping under a bush on the ranch, filthy, his clothes ragged. He was around seven at the time. He'd been badly beaten and wouldn't speak. All of them had given him love and a place in their family, and he had no memory of what had happened to him and no knowledge of his previous life. But it had scarred him. He was a loner, yet his loyalty to his
family and his love for them was unquestionable and undeniable.

Brody went on. “And Mom and Dad and Max and Christopher went to look at horses. They won't be back until tomorrow. So that means I'm the only one you need to explain this to right now. Just who did you marry?”

“Her name's Mallory Prescott. Her half brother works for Ryan.”

“You couldn't wait till we arrived to get married? Maybe Mom and Dad would have even come.”

“It was an impulse.”

“You're adventurous, Reed. You're not impulsive. What's going on?”

Brody probably knew him better than anyone else. “I'll explain when you get here.”

“The reason you can't explain now is…”

“It's complicated.”

“I should have guessed,” Brody muttered. “As complicated as these missions Griff goes on that require secrecy. Do you think I'm going to be able to explain this to him and everyone else without them having scores of questions?”

“Just tell them you don't know the details…because you don't.”

There was a pause, then his brother asked, “So, what's she like, can you tell me that?”

“She's beautiful and sweet but so exasperating sometimes—” He stopped.

Brody laughed. “I hope that means she's a lot more spirited than Stephanie was.”

“Spirited is probably a good word to describe her.”

“Is she from Texas?”

“No, San Francisco. Why do you ask?”

“There's something about that soft Texas accent on a woman…”

“What do you know about Texas women? You've never been here.”

“I knew a woman from Texas when I was in college.”

Brody had gone to Winslow College outside of Sydney. “Was she an exchange student?”

“Yes, and since I'll be in Texas while I get this merger settled, I'd like to try to find her.”

Reed remembered a few months when Brody had been in college but hadn't been his usual steady self. He'd let his grades slide. He hadn't bothered to shave, and he'd moped around looking almost as lonely as Griff did sometimes, growling at anyone who talked to him. He wouldn't tell them what was wrong. But finally he'd snapped out of it. Could it have had something to do with this girl?

“I'll help you however I can,” Reed offered. “With Ryan's connections he can probably find her quickly, if that's what you want.”

“I'll figure out what I want when I get there. In the meantime, you know one of the family is going to call you and try to get more information than you gave me. Be prepared.”

Reed thought about his brother's words as he put on a fresh shirt and drove up to Lily and Ryan's. He always tried to be prepared when he was hiking through the desert or exploring Australia's rain forest. But since Mallory came into his life…

How could he be prepared to answer questions when he wasn't sure what was going on himself?

There were cars and trucks parked everywhere, from the stables to the garages as well as in front of the house. Rosita met Reed at the door. “Your wife is a good helper. I don't know what I would have done without her this afternoon.”

“How did she help?”

“A little of this, a little of that. She arranged roses for centerpieces, helped set up the buffet, decorated baskets to hold the
cascarónes.
”

“What are they?”

“A
cascarón
is a confetti-filled eggshell. You break it over the head of someone you love or care about to bring them good luck.”

“I'll remember that,” he said with a smile.

Going through the great room into the courtyard, Reed found Mallory in the thick of the activity. Early this morning the caterers had brought a smokehouse and set it up behind the garages. Now they were filling the buffet table with ribs and brisket and other dishes. Mallory stood talking with Ryan, Dallas and Cruz, laughing over something one of them had said. She'd obviously gone back to the cabin and changed before he'd returned from the barn because instead of shorts, she was wearing a white peasant blouse and a red-flowered skirt that practically dipped to her ankles. The lace edging skimmed her sandals. As always when he saw her, a rush of adrenaline surged through him. But he kept his expression neutral as he walked toward her, waving to a group of cowhands he knew, as well as noting couples and strangers who were Ryan and Lily's friends and neighbors.