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Authors: Ginny Baird

The Calendar Brides (27 page)

BOOK: The Calendar Brides
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Then one of his feet spilled off the bedroll too.

“We’ve got to keep him in place somehow,” Connie called through the rain that by now was drenching their clothing.

Linda adjusted her cap and scanned the area. Quickly, she took up the rope that had fallen out of the trees.

“You want us to rope him?” Connie asked in shock.

“Just temporarily.”

Connie watched Linda take charge employing some sort of skill she’d supposedly learned in Girl Scouting. Although Linda’s time in the Scouts had been limited to one year in the second grade, and Connie didn’t believe Brownies were primed in tying people up.

“Why don’t you just pop an apple in his mouth and be done with it?”

“Stop it.” She finished her work, securing his wrists and ankles together, and somehow linking both ends before tying him to the bedroll. Linda turned expectant eyes on her sister. “Well? Are you going to help me, or aren’t you?”

“Yeah, sure.” Connie bent toward the man, hoping to goodness he wouldn’t remember this. This was the kinkiest thing she’d ever done. Even if it was for the right reasons. As she positioned herself near the top of the bedroll, Connie raised an eyebrow at her sister. “Where did you
really
learn that thing with the ropes? Did Beau teach you?”

“You, sister, have an all-too-vivid imagination,” she said as they heaved the bedroll forward.

 

Connie and Linda sat beside the prone man in the cramped space of the tent while rain pitter-pattered above. He just lay there snoozing, looking none too worse for the wear, considering the beating he’d taken. He stood about six feet tall and was fairly broad at the shoulders, well built with a solid chest. He was obviously athletic and kept himself in shape, most likely by doing rugged outdoor stuff like mountain climbing. Although considering he couldn’t even climb a tree without falling, maybe scaling mountains wasn’t such a good idea.

Connie glanced at her sister, who was neatly coiling the rope. They’d found a battery-powered lantern with his gear, and it now illuminated the small area. “What are we going to do with him?”

“Get him to help, if we can.”

“How can we help him when we don’t even know where we are?”

“Good point.”

Connie studied his chiseled face in the lantern’s glow, wondering how he’d look without the beard. Not that it didn’t suit him. It most certainly did, giving him the air of a man of the wild. Someone who was confident—and comfortable—with nature. She fought an urge to reach out and stroke his cheek, just to see how it felt. She’d never dated anyone with facial hair.

“Connie,” Linda cautioned. “What are you doing?”

She looked down with a start to see she’d very nearly touched him. “I, uh…” She drew her fist to her mouth, faking a cough. “Was just warming my fingers by the lantern.”

Linda gave her a suspicious look. “Sure you were.” She surveyed his face, addressing her sister. “He
is
pretty cute. You’ve got to admit it.”

“Yes. If only he weren’t”—Connie lowered her voice—“suicidal.”

“So maybe he was down on his luck?”

“That’s a pretty drastic way out. And you know it.”

A devious smile spread across Linda’s lips. “I wonder if he’d consider coming to Napa?”


What?

“I mean, just for a rest. You know, to recoup from his”—she eyed the coil of rope nearby—“dreadful ordeal.”

“Are you out of your mind? We can’t take a strange man back to Napa.”

“He’d couldn’t be any stranger than Walt. Or…? What was the name of the guy before?

“Jake.”

“That one was a nutcase. Whoohoo. Real Looney Tunes.”

Connie heaved a breath. “We don’t even know who this guy is.”

“Maybe we should check his pants? Look for ID?”

Both girls eagerly sprang forward.

“I’ll check,” Linda said, kneeling beside him and angling her hand over his jeans.

“You’re married!” Connie elbowed in. “Let me do it.”

Linda lifted an eyebrow and sat back on her haunches. “Well, go on. Don’t be shy about it,” she said as Connie wiggled her fingers into the man’s right front pocket. “Go for the gold.”

“Stop it. I think I just found a”—she extracted a thin leather billfold—“wallet.”

Linda snatched it away.
 

“Hey!”

Before she could stop her, Linda was scanning through a row of credit cards. “Aha!” she said, withdrawing a driver’s license. “We have before us one Adam McCormack, but apparently,” she said, flipping through an assortment of billfold photos, “he goes by Mac.”

“How do you know that?”

“It’s who all these women have autographed their photos to.”

Connie twisted her lips, thinking it was no wonder. When this guy was in his right mind, he was probably quite a catch.

“Well, well…” Linda baited. “Will you look at
her
. And what a cutie too. I’ll bet this one was his favorite,” she said, thumping her finger against one picture in particular.

Connie raised her brow, and Linda turned the billfold in her direction. The worn color photo was of the most adorable yellow lab and a little boy, roughly ten years old. “Aw. Do you think that’s him? I mean, Mac? As a kid?”

“I’m guessing, yeah.” Linda closed the wallet and handed it to Connie. “Kind of sentimental. Keeping a photo of his first dog. Don’t you think?”

Connie’s heart softened, thinking this man couldn’t be all bad. Life must have been awfully hard on him to push him so far over the edge.

Mac’s eyelids fluttered, and she shoved the wallet back in his pocket. He reached up and grabbed her wrist before she could withdraw her hand.

“Well, hey,” he said groggily.

Connie felt her face flame “Um. Hello,” she offered weakly. “I was just checking your…credentials.”

“That makes sense.” He smiled warmly. “Wouldn’t want to tag the wrong body.”

She felt herself flush brighter. “No.”

She tried to pull her arm away, but he held her fast with a quizzical look. “Am I dead yet?”

“Of course no—”

“Yes!” Linda yelped with enthusiasm.

Mac raised his head to peer at her.

Connie set her jaw and glanced at Linda before shooting Mac an apologetic look. “Will you excuse us one second?”

She motioned her sister to the far side of the tent, then hissed in a whisper, “Just what do you think you’re doing?”

“What? Dead could work.” Her cheeks took on a rosy glow. “We could tell him Napa is heaven.”

Connie gasped. “I can’t believe you said that.”

“It’s just a little lie.”

“You really have flipped your lid.”

“Think about it, Connie. He could come home with us, be there for Grandpa’s birthday.”

“As what?”

“Your betrothed, of course. That way, you wouldn’t have to ruin the party with your news. We could play this little game to get you through it, then—”

“Absolutely not. You’re talking crazy.”

“We could get him help,” her sister tempted. “Secure the best psychiatric care money can buy.”

She fumed at Linda’s ludicrous suggestion. “And here stands the woman, who—not hours ago—was telling me that now’s the time to fess up. Come clean with the whole family.”

She pinned Linda in place with her stare. After a prolonged beat, Linda dropped her eyes, awash with shame. “You’re right. It was a stupid idea. I never should have mentioned it.”

 

Mac shook his head, trying to clear it. It still hurt quite a bit and his body ached all over, but he was built tough and would soon get over it. He’d had the wind knocked out of him before and had always recovered. What he didn’t get was why his wrists felt raw. He massaged them, studying them curiously.
Wait a minute. Is that rope burn?

Mac raised his brow at the women whispering on the far side of the tent. They both turned to look at him. “You’re sitting up!” the one in the baseball cap said.

But it was the other girl with the short blonde hair who held his attention. He chuckled to himself, thinking he’d envisioned her as an angel when he was still coming to. Of course, that halo must have been the campfire’s glow illuminating her from behind. And then when he’d nearly caught her feeling him up, it was all he could do to keep a straight face. Going for his credentials, right. She’d blushed so brightly when he caught her with her hand down his pants, he couldn’t help making that joke about being dead. For some weird reason, though, the girls didn’t seem to find it funny at all. In fact, he had the notion they’d taken him seriously.

When the women scooted toward him, Mac decided maybe he should have taken himself seriously too. For when he looked in his angel’s eyes, it was like he’d died and gone to heaven. They were pale blue like the sky on a springtime day, and her lips were full and kissable. Man, she was a knockout with those nice long legs and that lean athletic body. He wondered briefly if she was as outdoorsy as he was. Then she drew closer and he caught a whiff of her perfume, deciding
nope
. No wilderness girl went out in nature sweetening themselves up for insects that way.

“How are you feeling?” she asked, lifting her brow in concern. The other woman’s face also looked worried.

“Better. But I don’t think I should stand yet. Best to give it a little time.”

“Uh-huh,” both girls agreed.

The shorter one adjusted her baseball cap, and Mac noted she was wearing a wedding band set next to an enormous rock of an engagement ring. His gaze casually panned down his angel’s arm to her delicately manicured fingertips, noting one of her nails had broken. Definitely not a nature girl,
and definitely not married
, Mac mused to himself, thinking he’d picked just right. Mac drew a breath, scarcely believing himself. What was he doing, thinking of choosing and looking for wedding bands? He must have taken a much harder knock to his noggin than he’d imagined. He coughed and pointed to his water across the way.

“Do you think you could hand me that canteen over there?”

The smaller girl reached for it while the other one just sat there, staring in his eyes. Mac wondered if she’d noticed him checking for a ring and felt his face warm beneath his beard. He had to get a grip. He didn’t even know her name.

“My name’s Connie,” she said, smiling sweetly. “I’m the one you nearly fell on back there.”

“Fell on? I’m so sor—”

“And
I’m
the one who saved her,” the other one proclaimed, butting in as she passed him the canteen. “I’m Linda.”

“Nice to meet you both. I’m Mac.”

“We know,” they parroted together.

Mac raised an eyebrow. “Are you two twins or something?”

“Sisters,” Connie said.

“She’s older,” Linda added.

“I see.” He studied them both, attempting to devote equal attention to each, but it was tough to pull his gaze away from pretty Connie. “Just what were you girls doing out here anyway? It’s not really safe to be wandering around at night.”

“Don’t we know it!” Linda said.

“We went hiking.” Connie shrugged. “But we got lost.”

Linda explained further. “We ran for shelter during the storm and got off the trail.”

“Never a good thing to do,” he told them. “Stray off the trail, particularly when you’re not used to being outdoors.”

Connie set her hand on her hip and flipped her hair to the side. “What makes you think we’re not used to being outdoors?”

He glanced at her chipped fingernail, then once more met her eyes. “Wild guess.”

“Huh!” she said, acting slightly indignant.

“He’s right, Connie,” Linda said. She turned her gaze on Mac’s. “The truth is we’ve never gone hiking before. It was kind of my idea, a girls’ getaway to help Connie forget—”

 

Connie reached out a hand to cover her sister’s blabbermouth. What
was
it about Linda sometimes? The girl couldn’t keep herself from talking! Connie didn’t know why she particularly cared if Mac knew she’d come up here on the run from heartache, but she did. Besides, it wasn’t her sister’s business sharing the news. “She means we came up here to escape the city. Forget about those everyday pressures. Unwind in the fresh air, you know? Only we didn’t expect the air to turn windy or rainy…or for it to get dark. Um. Yeah. That.”
 

Mac studied her in a curious way, and she dropped her hand away from Linda’s pursed lips. There was an awkward beat during which Connie felt her skin warm from her head down to her toes. His eyes were hazel, a heady mixture of green and brown, changing subtly in the dim light. He was one fine specimen of a man, if she’d ever seen one. A real he-man, with that well-trimmed beard and mustache that made him look like a Scottish lord or highland mountaineer. Connie envisioned him wearing a kilt and sweeping her into his arms. He was clearly strong enough to do it.

He gave her a tilted smile, and her pulse fluttered. “In that case, it’s a good thing we all ran into each other.”

“Uh-huh,” Connie answered weakly.

BOOK: The Calendar Brides
2.94Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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