Marry in Haste... (9 page)

When Ryan saw Reed, he smiled broadly. “Mallory's been telling us about your evening in San Antonio. Maybe Lily and I will have to go with you the next time. It's been a long time since I saw the sights from one of those river barges.”

Reed moved close beside Mallory and circled her waist with his arm. She stood perfectly still.

Suddenly, Ryan clapped his hands loudly and called, “Everyone, can I have your attention, please? Please pick up a drink so you can join me in a toast.” A waitress brought a tray of champagne glasses and offered one to both Mallory and Reed. The others already had glasses in their hands.

Mallory picked up the glass with a quick look at Reed, and he knew she wasn't about to drink it.

Raising his glass, Ryan nodded to Reed and Mallory. “I'd like to present to you Mr. and Mrs. Reed Fortune, our most recent newlyweds. Reed and Mallory, these are our friends and neighbors, and we hope you get to know them all. But for now, I want to wish you a long, healthy and happy marriage filled with blessings too numerous to count.”

A couple of the cowhands let out whoops of agreement and everyone lifted their glasses, then took a sip, toasting the bride and groom.

There was no doubt that Mallory was embarrassed but Reed knew they had to play this out. Turning her toward him, he bent his head and kissed her. The instant their lips touched, the banked fire between them leaped high and bright. His tongue touched hers, and she responded with a low moan. He would have kept kissing her, but suddenly someone was beside him and he heard a noise above their heads. Breaking
the kiss, he felt something falling onto his hair and down his face.

Zane was grinning at them, holding colorful cracked eggs above their heads. The shells fell along with the confetti from their hair to their shoulders to the ground. “An old custom to wish you good luck,” Zane explained, his eyes twinkling.

Mallory murmured, “Thank you, Zane,” and brushed the confetti from her cheeks and her shoulders. Reed helped her, but when his fingers grazed the skin at her throat, he felt the tremor go through her and their gazes met. He saw the lingering effects from the kiss still in her eyes, and he wondered how long they could deny the fire between them without getting burned by it.

Rosita rang a small bell at one end of the table. “It's time to eat, and there's a lot here, so you better get started.”

The buffet line moved along quickly. With plates full, Reed guided Mallory toward a table where Cruz and Savannah, Mary Ellen and Sam Waterman sat. After introducing Mallory to Mary Ellen and Sam, the two women started chatting amicably. If Mallory had questions about Mary Ellen's relationship to her brother Clint, she didn't voice them. It was easy to see that Mary Ellen was loved by all the Fortunes, and she loved them.

Partway through the meal, musicians began playing. Cruz explained to Reed and Mallory that the music was Tejano, a rhythmic Tex-Mex, country-western style. The beat was lively and after finishing their meals, Cruz and Savannah, as well as Sam and Mary
Ellen, excused themselves to dance with other couples around the fountain.

There had been a long table specifically set up for all the children. Rosita and Gwen had manned it, but now the boys and girls ran and played in the midst of everyone else.

Reed watched Mallory as she seemed to be trying to absorb it all. “So what do you think of the Texas barbecue?” he asked her.

“I think it's wonderful. Ryan and Lily seem to embrace everyone they know and make them part of their family. I've never experienced anything like it.”

“I guess when you come from a large family like I do, you take it all for granted. I know I can depend on my brothers and Matilda no matter what, and they know they can depend on me.”

“You're very fortunate to be part of all this.”

“You're part of it now, too.” He meant as his wife, but knew she wouldn't accept that explanation. “Ryan and Lily treat Dawson as a son. You're going to be welcome here anytime.”

Before Mallory could respond, Hank came up to them and slapped Reed on the back. “Enjoying yourselves?” Hank had been a cowhand on the Double Crown since he'd landed here in his late twenties. He knew everything there was to know about the horses, cows, and the land, as well as the Fortune family.

“Great barbecue. I guess you've seen a lot of them,” Reed remarked.

“At least one every summer for more years than I want to count. Mallory, I was watching you today as you were helping Rosita. You fit in right well.” Hank
grinned at Reed. “You picked a great replacement filly and right quick, too. Must have been meant.”

The hurt look on Mallory's face stabbed Reed, but before he could try to smooth things over, she hopped up from the table, saying, “There's something I have to get inside.”

Tears pricked at Mallory's eyes as she weaved her way through the people in the courtyard, telling herself she shouldn't be upset, telling herself that Hank had only spoken the truth. After all, she and Reed only had a “pretend” marriage, so why should she care? But she did.

Once in the great room, she took a few deep breaths. The air-conditioning cooled her but as she brushed her hair away from her face, pieces of confetti floated from it and she remembered all the wishes of good luck. With a sigh, she crossed to a grouping of watercolor paintings—horses and their riders around a campfire. Life had always been fairly simple for her and it wasn't anymore. She supposed that's what happened when you started making your own decisions. Except her decision to marry Reed was still a mystery to her.

She heard the door open and close and wondered if Reed had come after her. She wasn't sure what she'd say to him if he had. But it wasn't Reed's voice she heard, it was Lily's.

“Is something wrong, Mallory?”

She knew she couldn't lie and didn't want to. “Everything happened so fast between Reed and me, I guess I'm just a little overwhelmed by it.”

“You didn't look overwhelmed. You looked upset. Did you and Reed have a fight?”

“No. Someone made a remark… Sometimes I just don't understand why Reed married me. I mean he was engaged and—” She broke off, not sure how to continue.

Lily's dark eyes flashed. “Apparently Reed hasn't convinced you yet that you're not a substitute for someone else.” Taking Mallory's hand, Lily pulled her to one of the sofas. As they sat, she said, “Men can be so thick sometimes.”

That brought a smile to Mallory's face. “I'm sure Ryan isn't thick.”

Lily laughed. “He once was, but so was I.”

“Tell me about it,” Mallory prompted.

Lily got a dreamy look in her eyes. “When Ryan and I met we were so young. We fell in love. It was wonderful and terrible and everything in between. But he was rich, and I felt I was just a poor girl who didn't deserve his love…that I could never be worthy of a Fortune. His brother Cameron managed to come between us and caused us to quarrel. I did something incredibly stupid and lost Ryan forever. At least, that's what I thought.”

“What happened then?” Mallory asked.

“I moved away, married someone I had dated before Ryan but didn't really love, and forged a life for myself. But I never forgot Ryan or the bond between us, or his love and his respect. I had been a widow for ten years when I saw him again, and it was as if we'd never been apart. But this time no obstacle could come between us. Not even me being accused of his wife's murder.” Lily patted Mallory's knee. “When you meet your true love, Mallory, that love lasts forever. Don't ever doubt that.”

Mallory had listened to everything Lily had said, but one fact stood out sharp and clear. Lily and Ryan had fallen in love and had never forgotten that love. True love, only love, forever love. Just as her mother had told her. The fact that Reed would probably never forget Stephanie sat like a lead weight on Mallory's heart.

The French doors opened and Reed stepped inside. “I thought my wife might like to dance a waltz.”

He used “wife” so easily, as if it were true, but they both knew better. Sometimes she forgot why they were going on with this charade, then she remembered. Winston. Forcing a smile, she stood and crossed to Reed. “I haven't waltzed in a long time.”

“I'll refresh your memory.”

Remembering their dances at the Golden Spur, an anticipatory quiver went through her. As he held the door open, she preceded him outside. Many couples were dancing to the button accordion's music. Reed found an empty spot and took her into his arms, but today they danced in the standard position with space between them.

He gazed down at her and said, “Hank didn't mean anything by his remark.”

“It's what everyone is thinking,” she murmured.

“You don't know that.”

“It's what
I'm
thinking.”

Reed's blue eyes studied her. “We shouldn't have to do this much longer.”

The strength of his arms around her, the set of his jaw, the lock of hair falling casually over his forehead, all made her long for something that seemed much too far from her grasp. Being close to him hurt.
She didn't know why, and she had to figure it out. She couldn't do that with him holding her. With him looking at her. With him dancing with her.

Her feet stopped moving and she pulled away from him. Keeping her voice low, she said, “Winston doesn't have spies here, and I can't do this right now. There are enough people that we can mingle and talk without anyone noticing we're not together.” Leaving his arms, she went to help Rosita refill platters.

Reed couldn't take his eyes off Mallory the rest of the evening. She'd been right. There
were
enough people here that no one noticed that they weren't standing together or talking together or pretending to be newlyweds. She was feeling trapped again, he could tell, and he wouldn't be surprised if she wanted to take off before Dawson returned.

But he wouldn't let her. Men such as Winston didn't quit. He was just biding his time until he made his next move.

Above all else, he was going to protect Mallory from Winston. But he had to admit he wanted a lot more than to simply keep her safe. Some kind of bond had formed between them, and each day it grew stronger. It was based on desire, but there was more, too. More that he didn't understand. More that had to do with his engagement to Stephanie and how he'd almost forgotten about the dream he'd once had with her. Now his dreams seemed to be filled with Mallory.

Reed was sitting with a group of men in the great room later that evening, only half listening to the conversation, when Mallory came in looking for him. She came up to him with a smile, but he knew the smile
wasn't genuine. He was beginning to be able to tell a lot of things about her.

“I'm going to go back to the cabin,” she told him. “If you want to stay longer, that's fine. Cruz and Savannah can give me a ride.”

Standing, he said, “I'll take you back.” His voice brooked no argument.

After they made their rounds of goodbyes, they drove back in silence. As they entered the cabin, the ceiling fan drew the night breeze with all its scents and sounds in through the windows.

“Cruz and Hank said it's fine with them if you want to work with the colts again tomorrow.” Reed felt he had to break the tension before she went and hid in the bedroom. Conversation concerning something she cared about might do it.

“Is it fine with you, too?”

There was something in her voice, a bit of rebellion that rankled. “Mallory, I don't control your every move.”

“Sometimes it seems like it. There's a fine line between being protected and being a prisoner.”

The tension and frustration that had been niggling at him erupted. “You know, Mallory, you're a spoiled little rich girl who wants everything her own way. Maybe you'd better grow up and take a good look at reality when it hits you in the face. If you'd rather be back in San Francisco with Winston Bentley, you're free to go. I won't stop you.”

“You know that's not what I want,” she said softly, looking hurt.

“Then I guess you're just going to have to make the best of a difficult situation.”

Her shoulders straightened, and he knew he'd set a match to her rebelliousness. “I do intend to make the best of it.” Her chin lifted. “Tomorrow morning I'm meeting with Lily to discuss redecorating a suite of rooms. Tomorrow afternoon I'll help with the horses, and tomorrow night, I'm going to create a plan for my life. I don't need to wait until Dawson returns to consult with a real estate agent about shop space, or to call a few furniture stores and find out if they need an interior decorator to help with their clients. I'm going to put my life in order, Reed. Very soon you won't have to worry about protecting me.”

With that announcement, she turned and went into the bedroom, and Reed knew he wouldn't see her anymore tonight. She could be so damn frustrating that he felt like putting his fist through the wall. Sucking in a deep breath and some controlled patience, he knew he'd be better off coming up with a plan to take the edge off of Mallory's restlessness.

A good night's sleep would help.

But as he unfolded the sofa and he could still smell the scent of her lingering perfume, he doubted whether a good night's sleep was any more likely than finding relief from the relentless desire he felt for Mallory Prescott.

A
round midnight on Sunday, Clint restlessly paged through a week-old tabloid Betsy had brought in. There was nothing in it he wanted to read, but he didn't have anything else to do with her waitressing at a twenty-four-hour diner and his thigh still burning like the fires of hell. But his fever had broken this morning, and he was grateful for that. Maybe now he could build up his strength and get back on his feet.

He hated being an invalid, beholden to someone else. He already had Betsy under his spell. He could tell. When he smiled at her, she was by his side with a damp cloth or a glass of water or a cup of broth. But, hell, he needed real food and new clothes and a plan. If he could get to the cash and fake ID stashed in his cabin on the Double Crown… He had to convince Betsy to stick her neck out and go get it for him.

When he heard the sputtering of her old car, he knew it wouldn't take much to convince her. All he had to do was to give her a piece of a dream.

She stepped inside, and two cats followed her. Clint guessed why. She was carrying a plastic box with something wrapped in tinfoil on top of it.

“Sorry I'm late, but I had a chance to pick up extra
tips. I wasn't goin' to turn that down. How are you feelin'?”

He gave her one of his best smiles. “Better. Thanks to you. You've taken such good care of me.”

Blushing, she pulled a chair up beside the sofa and sat. “I brought you roast beef and mashed potatoes. They let me eat whatever I want while I'm there, and I just told them I needed something for later. Are you feelin' up to a real meal?”

“I sure am. I gotta build up my strength.”

“You're not thinking about leavin', are you?”

She looked stricken, and he knew he had a tool if he needed leverage. “Sugar, I couldn't leave you after all you've done for me. Matter of fact, I was just thinking about how I can repay you. How would you like to be able to go to the grocery store and buy anything you want?”

“Even cat food?” she asked, almost like a child.

“Cat food and candy bars and whatever else you want.”

“But how?”

“I told you how I was framed…that Ryan Fortune paid someone to kill his wife so he could marry his old lover.”

Betsy nodded.

“Well,” he drawled. “I saw it coming. He's had three wives, and the first one was my sister Janine. He made me a hired hand while they lived high on the hog, and I knew he hated my guts. Now he's turned my whole family against me. My sister, Mary Ellen, my brother Jace. I don't have anyone because of him.”

“You have me,” Betsy said quietly.

Clint took her hand in his, knowing it was time to take this to the next level, knowing he had to secure her complete loyalty. He brushed his thumb across the top of her hand in a caressing gesture, and the look in her eyes told him this wasn't going to be difficult at all. “You've become important to me, sugar. You saved my life and now I want to share it with you.”

Betsy's heart started beating faster than it had ever beat before. For forty-three years she had waited for a man to say those kinds of things to her. When she was a teenager, she used to sneak into the movie house. She liked the stories about men and women and love and having someone the rest of your life. But men didn't look at a woman who had no pretty clothes and had no money to buy makeup. But the way Clint looked at her…she felt special. Everyone else she had ever cared about had left her. Her parents were dead, her brother far away somewhere.

The touch of Clint's fingers, the messages in his eyes, told her maybe he wanted some of the same things she did. Yet… “What if the law catches up to you?”

“We're just going to have to make sure that doesn't happen. Not until we can leave the country.”

“Leave the country?”

“I'm putting together a plan. Are you with me?”

“You mean, you'd really take me with you?”

“Betsy, you've been an angel of mercy to me.” Something powerful glinted in his eyes that made her feel powerful, too. “I think you could be a lot more, if that's what you want,” he finished.

She wanted somebody of her own, a man of her own, so desperately that tears came to her eyes.

He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed it. “When I'm feeling better, I'll show you just how grateful I am. But for now, if you're willing to help me out, I can make our life a little easier.”

“How can I help?”

“I need you to go to the Double Crown to the cabin where I used to live and get me something. I have cash stashed away and a few other things. Think you could do that for me?”

The idea of buying anything she wanted at a grocery store, of filling her small refrigerator, of feeding her cats, of helping this man so they could have a life together, was enough to make her say, “Just tell me what I have to do.”

 

For two days Mallory hardly spoke to Reed at all. Monday she'd met with Lily and shown her the ideas for the guest suite. Lily had been pleased, and they'd gone shopping today—all day—and begun the redecoration process. Mallory had bought her own jeans, boots and hat, as well. But she'd been careful how much she'd spent. Maybe she
had
been a spoiled rich kid while she was growing up, but she wasn't one now. She'd opened a checking account at a local bank and deposited the commission Lily had given her. A few more commissions and she could look for space to rent.

The tension between her and Reed since the barbecue had practically bounced off the walls. Especially when his parents had phoned last evening and insisted on giving her their good wishes. Though from
the look on Reed's face during some of the conversation, they'd asked questions he was reluctant to answer. Just from their voices and their well-wishes, Mallory liked Teddy and Fiona Fortune already. They thought she'd be returning to Australia with their son. They thought she was really their daughter-in-law.

Afterward Reed had said to her, “They won't mind that I kept them in the dark when they learn your safety was involved.”

But Mallory minded. She didn't like pretending to be someone she wasn't. Even more disturbing were the times she wished she and Reed weren't pretending!

As she made supper Tuesday evening, wrapping ground meat in tortillas and baking it with cheese in the oven as Rosita had instructed her to do, she heard Reed's truck pull into the drive.

When he came into the adobe and then the kitchen he remarked, “That smells good. Do I have time for a shower?”

She nodded and then said, “I called Zane this morning and got Dawson's itinerary. Then I faxed him from Ryan's office.”

Reed came closer to her and she could smell leather and horses and his own scent. Steeling her senses against the pleasure of it, she went on. “I didn't want someone else telling him about our marriage. I wanted him to know what was going on before he came home.”

“You told him about Bentley?”

She nodded. “As best I could in a letter. I told him no one else knows.”

The nerve in Reed's jaw worked and his expression was stern. “That's quite a lot for Dawson to absorb.”

“He called a little while ago and we talked. He said he'll be home on Sunday and we can hash everything out. I sensed there was something he wasn't saying— Maybe it was my imagination. Anyway, he told me I should…trust you.”

“But you don't, do you?”

“I got engaged to a man who wasn't trustworthy. I can't trust my own mother to listen to me. I married you without knowing what I was doing. So I can't even trust myself! The only person I'm sure I can trust is Dawson.”

In some ways she knew she
could
trust Reed, especially to keep her safe. But in others… She was afraid he'd steal her heart and go back to Australia.

Reed's body was incredibly close to hers. The two of them standing there generated more heat than the oven. She waited, almost hoping he'd kiss her, yet knowing the next kiss could lead her into more trouble than she was already in.

The silence grew almost throbbing in its intensity until he asked, “Do you think about our kisses in the middle of the night?” His voice rasped over her senses, making them more alert to him.

“Sometimes,” she said in a tremulous voice, being honest, yet not completely honest. Sometimes in the middle of the night, her imagination took her much further than kisses.

“I think about them
every
night. I don't believe you've ever really been confronted by a man's physical needs, have you?”

The suppressed desire in Reed's blue eyes was
something she'd never seen before, let alone known. Her throat went dry as her heart raced and she didn't think it would ever slow down again.

“How did you evade Bentley? Just say no? Tell him you had a headache?”

“Reed, don't do this—”

“Don't do what? Tell you I want you? Tell you I think you've denied your own desires and passions all your life? Let me tell you something, Mallory. Honesty and trust go hand in hand. If you had any idea of the pictures running through my mind every night, you'd know for certain you can trust me. Because I'm sure some other man would care more about his own needs than about keeping you safe. This is no picnic for me, either.”

With that, he stepped away, and left her standing alone in the kitchen, her heart pounding, her body yearning for contact with his.

After he'd showered, they ate with record speed, not talking, avoiding eye contact. She had served dinner inside tonight, knowing they weren't going to linger. As Reed took his dish to the sink, he finally spoke. “I'd like to go over to see Cruz tonight, but I don't want to leave you here alone at night.”

“You could drop me off at Rosita's. I want to borrow another cookbook and return this one. That way we wouldn't have to be…together.”

“That might be best,” he said tersely. “When will you be ready?”

“Just give me five minutes to freshen up.”

He nodded. “I'll be out by the pickup.”

Throughout the evening, as before, Mallory enjoyed her time with Rosita, but she couldn't help
wondering what Reed was doing at Cruz's ranch, what they were discussing…if he was still feeling the aftermath of that restrained earthquake in the kitchen tonight. He was a passionate man and just the idea that he wanted her made her tremble. But why did he want her?

If that was all, it wasn't enough.

It was nearly ten-thirty when Reed returned to Rosita's for her. The night was silent except for the sound of the tires on the road as they drove home. But as he pulled onto the gravel, he ordered, “Wait here.”

“Why?”

“Something's wrong. The light's on in the bedroom. You didn't turn it on before we left, did you?”

“No.”

He climbed out and closed the truck door. Mallory watched as he cut across the yard to the front, but it was so dark she lost all sense of where he was. As one minute ticked by and then two, she got worried, couldn't stay in the truck, and went after him cautiously. But by the time she reached the front door, he'd turned on the living room light and its rays spilled outside.

“Reed?” she called as she opened the screen door.

“Don't touch anything,” he directed.

Opening the screen, she went inside and gasped, “Oh, my.”

The place was topsy-turvy. The kitchen window was broken and glass littered the floor. The cupboards stood open, sofa cushions had been tossed here and there. Even the candle and vases on the mantel had been moved. Reed stood by the phone, holding the
receiver with a dish towel. “I'm calling Ryan,” he said. “He needs to know about this.”

Nodding, Mallory went to the bedroom. The drawers had been opened and both her clothing and Reed's were strewn across the floor along with the bed pillows and the tan spread. There didn't seem to be any rhyme or reason to the chaos.

Reed came into the bedroom. “Did you have any money tucked away in here?”

“No. My checkbook and cash were in the purse I had with me. How about you?”

“Ryan has a safe up at the house. I keep mine up there except for what I carry on me.”

“Did they take anything?”

“I'm not sure this was meant to be a robbery.”

“What do you mean?”

“There are three possibilities, Mallory. My first guess is Winston Bentley. He's trying to scare you, make you feel unsafe here, so you'll go running home.”

“That's ridiculous.”

“Is it?” Reed picked up a pair of her pink lace underwear lying on the floor. “How does it feel to come in here and know that someone has touched your things?”

Chills ran up and down her spine. Reed was right. She felt violated that someone she didn't know had gone through their things. “You said there were three possibilities.”

“The second suspect would be Clint Lockhart.”

The chills got worse. “You think he's here on the Double Crown?”

“There's no way of knowing. Ryan's calling the sheriff. He'll have the place dusted for prints.”

“And the third possibility?” she asked, almost afraid of the answer.

“That this is a random burglar who didn't take anything because we didn't have anything he wanted. Although we have a real mess here, I can't see that anything's missing. Can you?”

Looking around, she had to agree.

By the time they'd made another cursory examination of the cabin, Ryan arrived. When he came inside, he took off his Stetson and whacked it against his thigh. “I can't believe someone managed to slip in and out of here without my security staff seeing them.”

“There's something you should know,” Reed said. When he cast a quick glance at her, Mallory wondered if he was going to tell Ryan that their marriage was a fake. Holding her breath, she waited.

He continued, “Mallory left an ex-fiancé back in San Francisco. A rich one who isn't too happy she married me. This could be his work.”