Marry in Haste... (4 page)

“Wedding bands shouldn't be something you just get over with!” Then she realized how thoroughly ridiculous that sounded when they were married in name only. But she couldn't take it back and she couldn't back down. Not if she was going to start her own life. Not if she was going to stand on her own two feet.

“Fine. It's done now,” he said, tossing the box to the center of the bed. “I'm going back to the barn.”

“I might not be here when you get back.”

“Mallory—”

“I just want to take a walk and explore a bit. I need some freedom.”

“Just because Bentley's in San Francisco doesn't mean you're safe. Freedom won't mean much if he has someone kidnap you.”

“Are you trying to scare me?”

Reed ran his hand up and down the back of his
neck. “No. I'm telling you to be realistic and to stay close to the cabin. Even Ryan's security may not be foolproof.”

“All right,” she conceded with a sigh. “I'll stay in the cabin while you're gone.”

He looked as if he was debating whether or not he should leave her alone.

“Go back to the barn, if you want. I don't need a watchdog, Reed.”

His gaze dropped to the box on the bed, and she tried again to remember marrying him. But she couldn't.

“I'll see you later,” he said briskly as he turned and left the bedroom and then the cabin.

Tears pricked in Mallory's eyes. Apparently Reed could be as high-handed as Winston—making arrangements, not consulting her, having a jeweler at his disposal.

What had she done?

Run away from Winston Bentley IV only to marry a man who was just like him?

 

Usually being around horses settled Reed and soothed him into the rhythm of nature and animals and the land. But the past twenty-four hours had been so extraordinarily different…even the time he'd spent with the horses hadn't settled his thoughts.

As he drove the blue pickup past Rosita and Ruben's house, he realized Mallory was a brand of woman he didn't know. Vulnerable and needing his protection one minute, rebellious and independent the next, she surprised him constantly. Stephanie had been docile, mellow, nondistracting to be around.
With Mallory all of his senses were distracted, as well as his thoughts. He should tell her about Stephanie, but the time just hadn't seemed right, not with everything else that had been going on.

This business with the rings…. Was Mallory simply upset he hadn't consulted her? Or was she feeling trapped in a situation not entirely of her own making?

At the cabin, he pulled the pickup onto the gravel lane beside the adobe and got out. But as he slammed the door he smelled something burning and saw smoke puffing out the side window in the kitchen. When he raced inside, the acrid smell was even stronger and he found Mallory at the stove with two burned skillets. She coughed and tried to fan more smoke out the window.

Reed took a quick look around to make sure nothing was still burning before he pushed open wider the kitchen window, which was larger than the transom windows throughout the rest of the cabin.

“I was trying to cook us supper,” she said in explanation. “I found chicken legs in the refrigerator, and I thought I'd make a stir-fry with the frozen vegetables.”

The heat from the stove along with the heat of the afternoon had built up inside. Going to the burners on the stove, he poked at the chicken legs that were burned on the outside and obviously not done on the inside. The vegetables in the second frying pan hadn't fared much better. Anyone who would try to fry chicken without a coating or stir-fry frozen vegetables didn't—

He looked at Mallory, her bangs damp against her forehead, her cheeks flushed, her knit top splattered
with everything she'd tried to make. “You don't know how to cook, do you?”

“I, uh…” Pulling herself up to her full five foot five inches, she answered him. “No, I don't. But that doesn't mean I can't try.”

He couldn't keep a smile from his lips. “At this rate, we're going to waste an awful lot of food until you learn.” He'd meant to tease her, but the expression on her face said she hadn't taken it as a joke.

“I just wanted to make dinner. We haven't eaten all day, and I knew you'd probably be hungry.”

He was suddenly very hungry but not for food, and the fact that he wanted her in this smoke-filled kitchen with the heat beading his forehead made him realize his good sense was farther away than Australia. “The day ran away from us.”

“Not only the day,” she said, shaking her head. “I feel as if my whole life has.”

The confusion in her voice led him to reach out and touch her hair. It was so silky. She was so very beautiful, and she was his wife. She stood perfectly still as he tucked her hair behind her ear, then couldn't resist setting his mouth on hers. The moment lips touched lips, fiery desire escalated inside of him.

His tongue played with hers until suddenly she pushed away. “We can't do this, Reed. Everything is complicated enough!”

He was just beginning to realize
how
complicated. Stepping away from her, he willed his pulse to slow. “Why don't you go get cleaned up? I'll put something together out here.”

She hesitated. “But I should help—”

“Mallory, there's a time to help and there's a time to just let someone else do it.”

Not looking happy with either kissing him or his philosophy, she turned away from him and went to the bedroom.

Damn, he hadn't wanted to upset her, but he didn't want to bump elbows and other parts with her in this small kitchen, either. He couldn't do that without wanting to kiss her again. Without wanting—

He swore and opened the refrigerator.

He didn't see Mallory again until he'd stirred up a concoction of ground beef and beans and tomato sauce with a few spices thrown in and steamed another bag of frozen vegetables. Grabbing a bag of tortilla chips from a cupboard, he poured them into a bowl.

As she came around the corner from the living room, she said, “It smells good.” She'd changed into a pair of light blue shorts and a pretty matching top with a square neck that showed a lot of her creamy skin.

“Did you bring three changes of clothes for each day?” he asked, noting again their fine quality, guessing she'd packed for a honeymoon. As she frowned and would have turned away, he caught her arm. “Mallory, wait. I think we need to clear the air.”

“It's clear,” she said wryly, obviously speaking of the smoke that had filled the adobe earlier.

Ignoring her remark, he gazed down at her, controlling the urge to pull her into his arms. “We've been thrust into this living-together arrangement without really knowing each other. I'm used to living with
four brothers and a sister, joking and poking fun most of the time. Obviously that doesn't work with you.”

After a moment when she studied him, she said softly, “You weren't like that last night.”

Releasing her arm, he let out a long breath. “Last night was…last night. Today we have to be reasonable and figure out what works. There's a patio area out back. Let's take our supper out there and eat it. It will be cooler.”

She didn't respond, but then nodded and moved away, picking up the bowl of tortilla chips.

A red Spanish oak and a Mexican sycamore formed a natural canopy over a square area, hard-scaped with crushed stone, at the back of the adobe. The wrought-iron table for two sat in the center and a wrought-iron bench graced the side.

After they were both seated, Reed asked, “So, you're an only child?”

She took a sip of water, then set her glass by her plate. “I always wanted brothers and sisters, and that's why it was so difficult when my mother kept Dawson and me apart.”

“But your dad apparently understood.” He remembered what she'd told him on the plane about her father bringing her and her half brother together.

“Yes, he did understand. But he was a cardiac surgeon and never home very much. Don't get me wrong, I'm not complaining. I had a terrific childhood and went to the best schools. Even after Mother married George…” Mallory gave a little shrug. “My stepfather cares about me in his own way. It's just that he's a different kind of man than my father was.”

“He wants you to marry Winston?”

“For my own good. You see, he doesn't think I
know
my own good.”

Reed couldn't help but smile.

After she dug into her food for a while, she looked up at him. “This is terrific.”

“Don't sound so surprised.”

“You were right, you know, about me and cooking. I never have. We always had a housekeeper who did that.” Then she smiled at him with an expression that was as bright as the sun. “But now I can learn, and before I try it again, I'll buy a cookbook. Where did you learn?”

Thinking of the Crown Peak Ranch and the way he'd grown up, he was thankful. “My mother taught all of us. She insists men have to take care of themselves in the kitchen as well as other places.”

Mallory smiled. “A very liberated female.”

He laughed. “I think you'd like my mother.” And for some inexplicable reason, it occurred to him that his mother would like Mallory.

When Mallory asked about his family's ranch, he told her about the Australian stock horses that they raised, claiming that their operation was much smaller than the Double Crown's, but just as fine. The Crown Peak was well respected in New South Wales and surrounding states. At her interested questions, he revealed he'd earned a bachelor's degree in animal sciences from the University of Adelaide.

“You said your father and Ryan were recently reunited. What happened that they were separated?”

“It's a long story,” he warned.

“I think my schedule is clear for tonight,” she teased.

She
did
have a sense of humor, and he smiled, thinking he'd like to discover all of Mallory Prescott's facets. But keeping his mind on her question, he remembered the saga and began, “My father lost his mother when she died of pneumonia. His father, Kingston Fortune, was overseas fighting in World War Two. There was bad blood between Kingston and my mother's father, Josiah Talbot. He was a religious zealot and believed that Kingston had stolen his innocent daughter. The couple had eloped and moved away because of Josiah.” Reed pushed his plate back. “Have I confused you yet?”

Smiling, she shook her head.

Reed propped an arm on the table. “Kingston was overseas when his wife took ill. A well-meaning friend found papers with Josiah Talbot's name and address, and contacted him. When his daughter died, he took the baby—who was my father—so Kingston would never be able to find him. Josiah's church had a mission outside of Sydney. He booked passage on a ship, told my father that Kingston was dead and now he was a Talbot.”

“Josiah Talbot sounds like a terrible man—renouncing your father's birthright.”

“He
was
terrible. When my father was twelve, he went to work on a sheep station and fell in love with the family's daughter. He learned he had an affinity for horses, and tended the farm's stable. Josiah died when Dad was seventeen, leaving him his birth certificate with his real name—Theodore Kingston Fortune. My dad did some searching into my grandfather's background, longing to find any family he might still have. But he never had the funds to travel
here. Once he fell in love, he didn't want to leave my mother. But he did take back the Fortune name before they married.”

“So how did he and Ryan finally reunite?”

“My mom knew Dad's dream to come to the U.S. someday and she planned to give him a trip on their fortieth wedding anniversary. Then she heard about the Fortune child who was kidnapped and returned to Ryan Fortune, the son of legendary rancher Kingston Fortune. The newscaster mentioned the kidnapping of Kingston's first son in 1942 and the crown birthmark, as well. Mom and Dad packed their bags and arrived at the Double Crown about six months ago, just in time to see Ryan and Lily became husband and wife.”

“What a terribly sad, yet wonderful story, too!”

Footsteps along the side of the cabin forestalled further comment. Reed recognized their visitor immediately. “Zane, come meet Mallory.”

His cousin came over to the table and shook her hand. “It's good to meet you. I was over at Cruz's place, and Dad called.”

“Is something wrong?” Reed asked, seeing something in Zane's expression.

“Dad wouldn't say, but he wants all of us up at the house as soon as we can get there. I told him I'd stop here on my way back and tell you. Mallory, he'd like you to come, too. I guess we're going to initiate you into the family in grand style.” As his gaze swept the table and the remains of their meal, he added, “I'm sorry I had to interrupt your first night here together.”

“Oh, it's all right,” Mallory said quickly.

Zane gave Reed a probing look. “How did your parents take the news of your wedding?”

Reed answered, “I haven't told them yet.”

“I bet they'll be surprised,” Zane remarked. “Are you going to let Stephanie know?”

“There's no need for that,” Reed said stiffly, wishing Zane hadn't brought up the subject of his ex-fiancée. Not yet.

Zane's gaze narrowed, and he must have realized he might have stepped into taboo territory. “Well, I'll see you at the house in a little while, then.” With a wave of his hand, he left them alone again.

After Zane had rounded the corner, Mallory asked Reed, “Is Stephanie your sister?”

“No. Matilda is my sister. Stephanie is…
was
my fiancée.”

“Your fiancée? You mean, you were engaged when you married me?” She sounded disappointed, hurt and dismayed.

“No,” he said firmly. There was no easy way to say it. “Last week she broke it off.”