Marry in Haste... (5 page)

Mallory's hazel eyes grew wider. “When last week?”

“The day before I left for Reno.”

There was silence for a few moments until Mallory decided, “You went to Reno to nurse a broken heart.”

“I went to Reno for a vacation,” he said gruffly.

“
That's
why you were drinking tequila and listening to music and not dancing.”

“Mallory—”

She continued. “And in a fit of pique, because you
felt you had something to prove, you asked me to marry you.”

“You're twisting this into something it's not.”

“Tell me I'm wrong.”

The problem was, he couldn't tell her she was completely off the mark. Yes, he had invited her to his table because he'd had something to prove. However, somehow during the evening, proving had gotten lost in something else entirely. But his silence was Mallory's answer.

“Now I understand,” she said. “You got married to get back at a fiancée who hurt you, and I got married because I was too drunk to care. We both should have our heads examined! Sex, payback, confusion. It doesn't paint a very pretty picture.” Standing, she took her plate and glass and followed the path under the rose arbor, disappearing from sight.

They had been getting on so well before Zane's arrival, but Reed was sure Mallory would keep even more distance between them now. He'd felt the wall go up higher and thicker than the sturdiest fortress when she'd learned about Stephanie. Standing, he picked up his plate and glass and went inside.

Mallory was rinsing a dish in the sink.

Setting his on the small counter, he said, “We should wear the wedding rings tonight.”

After a brief silence she murmured, “I'll get them,” and avoided his gaze as she dried her hands.

Meeting her in the living room, he watched her open the box. When she took out the smaller ring and put it on her finger, he had the strangest desire to stop her, to do it himself. But that would be ridiculous.
Taking the box from her, he put the larger band on his finger. “Are you ready?”

When he gazed down at her, she looked troubled. “Maybe I shouldn't go. It's not as if I'm family.”

“If you don't come along, everyone will think something is wrong.”

“And we have to play a happily married couple,” she said as if it was a death sentence.

“At least until Dawson returns.”

Her troubled expression made him want to take her into his arms and assure her everything would be all right. But she wouldn't let him get close. Not now.

During their short drive to Ryan Fortune's house, Mallory made sure she kept a good foot between her and Reed. It wasn't far, but the silence made it seem like miles away. She couldn't help but wonder what Reed's fiancée—
ex-fiancée,
she reminded herself, looked like and sounded like. She should have realized a man didn't marry on a whim, and from what she knew of Reed Fortune already, she guessed everything he did had a purpose. She had no right to be upset that he was probably still in love with his fiancée. She was as much to blame for this fiasco as he was. Still…it had been flattering to think that desire and his sense of honor had led them to the courthouse. Now she knew better. Winston had had his ulterior motives, and Reed had had his. That knowledge made her doubt her judgment about men in general.

Reed parked in front of a garden that held masses of large purple sage plants and ornamental grasses in hues of green and blue. She was out of the truck before he could come around to her door. They walked
side by side through the arched entryway and open wrought-iron gate. Along the curving stone walkway, the fragrance of roses drifted by, and Mallory scanned the outer courtyard with its paloverde, ornamental grasses, native plants and rocks arranged in what looked like a miniature arroyo. Flowering vines—jasmine, she thought—also perfumed the area as they mounted the adobe steps that led up to the large antique wooden door and covered entryway.

An older woman opened the door. Her dark hair, pulled back into a bun, had one white streak. She was pleasantly plump and her gathered gauzy skirt, which swept to her ankles, increased the effect. She wore a smile as she pulled Reed to her for a tight hug. “Congratulations. I heard all about this whirlwind marriage. Let me meet your special lady.”

When she finally let Reed go, he smiled down at her. “Rosita Perez, meet Mallory Prescott Fortune. Mallory, Rosita is much more than a housekeeper here. She's also Cruz Perez's mother. I'm working with him at his ranch as well as at the Double Crown. The Perez's are our closest neighbors.”

Mallory intended to extend her hand, but Rosita caught her in a huge bear hug, too. “Welcome to the family.” Over Mallory's shoulder she said to Reed, “She's a beauty.”

Mallory wasn't used to open displays of affection, but found she liked it and this woman who treated Reed as if he were a son.

Keeping her arm around Mallory, Rosita led her inside. The foyer opened up into a great room with a high-beamed ceiling. There was a large open hearth on one wall and curved wooden framed-glass doors
at the other end of the room, which Mallory guessed opened up to another courtyard. Through an archway, she could see the dining room. Large leather couches and comfortable chairs in groupings in the living room looked inviting. A huge painted armoire and Western-style pieces, including antler lights and Native American prints, gave the room a warm ambience.

Rosita took Mallory straight to a strikingly beautiful woman standing next to Ryan Fortune. She had high cheekbones, huge dark eyes, an aquiline nose, and her shiny dark hair was worn in a twist at the back of her head. “Lily, this is Mallory Prescott, Reed's new wife,” Rosita said. “Mallory, this is Mrs. Ryan Fortune.”

Mallory extended her hand. “It's good to meet you.”

The elegant woman wearing a red dress with geometric designs on the shoulders extended her hand. “Please, call me Lily. And congratulations.”

Reed curved his arm around Mallory's waist and she stiffened, but then she consciously relaxed knowing she was a partner in this charade. “Thank you.”

Reed glanced at Ryan, who was speaking to a tall, tanned man. From the resemblance between the two men, Mallory guessed he was one of Ryan's sons. Reed asked Lily, “Is everything all right?”

Lily shook her head. “I'm afraid not.” She took her husband's elbow. “Ryan, I think everyone's here now.”

Ryan nodded at Reed and Mallory but didn't smile. “Everyone, I'd like your attention.”

The ten or so people in the room looked toward
the tall man. Reed escorted Mallory to an unoccupied chair and she sat while he lounged beside her on the arm. “I'll introduce you to the family later,” he said.

Mallory was aware of Reed's jeans-clad thigh very close to her arm, the bulk of him by her shoulder. She couldn't seem to control her pulse rate when he was this close. But when Ryan Fortune began speaking, she focused all her attention on him.

Ryan started. “I would rather this were a happy occasion, a celebration for Reed and Mallory's marriage.”

Everyone looked at them, smiled, and Mallory blushed. She felt like an imposter.

The patriarch of the Fortune family continued. “But it's not, and I'll get straight to the reason I asked you here. Clint Lockhart has escaped from prison.”

S
tunned silence met Ryan Fortune's announcement. He frowned and continued. “While Clint was being transferred to another prison yesterday, the prison van was involved in an accident. He managed to escape. The guard shot at him, but the authorities don't know if he was hit. The guard had been injured in the accident and couldn't chase him farther into the woods.”

Mallory tried to remember what she had read about Clint Lockhart when the murder of Sophia Barnes Fortune had been front-page news and Lily had been blamed for the crime. Ryan's first wife, Janine Lockhart, had been Clint's sister, and Clint had lived on the ranch as one of the cowhands. Janine died of breast cancer, and Ryan had later married Sophia. But after Sophia's murder, scandal sheets had reported her intimate involvement with Clint while she was still married to Ryan. Supposedly, Clint had murdered her because she'd reneged on a promise to cut him in on her divorce settlement from Ryan. Then he'd framed Lily for the murder. Lily's son, Cole Cassidy, had helped link Clint to the crime, and after Clint Lockhart had confessed, he'd been given a life sentence.

But now….

The troubled expression on Ryan's face warned
them before his words did. “We all know how badly Clint hates this family, and I wouldn't put it past him to try to do more harm. I'm hiring extra security, especially around Mary Ellen and Sam's house. Since she's his sister, the authorities believe he may try to contact her. I called Sam, and they're going to cut their vacation short and return tomorrow. Authorities really don't think Clint will get this far before he's caught, but I'd like you all to stick close to home. I don't want the Double Crown to feel like a prison to you, though, and I just ask that you not go anywhere alone, not until he's apprehended. Are we agreed on that?”

Everyone nodded.

Ryan draped his arm around his wife's shoulders. “On the other hand, Clint Lockhart has taken up too much of our time and attention over the past year. Rosita has fixed a spread for anyone who's hungry, so go and enjoy it so she knows she did a good job.” Then he forced a smile and motioned toward the dining room.

Reed leaned close to Mallory. “Just to fill you in on some background…as Ryan said, Mary Ellen is Clint's sister. She married Ryan's brother, Cameron, who's now deceased. Her new husband, Sam, is a security expert. Mary Ellen and Cameron built that house we passed earlier. After Cameron died, she stayed close to the family and eloped with Sam about six months ago.”

“This family's endless,” Mallory murmured.

“Just about,” Reed quipped. “I haven't even met all my cousins yet. C'mon, let me introduce you to some people. They'll want to meet my new wife.”

Mallory didn't enjoy playing a role. Reminding herself that Reed had been engaged to someone else a few days ago, she told herself that she really didn't belong here, didn't really belong with Reed. But she let him guide her toward a group of family members.

He introduced her to Dallas Fortune, the son Ryan had been talking to earlier, and his wife Maggie; another son, Matthew, and his wife Claudia; Cruz and his wife Savannah. Rosita introduced Mallory to her husband Ruben and explained that Maggie was her daughter.

Finally Zane came over to them, a pretty brunette on his arm. She wore her hair pulled back in a ponytail and her large blue gray eyes twinkled. “My wife Gwen,” Zane said with a crooked smile. “The woman who tamed me.”

Gwen lightly jabbed him in the ribs. “Your nose is going to grow,” she teased with a loving smile. “I didn't tame him, I redirected his energy.”

Zane rolled his eyes and shook his head.

As Ryan joined them, he cast a concerned look at Mallory. “The rest of us are used to dealing with Clint and the trouble he's brought down upon us. I hope I didn't scare you. I just want everyone to be careful.”

Reed put his arm around her and pulled her against his shoulder. Again she tensed for a moment, then made herself relax. Right now, being this close to Reed seemed more dangerous than any harm an escaped convict could do.

“I'll make sure she's kept safe,” Reed told his uncle.

“You know, I've been thinking since you got off
the plane this afternoon, we ought to give you a real wedding, with a cake and all the trimmings,” Ryan suggested.

“No,” they both said quickly.

Gwen and Zane exchanged looks, and Ryan asked, “Why ever not?”

“We really appreciate the thought,” Reed responded for both of them, “but we don't want any fuss.”

“Right,” Mallory agreed.

“I guess this
is
a honeymoon of sorts for you before you go back to Australia,” Ryan concluded. “I imagine Reed's told you that two of his brothers and his sister are coming over in a few weeks,” he remarked.

“I, uh, we haven't talked about a whole lot yet,” Mallory said, feeling guilty because everyone was being so nice.

Zane chuckled. “Newlyweds aren't supposed to do a lot of talking. And speaking of being newlyweds, I think Gwen and I will turn in. Our kids will be up at the crack of dawn.”

Gwen told Mallory, “He became an instant dad of three when he married me six months ago.”

Zane clasped his wife's hand and gave her a little tug toward him. “See you later,” he said, then added, “or maybe not. How about the four of us go out sometime? We can show Mallory some of San Antonio before Dawson gets back.”

Reed nodded, and Zane and Gwen left the great room, going down a hall toward a suite of rooms. After speaking to them a few minutes longer, Ryan also moved away to mingle.

Looking down at Mallory, Reed asked, “Would you like to get something to eat? Or go back to the cabin?”

Pretense wasn't her style. At least back at the cabin, they both knew where they stood. “It's been a long day. If you don't mind, I'd like to go back.”

“Everyone will understand if we leave.”

Because they were supposed to be on their honeymoon.

After a round of goodbyes and winks and smiles, they left. A full moon lighted their way as they drove back to the cabin. Once there, Mallory climbed out of the truck and took a deep breath of the night air. It was much different here than in San Francisco, starker in some ways, the beauty more primitive. But she liked it.

As they walked up the path to the front door, she made sure her elbow didn't touch Reed's, and as he opened the door and she passed by him, she made sure she didn't breathe in his scent or glance at his rugged profile. There was too much about Reed Fortune that she found as primitive as the Texas landscape.

Reed followed Mallory into the cabin. She had been quiet all evening, and he felt he had to address the reason. Apparently her mind had been on the same track as his because she stopped in the doorway to the bedroom. “How long were you engaged?”

Since he'd met Mallory, Stephanie had definitely gotten pushed to the background, and he was beginning to wonder why. After all, he'd planned a future with the woman and now, only a few days after their breakup, he seemed to be over her. The loyal, com
mitted type, he'd waited a long time to settle down. He should be more upset, but he didn't know how to explain that to Mallory.

“A year and a half,” he answered, hanging his Stetson on the rack by the door.

“Why did she break it off?”

“She married another man.”

“I see,” Mallory said quietly, and he could sense exactly what she was thinking—that she'd been absolutely right about him marrying her in a fit of pique or using her to salve a bruised ego. He couldn't tell her she was wrong.

“Do you want to take a shower?” she asked, changing the subject. “If you do, I'll go outside and wait.”

“Going outside alone at night isn't a good idea.”

“Then I can wait in the kitchen,” she said.

She was making it clear she didn't want to be anywhere near him. That not only annoyed him but made him angry, as well.

“You can wait in the living room and be comfortable while you're doing it. I'm not going to throw open the door to the bathroom, toss you on the bed, and have my way with you. Didn't I prove that already?”

“Although you explained what happened when we got back to your motel room, I don't have to believe it. Maybe you're the one who passed out first.”

Exasperated with the tension between them as well as with his desire for her, he snapped, “Wait where you want, Mallory. Just don't go outside alone, and keep the door locked.” His voice was rough and authoritative, and he could see that she didn't like it. It
didn't matter. He was going to keep her safe whether she wanted to be safe or not.

Moving away from the bedroom archway, she went into the kitchen, took a glass from the cupboard, and turned on the spigot.

Reed went to the bedroom and snatched a pair of sleeping shorts from the chest of drawers. She was a spoiled, pampered princess and he shouldn't care what she thought. Yet he did.

When he emerged from the bathroom fifteen minutes later, she was sitting at the small table, a sketch pad and pencil in hand.

“What are you doing?” he asked, trying to make conversation.

“Nothing important.”

Warning himself to be patient with her, he tried again. “You mentioned you did an apprenticeship. What kind?”

“I have a degree in interior design. I was working with an interior decorator.”

“You said your parents didn't like that idea?”

“My mother and my stepfather believed I should hide my degree under a bushel basket, play tennis, and attend charity functions.”

“Is that what Bentley wanted you to do, too?”

“I'm not sure what he wanted me to do. It seems I'm not a very good judge of men or their motives.”

Her tone, as well as the underlying meaning in her words, made Reed want to shake her or kiss her senseless. To keep himself from doing either, he went to the closet in the bedroom and took out a sheet and a pillow. Then he unfolded the sofa bed.

Standing, Mallory took her sketch pad and went into the bedroom.

He heard her moving around in there, then her footsteps as she went into the bathroom. After he lay on the sofa bed, he turned out the light on the end table. Unfortunately for him, he glanced toward the bedroom when he heard her come out of the bathroom and saw her outlined by the glow of her bedside lamp—every delectable curve was evident under her nightgown.

Swearing under his breath, he turned in the other direction, plumped his pillow, and knew this was going to be a very long night.

 

When Mallory awakened the following morning after a restless night, all too conscious that Reed had lain practically naked out on the sofa bed, she knew he wasn't in the cabin. Some sixth sense told her when he was close and when he wasn't. Sliding out of bed, she pulled on a robe, belted it, and went out to the kitchen. There was a note on the table.

Though she breathed a sigh of relief at Reed's absence, she missed his presence. It didn't make any sense.

After she brushed her teeth and showered, she
dressed and again sat at the table with her sketch pad, doodling, making a diagram of the cabin, filling in blank walls and empty spaces. She jotted down colors that would be the most striking and types of art she would use to decorate. When the door opened and Reed came in, she was surprised at how the time had flown. As he hung his hat on the rack, she saw his jeans were dusty and his shirt damp with sweat. His gaze swept over her shorts and blouse, the same outfit she'd worn last evening.

“I thought I'd give you a little time to yourself this morning,” he said.

“I appreciate that,” she returned politely.

He frowned. “Rosita and Ruben have invited us to an early Sunday dinner. Are you interested?”

“Are you?” she asked.

He let out an exasperated sigh. “We wouldn't have to cook, and their house is air-conditioned. Cruz and his wife and Dallas and Maggie will be there, so you won't have to worry about making conversation with me, though we should try to be cordial. Maybe a little more than cordial so they believe we
are
married.”

The phone rang. Since she was closer to it, she picked it up, glad for the interruption. But at her “Hello?” she heard an all-too-familiar voice.

“Mallory,” Winston said. “Are you feeling better?”

Remembering the scene in the motel parking lot in Reno, she gripped the phone tighter. “I was feeling just fine until you tried to kidnap me.”

“I know you saw it that way,” he said placatingly, “but you have to understand the position I was in. I'm a man of stature in San Francisco, Mallory. How
do you think I felt being stood up at the altar and left to explain where you were? Wouldn't any man be angry?”

“You still had no right to try to force me into the car with you.”

Silence met her. “I still want to marry you, Mallory. No other woman has ever been as important to me as you are.”

Maybe because she could see Winston more clearly now, she heard the manipulation in his voice. He would do or say anything to get what he wanted and maybe more than that if he had to. She glanced at Reed. “I'm already married, Winston.”

“You married Reed Fortune as some sort of rebellion. I can forgive you that, Mallory. I can also give you time if that's what you need. I want you to think about the life we could share here in San Francisco and, when you're ready, I'll be here waiting for you.”

If she'd thought Winston was going to give up, she'd been wrong. “Winston, it's not going to happen.”

As if he didn't hear her, he continued. “I can be a very patient man, Mallory. Give me a call any time, day or night, and I'll come for you.”