Million-Dollar Bride

by Karen Toller Whittenburg

  “Ready, Eliza?” Mack’s voice lacked enthusiasm, and she tried to make her answer sound just as lackluster.

  “Oh, absolutely,” she said…and the next thing she knew he had scooped her roughly up in his arms. She barely got her hands around his neck before he was striding into the motel room with all the eagerness of a farmer on his way to clean out the chicken house. “Thanks, Sheriff Tim and Deputy Jim,” she called over his shoulder. “This was really very nice of you!”

  Mack clipped the door with his foot, sending it slamming shut on her words and the two men outside. In two strides, he reached the bed and dropped her onto it. The whole bedstead squeaked and wobbled under her weight. She braced her arms on the mattress and watched uneasily as Mack stepped back and looked around, his gaze ticking off the non-amenities of the Hay Capitol Motel.

  “Hmm,” he said. “How many stars do you suppose this place rates in the hotel guide?”

  “I doubt it’s listed.”

  “Really?” His critical gaze swung back to her. “Now, how could an oversight like that happen?”

  “There’s no reason to be hateful, Mack. This isn’t exactly where I wanted to spend my honeymoon, either.”

  “Don’t you mean our honeymoon?”

  She flounced across the bed and bounced to her feet on the other side. “Look, it seemed like a good idea at the time. In fact, it seemed like the only idea at the time. If you had just let me faint, I might have been able to get us out of there unscathed.”

  He raised his eyebrows. “Unscathed? Did you say unscathed? Since I met you—an unbelievably long twelve hours ago—I have been kidnapped, robbed, stripped of my clothes and my dignity, punched, pinched, shot, bitten, whapped with a frying pan and thrown in jail for indecent exposure. That is not exactly a fair definition of unscathed.”

  “This hasn’t exactly been a picnic for me, either.”

  “Oh, right, I forgot. You did get scared by that cow.”

  “And married. Don’t forget that.”

  He massaged his forehead. “I’m likely to remember for the rest of my life.”

  “Well, I should hope so. You should be glad to have something like this to tell your grandchildren someday. I certainly am.”

  His hand slid to rub his jaw as he stared at her, taking in the saucy way her hair curled over her shoulder, the crimped, unflattering fit of the pink shirtwaist that couldn’t quite conceal the full, lovely shape of her body, the spark of optimism in her wide gray eyes, the I-dare-you-to-make-a-mountain-out-of-a-molehill tilt of her chin. She had caused him untold trouble tonight, but just looking at her made him feel like a damn hero.

  But then, he was an idiot. “Why would you ever tell anyone about that sham of a ceremony?”

  One delicately curved eyebrow rose to challenge him. “Why wouldn’t I? It was a beautiful little wedding in its own funny way. I mean, think about it. How many people get to have decorations made out of yellow streamers with the words Warning. Do Not Cross. Crime Scene. on them? The bride wore pink, the groom was in jail-house orange. The flowers were sunflowers…which was in keeping with the color theme. Instead of wedding cake and champagne, the refreshments were coffee and day-old doughnuts. I know this is dumb, but I actually got a lump in my throat when Reverend Robson and Sheriff Tim harmonized singing, ‘On Top of Old Smoky’.”

  “That was a magic moment.”

  The corners of her mouth tightened. “Fine. Be that way. I’m just trying to see the bright side of all this. And before you jump in with another round of cynical comments, just let me say that if I had wanted to marry you, I’d think our wedding was full of the most romantic, precious memories I could ever hope to have.”

  There wasn’t much he could say to that, not without offending her…or agreeing with her. And he wasn’t quite fool enough to do either. “Look, if you don’t mind, I’d like to try and call Leanne again.”

  Eliza felt like he’d punched her in the stomach, but she concealed her reaction with an indifferent shrug. “Why would I mind?”

  “I meant, I’d prefer to make this call with a little privacy.”

  “Oh…” She realized she was in the way. “Oh, of course. I’ll just go in the, uh, bathroom.”

  He picked up the phone and didn’t even thank her for her understanding. It would serve him right if she just sat on the bed and stared at him while he made the call, but that would be petty and pointless. So she walked into the bathroom, which was small enough to qualify as a closet with a toilet, a sink, a mirror and a shower stall crammed inside. Not exactly the honeymoon suite. Her spirits dropped like a lead balloon. She never should have made fun of train travel.

  “That’s right. This is a collect call from MacKenzie Cortland.” Mack propped the phone receiver on his shoulder and pulled out the drawer of the bedside table. Empty, except for an outdated catalog. He closed the drawer and looked around for something with an address or area code on it. Nothing. He didn’t even know what town he was in. Cabin 5 of the Hay Capitol Motel in Sheridan County, Kansas, seemed to be the extent of his information, and he hoped it would be sufficient. On the other end of the line, he heard the phone ring once, then again, and he framed the opening words of his apology.

  “Hello?” It was Leanne’s voice, alert and curt.

  “Leanne,” he began, only to be interrupted by the operator.

  “Collect call from MacKenzie Cortland. Will you accept the charges?”

  There was a moment of silence and then Leanne said, “Never heard of him.” And she hung up.

  “I’m sorry, sir,” the operator said. “She wouldn’t accept the call.”

  “Try again, please.” He glanced toward the bathroom, where he could see Eliza’s reflection in the mirror. She was leaning against the wall, her arms crossed, her head bent, her dark hair falling seductively forward on either side of her face. She looked pale and unhappy, and he was ashamed of himself for blaming her for everything. Just because she hadn’t handled the situation the way he thought she should have didn’t mean he was exempt from responsibility. Much as he hated to admit it, most of the burden of failure belonged to him. He could have made better choices. Would have, no doubt, if his head hadn’t been pounding like a sledgehammer. Still, he couldn’t believe he’d actually stood there and said “I do.” Wouldn’t jail have been preferable? What had he been thinking? And how was he going to—

  “I’m sorry, sir.” The operator’s voice intruded on his thoughts. “No one is answering.”

  He sighed and wished Leanne wasn’t so inflexible. “Please, try one more time, and let it ring as long as you can.”

  Eliza lifted her head, and her gaze met his in the mirror. She looked startled to find him watching her, but then, almost as if she had no control over it, a tentative smile tipped the corners of her mouth… a smile that offered encouragement, support and simple respect. And with that shy, hesitant and unexpected response, his frustration slowly abated. As bad as this night had been, he couldn’t regret it, not when Eliza was so determined to make the best of the situation. Not when he thought about how glad he was, at this particular moment, not to be on a train to Miami.

  He moved his head, silently asking Eliza to join him. She looked confused, and he raised his hand to motion for her to come out of the bathroom. She wrinkled her nose in indecision. He raised his shoulders in an exaggerated shrug. She pursed her lips. He made a face. And then she came out of seclusion.

  “Sir?” The operator returned. “I’m sorry, but I don’t believe anyone is going to answer.”

  He nodded. “Thank you for trying.” He hung up. “She won’t take the call.”

  “Did she know it was you?”

  He leaned back against the headboard. “I’m pretty certain that’s why she won’t take the call.”

  “I don’t understand. If I were in her place, I’d be so glad just to hear from you.”

  That odd tightness in his chest returned. “Would you, Eliza? Even if I’d ruined the most important day of
your life?”

  “Don’t be silly. What could be more important than knowing you’re all right?” She plopped down on the bed beside him. “Try again. She must have been asleep or something and not understood the call was from you.”

  He looked at her generous, persuasive smile and wondered what it would be like to fall in love with someone who believed so completely, so compellingly, that there was good in every situation and that there was at least one redeeming quality in every person.

  “Here, I’ll do it.” She leaned across him, reaching for the phone and sending a shock of awareness through him as her breasts brushed innocently, but oh, so tantalizingly, across his chest. “What’s her number?”

  His eyebrows shot up and he tried to adjust his position on the bed so he could withdraw from temptation without attracting undo attention. “You can’t call Leanne.”

  “Why not? She won’t talk to you.”

  “No, and she isn’t going to talk to you, either.” He plumped a lumpy pillow and stuffed it between his back and the headboard, taking care to keep his chest separated from Eliza’s by at least a quarter of an inch or so. “Call your family, instead, and let them know you’re all right.”

  She shrugged off the suggestion. “There’s only Auntie Gem, and it’s too late to call her. I’d only scare her to death. Come on, tell me the number. I’ll bet I can get Leanne to talk to you.”

  “Trust me, Eliza. Drop it.”

  “Are you sure? I’m a pretty good persuader.”

  If she were half as good at persuading as she was at explanations, he figured she could fix it so Leanne would never speak to him again. Come to think of it, maybe he should let her call. “It doesn’t matter if you do get her to answer. She’s not going to listen to anything I have to say tonight.”

  Eliza’s dark eyes flashed doubt, and Mack decided he was getting out of the Pollyanna-protector business. “All right,” he said and told her the number. “You’ll need to call collect. I don’t think Sheriff Tim thought we’d be needing any long-distance credit on our motel tab.”

  “Don’t worry.” She punched in a long series of numbers. “I have a phone card. I knew someday I’d be glad I memorized the number. Ssh, it’s ringing.”

  She leaned back against the headboard beside him and held the receiver away from her ear so he could hear that it was, indeed, ringing. He shrugged, settled back and waited to say he’d told her so.

  “Operator, I told you I don’t know this man. Now stop annoying me with these phone calls!” Leanne’s voice blasted out of the receiver, and Mack sat up so fast he bumped his head on the wall sconce that hung directly over the bed.

  “Leanne?” Eliza said, happily giving him a thumbs-up sign as she clapped the receiver against her ear. “Hi. This isn’t the operator. This is Eliza. Eliza Rich ards…we met on the church steps today? I knew you’d be concerned about Mack, and I just wanted you to know that he’s fine. He’s had kind of a rough night, but he’s feeling much better and there’s nothing for you to worry about. Well, no, of course you don’t have to worry if you don’t…Look, just talk to him for a minute. Here….” She thrust the phone re ceiver at Mack.

  He took it and held it as if it were a live grenade. “Leanne?” he said cautiously.

  “Who is that?” she demanded, without a nuance of concern in her clipped, accusing tones.

  He frowned. “Eliza?”

  “I know her name, Mack. I want to know where you are and what she is doing there with you.”

  He first felt anger at her accusatory tone and then a slowly building resentment that she had so little respect for his character. “I’m at the Hay Capitol Motel,” he said distinctly. “And at this precise moment, Eliza and I are sharing a bed.”

  “You son of a bitch. Isn’t it bad enough that you humiliated me and disgraced your family by running away with that woman? Did you have to call and make certain I’m suffering because of your betrayal?”

  He clenched his fist around the phone receiver. “I did not betray you, Leanne.”

  “Oh, right,” she said in that awful nasal voice she used whenever she wanted to put someone in his place. “I am not stupid, Mack. I saw the way you looked at her. And I will never—”

  “I was kidnapped,” he cut in tersely.

  “—forgive you,” she continued without a break. “Do you understand? Never! You’ve made your bed, so lie in it and leave me alone!”

  The phone hummed in his ear and he stared at the receiver, conscious only of the wish that he’d been quick enough to hang up on her first. He tossed the receiver toward its cradle and didn’t much care when it clattered across the table and fell to the floor. “I think I liked it better when she wasn’t answering.”

  Eliza scooped the hair up off her nape and pushed it into a dark, disheveled cluster on top of her head. “I guess she was a little upset, huh?”

  He shrugged. “A little. She didn’t buy the kidnapping story.”

  Eliza released her hair and it fell in a dusky cloud about her shoulders. “Are you surprised?”

  “Not especially. Leanne is not a particularly good listener.”

  “After that crack about the motel and sharing the bed with me, I can’t say I blame her. Honestly, Mack, what possessed you to say such a thing?”

  “Gee, Eliza, I don’t know.” He yanked the pillow from behind his back and pumped some air into it with a few quick jabs. “Maybe I’m just not as good a ‘persuader’ as you.”

  “Now, look, it isn’t my fault she wouldn’t listen.”

  He glanced at her, then plopped the pillow at the head of the bed and slid down so his head fell on it. “No, how could that be your fault?” Settling his hands behind his head, he stared, frustrated and angry, at the ceiling. “And even if I could prove it was, I am not stupid enough to get into that kind of argument with you now.”

  The bed jiggled as she twisted around to look at him. “Why not now? You brought it up.”

  “Not now, Eliza, because now is almost two in the morning. It has been a very long night and I intend to take Leanne’s advice and lie in the bed I made for myself. I suggest you do the same.”

  “What are you saying? That I should lie in this bed with you?”

  “As there’s only this one bed, that would seem logical.”

  “Logical? You think sharing a bed is logical?”

  “Yes, I do.”

  “Well, that doesn’t make much sense.”

  “I don’t see why not. We are married and married people generally share a bed.”

  “We are not married and you know it. That ceremony, even if it was legal, was not real.”

  He closed his eyes against the dull pain in his head…or was it his heart that was hurting? “It was real, Eliza, and it was legal. What did you think you were signing when the sheriff shoved that license in front of you?”

  “Your release papers? I don’t know. I didn’t really think about it. It seemed like the quickest, most-efficient way of getting you out of jail.”

  “And now you’re having second thoughts and wishing you’d left me to rot in that cell.” The bed jiggled again and he felt her gaze on him.

  “No,” she said. “I’d do it all over again if I thought it was necessary. All I’m saying is that you didn’t make a true commitment to me and you’re not bound by anything you said during the ceremony, and it’s really not in your best interest to sleep with me.”

  “Really? What’s going to happen to me? A knee in the kidneys? A fist in the face? A foot in the backside?”

  “Leanne is going to kill you.”

  “Not until I’ve had at least a couple of hours sleep.”

  “That isn’t the point, Mack.”

  He opened his eyes and looked at her, all solemn and earnest and appealing. “Eliza, I am going to lie here and try my best to fall asleep. And it would be in your best interest to do the same.”

  “I can’t sleep. Not now.”

  “Okay, lie there and stare at the ceili
ng.”

  “I can’t do that, either. Then I’ll just worry about you and Leanne and Mrs. Pageatt and the police and Chuck and the million-dollar dress. You know, I really should be out looking for it right now.”

  “No, you shouldn’t. Please lie down and rest a little.”

  “No. I’ve got to straighten out this mess.”

  His sigh was long and patient. “Eliza, could we just keep life simple for a little while? No explanations, no worrying about what needs to happens next. Just a couple of hours of no-fault sleep?”

  “I’m sorry, Mack, but I cannot sleep with you.”

  “How about beside me?”

  She frowned down at him and shook her head, as if he were dense. “It will just complicate everything. Don’t you understand? If you have any hope of straightening out your relationship with Leanne, then one of us has to leave. Now.”

  “I have no hope. I have only a headache.”

  “But you see what I’m saying, don’t you?”

  He pushed up and braced his weight on his elbows. “Would it help if I strung a blanket down the middle of the bed?”

  She shook her head. “I saw that movie, and Clark Gable only got away with it because there were twin beds in the room. Besides, it wouldn’t matter. I don’t think Leanne will believe that we stayed in the same cabin and just slept, even if we were in separate beds.”

  “Eliza, in the past several hours, we’ve been stripped naked and tied back-to-back. We’ve tumbled around a haystack in our birthday suits and stumbled into the farmyard of Annie Oakley without a stitch to call our own. Do you honestly think it matters if we sleep in the same bed?”

  “It will matter to your fiancee.”

  “I don’t have a fiancee. I have a wife. Now, let’s get some sleep, shall we?”

  “I’ll sleep in the bathroom, then.”

  “No, you won’t.” He grabbed her hand before she could bounce her way off the bed. With a single tug, he pulled her off balance and she toppled down beside him, warm, sweet-smelling and vulnerable. “I’m sure you would stand in that bathroom until daybreak just so you could honestly say that we didn’t sleep together. But that isn’t necessary and it isn’t going to happen. I promise never to reveal to another living soul what happens in this bed if you’ll just stay here and get some rest. Now, can you live with that kind of compromise?”