“I do. I remember him and his wife, the judge...”
She nodded, her eyes staring blankly into the middle distance again. “I stood beside you, Will. I remember that. I stood beside you under the moon. We were holding hands, and people were all around us, and Her Honor, the judge, was in front of us. And after that...”
“Yeah?”
A long, sad sigh escaped her. “After that, it’s all a blank.”
He couldn’t bear to see her looking so dejected, so he got up and went to her. She didn’t jump away when he sat down beside her, and that gave him the courage to wrap an arm around her. “You have to look on the bright side.”
She made a doleful sound. “There’s a bright side?”
“Yes, there is. Think about it. You saved yourself for marriage—and, well, if we had sex, we have proof that we were married at the time.”
At first, she said nothing, only eased out from under his sheltering arm and faced him. Her expression was not encouraging. Finally, she demanded, “That’s the bright side?”
He knew he’d stepped in it again. He gulped. “Er, it’s not?”
Proudly, she informed him, “You don’t get it, Will. It’s not marriage I was waiting for. It’s love. Or if not love, then at least special.”
He nervously scratched the side of his neck. “Ahem. Special?”
“Yes. Special. That’s what I waited for, something really special with a special, special man. And I have to tell you that having sex with you while unconscious is not the kind of special I was going for—plus, just because we woke up with rings on doesn’t mean we’re really married. Don’t you need a license to be really married?”
He gave her a long look as he wondered if he should even go there. And then he threw caution to the wind and asked, “So if there was a license, you would believe that our marriage was real?”
She narrowed her eyes at him. “Is that a trick question?”
“Stay right there.”
“Where are you going?” she demanded crossly as he got up, turned around and crawled across the mattress. “What are you doing?”
He crawled back, swung his legs to the floor so he was sitting beside her again—and held out the marriage license. “Believe it. It’s real.”
* * *
Jordyn read the document over several times before she could let herself believe what she was seeing.
Again, she remembered the skinny little clerk and his pink Cadillac, that briefcase where he kept those official documents. He could so easily have kept a box of cheap rings in there, too...
Will said, “So you see. I think it’s real. I think we really are married.”
Married. To Will Clifton.
She looked up into his worried eyes—and knew she couldn’t bear another minute, another second of sitting there beside him trying to pin down what, exactly, had happened last night. “Here.” She shoved the license at him. “I’ve had enough.” She jumped to her feet, ran to the sofa in the sitting area and snatched up her dress and shoes from where he’d set them before they ate.
“Jordyn, come on. We need to stay calm. We need to—”
“Stop talking, Will.”
“But—”
“Stop. Please. I can’t take any more. I’ve got to get dressed. I’ve got to get out of here.” And with that, she ran into the bathroom and shut and locked the door.
* * *
“The county courthouse and offices are closed for the three-day weekend.” Will eased his quad cab to the curb in front of Strickland’s Boarding House. “They open again tomorrow. First thing in the morning, we’ll head for Kalispell and straighten this craziness out. Maybe that license isn’t even filed yet. Maybe we can make this whole thing just go away.”
Jordyn stared out the windshield. For the moment, the street was quiet. No kids out playing, no neighbors working in their yards or walking their dogs. If she moved fast, she might get up the steps and in the front door before anyone spotted her going in wearing the same blue dress and high heels she’d been wearing the night before.
Will caught her arm as she leaned on the door handle. “Jordyn. Tomorrow?”
She gulped and nodded. “Yes. Tomorrow morning. Okay.”
He stared in her eyes as though looking for a sign from her—but a sign of what? She had no clue. His cell started ringing, which was great because he let her go.
“Tomorrow,” he said again, the phone already at his ear.
She made her escape, jumping to the sidewalk, shoving the door shut and then turning to sprint along the walk and up the stairs of the ramshackle four-story Victorian. She had her key out and ready when she hit the door. All she wanted was to get in and get up the two sets of stairs to her room on the third floor without having to talk to a soul.
But no.
As she fumbled to stick the key in the lock, the door swung open. Sweet old Melba Strickland, who owned and ran the boardinghouse, stood on the other side wearing one of those floral-patterned dresses she favored and a pair of very sensible shoes. Melba was at least eighty, but spry. She had a warm heart, a willing hand—and a staunch moral code.
Melba believed in the power of love. She also believed that sex should only occur between two people married in the sight of God and man. She’d made it way clear from Jordyn’s first day at the rooming house almost two years ago now that there would be no hanky-panky on the premises. Yes, it was the twenty-first century, and Melba’s old-fashioned ideas didn’t stop her tenants from hooking up, anyway. They just did it discreetly.
Coming home in the middle of the afternoon in last night’s bridesmaid’s dress, looking like something the cat dragged in?
Not exactly discreet.
“Honey, are you all right?” Melba took Jordyn’s hand and pulled her inside. “When you didn’t come down for breakfast, I assumed you just needed a little extra sleep after the big party last night. By eleven or so, though, I began to worry. You’re not the kind to sleep half the day away.” Jordyn saw no judgment in Melba’s eyes—nothing but affection and honest concern.
Again, the image of her and Will in front of Carmen Lutello last night rose up in her mind’s eye. Had Melba been there?
No. If she had, she would have known why Jordyn didn’t come down for breakfast. Plus, it had happened pretty late in the evening, hadn’t it? Melba and her husband, Old Gene, rarely stayed up past ten.
Melba patted her hand. “Darling, what’s wrong? What’s happened? You look so pale.”
“I’m all right,” she baldly lied. “There’s nothing wrong.”
“Have you eaten?” The old woman started herding Jordyn toward the arch to the dining room.
“I had some tea and toast.” Gently, Jordyn eased free of Melba’s grip. “I’m not hungry.”
“You sure, now?”
“Yes. I’ll, um, be down later and get something then.” She headed for the stairs and took them at a near run, never once pausing or glancing back until she’d reached the third-floor landing, where she halted, breathing fast, her stomach roiling, listening for the sound of Melba’s sensible shoes coming up behind her.
But Melba stayed below. With a sigh of relief, Jordyn hurried along the third-floor hall to her room. She’d barely shut the door and sagged against it when her cell started ringing.
“What now?” She dug it out of her clutch and tossed the clutch on the dresser nearby. The display read Will. Just Will. She couldn’t remember having Will’s cell number—and if she had, she’d have programmed in his last name.
Which was now her last name.
“Oh, God.” With an unhappy moan, she answered it. “How did you get my number?”
“I have no idea. I’m guessing we probably exchanged numbers last night.”
“Of course.” They’d exchanged so much
last night. Phone numbers. Wedding vows. Possibly bodily fluids. She moaned again.
“Jordyn, are you okay?”
“No, I am not. Where are you, Will?”
“Out in front, in my pickup.”
“Why aren’t you gone yet?”
“Because I got a call from Craig.” Craig was the oldest of Will’s brothers.
“Why does that sound like very bad news?”
“Look. I just think you should know. Craig was there last night, when we got married. So was half the town, apparently.”
Half the town? Lovely. Half the town knew more than she did about what she and Will had done last night. “I know there were people there. I told you that. This isn’t news, Will.”
“Yeah, it kind of is.” He sounded scarily grim.
She kicked off her sparkly shoes and slid down the door till her butt hit the floor. “Just tell me.”
“Craig says everyone’s talking about it, about the ceremony in the park, about our, um, smoking-hot kiss—you know, the one that sealed our vows?”
Her headache had come back. With a vengeance. “So we kissed. Of course we kissed. That’s what you do when you get married. Is that all?”
“Er, no.”
“Then what else?”
“We made the Rust Creek Falls Gazette.”
“What are you talking about, Will? I don’t understand...”
“Apparently, there’s this column called Rust Creek Ramblings written by some mystery gossip columnist. Does that ring a bell?”
Nobody knew who the columnist was, but he or she always had the scoop, was always outing the personal, intimate and romantic business of people in town. A low moan escaped Jordyn. “Oh, no...”
“Yeah. Craig says this morning’s column is all about you and me. All about our surprise wedding. It’s, uh, not all that flattering, Craig says.”
“Not all that flattering. What does that mean?”
“I’m not sure yet. I’m going to go get a copy of the Gazette and find out.”
Jordyn cast a longing glance at her bed with its pretty white eyelet bedspread. All she wanted at that moment was to get in and pull the covers over her head.
“Jordyn, we really need to talk some more. We need to give careful consideration to how we want to handle this. We have to—”
“Will.”
“Yeah?”
“I need some rest.” She was going to take a hot shower, crawl under the covers and not come out for a year.
“All right,” he said resignedly.
“Thank you.”
And then he just had to remind her, “Tomorrow. First thing. We’re going to Kalispell, remember? I’ll pick you up at eight.”
“I remember. I’ll be ready.” She hung up.
About then, it occurred to her that she was expected at work tomorrow. She would need the day off, and the sooner she called in, the better. She autodialed Sara, one of her two bosses at Country Kids Day Care Center.
“This is Sara Johnston.”
“Hi, Sara, it’s Jordyn Leigh.”
“Hey! What a party yesterday, huh? I hear congratulations are in order...”
Jordyn, still on the floor in front of the door, put a soothing hand on her iffy stomach and wished her head would stop hurting. “I, um, yeah. Thank you. It was something, wasn’t it?” she offered lamely.
“I just wish I’d been there. Suzie told me.” Suzie Johnston was Sara’s twin sister and her partner in the day care. “Suzie said it was so romantic, and you and your new husband looked so happy together. He’s from Thunder Canyon, I understand. Just like you.”
“Uh, yeah. I’ve known him since we were kids.”
“He’s one of Cecelia’s brothers, right?” Cecelia Clifton Pritchett used to live at Melba’s boardinghouse, too. So had Cece’s new husband, Nick. Sara said, “His name’s Will, right?”
“That’s right—and Sara, listen, I called because I kind of need to take the day off tomorrow...” Jordyn’s voice trailed off as she realized that she would have to tell Sara something about why she needed the day. She gathered her courage to explain everything.
But Sara believed that Jordyn was a real newlywed. “Take the week, if you need it. Be with your new hubby. Enjoy every minute. Have yourselves a honeymoon, for goodness’ sake.”
“You’re an angel.” And I ought to have the integrity to tell you the truth. But she didn’t. She couldn’t. Not right now. She’d deal with all that later. “I just need tomorrow. I’ll be in Tuesday.”
“You’re sure?”
“Positive.”
“If you change your mind, just call. We can manage if you need the time.”
“Thanks so much.”
“You’re so welcome—and Jordyn Leigh, you be happy, you and your new husband, you hear? It all goes by so fast, believe me.” Sara’s voice held the weight of sadness now. She’d lost her husband in a car accident when their youngest was only a baby. “You need to treasure every moment the good Lord gives you together.”
“Thanks, Sara. I will.” The good Lord was probably up in heaven shaking His head.
Still, Jordyn let Sara believe what she wanted to. Eventually, the moment of truth would come, and Jordyn would face it. At least by then she’d be done with this awful hangover.
Sara said goodbye at last. Jordyn disconnected the call, dragged herself to her feet, grabbed her shower caddy and her robe and headed for the bathroom at the end of the hall.
* * *
Feeling pretty damn bad about everything, Will drove the two blocks to Crawford’s General Store to get a copy of the Rust Creek Falls Gazette. The coin-operated rack by the entrance was empty, so he went inside to ask where else to get a paper.
Mrs. Crawford had a stack of them by the register. She took his money and congratulated him on his marriage. “I hope you and Jordyn Leigh will be very happy together.” She seemed sincere enough.
Will thanked her, stuck the paper under his arm and turned to go. But he just happened to walk down the center aisle on his way out, the one lined with canned goods of every variety.
Two middle-aged ladies stood chatting in that aisle. One was tall and heavyset, the other thin with gray hair pulled back into a tight little bun. They didn’t see him coming, they were so wrapped up in gossiping together.
The tall one clucked her tongue. “It’s a disgrace is what it is. Two virtual strangers, that’s what I heard.” Will hesitated several feet away, dread creeping like a spider down his spine. Neither lady turned to see him standing there. The tall one went on, “They got married in a drunken stupor right there in Rust Creek Park at eleven o’clock last night.”
The thin one said, “I heard that the blushing bride is one of those desperate Gal Rush women. Came to town looking for a husband during reconstruction after the flood.”
“Well, and now she’s caught one.”
“Hah. But not for long, I’ll bet. My guess is the groom’s probably already running for the hills like his hair’s on fire.”
The tall one chortled merrily.
And Will knew he couldn’t let that stand. So what if he and Jordyn were planning to end their unexpected marriage ASAP? Didn’t matter. He wasn’t standing by and having the sweet, spunky girl he’d grown up with disrespected.
“It’s a disgrace to the institution of marriage,” declared the thin one with an angry sniff.
That did it. Will walked right up to them. “Excuse me, ladies.” He tipped his hat. Looking startled, they both turned to stare at him. He said, “It so happens that you are misinformed.”
“Well, I never...” said the tall one.
“Really?” The thin one sneered.
“Yes,” he said. “Really. You see, I’m the groom you were just now discussi
ng.” He offered the tall one his hand. “Will Clifton.” She took it limply then quickly let go. “Pleased to meet you.” He gave her his warmest smile and turned to the skinny one. “Ma’am.” The thin one blinked several times in rapid succession before briefly taking his offered hand.
As soon as she released his fingers, Will swept off his hat and pressed it to his heart. “Have a good look now, ladies.” He tipped his chin down so they had a clear view of every hair on his head. “Not a spark, not an ember, not one whiff of smoke. My hair is not on fire, so you got that all wrong. As a matter of fact, I’m a local now. I’ve bought the old Dodson place east of town. I’m going nowhere. Why would I want to? Rust Creek Falls is my home. And that’s not all. I don’t know where you’ve been getting your information, but someone has been telling you lies. Because my new wife and I did not marry impulsively.”
Well, who was to say about that? Neither he nor Jordyn remembered their exact states of mind at the time they’d said their vows.
He continued, “Jordyn Leigh and I are both from Thunder Canyon. We are by no means strangers to one another. In fact, we’ve known each other since we were children. Our families are very good friends. I’m the happiest man in the world right now, because I love my wife with all my heart, and the day has finally come when she is mine.” Yeah, all right. The love stuff was total crap. But so what?
It worked.
The tall lady sputtered out, “Well, I...erm...” and then couldn’t figure out what to say next.
The thin one looked like she’d swallowed a lemon.
Will put his hat back on. “Real nice to meet you ladies. Have a great day, now.” He took his Gazette out from under his arm, gave them a final wave with it and headed for the door.
Once back in his quad cab, he dropped the paper on the passenger seat and got the hell out of there. A few minutes later, he was pulling into the parking lot at Maverick Manor a few miles down the highway, southeast of town. He didn’t open that paper until he was safe in his room.
The Maverick's Accidental Bride (Montana Mavericks: What Happened At The Wedding Book 1) (Contemporary Cowboy Romance) Page 3
