Run, Run, Runaway Bride

by Diamond, Jacqueline

  “Which makes him a bald-faced liar, right?” With an effort Kieran managed not to double over with laughter. "So you drove to a remote spot and decided to hook up with Flatfoot for protection?"

  "Bigfoot," she corrected.

  Despite the pleasure of toying with her, he had to admit it wasn’t funny that the guy was after her. "If he's such a threat, why isn't he locked up?"

  "He posted bail," Samantha said. "I complained to the D.A.'s office but they haven’t been very helpful."

  "You're probably leaving a trail a mile wide," Kieran told her. "Use a little caution, like staying away from your old friends."

  Her rocking sped up, the glider springs creaking as if to express her irritation. "I have been cautious. I didn't tell anyone about my new job or apartment, but Hank found me.”

  “What about your friend last night?”

  “Mary Anne had no idea I was here; she showed up by coincidence. The problem is that Hank's got a partner, someone the police haven't identified. I think the guy must be a computer whiz. "

  "I see the problem." Kieran eased down beside her on the glider, wedging his hip against hers. She squirmed, but had nowhere to move. "You planned to sign me up as your marital bodyguard, then dump me?"

  "No!" she protested. "I mean, I planned to tell you the truth before we got married."

  He supposed that might seem fair, from her perspective. "Why’d you change your mind?"

  "Marriage is too complicated," Samantha answered. "I'll go to Vegas and hide out there."

  "Get a waitress job?" Kieran suggested. "At one of the casinos?"

  “Sure.”

  "They screen their help so thoroughly they'll record every groove of your fingerprints and whether your navel is an innie or an outie," he told her. "Hank's computer-whiz pal if will pinpoint you within hours."

  "Got a better idea?" grumbled Samantha.

  "Marry me."

  "Right."

  He stretched his legs, bumping hers. "You can leave whenever you like. No strings attached. Well, maybe one."

  "I can guess." She scowled.

  “Not sex, unless you choose it.” The idea that he’d pressure a woman against her will irritated Kieran. “What do you take me for?”

  She dodged the question. “What’s the string, then?”

  "You have to accompany me to San Diego next Tuesday and sign a quitclaim."

  “What’s that?”

  “A document relinquishing your right to a deed.” Time to explain. "My cousin Beatrice claims she should have inherited the property. She's questioning my uncle's soundness of mind and whether he really intended to disinherit her. He did, by the way."

  "Where do I fit in?"

  "The will specified that the property was to go to me and my wife." Kieran grimaced. "When Uncle Albert wrote the will, I was engaged and he was quite fond of my fiancée. My lawyer says that provision is null and void, but Beatrice claims my being a bachelor invalidates the will."

  "That’s why you want a wife," Samantha murmured. “Is this really important?”

  "If she prevails in her suit, I could lose Hidden Hot Springs." Kieran caught his breath. It was the first time he had spoken those words aloud. “My men have followed me into this, trusted me, invested their labor and their savings. I can’t let them down.”

  Samantha stared across the yard. “That would be awful. But can’t you prove your uncle was sane? There must be character witnesses."

  "Albert was a modern-day hermit." The man had avoided socializing as if people were poison. But when Kieran had visited, he’d found his uncle alert and well aware of what was happening in the world. "My best bet lies right around here. I saw him writing in a diary, which I've never been able to find. It's possible he destroyed it, but I doubt that.”

  "People hardly ever destroy their diaries,” she agreed. “It's their bid for immortality."

  She spoke as if his problem had become hers. The woman had a kind heart, Kieran thought. And while he didn’t mean to take advantage, as long as she was hiding here, she could put her time to good use. “I’d appreciate if you’d help me look," he said. "In any case, if I can chip away at the suit, it can’t hurt.”

  “By marrying me?”

  “Why not?” The longer they talked, the more he liked the idea. “On a short-term basis, which ought to suit your purposes.”

  "Let me see if I get this straight. You're willing to marry me for a month?"

  "That's right. Then we can have it annulled, since it isn’t truly a valid marriage." He wondered if he'd missed some potential complication. "Once we’re husband and wife, my men will leap to your defense if Hank shows up. I'll help you myself if it doesn't interfere with my work."

  "Gee, thanks."

  "It's what they call a win-win situation."

  "What about that quitclaim?” Samantha prodded.

  “You’d be signing over to me any claim you might have to Hidden Hot Springs.” He’d hate to wind up dealing with yet another greedy woman, not that Samantha bore any resemblance to Beatrice. “It isn't actually mine any longer, anyway. What hasn't been signed over to my men has been put up as security to the banks."

  She shifted position in the glider, brushing him in the process. If they were married, he’d pull her onto his lap…Better not go there.

  Her next words jolted him out of his musings. “Now as for my terms ..."

  "Your terms are that you get protected, and go free in the end."

  "That’s not all."

  He was a reasonable man. "And you can plan whatever kind of wedding you want as long as it doesn’t cost an arm and a leg.” Better qualify that. “I draw the line at skydiving.”

  “Aw, shoot.” She smiled. “My terms are, I don’t have to cook or clean unless I feel like it.”

  “Fair enough,” he conceded. “And let’s do it before Tuesday."

  "How about today?"

  While Kieran admired efficiency, this was pushing matters a bit. "Aren't there a few, well, accessories we'll need?"

  Samantha peered at him impishly. "I've already got the wedding dress. Slightly used."

  Kieran had saved a tuxedo from his ballroom-dancing forays years ago. It was stored with other rarely used possessions in a spare closet at the office.

  If she could leap without looking, so could he. "What are we waiting for?"

  *

  The tantalizing aroma of charcoal on the grill wafted into the bathhouse. "I hope we have enough potato chips to go with the hamburgers," Samantha said.

  Beth glanced up from pinning the hem on the wedding dress. In the past few weeks since fleeing, Samantha had lost five pounds, which made the dress hang differently. "They've got truckloads of potato chips."

  "And cole slaw. You never saw so much cole slaw!" said Mary Anne as she arranged a bouquet of wildflowers over one of the sinks. "I can't believe I didn't bring my bridesmaid's dress."

  "Why on earth would you?" demanded Samantha. "You didn't know I’d be here, let alone that I'd get married."

  "I should call Alice. She’ll feel awful if she misses this.” Mary Anne caught herself. "I'm sorry. Of course I can't tell anyone."

  "You'll be hearing wedding bells yourself pretty soon," Samantha teased, and her friend blushed.

  “How about me?” Beth feigned hurt feelings.

  "You will, for sure." An appealing thought occurred to Samantha. "We'll be neighbors! The three cabins are close together.”

  The other women exchanged glances. "How close?" asked Beth.

  Samantha threw back her head and laughed, then had to readjust her hat. "We'll have privacy, I assure you." Her friends looked relieved.

  *

  The men and women pitched in to decorate the rec hall. It hadn't been used as a church in years, Kieran informed Samantha, but with its lovely stained-glass window, it was perfect for a wedding.

  White crepe paper draped the walls, and flowers mixed with greenery were set about in pots. Entering with Beth and Mary Anne, Sam
antha felt her stomach squeeze.

  Why had these people gone to so much trouble for a stranger? And it must seem odd to stage a wedding the very day after the mixer. She supposed reporters would have a great time writing up the story if they found out about it, which she profoundly hoped they wouldn't.

  Ironically, Kieran hadn't initially supported the idea of advertising for brides, she'd learned this morning from Beth. Now he was the first to be married.

  It isn’t a real marriage. Don’t get carried away.

  All the same, she had a to take a deep breath to settle her nerves as she gazed between the rows of seats to where Kieran stood by the altar, impossibly handsome with the tuxedo emphasizing his height and strong build. She was impressed that he actually owned a tuxedo.

  Due to the haste, there’d been no rehearsal and no chance to find the right music. They’d just have to wing it.

  At Samantha's nod, Mary Anne went first down the aisle, humming a wedding march. Beth followed, and they took places across from Pete, as best man.

  At the altar, Lew stood ready to officiate, dressed in a dark suit. He had studied for the ministry and served as assistant pastor at a church before discovering that his true vocation lay in architecture. He performed ministerial duties in the town whenever they were required.

  Kieran's expression remained cool as Samantha reached him. Was he regretting his offer to serve as a temporary husband?

  At least she was getting her money’s worth out of the dress.

  The ceremony flew by. Before she knew it, Kieran was slipping a ring on her finger. Samantha glanced down, her heartbeat speeding at the memory of that previous, stolen ring.

  This one was heavy and bore an emblem. After a split second, she recognized it as Kieran's class ring from UC San Diego.

  Without warning, a wall of fear slammed into her. What had she let herself in for? What if she ended up trapped in Mudville, doomed to spend the rest of her life eating mess-hall food and scaring off mountain lions?

  Sharply, Samantha reined in her panic. A deal was a deal. Besides, after the trial, she’d be drinking rum and Cokes, and dancing her nights away to the beat of steel drums.

  "I now declare you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride." Lew sure hadn’t wasted any time on that ceremony.

  Kieran tipped up Samantha's chin. She barely had a chance to prepare before his lips grazed hers. Delicious. Tantalizing.

  When he stepped back, applause washed over them. She wished the kiss had lasted long enough to imprint his mouth on hers. He'd left her wanting more, and it wasn't a sensation Samantha appreciated.

  As they strode down the aisle, she relaxed at seeing the happy faces of her new friends. This was fun. How many women had two weddings without being forced to endure a single marriage?

  In the bathhouse, Samantha changed into a sundress for the picnic. Carefully, she slipped the wedding dress into a protective bag Beth had found, although she wasn’t sure why she felt such an urge to preserve it.

  The picnic lasted all afternoon. The food was tasty, and people joined enthusiastically in the tug-of-war, egg toss and three-legged race. Before long, most of the people were covered with dust, laughing and much better acquainted.

  Samantha kept sneaking glances at Kieran. His strong face with its high cheekbones warmed with pleasure as he observed the couples pairing off. He genuinely cared about his men’s happiness.

  Lew and Beth seemed lost in their own world, talking or just gazing at each other. Pete kept one arm around Mary Anne's waist as he organized activities and wisecracked with the participants.

  Even the odd men out took turns operating the grill. Later, a fellow named Mack produced a banjo and provided a passable rendition of the latest country hits. After that, Beth led the women in singing "Amazing Grace" and "Tis the Gift to Be Simple."

  "I should invest in a gingham dress and a bonnet," Samantha confided to Kieran. "Then I’d go home and tend to the spinning wheel."

  “And cook?”

  “Let’s not overdo this.”

  Kieran indicated Pete and Mary Anne, who were supervising a sack race. "It may be a cliché, but women do civilize a town. Pete's been shriveling inside, alone out here."

  "How about you?" Samantha asked.

  A startled expression crossed his face. "Shriveling? Hardly. And now that I'm a married man, there’s a lot to look forward to."

  “You must have missed the memo.”

  “What memo?”

  He’d promised not to pressure her about sex. “We don’t have that kind of relationship.”

  “Yet,” he said cheerfully.

  Samantha refused to let him needle her. She was his wife in name only, and that was that.

  Kieran frowned. "People are leaving already?"

  Sure enough, couples and many of the single guys were wandering down the hill toward town. The two of them followed.

  On the main street, a pang of regret ran through Samantha at saying goodbye to her friends. Mary Anne was scheduled to sing in her church choir tomorrow, while Beth had a vanful of ladies to drive home.

  The town wouldn't be the same. Samantha hadn't given much thought to how it would feel, being the only woman in town. What would she do all day without a job, friends or a shopping mall? Hiking didn’t appeal to her, nor did spending all day on the Internet.

  She'd think of something. She certainly wasn't going to let Kieran think of it for her.

  Studying him from beneath lowered lashes, she wondered what was going through his mind. His arm weighed lightly on her waist, slipped there as if by chance. Otherwise, he scarcely seemed aware of her as they strolled across the grounds making sure all fires were extinguished and that no food was left to attract animals.

  Well, they'd pulled it off. She'd become the protected Mrs. French and he'd become an heir with a wife.

  "That cub bothers me a little," Kieran admitted. "I wish I knew for sure it was back with its mother."

  Samantha stepped over a rock protruding from the ground. "I'm glad I won't be sleeping outside tonight."

  "So am I."

  "That's what you think."

  He smiled.

  From a high point, they waved at the last of the cars disappearing down the dusty road, not that anyone was likely to see them. Then they returned to town, where Kieran reminded the men to be cautious after dark and keep their screen doors shut.

  "I was worried about Hank. I never expected mountain lions," Samantha said.

  "Normally they give humans a wide berth." Kieran's thumb stroked her shoulder blade. It felt good against her tight muscles. "I hope last night's excursion was a one-time thing. Mountain lions can be relocated, but this is their native habitat and they belong here more than we do."

  “Maybe one of them will eat Beatrice.”

  “We can hope.” He removed his hand. “Speaking of eating, are you ready for the bridal feast?"

  "Sure." Abandoning the faint hope that he meant to drive her to a decent restaurant, Samantha went with him to the dining hall.

  "We have an excellent staff," Kieran said as if reading her thoughts. "Our cook is Australian. He was having a bit of trouble getting his visa renewed, so I sponsored him He likes this area. Says it beats the Outback."

  The dinner proved tasty: chicken with wine sauce, scalloped potatoes and green salad. At the long table, the men treated Samantha like a sister, with good-natured teasing about being the only female in town.

  She was told to expect buttons to sew and haircuts to administer. Accepting the good will behind the kidding, she jokingly promised to serve as den mother. "As for haircuts," she told a couple of burly guys who'd joined them for an after-dinner beer, "I hope you don’t mind a few nicks.”

  “Just so long as the sideburns match,” one of them said.

  “Like, how closely?” she asked. Their smiles struck her as slightly pained. Well, they’d been warned.

  By seven o’clock, the dining hall was emptying. "Mostly the men go to the rec
hall for a movie or videogames," Kieran said. "But I expect they'll be tired tonight."

  And you? Samantha wanted to ask as they stepped into the rapidly cooling air. The image she'd been suppressing all day popped into her mind, of her and Kieran walking into his cabin and locking the door behind them. A shiver ran through her.

  "Cold?" he asked.

  "I’m fine.”

  His eyebrows lifted, but he made no other response as they strolled home a few dozen feet ahead of Lew and Pete. Samantha heard the buzzes and chirps of wildlife and caught the tangy scent of wildflowers.

  In her travels, she'd rarely ventured beyond cities. Here in the canyon, they were a good hundred miles from what she considered civilization. Yet she was safer here, with Kieran, than in any city.

  Safe from everything but him.

  Lew turned off the path first, waving good-night, and a short distance later they themselves veered onto the trail to Kieran's cabin. "Enjoy your wedding night!" called Pete. "Be sure to get lots of nice, restful sleep."

  Then he vanished. Samantha was alone with Kieran, and she wasn't at all sure what would happen next.

  Or what she wanted to happen, either.

  Chapter Seven

  Samantha held herself warily as Kieran pushed open the door and reached in to snap on a light. Then he turned to her, roguish glee flashing in his eyes. Before she could grasp his intentions, he swung her up and carried her across the threshold.

  Instinctively curling against him, Samantha could feel the beat of his heart. While it was hard to think straight suspended in midair, she tried to muster a protest. "If you don't mind ..."

  "I don't mind at all." He plopped her onto her feet. "Just providing the bride’s traditional welcome."

  "Being hauled through the air like a sack of potatoes isn't my idea of a welcome," she muttered.

  "You’re a little heavier than the traditional sack of potatoes.” Quickly, he added, “But cuter.”

  Busy examining the place, Samantha didn’t bother to answer. The dominant feature in the modest front room was a fireplace of chipped red brick. Before it lay a matted rug of indeterminate color, blending into the mud-colored expanse of wooden floor.