Run, Run, Runaway Bride

by Diamond, Jacqueline

  "Pete isn't."

  "Stop worrying about Pete," he said. "He's a big boy. If I didn't know you better, Samantha, I'd say you were an old-fashioned matchmaker."

  "I like to see people happy," she replied, "and I hate loose ends."

  "You plan to wrap us all in tissue paper before you fly off to realms of adventure?" The words were light, but Kieran's tone had a serious edge. "We're capable of managing our own lives, you know."

  "Something bothering you?" she challenged. "A minute ago, you were saying how great it was to have women around. Now suddenly you disapprove of my meddling."

  "Some of us prefer flying solo." Kieran fixed his gaze on a distant crow circling above the woods. "We don't need some copilot mucking up the controls."

  "Well, Pete's not you." Samantha grabbed a plate and got in line. Soon she’d piled up healthy portions of potato salad and baked beans, with a loaded hamburger. She poured herself a glass of lemonade and gazed around for a place to sit.

  That was when she saw the women huffing up the hill. Mary Anne wore an embroidered smock and flat shoes, but Alice had tortured her bottle-blond hair into an explosion of split ends, tucked her womanly frame into a black sheath dress and crammed her feet—Samantha couldn't believe it—into four-inch heels.

  "Didn't anybody tell her this was a picnic?" Kieran murmured.

  "I did. I swear it." She waved to her friends, nearly spilling her lemonade. "I guess it was the prospect of meeting a townful of eligible men that ripped her loose from reality."

  "Isn't she the one who dislikes men?" Kieran steered the way to a spare blanket on the ground, since they lacked picnic tables.

  On a flat spot, Samantha set down her plate and drink. "It's marriage she dislikes, not men. Alice! Mary Anne! Over here!"

  She met her friends halfway across the clearing. They all tried to hug each other at once, circling as if performing an impromptu folk dance.

  "I'd almost given up on you," she said.

  Pink stained Mary Anne's cheeks. "It was Alice. She had to go home and change after work."

  "I thought this was a dance." Alice glared around the pastoral setting. "Isn't that what you said?"

  "Barbecue and softball play-offs." Samantha grinned. "But if you come back next weekend, we can accommodate you."

  “Guess I’m overdressed.” Alice sniffed.

  “No, the rest of us are underdressed,” Samantha responded loyally.

  “That’s right.” Alice tossed her head.

  In a few minutes, her friends had filled their plates. Mary Anne kept sneaking glances around the area, but Pete had disappeared.

  "He was here a few minutes ago," Samantha said as they all sat down.

  "That's okay." Mary Anne toyed with a pickle. "We really came to see you."

  "Like fun we did. You're the boss, right?" Alice gave Kieran a friendly nudge. "How about lining up the boys so I can take my pick?"

  He chuckled. "You won't be left unattended for long."

  His men proved him right. In short order, they began drifting over. Although the guys pretended to want a word with Kieran or to have a joke for Samantha, their eyes feasted on Alice, four-inch heels and all.

  She blended right in, exchanging greetings and laughing at their jokes. But no one provoked Alice's sharp tongue, which meant she hadn't met a worthy sparring partner.

  Mary Anne was drooping lower by the minute. It was growing dark, and Samantha hoped Pete hadn't retreated to his cabin for the night.

  Kieran dumped his paper plate in the trash and wandered off, presumably to locate his friend. Or so she hoped.

  Mack plopped down nearby. The burly workman had filled a dessert plate with slices of apple and cherry pie.

  "So," he said, "anybody want a beer?" He'd brought three bottles.

  "With pie?” she asked. “Doesn't that taste funny?"

  "His taste buds got shot off in the war," called Ernie.

  "Which war was that?" Alice asked.

  "Anywhere Mack goes, there's a war," someone sniped.

  "Don't let him bore you with stories about lost gold mines." Ernie was trying hard to catch Alice's attention, without success.

  "They're jealous." Mack handed Alice one of the beers, keeping the others for himself. "I talk with prospectors who stop by here. Sometimes I pick up good stories. They're probably true, too."

  "Like what?" asked Alice.

  "Don't believe him," Ernie said. "He makes things up. Or else those prospectors do. Half of 'em claim their mules can talk."

  “They ride mules?” Samantha asked.

  “Or they claim their Jeeps can talk,” Ernie corrected.

  Mack shook his head. "I found this one in a book in the rec hall, so it has to be true."

  Alice regarded the self-assured newcomer with interest. "I'll listen to a good lie any time."

  The men hooted. "She's got his number." Ernie gave a nod of satisfaction.

  He didn't understand Alice, Samantha reflected. The harder she ribbed a man, the more that meant she liked him.

  "Now, this happened in the Thirties. Nineteen thirty-three, to be exact." Mack leaned back, clearly enjoying the attention. "A couple of local folks were camping out at Agua Caliente Springs, not too far from here, looking for wildflowers in the canyons. They were amateur botanists, according to this book."

  As the story unfolded, Samantha spotted Pete taking a seat beside Mary Anne. The two exchanged shy smiles, and she felt an unexpected tightness in her chest. She wanted so much for her friend to be happy.

  But if Pete was here, where had Kieran gone?

  The amateur botanists, according to Mack, had met a prospector who told of seeing a fantastic sight: an old ship jutting from a sheer mountain wall. He also claimed to have found Pegleg Smith's lost mine, so the couple cheerfully dismissed his account.

  But the next day, as the couple was hiking through a canyon, they saw exactly what the miner had described. A curved prow like the front of a Viking ship was sticking out of a cliff high above them.

  "Ridiculous," snapped Ernie.

  "Kind of farfetched," Pete agreed.

  Alice spoke up. "Not necessarily. The sea level used to be a lot higher and these canyons were under water at one time. Haven't you guys heard of whale skeletons being dug up around here? People say Chinese sailors discovered the California coast a thousand years ago, so why not the Vikings?"

  "Then why haven't we heard about this before?" someone protested. "A Viking ship half-buried in a mountain? You'd have a theme park built around it by now."

  "If you guys are done exercising your jaws, I'll tell you what happened," Mack said, and they fell silent.

  Since they unfortunately hadn’t brought a camera, the couple made a note of the landmarks and went back to their camp, intending to return later with witnesses, Mack told them. But only minutes after they left the canyon, an earthquake shook the ground with tremendous force.

  A rockslide blocked the trail back into the canyon. The landmarks vanished. Either the ship had been crushed or buried or blocked off so completely that it was never found again.

  “Aw, seriously!” someone scoffed. “An earthquake just happened to hit?”

  “It was March, 1933,” Mack answered. “The Long Beach quake. Killed more than a hundred people up the coast.”

  The group began debating the plausibility of the story. Alice took Mack's side, while he sat silent. But when he began arguing on his own behalf, she led the crowd in teasing him.

  Alice had found her man.

  The insistent harmony of a guitar penetrated their awareness. Gradually the friendly quarreling broke off and conversations hushed.

  Samantha couldn't see who was singing, but she recognized the baritone voice the moment she heard the opening line of "Wind Beneath My Wings." It was Kieran.

  The bittersweet words touched Samantha's heart as his fingers roved over the guitar strings, summoning a gentle, insistent rhythm. And what a voice he had, ragged around the edges but
rich and resonant at the center. In the deepening darkness, the canyon walls intensified his rounded tones.

  Samantha's throat closed as she listened to the plaintive melody and poetic words. She wondered why he had picked this song. Earlier, he'd said that he liked to fly solo.

  Too soon, the ballad ended. At the crowd's urging, Kieran segued into other favorites, and Samantha couldn't resist joining in.

  She had endured sing-alongs during her one sorry summer at camp, especially despising the stupid ditty about a big ship going down. During her miserable sojourn at boarding school, the girls had performed torture en masse on Christmas favorites, an attack from which "Silent Night" had, in her opinion, never recovered.

  Until now, Samantha hadn't considered that singing together could be a form of bonding. People shared their emotions and their memories through songs they loved.

  Kieran was the perfect leader, his baritone soaring above the others, yet never dominating them. And he had the wisdom to quit while his audience still wanted more.

  "Encore!" people called as Kieran abandoned his post atop a rock. "You can't quit now!"

  "It's somebody else's turn," he said, slipping the guitar strap over his head. "Mack?"

  "Why the hell not?" With a wink at Alice, the construction worker took the instrument. He launched into a medley of toe-tapping country tunes.

  Kieran dropped onto the blanket beside Samantha. Around them, their friends whispered compliments.

  He accepted with a trace of embarrassment. "1 haven't sung in public for years," he told Samantha.

  "I'm glad you did." She rested her head against Kieran's shoulder. It was just the right height.

  Exactly as it should be.

  *

  Kieran awoke on his air mattress after midnight. As usual, he came fully alert, taking in the calls of night birds and, from far off, the yips of frightened coyotes.

  What had disturbed them? He put on his sandals and went out to check.

  From the edge of the clearing, moonlight glinted off a tableau of silver and mist. Fog laid its mysterious blanket across the valley, muffling sound and sight. Nothing moved in the stillness, and then the yapping and whining resumed.

  The mountain lion must be on the prowl. Nothing else was likely to trouble the coyotes that way.

  Kieran felt a twinge of sympathy for the big cat. Apparently she still hadn't found her cub, and the weeks were passing. She must be picking up the little guy's scent, but it appeared to be hiding near the old cabin, so its smell would be confused by the comings and goings of humans.

  Some of the men had taken to leaving food scraps near the cabin, despite a warning that they were only worsening the situation. The food always disappeared. There was no telling what type of animal had taken it.

  Although Fish and Game officials planned to arrive the following week, Kieran had heard of new brush fires. He hoped the rescuers wouldn't be delayed.

  As he inhaled the scents of late-blooming flowers, he experienced again the odd mixture of sadness and joy that had stolen over him earlier at the picnic. It had been a special evening.

  Behind him, bare feet brushed the porch. He turned to see Samantha leaning sleepily against a post, rumpled hair framing her delicate face and that sensual nightgown tracing her curves.

  He remained where he stood, safely distant. “Did I wake you?”

  “No.” Her teeth sparkled in the moonlight. "You sing pretty well for a wild man. Where did you hide the guitar? Even Pete didn't know you had it."

  The real question, Kieran thought, was why he had chosen to break his long silence tonight. Instead, he said, "I stashed it in the office storeroom. It has some painful memories attached."

  "Of your fiancée?"

  He nodded. "She played several instruments and sang. Our duets were spectacular, people used to tell us.”

  "What happened?"

  Kieran gazed over the canyon he had once dreamed of showing to Michele. "We had so many plans. Michele worked as a music teacher, but she was also a composer. I promised to put her through graduate school after we were married.”

  “That was generous.”

  “I had the best intentions.” He spoke in a low voice. “Then my construction business ran into trouble. I was short-tempered and rarely home, so not the easiest person to put up with. And I could hardly support myself, let alone a graduate student. I’m not sure which bothered her most, my moodiness or my poverty.”

  “You quarreled?” Samantha asked gently.

  “I wish we had.” That might have clarified issues, Kieran supposed. “Michele didn't like to talk about her feelings and I’m not too good at it, either. One day she announced it was over. When I suggested counseling, she told me we couldn’t afford it. And that was that."

  Samantha's sleepy eyes grew troubled. “I’m sorry.”

  "It was more than five years ago." He scarcely felt the pain any more, just bittersweet nostalgia.

  “I can't understand leaving a man just because times are hard,” Samantha said. “It isn't as if you robbed a jewelry store."

  Like her former fiancé, Kieran mused. "Were you in love with that guy? "

  "No."

  "Then why marry him?"

  "Impulse," Samantha admitted. “The spirit of adventure. I'm very impulsive, in case you hadn't noticed."

  "I noticed." She’d married Kieran, too, on the spur of the moment.

  "We spent a wonderful weekend in Acapulco. Unconsummated, by the way.”

  He was glad to hear that. “How’d he win you over?”

  “He said the right things.” Samantha sighed. “It was like I had a mental checklist for my dream man and he ticked the right boxes. I can't believe how stupid I was."

  "Ever been married before?"

  "Nope."

  "Think you'll ever get married again? For real, I mean?" Kieran wasn't sure why he asked that. He didn't want to hear her say that yes, someday she would really find the man of her dreams. And it won’t be me.

  "I don't know. It’s hard to imagine."

  The sadness in her tone touched him. Studying her there, waiflike in the moonlight, Kieran wanted her so much he couldn't think about anything else.

  For the past five years, he'd lived for a tomorrow that might not come. Tonight, nothing existed but the moment. Kieran eased toward her, ready to stop if she pulled back.

  Instead, Samantha stepped to the edge of the porch. At this height, she was eye-to-eye with him. Their arms slipped around each other and their mouths met without hesitation. Through the thin nightgown, he relished the softness of her body, and the fire underneath. Then she stepped back, caught his hands and took him inside.

  In the bedroom, it was Samantha's turn to explore him. Kieran forget everything except the pleasure of her touch.

  As she moved above him, Kieran caught her wrists and held her at full length, letting her warm femininity bring his hardness to life. He rolled her over and with a few gentle strokes made them one, shuddering when she shuddered, gasping when she gasped, astonished at the connection between them.

  Sensations roared through him. He could hardly tell which belonged to him and which to her.

  After the storm passed, he cradled Samantha in his arms. Her hair fluffed across his chest and her breathing gradually quieted into the rhythm of sleep.

  Away in the night, the coyotes called out, no longer frightened but simply but staking their claim to the land. It was a tentative claim that they held, but then, Kieran thought, all claims on this earth were tentative.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Kieran couldn't figure Samantha out. First thing Sunday morning, she jumped up and called, "Last one to the dining hall is a scrambled egg!" Dressing with unaccustomed restraint--a colorful blouse with a denim skirt--she scurried out the door.

  By the time Kieran sat down to breakfast, she was popping up to put her tray on the conveyer belt. Since then, she hadn't stood still long enough for them to talk.

  Not that she avoided
him; in fact, she touched his cheek or stroked his shoulder whenever she passed. Then she would dart away, galvanized with energy as she and the other women prepared for the upcoming festival.

  What had last night meant to her? Kieran wasn't even sure what it meant to him. They ought to talk about it, if Samantha would hold still long enough.

  It wasn't like him to stew over such matters. Yet last night, matters had changed. He could have sworn Samantha had opened up in a new way.

  He hoped to get a clue to her feelings at lunch, when Beth and Lew announced over glasses of wine that they'd set a wedding date for September. He turned to study Samantha for any hint that she might have changed her mind about leaving.

  All she said was, "Too bad she's so tall. My wedding dress would never fit." Then she hugged Mary Anne, who appeared pleased for Beth and melancholy at the same time.

  Kieran found all of the women confusing today. Mary Anne stuck close to Alice and rarely looked at Pete. As for Alice, although Kieran liked her forthright manner, the way she and Mack argued all day, he feared he might have to separate them with a water hose. Yet Samantha regarded the pair with a delighted smile.

  It came as a relief when the other women headed for their cars. At last the town would return to normal. Maybe now he'd be able to talk privately with Samantha.

  Teary-eyed, the women exchanged hugs as if Alice and Mary Anne were setting sail for a distant shore instead of driving two hours to San Diego. Mack helped Kieran haul Alice and Mary Anne's suitcases to their car.

  "She's quite a pistol, ain't she?" Mack said, gazing at Alice.

  "Good description," Kieran agreed.

  "She'll be back next weekend for the Fourth of July." Mack broke off as they neared the car, and Kieran was left to imagine what might happen when the quarrelsome couple reunited. Perhaps he should distribute bulletproof vests.

  Samantha handed a key to Alice. "That's to my post-office box," he heard her say. After giving the location, she added "I'm hoping to hear about a cruise job. Could you bring my mail next weekend?"

  "Sure." Alice tucked the key into her wallet.

  Kieran felt as if Samantha had punched him in the stomach. Was that all that mattered to her, a stupid cruise job?