Maybe, With Conditions

by Mariella Starr

  The DA was also trying to convict Barbara Ruiz and Ned Orson with the overdose deaths of three people in Nevada and one in California. Tracing the connection of illegal drugs to individuals was a difficult process. They might not be able to prove the deaths were related to the Thiopental stolen from Dalton's office. However, the officials could prove the two had possession of the Thiopental. Drug charges were pending. It was a matter of confirming they had enough evidence to make the charges stick. The drug charges could add as much as ten more years to each of their prison sentences. If the homicide charges held up, both of them could be convicted to thirty or more years behind bars. Dalton had been warned, though, that a thirty-year sentence could be reduced to twelve or fifteen years actual time served.

  Satisfied his family was reasonably safe for a long time, Dalton headed home after stopping at the drug store to buy Nicole a box of her favorite candy. He also stopped at the supermarket, the only place in town selling flowers, and bought the best of the lot.

  As Dalton drove home, his eyes kept straying to his pathetic romantic gestures. He needed to sweep Nicole away for a romantic weekend. He also knew it was unlikely to happen with her current injuries and now Mrs. O'Cleary's arrival. They had to get used to a full house, again. Family was family and they were dealing with a multigenerational household again. Thankfully, Mrs. O'Cleary got along great with his grandparents. Helen and Roy Mac had welcomed Dee Dee into their home the previous evening long after they had retired for the night. His Gran woke him when Mrs. O'Cleary arrived, but he wanted Nicole to rest for the night. Dalton knew how uncomfortable it was when every movement was painful. She didn't complain, but he could tell Nicole was lying when she said she felt fine.

  * * *

  Mrs. O'Cleary wandered through the long hallways finding her way to the kitchen. Her charge had taken a pain pill and finally drifted off to sleep.

  The Calloway home was bigger than most of the bed and breakfast inns she had frequented during her stay in Ireland. She had visited several relatives, but they were few and far between. Mostly, she had toured the parts of her home country she hadn't visited when living there.

  After her husband's death, she had barely been able to keep a roof over their heads. There was no extra money to gadabout the countryside. When she had been offered an opportunity to leave Ireland, she had taken it. With little hope of improving her station in life or her son's, she had nothing to lose.

  Moving to America had been a frightening experience, but she had no regrets. She and Phillip took advantage of the many opportunities available. She was an admitted braggart about her son's success. In turn, he was a good son.

  Even so, she had given him a verbal thrashing for keeping mum about Nicole being in the hospital three times since moving west. Helen looked up from where she was kneading bread on the large kitchen island, "Is Nicole all right?"

  "She's sleeping, although if it were left to her, she'd be workin on another masterpiece," Dee Dee exclaimed with a smile.

  "She's always busy," Helen agreed. "The only thing stopping her when she first arrived was a damaged knee and not having a studio set up. I admire her talent."

  "As do I. Would you be after wanting help with the kneadin?"

  Helen shook her head no. "I'm almost finished and it has to rise once more. If you know how to make Irish Soda bread, I would be eternally grateful. I don't cook as much as I did when I was raising my family. I only took it on, again, when our housekeeper needed an operation.

  "You being here could turn into a blessing. I know you are Nicole's family, but she will need help. Our housekeeper, Doris Jackson, has finally confirmed she will not be returning. Dalton and Nicole only have a temporary replacement and she isn't here today. Doris has had a hard time recuperating and has decided to live with her daughter to help her with the children."

  "Good, it will give me something to do," Dee Dee offered. "I thought Dalton and Nicole would have a place of their own. My coming here to help seems unnecessary."

  "It isn't, not at all," Helen contradicted. "Roy Mac and I usually spend most of our summers in Minnesota in a cottage near my family. We only stayed on at the Double C this year so we could get to know Nicole and Matty. We don't live on the ranch and haven't for years. We have a home in Carson City where our daughter, Kay, is attending college full time, now. Roy Mac and I both believe we should be there for our daughter. She's involved with a young man, and I think we need to keep a closer eye on her."

  "Tis the curse of bein a mother," Dee Dee agreed. "I've been after watching over Nicole since she was a wee lass. For all intents and purposes, she's me daughter."

  "I'm glad," Helen said. "Now, we need to get a wedding planned and get those two married! I've tried not to interfere, but I'm not very good at turning a blind eye to their carrying-on. They have been living as man and wife since they got here. It's not the example they should be showing our great-grandchild!"

  "I agree," Dee Dee said soundly. "As soon as she wakes, I'll be having a word with her!"

  "You two let those kids be," an authoritative voice exclaimed as Roy Mac rolled into the kitchen. "They can decide when they're ready to tie the knot. I know you two have been plotting and you need to mind your own business."

  Helen flushed while Dee Dee looked away, and then their eyes met. Both of them recognized Roy Mac's tone of voice. It was the voice of a man who brooked no arguments. Helen nodded agreement while Dee Dee grabbed an apron. "If I'm after makin Irish Soda bread, I'd better be started." Neither of the women heard the slight creak of the side door as it closed.

  When Dalton returned to the ranch, he checked with Neeley to see if there had been any emergencies before making his way to the house. He slipped in the front door and heard womens' voices in the kitchen, but chose to ignore them.

  He was on a mission and he wouldn't be sidelined. Dalton had made up his mind. With Mrs. O'Cleary at the Double C, Nicole was out of excuses for postponing the wedding. He went straight up the stairs to their bedroom, but she wasn't there. He dumped his offerings on the dresser and hurriedly checked the other rooms.

  "Where's Nicole?"

  Mrs. O'Cleary and his Gran looked up from their bread making.

  "She was sound asleep when I left her room," Mrs. O'Cleary exclaimed in exasperation.

  Dalton shook his head. "I'll find her."

  She was not in any of her usual places, not the studio, or her office. He toured the barns and was about to return to the house when he spotted a speck of denim blue against the yellow of a haystack. He walked out to the field to find Nicole stretched out in the hay.

  "What the hell are you doing out here?" he demanded.

  "Thinking."

  "You'd better be thinking of a good reason why I shouldn't paddle your rear end."

  "Quit growling at me and come sit," Nicole ordered. "I'm not on my deathbed. I am sick of everyone telling me to rest, and sleep, and watch television. I can feel my brains leaking out from listening to the drivel."

  "Nic, you can't keep ignoring the doctor's instructions."

  "Poo," Nicole said dismissively. "Sitting out here in the quiet, watching the clouds float by is about as relaxing as it gets. It's also keeping me from telling off Dee Dee and Helen."

  "What have they done?"

  "Remember when I told you I thought those two were plotting? Well, it's true. I heard them talking about it inside. Now, they are organizing our wedding."

  Dalton sat in the hay and pulled her into his lap. "What would be so wrong with them organizing it?"

  "It's the principal of the thing. I don't want them thinking they had more to do with our getting together than we had to do with it."

  "You get pig-headed and prickly every time anyone mentions marriage," Dalton declared.

  "I do not!"

  "Yes, you do. You told me to pick a date a couple weeks ago. We could not do it then because our folks were out of town. They are all here, now. Everyone is here except Phillip. From what I have read a
bout him online, he can afford to fly in, whenever. I don't want to wait any longer. I want to get married. I want my ring on your finger. I want to know when I crawl into the bed beside you at night, you are my wife."

  "Can we wait until I get this ugly sling off my arm?"

  "No," Dalton shook his head. "You said I could pick a date. I am picking next weekend. We can do it at the church, or at home. We can do it with a minister or a justice of the peace. I'm not particular, but I want the words. I want your promise to be my wife forever."

  "Are you going to continue whacking on my butt?" Nicole asked.

  "If I think you deserve it, yes," he said firmly. "If you agree to next weekend, I'll give you a pass on the one I already owe you for not staying in bed and doing as you were told."

  "You have to agree to something, first."

  "Conditions? Again?"

  "Yes, I have conditions," Nicole said. "I want to be your wife, but I'm an artist and you don't get input on my art… none… whatsoever. If I want to paint nudes, I will without any raised eyebrows."

  His eyebrows did rise at her ultimatum, but he nodded okay. "All right, what else?"

  "I want more babies," Nicole said cautiously. "I probably should've already told you, but you have always been so careful, making sure you use condoms. I hate them."

  "I was trying to protect you from an unplanned pregnancy. I didn't want to get you pregnant, again, without a choice, although we have had more than a few that have broken."

  "Well, stop it. I want more kids. Growing up without siblings is lonely. I do not want Matty growing up as the center of attention. It's not good for him."

  "Agreed. We can start on it right away."

  "I've already started," Nicole admitted. "I've been poking holes in your condoms."

  Dalton frowned. "What? Since when?" She looked decidedly guilty.

  "When?" he demanded.

  She met his eyes hesitantly. "Since the night after I came to your room the first time. I found the supersized box of condoms in your nightstand. I wasn't taking the pill because I hadn't been sexually active. I figured if I got pregnant, there was no way you would ever let me go. So, I sabotaged the condoms."

  Dalton brought his hand to her bottom and squeezed before throwing his head back in laughter. He slid out from under her, got to his feet, and helped her up before swinging her off her feet and carrying her across the field.

  "Are you mad?" Nicole asked. "You can't whack on me. I'm still in a sling!"

  "I'm not mad," he admitted unable to stop grinning. "We are definitely getting married next weekend. You have nine days to figure out the details. I want you to have my babies almost as much as I want you. I hope one has already been started. Is there any chance you might be pregnant?"

  "According to my calendar, maybe, but it's not conclusive."

  He laughed again. "I spent a whole lot of time holed up in the bathroom poking my share of holes in those condoms."

  "What?" Nicole screamed. "You idiot!"

  "Now, Nic. You can't call me an idiot unless you call yourself the same thing," he reminded her. "We're two of a kind. I wanted you any way I could get you. I knew if you were pregnant, you wouldn't leave me, again!"

  "Put me down!" Nicole ordered. He set her on her feet. "Dalton Calloway, a woman should have a choice in her reproduction."

  "So should a man," he reminded her. "Face it, Nic. You don't have a leg to stand on. If I'm guilty, so are you."

  She blustered, and then she nodded her head. "Okay. We're even, but don't think you can trick me ever again."

  "The same goes for you, my little hellcat. Are we going to use condoms now without holes in them?"

  "No," she bristled. "We're strictly bareback from now on. You're getting old. If we want more babies, we have to get started as soon as possible."

  Dalton kissed her once and then he kissed her again, swinging her back into his arms. "Roy Mac told me this morning that he and Gran are moving back to Carson City. We'll move Mrs. O'Cleary into the guest house, and move Matty down the hallway, at least two rooms away from ours!"

  "Why?"

  "Because we're both going to be howling at the moon, and I don't want our five-year-old getting an X-rated sex education before we can get the bedroom soundproofed. He's still in kindergarten!

  "We were meant to be together because we love each other as much as we frustrate each other. We are the perfect match. You'll be the most sexually satisfied woman in this state while I will be the happiest man."

  "How can you be sure?

  Dalton set her on her feet. "Nicole Madison Bennett, soon to be Calloway, I'm promising to love you for life. All I need from you is an I do."

  She searched his face for a few seconds and then smiled. Circling her good arm around his neck, Nicole kissed Dalton murmuring between kisses, "I do, I do, I do."

  The End

  Mariella Starr

  Sometimes it’s hard to pick what I love most beyond my family; I write, paint, renovate and am a voracious reader. The joke in our house about vices is that mine is books. My idea of the perfect house is the public library, just add a kitchen to make my husband happy, and I would be good with it. I live in Nevada with my husband, and two dogs that I adore, and lot of scorpions and lizards that still make me scream and act girly. I love to travel, and I get to travel to visit my grown children who have both chosen to live abroad, one in Ireland and one in England—what could be better.

  I love writing; creating the characters and making them come alive. For a short time, while they are directing me through their stories, they are alive for me and I hope they are to my readers. My favorite genres for reading are history, romances, and mystery. Sometimes I think I spend as much time in research as I do in writing, but it is important to me that the time-periods be correct. It also makes me one heck of a good trivial pursuit player.

  I’m a casual person, enjoying a laid back lifestyle where dressing up means putting on real shoes and not flip-flops, cowboy boots or running shoes. (The running shoes are not my idea of fun but my husband says if I’m spending all my time on a computer writing, I also have to move—10 miles a day!) Oh, what I put up with because I love that man. I also love receiving e-mail from my readers and can be contacted at MariStarr@outlook.com

  Don’t miss these other exciting titles by Mariella Starr and Blushing Books!

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  Isabel's Independence

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  The Awakening of Alexandria

  Charlotte's Comeuppance

  Teaching Miss Maisie Jane

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  Maybe, With Conditions

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