A Willing Wife

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A Willing Wife Page 20

by Jackie Merritt


  “I’ll listen, honey,” he said gently. “But first let’s get you settled down.” He led her into the bathroom, and he bathed her feverish face with cool water. “There, doesn’t that feel better?”

  “Yes, thank you,” she whispered, though she still couldn’t keep the tears at bay. “Dallas, I’ve been such a terrible fool.”

  “You’re talking about the woman I love,” he said with a tender kiss to her forehead. “So be kind.” Then he smiled at her. “The restaurant next door is still open. Why don’t I run over and get us some coffee. Or maybe you’d rather have cocoa or tea.”

  “Hot tea sounds good. No sweetener, no lemon, no milk. Just plain tea.”

  “I’ll be back in two shakes.” His gaze held hers. “Don’t be too hard on yourself while I’m gone.” He hugged her for a lovely long moment, then left.

  Maggie glanced at herself in the mirror over the sink counter; she had never looked worse. It didn’t matter. On her way out of the bathroom, she leaned her forehead against the frame of the door, closed her eyes and whispered, “Thank you, God.”

  While Dallas and Maggie were talking the night away in that hotel room in Houston, evil was at work in Maria Cassidy’s trailer near the town of Leather Bucket. It was the six-month anniversary of baby Bryan’s kidnapping, and Maria thought it was an appropriate date for a first contact with the Fortunes regarding the child. Her letter would, at the very least, shake them up, and she liked the idea of shaking the Fortunes so much that she couldn’t stop smiling malevolently.

  Newspapers and magazines were strewn over the furniture and floor of Maria’s small living room. She had planned everything very carefully, down to the smallest detail. She wore surgical gloves so there would be no fingerprints on the letter and envelope, and she had purchased the necessary items to accomplish her scheme in four different stores, so her trail would be difficult to follow. Everything she was using was a common product, available in most stores. And even the smartest investigator would soon learn that there was nothing unusual in the physical qualities of the letter.

  She had taken other precautions. Her heavy dark hair was wrapped in a turban; there would be no hairs on the letter for an investigator to send to the FBI laboratory. Clean, untouched paper from the package she’d purchased covered the small table at which she worked; there would be no telltale fibers to investigate.

  This could not be a handwritten letter—someone, probably her mother, would recognize the writing as hers, even if she disguised it—and she had gone through the scattered newspapers and magazines and cut out words and letters to make up the message, which she was now gluing to a sheet of paper. It was shaping up nicely, and Maria was exceptionally proud of her own cleverness. Investigators would never be able to link this letter to her; she was certain of it.

  There, she thought, all done. Sitting back, she read the assembled message:

  Bryan is safe and well cared for. We will contact you again with instructions for ransom money.

  She smiled gleefully over the “we” in the message. That had been a particularly clever idea, because it indicated that more than one person was holding Bryan.

  Her smile faded then. The most dangerous part of her plan was delivering the letter without being seen, and it was now two a.m.—time to get to it. Cautiously sliding the sheet of paper with its glued-on, mismatched letters into a manila envelope, she secured it with the attached string. She would not lick the envelope flap to seal it, because even a residue of moisture could identify her. Or so she believed. She’d seen enough movies in which people were trapped by their own DNA—it was not going to happen to her.

  Although she would have liked to shed the gloves, she would be touching the envelope again later, and she was not going to take any chances. To make sure the envelope picked up nothing from her car, she slid it into a plastic food-storage bag. It was now ready for transportation.

  Turning out the lights in the trailer, she waited a few minutes in the dark, then gingerly opened the door and peered outside. It was a still night; not even a small breeze rustled the dry grasses and ill-tended bushes and trees around the trailer. Her own heartbeat was the only sound, and she saw not one light or any other sign that someone might be out and about.

  Carrying the plastic bag containing the envelope, she quietly hurried to her car and laid it on the floor just behind the driver’s seat. Returning to the trailer, she turned on one small light and looked at the sleeping baby. Taking him with her went against her grain, but so did leaving him alone in the middle of the night. Anything could happen. He could wake up and put up such a howl that someone might hear him and knock on her door to ask if anything was wrong. That wasn’t likely to happen because her trailer was isolated from the others in this dilapidated little trailer court, but she still couldn’t rule it out.

  There were other dangers to consider, as well—a fire, for one. Maria winced over that thought. Her rented trailer was old as the hills, and she really didn’t trust its worn-out electrical system. If she lost baby Bryan because of a fire, she would never collect a dime from the Fortunes.

  But the final reason she couldn’t leave him alone at night was that he was an endearing, adorable little boy, and though she had tried very hard to keep herself distanced emotionally from Bryan she hadn’t quite succeeded. While caring for the baby, she had also come to care for him. She wished she didn’t, but it was something she couldn’t seem to control.

  Gently lifting him from the crib, she placed him in his car seat. Tucking a blanket around him, she picked up her purse, turned off the light and quietly left the trailer. After securing the car seat, she slid behind the wheel of her car and started the engine. She drove away without headlights, and only turned them on when she was on the highway.

  Breathing more freely now that she was away from the court, she went over everything she’d done tonight, making sure she hadn’t overlooked something that would lead investigators to her door. Satisfied that she’d done everything right, she passed the rest of the drive in an enjoyable fantasy of the Fortunes reading her letter and going wild.

  She would hear about it from her mother, of course, and she would act astonished and outraged, but in actuality she would give almost anything to be a fly on the wall when the letter was discovered.

  “They’re going to go crazy,” she said out loud with a rather demented giggle. Oh, yes, she would love being there when her letter was passed among the family.

  Approaching a grove of trees—her intended parking place— Maria’s levity vanished. She pulled the car into the trees and turned off the ignition. Her heart had started pounding, and she took several deep breaths to calm herself. Glancing back at baby Bryan, she could tell he was still sound asleep. Even if he woke up and cried, the car was too far from the ranch for anyone to hear him.

  Wriggling around, she reached behind her seat for the plastic bag. She had furtively studied the path she would be walking during previous visits to the ranch, and she knew where the ground was hard and where it was soft. She would stick to the hard ground and leave no footprints. The Fortunes and even their investigators would think that a ghost had delivered the letter.

  Smiling again, Maria got out of the car and silently closed the door. She walked cautiously but quickly, and was fully prepared for the dogs that came bounding out of the darkness to bark at and sniff her. From her jacket pocket she produced a handful of wieners; the dogs happily began eating the unexpected treat and forgot her. She began walking again and was soon very close to the big house.

  She had only one unknown to deal with: Was anyone on night guard? Lily had mentioned night guards since the robbery, and Maria hunkered down behind a bush to look everything over. If someone was walking guard duty, he wasn’t anywhere near the house. She waited five minutes, ten minutes, and when twenty minutes had gone by and she still hadn’t seen anyone, she decided it was safe to proceed. Surely a guard would have circled the house by now. She crept from her hiding place.


  The yard lights around the big house were her biggest hurdle, but she had that figured out too. Dodging the circles of light, she stayed in the dark spots and made her way to the house. Hastily she took the envelope from the plastic bag and shoved it under the front door. It was a tight squeeze because of the door’s weather-stripping, but she managed to push it through.

  Then she ran, retracing her route to perfection in spite of her speed. Winded when she finally reached her car, she hurriedly climbed in, started the engine and drove away.

  Elation dizzied her. She’d done it! And without a hitch.

  Leaving Houston and heading for the ranch the next day, Maggie realized that she had never been happier or more lighthearted. The changes within her were astounding. For the first time in her life, she felt truly and completely linked with a man, almost a part of him. She knew now that she could talk to Dallas about any subject on earth, and her spirit soared because of that simple fact.

  “Love has many facets, doesn’t it?” she murmured.

  “I’d say so,” he agreed, taking his eyes from the road long enough to send her one of his great smiles.

  “It’s really a very complex emotion,” she added.

  “That’s because it’s more than one emotion, sweetheart.”

  “Yes, I suppose it is,” she said thoughtfully. “It’s liking a man and admiring him, respecting him and wanting to share your life with him. And, of course, it certainly has to include physical attraction.”

  “Lots of physical attraction, Maggie.”

  She smiled serenely. “I think we proved our mutual attraction last night, don’t you?” Between their bouts of conversation they had made love, again and again. Oh, yes, they had definitely proved the chemistry between them.

  “We did that in the line shack, the first time we made love,” Dallas said huskily, sounding as though he would like to do so again.

  She couldn’t help teasing him a bit. “Dallas Fortune, you’re insatiable. Did you know that about yourself?”

  “Not like I know it with you.”

  Maggie’s heart seemed to swell with love. They had already discussed the fact that sex had never before been so good for either of them. Maggie had confessed that she’d never really enjoyed sex with her husband, and Dallas had surprised her by saying, “Maggie, you know I loved Sara. I’ll never try to kid you about that, but I can’t kid myself, either. I want you more than I’ve ever wanted any woman, and that’s the God’s truth.”

  Dallas chuckled raggedly. “You’ve got my wheels spinning, sweetheart. We’d better talk about something else or I’m going to start looking for a motel. How about us making some decisions about our wedding? What do you want—a big wedding with all the trimmings or something simple? It’s your call, sweetheart.”

  Maggie deliberated a few moments. “Well, considering all that’s going on in your family—baby Bryan’s kidnapping and your father’s troubling divorce, in particular—maybe we should keep it simple. Also Christmas is this coming Saturday, and I haven’t done one speck of shopping. Have you?”

  “My mind’s been on other things, I’m afraid—namely you, sweetheart.”

  She smiled at him. “I’m pleased to have been such a distraction.”

  Dallas laughed. “That you were, darlin’, that you were.” He drove for a minute, then suddenly pulled off the freeway, taking the next off-ramp.

  “What’re you doing?” Maggie asked.

  “We’re going Christmas shopping,” he announced, and sent her a grin. “Is that okay with you?”

  She clapped her hands together and laughed. “Yes!”

  Late that afternoon they were once again heading for the ranch. The trunk and back seat of Dallas’s car were overflowing with Christmas gifts, and both he and Maggie were happily exhausted.

  “Okay,” he said. “Now that we’ve got our shopping done, we can talk about our wedding. I believe you said you would prefer keeping it simple?”

  “I think simple would be best, don’t you?”

  “I think you’re one terrific lady, that’s what I think. Yes, I agree with you. A splashy wedding right now probably wouldn’t be well received. And I don’t intend to put it off, Maggie, not for any reason. I want us to be married as soon as we can arrange it.”

  “Family only, then?”

  “Absolutely. Family only.”

  Maggie couldn’t help laughing. “Mama is going to flip out when we drive up and tell her we’re getting married.”

  “No, I don’t think she will. I think Rosita has always known this would happen.”

  “Well, I have to admit that she does have premonitions,” Maggie said. “And a lot of them actually come to pass. So maybe she won’t be surprised at all.” Dallas had pulled into a side road and parked the car. “We’re almost home. Why are we stopping here?” Maggie asked.

  “So I can kiss you. Come here, gorgeous wench.”

  Laughing gaily, she slid over and into his arms. She had phoned the bank and canceled her interview, and she was going to marry this fabulous man. Life could not be sweeter than it was at this moment, and she kissed Dallas with all the love in her heart.

  “Wow,” he said softly when they came up for air. “You make my blood boil, Maggie. How am I going to wait to make love to you again until we’re married?”

  “How am I?” she whispered.

  He disentangled their bodies and backed up the car to turn it around. “That’s the best argument I can think of for not delaying our wedding,” he said with a look of utter yearning in his eyes—as though they hadn’t made love for most of last night.

  Maggie felt exactly the same way. They’d gone through a lot to reach this point, but now they both knew that they loved each other too much to live in separate houses, to sleep in separate beds. “It won’t be for long,” she said with a quiet sigh.

  “Damn right it won’t,” Dallas growled. They were on the road again. “Listen, tomorrow we’ll drive to Leather Bucket and get the legalities out of the way. But the actual ceremony could be a problem because of Christmas. Do you have any ideas about that?”

  “I suppose it should be put off until after Christmas,” Maggie murmured.

  “That would mean waiting at least a week.”

  “Even a week is short notice, Dallas. You do want your whole family there, don’t you?”

  “If they can make it, yes. But there are so many Fortunes, honey, that they probably wouldn’t all be there if they had three months’ notice. It’s not something I’m going to worry about, and I don’t want you worrying about it, either.”

  Maggie frowned. “Mama might worry about it. She loves you all, you know.”

  “Yes, I do know. But we have to settle on and then stick to one certain date, Maggie. If we let other things get in the way, we might not be married for months.”

  “You’re right, darling. It’s going to be our wedding, and you and I will set the date. So, what do you think? One day next week?”

  “Tuesday,” he said firmly. “A nice simple ceremony on Tuesday.”

  Maggie sighed contentedly. “You’re wonderful. Thank you.”

  When Dallas and Maggie pulled into the Perez driveway, Travis ran full tilt from the house, yelling, “Mama! Mama, you’re home!”

  Rosita stepped out onto the porch and watched as her daughter got out of the car and hugged her son. Then Dallas picked up Travis and hugged him. The three of them made a lovely picture, Rosita decided, a lovely family picture. She smiled knowingly.

  After a half-hour of breathlessly explaining their plans to a beaming Rosita, Dallas asked Maggie to go to the big house with him so they could tell his father the news together.

  “Yes, yes, you must do that,” Rosita exclaimed.

  Travis looked shyly at Dallas. “Are you really gonna be my daddy?”

  “Yes, son, I am.” Dallas squatted to be on a level with the little boy. “How do you feel about that?”

  Travis squirmed a little. “Do I get to call you Dadd
y?”

  Dallas felt an emotional stinging in his eyes. “Yes, Trav, you get to call me Daddy.”

  Maggie suddenly had to bite her lip; her eyes, too, were burning with unshed tears. Even Rosita dabbed at her eyes with the hem of her apron, but it was she who cleared her throat and stopped them all from breaking down completely. “You two run along and talk to Ryan,” she said.

  Maggie cleared her own throat. “Do I look all right, Mama? Should I change clothes…or something?”

  “You look beautiful, Maggie. And happy. Very, very happy.”

  “We won’t be gone long, Trav,” Dallas said to the boy, and after Maggie kissed her son’s cheek, they left the house and got into Dallas’s car again.

  “Your mother didn’t say a word about our hurry-up wedding date,” Dallas said as he started the engine. “Let’s hope Dad feels the same way about it.”

  The drive took only a few minutes, and Maggie admitted to some nervousness over talking to Ryan Fortune as his future daughter-in-law. But Dallas held her hand for the walk to the house, which bolstered her confidence immensely. Whatever took place inside that fabulous house, Dallas would be at her side.

  What she could never have imagined when they walked in was the sound of someone weeping. Dallas sent her a frowning, questioning look. “Something’s wrong,” he told her, shaking Maggie’s resolve to remain confident.

  “It’s coming from the library,” Dallas said uneasily, and led her to the incredibly beautiful room.

  Claudia and Matthew Fortune were seated on a blue velveteen settee, and it was Claudia who was weeping. Matthew was attempting to comfort his wife, although he, too, looked distraught. Standing at the fireplace and wearing a scowling, enraged expression was Ryan. No one else was in the room.

  Dallas and Maggie stopped at the doorway. “Dad?” Dallas said. “What’s going on?”

  “Dallas, you’re back. Good. I’ll tell you what’s going on. The kidnappers were here in the night, and they left a message. Slid it right under the front door, if you can believe it. The original is in the hands of the FBI, but I have a copy.” Ryan walked over to a table and picked up a sheet of paper. “Here, read it for yourself.”

 

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