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The Prince She Had to Marry

Page 11

by Christine Rimmer


  The goat looked at her sideways, asked, “Maaa?”

  “Well, no. I am not your mama, but that doesn’t mean we can’t be friends.”

  The goat tipped its head the other way. Its ears lifted, swung forward, dropped and then lifted again. “Maaa, maaa...”

  “Come here. Come here, little sweetheart....”

  “Maa.” The animal made up its mind and came to her.

  Lili knew a little about goats. After all, Alagonia had three major exports: dates, olive oil and goat cheese. The goat—it was a doe, a young one—nuzzled Lili’s flattened palm. “I’m so sorry,” Lili cooed. “I don’t have anything good to give you.”

  “Maa,” said the doe, and dipped her head to butt Lili’s hand.

  “What are you doing out here all alone?” Lili petted the long nose and stroked the wiry hair of her flank. She had pretty little horns, short and set at a backward slant to her head.

  “Probably abandoned when whoever was living in the house down the road took off,” said Alex.

  Lili glanced over to see him standing there, looking so big and strong and very much in one piece. “Give me a heart attack, why don’t you?”

  He granted her his almost-smile. “The house is locked up tight, but apparently deserted. There’s an empty barn and a couple of sheds—no people anywhere that I could see. And it’s nice that you found a goat. We can use the meat.”

  She glared at him. “We are not eating this goat. She trusts me.”

  As if on cue, the doe turned her head his way and asked, “Maaa?”

  He grunted. “I see.”

  “And here’s some good news,” she said cheerfully.

  “Tell me.”

  “Goats need water. That means there must be a fresh water source around here somewhere.”

  “How right you are,” he said.

  She dared to ask, “You found water?”

  He only said, “Let’s go.”

  * * *

  The little goat followed them down the road to the plain stone house among the olive trees. There was a faucet in the front yard. The tap was a tad stiff, but Alex managed to turn it. The water emerged, sputtering and rusty at first. But after a few moments, it ran cold and clear. Lili gratefully drank her fill and then Alex did the same.

  The stone house had an open front stoop, green doors at the back and front and green shutters on the windows. As Alex had warned her, it was locked up tight.

  He hesitated to break in and Lili felt the same way. They both knew they would eventually have to do it if rescue didn’t come in the next few hours. But still, it seemed wrong.

  He took the time to remove the signal mirror, the flares and the smoke signal from the survival kit. They would keep them close at hand, ready to alert potential rescuers should they spot a boat or a helicopter. There were empty flower boxes at the two windows flanking the house’s front door. He put her pack in one, the survival pack in the other, with the signal equipment on top, out of reach of the curious goat.

  They spent some time exploring the other buildings. One was a woodshed. It was piled to the ceiling with neat rows of stacked wood. There were even baskets of kindling and old newspapers near the door. The other shed had bags of animal feed in it, some for chickens and some for goats. Lili found an old tin bowl and filled it for the little white doe. The goat attacked the food with gusto.

  The barn had a workshop filled with tools and equipment and an ancient, rusted Cadillac convertible—with no key in sight. And no source of gasoline that they could see. Alex said that later, if they were here for more than a few days, he might break the lock on the gas tank and see if there was fuel in there. If there was, he could hot-wire the thing and maybe get it started.

  She picked up a dusty screwdriver from the workbench by the door. “But first, of course, we would try the screwdriver trick.”

  He frowned. “The screwdriver trick?”

  “Before you mess up a car, you should first try using a screwdriver in place of a key. It often works and does zero damage.”

  “Wherever did you learn that?”

  “Stranded with the Father of the Bride by Lucy McFarren.”

  “Let me guess. A romance?”

  “I believe I may have mentioned that you can learn a lot from a romance.”

  “You did. I had no idea that included a new, improved way to steal a car.”

  “In a romance,” she informed him, “the hero and heroine would never steal a car if they weren’t in dire circumstances. In Stranded with the Father of the Bride, a child was ill and they couldn’t find the car keys. They had no choice but to try the screwdriver. As luck would have it, it worked—and, Alex, I have to ask. What real use is a car here? The road is badly rutted and too narrow in spots. And we can walk the whole island in a few hours anyway.”

  He shrugged. “You are absolutely right.” His white teeth flashed with his grin.

  Her heart seemed to expand inside her chest at the sight. He was so different here, on this island in the middle of nowhere. So much more relaxed than she ever remembered him being, even before the terrible years when they’d all thought him lost forever.

  Here, he seemed free of the ghosts that haunted him at home. She thought of her dearest papa, of Adrienne, of Evan, of Alex’s brothers and sisters, of her country and his. She knew that all the people they both loved had to be positively frantic about now. They would be sending out search parties far and wide to look for any sign of them.

  Lili hated to think of them all suffering, not knowing what had happened, with no clue of where they were or if they were injured. Or even drowned. She wanted to be found, and quickly, for all their sakes.

  But at the same time, it wasn’t all that bad here. They had a little food and plenty of water.

  And here, they had something they’d never had before: each other. Or at least, the beginnings of what could be a real bond between them. She couldn’t help but revel in the magic she had found: Alex really kissing her. Alex comforting her, holding her close in the raft last night, pressing his warm lips to hers, whispering, “It’s not your fault.” And now, just look at him, openly smiling at her in this dusty old barn.

  He stepped closer. “You astonish me.” He cradled her face in his two big, warm hands. She loved the way he touched her. Her skin seemed to come alive with every sweet caress. He threaded his fingers up into her hair, which was coming loose from the braid she’d woven to try to tame it. “I never gave you the credit you always deserved. You are not only so beautiful it makes a man ache just to look at you, but you are also brave and good, and true-hearted. You deserve...everything. So much. The world at your feet.”

  “Alex.” She looked in those eyes of his that were fully amber now, warm and bright as the coals of a cozy fire, even in the shadows of the barn. “Alex, what wonderful change has come over you?”

  He didn’t answer. But he did pull her close. He kissed her—another magical kiss like the one back there at the edge of the trees, a kiss that had her heart pounding with sheer joy and her body stirring with excitement.

  “Maa, maaa, maaa?” The little goat interrupted then.

  Laughing together, they turned to see her chiding them from the open barn door.

  Alex said, “Come on. We have a lot to do.”

  * * *

  They got the signal equipment from the flower box and put their packs back on and explored the perimeter of the property. Out in the back, they found the generator and also a large fuel tank. Unfortunately, the gauge on the tank read Empty and the generator wouldn’t be a lot of use without fuel. But the house had two chimneys, a stone one in front and a smaller pipe chimney in the back. If they did end up breaking in, they could have a fire if they needed one. And the pipe chimney had them both suspecting there could be a wood-burning stove in the kitchen. With a little luck, there might even be candles inside.

  Not too much later they found the water source. There was a spring on the hill behind the neglected garden in the ba
ck. The spring formed a creek that was partly diverted into a large water barrel with a pipe that disappeared into the ground. The pipe emerged where it hooked into the house and at the outside faucets, front and back.

  The road they had followed to the house circled the buildings and the garden and then wound on down to the east coast of the island, where there was another small, inviting beach. They gathered deadfall wood from under the trees and spelled out another message across the beach for anyone in the air to read. They also laid a signal fire—and then set it alight when they spotted a boat far out on the horizon. The boat looked like a big one, probably a cruise ship. Alex had brought the flares. He set off two of them as she signaled madly with the mirror.

  But it was no good. The ship seemed to get smaller and smaller and then vanished from sight. Lili watched it disappear. For a moment, it felt like hope went with it.

  And then Alex put his arm around her and drew her close. “There will be more boats. And my men won’t rest until they’ve found us and brought us home safe.”

  She leaned gratefully into his warmth and strength. “I know. We just have to be patient, and do what we can to be prepared.”

  They laid another fire several meters away from the one that was still brightly burning. By then it was two in the afternoon. They wanted to take the road that wound off to the north, to circle the island, maybe set other signal fires.

  But both their stomachs were growling. They each ate a food bar, and then they discussed the necessity of getting into the house. If there were provisions in there, they could really use them.

  Alex doused the useless fire with seawater toted in the collapsible bucket from the survival kit and they took the road back to where the empty house waited, silent, locked up tight. Both front and back doors had dead bolts. They would have to break down one of the doors to get through. The shuttered windows provided a better option.

  Alex found a crowbar in the barn and pried the hasp free on one. The casement window underneath presented little problem. They forced the latch.

  He climbed in and she went in after him—into the dark, cool living room, which was furnished simply, with an old horsehair sofa, a couple of padded chairs with carved wood arms and a low, rough-hewn table in front of the sofa, which faced the dark hearth. There was one light fixture overhead and a number of fat candles in dishes and holders set about. Lili lit one of the candles with her utility lighter and carried it with her as they explored the other rooms.

  One side of the house was the living room and kitchen, with the kitchen in the back. On the other side was a bathroom with a toilet and a single bedroom. In the bedroom, the ancient iron bed had a thin, dusty mattress that had been rolled back against the headboard—presumably to keep the mattress top somewhat fresh. Between the bedroom and the bathroom was a walk-through dressing room lined with shelves. There was bedding in there, stored in plastic, and other linens, too—towels and washcloths and a box of rags and stacks of other cloth items that they didn’t take the time right then to examine.

  In the kitchen on the table they found an envelope propped against a blue enamel pitcher. The name Jack was printed in large letters on the front. Next to the envelope was a ring of keys.

  Alex picked up the envelope and turned it over. It wasn’t sealed. He gave her a questioning glance. She shook her head. He propped it back in place against the pitcher and took up the keys.

  A few minutes later, he had the doors and shutters unlocked.

  “Look.” Alex held up a key on the ring. “This goes to the Cadillac.”

  “Which we’ve already decided we’re not going to need,” she reminded him.

  He tried the other keys and found one that unlocked the pantry that jutted off the kitchen on one side of the back door. The shelves in there were well-stocked with canned goods. And in one of the drawers beneath the kitchen’s worn wooden counter, Lili found a can opener.

  She brandished it proudly. “It’s amazing that I know what this is. I took a cooking class once, but not the kind that involves opening cans. We used only fresh, all-natural ingredients. I don’t believe I’ve ever actually used a can opener—until now.”

  “I’m sure you read all about can openers and how to use them in one of your romance novels,” Alex suggested wryly.

  “I’m sure I did,” she agreed with a knowing smile.

  He turned on the faucets over the deep, farm-style sink. The water sputtered out, rusty at first, but soon running clear and steady. They washed their hands and splashed water on their faces. Then they opened some cans and sat down to eat their fill. As she gorged gratefully on peaches, sardines and water biscuits from a nice, big tin, she was extra glad that Alex had managed to rescue her backpack when the Lady Jane capsized.

  He sent her questioning look. “What are you grinning about?”

  “Oh, just feeling pleased with myself because I remembered to bring money.” In her day-to-day life, she had no reason to carry cash. Her every need was anticipated, her slightest whim fulfilled. If she needed money, there was always a retainer at her elbow who carried it. So as a rule, Lili never gave a thought to having money on her person. But when she planned her escape from the Princess Royale, she’d realized that she very well might need money of her own. She’d made sure she had plenty of Croatian kunas on hand. “When we’re rescued, we can leave a nice, fat stack of bills next to the keys and the blue pitcher and that intriguing envelope addressed to someone named Jack....”

  “An admirable plan.” He gave her a nod of approval and ate another juicy canned peach. Then he said slyly, “I know you’re curious about what’s in that envelope.”

  “Oh, yes, I am.” With care, she laid two sardines side-by-side on a cracker. “But it doesn’t seem right, does it? Not only to break into this cozy little house and make ourselves at home here, but then to read the owners’ mail....”

  “It’s not sealed. Jack—whoever he is—doesn’t ever have to know you read it.”

  “But I will know.” She ate the cracker.

  He scanned her face, as though he couldn’t get enough of just looking at her. His appreciative gaze was very gratifying, especially given that she was not at her best. She’d caught a glimpse of herself a few moments before in the streaked mirror over the sink in the bathroom and let out a squeak of dismay. She was a complete mess, yesterday’s eye makeup not much more than a couple of dirty smudges, her hair all matted and flat and her nose sunburned in spite of the sunscreen she’d smeared on it. He said, “So much integrity in such a pretty little package.”

  His kind words warmed her heart. But she had to confess, “Not as much integrity as one might hope, to be painfully honest—and if it’s a letter, it’s probably in Croatian anyway, so I couldn’t read it even if my curiosity got the better of me.” She read English and Spanish, her mother’s and father’s native languages, respectively. Slowly, with effort, she could read Portuguese, French and Italian. But Croatian was out of her league.

  “I might be able to stumble through it,” he suggested. He’d always been brilliant at languages. Just another of his many admirable talents. “And how many Croatians do you know named Jack? I’ll lay odds that whatever’s in there is written in English....”

  “Stop.” She picked up the mug she’d filled with clear, cool water and drank it down. “It’s really not fair for you to tempt me this way. Another word on the subject, and I’ll be grabbing poor Jack’s envelope and tearing it open in my eagerness to see what’s inside.”

  “Lili,” he teased, “who was it that told you life was going to be fair?” His voice was rough, husky. It sent a delicious shiver sliding through her. And his eyes said things that made her skin feel overly warm.

  Her thoughts strayed to the bed in the other room. If no rescue came today, would he share that bed with her in the night? Would they be husband and wife in every way at last?

  After all he’d put her through, it seemed almost too much to hope for, that this tenderness and appreciation
he was currently lavishing on her could last. But since she’d awakened in his arms on the life raft last night, he’d been a different Alex altogether than the cruel and distant one she’d married.

  She wanted to keep him—this new, kind, gentle, attentive Alex. She wanted him never ever to change back into that other Alex, the one who had been the bane of her childhood, who had cold-bloodedly tricked her into marrying him.

  And why shouldn’t he stay like this? It had to be much more pleasant for him, to be a good and loving man rather than a dark, tortured, mean one.

  Lili was an optimist at heart. And she chose to believe that not only had her husband changed, but the change would also be a permanent one.

  “Lili?”

  “Um?”

  “You have a strange, faraway look in your eyes.”

  “Do I?” She smiled at him sweetly. “I can’t imagine why.”

  * * *

  After the meal, Lili got her toothbrush and paste from her pack and brushed her teeth. Alex had to make do with a little paste and his finger.

  What she really wanted next was a bath. But there was still much to do first. They spent an hour puttering about the house, making it more livable. As long as they were stranded there, they might as well be as comfortable as possible.

  The cooker, as it turned out, was a fine old AGA that also served as a boiler. It burned wood to heat the oven and range top burners and to heat the water to the faucets. Alex got the AGA going and in no time the house was an oven. So Lili opened all the windows and both doors to cool things off, while he figured out how to work the dampers so the fire burned at a slower, steadier rate. The antique coil-topped refrigerator was emptied, turned off and propped open with a towel. It would be no use to them, not without fuel to run the generator.

  The little goat took the open back door as an invitation. She came right in. “Maa, maa...”

  Alex groaned. “Get that goat out of the house.”

  Lili coaxed the doe to come to her with soft words of encouragement. She stroked her sweet long face and petted her a little and then led her back outside and locked her in the barn until the house was cooler and they could close the doors again.

 

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