Priceless Marriage

by Bonnie Gardner

  Sam kissed her. And then he showed her.

  Almost until dawn.

  Chapter Fifteen

  “This is so exciting,” Gwen Tanner said as she made her way through the mudroom to the kitchen. Her arms were ladened with cardboard cake boxes that she could barely see over, and Sam hastened to relieve her of her burden. She stood in the middle of the kitchen, her greatly pregnant condition impossible to hide, and looked around.

  Sam shot Ruby an I-told-you-so look, and Ruby winked back at him as Gwen nodded approvingly.

  “I love it,” Gwen exclaimed, her hands clasped together above her protruding stomach. “It’s almost as good as mine.”

  “Well, I don’t do quite the same amount of cooking as you do,” Ruby said. “But I couldn’t resist the cooktop range. Even if I had to get Nick to install a generator for when the power goes out.”

  “Nick did what?” Sam asked absently, eyeing the goodies Gwen had brought.

  “Installed a generator,” Ruby answered. “I bet a generator would come in handy for the boardinghouse, too.”

  Gwen looked at Sam, a gleam of anticipation in her green eyes. “I’ve spent so much money on the rest of the house and getting ready for the babies, but I never even thought about something to keep everything working. And I’ll need it when the babies come.”

  “Nick went back to Rapid City,” Sam said. “But I can tell you where to get one and who around here can put it in for you,” he offered. “Before he left, Nick gave me a list of the people he used.”

  “Oh, yes,” Gwen exclaimed. “That would be great. When the babies come, it will be a lot easier if I don’t have to worry about keeping them comfortable and warm.”

  She smiled a watery smile, then clapped her hands together briskly in a businesslike manner. “Now, let’s get this food set out. If you don’t stop fooling around, your guests will start arriving and you won’t be ready for them.”

  Ruby smiled. She had a we’re-not-getting-divorced party to prepare for, and time was ticking away.

  SAM STABBED THE LAST of the tiki torches into the ground and stepped back to survey his handiwork. It was too early to light them, but they were all ready for later. He couldn’t have imagined that a simple get-together would have taken as much work and as many trips to Pine Run for supplies, but the nights with Ruby had been worth all the extra effort.

  On top of all that, he had stripped the peeling paint off the ranch house and repainted the place while Ruby enjoyed the task of decorating her new kitchen and planning the party with Gwen. Somehow, Sam thought, Ruby got the better part of the deal.

  Still, he enjoyed the thought of sharing their good news with their friends, even if everybody in town already knew about it. He wondered if that busybody Wyla Thorne would show up and if they’d find themselves news in the Pine Run Plain Talker again. He still hadn’t been able to prove definitively that Wyla had been responsible for all the tidbits that kept showing up in the newspaper, but he’d bank on it. If he had to.

  The breeze shifted, bringing with it the smoky scent of real Southern-style barbecue. Sam had insisted on it, and he’d been in charge of slow cooking the pig—not one of theirs, heaven forbid!—and making sure it was done right. Even if he and Ruby had felt they needed to apologize to Petunia and the piglets. His mouth watered just thinking about the coleslaw, potato salad and baked beans that went with it. Not to mention Gwen’s special baked goods.

  Ruby stepped out on the front porch and sniffed the air. “Hey, it really smells good. I can’t wait to show you off to all my friends,” she said, coming down the steps.

  “Our friends, Ruby,” Sam corrected, squeezing her close. “You know, I used to love the way the ‘military family’ came together in times of need and happiness, but I’ve just come to realize that the good folks of Jester are a lot like them.”

  Ruby nodded. “I thought you’d never figure it out. Just like the ‘family’ you left, the people in Jester are here for you, to help you through the bad times and to celebrate the good. Why do you think I love it here so much?”

  “I think I’m just beginning to figure that out,” Sam said. “Now, let’s finish getting ready before our guests catch us smooching on the porch.”

  “Somehow, I don’t think they’d bat an eyelash, Sam. They’d probably cheer.”

  “Hoo-ah!” Sam said. “You got that right.”

  THE ROCKY GULCH BAND, hired in from Pine Run for the special occasion, struck up a lively tune, and Ruby laughingly pulled Sam into her arms. “Come, husband. We worked all day yesterday to put this dance floor up, and I’ll be darned if I’m going to let it go to waste.”

  “Aw, Ruby, I’m tired from all this getting ready,” Sam grumbled good-naturedly as he followed Ruby to the makeshift dance floor. He had spent most of the afternoon yesterday putting the floor together, and Ruby had strung miles of Christmas lights all around to give the space a holiday feel. But he guessed until somebody got the guests started, the dance floor would go to waste.

  Ruby was wearing the same red dress she’d had on for their “first date” at the Heartbreaker Saloon, and she looked even better tonight, if that was possible.

  Apparently the band had noticed her outfit as well, for they shifted songs suddenly and broke into a country version of “Lady in Red.”

  Sam looked down into Ruby’s laughing face and emerald-green eyes. The slight breeze teased her wavy hair, and tendrils of her coppery locks fluttered around her freckle-dusted face. “Happy, Ruby?” he whispered softly into her ear as Amanda and Dev joined them on the dance floor.

  “Ecstatic,” Ruby answered. “Now I have almost everything I’ve ever wanted.”

  “Almost?”

  Ruby started to answer, but a commotion interrupted her reply. “What’s going on?”

  Sam turned to see a television news truck, complete with microwave dish on top, pull onto the grounds. “Who in the hell invited them?” he grumbled. “Isn’t it bad enough that we have that reporter Harvey Brinkman from the Pine Run Plain Talker wandering around here, ducking behind the shrubbery and looking like a news bureau chief on a secret mission? The Plain Talker is one thing, but television?”

  There were several other strangers lurking around the fringes of the party and carrying cameras, as well. Sam figured they were reporters, too.

  Ruby chuckled at Sam’s description. “Ignore Harvey. He’s harmless. And we’ve gotten so used to having newspeople underfoot around here that we pretty much ignore them unless they stick a microphone under our nose.”

  “Easy for you to say,” Sam said, as a leggy, platinum blonde stepped out of the van. “You’re an old pro at it. This is new to me.”

  Sighing, Ruby craned her neck to see what the reporter was up to. “Well, one of these days, somebody else will get their fifteen minutes of fame, and the attention will shift to them. For now, we just have to grin and bear it.”

  “Amen to that one.”

  The reporter flipped through a dog-eared steno pad, then headed toward the dance floor. Behind her lagged a skinny young man carrying a video camera that had to weigh twice as much as he did. Sam muttered a curse. “Hell,” he said. “I recognize her. Isn’t she on one of those show biz tabloid shows?”

  “Yes, she is,” Ruby said, frowning. “Funny, I don’t think she’s been here before. I wonder what her angle is.”

  “I can guess,” Sam said sourly. “Reunited lovers, the wounded hero returns…all that smarmy stuff. I think I’m gonna puke.” He turned. “I’m going to make myself scarce.” He could hold his own in a firefight, if necessary, but the thought of facing that reporter in front of a camera scared him spitless.

  “Too late,” Ruby said, as the woman, coiffed in a long flip hairdo, the kind that hadn’t been seen since the sixties, and clad in a clingy spandex miniskirt and a matching top that showed off her ample bosom to eye-popping advantage, seemed to hone in on them as if she was using a tracking device.

  Sam tried not to stare, but he
felt like a deer caught in the headlights of a speeding Mack truck as the woman approached. It was too late to make a tactical retreat; she had seen him. He felt as though he were facing a firing squad.

  “Smile,” Ruby said though gritted teeth. “You’re on television.”

  “I don’t feel like smiling,” Sam practically growled as the woman and her cameraman planted themselves in front of them.

  “Mr. and Mrs. Cade?” the woman asked, though Sam was certain she knew exactly who they were.

  Ruby pasted a saccharine smile on her face, the kind she’d always affected when being presented to some general’s wife or other dignitary when Sam was on active duty. “I’m Ruby Cade,” she said. “And this is my husband, Captain Sam Cade.”

  Sam appreciated the way Ruby had emphasized his military rank, but that seemed a moot point. He was pretty sure the woman—what was her name?—knew exactly what his rank had been. He stuck out his hand as a flashbulb exploded in his face. Her handshake was limp and clammy, and Sam felt as if he were shaking hands with a dead fish. He swallowed his distaste and forced a friendly smile. Maybe some people liked the idea of being on television, but as far as he was concerned, he’d rather have dental surgery. “I’m Sam Cade. What can I do for you?”

  Funny, he thought, the woman was so impressed with herself that she hadn’t even bothered to tell him her name.

  “Well, Sam, Mrs. Cade, I think our viewers would like to know something about your wonderful love story and happy reunion.”

  Behind the woman, and out of the view of the camera, Ruby rolled her eyes. Gwen Tanner looked as though she were heading toward them, but she turned quickly and went the other way as another camera bulb flashed. Sam fervently wished he had been able to make a getaway as Gwen had.

  He took a moment to think. If this was going to be the line of questioning the reporter intended to pursue, it was gonna be a damned long night.

  RUBY BREATHED A LONG, low sigh of relief as the reporter—Margaret Sundquist, if she remembered correctly from watching the show a few times—strolled away, swinging her ample hips as if everyone’s eyes were on her. And they probably were: she was making such a spectacle of herself.

  At least the interview was over with, and so far, no one else had approached them for another. Harvey Brinkman, looking cherubic with his curly blond hair and boyish face, seemed to be content to record the evening’s happenings without talking to her, and that was just fine with Ruby.

  “See, that wasn’t so bad,” she said, slipping her hand into Sam’s and squeezing.

  “Speak for yourself, woman,” he growled. “I’d sooner face a court-martial than have to do that again. I won’t rest easy until that woman drives away with all her camera equipment.”

  “What’s this?” Ruby asked, pinching Sam’s cheek as a maiden aunt would her favorite nephew. “Big bad ex-combat controller is scared by an itty-bitty television reporter? Who would’ve thought such a thing?”

  Sam growled, a feral sound low in the back of his throat, and turned away. “I have a good mind to get a gun and run all those…” he groped for the right word “…those infernal reporters off.” He started toward the house.

  “Oh, right,” Ruby muttered, catching his arm and pulling him back. “That’ll go over like a lead balloon. Just think of the headlines that would make! It would end up in more than just the ‘Neighborly Nuggets from Jester’ column in the Plain Talker. It would make national headlines.” She paused. “Besides, I don’t have a gun.”

  “Well, if this keeps up, I’m seriously considering getting one.”

  “Sam, you have guests here, the reporter is leaving, and everything will be fine. Now go enjoy your party. It is for you, you know!”

  “No,” Sam said fiercely, drawing Ruby into his arms. “This party is for both of us.”

  An overwhelming feeling of happiness worked its way through her, and Ruby’s heart swelled with joy. It was so wonderful having Sam back in her life. She felt as if all her hopes and dreams and desires were finally within her reach. Standing here with Sam in her arms, she felt as though everything was right with the world.

  “I love you, Sam,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion.

  He pulled her closer and pressed a quick kiss to her lips. “You are the best thing that ever happened to me,” he said.

  Then Mayor Bobby Larson approached, and Ruby and Sam stepped apart. They did have guests to entertain, and even if Bobby Larson wasn’t one of her close friends, the man was a guest. Ruby pasted a welcoming smile to her face and reached toward the mayor. “Mayor Larson, I’m so happy you could join us,” she said, hoping her insincerity did not show through.

  The mayor was sweating profusely in the warm June air. He mopped at his face with a handkerchief, then jammed it in the pocket of his loud plaid slacks and offered his hand to Ruby.

  His grip was hot and damp, but at least his handshake was firm, Ruby thought. “Have you met my husband, Sam?”

  “Don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure,” Bobby said, thrusting his hand toward Sam.

  “No, I believe your father was the mayor last time I was here. Congratulations on taking over the job,” Sam said, shaking hands, and then looking as though he wanted to dry his fingers on his pant leg.

  Bobby rocked back on the heels of his scuffed white bucks, hooked his fingers in the loops of his plaid pants and beamed. “Wonderful party, Ruby. Thank you for inviting me,” he said. “Now, if you don’t mind, I have some business to talk to your husband about.”

  Ruby felt almost as relieved not to have to entertain the mayor as she’d been when the reporter had finally gone on her way. Let Sam deal with Bobby. Besides, she was certain he was going to pester Sam for support for the hotel he wanted to put on the old pavilion site. She made her excuses and hurried away.

  Gwen Tanner had apparently been looking for her. And now that the reporter and her truck were definitely gone, Ruby wondered what Gwen had wanted.

  “WHAT WAS ALL THAT ABOUT?” Luke McNeil asked as Sam made a hasty retreat from the mayor. Luke was just back from a quick trip to Las Vegas, where he and Jennifer had been married. The surprising news of their elopement had the whole town buzzing.

  “As if you don’t know,” Sam said, striding toward the huge barbecue cooker. The mayor’s chat had left him with a bad taste in his mouth, and he thought maybe some barbecue would counteract it.

  “Still pushing for the hotel?” Luke followed him to where the remains of the pork were keeping warm on the grill.

  “Got that in one,” Sam said. “He wanted me to invest. I don’t know why, but something about that man makes me uneasy.”

  “You aren’t the only one,” Luke said, looking over his shoulder. “He has more than enough motive to have engineered the collapse of the pavilion.”

  “Why doesn’t he just build a hotel on his own property?” Sam asked, loading a paper plate with pork and potatoes. He would have liked a piece of pie to top it all off, but apparently Gwen’s delectable desserts were all gone. Unless there were more inside.

  Luke piled pork on a bun and ladled a good portion of sauce over it. “Doesn’t own any,” he said, then took a bite of his sandwich. He chewed and swallowed. “All he’s got is a house near the city hall.”

  “Got it. He has delusions of grandeur without the means to back it up.”

  “Yeah, and he’s been pestering the millionaires to back him ever since they collected their winnings. Even lined up some other investors on the assumption the town would go for the idea. He was dumbfounded that they didn’t.” Luke reached into a cooler of iced drinks. “I’m never really off duty, but I need this,” he said, pulling out a long-neck bottle of beer.

  “The mayor is enough to drive a man to drink,” Sam said dryly, hooking a beer of his own.

  RUBY HAD BEEN SIDETRACKED by Wyla Thorne on her way inside, but fortunately, Wyla hadn’t taken up too much of her time. Surprisingly enough, the woman actually thanked her for her invitation to the
party. They’d chatted briefly, though Ruby couldn’t help wondering if what they’d discussed would wind up in the Plain Talker. She’d done her best to keep the conversation trivial, and felt fairly certain she hadn’t let slip any deep dark secrets.

  Not that she and Sam really had any.

  She found Gwen sitting at the kitchen table, looking weary, her head resting on her hand. Gwen smiled tiredly and tried to push herself up out of the chair.

  Ruby gestured for her to remain seated, and joined her at the table. “You look tired, Gwen. I don’t mind if you head on home.” She smiled. “We can eat all these goodies without your help.”

  Gwen laughed. “I’m sure you can. I was coming out to see you and tell you I was going on home, but I saw that—that reporter had collared you and Sam, so I came back inside.”

  “Good move,” Ruby said. Gwen might be prepared to raise her children alone, but Ruby was sure she had no desire to have her pregnant condition displayed on national television.

  “Yes, it was good that I came back inside,” Gwen said. “Sam had a phone call. I took a message.” She leaned back in her chair, grimaced and pressed her hand against her huge belly. “One or both of the babies are kicking,” she said by way of explanation. “I had no idea such little creatures could kick so hard.”

  “Well, it won’t be long now,” Ruby said.

  “No, just a couple of months, and the doctor says that twins often come early.” She sighed wearily. “I hope so, just not too early. Though I would like to be able to see my feet again,” she said with a wry smile.

  Ruby looked down. “They are quite lovely feet, just like the rest of you. There’s something quite beautiful about a pregnant woman, you know,” she said wistfully. How she’d hoped to someday find herself in the same condition.

  “You only say that because you’re not getting up every hour on the hour in the middle of the night to go to the bathroom. Just wait,” Gwen said. “I don’t know if I’ll ever have enough sleep again.” She pushed herself up and adjusted her jumper over her belly. “I hope you don’t mind, but I really want to go home now. Has that reporter gone? Is the coast clear?”