Race To The Altar

by Patricia Hagan

  “Yes. There’s a road up ahead to the left. It should take us straight to it.”

  “And what is this place?”

  “According to what the guidebook says, it was an old mining town back in the 1900s.”

  “Hey, you’re all wet on your geography,” he said gleefully. “History was my best subject. Particularly the Old West. And the days of the silver boom were the 1870s—not the 1900s.”

  She smirked. “Well, you need to go back and brush upon your history, because you’ve obviously forgotten there were new finds in all ores around the 1900s, which caused another boom.”

  He thought a moment, then nodded. “Okay, okay. You got me. So finish telling me about this place you’re dragging me off to.”

  “It was rebuilt for a tourist attraction a few years ago, but it didn’t stay open long. I guess people thought it was just too remote. Anyway, I thought it would be fun to visit because it’s not so touristy.”

  Slowing as they rounded one last clump of boulders, he said, “Well, I’ll be darned. There it is.”

  It looked as if it came right out of a movie set—a long, narrow street bordered by wide-fronted buildings. Very western-looking, with tumbleweeds, caught by the warm breeze, bouncing and bobbing against the water troughs and hitching posts that ran alongside plank walkways.

  Some windows were boarded up, and a few had been broken out completely. Shutters hung from rusting nails. A few roofs had caved in, and several porches had collapsed.

  Liz pointed to a building in far better shape than the others. “See the sign over the door? Silver Nugget. That must have been the saloon where they staged the Wild West shows when it was a tourist town. Let’s check it out.”

  He stopped the car right in the middle of the dusty street, and they got out.

  “Be careful,” he warned as Liz started down the board-walk. “Some of those planks might be rotten.”

  He hung back to watch her and thought how she was like a kid, ponytail bobbing as she hurried along as fast as she dared, eyes shining with excitement. It was hard to envision she was the same dedicated businesswoman who could write a press release with one hand while planning a formal dinner for hundreds with her other.

  She was one hell of a woman, all right, and under different circumstances he would have let nothing stand in the way of making her his own.

  Think positive, he told himself as he started walking behind her. Maybe when he was ready to retire she’d still be around.

  Yeah, right, he thought miserably. He had seen the way guys looked at her. Sooner or later somebody would come along and snatch her up, and he just hoped he wasn’t around to see it. He ached badly enough as it was.

  It was not as though he had not lent time to thinking she might be different from other women. After all, racing was her job. She might be able to stand the pressure.

  But he could not be sure.

  And could take no chances.

  Not with his career, his future, at stake.

  Liz looked over her shoulder to see what was keeping him. He appeared to be deep in thought…brooding. She wondered why and hoped he was not angry over her practically kidnapping him to get him out there. He seemed to be enjoying himself, but she had to make sure…had to get him in the mood to relish each and every moment of the rare day off from the pressures of racing.

  They entered the saloon. With the sun high overhead, there was light to see the long bar against one wall, empty shelves for glasses behind.

  Everything of value had been taken. Only a few rickety tables and chairs remained.

  At one end there was a stage, framed by tattered velvet drapes.

  “Can you imagine?” Liz gushed as she ran to stand right in the middle of it. “What it must have been like in the old days? Women dressed in satin and feathers and layers of lace petticoats, kicking up their heels to the music of a tinny piano, while men shouted and yelled and fired their pistols in the air.

  “Look.” She pointed at the ceiling. “I think I can see bullet holes.”

  “Oh, silly, you cannot,” Rick said, and laughed. “You’re really getting into this, aren’t you?”

  “Of course. I always loved the West. When I was little, I played cowboys all the time.” She wandered offstage for a moment, then cried, “Oh, look what I found,” and returned carrying a cardboard box with clothes spilling out of it.

  “Costumes.” She set it on the floor, then dropped to her knees and began pawing through it. “Oh, Rick, just look at this. It’s a treasure trove.”

  “For moths.” He reached down to pull out a worn vest with a rusting star pinned on the front. “This must have been what the marshal wore in the stage show. There’s a hat, too.” He dusted it off. “And a holster and toy gun. I’m surprised this was left behind.”

  “They aren’t as good at snooping as I am. It was stashed under a broken table with trash all around. No one saw it when they moved out, I guess.”

  She had taken out a wrinkled gown of red satin, the bodice crusted in sequins and edged with fluffy pink feathers. “This is the kind of dress I’d have worn if I’d lived back then,” she said wistfully as her fingers smoothed the skirt.

  “And you know what?” She looked up at him with bright, happy eyes. “I’m going to put it on and play like I did.”

  Rick shook his head, amused. She was having a ball, and he decided to join her.

  A few moments later, when she stepped from behind what was left of the drapes, his mouth fell open.

  Despite how old and worn the dress was, it was beautiful on Liz. She had found some old combs at the bottom of the box and used them to pin her hair up.

  “I even found shoes,” she gushed, lifting her skirt and petticoats to reveal old leather button-ups. “And this feather boa, and…” She trailed off, realizing he, too, had changed. He now wore the vest, hat and holster, and a pair of boots that were so large on him they were comical.

  “I’m the marshal, ma’am,” he said, tripping in the boots as he started toward her. “And I’m gonna have to arrest you for showing your ankles.”

  “You’ll never take me alive. Besides, I’ve got a show to do, and I plan to show more than my ankles.” She turned around, bent over and flipped her skirts at him.

  “That did it,” he said with a roar, and went after her.

  But Liz was already doing an old tap-dance routine she had learned when she had taken lessons as a child. Rick, impressed, stood back to watch. Then she began to sing along with the steps.

  She was good, and he complimented, “I think you missed your calling. You should have gone into show business instead of racing.”

  “I’m not in racing,” she corrected with a final step and a curtsy. “I’m in public relations, and, in case you haven’t noticed, that’s just about the same as show business.”

  “Well, could be,” he allowed. “I never thought of it like that.” He took her hand and helped her down from the stage. “Come on. Let’s take a look around town and see if there’s any varmints I need to lock up.”

  It was nearly two o’clock when they had lunch. Returning to the saloon, Liz set one of the rickety tables with the paper plates, cups and napkins the hotel had packed.

  “Okay, Marshal,” she said when everything was ready. “Come eat your grub.”

  “That I will.” He reached for a chicken leg. “All this lawman stuff makes me hungry.”

  Afterward, Liz put her own clothes back on, and Rick removed the vest and boots. She repacked the box and put it back where she found it, explaining, “Mack said he’d love to bring Ida out here to a race sometime. I’ll tell them where this is hidden, and maybe it will still be here.”

  “Good idea.” He motioned her to the door. “Now let’s do a little sight-seeing in the desert right around here. Maybe there’s an old silver mine.”

  There was, and Rick couldn’t believe his luck in finding a tiny silver nugget in the rocks and sand. “Needs cleaning up, but I’m sure it’s silver. Here.”
He handed it to her. “It’s yours. Get it polished, and you’ve got yourself a genuine souvenir of the Old West.”

  She was touched and thanked him, and, for a moment, they stood gazing at each other in an awkward silence. Then Rick checked the time. “It’s getting on close to five o’clock. We’d better be heading back before it starts getting dark. It also feels like it’s getting cooler.”

  “I noticed,” she said, wrapping her arms about her and shivering. “I’ve always heard it can get real cold in the desert at night.”

  She gathered the picnic things, and they went to the car.

  Rick turned the ignition key but nothing happened.

  “I don’t believe this,” he said, pulling the hood release and getting out.

  Liz was right behind him. “What do you think it is? Surely, you can fix it if anybody can. I mean, as much as you know about cars, it can’t be a problem.”

  He opened the hood. “Yes, it can,” he said with a resigned sigh. “Because I can’t do anything about a dead battery in the middle of nowhere.”

  She gasped, “You’re kidding.”

  “No. I’m not. And ordinarily it wouldn’t be a problem, because we’d use jumper cables and get somebody to give us a boost. But here in the middle of nowhere?” He shook his head in complete dismay.

  “But we’ve got a plane to catch.”

  “Not tonight we don’t. If a car doesn’t happen by, which isn’t likely, we’re stuck here for no telling how long.”

  Liz groaned as she turned around and around, fingers pressed to her temples. “This cannot be happening.”

  “Well, it is.” He slammed the hood down. “And we’ll just have to camp out here tonight, and in the morning I’ll hike out to the highway. As best I remember, it’s about five miles. I’d go now, but it would be dark before I got there and I might lose my way.”

  “You’re also not leaving me here by myself, and I’m not about to strike out with you at dusk.”

  He motioned toward the dilapidated hotel. “We didn’t explore that. Maybe they left a few beds behind.”

  They entered the lobby, and with the sun going down, it was difficult to see their way. Rick returned to the car and found a flashlight, then they went upstairs. Only one room had a bed still in it, an old iron four-poster with a thin, sagging mattress.

  Liz saw a huge lizard scurrying in front of the flashlight’s beam and promptly declared, “You can have it. I’m sleeping in the car.”

  She practically ran down the steps getting out of there.

  Rick laughed and followed her. “We’ll both sleep in the car. You take the back, and I’ll fight the steering wheel in the front.”

  Liz bantered right back, “As if that’s a hardship. Be thankful you don’t have a cheap sponsor who rents economy cars. In case you haven’t noticed, this is a luxury sedan.”

  Actually, Liz found the back seat quite comfortable, but, as darkness fell, wished for a blanket. The temperature rapidly dropped and soon she was freezing. “I wish we could run the heater.”

  “Sorry. Any food left?”

  She found a few pieces of chicken and a stale sandwich, which they shared. There were also a couple of candy bars and some bottled water.

  It was strangely quiet. Rick commented that the bugs that might have kept up a racket had probably left with the tourists.

  “I think the lizards ate them all,” Liz said cryptically. “Like the one in the hotel.”

  “Mack will wonder what happened when I don’t show up tonight.”

  “I imagine so, but we’ll call him as soon as we get near a phone. There’s no way my cell will work out here in this wilderness. I’ve already tried, thinking we could call for help.”

  Neither was sleepy, and they talked on—about the coming race in Atlanta, and the one after that in Darlington. Liz told him she was going to plan a barbecue there and invite all the teams. He said he thought that was a fine idea.

  Rick shared bits and pieces about his growing-up years. Liz did the same and found herself telling him about her bad marriage. He likewise confided a little concerning his own.

  As the night wore on, Liz felt the wall between them tumbling down a bit at the time. They were actually starting to become friends, and if being stuck in the desert all night was what it took to do it, then she was glad the battery had conked out.

  But even elation over their improving relationship did nothing to ward off the ever-increasing cold. And when her teeth started chattering, Rick said, “This is ridiculous. We’re both freezing—we’ve got to try to keep each other warm.”

  With that, he rolled over into the back seat and put his arms around her, drawing her close. “We’ll use our body heat,” he said, trying to sound casual about it when he was anything but.

  Liz turned sideways in hopes he wouldn’t feel how her heart was about to leap right out of her chest. Trying to make light of what was becoming a very traumatic moment, she said, “Hey, it’s a good thing we called a truce. Otherwise you’d have let me freeze to death.”

  “No, I wouldn’t,” he said gruffly, positioning himself so she would not feel the swelling of his desire that mere closeness had ignited. “It’s late. Maybe we need to stop talking and go to sleep so the night will pass quickly.”

  She was silent for a moment, then murmured, “I used to do that, you know.”

  “Do what?” Lost in the battle waging within over how badly he wanted her, he had forgotten what they were talking about.

  “Try to go to sleep so the night would pass quickly. I did that on Christmas Eve so Santa Claus would hurry and come. Only it didn’t work. I always lay awake half the night.”

  “That’s what you get for believing in Santa Claus.”

  “Oh, and you didn’t?” She turned her face, trying to see him in the serene darkness.

  Huskily he murmured, “If I did, I’d ask him to leave you in my stocking.”

  And it happened.

  Her lips touched his cheek, and, with a soft moan, he turned and covered her mouth with his. Hot. Searing.

  Liz’s deep, delicious sigh emanated from her very soul. She melted against him, quivering as his tongue slipped inside her mouth.

  As though with a will of their own, her arms twined about his neck, her back arching to get ever closer.

  The firmness of his lips, the intimacy of his tongue melding against hers, the play of his hands as they danced their way across her face, her neck, to ultimately close about her breasts, was making her mad with desire.

  She felt her nipples tingling, growing hard, and was warmed by the sudden rush to her belly.

  Without a word, his mouth still devouring hers, he pressed her down on the seat.

  She helped him unfasten and remove her slacks, and then he was shoving her bra up.

  Lowering his face to her breasts, she wriggled against him in sheer pleasure, her hands twining in his hair as he moved his lips to take each nipple in turn.

  Liz had never made love in the back seat of a car before and dizzily thought how even a king-size bed could not have offered more sublime ecstasy as he positioned himself between her thighs.

  She clutched his back, nails digging into the rock-hard flesh. Then his lips found hers again, his fingers closing on her breasts as he shoved himself inside her.

  She gave a sharp cry that melted to raptured moans as he began moving rhythmically to and fro.

  There were no questions asked, no answers given, amidst the silent acclamation of their hearts and bodies yielding at last to that which each had struggled in their own way to deny.

  And when it was over, when they miraculously crested together, Rick collapsed with his face against her heaving bosom and hoarsely whispered, “I never knew it could be this good.”

  Liz lovingly caressed him, wishing, willing, the poignant moment would never end.

  For she was afraid to face the reality of what they had done.

  Chapter Eleven

  Liz thought she was dreaming agai
n. Too many times to remember, she had dreamed of Rick kissing her awake. Only that morning, it was real.

  Startled, she tried to sit up, but he held her back, forcing her to succumb to the pleasure of his lips.

  When at last he released her, he shook his head in wonder. “I can’t believe this. I feel like I’m back in high school.”

  She giggled. “Well, I wouldn’t know. I never made love in the back seat of a car in high school.” Then, realizing how prim that sounded, she added, “I never got the chance. I was raised by a very strict aunt who didn’t let me stay out after dark.” And it was true. Her first real date was not until she moved out after graduation and got a place of her own.

  Rick yawned and stretched. “Well, I guess we’d better get our hiking boots on.”

  “What hiking boots? Don’t I wish. It’s a long walk back to the main road.” She was glad he was not dwelling on last night. After all, it probably wouldn’t have happened if not for the situation they’d been in and probably never would again…much to her regret. So she supposed it was best they try to forget it.

  They each went their way to tend to personal needs. Then they took bottles of water from the picnic basket and set out walking in the early morning sun.

  It took well over an hour to reach the main road, where they could only sit and wait for a car to come along.

  Rick said, “By now Mack has found out we weren’t on the plane and called the hotel to find out we haven’t checked out. He’s going to be in a panic.”

  “I know.” Liz stared at her cell phone and the flashing message denoting there was no service. “I’ll call him as soon as we get near a tower.”

  “And what will you tell him?”

  She shrugged. “That the battery went dead while we were in the middle of nowhere. What else?”

  “And let him know we spent the night together?”

  She tried to make light of the situation. “Well, he wouldn’t think anything happened. He knows you can’t stand me.”

  “Liz, I have never said I couldn’t stand you.”

  “You didn’t exactly go around telling people you’d like to sleep with me, either.”