Must-Have Husband (Summer Grooms Series)

by Baird, Ginny

  “Where?”

  “Over there. I think I see something.”

  Linda shivered, seizing her by the elbow. “You mean like something big, with long, sharp teeth?”

  “Stop being such a chicken,” Connie scolded. Night noises sounded all around them, and Connie gripped her sister’s hand.

  “Now who’s being the baby?” Linda whispered.

  “Shh!” She pulled Linda forward. “Come on, I think it’s a campfire.”

  “Are you sure we should go through that thicket? Could be loaded with scary things.”

  “There’ll be less of those around the fire,” she said, giving Linda’s hand a tug. “Let’s go.”

  As they made their way through the thick brush, Connie saw she’d been right. It was a campfire for sure. Neatly ringed by large stones and blazing in its glory. There was a tent set up nearby. A tin coffeepot sat on a flat rock by the fire, beside a single mug.

  “Where are the campers?” Linda asked under her breath.

  Connie whispered, her voice trembling. “Maybe the bears got them.”

  “Very funny.”

  “I wasn’t trying to be.”

  Just then, the two heard rustling overhead. The girls looked up with a start, spotting a dark figure shimmying down the tree and moving toward them.

  This was it. Connie knew it. She and her baby sister were about to become something’s dinner. How she wanted to run. Bolt like a streak of light straight to that fire and beyond. Pick up a club, weapon, coffeepot… Huh? Well, anything! Maybe one of those very big stones over there. Yeah, that would work. If only she could get her feet to move. But they were stuck like lead in quicksand.

  “Connie!” Linda said softly. “Let’s go!” She yanked on Connie’s arm. But Connie just stood there, mesmerized, transfixed by the fact that she was living out her final moments. Destiny had a way of catching up with everybody, so maybe it was time she met her fate. She’d deceived her family into thinking she was still getting married, letting them go to a lot of unnecessary trouble and expense. And now she was going, to pay…in spades. Maybe if the beast filled up on her, he’d be too full to gobble up her sister. “Connie!” Linda wrapped two hands around Connie’s wrist and tugged with all her might, yanking her up and off her feet.

  “Ahh!” Connie screeched as something loud bellowed from above.

  A split second later, heaven and earth came crashing down in a heap, landing in a huge mass in the very spot where Connie had just stood. She stared at Linda agape. “You saved my life!”

  “Yeah, but from what?”

  They stared down at the pile of branches and leaves shielding a groaning form. “Oohhh. Aahh.”

  Linda cupped her mouth with a hand.

  “What is it?” Connie asked.

  “A bear?” Linda offered uncertainly.

  “Since when do bears make those kinds of noises?”

  “I don’t know. I don’t speak bear.”

  Connie squinted through the darkness as rays of light from the campfire cast a sporadic glow on their subject. She cautiously inched forward and gingerly lifted a branch.

  “Don’t get too close,” Linda warned.

  Connie stared in disbelief at two slightly worn hiking boots protruding from under the mass. “Oh my goodness.”

  “I knew it! It’s a bear!”

  Connie lifted another branch, then sucked in a breath. “It’s a man.”

  “A what? What was he doing up there?”

  As if in answer, a long coil of rope spiraled down from the trees, dropping in a heap on top of the leafy pile. Linda reached forward and picked up the rope, which dangled in something like a hangman’s noose.

  “Oh my God,” Connie gasped.

  “Yeah. Totally.”

  Mac thought he’d heard talking beneath him, but that was unlikely in this part of the woods. Maybe he’d had such a long day he was hearing things. He had the rope almost set, but decided to prop it in the crook of a branch and leave it a sec to check out the noises below. Maybe some wildlife was searching for kibbles around the fire. He’d need to scoot down and shoo it away before finishing his work.

  He was halfway down the tree when his darned boots slipped again, causing him to skid. Maybe if he grabbed that branch over there to steady himself, he’d be able to ease down slowly. But no! The branch snapped unexpectedly, hurtling him into the darkness below.

  The next thing Mac knew, his back ached and his head was killing him. To make matters worse, there appeared to be whispering around him, as prickly prongs poked at him from every which way. Is it my imagination, or did something just kick my boot?

  This is one hell of a hangover, he thought before passing out again.

  Chapter Two

  “Don’t kick him!” Connie yelped.

  “I’m just trying to see if he’s, um…with us.”

  “Alive, you mean? Good God, Linda. Let’s unbury him.”

  “Bad choice of words.”

  “Sorry.”

  They got to work quickly, casting aside the branches and leaves.

  “Wow, he’s a man all right,” Linda said as firelight from the campfire illuminated his handsome face. “A darned good-looking one at that.”

  “Linda! Now’s not the time to think about good-looking!” Although she had to admit her sister had a point. He was pretty hot. Even in that position.

  “Come on,” Linda said, “help me get him over to the fire so we can examine his wounds.”

  “You don’t move a man who’s fallen.”

  “You’re right.”

  Connie set her chin in one hand while resting her elbow in the other. “Maybe we should try talking to him? Getting him to come around?”

  A soft voice carried on the night wind, calling Mac out of his slumber. “Um, sir? Are you all right?” He awakened to find lovely blue eyes peering into his own. They were set in the face of an angel with short blonde hair and lovely pale skin. She radiated heaven’s glow, a soft ring of light from beyond framing her head.

  “You’re an angel?” he asked, scarcely able to believe it. He thanked the heavens for sending one approximately his age. That was what they called divine providence. Or so he thought. He couldn’t remember that far back in church school, not that he’d be mentioning this to St. Peter.

  She pursed her lips a beat and stared at him. “Um, no. Not really.”

  He got it. She was one of those messenger types. An angel wannabe, waiting to earn her wings. And, boy, how he wanted to help her, do any little thing she wanted… If only his head didn’t smart so much. He tried lifting it, then set it back down with a thunk, grimacing at the pain.

  “Do you think you can move?” she asked in a voice so sweet Mac thought he heard a chorus of harp strings.

  “I’m not sure,” he answered hoarsely.

  “Ask him if anything’s broken,” another voice said from nearby.

  Mac rolled his eyes toward the clearing, spying another angel, a bit smaller than this one… Wait a minute. Wearing a Los Angeles Dodgers baseball cap? Mac sat up with a start, and little birds began chirping all around him, darting through flecks of light. “I think I need to lie back down.”

  As his eyelids fluttered shut, Mac thought he spied flames lapping the darkness in the distance. He hoped that wasn’t a bad sign. He didn’t seem to be thinking too straight at the moment. The Dodgers. Well, I’ll be. I never knew God played favorites.

  Connie stared at her sister as the man passed out again. Thunder rumbled above and little flecks of rain began to strike the surrounding foliage.

  “Oh no. Not again.”

  “What are we going to do?” Connie asked with despair.

  Linda adjusted her cap against the rain that was streaming down harder. “We need to get him to shelter.”

  Connie agreed. Though she couldn’t see for the life of her how she and her petite little sister were going to move this bear of a man. “I know, but we certainly can’t carry him.”

  Linda
shook her head. “How about if we drag him?”

  “By what? His beard?”

  “Hang on. Keep him dry.”

  Linda scurried away toward the tent as Connie angled herself over the guy, holding her jacket out sideways to keep as much moisture off as possible. “Hurry it up, will ya?” she called back to Linda, who seemed to be taking her time in the tent.

  “Got it!” her sister proclaimed, emerging with a curled-up bedroll.

  A makeshift stretcher. What a great idea! “You’re a genius,” she told Linda as her sister carted the piece over and unrolled it next to the man.

  “Okay, now help me,” Linda instructed. “Let’s get the top end first.”

  Connie bent low to grip the guy under one arm, while Linda grabbed him by the other.

  “On three! Watch his head, now. One… Two…”

  Goodness, he weighed a ton.

  “Three!”

  “Harrumph.” Both girls tugged together, sliding the top part of the man’s torso onto the bedroll. The rain drove down harder, flecking his flannel shirt and dampening their clothes.

  “Better hurry it up,” Connie urged.

  They got his legs on next, then prepared to tug from the head end of the bedroll. “Are you sure this will work?” Connie asked. “What if we injure him further?”

  “What if he drowns in the rain?”

  “You’re right.”

  Seconds later, they gave the bedroll a tug. Nothing happened. They met each other’s gazes, then yanked harder. The man’s hands and arms flopped to the side. “Oh no!”

  Then one of his feet spilled off the bedroll too.

  “We’ve got to keep him in place somehow,” Connie called through the rain that by now was drenching their clothing.

  Linda adjusted her cap and scanned the area. Quickly, she took up the rope that had fallen out of the trees.

  “You want us to rope him?” Connie asked in shock.

  “Just temporarily.”

  Connie watched Linda take charge employing some sort of skill she’d supposedly learned in Girl Scouting. Although Linda’s time in the Scouts had been limited to one year in the second grade, and Connie didn’t believe Brownies were primed in tying people up.

  “Why don’t you just pop an apple in his mouth and be done with it?”

  “Stop it.” She finished her work, securing his wrists and ankles together, and somehow linking both ends before tying him to the bedroll. Linda turned expectant eyes on her sister. “Well? Are you going to help me, or aren’t you?”

  “Yeah, sure.” Connie bent toward the man, hoping to goodness he wouldn’t remember this. This was the kinkiest thing she’d ever done. Even if it was for the right reasons. As she positioned herself near the top of the bedroll, Connie raised an eyebrow at her sister. “Where did you really learn that thing with the ropes? Did Beau teach you?”

  “You, sister, have an all-too-vivid imagination,” she said as they heaved the bedroll forward.

  Connie and Linda sat beside the prone man in the cramped space of the tent while rain pitter-pattered above. He just lay there snoozing, looking none too worse for the wear, considering the beating he’d taken. He stood about six feet tall and was fairly broad at the shoulders, well built with a solid chest. He was obviously athletic and kept himself in shape, most likely by doing rugged outdoor stuff like mountain climbing. Although considering he couldn’t even climb a tree without falling, maybe scaling mountains wasn’t such a good idea.

  Connie glanced at her sister, who was neatly coiling the rope. They’d found a battery-powered lantern with his gear, and it now illuminated the small area. “What are we going to do with him?”

  “Get him to help, if we can.”

  “How can we help him when we don’t even know where we are?”

  “Good point.”

  Connie studied his chiseled face in the lantern’s glow, wondering how he’d look without the beard. Not that it didn’t suit him. It most certainly did, giving him the air of a man of the wild. Someone who was confident—and comfortable—with nature. She fought an urge to reach out and stroke his cheek, just to see how it felt. She’d never dated anyone with facial hair.

  “Connie,” Linda cautioned. “What are you doing?”

  She looked down with a start to see she’d very nearly touched him. “I, uh…” She drew her fist to her mouth, faking a cough. “Was just warming my fingers by the lantern.”

  Linda gave her a suspicious look. “Sure you were.” She surveyed his face, addressing her sister. “He is pretty cute. You’ve got to admit it.”

  “Yes. If only he weren’t”—Connie lowered her voice—“suicidal.”

  “So maybe he was down on his luck?”

  “That’s a pretty drastic way out. And you know it.”

  A devious smile spread across Linda’s lips. “I wonder if he’d consider coming to Napa?”

  “What?”

  “I mean, just for a rest. You know, to recoup from his”—she eyed the coil of rope nearby—“dreadful ordeal.”

  “Are you out of your mind? We can’t take a strange man back to Napa.”

  “He’d couldn’t be any stranger than Walt. Or…? What was the name of the guy before?

  “Jake.”

  “That one was a nutcase. Whoohoo. Real Looney Tunes.”

  Connie heaved a breath. “We don’t even know who this guy is.”

  “Maybe we should check his pants? Look for ID?”

  Both girls eagerly sprang forward.

  “I’ll check,” Linda said, kneeling beside him and angling her hand over his jeans.

  “You’re married!” Connie elbowed in. “Let me do it.”

  Linda lifted an eyebrow and sat back on her haunches. “Well, go on. Don’t be shy about it,” she said as Connie wiggled her fingers into the man’s right front pocket. “Go for the gold.”

  “Stop it. I think I just found a”—she extracted a thin leather billfold—“wallet.”

  Linda snatched it away.

  “Hey!”

  Before she could stop her, Linda was scanning through a row of credit cards. “Aha!” she said, withdrawing a driver’s license. “We have before us one Adam McCormack, but apparently,” she said, flipping through an assortment of billfold photos, “he goes by Mac.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “It’s who all these women have autographed their photos to.”

  Connie twisted her lips, thinking it was no wonder. When this guy was in his right mind, he was probably quite a catch.

  “Well, well…” Linda baited. “Will you look at her. And what a cutie too. I’ll bet this one was his favorite,” she said, thumping her finger against one picture in particular.

  Connie raised her brow, and Linda turned the billfold in her direction. The worn color photo was of the most adorable yellow lab and a little boy, roughly ten years old. “Aw. Do you think that’s him? I mean, Mac? As a kid?”

  “I’m guessing, yeah.” Linda closed the wallet and handed it to Connie. “Kind of sentimental. Keeping a photo of his first dog. Don’t you think?”

  Connie’s heart softened, thinking this man couldn’t be all bad. Life must have been awfully hard on him to push him so far over the edge.

  Mac’s eyelids fluttered, and she shoved the wallet back in his pocket. He reached up and grabbed her wrist before she could withdraw her hand.

  “Well, hey,” he said groggily.

  Connie felt her face flame “Um. Hello,” she offered weakly. “I was just checking your…credentials.”

  “That makes sense.” He smiled warmly. “Wouldn’t want to tag the wrong body.”

  She felt herself flush brighter. “No.”

  She tried to pull her arm away, but he held her fast with a quizzical look. “Am I dead yet?”

  “Of course no—”

  “Yes!” Linda yelped with enthusiasm.

  Mac raised his head to peer at her.

  Connie set her jaw and glanced at Linda before
shooting Mac an apologetic look. “Will you excuse us one second?”

  She motioned her sister to the far side of the tent, then hissed in a whisper, “Just what do you think you’re doing?”

  “What? Dead could work.” Her cheeks took on a rosy glow. “We could tell him Napa is heaven.”

  Connie gasped. “I can’t believe you said that.”

  “It’s just a little lie.”

  “You really have flipped your lid.”

  “Think about it, Connie. He could come home with us, be there for Grandpa’s birthday.”

  “As what?”

  “Your betrothed, of course. That way, you wouldn’t have to ruin the party with your news. We could play this little game to get you through it, then—”

  “Absolutely not. You’re talking crazy.”

  “We could get him help,” her sister tempted. “Secure the best psychiatric care money can buy.”

  She fumed at Linda’s ludicrous suggestion. “And here stands the woman, who—not hours ago—was telling me that now’s the time to fess up. Come clean with the whole family.”

  She pinned Linda in place with her stare. After a prolonged beat, Linda dropped her eyes, awash with shame. “You’re right. It was a stupid idea. I never should have mentioned it.”

  Mac shook his head, trying to clear it. It still hurt quite a bit and his body ached all over, but he was built tough and would soon get over it. He’d had the wind knocked out of him before and had always recovered. What he didn’t get was why his wrists felt raw. He massaged them, studying them curiously. Wait a minute. Is that rope burn?

  Mac raised his brow at the women whispering on the far side of the tent. They both turned to look at him. “You’re sitting up!” the one in the baseball cap said.

  But it was the other girl with the short blonde hair who held his attention. He chuckled to himself, thinking he’d envisioned her as an angel when he was still coming to. Of course, that halo must have been the campfire’s glow illuminating her from behind. And then when he’d nearly caught her feeling him up, it was all he could do to keep a straight face. Going for his credentials, right. She’d blushed so brightly when he caught her with her hand down his pants, he couldn’t help making that joke about being dead. For some weird reason, though, the girls didn’t seem to find it funny at all. In fact, he had the notion they’d taken him seriously.