A Man Worth Marrying

by Phyllis Halldorson

  While she gathered up those items, she remembered her brush and comb. It wouldn't hurt to take her curling iron and blow-dryer too, and what about a change of underwear—

  That thought finally registered, and she cut it off with a mortified gasp. Without even realizing it, she was packing for an overnight trip.

  Abashed, she picked up the canvas bag and started to turn it over to empty it out, then stopped. Oh, what the hell. There wasn't a thing in there that she might not need for a one-day excursion, and even if there was, Gray wouldn't know it. She wasn't going to repack.

  Gray picked her up at her apartment right on time, and started the day off joyfully with a lingering kiss. He, too, was dressed warmly and in Western-style clothes, complete with the Stetson hat.

  Eve chuckled and touched the wide brim. "Hey, what happened to the TV reporter I made a date with? Looks like I got a cowboy, instead. All that's missing are the guns."

  His blue eyes twinkled. "All men are cowboys in Deadwood, sweetheart, and it looks like that schoolmarm I asked to accompany me turned out to be a cowgirl." He held her away from him and looked her over. "What's more, there's not a thing missing from her."

  They both laughed, and within a few minutes were in the Jaguar and on their way. They drove as far as a truck stop, on the outskirts of Rapid City, famous for its man-size breakfasts and finally rolled into Deadwood around ten o'clock.

  "Okay, Luv, what do you want to do first?" tie asked as he parked the car. "The casinos are up and running, the shops are open and waiting for us to come and spend our money, and there are always several gold mine tours that run every so often during the day."

  Eve stepped out of the car and stretched. "Well, why don't we be really decadent and start off the day at the slot machines. I've got a twenty-dollar bill hidden in my wallet. That's my gambling money. When it's gone, I'll quit and go on to something else."

  He got out of the car, too, and came around to meet her at the front. "Sure, you will," he teased, "and it never rains unless I forecast that it will."

  She looked up at him. "You don't think I can do it?"

  They started to walk. "I'm sure you think you can, but twenty one-dollar tokens will be gone before you even get warmed up."

  "I don't play with dollars," she explained. "I play the nickel machines only."

  He gave her an odd look, somewhere between disbelief and astonishment. "You're almost too good to be true, do you know that?"

  She was uncomfortable with such high praise. "Oh, come on, Gray," she said lightly. "I work hard for my money. I'm not going to just throw it away. Twenty dollars isn't too much to spend for entertainment, especially since I don't get up here often. But anything over that is a foolish risk that I can't afford. Please don't think I've sprouted wings just because I try to keep my finances under control."

  Gray put his arm around her waist and clasped her to his side as they walked. "Okay, I won't look for wings on you if you don't expect horns to germinate out of my head—because I'm going to play with dollars instead of dimes."

  "Deal," she said happily as they turned into the lobby of the Midnight Star casino where all of movie star Kevin Costner's costumes were displayed.

  True to her word, Eve quit gambling when the last of her twenty dollars was gone. Gray, against her protest, stopped then, too, even though he was still ahead.

  "I didn't bring you here just to gamble," he said as he cashed in his winnings. "I want us to do whatever pleases you. So what's next on the agenda?"

  They spent the rest of the day bouncing from one activity to another. They toured the Broken Boot mine and learned how a real gold mine operated in the Old West; exclaimed over the '76 Museum with the largest collection of authentic horse-drawn vehicles that brought supplies and settlers to the gold camps; browsed the rustic boutiques; and climbed Boot Hill to view the graves of Wild Bill Hickok, Calamity Jane, Preacher Smith, Potato Creek Johnny, and other long-ago legendary figures.

  However, the most breathtaking sight of all was the panoramic view of Deadwood at sunset.

  By then it was dinnertime, and Gray suggested they eat in the renovated dining area of the historic Franklin Hotel. That reminded Eve that she was going to have to make a decision soon about spending the night here—with him.

  That quandary had been in the back of her mind all day, but she kept pushing it away, unwilling to deal with it until later.

  Well, "later" had caught up with her, and she couldn't put her decision off much longer. They were going to have to make plans one way or the other. She wanted Gray so much, but she didn't want to be his "significant other". On the other hand, that's all he was offering now, or ever would offer.

  They settled on the Franklin Hotel restaurant, which was known to feature the best steak in this vast cattle country. They were waiting for their dessert to be served, when Gray put his hand over Eve's on the table. "Have you made up your mind yet about what you want to do this evening? We can take in the reenactment in the old town hall of the trial of Jack McCall for the murder of Wild Bill Hickok, drive to Spearfish and see the Passion Play, or…"

  He hesitated, and she sensed that he wasn't going to pressure her to spend the night with him. It was all up to her now.

  She took a deep breath, and hoped she wasn't about to make the biggest mistake of her life. "I prefer the 'or,' if you don't mind."

  His face lit up and he squeezed her hand. "Mind? You've just made me the happiest man on earth."

  He raised her hand to his mouth and kissed it, just as the waiter arrived with their blueberry pie.

  It seemed to Gray that it took forever for them to finish eating, register at the hotel, and be shown to their room. But once the door closed behind them, he took Eve in his arms and did what he'd been dying to do all day: he kissed her, passionately.

  At first she seemed somewhat restrained in her response, and he tried to take it easy and hold back a little. After all, they had the entire night, and he had to admit it bothered him that she obviously wasn't very experienced at this. Was it possible that she was a virgin?

  No, he couldn't believe that. She was twenty-four years old and had graduated from college. Also, she'd mentioned something about having a relationship at one time that didn't work out.

  He nuzzled the sensitive hollows on either side of her neck and felt her heartbeat speed up. She tipped back her head, making it easier for him to feather kisses across her smooth, graceful throat. He could actually feel the little purring sounds she was making.

  They pushed each other's jackets off their shoulders and let them fall to the floor. Then he pulled her sweatshirt over her head and tossed it aside, only to discover that she had on a T-shirt under that.

  His hands ached for the touch of her bare flesh, but her fingers fumbling with the pearl snaps on his flannel shirt were almost as erotic. It took all his patience to stand still and let her take her time, instead of ripping the snaps apart.

  It wasn't until she got the blasted thing open that he was reminded that he had also worn a T-shirt under it. They looked at each other for a brief moment, then broke out into laughter.

  "I suggest we get out of our boots, at least," he teased. "Things could get a little uncomfortable if we don't."

  He hoped a bit of humor would keep him from going up in flames, or rushing her.

  "I'll go along with that," she said, and sat down on the side of the bed.

  Gray hunkered down in front of her and pulled off first one of her boots, then the other.

  "Now it's my turn," she insisted, and stood.

  He put his arms around her and drew her close. "If that's what you want," he murmured into her hair, and ran his fingers down her spine.

  He felt her shiver and knew she was as excited as he. He was overwhelmingly tempted to lay her down on the bed and take her right then and there, boots and all, but the very fact of that temptation made him determined not to give in to it.

  He shouldn't be doing this at all, he thought. She wa
s so young and inexperienced compared to him. The least he could do was take his time and make it as memorable for her as he could. She'd apparently had at least one lover who was less than satisfactory.

  "Gray, I can't take your boots off if you don't sit down," she teased him playfully, and all his hesitation evaporated.

  "Oh, Eve, I want you," he groaned. He cupped her derriere and lifted her enough to rub his groin into hers, to relieve some of the pressure in his swollen manhood. She uttered a sharp little cry, and surprised him by locking her knees against his hips and pushing even closer to him, throwing him off balance.

  They tumbled onto the bed and started groping at the clothes each of them still wore. He tugged at her T-shirt, trying to get it out from under her tight-fitting jeans. She had her hand between their entwined bodies, fumbling for the snaps on their zippers—and nearly driving him over the edge.

  He'd been vaguely aware of a noise in the background, but paid no attention until he heard a man's voice calling his name, quietly at first but more loudly each time it was uttered.

  "Mr. Flint, please open the door! I have an urgent message for you! Mr. Flint, I must talk to you!"

  Gray was enraged. What a time to be interrupted! Besides, nobody knew he was here.

  By now, Eve had heard it, too. She tried to sit up, but he held her down. He couldn't let her go—not now.

  "Just lie still and keep quiet, sweetheart," he whispered. "Whoever it is will give up and go away."

  "No, you must answer it," she insisted. "He'll have the whole hotel roused if this goes on much longer. Who is it?"

  "I don't have any idea," he growled. "I didn't tell a soul we were coming up here. Did you?"

  "No, nobody."

  The knocking and calling came again. Gray swore as he stood up and rearranged his clothes, then headed for the door.

  "Who are you, and what do you want?" he called before turning the lock.

  "Highway Patrol, Mr. Flint," came the voice from the other side. "Would you please open the door? I have a message for you."

  Highway Patrol? What did they want with him? And how did they know where to find him?

  He glanced over his shoulder to make sure Eve was decently covered. She was sitting on the edge of the bed, bootless and endearingly tousled, but otherwise proper, So he grudgingly opened the door to confront a uniformed peace officer.

  "Well?" he barked, not giving an inch.

  The officer looked embarrassed. "Sorry to disturb you, sir, but you are Grayson Flint, the weatherman on TV, aren't you?"

  Gray's anger was slowly changing to anxiety. This was no case of mistaken identity. The officer had the man he was looking for. But why was he looking for him?

  "Yes, I'm Grayson Flint," he admitted, a little less belligerently this time. "What do you want? And how did you find me here?"

  "Sorry, sir, but do you mind if I come in? There are people out here in the hall eager to know what's going on that merits all the racket."

  Gray was caught in an uncomfortable dilemma. He didn't want Eve exposed as his overnight guest, but neither was he willing to discuss whatever it was that brought the police to his and Eve's hotel room in front of a hall full of curious onlookers.

  Fortunately, the decision was taken out of his hands by Eve herself. "By all means come in, Officer," she said from where she sat on the bed. "If you'd like, I can go down to the lobby—"

  "No way," Gray interrupted. "I don't know what's going on, but I haven't done anything you can't know about."

  He stepped back to allow the officer to enter, then shut the door. The other man took off his cap and twisted it nervously. "We've been looking for you for almost an hour, Mr. Flint. I've been told to tell you to call your wife. It's urgent."

  Gray blinked. What was going on, anyway? Had some of the guys at the TV station found out he and Eve were coming here today, and decided to play one of those stupid, embarrassing typically male pranks on him?

  "I'm afraid you're being used, Officer. I don't have a wife, but I do have some pretty raunchy pals at the TV station who aren't above pulling a stunt like this—"

  "I suggest you investigate, sir," he said as he reached into his breast pocket, pulled out a folded piece of paper and handed it to Gray. "The caller identified herself as Mrs. Bambi Flint, and said she was calling from the hospital at Rapid City. There's been an accident—"

  Shock immobilized Gray for a moment. "Bambi! Has something happened to Tinker?"

  He heard Eve gasp, and then felt her comforting hand on his shoulder. But he was too stunned to respond to her. "Bambi Flint is my ex-wife, Officer. Did she say anything about our daughter, Tinker? Is she ill or injured?"

  The other man shook his head. "I don't know. I didn't take the call when it came in, and all the dispatcher told me was that the woman sounded pretty hysterical. She asked us to find you and tell you to call her immediately at the number written on the paper."

  Gray didn't even respond, but strode across the room and dialed the number on the old-fashioned telephone that matched the other furnishings. As he listened to the ring at the other end, he heard Eve and the officer talking quietly in the background.

  Finally he heard someone pick up the phone at the other end. "This is Grayson Flint," he said tersely. "I understand my ex-wife and daughter have been brought there following an accident. Can you tell me how they are?"

  The woman's voice answered. "Names, please."

  "Bernice and Sarah Flint, but they may be registered as Bambi and Tinker. Sarah, known as Tinker, is the child."

  There was a long pause while the woman checked her files, and Gray paced nervously in the restricted space allowed by the phone cord. "Mr. Flint, Mrs. Flint has only cuts and bruises. The child is still being treated, and I have no information on her yet, but Mrs. Flint has asked us to let her talk to you as soon as you call."

  "All right, fine, put her on."

  There was another wait while he paced some more, then finally Bambi spoke. "Gray! Oh, Gray, please come. I need you." She did sound hysterical.

  "Bambi, what happened?" he demanded. "What kind of accident was it, and how is Tinker? Is she badly hurt?"

  "I think so," Bambi sobbed. "She was all bloody, and crying…they brought both of us here in an ambulance… The paramedics were working on her…"

  Bambi sniffled. "Oh, darling, where are you? I couldn't find you… I tried every place I could think of… Please, come quickly. They won't let me be with her in the examining room. I need you so—"

  "I'm leaving immediately," he said shortly. "Has Jim been notified? Is he with her now?" He trusted Jim—Dr. James Whitney—Tinker's pediatrician and Gray's golfing partner.

  "I don't know. I haven't seen him, but I can ask."

  "Never mind, I don't want to waste any more time. I'll be there in about an hour."

  He broke off the connection, then turned to Eve. "Tinker's been injured in an accident. I don't know what kind or how badly, but we have to leave right away."

  "Of course," Eve said, and he saw the shock and pain in her expressive eyes as he shifted his gaze to the officer.

  "Thanks, Officer," Gray said, and put out his hand. "I appreciate your hunting me down."

  The officer took the proffered hand. "That's my job. I just hope your little girl's all right."

  Eve cringed in the seat beside Gray as he raced the little Jaguar with the big engine down the mountainside. She knew that he was a good driver, and she could certainly understand his urgent need to get to the hospital and find out how badly his daughter was injured, but still, the speed at which he was traveling was dangerous.

  She had an urgent need, too: the need to comfort him and assure him everything was all right. But she couldn't. She didn't know any more about what had happened than he did. She'd taken the opportunity to question the highway patrol officer while Gray was talking to Bambi, but he didn't have much information, either.

  "I just don't understand what could have happened," Gray said while
he concentrated on the road ahead of him. "It was probably a car accident, but I never found out for sure."

  Thank heavens that was one question Eve could assure him of. She put her hand on his thigh. "It was an automobile accident. I asked the officer, and he said, according to their report, it was a one-vehicle collision—but that's all he knew."

  Gray groaned. "I knew something like that was going to happen someday. Bambi drives like a bat out of hell. I've threatened several times to have her license taken away from her, but she always promised to be more careful."

  Speaking of a bat out of hell, Eve was tempted to point out that that was the way he was driving now, but she restrained herself.

  Instead, she ran her fingertips over his thigh. Not enough to take his mind off his driving, but hopefully enough to relax him a little.

  It did the trick. He let up a fraction on the gas, and put his hand over hers. "Did that officer tell you how the highway patrol knew we were in Deadwood? I was careful not to tell anybody where we were going because I didn't want us to be disturbed. I didn't even bring my cell phone."

  "Neither did I." Eve admitted. "But somehow Bambi knew we were there. Apparently she called the highway patrol and told them you were in Deadwood and that there'd been an emergency at home. She needed to get in touch with you. She gave them your car make and license, and all they had to do was look for it, which, in case you hadn't noticed, is easy. It sticks out like a red flag."

  He grunted and put his hand back on the steering wheel as they continued to hurtle down the road.

  At the outskirts of Rapid City, Gray finally slowed down somewhat. Even so, the tires squealed and both of them were thrown forward—though restrained by seat-belts—when Gray slammed on the brakes in front of the hospital.

  Without a word he opened his door, leaped out of the car, and ran through the wide double doors into the emergency room. Eve wasn't far behind him. Not far enough to miss the sight of Bambi running toward him, blood stains on her clothes, tears streaming down her face.