A muscle tightened in Kieran's jaw. "The injunction only halts the work. It doesn’t give you the property."
"With no one working, no one has any business being here." His cousin smirked. “Unless they change their minds.”
“Like hell!” said Lew, one of the few who’d stuck around.
A squeal from Mary Anne cut off any response. Pointing toward the side of the cabin, she cried, "There’s the cub!.”
“Don’t go near it.” Samantha raised a hand to keep her back. "I’m sure the mother's still close by."
“Look.” Kieran’s gaze fixed on the young lion. Only its forequarters were in view as, partially screened by bushes, the animal wriggled up from beneath the cabin. "So that's where it's been hiding."
“And here comes Mom,” Beth said.
Roughly fifty feet away, the mother lion poised with her body camouflaged against the dry landscape. Then those powerful jaws parted and she uttered a throaty call that sent spikes of fear up Samantha's back.
The cub, unfazed by the nearness of humans, bounded toward its mother. The big cat covered half-a-dozen feet in a leap to meet her offspring.
The mother sniffed her baby, and then the two of them loped away, the smaller cat frolicking beside the big one. They disappeared into a grove of trees.
Beatrice broke the mood by sneering, "Don't you just love happy endings?"
Thanks to the cub, this ending might be happier than Beatrice anticipated, Samantha realized as she pushed aside the bushes by the cabin. "Kieran, check this out.”
He peered past her. "Fantastic.” Producing a penlight, he kicked away a mound of moldering leaves to reveal a couple of stone steps.
They’d found Uncle Albert's hiding place.
Beatrice stomped her foot. "I forbid you to enter."
Kieran addressed Lew. "You read the injunction. Did it give my cousin the right to take possession of Hidden Hot Springs?"
"Absolutely not.”
"Then the only person trespassing around here is you," he told Beatrice.
With a shovel from his truck, Kieran cleared years of dirt and debris from what proved to be a short flight of steps leading down to a rotting, half-open doorway. “Stay back,” he called to the others. “There’s not much room.”
“I’m coming,” Samantha informed him.
His teeth flashed white against his dusty face. “I didn’t mean you, honey.”
The two of them entered a room not much larger than a closet. A musky smell arose from a flattened drift of old leaves that must have served as the cub's bed. Illuminated by the penlight, shelves along one side held a scattering of canned foods, cleaning supplies and tools.
"None of the other cabins has a basement like this," Kieran said. "It never occurred to me to look for one."
One a shelf sat a heavy metal box safe. Samantha heard his swift intake of breath as he lifted the lid. “Well?”
"It's here," Kieran said. "The diary. And some papers."
He carried everything into the sunlight. The remaining men, while craning their necks to see, blocked Beatrice from interfering.
Kieran flipped through the journal while Samantha examined the stack of papers. She was disappointed to find, in the top layer, only copies of supply orders, receipts and other routine matters.
"This might be useful." Kieran's finger traced a line of spidery writing in the diary. Aloud, he read, "It is with profound sorrow that I face the truth that I can neither trust nor respect my daughter. She shows no more love for me than a baby rattlesnake for its father."
“Bosh!” Beatrice called.
"It does testify to his state of mind," Lew observed. "And his intentions."
“What’s the date?” Beatrice demanded.
Reluctantly, Kieran said, "Three years before his death.”
“Meaningless,” his cousin said.
Samantha was nowhere near conceding defeat. “We’re not finished.”
“I am.” The woman held out her hand. “Give me those. I’ll make sure you don’t fabricate anything.”
“Leave my property.” Kieran fixed her with a commanding gaze. “Now.”
A couple of guys closed toward her. Rather than suffer being bodily ejected, the woman tossed her head, cast one last scowl in his direction, and marched off.
Most of the crowd had left, no doubt to enjoy the food at the festival. That suited Samantha fine. After promising to let Lew, Pete and the others know if they discovered anything useful, she and Kieran carted the diary and the papers to his cabin, away from the breeze and from passersby.
At the kitchen table, Kieran skimmed through the journal. He indicated an entry that he explained was dated eight months before Albert's death, referring to a quarrel with Beatrice.
“He doesn't give any details. He sounds so disgusted, he doesn't want to describe it.” Kieran lowered the book. “I’m afraid this isn’t likely to help our case."
“Mmm hmm.” Samantha barely heard him.
“Honey? You've been through a lot today. Why don't we knock off?"
She didn't answer. At the bottom of the stack she'd discovered a crumpled sheet that appeared to have been wadded and then smoothed out again. As if, she thought, Albert had almost thrown it away.
"Samantha?" Kieran prompted.
She couldn't tear her eyes from the page. Could she be hallucinating?
Needing confirmation, she handed the sheet to Kieran. "According to this, Beatrice renounces all claim to her father's property in exchange for his forgiving a twenty-thousand-dollar loan."
Kieran read it twice before he glanced up. "She signed it. So did he. And listen to this: 'I further agree that if I breach the terms of this agreement and challenge my father's will, my debt becomes immediately due and payable.' "
They stared at each other.
“Not only doesn’t Beatrice have any claim to the property, she also owes her father’s estate twenty thousand dollars.” Kieran let out a whoop. Samantha grinned so hard her jaws ached.
"I think," Kieran said, "that it's time we rejoined the party."
*
He found his cousin ordering the dining hall staff to put the steaks back in the freezer. "They're too expensive for this lot," she commanded in a voice that must have carried over half the property. "Serve them hamburgers."
Obviously, she’d ignored his order to leave. Given the pleasure of confronting her, Kieran was glad for that. He’d had to rein in his impatience, however, long enough to stop at his office to scan the paper and send a copy to his attorney. After putting the original in his safe, he’d brought a copy to share.
As Kieran headed toward Beatrice, he was keenly aware of Samantha at his heels. Although he longed to say some very private things to her, especially after their brush with death, a need for justice drove him forward. That, and a desire to relieve his men of their concerns.
"You owe me twenty thousand dollars," he told his cousin, and waved the paper. "Here’s your signature. I'm prepared to have an expert verify it."
"Give it here!" Beatrice's angular hand slashed toward the page.
He let her have it. “It’s a copy.” Kieran felt no glee, just a sense of having emerged from a long, dark tunnel. Around them, people clustered to listen, but not too close.
“Beatrice, I'm sorry. I really am—sorry that you broke your father's heart and threw away the land that should have been yours,” Kieran said. “I'm sorry you've become so greedy you tried to rob these people of years of hard work. But I'm not sorry to tell you that according to this paper, not only do you have no claim to this land, but because you challenged the will, your debt is now due and payable."
“You forged my signature.” Crumpling the paper, Beatrice tossed it to the ground. One of the men retrieved it, smoothed it out and shared it with those around him. "I’ll fight you every step of the way, Kieran.”
“It’s not just a civil lawsuit any more.” Samantha moved forward, her small figure bristling with defiance. "When you went t
o court for the injunction and swore you were entitled to the inheritance, you committed perjury. That's a felony, Beatrice. You could land in prison."
Beatrice pressed her thin lips together until they turned white. Then, so fast Kieran almost missed it, the sharp fingernails lashed toward Samantha's cheek. Several onlookers gasped.
He caught his cousin's wrist. "We can add assault to that charge," he said. "If I were you, Beatrice, I'd drop the suit."
As anger twisted her features, it occurred to him that his cousin still had a gun in her purse. Would she dare use it in front of dozens of witnesses?
An animal became most dangerous when cornered—when it had nothing to lose. He didn’t mean to do that to Beatrice, despite the fact that she’d gladly have done it to him.
“Leave us alone, and I won’t seek repayment of your debt,” Kieran told her. “Nor will we bring your perjury to the DA’s attention.”
Despite the curl of her lip, he could tell she was calculating. Absorbing the turn of events, weighing his offer, figuring out her next move. And hitting a wall.
“You won’t demand the twenty thousand dollars?” She coughed, as if the words choked her.
“That’s right.”
“Or try to get back at me?”
She’d cost him and his men a lot of anxiety, but he’d rather end this now. “Not unless you give me reason to.”
“I’ll take you at your word,” Beatrice said stiffly. Then she stalked down the hill and, with any luck, out of his life.
A cheer went up, a spontaneous cry of joy from everyone within earshot. Kieran gave Samantha a hug.
"You're quite a woman," he said.
She rested her head on his chest. "This is the best Independence Day ever."
Men thumped his back and shook his hand. Others spread the news, resulting in bursts of gleeful shouting far and near.
As more workmen arrived to congratulate Kieran, Samantha drifted off to celebrate with her girlfriends. His longed-for moment of privacy would have to wait.
*
They sat on a blanket watching fireworks burst into the sky. It wasn't a huge display, and had been angled so the sparks fell on a patch of the highway rimmed with water buckets, but Kieran could swear he'd never seen colors so vivid.
Samantha nestled against him with her face uptilted to the sky. He could no longer hide from himself how much he loved this woman. He loved the light in her eyes, her wild and unpredictable spirit, and her courage.
When he'd seen her drive away that afternoon, he'd considered that he had no right to interfere in whatever she chose to do. But after a few restless minutes, a compulsion drove him to check on her safety. Wherever she went, in his heart he would always be watching over her.
Of course, it would be easier to watch over her in Hidden Hot Springs than if she were sailing the Caribbean.
A great green glob shot upward through the darkness and exploded into a shower of emerald stars. That gave Kieran an idea. Farfetched, but why not try?
"I'll be back," he murmured, and slipped away from Samantha.
"Hey!" she said, but he was already loping across the hill.
*
Samantha couldn't believe Kieran had left her just when the fireworks were reaching their climax. As columns of white and blue ripped upward, the cold void where he had been sitting grew until it swallowed the vivid colors. Without Kieran to share this, the experience fell flat.
Around her in the darkness, she became aware of little huddles of people. Some were couples who’d met this weekend; others were already making wedding plans. She imagined she could hear them whispering and chuckling, although in reality the cannonade of the fireworks blotted out other sounds.
Count your blessings. The threat that had hung over their heads was gone. Samantha had contributed, in a small way, to leaving this place in far better shape than when she’d arrived. She ought be happy.
Instead, her spirits drooped. Why didn't Kieran care enough to enjoy the little time they had left together?
A final triumphant shower of light bloomed into the sky. Red-and-green, blue-and-white flowers dominated the darkness in a seemingly endless series of explosions.
Gasps went up, followed by applause. A silvery cloud hung in place, then slowly dispersed.
That was when Samantha noticed a cluster of lights shimmering toward her across the hill. "What's that?" someone called.
"Must be the ghost of Pegleg Smith!" shouted Mack, raising a roar of laughter. Samantha joined in. She was going to miss this place, and these people.
"Looks like sparklers," came Ernie's voice. "A whole bunch of them."
There'd been plenty left from earlier, but Samantha couldn't imagine who would be playing with them now. Oddly, she realized, the sparklers were held in close formation, as if to spell words.
"What's it say?" she asked Pete and Mary Anne, who sat nearby.
"Kinda hard to make out," Pete admitted.
The twinkling array neared, moving toward the area where Samantha sat. At closer range, she could tell the sparklers had been stuck into a rectangular board, forming the letters KLUVSS.
"What’s that mean?" she muttered to no one in particular.
Closer and closer the sparklers came, halting a few yards in front of Samantha. Kieran’s face peered out from behind the board.
“What does it say?” she asked.
Instead of responding, he and his accomplices lifted the board higher. The spaces between some of the letters sorted themselves out in Samantha’s brain.
"K LUVS S." She started to laugh and then discovered that tears were running down her cheeks. "Oh, Kieran."
"It's the hest I could do," he said. "I couldn’t fit in 'Marry Me.' Sorry."
Her throat caught. “This is a proposal?"
"Technically, no," he said. "We're already married. I'm asking you to stay."
Tears ran down Samantha’s cheeks until Pete broke the silence. "Say yes, for heaven's sake!"
"Put the guy out of his misery.” That sounded like Mack.
Samantha managed to bark a single, less than satisfactory response. "Yes."
A few people cheered.
"But only on one condition," added Kieran.
His friends hissed.
"Let’s have another wedding," he said. "I want to put a real ring on your finger and know it's going to stay there."
"Yes!" Samantha's voice rang out louder than she'd expected. She didn’t have to add anything, because their friends’ congratulations filled the air.
Only after shaking hands and sharing a group hug did she find a chance to speak to Kieran alone. “I’m only agreeing to another wedding for practical reasons,” she teased.
“Practical reasons?” He cocked an eyebrow.
"To be sure I get my money's worth out of that dress."
At his startled expression, she began to laugh, and was still laughing when he kissed her.
Chapter Eighteen
With three brides, Samantha thought, it's a good thing they built the ballroom big.
There were four sections of seating and three aisles, but only one minister, from Mary Anne's church in San Diego. As she paced toward Kieran, Samantha peeked at Beth in the aisle to her left and then Mary Anne to her right. The only friend missing was Alice, who stood among the attendants, but her turn would come soon.
Masses of flowers arranged over trellises transformed the hotel ballroom into a bower. A wall of windows on the side revealed splashing fountains amid a pool surrounded by greenery.
Samantha could hardly believe how quickly work had progressed. The hotel was scheduled to open in another two weeks.
Hank’s trial had taken place in late August. Mrs. Gray—whose real name was Margaret Torrance—had plea-bargained in exchange for testifying against her brother. By the time he got out of the lockup, he'd be in search of a retirement home.
So much for sisterly devotion.
As for the lion and her cub, they'd been relocated to a
remote mountain region. The rangers had said it was partly for the cub's protection, since it had lost its fear of humans.
Samantha hoped the cats were happy. Without them, Hank would have shot her, and Beatrice would have destroyed Hidden Hot Springs.
Now here Samantha was, draped in white, hat perched atop her head, traipsing down the aisle again. Third time’s a charm.
She forgot everything else when she saw the glow on Kieran's face. He stood by the altar, blond hair tamed for the occasion, tuxedo molded to his broad shoulders.
The man of her dreams.
Samantha reached him, peripherally aware of Lew taking Beth’s hand and Mary Anne joining Pete. Love for Kieran filled her, but it left room to cherish her friends and their happiness, too.
As she listened to the ceremony, as she repeated her vows knowing this time it was forever, Samantha marveled that she didn't feel trapped or restless at the prospect of staying in one place for always. She might still travel—with Kieran. But there were so many challenges right here, building a community, that she was in no hurry.
After they all said their vows, the minister introduced the married couples to their guests. Samantha exchanged broad smiles with Beth and Mary Anne. Along with Alice, they had become the sisters she'd never had.
"Make sure you throw me the bouquet," muttered Alice from an aisle seat.
"You'll probably catch all three," Samantha replied, not caring how many people overheard.
"That's fitting. It'll be my third time around," said her friend, more cheerfully.
"Me, too," said Samantha. "In a manner of speaking.”
In a haze of bliss, she marched up the aisle with Kieran. The other two couples, who’d insisted that their leader go first, followed right behind.
In the lobby, friends closed around, showering them with good wishes and hugs. A band struck up a melody in the second ballroom, where the newly hired hotel staff had set up lunch tables around a dance floor.
At the head table, Samantha wished her brain weren't swimming with excitement. She’d like to slow everything down so she could treasure each moment. The videographer recording the event would never be able to match her kaleidoscope of impressions: the tickle of champagne against her palate, the clink of glasses and rustle of guests being seated, the merry faces of so many friends.
Run, Run, Runaway Bride Page 20