The Maverick Marriage

by Cathy Gillen Thacker

“Which up until now was supposed to go to me,” Trace interjected unhappily.

  “—so that goes to you, too, even if you don’t choose to marry Trace again. I think you ought to have a place on the Silver Spur for you and your boys that will be yours and theirs in perpetuity. And in any case, Trace will have a place here for his sons, too. Same deal. Neither property can be sold, traded or otherwise for the rest of your lives. And the fact that the two homes are more or less adjacent to each other will make it easier for your boys to socialize.”

  “He’s assuming an awful lot,” Susannah muttered, sounding distressed.

  “He always has,” Trace agreed mildly, feeling no more excited about the possibility of being neighbors. It had taken him years to get Susannah out of his heart and mind And now to have her thrust at him again, so unexpectedly. It was going to bring up a lot of memories, good and bad.

  “Naturally, I put a few strings on these gifts of mine,” Max continued from the screen. “One, you two must stick to each other like glue and stay under the same roof for the next forty-eight hours, with only three thirty-minute breaks apart. You break the rules, and the deal is off.

  “Should you agree to the terms of my will, however, which will, I might add, insure the financial security of your four kids for the rest of their lives, too, which is something important to think about,” Max said practically, “I will expect you to show up at the triple wedding ceremony on the bull’s-eye property, forty-eight hours from now, and get married right alongside Cody and his new bride, and Patience and her groom. As I said previously, in part I of my last will and testament, I’ve taken care of all the details, including the guest list, so all you need to do is get yourselves there.”

  Max smiled warmly at them both from the screen. “Either way, the two of you will be stuck together, living and maybe even working side by side, as long as you adhere to the terms of the will and remain on this ranch. So you might as well make the best of it.

  “And that being the case, I’ve got some advice for the two of you. There’s no use crying over spilt milk, ‘cause what’s done is done, ain’t no changing it. That means, Susannah, that you are going to have to forget about what kind of neglectful husband Trace was in the past, and start thinking about what kind of husband he could be, with a little loving guidance from you. And Trace, I know Susannah hurt you something fierce, walking out on you and your marriage after only three months, but there’s no way she can go back in time and fix that, either. So all you can do—all anyone can dois move on, the best way you know how.” Max raised his palm in a silencing gesture. “I know picking up where the two of you left off might seem an impossible task at the outset.” His blue glance turned serious as he continued, “It’s going to be a lot of work bringing those two young families of yours together and blending them into one. But I am confident that you two mavericks can do it. All you gotta do is listen to your hearts. ‘Cause if you do, you’ll know what to do when the time comes.” Max tipped his hat at them. “Adios,” he said softly. “And remember, I love you.” The screen went blank.

  48:00 hours and counting…

  THE ROOM VIBRATED with a poignant silence. “I can’t believe he’s gone,” Susannah murmured after a moment, her eyes full of tears. “Watching him on the videotape…Oh, Trace, he seemed so full of life.”

  “I know,” Trace said thickly.

  She wiped her eyes with a tissue. “Not that I agree with the terms of his will are in any way laudable—”

  “None of us do,” Trace lamented tightly.

  Susannah got up to pitch her tissue into the trash. Turning back to him in a drift of her trademark White Linen perfume, she asked curiously, “What was all that about Patience and Cody?”

  Trace stood and restlessly prowled the tiny linoleum-floored office. “Patience never got over being jilted at the altar. She’s been wanting to have a baby, via artificial insemination.” He leaned against the file cabinet, crossing his arms in front of him. “Max was opposed to her going to a clinic and having a stranger father her child…”

  Susannah leaned against the opposite corner, next to the chalkboard that traditionally carried the menus for the week. “I can imagine he would be.”

  Trace nodded in agreement, continuing, “So Max left Patience the horse-breeding operation and hired a ranch veterinarian, Josh Colter, to help her run it. Unfortunately, to Patience’s chagrin, Max also wants Josh to marry Patience and sire her children.”

  Susannah’s eyebrows drew together in a perplexed frown. “Did Patience know this man, or something?”

  “No. In fact, she had never even met him. That’s what makes it all the crazier, but you know how eccentric my uncle could be when he sets his mind on making something happen. No path is too far out of the way.”

  “Tell me about it,” Susannah murmured empathetically.

  “Not that her situation is any better than Cody’s,” Trace continued candidly, glad to focus on someone else’s problems rather than his own.

  Looking almost afraid to inquire, Susannah said, “What did Max arrange for Cody?”

  Trace paused, not sure where to start with that one. In some ways, Cody was fast becoming as unpredictably eccentric and frontier-wild as Max had been. While Patience was as free with advice to the lovelorn that she never seemed to follow herself. And he was passionately interested in building a business empire.

  Aware Susannah was still waiting for him to tell all, Trace sighed and rubbed the tense muscles in the back of his neck. “Have you seen Cody lately?”

  “Not since he was a kid,” Susannah said with an eloquent shrug.

  “Well, he eloped with Calhe Sheridan to Mexico seven years ago. Apparently, Callie ran out on him during their honeymoon, before their marriage was ever consummated. Cody’s been something of a…well, a wildman, ever since. Hasn’t shaved or cut his hair or wanted anything to do with another woman, period. Thinking Cody was never going to marry, Max found a bride for him, through this Western Ranch Wives video-matchmaking service. Cody’s none too happy about marrying a woman he has never even laid eyes on, of course, but in deference to Max’s last wishes, he at least went off to meet her.”

  Susannah shook her head, looking absolutely flabbergasted. Which was, Trace thought, the way all three of them had felt when part I of the will was played for them earlier, at the Fort Benton Gentlemen’s Club.

  “Poor Cody,” Susannah murmured compassionately. “Patience, too.”

  Trace studied her, unable to help but notice the direction her sympathy was aimed. He quirked an inquiring eyebrow, then drawled, “But not, I gather, poor us?”

  “I didn’t say that!” Susannah retorted, flushing with embarrassment. It was impossible to believe after all these years apart that Trace could still read as accurately between the lines as ever, at least where she was concerned.

  Like it or not, there was a part of her that was glad to see him, just as there was a part of her that was terrified. If he ever found out the real reason she had left him years ago, there would be hell to pay, she knew it.

  But there was no way he was going to find that out, she reassured herself. Not if she were cool and collected. And so completely, unexpectedly, outwardly greedy that she threw him off the track.

  “Well, I’m willing,” she announced breezily, with a willingness to do absolutely anything for money that she certainly did not feel. “How about you?”

  “You’ll marry me again? Just like that?”

  Susannah shrugged, wishing the small room didn’t feel so cramped. It wasn’t as if she didn’t know the man. The two of them were intimately acquainted with each other in every way. So what if he was a seasoned, mature, capable-of-anything thirty-eight now, instead of a gung-ho, fresh-out-of-college twenty-one? So what if he had the impeccable dress, short-cropped hair and take-charge manner of the wildly successful CEO that he was? He still had the same broad shoulders and solidly muscled, rugged, logger’s build on his imposing six-foot-two-inch frame, the same cl
assically handsome features, stubborn and somewhat angular jaw and probing ocean blue eyes. Heck, he even probably kissed and made love the same. So it wasn’t as if she had anything to be afraid of. Did she?

  “It’s not as if we haven’t done it before,” Susannah said a lot more cavalierly than she felt. Only this time, she thought wisely, they could have their brief marriage in name only.

  “It’s not as if we haven’t done anything before,” Trace replied as he crossed the small room in two long strides, and in a move that seemed as much testing as it was territorial, put both his hands lightly on her waist.

  Susannah planted her palm on his chest and backed out of his staying grip to keep him at bay. “I did not say that was part of the deal,” she said firmly.

  He regarded her in silence. After a moment, he said quietly, “You really want the cookbook deal, don’t you?”

  Actually, Susannah thought wearily, what she wanted was to be able to support her family in the style to which they had become accustomed, provide for their college educations, and be able to spend more time with her two boys. No easy task for a single mom.

  Figuring it would do no harm to admit as much, she told Trace frankly, “The last few years have left us all feeling pretty burned-out on big-city life. And I’m not just talking about the horrendous traffic or the high cost of living or the increasing crime in Los Angeles. We’ve also had to deal with the fires caused by the Santa Ana winds, which swept incredibly close to our home. Then there were the mud slides and floods from the torrential rains. Before that, the riots. The upshot is, I’ve been wanting to get my boys out of the city and into a safer, more tranquil environment for some time now. And those feelings multiplied tenfold after the last quake.”

  Trace looked upset. “You weren’t hurt?” he asked quickly.

  “No.” Susannah shook her head. “None of us were home at the time, thank God. But our house was damaged structurally and declared a total loss. Except for the personal affects we were able to salvage—we lost everything.” And that for her had been the last straw.

  “Insurance?”

  “Our policy didn’t cover earthquake damage. To get one that did was too expensive. And though the government was offering low-cost loans for rebuilding, I wasn’t sure I wanted to do that, either, I wasn’t sure my nerves could take it. So I moved us into temporary housing, and put our lot on the market, hoping to sell.”

  “No takers.”

  “None. Of course, being that close to a major fault line, I expected as much.” Susannah released a heartfelt sigh as she thought back to the turmoil and hardship of the past year. “Anyway, it was not long after that when I first came in contact with Max. He appeared on the scene, with an offer to bring me and my boys to the Silver Spur and consult, with the possibility of a permanent position in one of several of the restaurants he owns in Helena. I had no idea he knew about my desire to publish my own series of cookbooks, though.”

  “When was this?” Trace questioned.

  “A couple of months ago. I told him I couldn’t come until the boys finished the school year. He was most gracious about the delay, even later when Biscuits unexpectedly quit as head chef in the camp kitchen.” Susannah tilted her head back and searched his face. “You’re sure Max didn’t mention any of this to you?”

  “No. Not a word. Not even in part I of the will.” Trace narrowed his blue eyes at her thoroughly. “But you knew we’d meet up?”

  Susannah drew a deep, steadying breath. “Actually, I was counting on just the opposite happening, since Max had told me you and your two boys were living in northern Montana, near McKendrick Logging, Inc. Knowing what a workaholic you are…” She shrugged her shoulders. “I just didn’t imagine you’d get all the way down here while I was consulting.” She could see now what a mistake in judgment that had been.

  Trace frowned. “Well, that makes two of us.” He ran a hand through his elegantly cropped wheat blond hair. “I didn’t expect to see you, either.”

  Susannah couldn’t help it; she had to ask. “Sorry you did?”

  Trace kept his eyes on hers. “I don’t know,” he said slowly, his steady gaze never wavering. “It’s brought back a lot of memories.”

  How well she knew that. “None of them pleasant?” Susannah guessed.

  “There’s nothing warm and fuzzy about having your bride of three months announce she’s leaving you because you came home late the night before.”

  “It wasn’t just one night that you didn’t arrive home until midnight, Trace. It was practically every night. When I saw that wasn’t going to change, when I realized I couldn’t live like that, I had to leave. But you—” Susannah shook her head in disbelief “—you still act surprised by the sheer inevitability of it all.” Surely by now he had figured out how much he had hurt her, by putting all his time and energy into his work and none into their marriage!

  Trace backed up to the desk and sat down on the edge of it. “It’s not as if you gave me any clues you were unhappy, before your coolly worded announcement that last night,” he retorted calmly.

  He was being deliberately dense, and she did not appreciate it. “I was not going to let you turn me into a nagging shrew,” she told him, turning and erasing the several-weeks-old menus from the chalkboard on the wall. “If you didn’t want to be home in the evenings or on weekends, even when I asked you to be home for a special romantic dinner for two…then that was just the way it was.” She put down the eraser with a thud. “I knew I couldn’t change it. I couldn’t change you.” Nor had she been sure she was right to try. “The bottom line was, you gave me no choice, Trace. I had to leave.”

  “You did have a choice, Susannah. You could have tried to stay and work out our problems. As for your unhappiness,” he continued, a muscle working in his jaw, “I know I was gone a lot, but I was working hard to build a home for us.”

  Susannah had not let him get away with that notion then, and she was not going to let him get away with it now, no matter how reassuring it was to him, in retrospect. “Correction,” she retorted, vaguely aware that her voice was rising. “You were working hard to build a career for you.”

  Trace rolled lithely to his feet. “For both of us,” he stressed.

  “Whatever.” Susannah backed up until her back touched the blackboard. “The bottom line is that we’re together less than half an hour and we’re already bickering about our different wants and needs.”

  Trace was silent.

  “And though that may be the reality of the situation, I doubt that’s what Max had in mind,” Susannah continued, aware she felt like crying again, for a completely different reason.

  “No doubt Max believed we would have a fairy-tale ending this time around.” Trace scowled as he jerked loose the knot in his tie.

  “Yes, well,” Susannah said, feeling depressed. “We know better now, don’t we?” she continued with a weariness that came straight from her soul.

  Trace unbuttoned the top of his heavily starched white shirt, exposing the strong suntanned column of his throat. He studied her in silence, his gaze moving over her hair, face, lips, before returning once again to probe her eyes. “So, are you willing to help me gain my inheritance?” he asked point-blank, following his question with a searing look.

  “You want what he’s offered, don’t you?” Susannah asked, knowing he did. His ambition to be successful in the business world was clearly as allconsuming as ever.

  Trace shrugged, not too shy to admit his desire as he took off his suit coat and tossed it on the desk. “As Max pointed out on his videotape, if I combine our two holdings, I’ll have the largest lumber company in the West. Hell, yes, I want it,” he confirmed adamantly, rolling up his sleeves.

  His glance lowered to hers. “Do you?”

  I didn’t ask for this, Susannah thought, but as long as Fate tossed the opportunity my way…. Telling herself she needed to be driven by practicality and not emotion, she replied, “I need a new home. I need to get myself and
the boys out of California and away from any more earthquakes, fires, floods, riots, and whatever else L.A. might decide to throw our way before the decade ends. And yes, I want that cookbook deal. Because if I get that, I can start working out of my home, and I’ll have more time to spend with my sons.”

  Trace edged closer, a satisfied smile on his handsome face. “So, we’re in agreement then?” he said softly.

  “It would appear so, yes.”

  “Forty-eight hours.”

  Susannah thought of her boys and focused firmly on the future. “I think we can handle it, if we set our hearts and minds to it.” She and her boys stood to benefit so much, as did Trace and his children. And after all, it was only forty-eight hours they were talking about here, she reassured herself sagely. Not a lifetime. Enough time to forgive each other, as Max wanted, and then move on, as she and Trace wanted…

  Trace quirked an eyebrow. “I don’t know about hearts, but I’ve a mind to make it work,” he told her firmly, his dedication to doing just that steadfast. “The only question is, what are we going to tell our kids?”

  Chapter Two

  “The truth,” Susannah said.

  Trace’s eyes lasered on hers, held. “That we’re honoring Max’s last wishes—”

  She nodded, completing his sentence the way she had when they were married. “As a way of honoring his memory, nothing more.”

  “So we’ll share quarters and stick to each other like glue for the next forty-eight hours, just like Max wanted,” Trace confirmed.

  “We marry, then inherit, and divorce as soon as the terms of the will and propriety permit.” Deciding they were standing much too close, Susannah stepped past Trace and moved toward the door of the tiny office.

  Following her lead, Trace picked up his suit coat and slung it over his shoulder. He looked very sexy with his tie loosened, shirt collar undone, the beginnings of a five-o’clock shadow lining his handsome face. “You think they’ll buy it?” he asked as he fell into step beside her, as naturally as if they had never been apart.