Spur-Of-The-Moment Marriage

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Spur-Of-The-Moment Marriage Page 6

by Cathy Gillen Thacker


  Gillian watched him slide in beside her and fit the key into the ignition. “You actually don’t seem to be minding all that much,” she marveled.

  “Don’t kid yourself,” Cisco retorted grimly as the engine sprang to life with an enviable purr. “I have plenty of resentment, too, half of which is directed at myself,” he said as he turned to see as he backed out of the parking space in front of the log-cabin-style building.

  “Why?” Gillian asked softly as he thrust the sleek car into gear. He was so sure of himself, so sure he could handle everything!

  Cisco grimaced and kept his eyes on the road. “For starters, I probably should have seen this coming.”

  “Because you’re his attorney, you mean?” she asked.

  “That’s part of it. I’ve worked with Max long enough to know exactly how his mind works—although he can still surprise me from time to time, as he clearly demonstrated tonight. The other part is that Max has treated me like one of the McKendrick family for a long time now.” Cisco braked at the approaching intersection, and the beams of the sports car illuminated the lonely two-lane highway between the ranch and town. “Whatever he did for Trace, Patience and Cody, he also did for me.” Seeing the coast was clear, Cisco moved his hands confidently on the steering wheel and turned his car onto the smoothly paved road. “I thought I’d be excluded in this particular matchmaking activity because I was instrumental in helping him pull off the other three forty-eight-hour engagements and various ‘surprises.’ Cisco frowned, and continued in an introspective voice, rife with exasperation, “I guess I was wrong.”

  Gillian studied him, and sighed. Though he irritated the heck out of her with his nosiness, Gillian had only to hear the rest of the family talk about Max’s young protégé and attorney to know they loved him deeply and considered him to be “family,” too. And family was something Gillian did not take for granted. Not since she’d lost her own.

  Working hard to express her yearning for close enduring ties, she observed wistfully, “Max loves you like a son, doesn’t he?”

  Cisco shrugged and kept both hands on the wheel, his emotions held carefully in check. “Yes.” Cisco smiled sheepishly after a moment. He shot her an intrigued glance as he adjusted the dials to allow slightly warmer air into the car. “What about you? What is your family going to think about the two of us getting married like this, even if it is only for a couple days?”

  Gillian’s hand tightened on her purse. She had never wanted to disappoint her parents, and she still didn’t. “Thankfully, they’ll never have to know about this lunacy—they died in a fire when I was nineteen.”

  A sorrow-filled silence filled the interior of the car. “I’m sorry.” Cisco reached over and lightly squeezed one of the hands in her lap. “You must miss them very much,” he said gently.

  “Yes, I do,” Gillian admitted quietly as unwanted tears sprang to her eyes. She knew the pain she felt over the loss was never going to go away, no matter how many years passed.

  A brief silence ensued as they moved from a two-lane highway to a four. Gillian leaned back in her seat and concentrated on the passing scenery. As they got closer to town, the dense woods around the logging camp gradually gave way to gently rolling hills and an occasional country home or small, well-tended ranch.

  “Susannah mentioned she met you in a Los Angeles women’s shelter ten years ago,” Cisco said as they followed the signs toward Fort Benton.

  Here it comes again, Gillian thought resentfully. First some sweet talk, and then the gentle but lawyerly third degree. “And you want to know how and why I happened to end up in a shelter, I suppose?” she surmised with more tartness in her voice than she would have liked. She turned to face him once again.

  Cisco sighed and shrugged his broad shoulders noncomittally. “It crossed my mind.”

  Gillian sensed he wasn’t going to ease up on her until she told him at least part of her past. Hence, she might as well get it over with. She folded her arms in front of her and began to talk in a clipped, reluctant tone. “After my parents died, it wasn’t a good time for me. Unable to concentrate enough to do my work, I’d dropped out of college. I was scared, drifting, and at that point I had no idea what I wanted to do with my life.” She shut her eyes at the memory of that miserable time. “I admit I didn’t manage my money very well. And what little money I had went very fast”

  Deliberately she did not recount details of the rest of that year, but slipped on ahead to the time she became involved with Susannah McKendrick.

  “I was dead broke when I entered the shelter, and met Susannah, who was one of the volunteers.” Gratitude filled her heart as she recalled the kindness that had been shown her. “Susannah told me they were looking for a prep cook in the restaurant she was working in at the time, and she offered to give me a recommendation and help me get hired. From that point on, I worked almost exclusively for and with her.”

  “That sounds like Susannah,” Cisco replied. “Generous and nurturing to a fault.”

  Gillian nodded, her affection for her old friend a balm to her lacerated soul. “She’s been a very good friend to me.”

  “As all the McKendricks have been to me,” Cisco replied with a similar amount of affection in his voice as they reached the very edge of town.

  Eleven o’clock on a Saturday night, the only establishments open were a few gas stations, a twenty-fourhour supermarket and several restaurants. “Why all the questions?” Gillian asked as they passed the square that held the imposing limestone courthouse.

  Cisco shrugged as he stopped at a traffic light. “The way I figure it, as long as we’re married—even if it is only for a little while, we ought to know a lot more about each other.”

  Gillian arched her auburn brow at him as they waited for the light to turn green. “I see,” she said slowly, anxious to turn the tables on him, too. After all, he wasn’t the only one who could ask questions. “Would this include something about your family, too?”

  Cisco immediately looked annoyed. “You’ve met my family—the McKendricks,” Cisco reminded her implacably as the light changed and he drove on.

  “I meant before that,” Gillian insisted as they drove by Pearl’s Diner, a homey-looking restaurant with a softly lit interior, large glass windows looking out onto the streets and a handsome Western exterior.

  “I know what you meant,” Cisco replied, and to her frustration offered nothing further about his roots.

  “Wait a minute.” Cisco hit the brakes as they cruised around the corner, unable to suppress his surprise. “Isn’t that Pearl’s pickup truck?” He pointed to the sporty pink truck with white leather interior, that sported an extrafancy Pearl’s logo on the side.

  “Yes,” Gillian murmured, still feeling a little piqued he hadn’t confided in her, since she’d confided in him. “Why?” she asked Cisco, thinking he could be a most maddening man!

  “I thought she’d be with Max tonight,” he murmured, obviously perplexed, “especially since the wedding reception is expected to go on ‘til long after midnight.”

  Gillian made a soft dissenting sound. Sometimes men could be so dense! And that went triple for the men from the Silver Spur Ranch!

  “I don’t know about that,” she replied, putting in her two cents and slanting Cisco a wry look as he guided his car into a parking place at the rear of the establishment. “Pearl was still pretty ticked off at Max when we left the wedding reception,” Gillian allowed.

  “Yeah, I know, but I figured Max would’ve been able to talk his way out of that by now.” Cisco shook his head, perplexed, and continued in a low, subdued tone. “The two of them have been together for as long as I can remember. Although in the past she’s been a lot quicker to forgive him.” A determined look on his handsome face, Cisco cut the motor and the lights. “I know we’re still in our wedding clothes but I want to stop in and make sure everything’s okay.”

  Gillian shrugged and let him know with a glance that whatever he wanted in that reg
ard was fine with her. After all, she was in no hurry to go to his apartment. “It’s not like I have anything else to change into,” she said dryly.

  “True.”

  Plus, it was June, and brides were literally everywhere. Their unusual attire would probably be overlooked, and if not, so what? “So, you’re close to Pearl, too,” she noted.

  Cisco stepped out of the car and circled around to help Gillian with her door. “Let’s just say she was a mom and a friend and a big sister all rolled into one, when I needed her,” he confided as he flattened a hand over Gillian’s spine and escorted her around to the entrance. “I owe her a lot. Besides, if she is in the diner, maybe Max’ll be there, too.” Cisco grinned mischieviously. “And we can both give him a piece of our mind for the way he had all your belongings packed up and spirited away.”

  “Sounds good to me,” Gillian said as she squared her slender shoulders resolutely. “I want that stuff back!”

  PEARL WAS BEHIND the long wooden bar that served those who came in intending to eat alone. She had changed out of the clothes she’d worn to the wedding, into her pink waitress uniform, white apron and white Western boots. Her bright red hair was, as usual, pinned into a high French twist, but this time there were tendrils escaping to softly frame her face and the back of her neck. And that was unusual, Cisco thought. Pearl always coated her hair with enough hairspray to hold it in place in even the stiffest Montana wind.

  “Hey, Pearl, thought you’d still be at the reception,” Cisco began casually, hoping he could work some of the matchmaking magic his mentor now seemed to possess in spades.

  “You two ducked out early, too,” Pearl remarked, ushering the two of them to a cozy wooden booth by the window. She gave Cisco a measuring look. “And I didn’t see either of you eat any dinner.”

  Cisco grinned at Pearl’s unabashed attempt to mother him and Gillian, but made no move to resist it. “That’s ‘cause we didn’t,” he answered cheerfully.

  “Then the two of you sit right down and I’ll get you whatever you want, on the house.” Her manner brisk and businesslike, Pearl handed them both menus and whipped out her order pad as they slid across the padded leather seats. “Tonight’s special is countryfried steak, drowning in cream gravy, with whipped potatoes and collard greens.”

  “The special sounds great,” Gillian said.

  “To me, too,” Cisco added.

  With her slender shoulders stiff with tension, undoubtedly lingering from her fight with Max at the reception, Pearl scrawled down their order, then looked up again. Her pretend-there’s-nothing-wrong expression spoke volumes. “Can I get you two a couple of green salads to go with that?”

  “Sure,” Cisco said, intentionally ignoring the unmistakable tinge of sadness in Pearl’s eyes. “I’ll have ranch dressing on mine.”

  “Sounds great,” Gillian agreed. She exchanged concerned looks with Cisco, before turning back to Pearl. “I’ll have the ranch, too.”

  “I’ll bring it right out.” Pearl went back into the kitchen. Short minutes later, she came out of the swinging double doors, two crisp green salads in hand. She set them in front of Gillian and Cisco, along with a basket of hot rolls and butter. Knowing it was now or never, Cisco reached out and caught Pearl’s hand before she could get away. “Sit with us a minute, Pearl,” he urged, knowing the high-backed booth would allow them a measure of privacy.

  Gillian scooted over and made room for Pearl as she added softly, “We can see you’re upset.”

  “As anyone would be, after what Max put you through,” Cisco added.

  “I’m not complaining.” Pearl took a seat at the end of the booth, beside Gillian. “What Max did brought me to my senses,” she confided with weary sadness. “It made me face some things I should’ve confronted a mighty long time ago.”

  “Like what?” Cisco asked, as he forked up some greens.

  Pearl sighed. “Like the fact that maybe I am the marrying kind after all.” Pearl took a lace-edged hankie out of her bodice and dabbed at the fresh tears sparkling in her eyes. She swallowed hard and it was a moment before she could go on. “I don’t know. Maybe it was something about seeing Trace and Susannah, Patience and Josh, and Cody and Callie together again, but as I watched them all pledge their undying love for each other and speak their vows, I realized I don’t want to spend the rest of my life as a single woman.”

  “How long have you and Max known each other?” Gillian asked, taking a sip of her water.

  “We’ve been close for twenty-five years now,” Pearl admitted, twisting her capable hands together. “Enough to have a silver wedding anniversary. Instead, all I have to show for it is this diner, of which I admit I’ve made a grand success, and more expensive presents than I can shake a stick at!”

  “You still love Max, then?” Gillian persisted, while Cisco listened intently.

  “It doesn’t matter what I feel.” Pearl stood abruptly. She crumpled her hankie and tucked it back into the bodice of her uniform, then smoothed the clinging fabric over her hips.

  “Now, Pearl, I know Max loves you with all his heart and soul,” Cisco protested, before his friend could run away.

  “Oh, really.” Pearl slapped both hands on hips that were as slender as a teenage girl’s. “Then why—if he believes in marriage so much for his kin, and even you and Gillian, Cisco—didn’t he lasso the two of us together for forty-eight hours and then end that with a marriage proposal and a wedding ring?” she demanded belligerently.

  Cisco spread his hands wide. “I don’t know, Pearl. Maybe he didn’t want to mess things up by changing them. Maybe he thought you liked things the way they were, too.”

  Pearl leaned forward abruptly and slammed the table with her fist. “Darn it all, Cisco. Stop defending that bounder and just admit he isn’t committed to me.”

  “Now, Pearl—” Cisco began cautiously. He had the sinking feeling, despite his best intentions, that he’d just made things worse.

  “Don’t you ‘Now Pearl’ me, Cisco Kidd!” Pearl fumed. “You tell that old rapscallion this! You tell him I never want to see him again, and to put that in his pipe and smoke it!” Pearl stomped off. The doors to the kitchen swung shut behind her.

  Gillian and Cisco finished their salads in silence as Cisco tried vainly to figure out how to repair the situation. And he was still thinking on it when another waitress cleared their salad plates and brought out two plates of fragrant, steaming food and a complimentary basket of warm and flaky buttermilk biscuits.

  “This is really upsetting you, isn’t it?” Gillian asked as she spread butter and homemade peach jelly on her biscuit.

  “I’ve never known them to be anything but together. To this point, I’ve never really even seen them fight,” Cisco admitted as he cut into his steak.

  “Maybe they’ll make up pretty quickly.”

  Cisco shook his head. He didn’t have any illusions on that score. Gillian shouldn’t, either. “I have a feeling that is not going to happen unless Max proposes.”

  Gillian brought a forkful of fluffy mashed potatoes to her lips. “You don’t think he will?”

  Cisco shrugged. Aware his appetite had faded, he continued to eat nonetheless. “Up to this point, Pearl and Max had agreed they weren’t the marrying kind.”

  “Only now she’s changed her mind,” Gillian surmised, as she swiftly cleaned her plate, finished off her biscuit and buttered and jellied another.

  “Right.” Cisco nodded. “And as far as I know, Max hasn’t.”

  Another silence fell as the waitress returned and left them with a pitcher of cream and a carafe of hot coffee. “I guess I could play matchmaker,” Cisco said eventually, as he poured the rich brew for both himself and Gillian—who surprised him by downing yet a third biscuit.

  “But you don’t really want to, do you?” Gillian asked, stirring generous amounts of both cream and sugar into her coffee.

  “I’ve always accepted advice from Max—not the other way around—at least when
it comes to personal matters. Legal matters are different, since I’m his attorney now. Though even on that score, I’ve learned a lot from Max, too.”

  Gillian studied Cisco. “You don’t think he’d listen to you if you tried to intervene in this situation with him and Pearl?” Gillian asked.

  Cisco sighed. “I’m not sure he’d listen to anyone on this. And why should he? It’s his love life.”

  “IT’S OUR LOVE LIFE, too,” Gillian said after they’d paid the bill and headed back outside. She was glad to have something—and someone—else to focus on beside her own situation with Cisco. “That hasn’t stopped Max from interfering,” she added as Cisco helped her into the car.

  “That’s different.” Cisco climbed in beside her.

  “How so?” Gillian queried as he started the car and drove several streets south.

  Cisco parked in front of a building that looked very much like a stable from the Old West. He cut the motor and briefly rested his broad shoulders against the back of his seat. An affectionate note crept into his low, commiserating tone. “Max is just trying to set his affairs in order and make sure his property goes to the people he wants to have it, while he’s still around to see to it that things are done right”

  Gillian blinked as the next thought hit. “He’s not sick or anything, is he?” Gillian asked worriedly as Cisco came around to hold her door for her.

  “Heck no,” Cisco replied, one warm hand closing protectively on her waist as he helped her out. “Max is as healthy as a horse. But he is also—in his own words—’as old as the hills now.’ Which could be the real reason why he doesn’t want to marry Pearl,” Cisco continued, bringing her closer yet. “Max has a good twenty years on Pearl, I’d guess.” Cisco paused to locate the door key. “He’s probably worried he’d become ill at some point and she’ll have to spend the rest of her life nursing him.”

 

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