“Well, yeah, they did that,” Nate affirmed cheerfully, “but that’s not why your picture’s in the paper.”
Cisco typed in the newspaper’s address and waited impatiently for the information to appear on-screen.
“You’re in there because you and Gillian got married last night.” Nate paused. “The article’s on the front page of the Lifestyle section.”
The color photo booted up and it was all Cisco could do not to groan as he saw his own image on the screen. “I see it.”
“Okay, just remember I told you first!” Nate said.
“I will. Thanks, Nate.”
Gillian emerged from the bedroom, towel drying her hair. She looked concerned. “What’s up?”
“This.” Cisco pointed to his computer screen.
Gillian leaned over his shoulder and looked at a news photo of a bride and groom exchanging wedding rings. “Wedding Fever Sweeps The Nation.” Gillian read the headline out loud. “‘From the traditional wedding to the—’ oh my God!” She clutched his shoulders tightly as the enormity of what had happened sunk in. “Is that us?”
“In living color,” Cisco replied dryly.
“And they’ve identified us both by name!” Gillian began to pace.
“That is customary.”
She spun around and stomped back to the computer. The color draining from her face, she stared intently at the posted news article, reading aloud the caption beneath the photo. “‘Caught up in the excitement of a triple wedding, logging camp chef Gillian Taylor marries Fort Benton attorney Cisco Kidd in a spur-of-the-moment marriage ceremony on the Silver Spur Ranch in Montana….” She shook her head and paled all the more. “Is this on the stands now?”
“It’s on the Internet now,” he explained, using his index finger to point out the time and date of the posting. “It’s been there since 1:28 this morning, or roughly six hours now. It’ll be on the newsstands Monday morning.”
“Well, that’s impossible!” She looked at him, wild-eyed, distressed. “Cisco, you’ve got to do something to stop it!”
“I can’t.”
“Why not?” Gillian paced away from him. “You’re a lawyer! We never gave permission for our photos to be used.”
Cisco sat back in his chair. “Under current law, we don’t have to,” he said calmly. “Consent is only required for commercial use of a photo. News photos, on the other hand, require no consent.”
Gillian paled as she trod nearer in a drift of flowery perfume. She splayed a hand across her chest. “We’re news?”
Cisco nodded grimly. Though he sensed they felt the way they did for very different reasons, this wasn’t what he wanted, either. “We became news when we married the way we did.”
Gillian dragged a chair over and sank into it, so they were sitting face-to-face. “Can’t we ask them to pull the photo?” Gillian asked in desperation.
Cisco regarded Gillian patiently. He wasn’t above using this situation to get more of the information he needed from her, particularly when she wouldn’t allow him to help her any other way. “For what reason?”
Gillian waved her arms at him in exasperation, punctuating each and every word she spoke. “Because I don’t want to be famous.”
The question was why didn’t she want to be famous. What else was she running from? What had Pete Lloyd, from Kansas, started to recall last night that had thrown her into a panic?
Cisco called on his experience as an attorney to reassure her gently. “Fame like this fades more quickly than you can imagine.”
Gillian’s soft lips tightened into a rebellious line. “So, in other words you’re telling me we’re stuck with that article, and that Monday morning it’s going to be on every newsstand in America?”
Cisco nodded grimly, taking in the decidedly militant edge to her posture. “Looks like, yes.”
GILLIAN COULDN’T BELIEVE it. Ten years on the run. Ten years of holding everyone, save Susannah McKendrick and her boys, at arm’s length. The moment she put her fear of being discovered aside and decided to do something for herself, like marry Cisco to gain a new legal name, a permanent home on the ranch and a business, what should happen but her past comes back to haunt her with a vengeance! First in the form of former KSU professor Pete Lloyd at last night’s wedding, thinking she looked somehow familiar to him, and now this!
“You’re upset?” Cisco guessed as he continued to study her with concern etching his features.
The time to be coy had passed. “Hell, yes, I’m upset, Cisco. Damned upset. Suppose other papers pick this up?” she asked emotionally.
“I’ll be honest with you. Chances of killing such a lively human-interest story are almost nil, particularly when the story has already been posted on-line.”
Almost, but not absolutely. “But we could try, couldn’t we?”
“Yes, but there’s no guarantee our efforts would be successful. And we can’t do anything about the six hours the story has already been on-line.”
Beggars couldn’t be choosers, Gillian thought. At this point, she’d take what she could get. “What about the photo of us?” she asked anxiously. “Can we do anything about that?”
Cisco frowned. “Again, we can’t stop it because it’s news, but we could try and purchase the copyright, and hence control the distribution of the said photo from now on. I’m warning you, though. Doing something like this’ll be an expensive proposition.”
Gillian sighed her relief. “I don’t care. I’ll pay you back every cent, I swear. I just want my—I mean our—photo off the Internet.”
Cisco narrowed his eyes at her appraisingly. “All right,” Cisco said finally. “I’ll see what I can do.”
“IT’S DONE,” Cisco said a tense hour and a half later. “The copyright on the photo is ours. Any mention of our wedding is being stricken from the article, but USA Daily is going to continue with the modified article on the triple wedding at the Silver Spur.”
“So there’ll be no mention of our names or photo of us in the USA Daily newspaper that hits the stands tomorrow morning?” Gillian asked.
“Correct.”
“Oh, thank heavens.”
Cisco continued to study her, looking as though he wanted to ask her so much, but—his expression turning protective—didn’t. “Are you okay?” was all he said.
Gillian nodded. Now that their names and photos were off the Internet, she felt a lot better.
Deciding she needed a time-out rather than risk any further questions, however, Gillian sent him a bracing smile. “I think we both need something to eat. If it’s all right with you, I’d like to take our first time-out and walk down to the twenty-four-hour supermarket and get some food for breakfast”
“You don’t have to cook,” Cisco pointed out as Gillian braided her hair into a loose plait over one shoulder, and fastened it with a coated elastic band. “We could eat at Pearl’s.”
“It’s no problem.” Gillian waved off his concern. “I want to do it. Besides, cooking relaxes me.” And right now, Gillian thought, as she picked up her purse and headed toward the shiny black revolver on the table, she needed to relax.
Cisco frowned as she picked the gun up and carefully replaced it in her purse.
Ignoring his faint look of disapproval, Gillian closed her purse and inquired cheerfully, “Any preferences for breakfast?”
Cisco shook his head and continued watching her as though he knew something was up and it was just a matter of time until he found out precisely what that was. “Whatever you want is fine with me,” he said.
CISCO WAITED until Gillian had left, then sat down behind the desk and, putting off his shower for a few more minutes, telephoned the head of the detective agency Max owned on the West Coast. “Lynda, Cisco Kidd. Sorry I woke you.”
“What’s up?” she asked around a yawn while a male voice grumbled sleepily in the background. “It must be important for you to be calling me at this hour.”
“Yeah, it is,” Cisco admitted, leani
ng back in his leather swivel chair. “I’ve got someone I need you to check out for me. Her name is Gillian Taylor. She used to work as a chef in L.A., mostly for Trace’s wife, Susannah Hart.”
“What’s this Ms. Gillian Taylor done to warrant your interest?” Lynda asked curiously.
“She agreed to be my wife.” He went on to give a skeletal synopsis of the events of the past twelveplus hours. And I am now more certain than ever she needs help the way I once did “My gut feeling is that she’s running from someone or something, ‘cause she’s damn near hysterical about her picture appearing in the Monday edition of the USA Daily newspaper.” Briefly, Cisco explained what lengths he’d gone to to have the picture and article pulled, then concluded, “She’s also carrying a gun on a regular basis.”
“Uh-oh.”
“Uh-oh’s right. She also claims to have once been a student at UCLA, but they have no record of her.”
Cisco heard Lynda scrambling for a paper and a pen. “Did you ask her why not?” Lynda asked.
“She-claims they’ve lost her records.”
“You don’t buy it?”
Cisco frowned. “I don’t know. I have a feeling she’s only told me a very small portion of what she’s running from, and I know from her reaction this morning and last night that she still feels she could be in rather immediate danger. Since she won’t confide in me further, at least at this point, I’m going to have to look into the reasons for her fear myself.” It was the only way he could help and protect her.
“I understand where you’re coming from,” Lynda sympathized.
Cisco sighed inwardly. The question was would Gillian, if she ever found out what he’d done in having her investigated? “You might also look to see if there were any police complaints filed by her against someone named Phillip for breaking and entering or stalking.”
“Any idea where or when these incidents might have taken place?”
Cisco hazarded a guess. “Try looking in the Midwest, probably Kansas, ten years or so ago.”
“I presume there’s a rush on this?”
“You bet your bottom dollar there is,” Cisco said. Before he even knew what they were facing, his gut told him danger could be upon them. And that could be deadly, for both of them.
“I TOLD YOU THEY’D BE UP,” Cody said after Gillian had opened the door to Max’s nephew and his new bride, Callie.
“We are, but Cisco is in the shower.” Gillian peered at them. She was still breathless from her under-thirty minute run to the Fort Benton grocery. Thankfully, Cisco lived in town, as opposed to out on the ranch, and the twenty-four-hour grocery was just down the street, otherwise it would’ve been impossible. “Aren’t you two supposed to be on your honeymoon?” she asked the cowboy and his beautiful, blond bride.
Cody and Callie McKendrick grinned in unison and wrapped their arms around each other. “We delayed it for a few days on account of we promised Uncle Max we’d help get you and Cisco together,” Callie explained, her green eyes sparkling warmly.
Cody took off his hat and raked a hand through his shoulder-length wheat blond hair, which was tied back with a rawhide strip. “We owe Max and Cisco a lot, since they both did so much to bring Callie and me back together,” Cody said. “Normally, of course, I don’t think interfering is a good thing, but in this case, ‘cause Cisco’s been so much like a brother to me, I’d be willing to make an exception. And besides—” Cody paused to kiss the top of Callie’s head “—if anyone around here deserves to be happy, Cisco does.”
Gillian was beginning to agree with that “How do you know I make him happy?” Gillian asked curiously.
Cody and Callie exchanged speculative looks, rife with romance. “All anyone had to do was look at the sparks flying between you last night to know there’s something special there,” Callie said.
“Besides,” Cody added as he tightened his arm around his wife’s waist, “Cisco wouldn’t have said ‘I do,’ even on the spur of the moment, unless he was really interested in you.”
Gillian flushed, wondering if that was true.
Callie turned to Cody and toyed with the buttons on his shirt. As usual, she was dressed in jeans, vest and shirt and her red cowgirl boots. “Now that we know someone is here, don’t you think we should bring in the things we have for Gillian and Cisco?” Callie asked.
“Right,” Cody said.
Looking reluctant to be apart from his new bride even for just a second, Cody nevertheless took off down the stairs. “What do you have for us?” Gillian asked Callie curiously, knowing that Max could be very generous indeed.
“Beats me,” Callie said. She noticed on the kitchen counter the groceries that Gillian had yet to put away. “Max was typically enigmatic.”
Cody returned carrying a stack of gaily wrapped presents and a single envelope, just as a fully dressed, shaven and showered Cisco Kidd emerged from the bathroom. He was wearing a white Western shirt, open at the throat, soft faded jeans and boots. He looked handsome and at ease in the casual rancher’s clothing. “What’s going on?” Cisco asked cheerfully, joining the group.
Cody set the presents in front of Gillian, and handed Cisco the single envelope. “Presents for the two of you, from Max.”
Callie looked from Gillian to Cisco. She took the time to study them intently. “Everything going okay for the two of you so far?” She hesitated for a moment. “I mean, you’re getting along and everything, aren’t you?” Callie continued, concerned.
You mean beside the fact we threw caution to the wind and recklessly made love twice during the night? Gillian thought wryly. She still wasn’t sure what had come over her, if it was the romance of the evening, or wedding fever, or just the fact she’d been alone and on the run for so long now. She only knew that when Cisco held her, she felt safe. And when he kissed her, and made love to her with such fiery passion, she felt whole again, as though she had a future not just here on the ranch, but with him.
And then there was the potentially disastrous situation with their photo on the Internet He had handled that just right, putting some pressure on her of course to level with him, but not pushing her too hard just the same.
She didn’t know how he did it, exactly. She just knew whenever he was by her side she felt everything really would be all right. Maybe not today exactly, but someday. And that, Gillian admitted, was a feeling she did not want to relinquish, even though, because the USA Daily news photo had been posted on the Internet she might soon have to do so.
“Everything’s fine,” Gillian finally answered as they exchanged a glance, standing united on that front.
What had happened between the two of them—the fact they’d decided on the spur of the moment to embark on a wild, reckless weekend love affair—was nobody’s business but their own, Gillian thought.
Cody and Callie exchanged looks rife with both disbelief and humor. “Uh-huh. Well, if you need us, you know how to find us,” Cody drawled.
“See you,” Callie echoed with a grin and wave.
Their eyes dancing with hopelessly romantic lights, the newlyweds were off.
Cisco shut the door after them and inclined his head at the ribbon-wrapped boxes. “Aren’t you going to open them?” he asked Gillian.
Gillian had to admit she was curious. “It’s probably too much to hope he’s giving back the things of mine he put in storage, isn’t it?”
Cisco shrugged as she tugged at a ribbon. “With Max, you never know.”
The first box contained a very beautiful, very sexy floor-length negligee in emerald green lace. Gillian blushed at the thought Max had expected—correctly, it turned out—for them to end up making love in no time flat. Was the chemistry between she and Cisco really that obvious? And if so, what did it mean? Deciding not to think about that for the moment, she put the negligee aside.
“Going to model it for me now?” Cisco teased.
“You wish,” Gillian replied as she simultaneously flushed with pleasure and ignored the hint of rene
wed sexual interest in Cisco’s eyes. Besides, she much prefered wearing just the soft flannel top to Cisco’s cowboy pajamas, she told herself defiantly. No way was she wearing that negligee.
“Want me to help you open the rest?” Cisco teased, edging nearer. The hint of sandalwood and sage clung to his freshly shaven jaw.
“No, thanks,” Gillian replied. She still wanted first glimpse. Because if it was too much, this time it was not coming all the way out of the box!
But to her relief, Max’s second gift to her was much more practical. “What is that? A denim skirt?” Cisco asked.
“A split skirt, the kind specifically made for sitting astride a horse. And a tailored blue denim blouse to go with it.” Reassured, and happy—for now she had something to wear today aside from Cisco’s clothing or her wedding dress—Gillian tackled the rest of the boxes in short order. Finding a flat-brimmed hat to protect her from the sun, a pair of pine green Western boots, more jeans and a pretty plaid shirt and a whole boxful of satin undergarments and cotton socks, suitable for wearing with her new boots. There was also a handwritten note addressed to Gillian.
“Just a few things to tide you over ‘til you reach the honeymoon cottage,” Max had written, “where even more treasures…of all kinds…await.”
Feeling both perplexed and wary, Gillian handed the note over for Cisco to see. “What do you suppose this means?” she asked curiously.
Cisco shrugged, his silver-gray eyes still holding hers. “I don’t know. We’ll have to go out there and find out” He cut a glance at the groceries still out.
“When?” Gillian asked, getting up and heading for the kitchen, just as there was another knock at the door.
“As soon as possible,” Cisco replied as he moved to answer the door while she went on into the kitchen.
There, outside the door, was Pearl, a picnic basket slung over her arm.
“What are you doing out so early?” Cisco asked. Usually Pearl let her staff handle the breakfast rush, while she ruled the diner during the lunch and dinner hours.
Spur-Of-The-Moment Marriage Page 10