Spur-Of-The-Moment Marriage

by Cathy Gillen Thacker

  “SO HOW’S SHE DOING?” Patience asked.

  “Not good.” With every second that passed, Gillian seemed to get further away from him in an emotional sense. It was as if she had resurrected all the barriers that had been between them from the get-go and then added a fire wall of resistance on top of that.

  He understood her not wanting to involve him. He just couldn’t stomach her pretending that he wasn’t in this as hip deep as she was, when they both knew, because of his growing feelings for her, that was exactly the case!

  “Does she know Max had guards stationed around the cottage last night?”

  Cisco’s glance cut to the framed photo of them taken at the wedding. The one taken right after he had slipped the ring on her finger, and at Max’s playful urging, indulged in that reckless, but oh-sopleasurable first kiss with her. One only had to look at the photo to see how magical their relationship had been, even then. Which led him to wonder, how could everything have gone so right and so wrong in such a short space of time?

  “No, I didn’t tell her. I didn’t want to worry her.”

  “But you think there’s a chance—however remote—that her ex-husband is out there, too, don’t you?”

  “I’m hoping against it, but I think, until we know for sure, that we ought to stay prepared for anything,” Cisco said grimly.

  “I agree. Which is why we all sort of got together and agreed this is not the time for Personalities! magazine to do an in-depth profile on Max and the family.”

  Cisco frowned. “I didn’t know that was in the works.”

  “The managing editor just got in touch with Max yesterday—before the family meeting. Apparently, the magazine had been planning to publish a commemorative piece on him, as one of the last truly powerful men of the Old West, along with his obit. Then they saw the USA Daily article on the Internet Sunday morning just before it got pulled, and learned Max was alive, and had cooked up the unusual way of giving us our inheritances as a way of getting us back together with our true loves. At that point the magazine became—as you can guess—even more interested. And, if the situation had been different, Max and the rest of us probably would’ve done it. You know how proud Max is of his accomplishments and ours, not to mention the McKendrick family as a whole.”

  “Yeah,” Cisco agreed, knowing it must’ve disappointed Max to have to turn this down. “It would’ve been quite a coup for him.”

  “Which, in this case, is neither here nor there, because Max doesn’t want to do it unless you—and Gillian, too, of course—are included in the profile, too. He wants everyone to know of his plans to adopt you—”

  “Then just wait a day,” Gillian interrupted coolly, “and it won’t be a problem.”

  Cisco and Patience turned simultaneously. Gillian lounged in the doorway to the kitchen. It wasn’t too hard to figure out from her miserable, distracted expression that she was still struggling with her guilt at having brought her troubles with her to the ranch.

  “After all, by then, we’ll both have inherited, our marriage will be over and you can do the article without ever making mention of me.”

  Patience flushed. “I think you misunderstood. We don’t want you to leave. For heaven’s sake, everyone in the family adores you!”

  “Everyone’s been very kind, but that’s not really the point, is it? My marriage to Cisco was a sham from the get-go, and while it’s been…interesting, it’s not the real thing.”

  Cisco wanted more than anything to comfort Gillian, even as he saw—as part of the punishment she was determined to inflict upon herself—that she was not going to allow it.

  “You can’t mean that,” Patience declared. “I mean, I saw the two of you together yesterday at the sheriff’s office. I saw how you were leaning on him.”

  “Right. I needed a lawyer and a friend and Cisco was both. But now that’s over, too. And since it is, we need to move on.”

  Cisco looked at Patience. “Thanks for stopping by, but if you don’t mind, Gillian and I need some time alone.”

  “No problem. I’ll show myself out.” Which she did in silence.

  “It’s not about that, is it?” Cisco asked Gillian.

  Color came flooding back into her cheeks as Gillian’s breath hitched in her throat. Though she hazarded a glance in his general direction, she couldn’t quite meet his eyes. “I’m not saying we’re not good together in bed. We are,” she admitted hoarsely. “And that’s the problem. There’s been too much of that the last two days.”

  Conceding to her obvious wishes, Cisco physically kept his distance, for the moment anyway. He lounged against the counter, fastening a hand on either side of him. “I admit everything happened too fast,” he said carefully, still keeping his gaze trained on her face.

  But as for the rest, he had never before been wanted—the way Gillian had seemed to want him— or needed…. When he was with Gillian, he’d gone from being on the fringes, on the outside looking in, to being part of the McKendricks.

  Gillian’s glance cut to the sterling silver picture frame on the table. She studied the photo of them, too. The depth of her longing to return to that much safer, simpler time in their two-day relationship was apparent as she raked both her hands through the ends of her wildly curling hair, then vaulted to her feet.

  “The point is,” Gillian said wearily at last, “it shouldn’t have happened at all because it clouded things, Cisco.”

  Cisco knew she was acting out of bravado, trying to get her inner toughness and tenacity back. And while he understood that her actions made sense—at least to her—in the short run, they didn’t make sense in the long run. Particularly considering all they could have, if they just stuck it out and stuck together.

  It was, however, predictable that she was now feeling this way because Gillian and he were alike in that regard—they were used to living a solitary life.

  Which was, Cisco thought, yet another reason why Max had stuck them together the way he had, so neither of them could run.

  “The lovemaking made us lose sight of the end goal,” Gillian continued seriously.

  “And that was…?”

  “My inheritance. Yours.” Briefly, guilt crossed her face. Then her soft green eyes became steady and earnest. “You earned your gift from Max, with years of devotion and hard work,” she explained matter-offactly, “but mine was a free ride, and one I intended to enjoy. The giddiness I felt over the prospect of my windfall, coupled with my boredom at being stuck out here alone with you, with nothing to do…but be together, carried over into my relationship with you.” She stopped and shook her head ruefully. Cisco could imagine all she was regretting: the kisses, the confessions, the breath-robbing intimacy of their time together. They were so close…and yet suddenly so far apart—farther than ever…. His stomach twisted around itself, like a clenching fist. “So what are you saying?” he demanded, wordlessly pleading for her not to say the words he sensed were coming.

  Gillian smiled at him. “We need to step back from each other and clear our heads now that the end of our forty-eight hours together is approaching.”

  “Meaning what exactly?” Cisco queried, surprised the betrayal could leave him feeling so winded and utterly dejected. Hadn’t common sense told him this was coming from the onset? He regarded her steadily, realizing with crushing disappointment that his romance was not going to turn out anywhere near as successfully as those of the other McKendrick heirs. Which was, he supposed, another reason why it had taken Max so long to take steps to formally include him in the family. Because Max knew damn well that it took more than court documents or the fact he had really grown up here under Max’s tutelage, and become a man on this ranch, or been an unofficial son to Max and “brother” to Cody, Patience and Trace to make someone a real McKendrick. Because a real McKendrick would never have let a woman like Gillian slip away from him.

  Gillian sank down in one of the upholstered chairs in the living room. “Now that my life has more or less been sorted out
and I’m free of my past, my need for protection is gone. You can turn your energies to helping someone else.”

  “Helping them.”

  “Yes.”

  “Just like that.”

  “It happened fast for us. It can happen fast with someone else. It’s for the best.”

  Cisco rubbed at the knots of tension in the back of his neck, aware he had never felt so disillusioned in his life, even as he forced himself to pin Gillian down on her intentions. “So, in other words, you’re ditching me and our marriage as soon as possible?”

  Gillian shrugged. “We have to face facts. This was a great fling for both of us, no doubt about it But, for a lot of reasons, that’s all it was or ever will be. That being the case, we need to thank Max for the opportunity to know each other, assure him that yes, indeed, there were plenty of sparks, just as he thought, but also tell him, despite his best intentions, it’s not going to work, and go our separate ways.”

  She sounded as though she had it all figured out, Cisco thought angrily. And though his first impulse was to simply say to heck with it, to heck with her, he forced himself to stay there with her. To do what Max had advised and listen to his heart, which was telling him to stay.

  Wanting something is half the battle, Max had said. Working for it, despite the often-powerful adversities you encounter, is the other half. So when you find happiness…you need to forget your fears, forget all the reasons why you think this…won’t work and reach out with both hands and grab the happiness that’s waiting for you.

  Knowing Max was right, that he couldn’t just let Gillian go without a fight, Cisco regarded Gillian and tried again to reach her to make her see that even though they had only been together a short time, they had too much, far too much, to simply give up on each other. “I know you’re upset,” he began. In fact, he imagined she was as emotionally worn out by all this as he was.

  “That’s just it. I’m not,” Gillian said, a stubborn light coming into her guileless green eyes. “This business with Phillip has made me think clearly again. It’s helped me know what I have to do.”

  “And that is?” Cisco asked.

  “Do everything I can to help secure your inheritance, and then go my separate way as soon as the forty-eight hours are up.”

  CISCO DIDN’T AGREE with her, but it didn’t matter. Gillian waited until Cisco was in the shower, then left the honeymoon cottage via the back door. Her purse slung over her shoulder, she headed briskly down the back steps. She had to do the right thing, not just for the both of them, but for all the McKendricks, even if it broke her heart—and Cisco’s, too. Heaven knew she had never meant to hurt him, she thought with a wellspring of regret. But the simple truth of the matter was that she had just by drawing him into the hell that had become her life, and now she had no choice but to do what she was doing.

  Cisco needed someone who would stay. Someone he could count on to be there for him through thick and thin. Someone who wouldn’t bring heartache and trouble into his life. He needed someone who had no scars, no troubled past.

  As much as she was loathe to admit it, it wasn’t going to be her, Gillian thought He had to know it from the outset, too; he was just too stubborn, too eager to please Max and become a real McKendrick, to admit it.

  To protect him, she’d had to be cruel, and quick. He didn’t understand now. Maybe later he would. And even if he didn’t, she told herself firmly, it didn’t matter, because once she was away from the ranch, he would be safe.

  “Hey, Gillian, everything okay?” the cowboy standing guard over the back entrance asked.

  Gillian nodded and paused. “What are you doing here?” she asked curiously, stunned to see anyone else there, too. After all, the whole point in bunking her and Cisco at the honeymoon cottage had been to give them privacy.

  The cowboy shrugged a little uneasily. “I’m standing guard.”

  So, Gillian thought, others shared her suspicions, too. They just hadn’t thought enough to let her in on that. “Cisco ask you to do that?” she inquired, as if it were no big deal even if he had.

  The cowboy nodded laconically. “And Max.” He looked at the purse she had slung over her shoulder. His eyes narrowed. “What’s up?”

  Gillian prayed that someday Cisco would forgive her for the duplicity. “I’ve got to go over to the dining hall to see about getting new glass put in the office window that was damaged by the storm,” she fibbed.

  The cowboy tipped his hat back. “You’re going by yourself?” he asked in a wary tone meant not to alarm her.

  “Yes.”

  The cowboy frowned and looked all the more uneasy about what she was proposing to do. “I thought you and Cisco were supposed to stick together,” the young cowboy reminded her.

  Gillian forced a casual smile. “Under the terms Max stipulated, Cisco and I have a time-out coming. Two, as a matter of fact. He’s going to meet me there in thirty minutes.”

  The cowboy followed Gillian to Cisco’s car and held the door for her as she climbed in. “You want me to ride over with you?”

  “No, Cisco needs you here,” Gillian lied, fitting Cisco’s key in the ignition. “Really, I’ll be fine.”

  “Well, you be careful now,” the cowboy continued. “This is a big ranch. You never know what kind of trouble you might happen upon.”

  Actually, Gillian knew the ranch was the one place Phillip wasn’t. Phillip just wanted her to think that was where he was hiding out. She’d bet anything he had hitched a ride and was already back in town. Looking for ways to hurt her and Cisco, even as the moments ticked out. Situating himself in the one place he knew Cisco and perhaps even she would eventually show up.

  CISCO DID A CURSORY SWEEP of the first floor, then scowled at the kitchen counter, noting his keys were not there, either. “Damn it all to hell, I cannot believe she did this to me!” he muttered as he stormed out the kitchen door. “Where’s Gillian? Where’s my car?” Cisco demanded to the cowboy standing guard.

  While Cisco’s blood boiled, the cowboy dutifully repeated what Gillian had told him.

  Cisco swore again, and the cowboy began to look edgy. He narrowed his eyes at Cisco. “Does this mean you didn’t want her to go over to the dining hall alone?” he asked.

  “That is exactly what it means,” Cisco replied through set teeth, doing his best to take his latest disappointment in stride. “When did she leave?”

  The cowboy glanced at his watch, the red flush in his neck climbing into his ears. “Five minutes ago. Maybe ten.”

  That was way too much of a head start for a woman as accomplished at being on the run as Gillian. “Get on the shortwave,” he commanded the cowboy tersely, doing his best to think levelly—not easy, when the woman he loved was in danger. “Send out a blanket message to all the hands, asking where my car and Gillian Taylor were last seen.”

  The bowlegged cowboy swiftly strode over to his Silver Spur Ranch pickup truck and did as ordered. Several replies later, he had the answer Cisco had been waiting for.

  GILLIAN PARKED in front of the converted stables that housed Cisco’s Fort Benton law office and the loft apartment where he lived. She cut the motor on his luxurious sports car with a trembling hand. The blinds were shut, just as they should be, for a law office that would be closed for the next two weeks. Two weeks Max had intended for their honeymoon.

  Glad no one else was there, no innocent bystander to get hurt, Gillian took the keys from the ignition, picked up her purse and stepped out of the car. Aware the offices down the block had emptied out for the noon lunch hour, she walked up the sidewalk and stepped onto the covered porch, pausing in front of the heavy oak door with the engraved gold-plated sign that read Cisco Kidd, Attorney-At-Law.

  Wondering if she would ever see that—or him—again, yet knowing she would still do anything she had to do to protect the man she loved with all her heart and soul, Gillian unlocked the door with Cisco’s keys, and headed inside.

  Her heart slamming against her ribs, G
illian walked through the door of the luxuriously appointed reception area and into the adjacent law library that had been Max’s gift to Cisco upon his graduation from law school. It was neat as a pin, and just as Cisco had left it. Knowing her ex-husband’s vicious temper, Gillian had half expected this all to be destroyed by now. The fact it wasn’t gave her hope.

  Maybe Phillip wasn’t here after all, she thought on a relieved sigh.

  Nevertheless, every sense attuned and alert, she moved cautiously into the secretary’s office, where all the typing and copying and clerical work were done. Again, to her mixed feelings of suspicion and relief, everything seemed to be in order. Taking a deep breath, she pushed open the closed door to Cisco’s private office. Standing calmly behind Cisco’s desk was the demon from her dreams.

  Chapter Eleven

  “You’re looking good, Meg,” Phillip began.

  And he hadn’t changed, Gillian thought. He was still the same wolf in sheep’s clothing she had been duped into marrying years ago. The difference was she was not the same innocent young woman, lost and alone, and reeling with grief.

  “Phillip,” Gillian whispered hoarsely as her heart began to pound.

  Even as she spoke, she wondered how her ex-husband did it—managed to look like any urban professional, off on a weekend jaunt—when underneath he was so cold and so cruel. Maybe it was the black Polo shirt, khaki Dockers slacks, and loafers. Maybe it was the black hair, so neatly cut and combed, the handsome suntanned face, and dark brown…almost black…eyes. The outgoing demeanor and casual, sauntering walk. All she knew was that at six foot two inches tall and some 180 pounds Phillip would win any physical contest between them hands down. Therefore, she had to buy time, gauge his immediate intentions, and outsmart him!

  “I thought you were dead,” she said, and saw a flicker of cold amusement in his black eyes, before the grim anger and cold, civil smile returned.