The Bride Came C.O.D. (Bachelor Fathers)

by Barbara Bretton

  "That's silly," said Kelsey. "Nobody wants to cry." She patted Alexa Grace's hair with an awkwardly maternal gesture that put a big fat lump right in the middle of his throat.

  "I don't know where my brains were," Lexi said, sniffling loudly and blotting at her tear-stained eyes with the edge of the paper toweling. "I always cry during Disney movies. Especially ones with dogs in them."

  "Do you have a puppy?" Kelsey asked.

  Lexi shook her head. "I had a puppy when I was a little girl. His name was Fred."

  Kelsey looked up at Kiel. "I want a puppy, Daddy. Lexi had one when she was a little girl."

  Thanks a lot, he mouthed over Kelsey's head.

  Alexa Grace grinned and shrugged her shoulders in a what can I do? gesture.

  "Fred?" he asked Lexi, grinning back at her.

  "I was six years old and a major Flintstones fan. It seemed like a good idea at the time."

  "Fred's not a bad name for a dog," he said.

  She smoothed her pale blond hair off her face with a spare, elegant gesture that hinted at an upbringing a hell of a lot different than his own working class background. "I'll have you know that Fred was short for Frederick, King of Dogs."

  He turned his head away.

  "Go ahead," she said airily. "Laugh if you like. Fred was an incredibly brilliant dog."

  Kelsey tugged at the sleeve of his sweater. "You had a dog when you were a little boy, daddy, didn't you?"

  Funny how those memories never left you. "Bingo," he said, ignoring Lexi's rippling laughter. "World's greatest mutt."

  "Bingo?" Lexi asked, unable to contain herself. "You actually named your dog Bingo?" She rolled her eyes for his benefit as well as for Kelsey's. "Why not be original and call him Rover."

  Even Kelsey, his traitorous daughter, found that one funny.

  "Bingo was a canine genius," he said, not exaggerating a bit. "He could tell time."

  "Daddy!" Kelsey's voice was choked with laughter. "Dogs can't tell time!"

  "Bingo could," he insisted. "He'd be waiting at the front door for me every afternoon at three o'clock. He knew when I got out of school and he was there waiting for me."

  Kelsey sighed and pressed her head against his leg. "I want a dog, too."

  "When we get back home you can have a dog," he said.

  "But I want a dog now."

  "Now isn't a good time to get a dog, Kelse."

  Kelsey's chin trembled. He felt like the worst kind of rat. "Everyone has a dog except me."

  Lexi, who had been listening quietly to their discussion, stood up and brushed popcorn from her lap. "You must be exhausted," she said to Kiel. "Kelsey and I will make supper while you play with your weights or whatever it is you do out here before you go to sleep."

  "I'm not tired," he said.

  "You should be. You've been working hellish hours." The look she gave him was frankly curious. "I'm still trying to figure out how you catalog wildlife when you never see any. When that moose strutted through the front yard last week you didn't even act surprised."

  "Not much surprises you when you live in Alaska."

  "Maybe not," she said, "but I find it curious that a man who makes his living worrying about the natural world seems to have an aversion to it."

  He met her eyes. "Let's go out for supper."

  Her mouth dropped open. "What?"

  "You heard me. Get your coat, get Kelsey's, and let's get the hell out of here."

  He watched, mesmerized, as her eyes lit with pleasure. "Where will we go?"

  "I don't know," he said. "Into town, maybe." An idea struck. "There's a roadhouse on the western edge that's supposed to have the best food around."

  "That's not saying much," Lexi remarked dryly. "There's no competition."

  Kelsey was bending G.I. Joe into painful contortions. "Hey, Kelse. What would you say about going for a ride?"

  Kelsey's shriek of excitement was answer enough.

  He grinned.

  Alexa Grace smiled.

  It was going to be a great afternoon.

  "Stop being ridiculous," Lexi muttered as Kiel chatted with the old man at the filling station while the Jeep was being gassed up. "You're acting like a kid on her first date."

  "What?" asked Kelsey from the back seat.

  "Nothing, honey. I was talking to myself."

  Kelsey giggled. "That's silly." She returned her attention to her coloring book.

  Silly? No, it wasn't silly. It was insane, that's what it was. The three of them were going to some rinky-dink roadhouse for burgers and fries and Lexi's foolish heart was doing backflips at the prospect. How utterly ridiculous could you get.

  It's not like you're dating the man, she reminded herself as he climbed back into the truck and she caught that tantalizing scent of soap and spice that she'd come to associate with him. You're married to him!

  Which struck her suddenly as so outlandish that she started to laugh.

  "Private joke?" he asked.

  She shook her head. "Not really. It just occurred to me that we're married."

  He slanted a look in her direction. "You just realized that?"

  She met his glance. "You must admit this is not your conventional marriage."

  "No," he said, "it's not."

  "They have a phrase for this in romance novels," she said. "They call them marriages of convenience."

  He chuckled. "Convenience isn't the first thing that springs to mind."

  "You have someone to take care of Kelsey," she pointed out. "Surely that's convenient."

  He couldn't deny that. Unfortunately neither could he deny the way he felt each time he climbed between the sheets and was enveloped with the scent of lilacs and of her skin.

  He cleared his throat. "One good thing," he said. "At least we know this won't last forever. I--uh, I made some real progress the last couple of days. Things are moving along."

  "I don't know how you can be so sure," Lexi said. "It's not even spring yet. You can't study migratory patterns until all the animals are finished migrating."

  She had a point. Too bad he couldn't tell her the truth. "I've been here since May," he said as he veered the Jeep away from a ditch in the road.

  "That long?"

  "That long."

  They both fell silent but the silence between them held a different quality.

  It can't be over this soon, Lexi thought. Six months. She'd been promised the six months she needed to claim her inheritance. That had been part of the bargain. So why is it you feel sad, Alexa Grace, and not angry? She should be furious that her fortune might slip through her hands. She should be looking for the nearest available telephone so she could call Joanna and read her the riot act.

  Instead she found herself thinking about Kelsey, her soft dark brown hair, her laughter...her father.

  That's not possible, she thought, casting a quick glance in Kiel's direction. Oh, they'd reached an accommodation between them but nothing more. Except for sharing a midday meal they rarely even saw each other. But that darn meal had become the best part of her day.

  Kelsey obviously adored her father and there was no doubt that Kiel was equally crazy about his daughter. Did he see his late wife every time he looked at her? Lexi found herself wondering about that more often than she should. Her father had grieved for her mother until the day he died. No one had ever been able to take the place of Brandon Marsden's beloved wife.

  Was it the same for Kiel? Did he think of Helena every day? Would he ever love anyone the way he'd loved Kelsey's mother?

  How would it feel to love someone enough to pledge your life to her, to have a child together, then to see all of your dreams shattered by a tragic accident.

  She wondered if broken hearts ever mended, and she wondered if it was any of her business whether or not they did.

  Don't be a fool, she chided herself. Remember this marriage is an illusion, not a reality. A reality of her own making. She'd gone into this with her eyes open and her priorities straight
and if this marriage of convenience turned out to be more complicated than she'd expected that was nobody's problem but her own.

  There was something incredibly intimate about sharing a bed even if they never found themselves in that bed at the same time. She wondered if he thought about her when he climbed between the sheets. Did the scent of her lilac soap linger? Did he even notice? Suddenly it seemed terribly important to know these things before it was too late and they went their separate ways.

  Was she crying?

  He whipped the Jeep into the lot adjacent to Ranaghan's Road House. He set the parking brake and shot a sharp look in her direction.

  Her eyes were wet.

  With tears?

  Why would she be crying over him? Maybe she had a cold. Winter was in the air and she wasn't used to the bitter iciness of that season in Alaska. Neither was he, for that matter, but she was so small, so delicate, that he had trouble imagining her bundled up in a parka and battling her way to the woodpile.

  Like you're going to ask her to cart firewood inside, that same annoying voice mocked him. He knew damn well he'd make sure there were plenty of logs stacked near the hearth. Some marriage of convenience this is, Mr. Wizard. Why don't you just tell her to put her feet up and eat bonbons while you do all the work?

  "Shut up," he muttered as he climbed out of the truck and went around to help Lexi and his daughter out. Kelsey obviously adored Alexa Grace. Anyone who could keep a four-year-old child happy, healthy, and occupied twenty-four hours a day deserved his respect and admiration.

  There's more, Superman. Why don't you admit it's true?

  He swung open the door to the truck and offered Lexi his hand. She met his eyes and smiled. His heart did a 360.

  Told you so, said the little voice. You're in trouble.

  Ranaghan's Road House looked like a set from an old John Wayne movie, one of those rough-and-tumble, good natured, boys-will-be-boys movies that made technicolor the success that it was. Lots of lumber, lots of laughter, lots of people.

  Whatever hold on reality Lexi still possessed vanished the moment she stepped inside. The walls were covered with animal heads--moose, deer, assorted furry creatures--and dead fish mounted on polished wooden plaques beside signs that read, "You Should Have Seen The One That Got Away."

  Country music blared from the jukebox at the far end of the bar. Garth Brooks or Randy Travis or the Gene Autry--Lexi couldn't tell the difference. A group of men in plaid flannel shirts crowded the bar while two middle-aged women sat at a table near the window and chatted amiably while they worked on their knitting. A knot of little kids laughed together at another table as they played a game of Chutes and Ladders. It took Kelsey all of ten seconds to join them.

  "For heaven sake," Lexi said as she watched the children welcome Kelsey into their group, "that's the Mulroney grandkids."

  The words were no sooner out of her mouth when Imelda and her husband bore down on them, filled with greetings and good cheer.

  "Fancy meeting you here," said Imelda, pulling Lexi to her bosom in an embrace. "Figured you'd be holed up in your house 'til spring."

  "Cabin fever," said Lexi, wishing the woman had a lighter touch with her cologne. She looked over at Kiel who didn't seem too thrilled to bump into their neighbors. "Kiel decided to take the afternoon off and take us out for lunch."

  Imelda released Lexi then enveloped Kiel in a bear hug. "Aren't you the most wonderful hubby in the world!” She raised her voice to a stunning decibel level. "Everyone, we have us some newlyweds!"

  The men at the bar muttered something that sounded suspiciously like sympathy. The knitting women oohed and aahed their approval. Someone else called out, "A toast to the newlyweds!" and ordered the bartender to get out the Macnish and some glasses.

  "What's Macnish?" Lexi whispered to Kiel.

  "Sounds like some kind of Scotch," he whispered back.

  "Best Scotch in the known universe," said Imelda's husband who'd overheard them. "But you need yourself an iron-clad stomach."

  Lexi opted for ginger ale while Kiel contented himself with a local beer. They listened while a seventy-something waitress read the specials off a chalkboard on the wall. Salisbury steak. Meatloaf sandwiches. Cheeseburger.

  "They're all hamburger," Lexi observed with a shake of her head.

  They placed their own orders and asked for a plain hamburger and milk for Kelsey. The waitress bustled away, leaving the newlyweds alone together at their table.

  "Imelda's watching us," Kiel said, draining his mug of beer.

  "She has a soft spot for newlyweds," Lexi said.

  "She wouldn't much like the truth, would she?"

  "No," said Lexi, "I don't imagine she would."

  "Daddy!" Kelsey popped up at their table. "Can I have a quarter for the games?"

  "Your burger'll be here in a few minutes, Kelse. Why don't you wait?"

  Lexi reached into her pocket and dug out a quarter. "Here, sweetie," she said, handing the coin to the little girl. "The first one's on me. Just make sure you're back here for your lunch."

  Kelsey skipped away to rejoin the Mulroney grandkids. It was one of those easy, family moments that happened a million times a day all across the country. One parent says no, one parent says yes, and the yes parent wins. Only thing was, it had never happened before with Kiel and Lexi. She hadn't given it a split second's worth of thought. Giving Kelsey the quarter had seemed as natural as breathing.

  "I'm sorry if I stepped on your toes," she said, gesturing toward Kelsey who was playing at an old Ms. Pac-Man machine.

  "No problem," he said.

  "I didn't mean to override you."

  "Don't worry about it."

  "I apologize if I--"

  He reached across the table and took her hand. "Enough," he said, his voice gruff. "You gave her a quarter, not a sub-machine gun. It's okay."

  She couldn't help it. Her gaze dropped to their hands resting atop the table. His gaze followed hers. He didn't say anything and neither did she. They just sat there, looking at each other and holding hands while either Whitney Houston, Reba McIntyre, or Dolly Parton sang loudly in the background.

  He's doing this for Imelda's benefit, Lexi told herself. So we look like real newlyweds.

  She's good, thought Kiel as he held her hand. You'd think she really was a blushing bride.

  "Heads up," said the waitress. "Food's here."

  He released her hand. Reluctantly.

  She pulled her hand away. Regretfully.

  "Kelse!" Kiel called. "Your burger's ready."

  The waitress asked Kiel if he wanted another beer. She brought Lexi a second ginger ale. Kelsey took her seat at the table, her big blue eyes dancing with excitement.

  "Daddy," Kelsey said, "can I have Nintendo at home?"

  Kiel looked at his daughter and groaned out loud. Lexi couldn't help it. She threw back her head and she laughed.

  Their moment ended.

  But not the awareness that things between them were changing and there could be no turning back.

  Chapter 10

  Lexi was laughing at one of the bartender's many stories about the time he tackled the Iditarod race when she saw a familiar face walk through the door. "MacDougal!" she said, pointing toward the burly pilot. "What on earth is he doing here?"

  Kiel swiveled around in his chair to take a look. "Delivering another bride?" he asked dryly.

  She swatted him with her paper napkin. "Very funny."

  Imelda Mulroney didn't miss a trick. "Aren't you two the sweetest things ever?" she said in a syrupy tone of voice. "There's nothing in the world like young love."

  "I'm almost twenty-five," Lexi pointed out. "That's not all that young." In three days she'd reach the quarter-century mark and be of legal age to inherit her father's fortune. Provided, of course, that she remained married.

  "Greetings," said MacDougal, as he approached their table. He was carrying a bottle of beer. "How's married life treating you folks?"

&
nbsp; "Fine," said Lexi in a stiffly formal tone of voice. "Did you rob any unsuspecting tourists of their hard-earned money today?" That four hundred fifty dollar tab still rankled.

  "Feisty as a pole cat," MacDougal observed. He turned to Kiel. "Surprised you look so chipper, all things considered. She's the mouthiest woman I've ever met."

  "Highway robbery is highway robbery," Lexi declared. "If you're going to overcharge your customers, the least you should do is take American Express."

  "Angus is expensive," Imelda observed, "but he's the best bush pilot in the state. No one copes with overflow better than our Mr. McDougal."

  Overflow? Both Kiel and Lexi looked blank. Imelda explained that overflow was a refreeze situation that could trap a downed plane before a pilot had a chance to re-start the engine.

  "That's why we strap snowshoes under the wings," MacDougal said as he took a long sip of beer. "Never know what you're going to need or why."

  "Aren't you just the world's oldest Boy Scout," Lexi muttered, trying to ignore Kiel's warning look.

  "And how are those adorable grandbabies of yours?" Imelda asked.

  "Fine and dandy. Got some new pictures you might like to see."

  "Cute," said Lexi when it was her turn to admire the photos. But not half as cute as Kelsey.

  "Cut him some slack," Kiel said quietly. "The guy's in business to make a buck."

  "That's not what you said when I arrived."

  "I wasn't expecting to foot the bill."

  "Well, neither was I. I thought Ryder or Joanna would--"

  MacDougal startled her by reaching for her hand. She hadn't realized the pilot had moved directly behind them. "That's Patsy Cline on the jukebox. How about a dance with the bride?"

  Imelda clapped her hands with glee before Lexi had the chance to speak. "Dancing! That's what we were missing at your wedding party. Our bride and groom have to dance!" She leaped to her feet. "Crank up the volume, Riggins!" she called to the bartender. "We're going to have us some fun."

  "Not what MacDougal had in mind," Kiel observed as she stepped into his embrace. "He wanted to dance with you."

  "Not what we had in mind either," she said as his hand came to rest at the small of her back.