by Mollie Molay
“Hello, Aunt Jane, Uncle Arthur,” Arden managed as she tried to straighten her disheveled appearance. Her velvet gown was limp and crushed beyond repair. She gave up the effort and turned her attention to her relatives. “I’m so glad to see you!” she lied.
“I doubt it, young lady.” Arden’s shirttail relative countered as she continued to glare at Luke. “Considering what’s going on in front of my eyes, I’m sure I’m probably the last person you wanted to see!”
Her aunt didn’t look the least bit intimidated by Luke’s dark appearance and forbidding manner, Arden realized with a sinking feeling. Visions of her aunt’s face if she caught a glimpse of the handcuff on his wrist or the chain leading to the briefcase flashed in front of her eyes. As her father’s distant relative, Jane Peterson would no doubt report what she’d seen as soon as she could insert coins in the nearest pay telephone. And, if she were true to form, fiction would be greater than facts.
Her aunt’s eyes glittered with suspicion and curiosity as she took in Arden and Luke. “Humph! In a public place! How could you? Have you forgotten you’re the daughter of a respected minister?”
“Now, Aunt Jane, please don’t leap to conclusions,” Arden pleaded. “No matter what you think, things aren’t what they seem to be.”
Growing up, Arden had always been reminded she must be an example for the other children in the congregation, and told she should let her conscience be her guide. But she wasn’t a child anymore, and her conscience seemed to be doing just fine.
She took a deep breath. “It’s a long story, but if you’ll give me a minute I’ll tell you what happened.”
“What is there to explain? The last I heard, you were going to be married to John Travers. That was only a few days ago. Now look at you.” Jane pointedly eyed a sprig of mistletoe in Arden’s hair and another in the vee of her wedding dress. Her accusing gaze took in the bottle of champagne at Arden’s feet. “Where is John, anyway?”
“Home, I guess,” Arden replied, beginning to seethe under her aunt’s prying eyes.
Her aunt snorted. “You guess? How could you not know? Who is this man and what are you doing here in his arms?”
“This is Luke McCauley. Luke, meet my Aunt Jane and Uncle Arthur Peterson.”
Luke smothered a groan when he noticed couples in the near vicinity had perked up and were listening to the conversation. On a scale of one to ten, his luck had sunk below zero. The only thing left to broadcast his identity to the whole terminal would have been a banner hung across the lounge with his name printed in scarlet letters. So far, he wasn’t aware of anyone in the vicinity who didn’t know his name. And, after the night’s events, for sure they’d all remember him.
The more people who could identify him, the less chance he had to fade easily into the sunset tomorrow.
He had a score to settle with the Majestic Hotel owners, too, he thought darkly. The damn briefcase they insisted be chained to his wrist may have been an innocent precaution to them, but in the eyes of a beholder, a dead giveaway. As for getting involved with Arden’s stolen luggage, that probably happened regularly around here. But he shouldn’t have gotten involved.
He watched Arden’s complexion turn white as her aunt continued with her harangue. His heart went out to Arden. He’d be damned if he’d let her take the flak for her innocent acceptance of his impulsive invitation to join him.
Luke quickly realized no excuse he could invent on the spur of the moment would improve matters for Arden, nor for himself, either. Not unless he made the ultimate sacrifice.
He took a deep breath and made an incredible decision.
He pulled Arden close to his side and under the guise of taking the mistletoe out of her hair, whispered in her ear. “Let me handle this. Okay?” She nodded.
“I’m Luke McCauley,” he repeated, “Arden’s husband.”
“Husband?” Jane and Arthur were left with their mouths open.
“Actually,” Luke continued, “I’m here on business—”
“Husband? Business? What kind of business?” Uncle Arthur hooted. “Never heard a honeymoon called business before.”
“Combined with a honeymoon,” Luke finished smoothly. “Your niece was decent enough to go along with me when I suggested we combine the two.” He eyed Arthur Peterson blandly, daring him to say something else.
“I don’t believe that for one minute, young man! Arden was supposed to marry John Travers this afternoon,” Arden’s aunt retorted. “Even the wedding invitations said so.”
“I guess you might say my plans changed at the last minute,” Arden managed. Her voice broke in a squeak when Luke threw his arm around her and pulled her close. The briefcase made a thud as it landed against her side. The chain rattled. Arden groaned.
Jane and Arthur Peterson’s eyes bugged.
“True,” Luke agreed, hurriedly putting the briefcase behind him. “’Our marriage was kind of sudden… an elopement, if you will. Because of some urgent business I have waiting for me, we couldn’t wait for a more formal ceremony.”
“Who are you, young man?” Arthur Peterson demanded, “and what’s on your wrist? Is that a handcuff?”
Luke shrugged. Arden’s uncle turned on his niece. “Arden Crandall, does your father know what kind of man you married?”
“No, but I’m sure one of you is going to be first to tell him,” Arden muttered under her breath. Her polite respect for the Petersons was strained. Enough was enough.
“Lord above, the man’s a criminal!” Jane Peterson announced.
“No, Aunt Jane. Luke’s a courier,” Arden corrected. “Anyway, the thing with John began to fall apart before—” Arden stopped when her aunt’s lips tightened and her eyes narrowed. Suddenly Arden realized she didn’t owe the Petersons anything. Not even the truth. They’d never accept the truth, anyway. Maybe because it wasn’t lurid enough.
She had nothing to lose now. Arthur and Jane Peterson were related to her father only by marriage and, saint that her father was, he put up with them only out of some misguided sense of family loyalty. Anyone less charitable than he would have told them long ago to take their annoying ways and disappear.
Jane continued her harangue. “For shame, young lady! Your father isn’t as young as he used to be. And for all you know, his heart might not be strong enough to take all of this.”
Her father’s heart! Arden froze. “What do you mean? What’s wrong with my father’s heart?”
“Nothing that I know of for certain,” her aunt replied tartly. “But it wouldn’t surprise me one bit if your behavior didn’t give the poor man a heart attack!”
Arden’s own heart leaped in her chest. “Luke, I have to find a telephone and call my father!”
“You haven’t changed your mind about going on with the tour, have you?” he asked.
“No,” Arden said worriedly as she dug into her purse. “I just want to make sure my father’s all right! Drat, I don’t have enough coins.”
“It’s a little late to worry about that, isn’t it?” Arden’s aunt remarked.
“No, Aunt Jane. It’s never too late to do the right thing.”
Her aunt rolled her eyes. “Let’s hope so.” She sniffed.
“Here, use this,” Luke said as he offered Arden his telephone credit card. He whispered his identity number in her ear. “Take as long as you like. I’ll wait right here for you.”
He gazed somberly after Arden as she took off at a run for the nearest telephone. For some reason the thought bothered him that the telephone call might end her dream of independence after less than twenty-four hours of freedom. She deserved more of a chance than that.
“I’m going with Arden and talk to her father myself,” her aunt Jane announced. “Maybe the two of us can talk some sense into her. I can’t let her go through with this dreadful nonsense!”
Luke took her firmly by the shoulder. “I don’t think so. There’s nothing dreadful about this. Just a marriage between people who love each othe
r. Why don’t you wait right here with me? My wife won’t be long.”
Love, marriage, wife! How strange the words sounded to his ears. He’d joked about it off and on during the evening with Arden, but he was dead serious now. If it was the only way to keep the Petersons from spreading gossip about Arden, so be it.
“DAD? IT’S ME, Arden.”
“Thank the Lord,” her father answered. “I’ve been praying you would call.”
“Are you feeling okay?”
“Okay?” he thundered through the telephone. “How could I be feeling okay?”
“Is it your heart?” Arden held her breath waiting for his answer. If she’d been the cause of an impending heart attack, she would never forgive herself.
“My heart? What does my heart have to do with this!”
Maybe a lot more than he ever dreamed, she thought. If he were actually ill, she’d have to go home. “Aunt Jane told me your heart is weak.”
“Aunt Jane? Jane Peterson? What were you doing with that old gossip? There’s nothing between that woman’s ears, and her tongue wags at both ends. My heart is fine. More to the point, it’s you who concerns me.”
“Don’t worry about me, Dad. Now that I know Aunt Jane was wrong, I’m doing fine.”
“Is that all you can say, young lady, you’re fine?” her father thundered. “Don’t you realize how you have humiliated me? No, don’t say another word, just come home.”
This was the first time Arden had ever really confronted her father or done anything he hadn’t approved of. Not that she hadn’t been tempted before, but she respected him too much to hurt him. This was something she’d had to do, or she would never be free of his loving restraints. Restraints that had almost led her to marry the wrong man.
“I never intended to humiliate you, Dad. I just realized marrying John was wrong. After all,” she added as she forced laughter into her voice even as she choked back tears, “you and Mom taught me to recognize right from wrong. It just took me a little while to realize how wrong I was. I was afraid you wouldn’t understand, so I left.”
“It seems to me you haven’t learned anything I taught you,” her father thundered into the phone. “If you had, you never would have run away from your own wedding. I insist you come home right now. We can talk this over later.”
Even though Arden could visualize her father’s choleric, reddened face, she was determined not to give in. If she went home, he would be the one to do the talking, she would be the one who had to listen. It was now or never.
“I can’t, Dad.”
Arden heard her mother crying in the background. John’s voice was asking to speak to her. She had to hang up before she allowed herself to be persuaded to go home. Somehow she had to make her father understand she had to live her own life.
“Dad, I love you, but I have to go. Please tell Mom not to worry and that I’ll call later.”
“Wait! Listen to me! I demand you come home immediately!”
“I’m sorry, I can’t do that,” Arden answered sadly. “I’m not your little girl anymore. Listening to you is what put me in this position in the first place. I have to see if I can make it on my own.”
“Jezebel!”
“No, Dad. Just me, Arden. I’m sorry if I can’t make you understand. I love you and Mom, but I have to do this. I have to be my own woman, not just your child. This is the only way I know to do it.” She choked a little on the last words. “Goodbye.”
Arden hurried back to find her aunt and uncle. It had been painful trying to explain to her father the enormous changes that were happening in her life. But it would be a pleasure to tell off Jane and Arthur.
She found Luke alone.
“What did you do with my aunt and uncle?”
“I persuaded them you were in good hands, namely mine. I also strongly suggested they leave.” He looked off into the distance, grimaced. “That aunt of yours is some pistol. I somehow have the feeling you haven’t heard the last of her.”
“She’s probably off somewhere calling my father right now.”
“That shouldn’t make a difference as long as you reached him before she does. You did, didn’t you?”
“Yes,” Arden answered mournfully. “For all the good it did me.”
“Is he well?”
“Thank goodness, yes. Aunt Jane was mistaken about his health. But he’s still too upset to be reasonable. In fact, I didn’t get a chance to tell him much. I’m hoping he’ll come around eventually.”
“You can bet your aunt will pad the story from her imagination,” Luke said dryly. “I just hope she doesn’t mention the briefcase when she tells him about me. That would be enough to give the poor man a heart attack even if he hasn’t a weak heart.”
Arden shuddered. “I wish you could get rid of it. It gives me the willies.”
“Me, too, for that matter. But I don’t have a prayer of opening the lock. Not yet. Just what did your father have to say?”
“He told me I’m going to go to hell!” Arden said the words defiantly, but there was obviously still some pain. After all, he was her father.
“He doesn’t really mean it, I’m sure,” Luke said. “But even so, I guess you’d have plenty of company,” he laughed. “Me included. Did you tell him we were married?”
“No, should I have?”
There was a pause while Luke considered the question.
“Probably, if you didn’t want him to worry. But that’s okay. I’m sure your Aunt Jane will get around to telling him for you. And with my luck, there’ll be an all-points bulletin out for a Luke McCauley any time now. Come on, let’s see if we can get lost in the crowd.”
There, he’d made a commitment in spite of himself. But how could he not have when Arden needed him?
“Paging Miss Arden Crandall. Please pick up the courtesy telephone at your gate.”
“Oh, no, it must be my father,” Arden said. She looked around her wildly. “He’s found out where I am!”
“Did you tell him you were here?” Luke asked.
“No. But I’ll bet Aunt Jane did.” Anxiously Arden hurried to pick up the red courtesy telephone.
“Arden? This is your father. Jane just called. She tells me you claim to be married!”
Arden thought fast. How should she answer? She’d never lied to her father and she wouldn’t start now.
“Sort of, but that’s not the whole story.”
“Sort of?” he snorted. “And to a man like the one you’re with? Either you are or you aren’t!”
“What did Aunt Jane tell you about Luke?”
“’When I got that woman calmed down, she told me some fool story about a man with a handcuff on his wrist. She told me he’s a criminal!”
“He’s not a criminal, Dad. Far from it. He’s a wonderful man who’s taken good care of me. As for the handcuff, he’s a courier delivering a briefcase.”
“It still doesn’t sound to me as if he’s very trustworthy. How could you marry someone like that just minutes after you abandoned a fine man like John?”
Arden heard the genuine pain in her father’s voice and wished she could be there beside him. It would have made this conversation so much easier.
“’I tried to explain it to Aunt Jane, but she wouldn’t listen. She was set on believing the worst. Luke isn’t…”
Luke reached over her shoulder and took the phone with his free hand. He drew Arden close to him with the other.
“This is Luke McCauley, sir. I just want to tell you Arden is fine and that she’s in good hands.” He held the phone away from his ear when there was shouting on the other end.
“No, sir,” Luke returned quietly. “There hasn’t been any sin. You have my word on it.”
“The word of a criminal!”
“No, Mr. Crandall. I assure you I’m not a criminal. I’m sorry you feel that way. And I’m sorry for Arden, too. She’s a fine woman and she deserves respect and understanding.”
Luke felt a pang of guilt. It was tru
e he’d contemplated disappearing with the contents of the briefcase. He hadn’t quite made up his mind. Was it because he hadn’t had the chance? Or was it because he knew he wasn’t actually a thief at heart?
There was a long silence from the other end. “Let me talk to my daughter.”
Luke shrugged and handed the phone back to Arden.
“Daughter, stay where you are. I’ll come to get you.”
“No, it’s impossible with this storm. I love you, Dad, but I’m on my own now. Yes, I know what I’m doing. Maybe someday you’ll understand. Give my love to Mom. Goodbye.”
There were tears in her eyes when she hung up. Luke held her to him and let her tears flow against his chest He knew from experience how hard it was to make the decision to forge a new life. How much harder would it be for a woman like Arden?
“You’ll be fine, Arden,” he told her. “It’s just going to take some time. Cutting loose from the past isn’t easy, but I’d say you just took a giant step.”
Chapter Four
“Hey!” a happy bridegroom hollered, holding up a bottle of champagne just as Arden and Luke returned to the gate area. “As long as we’re stuck here for the duration, why don’t we have ourselves a wedding reception?”
“A wedding reception? In an airport terminal?” someone in the background asked.
“Why not?” a woman answered. “We might as well. It looks as if we’re going to miss the one Majestic planned for us at their hotel.”
“Good idea,” another groom announced. “Sweetheart, where did you put the bottle of champagne Majestic gave us that we were saving for later?”
“Turn up the radio. Maybe there’s music for dancing.”
“Hey, I’ve got my guitar!”
“And I’ve got my harmonica!”
“Casey, are you sure we can have our wedding reception right here?”
“Why not?” the man called Casey answered. “It looks as if it’s going to be the only reception we’re going to have tonight.”
“You’re right!” Agnes Chambers, the tour leader, agreed. “Here, have another bottle of champagne. I’ve given out one to each party, but I seem to have one left.”