She offered no details, promising more to come, but her duty done, the inevitable happened. Only five minutes after she returned to the swirling snow haze of the interstate, hot tears abruptly began spilling from her eyes.
She needed a good cry, but she knew this wasn’t the best weather for tear-blurred vision. Still, the sadness that welled up inside her each time she recalled the grim finality of their parting only forced more teardrops to roll down her cheeks.
As if life hadn’t dumped on her enough lately, a flashing blue gumball appeared in the rearview mirror and dogged her.
It’s the crunched-up rear end of the Jeep, she guessed, hurriedly trying to wipe her eyes. Probably a brakelight was out. Now she would get a ticket in addition to everything else.
Depressed and resigned, she flipped on the right-turn signal and slowed, pulling off as wide as she could on the snow-clogged shoulder of the highway. A big rig whooshed by, rocking the Jeep. She parked and rolled down her window, waiting for the trooper.
A form, indiscernible in the blowing whiteness, stepped out of the passenger’s side of the cruiser.
A second later she almost cried out when her own passenger’s door flew open.
Before she could even recover from her fright, Quinn was sitting beside her. He cupped her face with warm hands.
“After you left,” he told her, “I asked Todd to leave me alone some more. I did nothing but think about us. You know what? I think you did reprogram my heart. All I know is, I don’t want to be without you.”
Not sure if his words were still welcome to her ears, he added in a more joking tone, “Think there are any jobs in Mystery suitable for an Assistant U.S. Attorney?”
She couldn’t speak. It seemed like a dream. His coming out of the whiteout seemed like she had somehow conjured him from the cold storm of her hope. She touched his face to be sure that it was real. He was. Warm and strong. The man she remembered. The man she knew.
A tumult of emotions closed her throat. She let the ardor of a kiss answer for her, even as she realized: she was still a little afraid that the adventure of true love might be even more harrowing than the one she’d just experienced.
But she was determined to go along for the ride. As she had the last one. On belief alone.
As for a job suitable for Quinn—in her mind she could already hear Hazel declaring they’d make a job for him if one didn’t exist. The Matriarch of Mystery had already made it clear that Quinn rated aces high with her. And Constance knew part of the old girl’s motivation was quite personal—the secret glee of a successful matchmaker.
When he pulled back to study her face, she was startled by the intense seriousness of those smoke-tinted eyes.
“I have to ask this right now,” he told her, “and no matter what, I want the truth. Promise?”
She nodded, her heart racing with fearful suspense.
“Can you really love me after all I put you through? Not just now in the flush of emotions. I mean—later, when all this sinks in?”
“I can, I do, and I will,” she assured him without a moment’s hesitation. “After your initial deception to lure me into the cabin, when you were bleeding and desperate, you were always right up front with me. Every single detail you told me turned out to be true.”
She paused and flashed him a rueful smile through tears that were now welcome—tears of joy.
“What?” he demanded.
“It’s just awfully ironic,” she explained as their lips drew ineluctably closer and closer together, “that the first honest man I ever found—” their lips met…and both felt the current of pleasure “—kidnapped me,” she finished breathlessly.
Epilogue
Hazel McCallum looked down at the telegram in her hand. It was from Paris. A sly smile tipped the corner of her lips as she moved them to read it in silence.
Dear Hazel,
Quinn and I were married today here. We wished you were here but we had to leave quickly to get away from the publicity. I never knew the press would be so excited about our romance on the run! We are thinking of you. You were our matron of honor in spirit. We’ll see you as soon as we return to Mystery. Quinn is excited about our new log home by the river. He told me today to name our baby Hazel—but what if it’s a boy? Jake, then?
With love,
Connie and Quinn
As she was now in the habit of doing, Hazel went to Jake McCallum’s portrait and put another notch in the walnut frame. Number two match was made. Jacquelyn and A.J. were first. Third was coming up.
She mused on all the possibilities. There were so many fine folks in Mystery who needed pairing up. But it wasn’t always the obvious ones. Sometimes they just appeared on the doorstep, needing her help or sometimes they—
The phone rang, interrupting her thoughts.
She picked it up and said automatically in her no-nonsense voice, “McCallum Ranch.”
“Hazel?”
“As right as rain.”
The laugh was familiar at the other end. “And don’t I know it. I’m your doctor, remember?”
Hazel narrowed her eyes. “Doctor? Is that what you call yourself?” She gave a hrrumph. “A doctor goes out in a snowstorm and births babies. A doctor dispenses wisdom with his prescriptions. When was the last time you did that, you wet-behind-the-ears geriatric specialist?”
“Give me some time, Hazel, and I promise to do all that and more. Just give me some time.”
“Time? You’re in your thirties and you haven’t even started a family. You’re running out of time, if I set my watch correctly—”
Hazel looked at the phone in amazement.
She didn’t even hear Dr. Saville mumble, “Maybe I could get to that if all my patients weren’t so difficult. Now are you taking the blood pressure medicine I prescribed or do I have to come out there for myself to see you take it…”
A big gorgeous smile creased her face.
Sometimes the needy folk just appeared on the doorstep, and then sometimes they called you up on the phone to annoy you about your medications.
She took a look at Jake McCallum’s portrait with the two notches on the frame. She smiled and thought: Yep, I think I’ll put the next notch right over there.
ISBN: 978-1-4592-4105-3
THE LAWMAN MEETS HIS BRIDE
Copyright © 2000 by Ruth Goodman
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* Matched in Montana
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