WHITELAW'S WEDDING

by Beverly Barton

  He broke the speed limit getting them through Dearborn and out of town toward the Poloma River. Manda sat tensely, her hands clasped together in her lap. A couple of times he stole a quick glimpse of her in his peripheral vision and saw that her eyes were closed. He knew she was praying—praying for the life of a sweet, innocent dog.

  The moment he brought the car to a screeching halt, Manda unhooked her seat belt, shoved open the door and jumped out onto the driveway. She ran around to the back of the house to the screened-in porch. First she visually scanned the yard, then opened the unlocked screened door and cried out the dog's name. When Hunter came up behind her, he saw Oxford lying deadly still on the porch floor. Manda knelt over the dog to examine him.

  "He's still breathing," she said.

  "Let me check him." Hunter knelt on the other side and ran his hands over Oxford's body and limbs. "I can't find an injury of any kind. That probably means poison. We need to get him to the vet as soon as possible."

  When Manda started to lift Oxford, Hunter handed her his car keys, then scooped the fifty-pound dog into his arms. "Open the car door, then get in and I'll put him in your lap. We'll call the vet on our way there."

  She nodded, then ran off the porch and around to the driveway. Within minutes they were headed up Bermuda Road

  , back toward Dearborn.

  * * *

  Dr. Charlie, as everyone affectionately called Charles Henderson, the veterinarian who'd been tending to the animals in and around Dearborn for the past thirty-five years, patted Manda on the back as he handed her a tissue.

  "Blow your nose, Manda. Everything is going to be all right."

  A weight lifted from her heart. "Did you have to pump Oxford's stomach or what?"

  "No need for that," Dr. Charlie said. "By the way, Oxford wasn't poisoned."

  "He wasn't?"

  "No. Somebody doped him up on sleeping pills." Charlie shook his head sadly. "Who'd do a thing like that to our Oxford? Luckily, he threw up all over the place, which got most of the pills out of his stomach, but he digested enough to keep him sound asleep for another hour or so. My guess is that he'd thrown up earlier, before y'all found him and that's what saved him."

  "Sleeping pills. Could those pills have killed him?" she asked.

  "Sure could have, as many as he was given. Somebody didn't intend for Oxford to wake up," Dr. Charlie told them.

  "Should we leave Oxford here or can we take him home?" Hunter asked.

  "If y'all don't mind staying around here for a while. I'll let him go home as soon as he wakes up."

  * * *

  Two hours later they arrived at the Whitelaw farm—Manda, Hunter, Oxford and a huge picnic basket from a local restaurant that specialized in meals-to-go. Oxford was wide awake, if somewhat unsteady on his legs when Manda first lifted him out of the car and put him down on the ground. But he immediately began sniffing at nearby bushes. Hunter removed the basket from the back seat. After the ordeal with Oxford, he'd thought Manda needed a distraction, so he had suggested picking up dinner and brining Oxford out to the farm to run around until dark. Manda had readily agreed.

  Quite a few prayers had been answered when Oxford survived. If they hadn't gotten the spaniel to the vet as quickly as they had, he would have died. Whoever drugged Oxford and managed to place a gift among the other presents at Manda's bridal shower had intended to kill her dog.

  Warning letters, a phone call, a bomb threat and now drugging Oxford. Hunter knew what was next—an attempt on his life. Tonight. Tomorrow. Tomorrow night. Their Mr. Maniac was bound to attack before Manda's wedding day. Time was running out. The one thing Hunter wished he knew was whether their nutcase had hired himself a professional or if he would try to handle the job himself. Going by his experience and his gut instincts, Hunter would bet on a professional, even if the guy turned out to be a two-bit hood who could be bought for a thousand bucks. And he figured the hit would come tomorrow night. Before, during or after the rehearsal dinner/engagement party.

  While they'd been at the veterinary clinic, he had called the Dundee agency and requested a backup agent. Ellen had said that Wolfe was available and would drive down from Atlanta this evening and be available for as long as Hunter needed him. He trusted Wolfe, admired his finesse and expertise. The man seemed to be adept at just about everything, except sharing personal information about himself. He figured there was something pretty bad in Wolfe's past, some real heavy-duty crap. Otherwise, why all the mystery? Only a guy with secrets too deadly to be revealed became such an enigma.

  And Ellen had told him that she'd be able to send Matt and Jack by tomorrow evening, since both were due in from assignments by noon. He'd accepted her offer, knowing that three extra sets of eyes and ears would help ensure the success of this mission. And tomorrow the prime focus of the mission would be to keep Hunter Whitelaw alive.

  "You're doing a good job of rescuing me," Manda said to him as she watched Oxford exploring around the house, occasionally marking his territory. "Whenever things become overwhelming, you whisk me away like a white knight."

  "That's my job." But what he did for Manda was more than any damn assignment. Knowing what he knew now, he would have taken this task on his own, without any inducement from Perry. In a short period of time, his estimation of Manda as a human being had drastically changed. He'd always thought of her as a golden girl, and in a way, she still was. She might be rich and pampered by those who loved her, but she was no longer a spoiled brat, no longer a little hellion who thought of no one except herself.

  Her grateful smile wavered. "If you give all your clients this kind of special treatment, your services must be in high demand."

  Hunter realized that he had inadvertently hurt her feelings, which was the last thing on earth he wanted to do. This woman had been hurt enough. More than enough.

  After setting the picnic basket down on the porch steps, he walked over beside her, but didn't touch her. "This is more than an assignment to me. I think you know that."

  She avoided eye contact, instead she surveyed her surroundings. "Yes, I know that you're doing this for Perry."

  Sometimes she could still be an infuriating brat. Like right now. She was going to make him admit that he had feelings for her, that she was more to him than his best friend's little sister.

  "I took the case because Perry asked me to," Hunter admitted. "But you know I care about you. And not because you're Perry's sister."

  She looked at him then, a head-on collision of gazes. "You sound angry about it. You care about me, but you don't want to. Is that it?"

  "Damn it, Manda, do we have to argue? Just believe me when I say that I care about you and will do everything in my power to help you."

  "I believe you," she said.

  "But?"

  "No buts." She walked toward the porch. "So, where do we have our picnic?"

  Just let it go, Whitelaw, he told himself. Don't delve too deeply into your emotions or hers. Either was dangerous territory. He figured that Manda was as confused about her feelings as he was, and now certainly wasn't the time for any major confessions.

  "How about in the orchard?" he suggested. "It's a warm springtime evening and the orchard is beautiful this time of year. I can get a quilt from the house and a bowl for some water for Oxford. How does that sound?"

  "It sounds nice. And restful. But is it safe?"

  He came over to her, lifted the picnic basket and whistled for Oxford, who came running. "Looks like he's fine." He nodded toward the dog. "And yes, we should be safe here. No one knows where we are. Believe me, I kept an eye out for a tail. No one followed us. And if by some remote chance anyone shows up, I'm prepared."

  "Then what are we waiting for? Believe it or not, I'm hungry."

  * * *

  They spread the old patchwork quilt out on the ground near the pear orchard. The trees were ripe with budding fruit. On the western horizon, the sun dipped low, and already myriad bold, brilliant colors coated the sky. A wis
py evening breeze wafted about them, soft and warm. Hunter opened the bottle of zinfandel, while Manda spread out the array of delectable delights. Sandwiches, potato salad, pickles, cheese and fruit. Enough food to feed half a dozen people. They sat across from each other, the banquet between them. A chorus of nighttime insects sang, the music faint now, but after dark the serenade would grow louder.

  Oxford chased a butterfly around for several minutes, then when he smelled food, came lolloping toward them, his tail wagging and his tongue hanging out.

  Even now, with Oxford safe, she couldn't quite let go of the tension that had painfully knotted her stomach when she'd thought she might lose her precious pet. Over the years she had lost too much. She didn't think she could bear another loss. She had thought that loving a dog would be a safe outlet for her affections, that she couldn't be hurt by loving an animal. But even Oxford wasn't immune to the Manda Munroe Curse.

  What was she going to do about her feelings for Hunter? She couldn't let him know that she was falling in love with him. If he were in possession of that knowledge, it would make her much too vulnerable. More so than she already was. Although he wasn't the type of man who would take advantage of a woman, if he knew she loved him, he wouldn't hesitate to carry their relationship to the next level. And she couldn't deny that a part of her longed for that final act of physical intimacy. At sixteen, she had dreamed of Hunter being her first lover. She could easily make that dream come true now. All she had to do was say yes.

  Even if Hunter was able to banish Mr. Maniac from her life, he wouldn't be able to protect her from himself. If she didn't stop this insanity, this headlong fall into loving him, she would find herself alone and brokenhearted when Hunter walked out of her life.

  "Wine?" he asked as he held out one of the glass flutes that the restaurant provided with the basket.

  She accepted the glass, but didn't sip the wine until he poured a drink for himself. He lifted the glass in a salute.

  "Here's to a peaceful evening," he said.

  "I'll definitely drink to that."

  Oxford nudged Manda's arm. His cold, wet nose tickled her skin. She set the glass between her knees, then petted her playful dog. "Are you hungry, boy? Want some cheese or a sandwich?"

  "You've spoiled that dog rotten." Hunter grinned. "He thinks he's a baby instead of a dog."

  "I like spoiling him," Manda admitted. "And in a way, he is my baby."

  Hunter picked up a sandwich half and tossed it to Oxford. "I'm sorry, Manda. I realize that if either of your marriages had come off as planned, you'd have some kids by now. You have every right to lavish attention on Oxford."

  She took one of the plastic plates, also provided by the restaurant, and dipped up potato salad, then added a sandwich and a pickle. "What about you, have you ever wanted a family? Do you want to have children someday?"

  Hunter ate half a sandwich in two bites, then washed it down with a hefty swig of wine. "When I married Selina, I thought we'd have a baby right away. But she wasn't ready, so we waited." He tore a slice of cheese in half and tossed first one bite and then another to Oxford. "Good thing we waited. Selina would have made a terrible mother. She was too selfish and spoiled to have ever put the needs of a child before what she wanted."

  "Do you think I'm like that?" The question popped out of her mouth before she had a chance to stop herself from being so blunt.

  Hunter looked straight at her. "I thought you were a spoiled, pampered brat when you were sixteen, but you've grown up since then. Of course, I don't think you're like Selina."

  "But you did, when you first agreed to take this assignment, didn't you? You've been comparing me to your ex-wife ever since you came back to Dearborn."

  "You're right on both counts. But I was wrong. Except for some superficial similarities, you and Selina are nothing alike."

  "I take that as a compliment."

  "It was meant as one," he said.

  "So, what are the superficial similarities?"

  Hunter chuckled. "You really want to know?"

  She nodded. "Yes, I really want to know."

  "Well, you met her at Perry and Gwen's wedding, so you know she was blond and beautiful. And she came from a rich old Virginia family. She always had a swarm of men around her, vying for her favors. Those similarities alone were enough to intrigue me the first time I met her."

  Manda's heartbeat accelerated. Had Hunter realized what he'd said, what he had admitted by his choice of words? She had to ask him, had to make sure she had understood him correctly. "Are you saying that you were first attracted to Selina because she reminded you of me?"

  As Hunter glanced away, his smile faded. "I didn't realize it at the time and even when Perry pointed it out to me, I denied it. But yeah—" his gaze reverted to Manda and met headlong with hers "—if I'm honest with myself and with you, I'll have to admit that I was attracted to Selina because I thought I'd found someone like you—only more my own age."

  "You really were attracted to me back then, when I was making a fool of myself over you. And all the time, I thought you didn't even like me, that you tolerated me only because I was Perry's silly little sister."

  Hunter chuckled. "Well, in a way, that's true. The only thing that kept me from breaking your spoiled-rotten, little neck was because you were Perry's sister. You drove me nuts. In every way a girl can drive a guy nuts."

  "You wanted me, even then, didn't you?"

  "You know I did. But hell, Manda, I couldn't take you seriously, not when you were only sixteen. I had to pretend, even to myself, that I thought of you only as a pesky brat."

  "Thank you, Hunter." She lifted the flute to her lips and sipped the wine.

  "Thanks for what?"

  "Thanks for being honest with me."

  A clap of thunder echoed in the distance and a streak of faraway lightning slashed through the sky.

  "If that rainstorm gets any closer, we'll be taking our picnic inside," Hunter said.

  "I love it out here. Maybe the rain will either go around us or wait a couple of hours."

  They ate and drank, talked and laughed, setting aside their worries for a few hours. Hunter possessed the ability to know what she needed and somehow provide it for her. After each new traumatic event, he had picked her up and carried her away to peace and sanity and safety. But they both knew they could avoid reality for only so long. Danger lurked out there, waiting for them, only a heartbeat away.

  They cleared away the remnants of their meal, using the picnic basket as their garbage pail. Hunter shook the crumbs from the quilt and folded it, then put the quilt and the basket on the back porch steps. The sunset burst across the western sky, shooting out thick billows of vibrant color, each meshing with the other. The dark clouds had moved on, taking the stormy weather farther east, completely bypassing Dearborn.

  "Want to take a walk before we head back to your place?" Hunter asked.

  "A walk sounds nice."

  She hesitated only a moment before she took his hand. Hunter whistled for Oxford and the threesome made their way through the orchard comprised of two dozen pear trees. Beyond the orchard lay what had once been cultivated farmland, but was now simply a green pasture. Hand-in-hand, they walked in silence, surrounded by nature—peaceful, yet vividly alive, just as they were.

  "We've done a good job of avoiding two important subjects," Manda said, finally ending the solitude.

  "And what two subjects would that be?"

  "What happened between us last night and what is probably going to occur sometime before our wedding."

  They stopped near the rickety fence that separated the pasture that had once been cultivated from the pasture that had once supported a small head of cattle. Hunter easily climbed over the fence, then reached out and helped Manda.

  "What happened last night was bound to happen," he said. "I want you and you want me. That seems pretty simple. As long as neither of us expects more than sex, then I don't see any reason why our friendship can't inclu
de being lovers. But that's your call, Manda."

  "I see." Her call. Take him on his terms or not at all. Friendship and sex. No love. No commitment. No forever after. What had she expected, a declaration of undying love? Of course not. But having him put the situation between them into words somehow diminished it, made it seem less than it was. But not less to him, only to her.

  "Do you agree?" Taking her hand, he began walking again.

  "I agree that we want each other, but I'll have to think about your conditions for an intimate relationship."

  "You do that."

  "No more discussion on that subject?" she asked.

  "What else is there to say?"

  "All right, then. So, on to the next subject. Our wedding is set for Saturday. Two days from now. If he's going to make an attempt on your life, then it has to be soon. Tonight. Tomorrow."

  "I know."

  Manda squeezed Hunter's hand, then stopped walking and looked at him. He turned to face her. There in the twilight shadows, they confronted the truth. The worst was yet to come. He ran his hands up her arms until he clutched her shoulders.

  "I think the hit will come tomorrow evening, either before, during or after the rehearsal dinner. With so many people around—guests, musicians, caterers, delivery-men—it would be easy for a professional to become a part of the crowd."

  "Oh, great. I'll be a nervous wreck, waiting and watching and wondering." The very thought that Hunter might be harmed made her question the sanity of their plan to capture a killer. "How can you protect yourself, if you have no idea who he is or how or when he'll strike?"

  "Believe it or not, I've been in worse situations and I've survived."

  "When you were a member of the Delta Force?"

  "Mmm-hmm. And a couple of times since I've been working for the Dundee agency."

  "Do you actually enjoy risking your life?"

  "No, I don't enjoy it. But in each case, there was a job to be done and I was trained to do it." He lifted one hand to cup her chin, tilting it so that she looked up, directly at him. "Extra Dundee agents are coming in from Atlanta. One tonight and two more tomorrow evening."