The Adventurous Bride

by Molly Liholm

  He wondered what she was cooking up now. This time he was getting out of here without eating or drinking anything. His watch told him it was 9:30 on Tuesday. Escape was in order.

  Standing also felt okay. Walking the few feet to the door was much easier than yesterday. Turning the knob, he raised a brow in surprise as the door opened. So, for some reason, Meg Cooper was no longer keeping him captive. Did that mean she had reinforcements? Nothing would surprise him about Meg Cooper.

  Only a certifiable kook would work in a Looney Tunes place like this. He surveyed the store as he passed through it—the crystals and angels, all ridiculous nonsense. Potions and lotions filled the shelves and glass cases. Meg Cooper was flighty, irresponsible, trouble, and most important of all, she was history.

  Despite his injuries, he moved through the shop quickly and was at the door when he remembered he didn’t know how to contact Abigail Milton. As a result of his actions, she might very well be in danger. Meg would have to tell him where he could find Abigail.

  And tell him what she’d done with his gun. Where would the foolish woman have hidden it?

  The kitchen. He knew she’d keep it in the kitchen, probably in a jar of flour like the heroine had done in Witness. Damn, now he was thinking like her; he needed to get out of here, fast. Meg Cooper was dangerous to him. The bad guys he could handle. The case he could eventually crack. A woman like her was a different matter.

  Walking very quietly, he made his way toward the enticing smells emanating from the kitchen. Baking. He smelled cinnamon and his stomach growled. Too bad, but he wasn’t eating or drinking anything Megan Cooper might offer him. He’d find fast food or something later. He rather doubted that pretty Sedona had a McDonald’s anywhere on its main street—nothing so commercial and profitable for this place—but he’d eat some herbs and dried grass and whatever else they had to offer. As long as Meg’s pretty hands hadn’t touched them.

  At the kitchen door he stopped again in surprise. Meg was pouring coffee for one of the two women sitting at the kitchen table, both a few years older than Meg. Her partners in crime? As if sensing his presence, she looked up and smiled. “How nice of you to join us.” She waved him in and he found himself reluctantly entering. Now what was Meg up to?

  A lively redheaded woman turned a perceptive gaze upon him, studying him from head to foot. “Is that him?” she asked, as if he wasn’t standing in front of her.

  “Yes.” Meg smiled at him as if she’d won the lottery, her brown eyes turning all gold and soft in the morning sun.

  The red-haired one shook her finger at him. “Well, then, good luck, young man. At least you’ve got good taste. But I hope you learned your lesson. Imagine treating a fine girl like Meg like that.”

  “Would you like a muffin?” Meg teased him with a plate of warm, home-cooked muffins. He found himself reaching for one before he remembered his vow. Unfortunately, his stomach wasn’t cooperating; it grumbled loudly.

  “Michelle made them.” Meg pointed toward an athletic-looking woman in her late thirties dressed in practical safari wear. “She’s famous for them.”

  Deciding to take the risk, he took a muffin and ate it in three swallows, then found all three women staring at him. He felt like a little boy caught stealing cookies in his mother’s kitchen. “It’s good,” he assured Michelle, who only scowled at him. What was wrong with the women in this town, anyway?

  The red-haired one patted her curls and smiled flirtatiously at him. He kept a neutral expression as he looked to Meg for help. What story had she told these women about him? If he was lucky, he’d be some distant relative of hers passing through town.

  He should have known he wouldn’t be lucky.

  “So you’re Meg’s fiancé,” Michelle said accusingly, her voice hard.

  “Ex-fiancé,” Meg corrected. “He left me standing at the altar.”

  “And now you’re back to try to win Meg again, to make amends—having realized the error of your ways. This is so romantic,” the red-haired one gushed.

  “She should shoot him,” Michelle declared.

  Reflexively, he touched his wounded shoulder, but the two women didn’t notice. Meg did, her eyes narrowing slightly, and then she smiled.

  He was her ex-fiancé? He had left her at the altar? The woman was one-hundred-percent certifiably nuts. The faster he got out of the store, away from Meg, the better. As soon as she told him where he could find Abigail Milton.

  He needed Abigial to explain her suspicions. Since he’d read her confusing letter he’d managed to piece together a lot of the puzzle, but he didn’t know who Abigial thought was behind the criminal activity in Sedona. Once he discovered what Abby knew, he’d be able to uncover what Kelly’s involvement had been—and decide what to do about it. For the first time in his life, he was actually debating whether or not he would reveal what he uncovered about a criminal activity—the forgery ring in pretty, mystic Sedona.

  “Where are my manners?” Meg suddenly said. “Darling, I’d like you to meet two of my new friends, Michelle Stoneaway and Rachel Lunden. They’ve made me feel so welcome here in Sedona. Naturally, I couldn’t help but tell them all about you, about us.”

  Naturally. He stepped forward to shake hands with Rachel, who fluttered her eyelashes at him. Michelle practically broke his hand. “Meg never told us your name.”

  Meg turned a curious face toward him, waiting. “Smith,” he said, and she made a little moue of disappointment. “Adam Smith.” He ate another muffin as the women waited for him to say something else. He wasn’t going to help Meg with her crazy story.

  “Imagine arriving out of the blue like this, determined to win back Meg’s hand.” Rachel fluttered. “This is so romantic.”

  “He hasn’t won me back,” Meg countered. “Adam has merely realized the error of his ways. He’s come crawling back to make amends.”

  Adam tried to maintain a bland expression as he reached for another muffin. Michelle glared at him and then turned to Meg.

  “Men! What else can you expect? Take my advice, girl, turn him down. He’s an attractive specimen, I admit, but the best thing he ever did for you was not marry you. Soon you’d find yourself tied down with children while he’s gallivanting around.” Michelle nodded at her own words. “Marriage is only a trap for women. That’s why I’ve remained single and intend to remain so.”

  “Not if Jason has anything to say about it,” Rachel teased her friend.

  “Waiting for any man to arrive and make your life better is just a silly dream.”

  “Michelle, you’re being too harsh. And you have to admit Adam has a certain appeal,” Meg insisted.

  “I’m not blind, girl. I’ll admit he has great shoulders and other... attributes, but don’t be fooled by his masculine appeal. Take him to bed if you like, but don’t marry him!”

  Before Adam could get out any kind of response to Michelle’s blatant sexism, Rachel clapped her hands together in excitement. “This is going to be so interesting. I thought you were going to marry Reid Logan.”

  Meg choked on her cup of coffee. “Reid and I haven’t even gone on a date!” she protested.

  “Oh, dating is overrated,” Rachel insisted. “I’ve seen the way he looks at you, and how you’ve looked at him. Why, I’d assumed that you were lovers already. Oh my—” she slapped her hands over her mouth “—I shouldn’t have said that in front of him.”

  “That’s quite all right, Rachel. Adam gave up his right to be jealous a year and a half ago. But you’re wrong about Reid and me.”

  Michelle stood and glared at Adam one last time. He was beginning to think it was the only facial expression she was capable of. Then she turned to her friend. “Rachel, I think we’ve disturbed these two long enough. We should leave them alone to discuss their situation. Remember, Meg, you’re better off alone. You!” was all she said to Adam, but it spoke volumes. He was overwhelmed by the urge to assure Rachel that Meg was safe from him, but restrained himself.


  Only now he was even more caught up in the crazy life of Megan Cooper. He’d known she was trouble and should have just made for the front door when he’d had the chance. Someday he’d listen to his head when it came to women like Meg.

  Just as soon as she told him where he could find Abby—and told him anything she might know about Kelly—he was going to get away from her.

  Meg only smiled at the two women and walked them to the door. Adam thought about making his telephone call to his boss from her kitchen phone, but decided he’d rather get as far away from Meg Cooper as possible. But first he needed his gun.

  “Smith? Adam Smith was the best name you could make up?” Meg demanded as she walked across the kitchen, picking up the mugs and loading the dishwasher. Adam couldn’t help but admire her backside in the tight jeans, or when she turned around, her breasts clad by the black T-shirt. Meg had a lot of nice curves for a man to discover. But he wasn’t going to do any discovering. Let Reid Logan do that.

  “Who’s Reid?” he found himself asking.

  “A local rancher. His sister Gloria comes into the shop a lot. Adam Smith? You sure don’t have a lot of imagination, do you? I always thought whoever I ended up with would.”

  Ignoring her last words, he merely said, “Adam Smith is my name.”

  “Then why did you use John Smith last night?”

  “Revenge. I knew the obvious alias would annoy you.”

  “Oh.” Meg frowned at him in confusion. “But I haven’t done anything to you. I saved your life.” Her brown eyes flashed at him as she raised her chin.

  He couldn’t believe her. “You drugged me twice.”

  “It was for your own good.”

  “Now you sound like my mother.”

  “Ouch. There’s no need to be mean.” Meg turned away from him and busied herself at the sink for a minute. Adam didn’t say anything, knowing she wouldn’t be able to remain silent for long.

  “So what do we do now?” Meg inquired.

  “We’re not doing anything. I’m going to get my gun and then leave. The farther away from you I am, the better I’ll be.” He’d never spoken truer words. Maybe he should head back to New York and rethink his case from there. His escape from this crazy situation, however, wouldn’t help Kelly.

  “Now you’re being unfair.” Meg crossed her arms and leaned against the kitchen counter. “If you’re going to be rude and arrogant, I’m not going to tell you where I hid your gun.”

  Adam smiled with real pleasure for the first time in days. “You don’t need to tell me.” He looked around the kitchen, and then moved Meg aside to uncover the canisters she’d been screening with her body. He reached for the flour jar and heard Meg gasp. Digging through its contents, he felt the heavy metal of his revolver.

  “How did you know it was in the flour jar?”

  “I watch movies, too. Witness with Harrison Ford and Kelly McGinness.”

  “Oh.” Surprisingly, Meg sounded happy. “You see, we are meant to be together. We have so much in common,” she added enthusiastically.

  He had to watch his step around her. She would be more trouble for him than the case, Kelly and the men who had ambushed him combined. “Correction. We have nothing in common.” He checked the compartments, glad that Meg had had the good sense to wrap the gun in a plastic bag before burying it in the flour. He turned to her with satisfaction. “And now that I have my gun, I’m out of here.”

  Meg looked shocked. “You can’t just leave.”

  “Watch me.”

  “But—but,” Meg spluttered, “what about your cover? You are planning to stay in Sedona until Abby returns. I’ve given you a reason to stay.”

  Meg had given him a cover story. Plus, he needed to talk to Abby. Because of how...itchy Meg made him feel, he’d forgotten about Abby. “When will she be back?”

  “Who knows?” Meg waved airily, not meeting his eyes. “Abby comes and goes as the spirits move her.”

  “Another one of those.” He turned on her. “Why did you make up that crazy story about me being your ex-fiancé?”

  Meg didn’t look at him, but played with a strand of her soft, shiny hair. “It was the first thing I could think of.”

  “A fiancé who stood you up at the altar? One who’s come crawling back?”

  Meg sighed enthusiastically. “I’ll admit the last part was wishful thinking, but the best lies are ones based in fact.” She raised her gaze to his and he saw the sadness on her face. “A number of residents know my pathetic story. That my fiancé backed out of the wedding just as I was about to walk down the aisle. As I never mentioned my former fiancé’s name or said much about him, no matter who you are, you could be him.”

  Adam felt another small part of reality leave him as he sank deeper and deeper into Meg’s crazy world. Her former fiancé should be thankful for his lucky escape. The man had probably woken up in the morning and finally realized what he was getting into. Even so, Adam couldn’t help but experience a little twinge of sympathy for Meg. “He left you at the altar?”

  “Not quite so dramatic. I exaggerate a little when I tell the story. People rather enjoy my tale of being an abandoned bride who’s looking for adventure.” She smiled oddly when she said the word adventure. “The truth is that Max told me before the ceremony. He married one of the bridesmaids instead.”

  “The bastard.” Adam couldn’t help it, he felt bad for her. His divorce had been an unpleasant experience—one he planned never to repeat—but by the time his wife and he agreed to separate, their love had been dead for a long time. He didn’t know if he could have faced having the person he loved, the woman he intended to marry, tell him only hours before the wedding that she was in love with someone else.

  Meg shrugged. “My thoughts exactly. That’s when I left New York. I realized I’d been planning to marry Max for all the wrong reasons. So I went searching for adventure.”

  All his sympathy died. Now she sounded like his sister, Kelly. Or his ex-wife, Allison. Why was he always attracted to women like that? “Adventure? There’s no such thing.”

  “Yes, there is!” Meg smiled brightly at him. “After fourteen months I was beginning to doubt it myself, which is why I had just decided to go back home, when you rushed in through my door. You’re my adventure, Adam Smith... or whatever your name is.”

  When Meg stepped toward him, Adam moved back. He’d been down this road before and knew it only led to trouble. He had to remember Allison.

  Meg stepped closer, still smiling, still smelling like roses, and Adam grew angry. The woman was nothing but a complete little idiot. “I am no one’s adventure. Your fiance probably realized what a mistake he was making and corrected it in time.”

  Meg sucked in her breath in hurt, but she took another step forward. “Max and I weren’t in love. Not really, deeply in love like he was with Emma. Eight years apart didn’t change how they felt about each other. It doesn’t when you’re really in love with someone.” She came even closer and then cocked her head to one side. “Have you ever been in love like that?”

  “Once. Or rather I thought I was.” Why was he telling Meg this? He never talked about his marriage. “Turned out Allison was exactly like the rest of my family. She always needed rescuing. After a while I got tired of it.”

  “And that was the end of your marriage?”

  “Yes.”

  “How long did it last?”

  “Four years.”

  “That’s not so bad. You gave it a really good effort. I like that in a man.” She smiled at him and raised her hand as if she was about to touch him, but then stopped. “So you think I’m like Allison.”

  “Yes.” Why had he wanted her to touch him?

  “Was she pretty?”

  “Yes.”

  “Do you think I’m pretty?”

  “Yes, but that has nothing to do with it. Not every pretty woman reminds me of Allison.” He felt his blood pressure rising and knew he had to get away from Meg Cooper as quickly as he p
ossibly could. Now he wanted to touch her. He wanted to see if the color would rise in her cheeks when he stroked her impossibly soft skin.

  “Then it’s my mind and personality?” Meg was practically on top of him. He felt a bead of sweat trickle down his back.

  “Exactly. Allison was flighty, irresponsible, careless, impetuous, unreliable, emotional—”

  “Stop.” Meg held up her hand to halt the flow of adjectives. “No one has ever described me like that. Usually they think I’m very restrained. A bit of a daydreamer, but also very practical. I like it.” She smiled, her brown eyes sparkling with those gold flecks. “Are you involved with someone else?”

  “No.” Adam tried to get a grip on when he’d lost track of this conversation, but couldn’t.

  “Excellent. I’m not either, so we have a chance.”

  Adam was afraid he’d stepped into quicksand, but he tried anyway. “Lady, you’re not listening to me. We are not spending any more time together. I am leaving. Now. I’ll find Abby by myself.” He took Meg by the shoulders and moved her away from him. Then he crossed the kitchen, heading toward the back door and freedom.

  Meg called after him. “But your cover as my former fiancé is a good one. Michelle and Rachel are busy spreading the gossip about you even as we’ve been standing here. Everyone in town will know about you. No one will be suspicious. So you can do whatever it is you came here to do.”

  Meg’s words stopped him at the door. She was right.

  “Why are you here?” Meg asked, when he didn’t respond to her crazy suggestion.

  “None of your business.” The little that Adam had put together he wasn’t going to tell her. His sister was depending upon him. But he was having to reconsider Meg’s advice. The cover she’d created for him was a good one. The town would be so busy gossiping over the circumstances of his arrival, of him having left Meg at the altar and trying to win her back, that they wouldn’t be suspicious. In fact, he could ask a lot of questions under the guise of wanting to know what drew Meg to Sedona.

  “Okay,” he said. “You have a point. I’ll be your ex-fiancé.” He felt like he’d just uttered his own death sentence. “Where did we almost marry?”