Unforgettable Bride
Auteur·e
Annette Broadrick
Lectures
17,2K
Chapitres
14
Chapter 1
Casey Carmichael pushed on the heavy door of the local saloon, forcing it open, and stepped inside, leaving the gloom of the night behind her. The unfamiliar scent of cigarette smoke swirled around her, causing her eyes to burn and her throat to tingle. She stifled a cough in an effort to remain unnoticed while she peered through the blue haze.
He had to be here somewhere in this noisy room—he just had to be. She’d already found out that he hadn’t left town, even though he’d lost the rodeo events he’d entered this week. If she hadn’t heard one of the stable hands mention his name earlier today and that this particular Texas panhandle saloon was his hangout whenever he was in town, perhaps she would never have gotten the idea to seek him out. Once the idea struck her, however, she could think of nothing else.
She was desperate, although she didn’t want him to know that. Somehow she had to convince him that what she proposed would benefit both of them. In her case, she had nothing to lose. In his case, she hoped she could make the offer sound appealing enough that he would at least consider her suggestion.
The door made a groaning, whooshing sound as it closed behind her, signaling to the occupants of the place that someone had entered the portals of their Friday night palace. Perhaps palace didn’t quite describe the place, Casey thought, glancing around the long, narrow room. The scarred, wide-planked floors and plaster walls had long ago lost any paint that might have helped them to gleam in the dim light.
Casey adjusted her Stetson, pulling it low over her eyes. Her long braid was concealed inside the hat. In the hope of at least temporarily disguising her gender, she’d worn her oldest jeans and a battered denim jacket several sizes too large for her, which she’d found in the horse barn.
From the stares she was getting, she wasn’t certain her disguise was working. Then again, maybe it was customary for the inhabitants of the bar to examine each new arrival. Since this was the first time she’d ever been in such a place, the customary social etiquette for this particular situation was a mystery to her.
Casey straightened her shoulders and deliberately scanned the room with a bored expression. Soon enough, faces turned away and conversations resumed. Casey gave a silent prayer of thanks before searching the room to locate the man she’d risked her reputation and her future to find.
She knew him only by his notoriety, plus a glimpse of a snapshot taken of him after one of his bull-riding events a few years back. Given the poor lighting and the pervasive blue haze of the room, Casey wasn’t at all certain she’d recognize him tonight. She could only hope.
The door suddenly swung open behind her, almost knocking her into a table. She hastily stepped farther into the room. A raucous group of celebrating cowboys pushed through the door, surrounding her while they boisterously discussed the rodeo.
Quickly she scanned each face, but none looked familiar. Dawdling in front of the door wasn’t getting her anywhere, she realized with a mental nudge. In as casual a manner as she could muster, Casey sauntered alongside the bar that stretched to the back of the room, her gaze darting between the row of booths on one side and the occupied barstools on the other. No one fit the description of the man she desperately sought. She would not panic.
Casey tried to recall all that she had heard about the man. He was a loner, for one thing. At least when he lost, as he had today. So he would probably be alone.
No sooner had the thought occurred to her, than Casey spotted a shadowy figure in the last booth. Alone. He had successfully discouraged others from joining him by propping his feet, encased in well-worn boots and crossed at the ankles, on the bench seat across from him.
This could very well be the man she’d been searching for. Casey swallowed hard and willed her knees not to quiver now that she had gotten this far in her quest.
She paused beside the man and waited for him to glance up at her.
He ignored her presence, his attention steadfastly fixed on the longneck bottle of beer in front of him. The brim of his hat concealed all but the lower third of his face. All she could see of the man was a well-shaped jawline, but there was something about him—his attitude, maybe?—that caused her to think she’d found the right man.
After clearing her throat, Casey asked, “Are you Bobby Metcalf?”
The man didn’t respond or move for several long seconds. Casey wondered if he’d even heard her over the noise in the place, until he finally replied without glancing up.
“Who wants to know?” His gruff voice sounded rusty.
She sat down on the edge of the seat across from him in an effort to see his face. From this angle, she was able to see high cheekbones, shadowed eyes and a nose that had been broken more than once.
“My name is Casey Carmichael. If you’re Bobby Metcalf, I need to speak to you.”
“What about?”
Although she’d spent the time driving into town rehearsing what she would say to him when she found him, now that she was here, her mind had gone blank. Casey leaned her arms on the table and peered beneath the brim of his hat in an effort to see his eyes. “Are you Bobby?”
“Maybe,” he drawled. “Who the hell are you, and what do you want?”
“Some degree of politeness would do for starters,” she snapped back before she could stop herself. She almost groaned out loud. This was not going as she had hoped it would.
He lifted his gaze from the bottle in front of him, pinning her to her seat with his cold stare. “You’re the one who came in here lookin’ for me, sugar. I’m just sittin’ back here mindin’ my own business, leavin’ everybody else alone. You might try it sometime.”
Casey could feel herself flushing. She straightened her spine and inched farther back on the bench seat. “Look,” she said quietly, “I really need your help or I wouldn’t be here. A friend once told me about you, and I—”
“What friend is that?”
“Dolores Bennett. DeeDee and I—”
“Never heard of her,” he said dismissively and picked up the bottle in front of him, draining the contents. He set the empty bottle down with one hand and signaled the waitress for another drink with the other one.
The waitress came over, cleared away the empty bottle and looked at Casey. “What can I getcha?”
Casey ordered a cola, then waited until the waitress turned away before saying, “DeeDee’s brother used to follow the circuit. He—”
“You talking about Bulldog Bennett?” he asked with a more pronounced drawl, the first sign of amusement—or any other kind of emotion—she’d heard in his voice.
“Uh, his name is Brad. I don’t know—”
“Same guy. So you know Bulldog, do you?”
“Not well. His sister and I went through school together. Their family has a ranch near Cielo.”
The waitress returned with their drinks. The man across from Casey slid some money she hadn’t noticed on the table toward the waitress and murmured, “Keep the change.”
The waitress flashed him a wide smile. “Thanks, Bobby,” she said, smoothly pocketing the money before turning away.
At least Casey now knew she was talking to the right person.
There was no way to gracefully explain why she was there, so Casey plunged into the conversation with what she considered to be the most relevant piece of information that she needed to impart.
“I’m supposed to get married next Saturday,” she said in a rush. She hadn’t meant to blurt it out quite so abruptly, but then, none of her training in manners had ever envisioned her present situation.
“Congratulations,” he replied, turning the bottle up for a long swallow without giving her another glance.
Now came the tough part. “The thing is, I can’t go through with it.”
He lowered the bottle and looked at her quizzically. “Aren’t you telling the wrong person here, sugar? It seems to me that the guy you’re supposed to be marrying would appreciate being the first to hear that particular piece of news.”
DeeDee hadn’t bothered to mention just how sarcastic Bobby Metcalf could be. Then again, Casey wasn’t certain how well DeeDee knew Bobby, either. Most of her stories about him had come from her brother. Casey could only hope that they hadn’t been exaggerated, and that he was as unconventional as his reputation made him out to be.
“Look, I know I’m not making much sense right now. But when DeeDee told me about you, she said that her brother—” Her voice faded to nothing and she cleared her throat, unable to finish what she’d been going to say because Bobby had stiffened, dropped his feet and straightened in his seat. For the first time, Casey became fully aware of just how intimidating this man could be.
She grabbed her drink and took a hasty swallow, almost choking in her hurry.
“Exactly what did Bulldog say about me?” His voice was even lower than it had been before.
“Well, he...er...well, DeeDee mentioned that...”
“Yes?”
In a rush, she said, “That you once ran off to Vegas and married someone you barely knew.”
The noise he made was a mixture of disgust and amusement. “That was a long time ago, sugar, when I was young and stupid. Hopefully I’ve gotten a little smarter over the years.” He eyed his drink thoughtfully before adding, “Then again, there was lots of room for improvement back then.” He glanced up at her again. “Why does that old news interest you?”
She cleared her throat once again and said, “What would I have to offer you to get you to marry me?”
Whatever she’d expected from Bobby Metcalf when she’d tried to imagine this conversation, she’d never once thought he’d laugh in her face. However, that was exactly what he did, embarrassing her even more.
What had she expected, anyway? They were complete strangers, after all. There was no reason for him to take her seriously. Somehow, she would have to convince him that she’d never been more serious in her life. She just wished she felt more adequate for the job at the moment.
“Now let me get this straight,” he finally said, dangling the bottle between his thumb and forefinger. “You’ve got a wedding all planned in a week’s time. Now you’re asking someone you don’t know to marry you instead? Wouldn’t it be simpler just to call off the weddin’, sugar?”
If she hadn’t already exhausted every other plan she could think of, she would have gotten up and walked out right then and there. Instead, she took another sip of her cola while she reviewed her alternatives. Convincing a stranger to marry her was by far her best option at this point. The trick would be to present her reasons in a calm, rational manner so that he would help her out.
After a lengthy pause she said, “Please let me explain so that you’ll understand my dilemma,” she began, pleased with her matter-of-fact tone. “I’ve been engaged to Steve Whitcomb for almost a year. I know how foolish this must sound to you, but I only recently realized that the only reason I agreed to marry Steve in the first place was to please my father.” Casey studied the ice cubes in her glass, hating to put into words feelings that had been apparent to her most of her life. She forced herself to meet the steady gaze across from her and said in a low voice, “Steve is everything my dad always wanted in a son, you see. I’ve always been aware of what a disappointment I was.” With a tiny shrug she said, “Who knows? Maybe I thought that if I married someone my dad liked I would win his approval a little easier. Besides, I really thought I was in love with Steve back then. He treated me as though I was someone special, as though I really mattered and was important to him.” She glanced away and gave her head a quick shake. “I actually believed him when he said he’d been waiting all his life for me.” She swallowed, remembering how easy she’d been to convince and how humiliated she’d been when she found out the truth about the man. “I found out quite by accident a few weeks ago that he’s been involved with another woman during our entire engagement. He doesn’t love me. He never loved me. He’s a lying, cheating hypocrite who—”
“Whoa now, sugar,” Bobby interjected. “I wasn’t asking for a list of your intended’s qualifications in the marriage market. Look, if you don’t want to marry him, why don’t you just call the thing off?”
“You think I haven’t tried? When I confronted Steve he laughed in my face and suggested that I talk to my father about my feelings. Unfortunately my father is convinced I’m too young to know my own mind about the kind of man I need to marry. Since he feels as though he handpicked the man who will someday take over his so-called empire, I’m supposed to accept the fact that I’m just going through the usual prewedding bridal jitters. According to my dad, I’m supposed to overlook Steve’s girlfriend. In fact, my dad was more upset that I had found out about her than he was that she existed in Steve’s life. He was actually muttering to me about how a man needed to learn discretion and that he’d have to talk to Steve about that!”
“And what does your mother have to say about it?”
“I have no idea. She left my father when I was eight years old. I’ve never heard from her since. If he treated her the way he treats me, it’s no wonder she left. According to my father, women weren’t born with a brain or any reasoning power. Therefore we need men to do all our thinking for us.”
Bobby took another long drink from his bottle. When he set it on the table he stared into her face as though trying to place her in his memory. “What did you say your name is?”
“Casey Carmichael.”
As though she had confirmed something for him he nodded, then picked up the beer bottle again. This time he drained it. “Graham Carmichael’s daughter, huh? Looks like you inherited your old man’s nerve, asking a stranger to marry you like this. What are you tryin’ to do here, cook up some little ol’ scandal to get your powerful daddy to pay more attention to you?”
She didn’t say anything for fear that she would start screaming at him. Were all men as obnoxious as the ones she’d had the misfortune of being around, or had she just managed to attract a group of them into her life as some sort of heavenly punishment? Maybe this guy wasn’t the one to help her after all. Maybe she was being a complete idiot about this. Nobody, not even her wealthy, power-hungry papa, could actually force her into marrying a man she intensely disliked.
So maybe Bobby Metcalf was doing her a real favor here. She wouldn’t want to be married, even though it would only be a legal formality, to someone this hateful.
Slowly she nodded her head. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. I’m just starved for attention, that’s all. Well, Mr. Metcalf, I’m very sorry to have bothered you. Why don’t you continue to sit there and drink yourself senseless while I just get on with my life.”
She slid across the bench seat only to discover that sometime during their friendly little chat Bobby had propped one of his booted feet back on the seat beside her, this time blocking her exit.
“How old are you, little girl?”
“What possible difference does it make? If you’ll kindly move your foot, I’ll get out of here.”
“Indulge me a little, okay? Sorry if I riled you, but you’ve gotta admit that what you’re asking is pretty bizarre. So what you’re saying is, because Bulldog told you that old story about me, you thought I’d be willing to run off and marry you, too?”
She gritted her teeth. “What I want is my freedom—from Steve, from my father, from my entire way of life. I thought if I entered into a business arrangement with someone who would be willing to help me, we’d both get what we want.”
“Exactly what is it you think I want that you can give me?” he asked, intrigued despite himself.
“I heard that you’ve been saving your money to buy a place of your own.”
“So?”
“I have money in a trust fund that will come to me once I’m married. I’m willing to split the money with you.”
“How old did you say you were?”
“I didn’t say. For your information I’m eighteen years old.”
“That old, huh? Kinda explains a lot of things. First of all, it’s not smart to go offering strangers your money. There’s no telling who might be stupid enough to take you up on it. Secondly, bribing a fellow to help you out in a bind isn’t very complimentary on your part. And third, what in the hell were you thinking of, planning to get married so young? Why would your dad encourage such a thing, anyway?”
“Steve was the one who wanted to marry as soon as I was finished with high school. I thought I’d be going on to college, despite getting married. I really thought Steve understood how much I wanted to continue my education and would agree to it. I’ve wanted to be a veterinarian as far back as I can remember. That’s all I’ve talked about for years. Now I realize that neither Steve nor my dad see any point in my going on to school and that Steve was just indulging me my dreams until after we were actually married.”
“How old is this Steve character?”
“I don’t know. Somewhere over thirty. Thirty-two, I think.”
“That ancient, is he? I hate to bust your bubble, sugar, but I’m no spring chicken, either. I’m looking real hard at that big three-oh, myself.”
“I don’t care how old you are. I was counting on the fact that once I proved to my father and to Steve that I was married to someone else and that there was no way I would ever marry Steve, then I figured you and I would have our marriage annulled and go our separate ways. When DeeDee told me about you, you seemed to be a perfect candidate.” Her tone of voice indicated that she had since reconsidered his suitability.
Bobby sighed. “My one claim to fame—impulsively marrying a stranger in Vegas. I guess that story will dog my steps for the rest of my days.”
“I wouldn’t say it was your one claim. You’re much too modest You’re also known as a world champion bull rider, calf-roper and—”
“Don’t remind me. Every morning when I crawl out of bed my body sends all kinds of signals about my foolish and misspent past.”
She eyed him with a hint of curiosity. “Are you considering taking me up on my offer?”
He smiled and shook his head. “Look, sugar, you’ve been downright entertaining, and I can’t say that I haven’t enjoyed your story, but I want no part in any of your plans. Have you ever considered that your papa may be right? That this is just prewedding jitters? It happens, you know. This Steve guy probably isn’t all that bad. What gave you the idea he’s seeing somebody else?”
“You mean besides the two-year-old he fathered with this woman? Or that he’s been laughing with all his friends about the fact he’s engaged to me, thinking I wouldn’t find out that I’ve become a joke to him? Or maybe—”
“Never mind, I get the picture. And your father doesn’t care about any of that?”
“He thinks I’m too sensitive. He said if I’m half the woman he thinks I am, I’ll be able to keep Steve’s interest at home.” Her voice registered her disgust.
“I don’t know anything about that. All I know is that I’m not willing to help you get back at your daddy and his handpicked stud.” He slid out of his seat and stood. Looking down at her, he said, “I need to get some sleep. I’m heading out early in the morning. I suggest you get on back home before somebody misses you. We’ll just pretend we never had this conversation, okay?”
Casey also stood and immediately turned away, fighting the tears that would instantly betray her to this hateful, hateful man. She strode toward the door without looking around. She didn’t wait to see if Bobby was behind her when she jerked open the door and stepped outside the saloon onto the graveled parking lot.
She blinked back the tears from her eyes and looked around the crowded lot. There were cars and trucks pulling in and leaving, and a great deal of loud talking and laughing. Casey was out of her element, and she knew it. She’d been stupid to even try this. She didn’t need Bobby Metcalf in order not to get married. She’d go back home tonight, but tomorrow she’d manage a way to leave again, this time with some of her things. She’d go to Vegas by herself and hide out for a few days. After that, she might even continue west and visit California. No one was going to force her into a marriage she didn’t want.
Casey lifted her chin. She was not going to play victim. Once Steve and her father saw that she had no intention of being present at any wedding they might have set up, they’d get the idea she couldn’t be pushed around.
She threaded her way through the crowded parking lot to where she’d left her car, which had been a high school graduation present a few weeks ago. She’d been so innocent of all the strings attached to any gift her father gave her back then. At the time she had actually felt the car was a sign that he loved her. She felt as though she’d aged a dozen years since then. Talk about some wishful thinking. She’d spent most of her life in serious denial. But no more. She was going to face facts, face reality and take charge of her life.
Starting now.
She spotted her car, and only then did she realize that her little roadster had drawn the attention of four men who were standing around it, talking, laughing and drinking from flasks. She was sick and tired of the entire male population at the moment. Casey reached into her coat pocket and grabbed her keys, gripping them tightly in her fist, then continued toward her car.
“Hey, kid,” one of the men called to her, “this your car? Or does it belong to your daddy?”
They all laughed at his stupid attempt at humor.
“It’s mine,” she replied in a flat tone from several yards away, pushing the security button on the key chain, causing the lights to flash a welcome as the doors unlocked.
The group’s mood immediately changed and she realized what she’d just done. Her disguise had worked in the ill-lighted parking lot until she spoke.
“Well, now, honey-bunch, how’s about you and me takin’ a little ride in your pretty toy car?” the apparent leader of the group asked. “I might even be talked into showing you some fancy riding of my own.”
His friends laughed and waited to see what she would say.
At the moment, she was too angry at the world in general and men in particular to be scared. So she ignored him and continued toward the car.
The loudmouthed one stepped over in front of her, blocking her path. “Did you hear me, honey? Tonight could be your lucky night.”
She looked up at him and said, “No, thanks, bubba. I think I’ll pass.” She stepped around him, and reached for the door handle.
Just as the door swung open the guy grabbed her by the arm and said, “Hey now, don’t be that way.”
Casey didn’t resist the tug on her arm, allowing the momentum to build as her body swung around. She gave a lightning-quick kick, catching him in a very vulnerable spot between the legs while at the same time letting her fist, with keys protruding from between her fingers, connect rather forcefully with his chin.
Then, for some unknown reason, World War III seemed to break out around her. All right, so maybe she shouldn’t have done it, she decided judiciously as his friends let out a roar that almost matched their friend who was currently writhing on the ground, using language that should never be spoken around a lady.
Someone else grabbed her, yelling something she couldn’t understand, this time knocking off her hat, which—for some reason or another—became the last straw in a day of losing arguments with every male she’d encountered.
She struck back, even as she heard a quiet voice from somewhere beyond the group crowding around her say, “Let her go.”
Despite the moaning and yelling that seemed to be on all sides of her, Casey recognized Bobby’s voice before she had a chance to look around.
Didn’t these guys know anything about fighting? Just because she was shorter and weighed less was no reason for them to underestimate her. The one gripping her shoulder immediately let go as soon as her knee came into contact with his oh-so-tender anatomy, while a third man stepped back to face Bobby.
“Butt out, mister. This is none of your business.”
The next man had just reached for her when his knees buckled beneath him and she saw that Bobby was standing there rubbing his knuckles. “Get in the car!” he yelled at her, which she did, fumbling to find the right key. Suddenly he was there in the doorway beside her, lifting her into the other seat as though she weighed no more than a rag doll and sliding behind the wheel, himself. Gunning the engine, he spun the car out of the parking lot, leaving several angry men yelling and running after them, shaking their fists.
“I don’t know how in the hell you managed to stay alive for eighteen whole years if you’re in the habit of pulling stupid stunts like that,” he growled, watching the rearview mirror while they sped down the road. “Do you have some kind of death wish, or something?”
“I was angry,” she replied defensively. “I’m fed up with being treated like a blasted ornament on a man’s arm, or a moron who can’t make decisions for herself. I’m tired of dealing with macho men who think just because they’re bigger and stronger they can do anything they want, while I’m supposed to be flattered by their attention. What I’m really angry about is that I’m only eighteen years old. At twenty-five I get my inheritance, married or not. You can tell my grandfather was from another century. He probably decided that if I couldn’t find a man willing to marry me by that age, then there wasn’t a man anywhere who would want me.”
Bobby drove for a while in silence, mulling over various ways he might be able to reach this agitated, obviously distressed woman. Finally he said, “I don’t think getting married is the answer, Casey.”
“Actually, neither do I,” she instantly replied, surprising him. “Unless, of course,” she went on, “it’s a marriage that is clearly understood by both parties. All I wanted from you was your signature on a marriage license. That piece of paper will give me the freedom I need from my dad’s plotting and planning with Steve, and it will give me access to the money that was left to me, so that I can go to school. I want nothing from you but your name in exchange for half my inheritance. I can’t see why you or anyone else would pass up a deal like that, but then it’s been recently proved to me rather obviously that I know absolutely nothing about men.”
“You don’t know much about me is the point I’ve been trying to make with you this evening,” Bobby pointed out with exasperation. “I could be a serial killer for all you know. Although, I have to admit from what I saw back there you may be more capable of looking after yourself than I thought, even though you’re not too good at calculating odds.”
She ignored his last statement. Instead she addressed the first. “Brad knows you. DeeDee says he’s known you for several years, ever since you went on the circuit. Even though he didn’t know why DeeDee and I were asking so many questions about you, he made it clear you could be trusted to keep your word.”
She could barely see his face in the dim light from the dash of the car, but she could have sworn he flinched at her last remark.
“I learned a little too late about keeping my word, but Brad’s right. I finally discovered how important a person’s word is.”
“It doesn’t matter now, anyway. You were right. It was a stupid idea, but at least I managed to get away from the house. I managed to convince my dad that I’m resigned to getting married to Steve. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have allowed me to leave. The more I think about it, the more I’ve decided not to risk going back.” Which meant, she thought to herself, that she would have to figure a way to buy some clothes to wear for the next few weeks.
“So where were you planning to go, before you attracted your admiring audience back there?”
“I hope you’re not trying to blame what happened back there on me!” she said, hoping to distract him from his question. She had a hunch he wouldn’t be any more impressed with her new plan than he was with her original one. “That guy had no business touching me.”
“You’re absolutely right. He didn’t. But didn’t you notice that your admirer had three rather protective friends that might take offense at your rejection of him?”
“I wasn’t thinking about them.”
“Obviously.”
“Where are we going?” she asked, glancing around at the swiftly moving landscape sliding by.
“Anywhere away from this part of town until those guys cool off. Did you know any of them?”
“Of course not! I never saw them before in my life.”
“Well, they’re certainly going to remember you and this little red car of yours.”
She slid down in her seat. “At the moment, those guys are the least of my worries.”
When he finally slowed and turned she realized that he was pulling into a truck stop. “Why are we stopping?”
He glanced around at her in irritation. “Why? Because I doubt that your car has been weaned to go on fumes, that’s why. The gas gauge is buried beneath the Empty mark.”
“Oh.”
“My God, woman. You really need a keeper, don’t you? You hadn’t noticed how much gas was left in the car?”
“My mind was on other things.”
“Like trying to find some idiot to marry you.”
“I’ve given up on that.”
“I’m glad to hear it. So what are you going to do if you don’t go back home tonight?”
“What difference does it make to you?”
“Indulge me, okay? There’s just something about the way your mind works that makes me a little nervous, that’s all. Granted, I happen to agree that you shouldn’t have to marry someone you don’t want to. I just think you’re being a little dramatic about all of this, that’s all. If you aren’t going home, then where are you going? To your friend’s place? Brad’s sister?”
“No. That’s the first place my dad would look for me.” She sighed, knowing that her newest plan wasn’t going to be favorably received by this man, either. “I’m going to Vegas by myself, stay there a few days, then maybe drive to California. I’ve always wanted to visit Los Angeles. My father will never think to look for me out of the state.”
He pulled up in front of the pumps and got out before he burst into outraged speech at this latest sign of her complete idiocy.
She jumped out on the other side and said, “Here’s my card.”
He looked at the pumps that gave an option to use a credit card, then he looked down at her card, shaking his head at the whole situation. “This belongs to your father, right?”
She frowned. “Yes. Why?”
“You don’t mind using his money even while you intend to run away from him, is that it? That’s your idea of defying him?”
“Look, I know what you’re thinking, that I’m some spoiled rich girl who has had everything she ever wanted. Everything but what I wanted most, to live my own life. My dad wouldn’t let me work, so I insisted on helping out in the stables to justify the money he gave me. Believe me, I’ve earned every penny of it.”
“Have you thought about the fact that if you use your car and card, your father can find you by reporting you as missing to the police?”
“He wouldn’t do that.”
“Hell, I would, if you belonged to me. The way your mind works, I’d be afraid you’d be out kickboxing drug smugglers or escaped convicts.”
“All right, so I won’t use my card. I’ve got cash. I’ll pay cash until I run out. I can always get more from an ATM—”
“Which your father could have checked easily enough, as well. Let’s face it, you’re in way over your head here.”
She crossed her arms. “I’m not going back home.”
He crossed his arms, mimicking her stubborn stance. “You don’t have the sense God gave a goose, girl! Don’t you have any idea how dangerous it is for a woman to travel alone? Especially to Vegas! And if you manage by some miracle to survive being mugged or raped there, you intend to visit Los Angeles?” He threw up his hands in complete disgust, then turned away. He went inside the truck stop, handed the cashier a twenty-dollar bill, then returned to the car and started the pump.
Casey had turned away and was staring out into the night.
He looked over at her, shaking his head. She was much too attractive to think she wasn’t going to be noticed and remembered, although he had to admit that she’d camouflaged herself fairly well tonight. She was tall and slender and in that getup she might have passed for a boy as long as she wore her hat. Now that her reddish-brown hair hung in a thick braid down her back, he wondered how anyone could mistake her delicate femininity for a male, regardless of how young.
He’d seen her face for the first time when she’d been standing there under the bright lights of the truck stop arguing with him about the gasoline. He’d been astonished at how young and vulnerable she’d looked. She walked with a confident stride, her voice was cool and very assured, but her face, and especially her clear, wide-set, whiskey-colored eyes, gave her away.
She was running scared. In that mood, there was no telling what damn-fool thing she’d do next.
The gasoline cut off with an audible snap. Bobby recapped the tank, hung up the hose and walked inside to get his change. He intended to have her drop him off back at the tavern to pick up his truck. Hopefully they’d been gone long enough for the crowd outside the place to disperse.
None of this was his business, after all. Just because some harebrained female happened to hear about his checkered past didn’t mean that he owed her another thought.
So why was he still thinking about her, wondering about her, fearing for her?
Because he was an idiot, that’s why.
When he walked outside he found her sitting behind the steering wheel of the car. He crawled into the passenger’s side without speaking.
“You didn’t need to pay for my gas.”
“I know.”
She handed him a twenty-dollar bill and started the car. “I’ll take you back to the bar. I assume your car is there.” She pulled out onto the highway and headed back toward town.
“My truck.”
“Whatever.”
They made the trip in silence. When she pulled into the driveway of the place, he pointed out his truck and she pulled up in front of it.
He didn’t get out right away. Instead, he sat there staring blindly out the front window of the car. Finally, he turned to her and said, “Look, I don’t want your money, but if you really think it will help you out of this mess you’re in, I’ll go to Vegas and marry you. I think you’re making a mistake, but it bothers me to think about what other ideas you’ll try to come up with. I’m not sure how much sleep I’d get wondering what you were doing while you were trying to prove how resourceful you can be.”
She turned and faced him, her eyes wide. “Do you mean it? Really?”
“Yeah, I think I do. The thing is that I want you to promise me if we do this that you’ll go on to school and get your education, and that you won’t go around offering strangers half your inheritance every time you want something from them.” He glanced at her and was dismayed to see that tears were sliding down her cheeks. “Now what?” he asked in exasperation. He hated being around crying women!
“Thank you, Bobby. I’ll never be able to thank you enough.”
“Well, you got that right. This will definitely add to the notoriety of my reputation. Now let me grab my gear and we’ll get this little show on the road. We’ve got a lot of miles to cover tonight.”
“You mean we should go now?”
“You said yourself that you weren’t going back home. As for me, I need to be on my way to Wyoming for a rodeo I’ve entered. If you need me for your groom, sugar, you’d better grab me while you can.”
Her chuckle sounded a little watery, but he could see she was trying to get ahold of herself. She glanced down at her shirt and jeans. “I wish I’d thought to bring some extra clothes with me tonight, but I guess it really doesn’t matter what I get married in.”
“We can pick up a change of clothes and something to sleep in once we get there. After driving all night I’m going to need some sleep before we head back. Besides, it will make the whole thing more convincing to your dad and fiancé if we’re there overnight.”
“That makes sense,” she said, although she was unable to disguise the sudden flush to her cheeks.
He got out of the car and strode to his truck. After grabbing his gear, he relocked it and left it where it was. This time he walked around to the driver’s side and opened the door. “This won’t be the first time I had to leave my wheels at some bar. It probably won’t be the last. The truck should be safe enough here until we get back. I’ll drive until I get sleepy, then you can take over. We’ve got some hard driving to do. Vegas is eight hundred and fifty miles from here.”
Once again she moved into the passenger seat. “How do you know that?”
“Because I travel all over this part of the country. Driving at night will help, pushing the speed limit will also help. But it’s going to be mid-morning tomorrow before we get there. You might as well sleep while you can.”
Bobby pulled out of the parking lot, switching on the radio at the same time. He needed the company of some nighttime music while he mentally beat up on himself for thinking he was being some kind of hero by helping this gal out of what sounded like a real messy situation.
As he drove west, he mentally rehearsed the various conversations he intended to have with Mr. Graham Carmichael and Mr. Steve Whitcomb when he finally got around to meeting them, for causing Casey so much pain in her young life. She deserved better, and by damn, he was determined to see that she got better treatment in the future.
