The Texas Wildcatter's Baby. Cathy Thacker Gillen
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Название: The Texas Wildcatter's Baby
Автор: Cathy Thacker Gillen
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Современные любовные романы
isbn: 9781472071194
isbn:
Flushing slightly, she told him archly, “You know what I mean.”
He sure did. He rocked forward on his toes. “How about flowers? You want a corsage or anything?”
“Certainly not!” She appeared insulted at the thought.
He lowered his face until they were nose to nose. “You’re bringing your own?”
She scoffed in disgust and stepped back in a drift of orange blossom perfume. “I’m not having any.”
Of course she wasn’t. Aware Ginger brought the D to difficult, Rand retorted, “Is everything about us—as a couple—going to be this nonsensical?”
“Ultra casual,” she corrected. “And probably.”
Rand could only imagine how their families were going to take to that. His parents didn’t necessarily want everything to be fancy, but they did expect occasions such as weddings to be incredibly special. He’d only met Ginger’s mother once—in passing—but Cordelia Rollins had struck him as the ultimate helicopter parent. And one who would definitely want a big elaborate wedding for her only daughter. Not a hasty elopement.
“All right, then,” Rand said finally, making note not to adorn his new bride with any gift of a sentimental nature. “Good to know.”
Ginger’s hands flew to her hips. “You don’t have to be so caustic.”
As if he had started it. He let his gaze drift lazily over her before returning to her beautiful, emerald eyes. “You don’t have to be so prickly,” he shot back.
Her chin lifted in that all-too-familiar way. She sized him up for a long, thoughtful moment, then stepped a little closer. “Well, maybe it’s a good thing you’re so impossible.”
He shortened the distance between them even more, until only mere inches remained, then drawled, “And why, pray tell, is that?”
“Because then it won’t be a surprise to anyone when we decide to go our separate ways a year from now.”
“Or sooner,” he allowed with a sigh, not seeing at that moment how they were going to make it one month as a married couple, much less all the way to their baby’s birth.
“So...I’ll see you Thursday?” she said finally.
He held her gaze, aware that for reasons he preferred not to examine too closely, he was looking forward to their next step every bit as much as she seemed to be openly dreading it. “At noon.”
Her mouth twitching with satisfaction, she decreed, “I’ll see you then,” and sashayed off toward her pickup without a backward glance.
Chapter Two
True to her word, Ginger showed up on the courthouse steps Thursday at noon. In worn jeans, fancy Western boots, a white, lace-trimmed knit shirt and rose-colored vest, she looked pretty as a picture. “Ready?” she asked.
“As I’ll ever be,” Rand returned, more than ready to get the formality over with, too.
They walked into the courthouse, side by side. Only to promptly discover, to their mutual dismay, that all was not as it should be, after all.
“What do you mean we can’t get married today?” Ginger lamented when they found out the justice of the peace set to conduct their ceremony was not even on the premises. “We made an appointment to get married at noon!”
“I know.” The middle-aged court clerk swept a hand over his buzz-cut hair. “And believe me, the justice is sorry, but it can’t be helped. It’s a ‘family’ thing.” Then he continued, a little lamely, “So if you all want the J.P. to marry you, you’re going to have to reschedule...”
Not about to give up that easily, Rand asked, “Is there someone else who could perform the ceremony?”
“Not today. But...” The clerk studied the calendar on the computer in front of him. “The J.P. could fit you in a week from now, at three.”
A week was too long to wait. Rand could see his bride-to-be thought so, too.
Ginger swung toward him, her body nudging his in the process. “What are we going to do?” she asked plaintively. “You told your parents you’re coming to Laramie this evening to see them.” She threw up her hands. “My mother is expecting me in San Angelo first thing tomorrow morning.”
They hadn’t told either of their families they weren’t coming alone. That news, they had figured, could wait until they arrived, announced their “elopement” and introduced their new spouse, all in one fell swoop.
Aware she was sounding a little more emotional than usual—probably due to her pregnancy—Rand felt a surge of protectiveness rush through him. He gave Ginger’s hand a brief, reassuring squeeze. “And we’ll keep those promises,” he said.
He dropped her hand and turned back to the clerk with a possible solution. “Do we have to get married in Summit County for our license to be valid?”
The beleaguered clerk perked up. “No, sir. Anywhere in the State of Texas is fine.”
Rand thanked the clerk and they left the justice of the peace’s office.
Ginger shot Rand a sidelong glance as they walked toward the exit. Their footsteps echoed on the polished marble floors. “I gather you have a plan?” she asked.
“I do.” He held the door for her, and accompanied her out into the midday heat of the spring day and down the broad limestone steps. “Even better, the place is sort of a McCabe family tradition. Which means—” he paused to give her a level look, hoping she would cooperate with him just this once “—it’ll give our union an air of authenticity we probably wouldn’t get any other way.”
Although they hadn’t talked about it, Ginger seemed to know what a hard sell their surprise elopement was going to be—for both families. Their eyes met and held once again. After a moment she took a deep breath, squared her slender shoulders and vowed softly, “Then I’m all-in.”
* * *
AT RAND’S INSISTENCE, they would leave her truck behind and take his pickup for the drive north.
At Ginger’s insistence, they phoned ahead to their destination, to make sure that Jeff-Paul Randall could marry them. The internet-certified minister slash business owner promised to be there when they arrived around five o’clock.
Relieved to have that arranged, Ginger climbed into the passenger seat of Rand’s gray hybrid pickup and settled in beside the tall, broad-shouldered Texan.
Trying not to think about the fact he would soon be her husband, at least in name only, Ginger turned her attention to the rugged scenery. The creosote flats peppered with yucca and cholla cactus gradually gave way to elevations of higher rainfall, pinyon pine and scrub oak. Oil wells, cattle ranches and the occasional wind farm abounded, but towns were few and far between as they traversed the canyons, landed on Interstate 20 and gradually left the desert prairies and majestic mountains of the Trans-Pecos behind.
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