Hitched! Page 8

  “It’s too formal,” he announced. “Maxxxx-eene.” He drew it out. “No Taggart would ever call his wife Maxxx-eene.”

  A smile tugged at those full lips. “In that case, what would a Taggart call her?”

  “Max,” he announced promptly. “Does that work for you?”

  She appeared amused. “I’ve been called worse.”

  “Then Max it is.” He crawled off the bed. “How’s the shower?”

  “Limp. Not much water pressure, but I persevered.”

  He had a feeling that perseverance was probably one of her strongest suits.

  RAND CALLED Trey and Rachel after breakfast—English muffins with hard-cooked egg and plastic cheese. Not half-bad. Coffee stunk, though.

  This time Rachel answered.

  “Hi, Aunt Rachel. It’s Rand. I thought I might bring Max by to meet you later today, if that’s not inconvenient.”

  “Max?”

  “Maxine—my wife. I call her ‘Max.’” He winked at said wife. “Trey told you I’m married, right?”

  “Of course.” Her voice soared. “This is wonderful! Trey’s home, too—he doesn’t start the new picture for a couple of weeks so he’s underfoot a lot.” The warmth of her voice told him she didn’t much mind that. “The boys will be at school—that is, depending on where you’re calling from.”

  “We’re in Inglewood…Westchester—somewhere in there. We flew into LAX last night.”

  “Randall Taggart, why didn’t you come here?” She sounded hurt. “We have plenty of room. Now, you get right in your car and drive straight over, you understand?”

  “Yes, Aunt Rachel.”

  “You remember the way, don’t you?”

  “Yes, Aunt Rachel.”

  She laughed. “Randy, that’s what you always said and then you went out and did exactly what you pleased. You come on along, hear?”

  He hung up grinning. Rachel was a Texan born and bred and he purely loved her for it.

  “What did she say?” Maxine wanted to know.

  “She said to hurry.”

  “Not too fast. I need to stop off at a shopping center and pick up a few things. I only packed enough for a few days.”

  “No problem.” He glanced around the room. “All ready to go?”

  She nodded. She wore loose-fitting green knit pants this morning with a white blouse loose around her hips. Her hair, as always, was slicked back into a knot at her nape. She didn’t look bad, he decided, just…incredibly boring.

  She started for the door.

  “One more thing.” His words stopped her in her tracks. “I’m pretty sure Rachel will insist we spend the night there.”

  “You mean at their house?” She seemed alarmed.

  He nodded. “You know what that will mean.”

  The corners of her pale mouth turned down. “Then you just have to insist that we go to a motel,” she decided. “No problem.”

  He wanted to say, You sure don’t know Rachel! but instead he simply shrugged. He’d worry about that bridge when he came to it, as he surely would. At least Max was warned.

  TREY AND RACHEL and their sixteen-year-old twin boys lived on a ranch. It was reached by freeway winding through golden hills, which Max proclaimed to be brown.

  “Don’t say that in front of a Californian,” Rand warned, turning off the wide highway onto a smaller paved road. “Brown, golden—it all depends on your point of view.”

  The Smith ranch nestled among those hills, the buildings shaded by pepper trees and eucalyptus. Corrals and outbuildings surrounded the sprawling ranch house and Rand caught a flash of sunlight off the water of the swimming pool out back. Several horses switched lazily at flies from the safety of a corral. A long-horned steer, no doubt an import from the Rocking T, peered curiously over a tall barbed-wire fence as they passed.

  The spread was pretty much the way he remembered it. Rand parked between a pickup truck and a silver minivan. Turning to Max, he found her staring, openmouthed.

  She saw him looking, pulled herself together and smiled sheepishly. “I’m sorry. I’m simply overwhelmed. I’ve never seen a place like this before, but it strikes me as totally right.”

  “Yeah, I’d say it is. Trey and Rachel have lived here since just after the twins were born. They’ve traveled a lot for his work, but they always come back here. It’s home to them.”

  As the Rocking T was home to the rest of the Taggarts?

  Rand pushed that thought aside. The Rocking T had not been home to a Taggart since Thom T.’s death. Rachel’s brother, Lee, managed the place, but nobody else had indicated any undue interest in it.

  Max said in a faint voice, “I never had this kind of home. I hate to say I’m envious, but…I’m envious.”

  “Damn, Max, I think it’s about time you tell me a little more about—”

  “Randy!”

  The screen door flew open and Rachel stepped out, waving. She crossed the yard with a spring in her step, as trim as a teenager in jeans and a bright orange T-shirt. But a few wisps of gray touched the dark curls now, and a few more creases etched the corners of her hazel eyes.

  Rand stepped out of the car and she hugged him with all her might. “I’m so glad to see you!” she exclaimed. “It’s been years!”

  With a guilty start, he realized she was right about that. Holding her back, he said, “I want you to meet my wife, Aunt Rachel. This is Max. Honey—” He looked at her, and caught the flare of surprise in her eyes at the endearment, hoped his aunt hadn’t. “This is my aunt Rachel.”

  “Darlin’!” Rachel let go of Rand and hugged the considerably taller Maxine just as hard. “It was a shock when this rascal phoned to say he was married, but that doesn’t mean we weren’t happy to hear it.”

  Max returned the smile. “I was kind of shocked myself,” she said, “but you know how Rand is.” She gave him a slanted, teasing glance. “Once he gets an idea in his head, there’s no stopping him.”

  Rachel laughed uproariously. “Does she know you or what?” she challenged her nephew. “You two come on in the house and—”

  “Hold on.” Attracted by the pounding of horse’s hooves, Rand turned toward the lane leading around the house. “If I’m not mistaken, Uncle Trey’s about to make a grand entrance.”

  “Oh, Lord,” Rachel groaned. “You don’t suppose that man—”

  At that moment, a big red horse charged around the side of the house, with a tall man in the saddle. Max gasped and jumped back—just as the horse stumbled and went down, throwing the rider face-down in the dirt.

  “OH, MY GOD! He’s hurt!”

  Maxi darted forward, unable to believe what she’d just witnessed. She’d never touched a horse in her life and had never wanted to, instinctively certain they were all killers or worse.

  Now she’d been proven right. Dropping to her knees, she struggled to roll the man over onto his back.

  Whereupon she gazed into laughing blue-gray eyes in a handsome, deeply carved face.

  “You must be Maxine, the newest member of the Taggart clan,” a rich voice drawled. “I’m your uncle Trey. Glad to meet you.”

  Maxi sat down hard in the dirt, shocked speechless. Hearing laughter, she swiveled around to find Rachel and Rand convulsed with mirth. Outrage swept over her, but then she looked back down at the man on the ground and couldn’t help a sheepish smile.

  “Rand told me you were a movie stuntman,” she said, “but I thought that was only on company time.”

  Trey sat up. “Rachel won’t let me get into fights anymore, so I have to fall off a horse or down the stairs once in a while to keep my hand in,” he said. “Hope you’re not mad at my little joke, Maxine.”

  “Trey…Uncle Trey, why would a person want to make a living getting beat up and thrown off horses?”

  “Because it’s there—sorry, that’s why men climb mountains.” He stood up and dusted himself off before offering her a hand. The horse, grazing peacefully nearby, gave him a disinterested glance and
went back to cropping grass.

  A phrase she’d heard to describe an irresistible type of man leaped into Maxi’s mind: bad boy. Trey Smith must have been the baddest of the bad boys in his prime. Poor Rachel the librarian didn’t stand a chance.

  Trey cocked his head. “Now, what are you grinning at?” he inquired.

  “You,” she said. “I’m grinning at you—and I’ll never again believe anything you say or do after that little exhibition.”

  “Aw,” he said, “I was just having a little fun. There wasn’t a chance in the world of anybody getting hurt. See this?” He scuffed the toe of his boot in the soft earth. “I dug up the dirt a little to soften the fall and kept old Red down to a slow canter. In my prime, I used to bail off at a dead run into anything—rock, cactus, the sides of boxcars. I’m too old for that stuff now, but I still like doing the baby stunts.”

  “Uncle Trey,” she said, slipping an arm around a whipcord-taut waist, “I can’t imagine you’re too old for anything.”

  Together they turned toward the house and walked arm in arm past Rachel and Rand, each looking more amused than the other.

  “I can see,” Trey said to Maxi, “that you and me are gonna be great friends.”

  He let the screen door slam closed in Rand’s face.

  RAND FIGURED this was going to be a piece of cake. Max had Trey eating out of her hand in the first five minutes. He’d assumed she’d do all right. He hadn’t assumed she’d conquer with little more than a glance.

  Rachel liked her, too. Rand looked across the lunch table at the two women cleaning up the kitchen and loading the dishwasher. They chattered away like old friends.

  Trey slid his chair away from the table. “Hey, kid, let’s you and me go for a little walk.”

  “Sure.” Rand’s heart took a dip. He’d been expecting this but was hardly looking forward to it.

  He rose and followed his uncle out the back door, onto the wooden deck surrounding the swimming pool. Max and Rachel spared a single curious glance before returning to their own conversation.

  Trey walked over to a long-handled pool strainer leaning against the small utility building set unobtrusively against the back wall of the house. After returning to the edge of the free-form pool, he skimmed out a few leaves and tossed them onto the grass.

  His look was sharp and cautious. “Nice girl,” he said. “How’d you meet her?”

  “On an airplane.” They’d decided to stick as close to the truth as possible.

  “How long have you known her?”

  “Not long.” Rand stuck his hands into the pockets of his khaki trousers and rocked back on his heels. “Long enough.”

  “She doesn’t seem like your type.”

  Rand felt a flare of temper, which he tamped down. Was this a knock on Max? “Watch it, Trey. That’s my wife we’re talking about.”

  For a moment their eyes met. Then Trey nodded.

  “Good, that’s good,” he said. “Love should be blind.”

  The casual use of the word love rocked Rand. “Yeah, well—” He glowered. “What are you getting at?”

  “Your motives.” That was Trey, straightforward as always. “You’ve got to admit, this is all pretty sudden. Nobody in the family had a clue you were serious about anybody.”

  “Nobody in the family has a clue about anything I’m thinking or doing.”

  “Whose fault is that, do you suppose?” Trey ambled over to a patio table and chairs set beneath an umbrella on the edge of the deck. He sat down, then leaned back with a contemplative expression on his face. “Just seems a little funny is all. You getting married only a couple of weeks before your thirtieth birthday…”

  “You want to hear me say I’m after my inheritance from Great-grandpa?” Rand pulled out a chair and joined his uncle at the table. “Okay, I do want to fulfill the conditions of his will and take over the Rocking T. You got a problem with that?”

  “Not me. I kinda expect Boone and Jesse may, especially if they think you just want to get the money and run.” He cocked his head, his eyes narrowing. “Do you?”

  “I…I’m not sure. There’s a lot to consider. Maybe…” Hemming and hawing, but the best Rand could manage.

  “Jesse especially’s been stewing over this. That ranch means a lot to him. He doesn’t want to see it overrun by naked sun worshipers and tree huggers.”

  That brought a reluctant grin from Rand. “Neither do I. But would it be so bad if the place were in the hands of somebody who’d use it and value it the way Thom T. did?”

  “Not at all—as long as his name’s Taggart,” Trey shot back. “Or her name. Can’t afford to be sexist these days.”

  That lightened the atmosphere until Trey added, “Nobody knows where you’re coming from, Rand. Hell, nobody even knows where you are half the time. Meg’s been praying you’d find a nice girl and settle down to that productive life old Thom T. was so dead set on you leading.”

  “Then Mom should be happy to meet Max.”

  “She will be, if this is the real thing. If you’re pulling a scam…” Trey let the warning stretch out. Then he said, “What the hell. Maxine’s obviously too good for you. Maybe she won’t let you sell your heritage.”

  His heritage? That throwaway word hit Rand hard. He’d never thought of it as selling his heritage, it was simply a way to raise badly needed cash. He needed money to honor his commitments and continue the lifestyle he’d led since his twenty-first birthday. Why should anyone care what he did with the ranch? At least it wouldn’t be turned into a nudist colony.

  He had nothing to be ashamed of and yet…

  As the day wore on, he found himself withdrawing more and more into the kind of self-questioning in which he rarely indulged. When the sixteen-year-old twins came home from school, he welcomed the distraction. Thom and Tag, they were called. Fraternal instead of identical, they still resembled each other a great deal.

  It soon became apparent that they were not two peas from the same pod, however. Thom, a good-looking kid with his mom’s hazel eyes, was quarterback of his high-school football team and apparently a devil with the girls. Tag, blue-eyed and thoughtful, was the long-distance star of the local swim team, and even held the state high-school record for the mile.

  They greeted Rand like a long-lost brother, pounding on his arms and offering the usual unintelligible teenage-boy greetings. They shook Max’s hand with solemn good manners, but neither of them appeared to be very impressed.

  Rachel smiled on her offspring and ordered them to do their chores before dinner, which turned out to be a cookout beside the pool. Rand joined the boys in the water, but Max declined.

  She’d grown much quieter, for some reason. She watched the three males frolic in the crystal-blue water without expressing either approval or disapproval.

  For his part, Rand found watery horseplay just what he needed: a chance to work off some of the tension and restless energy that plagued him. When he finally launched himself onto the side of the pool to dry off before dinner, Max offered him a colorful beach towel.

  “Thanks,” he said. Noticing Rachel observing, he added a quick, “Honey.” Max was wearing the brightly colored Mexican dress he’d insisted on buying her, which pleased him. He scrubbed at his wet hair. “Sure you don’t want a quick dip?” he inquired. “It’d do you a world of good.”

  “Probably, but I’ll pass.”

  “Suit yourself.” Leaping to his feet, he dropped his towel and caught her arms when she would have turned away.

  Her startled glance flew to his face and he smiled.

  “Easy,” he said, leaning close and speaking under his breath. “We’re newlyweds, remember?”

  “Like I could forget!”

  He nuzzled her ear and was gratified by her shiver. “Trey’s got his suspicions, I’m afraid.”

  “So does Rachel, although she seemed impressed when I showed her the marriage license.” She touched his bare wet waist, the pads of her fingers pressing. “They’re
nice people.”

  “They think you’re nice, too. They’re just not sure we’re the happily married couple we purport to be.”

  “Gosh, I can’t imagine what makes them so suspicious.” Her lips twitched with suppressed humor. “What else can we do to convince them, Rand?”

  “Oh, a little of this…a little of that…” He kissed her cheek, his lips cool against her warm skin. Her mouth—that full and generous mouth, which was her best feature—was very near his own now. She didn’t pull away and he knew she wouldn’t, but if he took that kind of advantage—

  “Hey!” The roar of disapproval came from Thom. “Cut that out, Rand! There are kids present!”

  Laughing, Tag joined in. “If you guys knew what we see and hear in school, you wouldn’t listen to this big goof. They’re newlyweds, you jerk. Leave ’em alone.”

  “Make me!”

  “Think I can’t?”

  “Boys! Stop that this instant!” But Rachel didn’t sound angry, more resigned. “These steaks are just about ready. You two set the table out here, okay?”

  “Ah, Mom—”

  “Do as your mother says, kid,” Rand told the boy.

  Throughout the entire exchange, Rand and Max faced each other, almost touching. Now she smiled and stroked the side of his face. “Boys will be boys,” she said. “Shall we lend a hand?”

  The only hand he wanted to lend wouldn’t have anything to do with setting the table.

  DINNER ENDED and the boys took off to do their homework—which, judging from raised voices inside, was yet another bone of contention between them. The adults lingered at the table near the pool, sharing a bottle of good California wine…and memories.

  Except for Maxi, of course; she had to settle for the wine without the memories. Nevertheless she enjoyed the give-and-take between members of the kind of family with which she had no personal experience.

  Rand said, “Honey?” and it took her a couple of moments to realize he was speaking to her. When he had her startled attention, he asked, “Did I ever tell you about the summer I spent here with Aunt Rachel and Uncle Trey?”

  “I believe you overlooked that one,” she answered with a smile. She knew quite a lot about him, actually, but not that. She knew more than he imagined and none of it was good.