Hitched!. Ruth Dale Jean
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his forehead and lowered the jack. As if sensing imminent departure, Maxine turned from the sea.
Rand caught his breath. For just an instant she stood there framed against a pristine blue sky. Tendrils of hair blew around her face and the dowdy dress molded a figure he’d never imagined. Just for that moment, she looked…fantastic.
But then she walked toward him and it was the same old Maxine who asked, “Are we ready to go?”
He blinked, figuring he was in worse shape than he’d realized if he saw something that couldn’t possibly be there. “Yeah. Get in.”
When everyone was aboard, the driver ground the gearshift into first and once more they were under way.
Maxine said suddenly, “What if the bus driver keeled over with a heart attack or decided he’d had enough of this nonsense? Do you know how to drive a standard transmission?”
“Maxine, don’t we have enough to worry about without that?”
“Just answer the question.”
“Yes, I know how to drive a standard transmission. My great-grandpa taught me out in the pasture in the middle of a bunch of longhorns.”
“That’s a relief. The way things are going…” She relaxed back against the tattered seat cover. “Is that the same great-grandpa with the kooky will?”
“The very same.”
“He must have been a real character,” she said. “If you want that inheritance so much, I’m surprised you don’t just get married.”
“You think that’s so easy?” he shot back.
She shrugged. “Piece of cake. I’ll bet you’ve got girls lusting after you from coast to coast.”
“Aren’t you funny.” He gave her a disapproving glance.
“I notice you don’t deny it.”
“Would it do any good?”
“Probably not.” She folded her hands primly in her lap. “Maybe there’s one special girlfriend and you’d marry her, but she’s…I don’t know, unavailable or something.”
“Why wouldn’t she be available?”
“Lots of reasons. She could be out of the country. Or…in jail?”
Rand laughed incredulously. “You’ve got the damnedest imagination of any woman I’ve ever met. Do I look like the kind of guy who’d hang with some babe who’d get thrown into jail? I don’t think so.”
“I didn’t mean to insult you,” she said stiffly. “If you don’t really care that much about your inheritance, I don’t suppose—”
“I do care. I care a helluva lot. But I can’t go waltzing in with some bimbo and expect my family to fall into line.” He grimaced.
“I don’t care for the word bimbo,” she said. “Just what does it cover?”
“You want a definition? It means…Okay, how about this. A bimbo is a woman who goes to bed with a guy on the first date.”
“You mean like me?”
He was so shocked he nearly choked. “You didn’t—” But she had. She’d gone to bed with him and lain next to him all night, even though they were both fully clothed and wrapped in individual blanket cocoons.
Embarrassed, he tried to turn aside her wrath. “Lighten up, Maxine. Don’t take it personal.” Uncomfortably aware that he’d blasted her pretty good without meaning to, he added, “You know what you are.”
“Yes, but you don’t.” She sounded completely exasperated. “Inside, I could be…Madonna.” She glared at him.
“Maybe so, but outside, where the rest of the world can see it, you’re…you’re…”
“I’m what, Rand Taggart?”
“You’re…” Inspiration hit him right between the eyes. “You’re not a bimbo. In fact, you’re just the kind of woman I need to get my family to approve my inheritance.”
CHAPTER THREE
“I’M WHAT?”
“Take it easy, Maxine. You’re just the kind of woman I need to get my family to—”
“I heard that part. What I want to know is what you meant.”
“Just that you’re smart,” he said quickly, wondering why she didn’t calm down. “Did we work great together to foil those hijackers or what?”
“Yes, well—”
“And you’re serious. I mean, you’re a serious person. You work for a living.”
“You don’t. Does that mean you’re not a serious person?”
That stung. “I’m getting serious, okay? It’s just a little case of arrested development.”
“Oh, really.”
Despite her scorn, the idea uttered in jest was seeping deeper into his consciousness. Maxine was an ideal candidate for a make-believe bride. Surely he could get her to see that.
The bus rattled on down the road. After another ten miles or so she said, “I can’t imagine you’re talking about a real marriage.”
“No way.” He shuddered. “I could just call my folks and tell them I’m married, let them speak to you, you back me up. Voilà! Inheritance released.”
“Voilà! You’ve got to be joking. They’d fall for that?”
“I don’t know. I never tried to scam my own family before.”
“But you have scammed others?”
“I didn’t say that.” He gave her an annoyed glance. “Hell, at this point, anything’s worth a shot.”
“Desperate times…”
“You got that right.”
The bus passed the turnoff to Ensenada. Eventually a highway sign indicated that Tijuana was just up the road.
She said, as if curiosity had gotten the best of her, “So give me details.”
“No details. I’ll just tell my mom I’m married. In a perfect world, she’ll swoon with delight and declare the terms of the will fulfilled.”
Maxine looked pained. “Rand, that will never work.”
“I can at least feel her out on the subject.” Traffic was increasing, cutting into his concentration. The old junker of a bus rumbled from lane to lane, the driver ignoring the indignant honking of many horns.
Maxine shook her head. “That’s crazy.”
“Not as crazy as letting a multimillion-dollar inheritance slip through my fingers without even taking a shot at it. What’s the worst thing that can happen? Even if they turn me down, I’ll be no worse off than I am now.”
She pursed her lips disapprovingly. “Why did you wait until the last minute to do this?”
Her question produced silence. He couldn’t tell her that he’d never expected to need the Rocking T.
Finally he said, “Something…happened. I don’t have access to the majority of my funds at the moment, plus the time just got away from me. Now I’m at the point where I’ve got to do something even if I do it wrong.”
“I see.” Strangely enough, she looked as if she really did.
Another long silence ensued and then he said, “It wouldn’t hurt you to help me out a little here.”
“Probably not.”