The Accidental Bride Page 22

  The wedding was truly over, she thought blindly. She had done all she could for Mamie. They were supposed to leave on their fake honeymoon within the hour anyway.

  No point in waiting to leave. Not after this.

  She didn’t want to see Walker trying to explain why he had kept all this from her.

  None of that mattered now.

  Jilly moved forward woodenly, leaving her bouquet on the chair outside the door. All she could see was the long shadowed corridor that led to the back of the resort. All she could think of was getting away before the tears began.

  She should have known better. She had been colossally stupid, breaking her oldest rule not to trust a stranger, opening her heart when she should have been asking hard, pointed questions.

  She clenched her hands, hating to see them shake. But she had her pride, and she clung to that pride now, moving down the deserted corridor like a sleepwalker caught in a horrible dream.

  Walker was a millionaire several times over, the heir to one of America’s largest fortunes. And Jilly, in all her stupidity, hadn’t had a clue. What kind of life could two people so different have together? There would be no happily ever after here.

  Jilly closed her eyes, rubbing away tears. She left the knitted veil carefully folded with a hasty note on the pastor’s desk. She took her one small suitcase from her room and hailed a cab waiting at the front of the resort.

  The driver studied her white gown in surprise. “You need a cab, ma’am?”

  “I’m meeting somebody at the airport. They got in late,” she lied. “I’m—in kind of a rush, too.”

  “There’s no need for you to go. Give me the name and I’ll pick the person up. You don’t want to leave your wedding.”

  “It’s fine.” Jilly’s voice sounded low and hollow. “They’ll wait for me. Besides…this shouldn’t take long. Not long at all. In fact, I doubt that they’ll even notice I’m gone.”

  “Hard not to notice that the bride’s gone.”

  But he drove her anyway, though he did it with a questioning look. Jilly locked her hands on her lap, trying to be calm. As they wound down the mountain in the gathering dusk, the trees seemed to blur. Now the glistening snow on the high peaks only made her feel tiny and insignificant.

  Suddenly she couldn’t wait to get back to the Oregon coast.

  To her small town and to her friends, the only place where she felt safe.

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  “YOU’RE COMPLETELY WRONG about this, Darrah. Jilly is no gold digger. I was going to tell her about all this. Then things just got out of hand. There was no time.”

  His sister, a powerful litigation attorney in Boston, rolled her eyes. “Give me a break, Walker. There’s no innocence left in the world. You’re a big boy. You should know that more than anyone. Everyone wants something.” She stepped away, drying her tears with a carefully folded handkerchief taken from her pocket.

  The linen was hand-embroidered with her initials, just like every piece of clothing in her wardrobe.

  The Hales didn’t do anything by half.

  “But I’ll clean up your mess anyway. I’ll see that she’s kept from doing any real harm, but I won’t cut her off with nothing. After all, it looks like you two were very close. I suppose she’s entitled to something after an affair like that.”

  “You still don’t get it, do you?” Walker’s voice was icy. He was glad that Jilly wasn’t here to be assaulted by his sister’s accusations. “You won’t talk to her. You won’t put out any fires. You’ll do nothing, Darrah. I’ll explain to her. And then I’ll call our father.” Not Dad. Nothing so informal. There was no love and precious little informality in the Hale household, Walker thought grimly. “You took the jet, I assume?”

  “Of course. I’m not about to stand in line for security. Besides, I couldn’t have gotten here in time without it.” Darrah Hale smoothed her red suit and then picked up her small but exquisitely expensive leather portfolio, looking every inch the powerful lawyer that she was. “I’m going to the plane now. I’ll expect to see you there in fifteen minutes.”

  “Don’t wait for me. I’ve got to take care of this first.” Walker turned abruptly, hearing a noise down the hall. Glancing outside, he saw something white on the little chair outside the door. Leaning down, he picked up a small circle of flowers.

  It was Jilly’s wedding bouquet. She had been carrying it the last time he saw her.

  He stared down the shadowed hallway. She had stood right here. She had heard every angry word. How would these accusations feel to someone who was just starting to trust him?

  “I’ll talk to you later, Darrah. I’ve got to go.”

  “Walker, I mean it. I won’t wait at the airport forever—”

  Walker didn’t look back. He broke into a trot, feeling an awful weight of guilt.

  * * *

  HE WAS FIVE MINUTES behind her every step of the way after that. He missed her at her room. He missed her at the taxi stand outside the main lodge.

  And as he stood in the darkness at the airport, he watched the lights of the small commuter plane that had just taken off.

  The attendant at the counter had remembered Jilly very well. She had been crying, though she’d tried to hide it. And the attendant was certain that the passenger had a bridal gown folded up inside a big paper bag. She definitely remembered that part. How many women carried an exquisite lace gown in a brown paper bag?

  Walker looked down at his watch and cursed in impatience. The commuter flight was headed to Denver. He knew that from her gate information. He had tried to find out her next connection in Denver—he suspected either Scottsdale or somewhere in Oregon—but the gate attendant refused to tell him anything.

  He wasn’t going to let Jilly escape like this, in pain and hating him for the things that he had never mentioned. He had to find her and make it right somehow.

  Out on the tarmac Walker saw the lights of a small plane, just as Darrah had described.

  It just might work, he thought. But first he was going to have to break a promise made the day after he had come back from Afghanistan.

  He would have to call his father and ask for a favor. He had sworn never to ask anything of the man who had wanted to profit by his son’s military career and the brave marines who had fallen in that last firefight that had nearly killed Walker.

  But there was no choice now. Walker had to find Jilly. And he was certain that his cold and devious father would make him pay dearly for his help.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  “SENATOR HALE, PLEASE.”

  “Who may I say is calling?”

  If he hadn’t been so distracted by Jilly’s flight, Walker would have smiled at the thought of his father’s face when that particular message was delivered across his big mahogany desk.

  Walker could almost picture the scene. The sun streaming through discreetly opened curtains made out of discreetly expensive silk that perfectly matched the discreetly expensive Persian rug.

  He checked his watch in growing impatience. His father would probably keep him waiting, just to teach him a lesson. It was something that Senator Frederick Hale was very skilled at doing. Power and its uses meant everything to him.

  Just as Walker expected, he was kept on hold for almost ten minutes.

  There was no important business meeting. It was simply the senator’s style.

  “Lieutenant Hale?” The voice was deep and curt. There was no sign of the illness that his sister had described. Walker wondered if Darrah was capable of that kind of lie to bring the family back together.

  He decided not. She had been too upset. As a litigator, she was a good performer, but tears were not in her usual repertoire.

  “Well, Lieutenant Hale?” his father said curtly. No informality. No son. “To what do I owe the honor of this call? Your family hasn’t heard a word from you in weeks. As I recall, the last time you and I spoke was over a year ago.”

  This was where the groveling began, Walker
thought grimly. He would have to stow the anger. He had sworn never to ask anything of his father, but now he had no choice. His father could track down Jilly a lot faster than Walker could. “We parted on bad terms. I’m sorry about that. I’d like to talk about what happened. I’d like to make plans for the future, too.”

  A chair squeaked. “The future. Has Darrah spoken with you? Is she out there in Wyoming right now?” The old man’s voice was hard with suspicion.

  “Darrah? No, I haven’t seen her. Is something wrong?” Walker played at ignorance. His father would never welcome sympathy or commiseration.

  “I see. And you’re finally ready to talk to me? So fly back here this weekend. We can discuss your political future and the future of this family. You won’t have a penny from me while you continue in this pigheaded manner, turning your back on everything that eight generations of Hales have lived and died for.”

  “I don’t want your money,” Walker said coldly. His grandfather had left him more than he needed. They both knew that. “I won’t be going into politics, either.” His father knew how to dig the knife in deep. Doing what was best for the family always meant what Frederick Hale thought was best. No one else’s opinions ever mattered to the senior senator from New Hampshire.

  “In that case, we have nothing to discuss.”

  “No. We have to talk. I’ll listen to what you have planned. But first…” Walker cleared his throat. “I have a favor to ask.”

  The chair squeaked again. Walker’s father barked out a laugh. “A favor? You’re asking this of the man that you called a cold-blooded political scavenger, the man who you said was a disgrace to the Hale name? Why in the hell should I do anything for you?”

  “Because I’m asking you to.” Walker opened and closed his hands, trying to rein in his temper. It was never easy around his father. “And because I know you’ll ask a favor of me in return. And I’m prepared to accept your terms.”

  Silence. The chair squeaked a third time. “Anything I ask? Anytime I ask, the conditions to be determined when I ask you? Are you really prepared to do that?”

  Oh, yes, Frederick Hale drove a damnable bargain. He would delight in holding this promise over Walker. It would be an excellent means of manipulation.

  And then Walker thought of Jilly, standing alone at the airline counter with an exquisite lace dress shoved inside a brown paper bag. Crying, but trying to hide it. “I agree. One favor, whenever you ask.”

  The senator chuckled, but the sound was cold and flat. As his laugh trailed off, he gave a dry, hacking cough.

  This was something new, Walker realized. For the first time his father sounded like a sick man.

  “Very well. Now what is this information you find so crucial? Are you asking about the upcoming military appropriations bill? I know every detail, of course. I suppose you’re trying to help someone in your old command. Why exactly is it that you have more loyalty to the men you served with than to the family who raised you?”

  “It’s not about appropriations. I need information on connecting flights that will be made for a passenger when she lands in Denver.”

  “Cherchez la femme. So this is about a woman. Am I permitted to know what your relationship is?”

  “I’ll explain when I’m in New Hampshire. Right now I don’t have time. So…will you help me or not?”

  “Very well. A favor from me now in exchange for a favor to be granted by you at any time, the terms of my choosing. Agreed?”

  “Agreed.” Walker said the words stiffly. His shoulder was hurting again, but it was nothing against the pain of losing Jilly.

  “Very well. What is this woman’s name?”

  “Jilly O’Hara. Her flight left Lost Creek, Wyoming fifteen minutes ago. She had a connection in Denver.” Walker rattled off the commuter flight number. “I need to know where she is headed after Denver, and her addresses in Oregon and Arizona, as well as the addresses of her friends in case I need them. Home phone numbers, too.”

  “That’s all?” Frederick Hale gave another dry laugh. “Give me their names and ten minutes. Let’s see how much juice the old man still has.”

  * * *

  THE SENATOR CALLED BACK six minutes later.

  Walker was pacing anxiously at the gate where Jilly had left. He pulled out his phone, relieved to see the New Hampshire area code. “Yes?”

  “I have the residence in Scottsdale. Also one in a town called Summer Island in coastal Oregon. Your Jilly O’Hara’s flight from Denver routed through Portland. If you hurry, you might even catch her. I’ll keep tabs on the airplane for you. I will send you those addresses next.”

  Walker felt a surge of relief. One thing he couldn’t deny, his father had a network that extended everywhere in the world. “I appreciate it.”

  “Oh, don’t thank me yet. Not until I ask my favor. Then we’ll see how thankful you are, Lieutenant Hale. You’re not walking away from this family.”

  Walker grimaced. He glanced at his watch, making his plans. The sound of his father’s little laugh stopped him.

  “One thing you might want to know. Your mysterious lady friend was carrying a wedding gown in a brown paper bag. She was also crying. What the hell is going on, Walker? Is she pregnant? Did you leave her at the altar?”

  Walker’s hands closed to fists. He fought a wave of self-loathing at the thought of Jilly crying. “No, she’s not pregnant. And I didn’t leave her at the altar. I did something much worse. I broke her heart. But I’m going to fix it, no matter what it takes.”

  * * *

  WALKER RAN DOWN THE HALL, glancing at his watch.

  It was going to be damnably tight. With his sister ready to raise a fuss when she found out what he had planned, things were going to get sticky.

  But Walker knew who to call when things got sticky: four tough marines who’d fought in Afghanistan. They would be wondering where he had gone after the wedding. And he knew they were always up for a good adventure.

  He frowned, realizing he didn’t have their current cell phone numbers. He hadn’t spoken to any of them since he’d left the hospital. But Red would track them down.

  He dialed quickly on his cell phone.

  “Walker, is that you? Jeez, what happened to Jilly? Where the heck are you?”

  “It’s a long story, Red. And I don’t figure in it too well. I have to make things right, and I have to do it fast. I need a favor.”

  “You name it, I’m all over it.”

  Walker had to smile at that, remembering his father’s cold, grudging help. Could two men ever be more different?

  “Those four hard cases at the wedding ceremony, my marine buddies from Afghanistan, are they still there?”

  “Oh, yeah. Draining the bar dry and eating their way through the buffet. You need me to get them?”

  “I’d appreciate it. Before they’re too drunk to walk without falling,” Walker said dryly.

  “Anything else I can do?”

  “Keep an eye on Mamie. Tell her that…something came up. Jilly and I had to leave early.”

  “You got it. There’s nothing wrong, is there? Someone said they saw Jilly waiting for a cab, but I told them it had to be somebody else. She just went back to her room to change, right?”

  Walker rubbed his neck. “It’s complicated, Red. I’ll explain when I can. Meanwhile, can you find my friends? I need to get moving.”

  “They’re right here. Hold on.”

  Walker heard static as the phone was passed over.

  “Lieutenant? We thought you were off on your honeymoon. Something wrong?”

  “I need your help, Cudahy. Call it a little diversionary action. Are any of you sober enough to drive right now?”

  “You bet, Lieutenant. What’s our rendezvous point?”

  Once a marine, always a marine, Walker thought with quiet pride. You didn’t forget ties and a brotherhood like those forged under fire.

  He stared out at the little jet on the tarmac. Darrah hadn’t arrived yet, t
hankfully. If his friends moved fast, they could carry off this crazy plan.

  “Ask Red for a car. Pick up Winslow, okay? Then get yourself over here to the airport double time. Park the car and call me. I’ll tell you what to do next.”

  “Roger that, Lieutenant. We’re boots to the ground. You need firepower?”

  Walker shook his head at the man’s enthusiasm. “No firepower necessary. We’re using brains today, Cudahy. I know it may be a novel experience for you four, but it’s a good time to start.”

  “Ah, jeez, Lieutenant. We can be smart when we want to be. We just don’t want to be. It’s more fun charging around and letting people think we’re idiots.” At the sharp laughter that boomed across the phone, Walker knew that the other three men had heard the comment.

  Some of his uneasiness lifted. These men were tough and smart. They would divert his sister and give him time for what he planned to do next.

  Because there was no way in hell that Jilly was going to get away from him. Not if he had to track her all the way to Tibet.

  “Okay, move out. Call me when you’re in the car with Winslow. And leave any weapons at the resort. You’re going to be entering the airport, and I don’t want any security problems.” Walker smiled coldly. “Only the problems that I make myself, that is.”

  Then he headed for the stairway that led out to the Hale family’s private jet.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  TIME SEEMED TO SHIFT and jerk, moving in a blur.

  Jilly sat stiffly in the cramped seat of the commuter plane with the brown paper bag on her lap. So far she had managed to keep from crying. She was pleased about that.

  All her thoughts were focused on getting home to Summer Island, to the friends who would offer support, with no explanation needed. The events of the day had been too much to take in. Her mind simply shut down.

  But like a hangnail that you couldn’t ignore, whenever Jilly closed her eyes she thought of Walker, tall and devastatingly handsome in his dark suit. She thought of the look in his eyes when the minister had pronounced them man and wife.