Everyone had tried to talk her out of the wedding, urging a postponement because of her distraught state, but she was determined to put some closure on her past life with Rafe.
It was the only way.
The minister was halfway through the ceremony when he got to the part, “Does anyone know just cause why this marriage should not take place?”
“I do,” a husky voice boomed from the back of the church.
Her heart dropped to her toes. Oh, no! He wouldn’t.
She turned.
He would.
“Holy Hell!” Elliott said at her side. She had to agree when she turned.
The minister frowned his disapproval at Elliott’s swearing in church, then cried out. “You can’t bring horses in here.”
“Are those real guns?” Elliott’s eight-year-old nephew, Darren, exclaimed. “Wow! This wedding is cool!”
“Oh, my God! I think that’s Antonio Banderas back there. Hurry! Get the camera,” Helen’s cousin Mary Kay gushed.
“He looks like a Mexican desperado,” her Aunt Irene said, almost swooning with shock.
“Damned if he didn’t do it,” her father said admiringly.
She shot her father an inquiring, suspicious glare.
Rafe did look like a desperado. And so did his brothers, Antonio and Eduardo and Ramon, all dressed in nineteenth-century clothing, with ammunition belts crossed over their chests, revolvers in their hip holsters, and sexy, wide-brimmed hats tilted cockily over their faces. And, unbelievably, all riding horses up the aisle of the church.
“Young man, what’s the meaning of this?” the minister shouted. “What reason do you have for disrupting this marriage?”
“She’s my wife.”
“Wh-what?” the minister stammered, and everyone in the church gasped.
Her father gazed at Rafe oddly. “Is this true?”
“Absolutely.” Rafe held out a piece of parchment for her father to peruse. His thumb was probably planted over the date.
Her father turned on her then. “Helen?”
“Oh, Daddy, it’s not legal. Yes, we were married, but — ”
She had no opportunity to finish, because Rafe leaned down and swooped her up into the saddle in front of him, imprisoning her with his arms.
“You can’t do this.” Elliott rushed forward.
Antonio aimed a revolver at Elliott, muttering, “I could lose my job for this, Rafe. You owe me big time.”
Elliott backed away. “Helen, I’ll call the police. Don’t worry.”
“No, don’t call the police,” she told him in a panic. “I’ll straighten this out.” Then, she raised pleading eyes to her father. “Daddy?”
He nodded at her silent supplication. “We won’t do anything until we hear from you.”
Rafe ordered Tony, Eddie, and Ramon to stay behind and hold everyone off until they escaped. Then his horse galloped out of the church and down the steps. Some spectators were standing outside — wedding groupies. One of them said, “I’ve heard of some weird marriages before, but this one takes the cake!”
Helen kicked and squirmed and demanded that Rafe put her down. “Let me go,” she shrieked.
“Not on your life, babe.” He laughed, then groaned as she elbowed him in the ribs.
He rode the horse only to the end of the church parking lot, where he quickly dismounted with her. To her outrage, he tied her up with rope and gagged her before shoving her in the back of a Jeep Cherokee. She was going to kill him for this.
She heard Rafe talk to Tony then. Apparently, Eddie and Ramon were still in the church. Rafe told Tony to return the horses and go reassure General Prescott.
Just before he left, she heard Tony say, “Well, big brother, the oars are in the water, and you’re headed upstream. Let’s see if you sink or float.”
Rafe said something about being an Olympic-class swimmer.
Then they were off.
Rafe drove for more than an hour, carrying on a continuous one-way conversation with her.
“Don’t be mad, Helen. This was the only way.”
Imgfhh!
“I love you, honey. We’ll work everything out.”
Yrrflift!
“My mother says I’ll go to hell if I don’t marry you, and I know you wouldn’t want that.”
Flckye!
And most outrageous, “Do you have to pee? I hear pregnant women have to pee a lot. I’ll stop along the highway if you want.”