Honey Moon (31 page)

The choir of angels burst into a chorus of alleluias. "You mean it?" she breathed softly. "We're really getting married?"

"What do you suggest as an alternative? Did you want to have an
affair?
" He spit out the word as if it were a particularly loathsome obscenity. "Did you want to
live together?
"

"Everybody else does it," she said tentatively, trying to understand his mood.

He looked completely disgusted with her. "Is that all the value you put on yourself? I'll tell you one thing, little girl. I've been low in my life, but I've never been so low that I didn't marry a woman I loved."

He loved her! The knowledge radiated inside her like a sunburst. She no longer cared about his bad mood or anything else. He had said that he loved her, and she was going to be his wife. She wanted to throw herself into his arms, but there was something so forbidding about him that she didn't quite have the nerve.

He didn't speak again until they arrived at her house. "I'll give you ten minutes to get rid of all those fancy clothes and pack some jeans and boots. We'll spend the night at the ranch and then set out first thing tomorrow morning. It'll get cold at night, so bring a set of long underwear. And you're going to need your birth certificate."

Birth certificate! They really were going to do it. Giving a little whoop of happiness, she reached across the car to hug him, then raced into the house to do as he had directed.

None of her family seemed to have noticed that she'd been gone. She packed quickly and told Chantal she wouldn't be home for a few days. Chantal wasn't curious enough to ask for an explanation, and Honey didn't give one. Part of her still couldn't believe that Dash Coogan was really going to marry her, and until it had happened, she didn't want to jinx herself by telling anybody.

He was drumming his fingers impatiently on the steering wheel when she returned to the car. "You didn't have to wait out here," she said as she climbed in. "You could have come inside."

"Not with that bunch of cannibals."

She decided there would be time enough to sort out his opinion of her family after they were married,

but she couldn't as easily dismiss something he had said earlier. As the car shot onto the Ventura, a small chill clouded her happiness.

"Dash? What you said earlier about always marrying the women you loved. I don't want to be loved the same way you loved your other wives. I want—I want it to be forever."

He glared at the freeway in front of him. "That just goes to show what you know."

18

They were married the next afternoon in Mexicali, just across the border. The ceremony took place in some sort of government office—Honey wasn't certain what kind since she couldn't read the Spanish signs and Dash still wasn't being communicative. Both of them were wearing jeans. She held a bouquet of flowers he had bought from a street vendor outside, and her ring was a plain gold band from a nearby jewelry shop.

The walls were thin and a radio blared Spanish rock songs from the next office.

The official who married them had a gold tooth and smelled like cloves. As the ceremony ended, Dash grabbed the copy of their marriage certificate and dragged her outside, all without kissing her.

The warm afternoon air was fetid from the stench of the irrigation canals and fertilizer spray, but she breathed it in joyously. She was Mrs. Dash Coogan.

Honey Jane Moon Coogan. She was finally part of someone else.

He pulled her toward his jeep, which was parked at the curb and filled with their camping gear. She knew from past discussions that the vehicle had been specially modified to handle the rough terrain of the wilderness camping he enjoyed. As he drove into one of the government-owned Pentex gas stations to fill the thirty-gallon tank, she remembered all the times he'd set out on one of these camping trips without her and how she had dreamed of going along. Now she was doing it in a way she had never imagined.

They headed west from Mexicali on Highway 2. Heat waves rose off the pavement, and litter blew across the highway. Abandoned tire treads lay at the side of the road like dead alligators, and tired old billboards scarred the bleak landscape. A truck filled with field workers blasted by, its horn squalling.

Honey stuck her hand out the open window and waved at them gaily.

"Do you want to get your arm ripped off?" Dash snarled. "Just keep those hands inside."

Having the marriage ceremony behind them obviously hadn't improved his mood. She told herself that sooner or later he would let her know what was eating at him, but until then she was going to hold her tongue.

She had visited Tijuana several times with Gordon and Chantal, but this part of Baja was new to her.

The land was parched and forbidding, a gnarled finger poking into the sea.

Several miles west of Mexicali, the highway crossed the top of Laguna Salada, a wide, dry lake bed that extended as far as she could see. Its surface was marked with tire tracks from jeeps and ATVs.

As she stared at the dry moonscape of the lake bed, her eyes began to feel heavy. They had arrived at the ranch just after dark and eaten a silent meal.

Afterward, he had brusquely directed her to one of the guest rooms, where she had tossed all night, unable to sleep because she was afraid he would change his mind by morning. She glanced down at the gold circlet on her finger and tried to absorb the fact that they were truly married.

Her shoulder banged against his as he abandoned the highway and began heading across the dry lake bed. "We're camping for the night in one of the palm canyons," he said brusquely. "It's not too accessible, so the developers haven't gotten hold of it yet."

"Not too accessible" proved to be an understatement. The gears of the jeep ground painfully when the small vehicle finally cleared the lake bed and assaulted the steep, rocky slopes that rose off its western edge. For an hour they followed a road that was little more than a rutted track, jolting and jarring her until she felt bruised. Finally, it passed through a narrow cleft in the rocks into a tiny palm-shaded canyon.

Granite walls, wild and rugged, rose high on the sides. She saw the twisted silvery limbs of elephant trees interspersed with palm and tamarisk. As Dash stopped the jeep, Honey heard the sound of running water. He climbed out and disappeared into the trees. She got out herself, stretched her limbs, and looked around for the source of the sound. Behind her, a small waterfall tumbled in a lacy silver mist from the harsh cliff face.

Dash came out of the trees, zipping his pants as he walked. Honey quickly looked away, both embarrassed and fascinated by this intimacy that was exactly the sort of thing she had always imagined

a man would do in front of his wife.

He nodded toward the waterfall as he began unloading the jeep. "These canyons are one of the few

places with fresh water in all of Baja. There's even a hot springs. Most of the peninsula is dry as dust,

and water's a lot more precious than gold. Grab those tent poles."

She did as he told her, but as she was pulling the poles from the back, she caught the end of the longest one on the jeep's frame and they all clattered to the ground.

"Damn it, Honey, watch what you're doing."

"Sorry."

"I don't want to have to spend this entire trip cleaning up your messes."

She bent down to retrieve the poles.

"And do you mind telling me why you're wearing those sandals? I distinctly remember telling you to bring boots."

"I did," she said. "They're with my clothes."

"What good are they going to do with your clothes if we're in the middle of the desert and you run into

a rattler?"

"We're not in the middle of the desert," she pointed out as she rose to her feet with the tent poles clutched in her arms.

"You've been spoiling for a fight ever since yesterday, haven't you?"

She stared at him, unable to believe his gall. He was the one who'd been acting as if he'd sat on a porcupine.

He poked the front brim of his Stetson back with his thumb, his expression belligerent. "We might as well set down a few rules right now. That is if you're not too busy dropping things to listen."

"I've never been camping before," she said stiffly. "I don't know anything about it."

"I'm not talking about camping. I'm talking about the two of us." He advanced on her until only a few feet separated them. "First off. I'm the boss. I'm set in my ways and I don't have any intention of changing a single one of them.

You're going to have to do a lot more accommodating than me, and I don't want to hear any bitching about it. Understood?"

He didn't wait for her response, which was a good thing.

"I don't concern myself with housework. Expressions like 'splitting the work load' aren't even part of my vocabulary. I don't run a washing machine; I don't worry about whether there's coffee in the cupboard. We hire somebody to do that or you take care of it. Either way." His eyes narrowed. "And that parasite family of yours. If you want to keep supporting them that's your business, but I'm not giving them a penny, and they're not coming within ten miles of the ranch. Is that understood?"

He sounded as if he were giving her terms for parole.

"And another thing." His scowl grew blacker. "Those birth control pills I saw in your case. From now on they're one of your basic food groups, little girl. I already ruined one set of children, and I don't have any intention of ruining another."

"Dash?"

"What?"

She set the tent poles on the ground, then looked up at him, trying to keep her gaze steady. "I've been doing my best not to lose my temper with you, but you've pushed me right to the edge. You know that, don't you?"

"I've barely got started."

"Now that's where you're wrong. You're all done."

His jaw jutted forward. "Is that so?"

"It's so. I never used to be much of a crybaby, Dash Coogan, but since I fell in love with you, I've done more than my share. And I'm warning you right now that you're upsetting me, which means I'll probably start crying pretty soon. I'm not proud of it—as a matter of fact, I'm ashamed —but that won't change the outcome. So if you don't want to spend the rest of this sorry excuse for a honeymoon with a crying wife, I suggest you start acting like the gentleman I know you can be."

His head dipped. He kicked at the ground with the toe of his boot. When he spoke, his voice was soft, a bit hoarse. "Honey, I've never been faithful to a woman in my life."

A spike of pain drove right through her.

He gazed at her, his eyes unhappy. "When I think about my track record and all these years we've got stretching between us, not to mention the fact that we're going to put an end to two careers, I can't believe I'm doing this. It doesn't matter so much about me, but I can't stand the idea of hurting you. I know I must be crazy, Honey, but I don't seem to be able to help myself when it comes to you."

All of her resentment faded, and she was filled with tenderness. "I think I'm a little crazy, too. I love you so much I can hardly stand it."

He pulled her against his chest. "I know you do. And I love you even more.

That's why there's no excuse for what I've done."

"Please, Dash, don't talk like that."

He stroked her hair. "You got under my skin when I wasn't even looking, just like a chigger. Everything would have been all right if you hadn't grown up on me, but all of a sudden you weren't a kid anymore, and no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't make you turn back into one."

For a long time the only sound was the rush of the waterfall behind them.

* * *

By the time they had set up camp, the sky had clouded over and a chilly drizzle had plunged the temperature down into the forties. Honey was cold, wet, and happier than she could ever remember.

"Do you mind getting the last of the food?" He zipped the front of the small tent he had set up.

She reached inside the jeep, but before she could pull out the large food tin he had sprung to her side and taken it from her.

"It's not heavy," she protested. "I can do that."

"I expect you can." Leaning down, he brushed his lips over hers.

She smiled to herself as she remembered all the chest-pounding he'd been doing. Dash Coogan had more bluster than any man she'd ever known.

An icy gust of wind blew through the camp site, rattling the wet palm fronds, and she shivered. "I thought this was supposed to be a tropical climate."

"You cold?"

She nodded.

"That's good."

She looked at him quizzically.

"The weather can change fast around here, especially in the winter." He sounded pleased. "This is about the only time of year you need a tent.

Normally, I'd have just brought a sun fly to give us shade, keep out the bugs, and let the breeze through. Grab some dry clothes for both of us and that long underwear of yours while I put this away."

She did as he asked, but as she began to head toward the tent to change, he stepped in front of her. "Not that way." Taking her hand, he wrapped a poncho around their dry clothing and began to lead her into the palms.

The temperature was dropping by the minute, and her teeth had started to rattle.

"I'm afraid I'm too cold for a hike, Dash."

"Come on now. You're tougher than that. A little nip in the air never hurt anybody."

"It's a lot more than a nip. I can see my breath."

He grinned. "Is it my imagination or are you starting to whine?"

She thought of the tent and those fluffy down sleeping bags where they could be curled up right now and where she could be getting more lessons in lovemaking. "It's definitely not your imagination."

"I can see I'm going to have to get you toughened up."

He led her through a breach in the trees and she caught her breath. Before them in a nest of ferns and mossy rocks lay a small pool with steam curling from its surface into the chilly air.

"I told you there was a hot springs here," he said. "Now what do you say the two of us strip off these clothes and get down to some serious hanky-panky?"