Victoria Chancellor - The Prince's Texas Bride

“I should warn you that Aunt Marcy is in a wheelchair. She gets around so well that sometimes I forget, but I didn’t want you to be too surprised when we get to their house.”

“That’s fine. Was she in an accident?”

“No, she was one of the last cases of polio before the vaccine was developed in the 1950s.”

“Bloody horrible disease,” he muttered, then held up his hand. “And no comments about saying it in Texas English.”

“I wasn’t going to,” she said softly. She drove for a few more minutes, then gestured to the left. “I know you went off without much from your luggage. If you need to get anything, there’s a mall up there. Galveston clothing shopping is pretty limited unless you want souvenir T-shirts and tropical shorts.”

“That’s very thoughtful. I should pick up a few things. If you wouldn’t mind…”

“Not at all.”

They shopped at several stores for khaki slacks, another pair of jeans and a package of underwear. He let Kerry pick out several shirts since he wasn’t sure what Hank would wear. They both laughed over the wide variety of swim trunks, which he’d need for the beach. She playfully suggested bright green baggy tropicals with huge pink and purple flowers. He preferred solid blue with a discreet red stripe up the side. They compromised on a moderate red and white pattern.

At the cosmetics counter, he picked up a bottle of his usual cologne, some lotion and sunscreen, since they were going to the beach. Kerry appeared a bit surprised, but he couldn’t see ignoring personal grooming just because he was on a road trip.

Within an hour they were back on the road, his new duffel bag stowed in the back seat. He looked forward to meeting Kerry’s aunt and uncle and spending time in a typical American family home. He hoped his presence didn’t disrupt their sleeping arrangements. If so he could always get a hotel room, which he assumed were plentiful in this island city.

Or he could offer to bunk with Kerry, he thought with a grin. He’d be willing to sacrifice sleep for the opportunity to hold her in his arms and get to know her much, much better.

Just then they approached a high bridge.

“This is the only bridge on and off the island,” she explained. “When a hurricane warning is issued, Aunt Mary and Uncle Bob told me traffic is a nightmare.”

They passed over a bay with boat docks lining the shores. A little farther ahead, he saw waterside homes to the right, and a strange pyramid structure. “What’s that?”

“Moody Gardens. The Moodys are a wealthy Texas family who give a lot to different charities and universities. I’ve never been to Moody Gardens, but Aunt Marcy loves to go. They have a tropical habitat with butterflies.”

Soon the highway turned into a city street with a wide, tree-lined median as they went past small businesses and modest, sometimes shabby houses. So far, except for the scruffy palm trees and blooming shrubs, the city didn’t look like a semitropical island, but he hadn’t seen the beach yet.

“The old part of Galveston is up ahead,” Kerry said, pointing to the left. “Tomorrow we can tour some of the homes if you’d like. Or we can go to the Strand, this Victorian section near the pier, with shops and restaurants.”

“Anything is fine with me. Whatever you’d like to do, I know I’ll enjoy it.” He was especially looking forward to seeing Kerry in her swimsuit. He didn’t suppose he’d be lucky enough to discover she wore a bikini. “When will we go to the beach?”

“Almost anytime. As a matter of fact, we can take a walk along there tonight. My aunt and uncle live only two blocks off the seawall.”

“Fabulous,” he said with a grin when Kerry turned off the main thoroughfare onto a numbered side street. He couldn’t wait for a romantic moonlit walk along the beach with his Texas tour guide.

KERRY PULLED DELORES to a stop in the driveway behind her aunt and uncle’s van. She had to stop herself from running for the door and giving them both a big hug. She hadn’t seen Aunt Marcy and Uncle Bob for almost a year. She’d taken more class hours this last year, but continued to work a full shift at the truck stop. Between family, school and work, she hadn’t taken a vacation. And her aunt and uncle didn’t enjoy traveling much. Most houses didn’t accommodate Aunt Marcy’s wheelchair, so visiting was difficult.

Uncle Bob opened the door, grinning as he spread his arms wide. Kerry smiled and ran up the ramp to the front porch.

“It’s so good to see you,” she said against his pipe-tobacco-scented shirt.

“We’re so proud of you, Kerry girl,” he murmured as he gave her a bear hug. “It’s good to see you, too.”

She looked back at the car. Alexi was standing by Delores’s bumper holding his duffel and her suitcase. She gestured him forward.

“Uncle Bob, I want you to meet my friend, Mack.”

“Mack? Why, isn’t that Hank McCauley? Your mother sent us a picture of the two of you at a rodeo a couple of years ago. I thought you called him Hank.”

“Oh,” she said, waving her hand dismissively, “Mack is my special nickname for him.

“Mack, this is my uncle, Robert Jacks, but you can call him Bob.”

“Pleased to meet you,” Alexi said, holding out his hand and grinning. He sounded enough like Hank to fool someone who had never actually met the cowboy.

As the men shook hands, Kerry slipped behind them to find Aunt Marcy, just inside the living room. She leaned down and gave her aunt a big hug.

“I’m so glad to see you.”

“I’m so glad you brought a friend with you. I was worried about you driving across the state all by yourself in that old car.”

“Delores did just fine, thank you very much,” Kerry said, smiling at her aunt. “She might be a little old and have a lot of miles on her, but she’s never let me down yet.”

“I’m sure your new car will be just as good.”

“Oh, I’m sure it will, too. I’m just going to miss my old clunker. You’ll try to find her a good home, won’t you?”

Aunt Marcy nodded her head. “Of course we will, but you should have never named that car.”

Grinning, Kerry turned to see “Mack” and Uncle Bob enter the room. “Kerry brought a friend—Hank McCauley.”

“Wonderful,” Aunt Marcy said, reaching out her hand. “We have plenty of room and an extra sofa bed, Mr. McCauley.”

“Please, call me Mack,” Alexi said, giving his words a slight twang even as he bestowed his most charming smile on her aunt. “And as long as you’re sure I won’t be in the way, I’d love to stay in your home. If not, I can get a hotel room.”

“Nonsense,” Aunt Marcy said, turning her wheelchair around and heading for the hallway.

Kerry breathed a sigh of relief since the introductions were out of the way and no one was suspicious of her prince. They moved into the kitchen. Aunt Marcy was in the process of preparing dinner. Kerry hadn’t eaten since an early light lunch just before she met Alexi at the truck stop.

Aunt Marcy scooped fried okra out of the skillet and onto a paper towel-lined platter. The unique smell filled the yellow-and-white kitchen, which had been modified for a wheelchair. Most of the countertops and appliances were low, so they could be reached from the sitting position. As the vegetable cooled and drained, Aunt Marcy transferred ground beef patties to the sizzling skillet.

“Need help?” Kerry asked.

“No, I’ve got everything pretty well prepared. We weren’t sure when you’d get here, and I didn’t want dinner to get cold.”

Kerry smiled as Alexi eyed the fried okra. “Try it,” she urged. Of course, Hank had eaten this type of food all his life. He selected a single piece and, after testing the heat in the palm of his hand, he placed the okra discreetly into his mouth.