Carol Ericson - The McClintock Proposal

Several seconds later, Rod was massaging her foot. Her eyes flew open. “Do you think you’re going to massage it out?”

Pinching the tweezers between his fingers, he held it up. “I already got the sliver out.”

She hadn’t felt a thing. Her husband-to-be had a gentle touch despite his calloused hands. How the hell had she gotten so lucky? Maybe the losing streak she’d been riding these past few years ran out of gas on I-25, along with that motorcycle.

“What’s the plan?” Although she could sit here for the next three hours while Rod rubbed her foot, she had a wedding to attend.

“We get married.”

“Now? It has to be past nine o’clock. We still have to get a marriage license.”

“You almost got married in New Mexico. What do we need to get a license? Do we need a blood test?”

“We just need the license fee and a form of ID. No blood test, no waiting period. But I doubt if little ghost-town Hillsboro has a courthouse to get the license. Not to mention it’s Saturday.”

Rod slid the knife back into his pocket. “We’ll have to wait anyway. You still have your driver’s license?”

“Of course. How irresponsible do you think I am?” She shoved her hand into the fitted bodice of her dress and peeled her license from the side of her breast. “Tadah!”

He laughed. “You have a lot of tricks up your—or rather down your…a lot of tricks.”

Hoisting her legs from his lap, he stood up and extended his hand to her.

She tucked her driver’s license back into her strapless bra and grabbed his hand. “Where are we going?”

“Vegas, baby.”

ROD SLEPT BESIDE HER in the truck, his breathing deep and even. He’d insisted on driving the first leg of their ten-hour trip while she napped in the passenger seat. When she woke up, he was sitting ramrod straight, his eyes glued to the road.

He’d broken their deal. They worked out that he’d drive the first five hours while she slept, and she’d take over the wheel for the second half of the journey. Instead, he’d let her sleep for over six hours. She practically had to wrestle the steering wheel away from him to drive her share.

His chivalry impressed her and made her feel like a gooey marshmallow inside. Nobody had ever looked out for her the way he had this crazy day. His every move, since he first pulled over on the side of I-25, had been to protect her.

Even though she’d used all her wheedling powers, common sense and logic, she still couldn’t believe it when he agreed to her scheme. He’d admitted that he needed cash for his dude ranch, but she knew in her heart he’d based his decision on his desire to keep her safe. No, not desire, need. Something compelled him to perform good deeds.

She glanced at his handsome face, with its square jaw and broad cheekbones, one lock of hair curling over his eye. If he had such a burning passion to help women, why had matrimonial bliss eluded him so far? The man didn’t even snore.

A glow, like a giant spaceship, arose from the desert landscape. She accelerated toward its exuberant embrace. So many people came to Vegas looking for salvation, her father among them; but for her, this neon paradise really did offer deliverance.

Twenty minutes later, she cruised off the highway toward the Vegas strip. She nudged Rod’s shoulder with the heel of her hand. “We’re here.”

“Huh?” His head rolled to the side and he opened one eye.

“We’re in Vegas. Wake up.” Callie held her breath. Did his brief nap awaken him to the lunacy of their plan?

He rubbed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. Then he cranked his head from side to side. “My neck’s stiff.”

No sign of regret yet. “Where to? Did the Marriage License Bureau give you directions when you called earlier?”

“It’s on Clark Avenue.”

Her pent-up breath escaped through her lips, as she sank against the leather seat. No regret at all. “Do you know how to get there?”

“No, but my GPS does.” He reached beneath the passenger seat and pulled out a GPS, a black cord wrapped tightly around it.

“I didn’t know you had one of those.”

“I’ve made the trip to Austin a few times. Didn’t need it for that drive.” He plugged in the GPS and tapped the screen a few times. The monotone voice from the GPS intoned the first direction to Clark Avenue and the building that would seal her fate with this man for at least a few years.

When they walked inside the building, a blast of cold air greeted them, although the early morning temperature outside hadn’t reached scorching levels yet.

They waited in a short line behind two other couples, nobody giving Callie’s wedding dress a second glance. When they got to the counter, the clerk gave them each a form to complete. When they finished, they slid their forms, along with their driver’s licenses, across the count er. Ten minutes later they walked out with their marriage license.

“Pretty simple for a momentous event.”

“Is it a momentous event?” He raised an eyebrow, a half smile reaching his lips. “I thought we had a business arrangement.”

“Of course we do. I meant a momentous event for other people.” The words she uttered weighed down her heart. For other people. This kind of happiness swept others away, not her. And apparently not Rod.

“Let’s get you some shoes for the occasion.”

SEVERAL MINUTES LATER, he wheeled along the curved driveway of the Milano Hotel and Casino on the Strip.

A valet parking attendant helped her out of the truck as Rod plucked the parking claim ticket from another attendant. “Shops?”

“Level B, sir. When you enter the hotel, take the escalator to your right and go down one level.”

Rod thanked the valet and ushered Callie into the hotel, the plush red carpet sinking beneath her bare feet. They entered a women’s clothing store, open already at seven in the morning, or maybe it never closed.

Callie picked out a pair of off-white sandals with low heels. When the saleswoman began to take one of the sandals off her foot, Callie stopped her. “I’ll wear them out.”

Rod joined her at the counter, holding a gold band, ringed with small gemstones, between his thumb and forefinger. “Will this work as a wedding band?”

She took the ring from him and slipped it on her left ring finger. “Is it expensive?”

“It’s cheap costume jewelry.”

“Okay, it’ll do.” She held her left hand in front of her, admiring the sparkle of the fake gems. Her gaze collided with the bugged-out eyes of the saleswoman behind the counter.

“I-is that all, sir?”

“Add this.” He slapped down a pack of spearmint gum. “I don’t know about you, but I haven’t brushed my teeth in twenty-four hours.”

“Ditto.” Callie avoided looking at the saleswoman, whose mouth now resembled that of a gaping fish.

Rod handed over some plastic to pay for their purchases and asked, “Does the Milano have a wedding chapel?”

“Of course, and it’s on this floor. When you leave the shop, turn to the right. Go to the end of the line of shops and turn left. The chapel is straight ahead.”

As they left the shop, the woman called after them, “Congratulations and…good luck.”

Their luck held. The chapel squeezed them in before the first scheduled wedding of the morning. Rod paid for the standard package, which included a small bouquet for her, a boutonniere for him, a commemorative photo and a witness.

Top-notch all the way. Callie grasped the bouquet in her hands, the cloying scent from the lilies making her woozy.

The clergyman smiled and began speaking about love, commitment and sacrifice. Callie nodded as if all those words applied to her and Rod. She swayed, and then dug the heels of her new sandals into the carpet.