Belle of Bellville Ch. 11-12

Once they got to her Rover, he stopped and disengaged the alarm on the passenger's side before he pulled open the door. Then he turned and looked at her.

When she realized what he wanted, she asked, "What about your truck?"

"Don't worry about it. We're drivin' back in your Rover just in case he's thick enough to follow. Don't want him tryin' somethin' stupid on the road and get you hurt."

"Oh." She blinked big frightened eyes. "Thank you." Then nodded and finally got in the passenger's seat. She placed her bag on her lap as he closed the door, rounded the front of the Rover, and got in behind the wheel. He adjusted the seat—since it was pushed forward to accommodate her height—and then stuck the key in the ignition.

"I don't understand." She shook her head. "Why are you doing this for me?"

He brought the engine to life but paused, then turned to look at her from under his hat with a grim set to his lips and jaw. Then he slipped a hand behind her neck and leaned over to her while he watched as she blinked big shocked eyes...and then he kissed her. He kissed her long and deeply before he slowly pulled back, seeing her look at him in astonishment, and knowing she got his message loud and clear.

"That's why," he said before he turned in his seat and shifted. "Now we best git goin' 'fore we're late."

She frowned as she looked at him. "Late?"

"You'll see," he said, and drove them back to the ranch.

* * * *

As she sat quietly in the passenger's seat, she bit her lip in worry. Charles was in Bellville, and she had no doubt he wasn't going to leave until he got to her. Now that her secret was exposed—and with it, the many, many lies she had to tell in order to keep it—she wondered how the rest of the Barringtons were going to react toward her.

Not good, she guessed.

Then again, lying must be ingrained in the Beaumont-Boucher genes since her brother had lied about Charles' marital status. She was very cross with her brother. Now she had evidence—irrefutable evidence—that Charles hadn't stopped pursuing her and he wasn't married. Either Reginald didn't know about Charles' schemes or he was an accessory. If the latter, she'll never forgive him for it. NEVER.

With her elbow on door, absently nibbling her thumbnail as she thought about these things, she became aware that Jacob hadn't said a word ever since leaving Bellville City. She stole a furtive glance his way, seeing him calmly steering, his hat back on his golden locks and his eyes trained on the empty road ahead.

"So. That was Charles."

She realized that he'd been aware of her looking at him, and he looked over at her with unreadable but lazy blues. Her eyelashes flickered nervously as she nodded, but she looked down at her lap as her slender hands smoothed imaginary wrinkles from her skirt.

"Yes."

"How long have you been runnin' from him?"

"Well, not running, exactly, but more like making myself scarce, hoping that he'll come to the realization—"

"—Runnin'."

She sighed softly. "Yes."

"How long?"

She shook her head with a slight frown, and swallowed before she lifted her head to look out her window. She didn't want him to see the shimmering of tears in her eyes. "Since I was twelve. But lately?" She sighed. "Little more than a year."

He turned his head and looked at her, his jaw a little more rigid. "Twelve?"

She stared at him for a moment before she dropped her eyes to her lap, and nodded. She didn't see how an angry spark appeared in his eyes before he returned his attention to the road ahead.

"Is that when he hurt you?"

"No." She shook her head and quickly swiped away a tear rolling down her cheek. "It was a few years later, a year before my mother died."

"That's not a few. By my calculations, that's a couple. That makes it two."

"It doesn't matter."

"Matters to me."

She cleared her throat as she fidgeted in her seat. "Anyway, you understand I can't stay now. I have to go. I'll try to find a replacement, but I can't promise I can stay until I do since you've taken down the advertisement at the Postal Plus two days ago—"

"—James told me how your mother died," he said. "An auto accident."

She nodded. "Yes."

"Reckon it was your mother who kept him away from you."

She looked at him with frowning, shimmering eyes, "Yes. But I don't see—"

"With her gone, that's when he started hurtin' you."

She swallowed and looked away. "This is a very painful subject for me, Jacob."

He turned his head to look at her and she dropped her gaze. "He's the one who made you afraid of men."

"I really don't want to talk about it—"

"—And maybe even behind that accident that took your mother."

She snapped big eyes to him to see him look earnestly back before he redirected his gaze out in front of him.

"I reckon you've been thinkin' along those lines, too."

She couldn't deny it. When she first heard of the accident, she openly accused him of being behind it. Her father and brother, both, put a quick stop to that and told her she couldn't make false accusations against a DeVille.

"So you don't think it's crazy to think that he was behind the car accident?"

"Nope. I reckon I don't since I've been thinkin' the same thing. Now I've seen him, and seen he's as crooked as a dog's hind leg, I wouldn't put it past him. Just wonderin' why your father and brother didn't see it."

"My father...he hasn't been himself ever since Mama died. And Reginald," she sighed, "he's been friends with Charles since they were very little."

"So, knowin' how obsessed he is about you...do you think he ain't gonna find you again if you start runnin' again?"

She shook her head. "I know there's no guarantee, but I have to keep trying—"

"—Why?"

"Why?" She gave him an incredulous look.

"Yea. Why?"

"What do you suggest I do? End this running and just give up?"

"Nope," he said. "I told you already. It's high time you stand your ground."

She blinked big shimmering eyes. "Stand my ground?"

"Stay put."

"Here? In Bellville?"

"Seems as good a place as any."

She shook her head. "You don't know this man, Jacob. He's cunning, cruel, and very powerful. He's got unlimited funds and connections at his disposal, and he can pose a grave threat to you and your family if he so chooses."

"You ain't gotta be worried about us."

"I-I just can't have that on my conscience." Then she looked over at his handsome profile, and when he turned his head and looked back, she dropped her eyes and shook her head. "I'm so sorry for being such an inconvenience."

"You've been an inconvenience the moment you stepped out of your Rover that day, four days ago."

"Yes, I know," she said with a tiny bite in her tone. "But I was certain he wouldn't find me in Bellville. Now that he has, I have to go. I know him. He won't rest and he won't leave Bellville until I do."

"There's nuther alternative."

She frowned as she looked at him. "If there is, I don't see it—"

"—Marry me."

She stared at him with big eyes. Did she hear him right? "What?"

"You heard." Then he looked over at her surprised face. "Be my wife."

She looked incredulously at him. Then her blue eyes sparked with fire. "Are you mocking me, Mister Jacob?"

"We're back to 'Mister' again," he said, exasperated. "No, I ain't mockin' you, Bella," he added with a calmer tone. "As my wife and as a Barrington, you have the protection of the Barrington name."

"It won't stop him."

He looked lazily over at her and saw the shimmering of tears and the pain in their crystalline sapphire depths. "I guarantee it will. It'll stop him cold."

The cross look in her face faded before she dropped her gaze to her lap and then up and out her window. She thought about what he said and nibbled on her lower lip. "Do-Do you m-mean it, though?" she asked softly. He didn't respond and she turned her anxious face and looked at him. "About marrying you. Were you serious about the offer?"

"By now you should know I don't say nuthin' 'less I mean it, Bella," he said without looking her way.

"I-I mean, we've only known each other four days, so it-it wouldn't be a real marriage, would it? I mean, it can't be...right?"

He shrugged. "I reckon it'd be as real as any marriage."

She cleared her throat, fidgeted, and then looked over at his profiled face—and then froze in pure feminine admiration of a purely male man. My god, she thought, he was so handsome. So strong, so self-assured, so difficult to read! She felt her cheeks infuse with hot color, recalling their lovemaking and that, although he was a tough, red-blooded Texan, he was also a gentle lover...so patient, so attentive...But then again, he's had a lot of experience with women. She was under no illusion that he hadn't honed his skills as a lover with half of the female folk in Bellville! No wonder he wasn't married yet, and it stood to reason why he never wanted to be married—just as Elena told her. So why did he want to marry her now?

"I-I...I mean...I know how you feel about marriage. I know you're only trying to help me." She cleared her throat again while moving her delicate chin uneasily. "So, of course it'd just be temporary...right? That is what you have in mind? A temporary marriage until Charles is convinced to leave me alone?"

He didn't respond.

"Be-Because I just got a thought—"

"—I hear you've got plenty of thoughts," he said.

She eyed his unreadable profile for a moment before she cleared her throat and then moved in her seat with knees properly together but now pointing toward him. "If-If I marry, I will come into a bit of money. Actually, my husband would. I could use some of it, actually. It could help me with a new start." She watched as he arched an eyebrow at her. "Of course you'll be handsomely compensated."

"How much is 'a bit'?"

She scraped her throat. "Four million dollars." She looked at his profile seeing no reaction. "It's my dowry, you see. Technically, it's my future husband's money, not mine. That's why I have no access to it. And although I believe you're wealthy in your own right, it never hurts to have a bit more, am I right?"

"Never can have too much money."

"Right." She nodded wholeheartedly in agreement. "So if you'd agree to marry me it would only be fair that you keep the lion's share of the money because I'll only need enough to start anew elsewhere. But when the time comes, it has to be a divorce. We can't do an annulment. Otherwise it would be as if we've never married and the dowry would have to be returned. But an amiable divorce is quickly done with not much fanfare and you'll still keep the dowry."

He didn't respond.

"And-And," she continued, "I'll, of course, not put any restrictions on you."

He looked over at her with unreadable blue eyes. "Restrictions?"

"Yes." She scraped her throat. "You're as free as you've always been."

"You mean, free to have sexual relations with other women?"

She frowned because that thought bothered her. But she had to stay focused. "Yes, I guess that's what I mean."

"Well, see, I reckon we're havin' a problem with communicatin'," he said.

"We are?"

"I asked you to be my wife." He looked over at her.

She blinked big shocked eyes. "I-I know you did, and I was just pointing out the benefits—"

"—You're the benefit, Bella. I reckon I don't need nuthin' more than that to marry you."

She looked confused. "Are you saying...are saying you want to marry me? I mean, really marry me?"

"I'm askin' you to be my wife," he said.

"But we only know each other a few days! You can't seriously want me to be your wife after only a few days. You don't even know me—"

"—As I see it, we've gotten to know each other well enough," and he watched as she blushed. "And I reckon most couples gettin' hitched need a lifetime to git to know each other, so I don't see how we'll be any different."

Her eyes softened as she looked at him. "You want to marry me? Really marry me?"

"Yup. Thought my kiss back yonder told you as much."

She smiled shyly as she dropped her eyes. "I just wanted to be certain."

"Certain now?"

"Yes. Very certain."

Then, as they drove up the road to the front of Barrington house, she blinked big eyes when she saw so many cars parked there. Soon thereafter, she saw Mr. John Barrington step out on the porch, waving them over. She was surprised to see him in a three-piece tan suit, tie, and bluebonnet boutonnière, and white ten-gallon hat!

When they parked and got out, John Barrington stepped down the porch and came straight for her. "Come now! Doc's been waitin' for you two. We've gotta get you two hitched quick," he said before he suddenly hugged her. "Welcome to the family, Isabella," he said with a warm smile.

"Wel-welcome to the family?" she piped, confused as never before.

But he didn't answer as he looked at Jacob. "Everythin's been arranged. Doc's been waitin' for over an hour."

Jacob looked at Isabella. "It's time."

"Time? To do what?"

He smiled warmly at her and she felt the bottom of her stomach nearly drop out! Then he took her hand in his and looked deeply into her eyes, and she nearly swooned.

"Time to make you my wife, Bella."

There was a sudden commotion behind John Barrington's tall frame. Someone had come busting out of the house, and there was excited shouting that she, at first, didn't catch because she was too busy swooning—and picking up her stomach from somewhere between her strap-sandals.

To her shock, she saw none other than—

"Papa?" she whispered.

The tall handsome gentleman with black wavy hair and graying temples, snapped his blue eyes around before he spotted his daughter below. Dressed in a three-piece tan suit, white shirt and a bluebonnet boutonnière in his lapel, he didn't look anywhere near the invalid both Reginald and Charles made him out to be. He looked ready for a wedding!

The moment he saw her, his face relaxed before he rushed by John Barrington, quickly stepped down the steps, and caught his daughter into his arms. "Isabella, my Bella," he whispered with tears, hugging her tightly. Then he pulled back and smiled through his tears at her. "I'm so happy you're all right."

She stared up at him. "I-I can't believe you're here."

He smiled warmly down at his daughter. "John had me picked up with his private helicopter and brought here this morning for your wedding."

Helicopter? Wedding? How did he know?

"You arrived this...morning?"

"It's not every day that my only daughter is getting married. And I couldn't be prouder," her father told her warmly. "With a Barrington of all people!" he added with pride. "Never thought my daughter would marry into a Texas oil baron's family! Your mother would be so proud, ma chère. She only wanted the best for you and it appears that's exactly what you've achieved."

Her jaw dropped. "O-O-Oil...baron?" She turned and looked at Jacob who watched her closely. "Oil?"

Jacob wasn't just the son of a wealthy cattle rancher. He was the son of an oil baron!

Then James' cries tore through the air. "Pa! Pa! Junior ain't at his place! I couldn't find him and Jerr here just told me that Junior's gone off in his truck! I think he's gotten it in his head to rescue her, and he's taken his rifles and handguns!" James cried in panic—dark blond hair slicked back and wearing a soft blue three-piece suit, too.

Everyone—even Jerr—looked dressed for a wedding! She turned her attention on Jacob but he was looking at Jerr with a rigid jaw. The old ranch hand looked uncomfortable with hat in hand and his weathered face as white as a ghost's.

"Aw hell! I knew he'd gotten his tail up the moment he heard. Should'a known he couldn't wait till his brother got back!" John Barrington snapped. "He's gone crazy like a bullbat!"

"I tried to stop him, boss, I did," Jerr said.

"I know you did, Jerr. I know," John Barrington said before he suddenly looked up to see his middle son marching toward the end of the house. "Where're you off to?"

"Gonna get'm back!" Jacob said over his shoulder.

John Barrington stepped to Jerr and firmly took his arm, "Round up all the men and go with him, Jerr. Keep my boys safe. I aim to see my boy married today and ain't no one gonna keep that from happinin'!"

As John Barrington rushed with old Jerr back into the house, only James, Andrew Boucher, and Isabella were left standing.

"Sorry about the delay on your nuptials, Isabella," James said, sheepishly.

"Never mind that," she said, shaking her head. "What's going on? What's the commotion about?"

James frowned at her. "Didn't hear?"

She shook her head. "Hear what?"

"Elena's been kidnapped. Happened early this morning. We're thinkin' it's that DeVille fella that's been lookin' for you."

"He did what? He kidnapped Elena?!"

"Goddamn that no good piece of shit!" Andrew Boucher snarled. "I never trusted that man. Your Mama never did, either. Now he's gone and kidnapped an innocent girl? Now it's clear as day what a goddamned crook he really is under all that polished veneer!"

She stared at her father for a moment. "I thought you liked him?"

"Never did, Isabella. Ever since your Mama saw him for what he truly is, I've had my suspicions about him. I placated his father for a while until he and I signed a large deal, but that's been years ago. I told him he was no longer welcome at our home." Her father shook his head. "And now he's ruining what's supposed to be the happiest day in my little girl's life and kidnapped a young woman to boot! It's criminal and I swear to you, he's going to pay for it!"

She looked at James. "James, I need the keys to your truck."

"Why?"

"Please," she said softly as she looked into his confused blue eyes, "please trust me."

"I'm coming with you," James said with that Barrington stubbornness she knew all too well.

"Okay," she said with a nod and waited for James to come off the porch.

"Where do you think you're going, Isabella?" her father asked her.

"I think I know where he's keeping Elena."

To Be Continued

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