Secrets In Texas

“And is your family here?” Isabella asked.

“No, my mother’s health isn’t good. She sends her regrets.”

Matthew only hoped his mother didn’t learn of his sham marriage. She knew he was visiting Zion’s Gate at the government’s behest but had no idea a bride had been included in the package. Rescuing his sister from the compound would more than make up for his deception.

Isabella patted his arm. “Yes, Angel said something about chemotherapy? I will be sure to light a candle for your mother at Mass.”

“Thank you. She’d like that very much.”

The chapel doors opened and a young, radiant couple brushed past them.

“It looks like it’s our turn,” Angel said, her voice low and tense.

CHAPTER TWO

ANGEL GLANCED AT her watch. They’d been standing near the front of the chapel for what seemed like ages but in reality had only been twenty minutes.

Tucking her hand in the crook of Matthew’s arm, she gazed up into his face with adoration. Fortunately Pastor Elvis wasn’t close enough to hear the content of their conversation. “What’s the holdup?” Angel asked through her fixed smile.

“Only a tiny delay. I asked the pastor’s mother to retrieve something for me.”

“This was supposed to be a quickie wedding,” she whispered.

Shrugging, he placed his hand over hers. “I know this is difficult for you. But please humor me.”

He was extraordinarily calm for a man who had never been married. Even a fake wedding was enough to make most bachelors a little psychotic. Or maybe she was just remembering another man who’d made the leap from bachelorhood to craziness so quickly.

Angel was spared further wedding-day reminiscences as Elvis’s mother bustled in carrying a florist’s box as if it were the Holy Grail. She handed it to Matthew, along with a wad of bills. He accepted the box but pressed the bills into the woman’s pudgy hand.

“That’s too much,” she murmured, and appeared humbled. And this was Vegas, a town where large tips were as prevalent as silicone implants.

“No. It’s just right.” Matthew’s smile was warm. “Would you mind presenting it to my bride? I’m a little nervous and clumsy today.”

“Certainly, dear.” She removed the lid and drew back layers of tissue paper. Sighing, she presented Angel with a single white rose so perfect it brought tears to Angel’s eyes.

The pastor’s mother nodded and blinked. “He’s such a lovely man. You two will be very happy.”

Her words made Angel want to sit down on the floor and cry. Because once upon a time she had believed in happily ever after. Before Kent had twisted their love into a living nightmare.

“It’s time, sweetheart,” Matthew murmured, pressing his lips to her forehead.

“Would you stop being so damn nice.”

The pastor’s mother clucked in disappointment and Angel’s mother stepped closer.

She grasped Angel’s chin. “Are you okay with this, mija?”

For a split second, Angel was tempted to call it off. But her mother had raised her to have courage. Angel wouldn’t turn her back on the women and children at Zion’s Gate.

“Yes, Mama. Very sure.”

“Remember, if you need us, all you have to do is call.”

“Yes, Mama. I will.”

She turned to Matthew. “Take good care of her, Matthew.”

Matthew’s eyes widened a fraction. He had to realize there was a threat in her words. Whether their marriage was real or not, Isabella expected much from her son-in-law.

“Yes, ma’am.”

Her mother patted his cheek as she walked by. “Good. We are of like minds, I think.”

“Yes, we are.” Matthew nodded to the pastor. “We’re ready to begin.”

Those had to be the scariest words Angel had ever heard. Because his voice held a timbre of finality that told her she was in way over her head.

Pastor Elvis stepped forward and cleared his throat, which had his mother scurrying to the boom box to start “Love Me Tender.”

But there was no need for a bridal march. The bride was already in position. Her father wouldn’t walk her down the aisle. He had guilt-ridden memories of giving her away to Kent. Instead Angel’s mother took her husband’s arm and led him to the first row of chairs.

The awkward three-plus minutes of Elvis’s croon gave Angel too much time to think about her assignment. She’d come a long way from her days as a terrified battered wife, but this assignment still made her uneasy. What if she fell into old ways of thinking?

The song ended with a sudden click and Elvis cleared his throat. Matthew looked composed.

But Angel couldn’t seem to keep the damn rose still. It trembled in her hands like a terrified kitten. Or maybe it was Angel herself who felt like a terrified kitten.

Squaring her shoulders, she resolved to be strong. She was a professional. And she knew how to kill a man in at least eighteen different ways. Without a weapon.

The absolute absurdity of being married by an Elvis impersonator should have reassured her. But glancing at Matthew’s solemn face, she started to sweat. The men in his family took “till death do us part” seriously. No one seemed to know how Matthew’s mother had managed to leave the man and live to tell about it. Angel figured Abigail Stone held some incriminating evidence against good old Jonathon, though she’d never revealed it.

“Do you have your own vows?” Elvis glanced from Matthew to Angel.

Angel opened her mouth to say no but heard yes being spoken in a very definitive baritone.

Matthew grasped her hand, turning her to face him. “Angelina, you are beautiful and courageous. I will love you, honor you, cherish you, protect you till death do us part. This is my solemn vow.”

Oh, God, he was laying it on too thick.

Mother Elvis sniffed, dabbing her eyes with a tissue.

Angel opened her mouth. This time she was relieved to hear her own alto. “Um, yeah, what he said.”

“I now pronounce you husband and wife,” Pastor Elvis intoned. “You may kiss the bride.”

“Don’t even think about it,” she muttered under her breath.

But Matthew took her in his arms and kissed her anyway.