A Bride for Jericho Bravo

The doors to the study were open. She could hear voices in there, male voices: Ash and his brother. She would have to cross the open doorway to get her purse. The thought of doing that, of having the two men see her and wonder what she was doing wandering around the main house without Tessa, made her nervous—which only proved Mark was right about her. She was scared of her own damn shadow.

Where had her brave self gone?

As she hovered there at the foot of the stairs, admitting how pitiful and silly she was being, she heard Jericho’s rough voice, painfully clear, from inside the study.

“No, man. I mean really. You probably ought to get her to a shrink or something.”

Ash said, “She’ll be fine. She’s had a rough couple of days, that’s all.”

“She didn’t say a word through dinner. Just sat there, staring. Didn’t you notice?”

“Rico. Come on.”

“She got a drug problem, maybe?”

“Her boyfriend dumped her and she drove all the way here from Santa Barbara. She’s beat and her life’s in chaos. And you scared her.”

“I didn’t do crap. I was just standing there. That woman is not okay, I’m telling you. She needs—”

Marnie didn’t stick around to hear what she needed—let alone, to get her purse. Her cheeks burning and her heart pounding hard and fast with shame and fury, she whirled to go back the way she had come, pausing only to yank off her flip-flops so neitherAsh nor his bigmouth butthead of a brother would hear her retreat.

Barefoot, clutching her flip-flops in her fist, she took off down the hall, racing through the family room and the kitchen and, at last, out the French doors to the backyard. Once outside in the gathering dark, she stopped and sucked in a few deep breaths of the cool night air.

The deep breaths didn’t help much. Her heart still knocked against her ribs like it wanted to break right through the wall of her chest. Her cheeks still flamed with humiliation. She started running again, not quite so fast now, jogging back the way she had come.

The chopper was still waiting there, chrome shining, metal flake blue giving off a kind of sparkle even in the growing darkness. She slowed as she approached it and then veered toward it instead of running on by. A helmet waited on the seat.

In her head, Jericho’s voice now warred with Mark’s.

She got a drug problem, maybe?

What happened to you?

You probably ought to get her to a shrink or something.

You used to take chances.

That woman is not okay, I am telling you.

… willing to rise to any challenge. The bravest girl I ever knew.

… didn’t say a word through dinner.

I think you have to ask yourself …

Just sat there, staring …

Where is your spark?

Marnie put on her flip-flops.

Her spark? Mark wanted to know what had happened to her spark?

Well, maybe she’d just show him. Maybe she would show them all, on Jericho’s fancy bike. Maybe she would take that chopper for a nice, long ride.

Yeah, okay. She knew it was a bad idea. A very bad idea.

It was not only dangerous, it was also grand theft.

Where is your spark?

She’d learned a thing or two back in North Magdalene, in her dad’s garage. Like how to start an engine without a key.

The job required something to pry with. So she hustled into the garage, flip-flops slapping concrete as she went, and got a screwdriver from the tool kit she kept in her trunk. Once she had that, she ran back outside. She stuck the screwdriver in a pocket, grabbed the helmet and put it on. It was too big, but she tightened the strap as much as she could.

Squeezing the right brake lever to avoid any surprise wheelies, she straddled the bike and eased it upright between her legs. From atop the beautiful machine, it was a long way down those front forks to the front wheel.

In fact, the bike seemed bigger, now she was straddling it. Really big. And really dangerous. Even if she could get it started, the thing weighed more than she did and it would be a stretch for her feet to reach the pegs. It was way too much bike for her to handle….

She shut her eyes tight and called up Mark’s words in her mind.

Where is your spark?

When she opened her eyes again, she was ready. She was going to do it. She would not wimp out.

Using her heel, she guided the side stand up. She put the bike in neutral, released her grip on the brake and walked it around so it faced the driveway on the side of the house.

Then she turned the fuel valve to the on position and used her screwdriver to pry off the metal ignition cap, revealing the battery and ignition wires.

After that, it was so simple. She stuck the screwdriver in one back pocket and the ignition cap in the other and she twisted those wires together.

The big engine roared to life. She turned on the lights, pressed the clutch, shifted into gear and eased the clutch out as she gave it gas.

Chapter Two

“Did you hear that?” Jericho frowned at his brother.

The sudden roar began to travel. It rumbled along the side of the house, back to front.

“Sounds like your bike,” Ash said, looking puzzled.

Jericho glanced over his brother’s shoulder, out the window that faced the front of the house, just in time to see Tessa’s crazy sister rolling off down the street under the golden light of the streetlamps. She was riding his bike.

He said, “Your sister-in-law just stole my bike.”

Ash looked at him like he was the one with a screw loose.

Jericho decided not to argue. “I need to borrow a car.”