Kell groaned.
“Chet won’t start any riots. I’ll have a talk with him,” she promised. “They took good care of me in San Antonio,” she added.
“Yes, but I was the one who took down Frank,” Bentley called. “Can you believe that little weasel tried to sue me for assault?” he added huffily.
“He didn’t get as far as first base,” Kell assured him. “Blake Kemp had a long talk with his attorney.”
“Why would our D.A. be talking to a defense attorney in San Antonio?” Cappie wanted to know.
“Because the defense attorney wasn’t aware of the familial connections of the defendant’s assailant,” Bentley murmured. “Ha! There went another Hunter!” he exclaimed.
Cappie blinked. “Familial connections…?”
Kell leaned down to her ear. “Don’t ask. The upshot is that the lawsuit is going nowhere. Fast.”
Cappie was still staring at Bentley. “What familial connections?” she persisted.
“The governor is my first cousin. Ha! Another one!”
“Our governor?” she exclaimed.
“We only have one. This game is great!”
Cappie sighed. She looked up at her handsome big brother. “The game is not going with us on our honeymoon,” she said firmly.
Bentley gave her a roguish glance. “Not even if I tell you how to get past the Hunters?”
“Well, in that case, maybe I could reconsider,” she chuckled.
* * *
Kell did make it down the aisle with a cane. The little country church in Comanche Wells was filled to capacity. Only people they knew got an invitation, but there was still standing room only. A good many of the guests were in uniform, either military or law enforcement, on one side of the church, while a number of Eb Scott’s guys were seated across the aisle from them. Covert glares were exchanged. Down the center aisle marched Cappie in her lovely white gown with what seemed acres of lace and a pretty fingertip veil. She was carrying a bouquet of yellow roses and wearing a smile that went from ear to ear.
She held on to Kell’s arm tightly, so proud of his progress that she beamed with happiness. He was already talking about a new job working for Eb Scott at his anti-terrorism school. She was really curious about how well her brother seemed to know any number of Eb’s employees, but she hadn’t made any comments. She was still indebted to Eb for lending her Chet and Rourke, who were seated together in the front of the church. Around them were her former and present coworkers, including Keely and Boone Sinclair. Boone’s sister, Winnie, was being watched with real intensity by Kilraven, dressed in an expensive suit in the row behind her.
She and Kell stopped at the altar, where he gave her hand to Bentley. He was beaming, too, so handsome that Cappie just sighed, looking up at him with gray eyes that adored him.
The wedding service was brief, but poignant. Bentley lifted the veil and bent to kiss her with such tenderness that she had to fight tears.
Then he led her down the aisle to the back of the church. The people who hadn’t been able to squeeze into the church were waiting outside with what seemed like buckets of rice and confetti. They were totally drenched in both as they ran to the white limousine that was to take them to the town civic center, for the reception.
* * *
They fed each other cake, posed for wedding pictures and generally had a wonderful time. There was a live band and they danced together to a slow, romantic tune, which lasted for all of two minutes before Cash Grier, with his beautiful wife, Tippy, signaled to the band leader.
There were grins, a fanfare and then a furious and delicious rendition of the classic tune “Brazil.” But Cash didn’t start dancing, as everyone expected him to. He glanced toward Bentley with a chuckle and a flourish.
Bentley gave Cappie a wicked look. “Shall we?”
“But, Bentley, you can’t dance…can you?” she exclaimed.
“I couldn’t,” he confessed, taking her onto the dance floor. “But Cash gave me lessons. Okay. One, two…three!”
He twirled her around in the most professional sort of way, in a mixture of samba, cha-cha and mambo that she followed with consummate ease while people on the sidelines began to clap.
“You’re terrific!” Cappie panted.
“So are you, gorgeous,” he chuckled. “Are we good, or what?”
