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The Wedding Kiss Page 22
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“I’ve missed her ever since we were separated in childhood,” Susanna said. Her voice was soft. “I know she must have been a wonderful friend to you, but I’m not Gloria. No one else will ever take her place in your heart, in mine, in Elam’s, or the children’s, but there is room in all our hearts for new friendships. New love.”
“I know.”
“If Gloria were still alive, you wouldn’t be married to her husband.”
“If she were alive, I’d have had a place to stay without worrying that the whole community would condemn me as an immoral woman.”
“But she isn’t alive,” Susanna said sadly. “And it does no good to think about such things. Now you’re married to Elam, and Gloria is no longer here. You have a new life to take hold of with both hands.” She closed her eyes. “When I arrived here on Monday I would never have believed that on Thursday I would be saying such things to the wife of my sister’s widower.”
“I understood why you resented me at first.”
“Well, I don’t resent you now. You and Elam have a whole future and plenty of room in this house. Your new sisters-in-law saw that. It’s why they kept the children out of the way so you would have a good wedding night—which I’m sorry I ruined for you.”
“You ruined nothing. There wasn’t anything to be ruined.”
Susanna fixed her with a look. “I’m getting tired of this, Keara Jensen. Look at that mirror on the wall, and don’t tell me you’re too blind to see the beauty in your reflection.”
“I can remember what Gloria looked like, how she behaved. It was nothing like me.”
“Two beautiful women can be very different in appearance, personality, and abilities, but down deep, the character of truly beautiful women is similar. Faithfulness, caring hearts, the ability to love. I have eyes to see, and I know what love looks like. What it feels like.”
Those words and the loss that echoed through them struck Keara with compassion. Here was Dr. Susanna Luther discussing romance with her, advising her, when Susanna lost her beloved husband a month ago.
“A good marriage to a solid, dependable man can be one of life’s greatest pleasures and strengths,” Susanna said more softly. “Elam is one of those good men. You’re a good woman.”
Keara felt a new sense of longing. How would it feel to be as loved by Elam as he was loved by her? And yet she had believed for so long that it wasn’t to be.
She stepped over to the mirror and stared at her reflection. Mirror-gazing had never been a habit of hers. The house where she’d grown up had no mirrors. In fact, these past months, coming to the house every day to see to the children and help Elam, she’d seen her reflection in this mirror more times than ever before in her life, and it disappointed her—hair so pale, when Gloria’s was so rich and black, eyes filled with shadows, when Gloria’s matched the sunlit sky. Dimples that made her look like an immature child instead of a well-developed woman.
She’d decided that the mirror let her know when her hair was a mess or her face was dirty. Otherwise, it wasn’t good for much.
“What’s on your mind, Keara Jensen?” Susanna asked.
“The past.”
“What about it?”
Keara picked up the pan of soapy water and poured it into the sink to drain. “Isn’t it always the past that affects our future? Once, before I was forced to quit school to attend to family needs, I had a crush on Johnny Stark, who lived in the village of Beaver. He had dark brown hair and broad shoulders. Half the girls in our school-house adored him. But when I admitted to a friend that I liked Johnny, she laughed. ‘You?’ she said. ‘What boy would be interested in you?’ ”
“Then she was no friend.”
“Soon, word spread through the school that silly ol’ tomboy Keara McBride, who couldn’t keep up with her classmates because she had chores at home—and who didn’t know how to dress or behave like a girl—thought she was in love with Johnny Stark.”
“How unkind,” Susanna said. “That is the opposite of ladylike behavior.”
“I know that now, of course, but I vowed to myself then that I would never share my heart like that again. I wasn’t the kind of girl to mingle or beguile a man. I was created to care for others, and that’s what I’m doing now. It’s God’s calling for me.”
“Oh, it may very well be. But I don’t believe that’s all you’re meant to be,” Susanna said. “It wouldn’t hurt, would it, to buy material that best matches your coloring, to sew a pretty dress or two like the one you’re wearing, or that lovely red dress you managed not to stain with blood on Monday night, and show Elam that you believe he deserves a beautiful wife? You do know how to sew, don’t you?”
“Of course.”
“In that case, I need you to ride to town for me today.”
Keara’s gaze met Susanna’s in the mirror’s reflection. “I can’t leave here with things the way they are now.”
“The marshal isn’t after you, he’s after me, and if Elam’s here, I’ll be safe. I just want you to visit the mercantile and purchase material, some sewing supplies and lace. I can show you a few tricks of seaming that will help you show off your womanly curves to your adoring husband. You need new clothes anyway. I’ve inspected your wardrobe when you weren’t looking, and it’s definitely lacking.”
Keara caught her breath and swung around. “You rifled through my clothing?”
“Oh, my! Did I say that? Must be the whiskey talking.” Susanna didn’t look the least bit repentant, and when Keara stalked from the bathroom and shut the door firmly behind her, she heard Susanna’s laughter following her.
Twenty-Three
Elam stood on the front porch watching his father-in-law ride up the road toward the White River neighbors. The knowledge that Brute McBride was settling back into his right mind eased a nagging pain that had gnawed in Elam’s gut for the past two years. Not only had he considered Brute one of his closest friends, he was also a strong man, quick thinking and quick acting when something needed to be done—a stalwart neighbor everyone knew they could count on.
His devotion to his wife had become legend along the hollow, but there was only so much one man could do to keep his farm going while caring for his wife. He’d bemoaned the fact more than once that he hated seeing his daughter swallowed up by family demands. He and his wife had both wanted so much more for her.
The dust kicked up by Brute’s mount had barely settled when Elam heard the thud of quick footsteps through the house, and the front door flew inward. Keara came shoving through the screen door as if running from a fire, only she wasn’t running, she was marching. Stomping. Angry.
The screen door slapped shut behind her as she rushed down the steps like a dust devil, her gaze straight ahead. She didn’t even glance toward Elam where he stood staring after her from the far side of the porch.
“Of all the meddling, nosy, insensitive, bossy…” Hands fisting at her sides, she let out a furious hiss.
A few strands of long, damp hair clung to her neck, and she had rushed from the house without taking time to pull on her sleeved blouse. Her taut and shapely arms were bare from helping Susanna bathe.
She planted her hands on her hips and crossed the yard to the stone wall that protected the orchard and garden, lips moving as she muttered more quietly to herself.
Susanna was right. Keara had as much gumption as Gloria’d had. Maybe more. She was saucy and smart and spoke her mind, except for those times when her confidence failed her, such as when the subject turned to romance.
On impulse, he leapt over the half-wall of the porch and hit the ground past the flowers. He did it so silently Keara didn’t hear him.
“What’s she done now?” he asked.
Keara gasped and jerked around, her brown eyes nearly black with anger, her cheeks flashing rosy pink. “What are you doing sneaking up on me like that?”
“I was just—”
“Have you been eavesdropping?”
“Only for the past minute o
r two, but—”
“Don’t I have a right to a single moment of privacy now? Did I sign all that away with the marriage contract?”
As he came nearer, he saw tears in her eyes, and as he reached for her they spilled over.
“You can have any rights you want, Keara Jensen,” he said gently, his hand touching the soft, warm flesh of her arm. “Remember, you’re the lady of the house.”
She blinked up at him, scattering the droplets of tears with her long lashes. She had never looked more beautiful, more vulnerable, or more attractive to him. Seductive…irresistible.
He put an arm around her, tentatively, not wanting to force her to step nearer to him. When she didn’t pull away, he wrapped the other arm around her and drew her forward. It was as if he couldn’t stop himself. Only Keara could stop him.
She leaned into him willingly, burying her face against his chest. “Don’t go messing with my mind,” she said, her voice muffled by his shirt.
“I’m a husband comforting his wife. Can’t a man do that?”
“A real husband can do that with his real wife.”
“You’re real. So am I.” She felt so good in his arms. She was so very real.
Her body stiffened, and then she pulled her hands up between them and pushed away. “We aren’t real.” She freed herself of his touch, turned away, and stepped to the dividing wall, reaching out to touch the edge of a stone embedded with crystal.
“We can be as real—this marriage can be as real—as we want it to be.” Elam didn’t follow her, because he knew she needed a little distance between them right now.
And yet his heart thudded in his chest. He knew what he wanted, and it wasn’t this. Not her walking away from him, rejecting the image of what a real marriage could mean for them.
“The minute word hit the air that we were to be married, everybody started trying to remake Keara McBride,” she said. “Even me. I tried fitting that image of a lady I knew you’d want for your bride. And I’m obviously lacking in all the necessary requirements, including clothes.”
“I didn’t try to remake you.”
“That’s because you knew we were only getting a legal license to live together for the sake of the children and to give me a home. Bless her heart, Pen even told me how she’d longed to get her hands on me for the longest time. Like I was a hopeless waif not good enough for the likes of the Jensens. My clothes aren’t pretty enough, my hair is a mess. I don’t know how to behave properly.”
“That’s not fair. My sisters love you as their own kin.”
“And then there’s Susanna, who’s decided she has every right to rummage around through my clothes—after all I’ve done to heal that shoulder of hers—and see if I have anything worth saving.”
Elam’s laughter came bursting forth in spite of the real danger shooting from Keara’s eyes. “Those awful creatures. How dare they try to polish you up and help you look your best?”
Keara placed her hands on her hips and aimed a deadly glare at him. He continued to laugh. He even dared to saunter to her side and put his arm around her again.
“Come here.” He urged her forward, and to his relief, his touch still seemed to affect her. He guided her back to the rock wall. “Remember the days you spent scouring the banks of White River, looking for just the right stones to cap this fence?”
She crossed her arms over her chest and nodded.
“You collected the prettiest ones you could find, and then you dug this one up.” He ran his fingers over the jagged edges of the crystal. “You scrubbed it with a brush until all the grains of dirt were washed away, and then you set it just right so that the sunlight would catch it and make it sparkle.”
“You’re comparing me to a rock fence?”
Once again, his laughter echoed from the side of the house. “Nobody’s comparing you to a rock fence. I’m comparing you to a glowing crystal that tries to hide its beauty.” He drew her closer, and he heard her breath go still. “Susanna caught me in the hallway earlier. She has decided you need an older sister to watch out for you, make sure you’re being treated right.”
“By who?”
“By me. She wants me to court you properly.”
Keara’s eyes widened, her lips parted, and to Elam’s delight, tears once again filled her eyes.
He had seen his sisters and Gloria cry so often at so many inconsequential things that he’d long ago learned not to interpret tears as a sign of hurt or anger.
She turned away from him and stared down at that crystal stone in the wall.
He stepped up behind her. Unable to resist, he put a hand on her shoulder. As always, it was soft, resilient. “Keara?”
Her muscles suddenly tensed. “Where’d Pa go?”
He shook his head. Wasn’t it just like her to change the subject? “He went to round up a posse.”
She turned to him, eyes round. “A posse!”
“Maybe not a posse, exactly, but help. Support. We need our neighbors in on this thing. We know who we can trust, and we need all the help we can get right now.”
She nodded.
He put a hand on her other shoulder. “Keara?”
“Yes?”
“What do you think would happen if we decided to make this a different kind of marriage?”
Again her lips parted, and he could have kicked himself. Susanna most certainly would have kicked him if she’d been listening. This wasn’t at all what he’d intended to say.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “Let’s back up for a minute. What I should have said was that I haven’t been able to get my mind off that wedding kiss. We sealed a pact with that kiss, and it didn’t seem to me like the kind of pact people make in a strictly business transaction.”
She didn’t move from his touch. She also didn’t argue with him. Instead, she blinked up at him as if mesmerized. It was all he needed.
He drew his hand from her shoulder to the back of her neck and bowed his head to press his lips to hers with all the gentle tenderness he felt for her. Her lips tasted of sassafras, and she smelled like cloves and ginger and cinnamon.
He raised his head slightly, breaking the connection as he dwelt in her golden gaze. Her eyes told him she wanted him closer, and so he kissed her again, and then his lips traveled down her cheek to the soft hollow beneath her chin.
She gasped suddenly and broke away. He once again resisted the powerful urge to draw her back.
“Keara?”
“What have I done?” She asked the question as if talking to herself, not him.
“You’ve done nothing wrong. This isn’t a betrayal of anyone, Keara. It’s a marriage. We’ve talked about this.”
“No, we haven’t.” She wiped at her lips with the back of her hand then looked down at her bare arms. “Not about this.” She hugged herself, hands over her arms as if suddenly ashamed of her state of undress, and she rushed toward the front steps.
“Keara, wait, please.” He started after her.
She reached the front door and turned back to him. “You said that mattress was supposed to arrive at the mercantile today?”
“Yes, it’s coming by train, but we’re going to have family and neighbors here in a couple of hours. I’ll ride to pick up the mattress. The road is too dusty—”
“Nobody needs me here for the meeting. I’ll wrap Susanna’s shoulder and get her back to bed then hitch Buster to the wagon and ride into town.”
“I want your input on this situation when everyone arrives, Keara.”
“My input? You’ve got my pa, Susanna, your brothers and sisters, all kinds of wise people. Why would you want my input?”
“Because you’re one of the wisest of them all, Keara Jensen.”
“Well…then. What are your thoughts?”
“We need to find out if there truly is trouble afoot or if we’re making smoke without a fire.”
“So one of us needs to overhear one of those meetings the men are having over at the farm Rod Snyder stole out from u
nder Pa’s nose.”
“To do that,” Elam said, “we first have to silence the watchdog. There may be more than one.”
“Bribe the animals if you have to with fresh meat. I’m buying laudanum in town. That should help them sleep.”
“Then once we know for sure we have a problem,” Elam said, “which I’m pretty positive we do, we’ll send a telegram to Susanna’s brother-in-law.”
“And get help here from real US marshals.”
“Two will be on their way as soon as Brute gets back to the telegraph office,” Elam said. “We’ve already discussed that.”
“And someone needs to find poor Timothy, if he’s even still alive.”
“David’s tracking him. Has been since last night. When Jael rode to town to get word to the Skerits, Kellen rode to David and Pen’s and told them as well. David’s the best tracker in the hollow, and he has hunting buddies in Seligman who’ll be riding with him by now. From there, they could have left word for the Skerits. I filed an X on the shoes on Timothy’s mount to make him easier to track when he and Frey were here yesterday. I’ve done that before when we needed to track, and David will remember that. I hope.”
“I think you’ve got your plan already,” Keara said. “I’ll see to Susanna and ride to town.”
Elam ached at the sudden shadow of sadness in her eyes, and for the life of him, he couldn’t think what might have put that sadness there. “Whatever I’ve done, Keara, I’m sorry. I’ll hitch Elijah to the wagon if that’s what you want, but you’ll have to cover yourself with a hood to keep from getting coated in dust. He’ll pull the load better than Buster, but he’ll kick up more of the road.”
“I’m pretty much covered in dust all the time anyway.”
“I’ll have it ready for you when you’re finished with Susanna.”
She nodded, hesitated, held his gaze for no more than a few seconds, and then she turned and rushed inside.
Susanna’s irritable voice continued to ring in Keara’s ears as she felt the grit of dust kicked up by Elijah’s huge hooves thirty minutes after helping her patient from the tub. She was already sorry she’d volunteered for this errand; by the time she reached Eureka Springs she would be just as dirty as Elam had warned.