Weathering Rock

by Mae Clair

  Caleb shot him a venomous glance. “He means during the day,” he elaborated for the benefit of Arianna’s parents. It might be commonplace for unmarried couples to sleep together and even live together, but he couldn’t help falling back on the morals of his own century. The idea of an unmarried woman sleeping with her fiance prior to their wedding was scandalous. Squaring his shoulders, he made a concentrated effort to appear alert. He had the distinct feeling Wyn and Rick enjoyed watching him squirm.

  “The women went to a restaurant for the shower,” he explained. “That’s why you couldn’t reach Arianna or Lauren. She should be home soon. In the meantime, you’re welcome to wait here.”

  Paul frowned. “No. We’ll go our hotel. It’s what we’d planned anyway. We’ll sort the rest out tomorrow.” He cast Lucas a glance. “We’ll wait for you at the car, Luke.”

  Caleb’s throat tightened. Luke. Not Lucas.

  He hadn’t realized how fond Arianna’s parents were of her ex. The shortened form of the sergeant’s name indicated comfortable and affectionate familiarity.

  As Paul and Bethany disappeared around the side of the house, he shot the dark-haired man a bleary-eyed glance. “Well calculated and played.”

  Lucas feigned ignorance. “I don’t know what you mean.” He started after Arianna’s parents. It took Caleb’s alcohol-fogged brain a second longer to spur his legs into motion. He half stumbled down the steps, righting himself at the last minute and jogging the short distance to catch up to Lucas.

  “Arianna isn’t going to appreciate your meddling.” Damn, but it was hard breathing when his head spun and his heart hammered from the short burst of exertion and alcohol. Any other day he could have run five miles before breaking a sweat, but the beer had sapped his stamina.

  “I’m not meddling, but I can’t help making an observation.” Lucas stopped, turning to face Caleb. “I had a friend of mine check you out and your name turned up in a hush-hush government database attached to the military. Turns out you really are some kind of retired colonel, but nothing adds up. Your age, the lack of available information, and a records trace that goes abruptly blank.”

  “I didn’t realize I warranted such scrutiny. I’m flattered.” Lucas had lost the upper hand. If his intention had been to rattle Caleb, it hadn’t worked.

  “I haven’t forgotten about the mutilation murders that happened out here–”

  “Unfortunate victims of a large predatory animal, according to your medical examiner.”

  “And a minute ago,” Lucas continued as if Caleb hadn’t spoken, “I could have sworn you almost called Rick Rothrock your father.”

  Caleb had the presence of mind to snort. “You’re drunker than I am.”

  “Maybe.” Lucas paused, recognizing the absurdity of the suggestion. “Be sure to tell Ari I brought her parents around.” In the next minute he was gone, swallowed by darkness.

  Caleb frowned. His initial meeting with the Harts had been short and disastrous. Hopefully, he could redeem himself with a better impression tomorrow.

  * * * *

  “Caleb.”

  Someone plopped on the bed beside him, sending his cheek bobbing where it pressed into the pillow. He cracked an eyelid, painfully aware bright light spilled through the windows. He groaned.

  Morning.

  It felt like he’d only fallen asleep an hour ago. He remembered staggering upstairs somewhere around two AM, sprawling face down on the bed, fully dressed. Sometime during the night he’d kicked off his shoes, but that was as close as he’d come to stripping.

  The inside of his head thundered like a battlefield and his neck had grown stiff, his face pressed into the pillow. He tried to wet his lips, but his tongue felt like sandpaper.

  “Ughnn.” He forced one eyelid higher, unsure if he should be delighted or wary to find Arianna staring down at him. “What time is it?”

  “Ten.” She sat on the bed, kneeling on her haunches fully alert, looking like she had the energy to run a marathon. “My parents arrived last night, did you know that? Of course you do,” she said before he could formulate a word. “Unless, you were too drunk to remember the conversation you had with my father. Whom you brilliantly called Peter.” Her mouth dipped. “Oh, Caleb, how could you?”

  “I almost got it right. I knew it started with a P.”

  “No. I mean how could you get so drunk?”

  “Oh.” Cookout. Beer. Wyn. Rick. It was starting to come back. With a groan for the racket in his head, he rolled onto his back. “Stag party?” he ventured hopefully.

  She pressed her lips together. “Just wait until I get my hands on your father. And Wyn. You do realize we have the traditional rehearsal dinner this evening? With my parents.”

  “I’ll be on my best behavior, Annie.” He reached for her hand, knowing he had all the appeal of a vagabond, his clothes rumpled and wilted, his hair a disheveled mess, his eyes bloodshot and red. If there were any justice in the world, Wyn and his father were feeling worse. “Stop worrying. Everything will be fine.”

  Her expression softened and she smoothed the bangs from his forehead. “How bad is your hangover?”

  “Considering I haven’t stood up yet? Bad. Fortunately, I’m an expert at managing headaches.”

  “It serves you right. I was out most of the night with my friends and you don’t see me hung over.”

  “That’s what I wanted to hear.”

  She laughed and gave him a nudge. “Get up. You’ll feel better after a shower. I’ll help you into the bathroom, though why I’m being so nice after you such made a bad impression on my parents is beyond me.”

  “It wasn’t that bad.” Stiffly, he sat and swung his legs over the side of the bed. When his feet touched the floor he grimaced, the contact boomeranging into his head like a shockwave.

  “You called my father Peter. You didn’t even get his name right.”

  “Your mother liked me.”

  “She was being polite. The first thing she said to me when I talked to her this morning was, ‘Arianna, he’s blond.’”

  He blinked blearily, trying to decipher the logic behind such an open-ended statement. “Is there something wrong with that?”

  She giggled. “Shower. You’ll feel better.”

  “And then everything will make sense?”

  “Of course. And if it doesn’t, pretend. At least until my parents leave.”

  * * * *

  Arianna fidgeted, adjusting to the thought that twenty-four hours from now she would be Mrs. Caleb DeCardian. The rehearsal had gone smoothly, Wyn’s minister friend guiding everyone through the steps of the ceremony. In the days since they’d first planned the wedding, she’d extended the invitations to include several couples and friends. With her parents, Daphne, Lauren, Rick and Wyn, the total count had grown to a little over fifteen. It had been awkward at first explaining to Lauren why Rick had been invited. Eventually, she’d given up, saying he and Caleb had become good friends.

  She kept the rehearsal dinner small. She and Caleb, her parents, Lauren, Wyn and Rick. Daphne had been invited, but bowed out at the last minute complaining of an upset stomach. Arianna was sure she was still smarting over her breakup with Seth, blaming Caleb.

  Weathering Rock looked beautiful–the local florist had transformed it into a showpiece. Garlands and greens draped most every room, intertwined with pink sapphire roses and white calla lilies. Even the banister in the center hall was draped with flowering vines and silken whorls of gold and white ribbon.

  Long-stemmed roses in milk glass and baskets of white hydrangea perfumed the parlor where the ceremony would take place. Several rows of padded folding chairs created a center aisle leading to the fireplace, which had been dressed with sprays of gold-tipped roses and white tapers in crystal candlesticks. She’d printed a copy of the image of Caleb’s mother she’d found on the internet, framing it in a place of honor on the mantle.

  “This way both of your parents will be at our wedding,” she’d tol
d him.

  He’d stared at the image, speechless, then gathered her in his arms, whispering how she couldn’t have given him a better gift.

  For the rehearsal dinner, the dining room table was set formally with silver and china. Daphne would be catering the wedding, but Wyn had sprung for tonight’s dinner, relying on his usual gourmet service for preparation and delivery.

  The menu was exceptional. From the angel hair pasta with smoked salmon appetizer to the main course of jumbo lump crab cakes, seasonal vegetables and broiled red potatoes, each bite was superb.

  Arianna picked at the food, unable to relax.

  Her parents had shown up right before rehearsal started, leaving little time for conversation until everyone sat down for dinner. Caleb was still feeling the effects of a lingering hangover, but poised and in control, he masked it well. Rick had recovered quickly, accustomed to all-night parties, but Wyn fared worse. She noted he stuck to water, despite a selection of wines and imported beer.

  “Arianna never told us what you do, Caleb,” her mother announced, picking delicately at a mixture of grilled zucchini and yellow squash.

  Arianna’s glance flew between the two, a claxon going off in her head. She could imagine how her father would react when he learned his future son-in-law had no viable source of income. Seated at Caleb’s side, she shot him a look from the corner of her eye, silently urging him to be careful.

  “I’m retired from the military,” he replied.

  That intrigued her father enough for him to pause in the act of spearing a potato. “What rank?”

  “Colonel.” He said it with the same matter-of-fact air he always did. Thankfully, her father didn’t scoff outright, but Arianna read the expected flash of skepticism in his gaze.

  “Aren’t you awfully young to be a colonel?”

  “Retired,” Caleb corrected. “It was a special assignment.”

  “Iraq? Afghanistan?”

  “I’m afraid that’s classified.”

  Arianna almost choked on a piece of crabmeat. Apparently, Wyn and Rick had been coaching Caleb on how to respond to personal questions. Both preened like teachers applauding a favored student.

  For his part, her father looked suitably impressed. “What do you do now?”

  “Oh, Paul, stop drilling the man,” her mother admonished with dismissive glance for her husband.

  “Well, he can’t live off a taxpayer’s pension indefinitely.” Her father’s gaze swiveled back to Caleb. “You’re too young to stop working. Especially with a wife to support.”

  “Dad–” Arianna said.

  “You’re correct, Sir,” Caleb cut her off, taking the lead. “Presently, I’m engaged in researching and writing a book on the Civil War. It’s something Annie and I plan to work on together.”

  “Annie?” Her mother’s brows rose into her hair.

  Caleb smiled, managing to look mildly embarrassed. “I meant Arianna. Annie is my own special name for your daughter.”

  Arianna felt his fingers close over hers as he raised her hand to his lips for a kiss. Bingo! He’d scored double points with her parents in the passing of a few seconds. One glance at her father revealed he was preening from being addressed as “Sir” while her mother was enraptured by the romance of an intimate pet name.

  A book. Either Rick or Wyn had coached him on that, or he was becoming deft enough to spin his own tales. She found the notion appealing and planned to talk to him about it later.

  “I think we’ve had enough of your father’s questions,” her mother announced with a disarming smile. “I’d love to hear how you and Caleb met.”

  “I–” Arianna felt like she’d been thrust under a spotlight. She wracked her mind, trying to sort through what she could and couldn’t say.

  “She hit me with her car,” Caleb announced, saving her the trouble.

  Her mother gasped. “What?”

  “Well, she didn’t actually hit me. I was on a horse at the time.” He grinned, his smile when used to full effect, magnetic.

  Content to let him take the lead, Arianna sipped her Chardonnay, listening as he explained their initial encounter. It was interesting hearing it from his perspective, especially when he reached over and twined his fingers with hers, announcing how he’d fallen in love with her on the spot. She could sense her mother melting, caught up in the gallantry of the way he described it. Even without the benefit of werewolf pheromones, he was compelling and hard to resist.

  Unless you were a man.

  “Let me get this straight,” her father said incredulously. “You were riding a horse on a dark road, in the middle of a fog, after midnight? And Arianna–” He turned to his daughter with a look of disbelief. “You gave a ride to a complete stranger? He could have been a serial killer for all you knew.”

  “Dad, stop creating issues where there aren’t any. You’re overreacting.”

  “Well, how do you expect me to react?”

  “Hey, who’s ready for dessert?” Wyn ventured, attempting to steer the conversation to safer territory. “My dinner service recommended a wild berry tart with almond creme. I’ll make some coffee. How’s hazelnut sound, Mrs. Hart?”

  “Lovely. And please, call me Bethany.”

  “A beautiful name,” Rick chimed in, running interference. “English, isn’t it?”

  “Hebrew, I believe. My mother said it was biblical.”

  “Shows what I know. I guess I need to stick to real estate.” He flashed a manufactured smile, meant to charm. Arianna had seen him use the same ploy on all manner of nubile blondes. It used to irritate her, but now she was grateful for his easy charisma. Obviously he and Wyn had grown protective of Caleb. Before she knew it, several conversations where happening at once. When her father spoke, his deep voice carried over all of them.

  “Why is it,” he asked Caleb, “that I’ve spent the last several hours with you and still know nothing about you?” His tone wasn’t quarrelsome so much as challenging, but it brought all other conversation to a dead stop.

  Arianna held her breath, looking between the two men. She should have known the suddenness of her marriage wouldn’t sit well with either parent, especially her father, who had always been fond of Lucas.

  Caleb held her father’s gaze a full six seconds before replying. “I’m sorry you feel that way. I can tell you that I love your daughter and that you have absolutely nothing to fear from me. I’d give my life to keep Arianna safe.”

  Her heart leaped to her throat. “Caleb–”

  “It’s all right, sweetheart.” Gathering her hand again, he turned in his chair to face her. “Twenty-four hours from now the world is going to change for both of us. I’m well aware there are going to be obstacles along the way, but I can face any of them as long as I have you by my side.”

  Riveted by the love in his eyes, Arianna couldn’t breathe. It suddenly felt like no one else was in the room, that time had wrapped her and Caleb in an intimate cocoon.

  Her mother sighed, the sound wistful and heartfelt. “That’s simply beautiful. I know all I need to know.” Frowning, she smacked her husband on the arm. “And so does he. I think I’ll take that coffee now, Wyn.”

  Arianna smiled. Her mother had become an ally.

  Chapter 31

  Arianna couldn’t have asked for better weather the day of her wedding. A blue, cloudless sky coupled with low humidity and a gentle breeze made the mid-August temperatures pleasantly agreeable. The ceremony was scheduled for six in the evening, but she arrived early, nervous as expected, dressed in shorts and sandals, carting makeup, hairdryer and all manner of accessories into the rear bedroom. Her mother and Lauren helped with the antique wedding gown she’d selected, lacing up the back until she was cinched inside.

  With an off-the-shoulder neckline, the elegant silk organza gown was more ivory than white with a boned bodice and a soft satin bow gathered at the back. She wore her hair loose, tumbled over her shoulders, the top restrained by an ivory headband twined with baby�
��s breath. Pale eye shadow, pink blush and sheer lip gloss were the only touches of make-up she wore. Her bouquet was a gathering of pink rose buds bundled with ribbon.

  When the time came to stand at Caleb’s side and recite her vows, her throat went dry. She’d seen him in his uniform before, but he’d added a dress sword and a pair of wide-cuffed gloves, folded over his belt. Looking into his eyes, it was hard to imagine anyone not immediately realizing who and what he was–a man who’d fought in the Civil War, for whom the uniform was not a costume or part of a re-enactment tribute, but a reflection of life.

  They’d chosen plain gold bands for their rings and opted for traditional wedding vows rather than writing their own. Those had already been scored on their hearts forever, and Caleb was nothing if not traditional. At last the words she’d longed to hear rang throughout the room. “I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride.”

  A cheer rose from her friends as Caleb took her in his arms and kissed her. A second later, Ode to Joy exploded from hidden speakers. She’d never felt happier in her life, and wanted to revel in the moment, wrapped in his arms for eternity. But he drew back, smiling down at her in time for the photographer to snap their picture.

  After that, the evening proceeded in a blur of well wishes, photographs, food and drink.

  Rick, Lauren and Wyn took it upon themselves to tap their toast glasses whenever possible, until it seemed she and Caleb were always pausing to kiss for the delight of others. Lauren caught her bouquet, but Rick snagged her garter, a coupling that made the people who knew the exes howl with laughter.

  As the evening wore down and she began to think of the wedding night ahead, she couldn’t help stealing glances in Caleb’s direction. They’d booked a room at a Victorian B and B in Sagehill. The following day, Caleb would be moving his few possessions into her townhouse.

  That idea saddened her a bit, as his heart would always belong to Weathering Rock. Her townhouse, while comfortable, was too modern and small for him, cramped onto a pitifully tiny parcel of ground. She’d fallen in love with Weathering Rock, enchanted by the old house, and would miss her time there. At least Wyn would let Caleb board Ranger in the barn.