Hasty Wedding

by Debbie Macomber

  “Ah, yes, I seem to remember something about that now. How was the wedding? Oh, before I forget, I have a gift for Erin and Gary at the house. Don’t let me forget to give it to her when she returns. I don’t suppose you happen to know when they’ll be back?”

  “In a couple of weeks.”

  If Clare had ever needed her best friend it was now. Erin had a way of putting everything into perspective.

  “Tell me what’s going on between you and Jack?” her mother continued.

  “Nothing,” Clare returned starkly, not wanting to ruin her day by discussing something so unpleasant.

  “But I liked him, Clare. Both your father and I feel he’ll make you a good husband.”

  “I’m sorry to disappoint you, but I don’t want to have anything to do with Jack. He’s out of my life, only he hasn’t seemed to figure it out yet. Apparently he phoned Dad looking to make trouble.”

  Ellie settled back in her chair. “You know I think your father must have felt the same thing. I asked him about the call and he got short-tempered with me, then later he said he wasn’t that sure Jack was the man for you after all.”

  “I spent a couple of days with Reed Tonasket,” Clare said, hoping to sound nonchalant and conversational. “I like him very much.”

  Clare carefully watched her mother’s reaction, but she read none of what she expected. Not concern, and certainly not anxiety.

  “Isn’t he the one who does such an excellent job of carving totem poles?”

  “Yes,” Clare answered quickly. “I haven’t seen any of his work, but Erin says he’s very talented.”

  “It seems I read something about him not long ago in one of those regional publications.”

  “Really?” Funny Clare hadn’t seen the piece, especially since the library subscribed to several area publications.

  “How would you and Dad feel if I were to start dating Reed?” Clare asked, diving headfirst into what she feared were shark-infested waters. Times had changed and so had attitudes. Her parents’ generation had a difficult time adjusting to new attitudes.

  Her mother’s chin came up abruptly and her gaze clashed with Clare’s. “You’re not asking for my permission, are you?”

  “No,” Clare admitted honestly.

  “Then it doesn’t matter what your father and I think, does it?”

  “No, but I’d like to know your feelings.”

  Her mother’s sigh was deep enough to raise her shoulders. “You’re over thirty years old, Clare. Your father and I finished raising you a long time ago. If you want to become involved with Reed Tonasket, that’s your business. I just can’t help thinking—‣ She stopped abruptly. “I’m not even going to say it.”

  Clare knew without her mother having to say it; nevertheless, she was glad to have aired the subject with her mother. She knew exactly where they both stood.

  Needless to say, her family hadn’t a clue that she’d done a whole lot more than date Reed. He was their son-in-law…at least for the present.

  The lunch with her mother freed Clare. Afterward she felt jubilant that the groundwork for her marriage to Reed had been laid with her family. Clare didn’t doubt for an instant that her mother would return home and repeat their conversation with Leonard. Within a week or less, everyone in the family would know she’d broken up with Jack Kingston. They’d also know she was interested in Reed Tonasket.

  The urge to see Reed took hold of Clare when she left the restaurant. She stopped first at the house and grabbed the directions Reed had given her to his home, then took a leisurely drive into Port Angeles, where few people knew her.

  By the time she turned onto reservation land, some of her bravado had left her. She’d been on the Skyute reservation countless times over the years. The tribal center there was one of the best in the Pacific Northwest and attracted a lot of tourist traffic.

  The road twisted and curved beside the Strait of Juan de Fuca and the breeze blew in gently from the cool green waters. Colorful wind socks flapped wildly, and several Native American children played contentedly in the rows of homes that bordered the paved road.

  Fishing nets were set out to dry in the warm afternoon sun. Clare noticed a few curious stares as she followed the directions Reed had written out for her.

  His cabin, for it could be called little else, sat back in the woods, surrounded by lush green fir trees in what was part of a Pacific Northwest rain forest. Reed explained that he didn’t have a phone, and from the looks of the place, she doubted that he had electricity, either.

  The dirt road that led to his home was dry now, but Clare could only imagine what the rut-filled path would be like in the dead of winter, washed out by repeated rainstorms.

  She parked her car next to Reed’s truck, and after a moment or two, climbed out. Glancing around, she was relieved to find he didn’t have a dog, at least none that revealed any interest in her.

  No one seemed to be around. She stood next to her car for several minutes, thinking Reed would hear her and come, but that didn’t seem to be happening.

  Her knock against the rough wooden door went unanswered. After coming all this way, she didn’t intend on being easily thwarted. They were married, after all, and as his wife, surely she had the right to go inside his—their—home.

  The door was released with a twist of the knob. She let it open completely before she stepped inside. It took her eyes a moment to adjust to the dark, and what she found caught her by surprise. Reed’s home was as modern as her own, perhaps more so, with large windows that looked out over the strait. Far in the distance she caught sight of Vancouver Island.

  His sofa and chair were angled in front of a large basalt fireplace. A thick braided rug rested on the polished hardwood floor. Several oil paintings decorated the walls, and her gaze was drawn to them. She wondered if Reed was the artist.

  The kitchen was to her left, the room huge and open. The bedrooms, she guessed, were down a narrow hallway that led from the living room.

  It was apparent Reed was close, since there was a cast-iron kettle heating on the stove. Investigating, Clare discovered he was cooking some kind of stew. It smelled wonderful. Her husband was probably a better cook than she was.

  Setting her purse aside, she decided to make herself at home. She reached for a magazine and sat in the deep overstuffed chair to wait for Reed.

  It didn’t take him long. She heard him even before he came through the door, his steps heavy on the wooden porch.

  “Clare.” He was inside the cabin in three strides.

  He wasn’t wearing a shirt, and his skin gleamed with a sheen of perspiration. He wore his hair straight with a leather band tied around his forehead. He looked all male, and Clare’s heart stopped dead at the virile sight of him.

  “Hi,” she greeted with a warm smile. “I…I thought you might want to know if I was pregnant or not.”

  Chapter Seven

  “Are you pregnant?” Reed asked. The vision of Clare carrying his child, her abdomen swollen with the fruit of his love, was deeply rooted in his heart. A vision he dared not entertain.

  “I…I don’t know yet. I bought one of those home pregnancy tests.”

  “In Tullue?” Reed’s concern was immediate. With Clare living in such a small town, news of her purchase could create excess talk.

  “No…I drove to Port Angeles, to a drugstore there. I didn’t see anyone I knew.”

  “Good.”

  Her eyes flickered, and for an instant Reed thought he might have witnessed a flash of pain. If that was so, he didn’t understand it.

  “I read over the instructions,” she said somewhat stiffly, further confusing him. “We’ll know within a few minutes.” She reached for her purse and took out a small brown bag. Inside was test kit. “It only seemed fitting that we do this together.”

  “You’re angry?” he asked softly.

  The way her eyes widened revealed her surprise. “Not angry…nervous, I guess. I could have waited and let nature tell
us in due course, but I wanted to know and I assumed you would, too.”

  “I do.” Reed had difficulty identifying the wide range of emotions that warred inside him. His first thought was one of eager anticipation. But Clare bearing his child left his heart and his life wide open. He wouldn’t be capable of hiding his joy or his love for her and their child.

  If Clare was pregnant, Reed decided he’d move her here with him, shield her from the prejudice and small thinking that had haunted him most of his life. He’d do everything possible to protect her from outside influences.

  If the test proved to be negative, he’d follow through with the divorce proceedings. He’d already left one phone message with the Seattle attorney, but he’d make another call on Monday morning.

  “Are you ready?”

  As ready as he was likely to get.

  She hesitated, studying him. “I had lunch with my mother this afternoon,” she said casually.

  An odd inflection in her voice caught his attention. Either there was some meaning behind her words, or she was hiding her mother’s reaction from him.

  “Yes?” he prompted, when she didn’t continue right away.

  “I almost told her we were married, but I didn’t, I couldn’t…because you’re so sure about this divorce thing. I’m happy to be your wife…and it’s getting difficult to pretend you don’t mean anything to me when you do.”

  “How much did you tell your mother?”

  Clare’s gaze fell to the floor. “I told her that I…I wanted to date you.”

  Reed stiffened. He could well imagine Mrs. Gilroy’s reaction to that. It angered him that Clare had approached her family, knowing their approval meant a good deal to her. Needless to say, they wouldn’t sanction him as a son-in-law.

  “I know you’d rather I kept everything a deep, dark secret, but I’ve never been one to play games. We’re married, and have been for a week now. I’m not going to conveniently forget it because you happen to have had a change of heart.”

  “What happened with your mother?” he asked again. Her purpose in coming to his home was clear to him now. The pregnancy test was an excuse. This visit had been prompted by the conversation with her mother.

  “She said I was old enough to decide whom I dated and we left it at that.”

  “She wasn’t pleased.” Reed made the statement because there was no doubt in his mind of what had been left unsaid between mother and daughter.

  Clare didn’t answer him, and while she was preparing for the pregnancy test he went outside and stood on the porch. She joined him a few moments later.

  “We’ll need to wait a few minutes.”

  Reed had the impression they were going to be the longest minutes of his life.

  And hers.

  “It’s beautiful out here,” Clare said, wrapping her arm around the post and staring into the lush green growth of rain forest.

  Reed glanced to the heavens. The clouds were rolling in, darkening the afternoon sky. A squall would follow shortly. He’d best put his tools away, close up shop and keep Clare with him until after the storm.

  Without explanation, he started to walk away from her and she called after him. “Where are you going?”

  “To my shop. I need to do a few things.”

  “Can I come with you? Even a few minutes can seem like a long time when you’re alone.”

  He nodded, knowing in his heart he would treasure every moment of her company the rest of his life. These were precious gifts not to be taken for granted. He hadn’t meant to be rude, nor had he intended to exclude her. He simply wasn’t accustomed to company, nor was it his way to announce his intentions.

  Clare stood a little proud, a little unsure, a few feet from him.

  “I’d like to show you my shop,” he said, and was rewarded with a smile that seemed to come from the deepest reaches of her heart.

  She slipped her hand into his, and the unexpectedness of the action caught him by surprise. He didn’t have time to steel himself against her touch, and his hand automatically tightened around hers. He couldn’t be with Clare and not want her physically. She’d be in his home several hours, from the look of those clouds, and he wondered how he was going to manage to keep from making love to her…especially if she was already nurturing his child.

  “I didn’t even know this building was back here,” Clare said as they entered the large shop. The log had been cut only a few days earlier, and the scent of cedar permeated the air. Reed had been working on it most of the afternoon. It resembled little more than a long, slightly square red block at this point, but within a few weeks it would be shaped into an eight-foot thunderbird, bear and salmon. The city of Los Angeles had commissioned it for a park that was to be dedicated in early September.

  Reed was pleased with his progress so far, although it revealed little of what the finished product would be like.

  “I’m afraid I don’t know very much about totem poles,” Clare said, walking around the cedar log. Her fingertips glazed the ears, face and beak, which were partially shaped from the square wood.

  “In our culture totem poles were a substitute for the written word,” Reed explained. “Several hundred years ago they revealed the history of a man, his clan and any war victories or favorable events.”

  “And today?” Clare wanted to know.

  “Today they decorate the entrances of parks.”

  “That’s where this one will go?”

  Reed nodded.

  “What’s it going to be?”

  Reed carefully explained the design, pointing out the beak of the thunderbird, the shape of bear and the salmon.

  “Do those mean anything?”

  Reed gauged her question carefully, wondering if her interest was a polite curiosity or genuine. Her eyes met his and he realized her sincerity.

  “The thunderbird is a guardian spirit, the benevolent protector of all Native Americans. The bear portrays immense strength and is capable of performing great feats of skill and daring.”

  “And the salmon?” she promoted.

  “The salmon is the symbol of fertility, immortality and wealth.” He mentioned several other of the more frequent symbols used by totem pole carvers. The raven, the owl, the loon, casually telling her of the totem poles he’d been commissioned to build through the years.

  “I didn’t realize how well-known your work has become. My mother mentioned reading about you in an article in Washingtonian magazine. I must have missed the piece.”

  As she spoke, Reed gathered his chisels and hammers and the other instruments that were strewn about the shop.

  “I was surprised the local paper didn’t pick up on the article and write one of their own.” She frowned as she said it, as though irritated that Tullue would slight him.

  “They asked for an interview. I declined.”

  “But why?”

  Reed shrugged. “I’m known as a half-breed hellion in Tullue. I couldn’t see any reason to correct their impression.”

  “But—”

  “Shall we go back to the house?” he asked, interrupting her. This wasn’t a subject he wanted to discuss. No amount of success would change Tullue’s view of him. In the eyes of the town he was a troublemaker, and if that was what they chose to believe, he wasn’t going to disillusion them with the truth.

  Clare was strangely quiet as they walked back to the house. He wasn’t sure what to make of her mood, and because he was uncertain, he quietly assembled the wood to build a fire.

  “What’s this?” Clare asked after a few moments. “I saw it earlier and wondered. It’s so beautiful.”

  She held up a small totem pole he’d carved three years earlier, one made of black walnut wood. He’d carved a rainbow, an eagle and a salmon. The totem was rich with meaning because it represented Clare in his eyes. Laughing Rainbow.

  “I carved that several years ago.”

  “A rainbow?”

  “Yes,” he said, squatting down in front of the basalt firepla
ce to build a fire. “You can keep it if you wish.” Although the offer was made in an offhanded manner, it would mean a great deal to him if Clare would accept the gift. He’d made it with her in mind, spending several months on the intricate details of the carving. It seemed a small return for all that she’d | given him. She continued to wear the ring he’d given her, and, despite his determination to go through with the divorce, he was pleased she had his ring.

  “Reed, I couldn’t keep this.”

  “Please. I want you to have it.”

  “Then I accept. It really is very beautiful. Thank you.”

  The flames were flickering hungrily at the dry kindling when Reed stood. “I’ll only be a few minutes,” he said, excusing himself. He needed to wash and put on a shirt.

  By the time he returned, the living room had darkened considerably with the approaching storm. Clare was standing in front of the window, her back to him. He could tell even before she turned around that she was troubled.

  “Clare?”

  “The test…it’s negative. I’m not pregnant.”

  Her voice was a low monotone, and when she didn’t immediately turn around, Reed went to her. She must have sensed he was behind her because she turned and wrapped her arms around his middle and buried her face in his chest. Instinctively he held her and he slowly closed his eyes, savoring the spontaneous way in which she’d reached out to him.

  “Are you disappointed?” he asked softly, pushing the hair from the side of her face. The pregnancy test results left him with mixed feelings. He didn’t have time to contend with those, not when Clare was snuggling in his arms. She was warm and delicate, and the feel of her caused his heart to beat slow and hard, building a heavy need within him.

  “I…don’t know,” she answered with frank honesty. “Now isn’t the time for me to be pregnant, especially when our marriage is so uncertain. It would have created a problem, but in other…”

  “Yes,” he prompted when she didn’t immediately finish.

  “It might have solved problems, too.”

  “How’s that?”

  “You might not be so eager to be rid of me.” The hurt in her voice wrapped itself around him like new rope. She didn’t understand and he couldn’t explain. Every time he held her or kissed her made leaving her more difficult. He couldn’t allow himself the luxury of becoming accustomed to her presence in his life.