A Stone Creek Collection, Volume 2

by Linda Lael Miller

  Melissa looked down at her billowing skirts and shuddered. “I don’t see how,” she said doubtfully.

  A little silence fell.

  Olivia straightened Ashley’s veil.

  “I wish Mom and Dad and Big John could be here,” Ashley admitted softly.

  “I know,” Olivia replied, kissing her cheek.

  The church organist launched into a prelude to “Here Comes the Bride.”

  “Showtime,” Melissa said, giving Ashley a quick squeeze. “Be happy.”

  Ashley nodded, blinking. She couldn’t cry now. It would make her mascara run.

  A rap sounded at the office door, and Brad entered at Olivia’s “Come in,” looking beyond handsome in his tuxedo. “Ready to be given away?” he asked solemnly, his gaze resting on Ashley in surprised bemusement, as though she’d just changed from a little girl to a woman before his very eyes. A grin crooked up a corner of his mouth. “We can always duck out the back door and make a run for it if you’ve changed your mind.”

  Ashley smiled, shook her head. Walked over to her brother.

  Brad kissed her forehead, then lowered the front of the veil. “Jack McKenzie is one lucky man,” he said gravely, but a genuine smile danced in his eyes. “Gonna be okay?”

  Ashley took his arm. “Gonna be okay,” she confirmed.

  “We’re supposed to go down the aisle first,” Melissa said, grabbing Olivia’s hand and dragging her past Brad and Ashley, through the open doorway, and into the corridor that opened at both ends of the small church.

  “Is he out there?” Ashley whispered to Brad, suddenly nervous, as he escorted her over the threshold between one life and another.

  “Jack?” Brad pretended not to remember. “I’m pretty sure I spotted him up front, with Tanner beside him. Guess it could have been the pastor, though.” He paused for dramatic effect. “Oh, yeah. The pastor’s wearing robes. The man I saw was in a tuxedo, tugging at his collar every couple of seconds.”

  “Stop it,” Ashley said, but she was smiling. “I’m nervous enough without you giving me a hard time, big brother.”

  They joined Melissa and Olivia at the back of the church.

  Over their heads, and through a shifting haze of veil, extreme anticipation, and almost overwhelming joy, Ashley saw Jack standing up front, his back straight, his head high with pride.

  In just two weeks, he’d come a long way toward a full recovery, filling out, his color returning. He claimed it was the restorative power of good sex.

  Ashley blushed, remembering some of that sex, and looking forward to a lot more of it.

  The organist struck the keys with renewed vigor.

  “There’s our cue,” Brad whispered to Ashley, bending his head slightly so she could hear.

  “Go!” Melissa said to Olivia, giving her a little push.

  Olivia moved slowly up the aisle, between pews jammed with McKenzies, O’Ballivans, McKettricks, and assorted friends.

  Just before starting up the aisle herself, Melissa turned, found Ashley’s hand under the bouquet of snow-white peonies Brad had had flown in from God-knew-where and squeezed it hard.

  “Go,” Brad told Melissa, with a chuckle.

  She made a face at him and started resolutely up the aisle.

  Once she and Olivia were both in front of the altar, opposite Jack and Tanner, the organist pounded the keys with even more vigor than before. Ashley floated toward the altar, gripping Brad’s strong arm, her gaze fixed on Jack.

  The guests rose to their feet, beaming at Ashley.

  Jack smiled, encouraged her with a wink.

  And then she was at his side.

  She heard the minister ask, “Who giveth this woman in marriage?”

  Heard Brad answer, “Her family and I.”

  Ashley’s eyes began to smart again, and she wondered if anyone had ever died of an overdose of happiness.

  Brad retreated, and after that, Ashley was only peripherally aware of her surroundings. Her entire focus was on Jack.

  Somehow, she got through the vows.

  She and Jack exchanged rings.

  And then the minister pronounced them man and wife.

  Jack raised the front of Ashley’s veil to kiss her, and his eyes widened a little, in obvious appreciation, when he saw that she’d forsworn her usual French braid for a shoulder-length style that stood out around her face.

  She’d spent the morning at Cora’s Curl and Twirl over in Indian Rock, Cora herself doing the honors, snipping and blow-drying and phoofing endlessly.

  The wedding kiss was chaste, at least in appearance.

  Up close and personal, it was nearly orgasmic.

  “Ladies and gentlemen,” the minister said triumphantly, raising his voice to be heard at the back of the church, “may I present Mr. and Mrs. Jack McKenzie!”

  Cheers erupted.

  The organ thundered.

  Jack and Ashley hurried down the aisle, emerging into the sunlight, and were showered with birdseed and good wishes.

  The reception, held at the bed-and-breakfast, was everything a bride could hope for. Even the weather cooperated; the snow had melted, the sun was out, the sky cloudless and heartbreakingly blue.

  “I ordered a sunny day just for you,” Jack whispered to her, as he helped her out of the limo in front of the house.

  For the next two hours, the place was crammed to the walls with wedding guests. Pictures were taken, punch and cake were served. So many congratulatory hugs, kisses and handshakes came their way that Ashley began to wish the thing would end already.

  She and Jack would spend their wedding night right there at home, although they were leaving on their honeymoon the next day.

  The sky was beginning to darken toward twilight when the guests began to leave, one by one, couple by couple, and then in groups.

  Bill and Abigail McKenzie and their large extended family would occupy all the guestrooms at the bed-and-breakfast, so they lingered, somewhat at loose ends until Brad diplomatically invited them out to Stone Creek Ranch, where the party would continue.

  Goodbyes were said.

  Except for the caterers, already cleaning up, Melissa was the last to leave.

  “I may never forgive you for this wretched dress,” she told Ashley, tearing up.

  “Maybe you’ll get back at me one of these days,” Ashley answered softly, as Jack moved away to give the twins room to say their farewells. Melissa planned to drive to Scottsdale that same night. “You’ll be the bride, and I’ll be the one who has to look like a giant parakeet.”

  Melissa huffed out a breath, shook her head. “I think you’re safe from that horrid fate,” she said wistfully. “I plan to throw myself into my career. Before you know it, I’ll be a Supreme Court Justice, just as you said.” She gave a wobbly little smile that didn’t quite stick. “At least my memoirs will probably be interesting.”

  Ashley kissed her sister’s cheek. “Take care,” she said.

  Melissa chuckled. “As soon as I swap this dress for a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt, and the heels for sneakers, I’ll be golden.”

  With that, Melissa headed for the downstairs powder room, where she’d stashed her getaway clothes.

  When she emerged, she was dressed for the road, and the ruffly yellow gown was wadded into a bundle under her right arm.

  “Will you still love me if I toss this thing into the first Dumpster I see?” she quipped, as she and Ashley stood at the front door.

  “I’ll still love you,” Ashley said, “no matter what.”

  Melissa gave a brave sniffle. “See you around, Mrs. McKenzie,” she said.

  And then she opened the front door, dashed across the porch and down the front steps, and along the walk. She got into her little red sports car, w
hich looked too small to pull a trailer, tossed the offending bridesmaid’s dress onto the passenger seat and waved.

  Jack was standing right behind Ashley when she turned from closing the door, and he kissed her briefly on the mouth. “She’s an O’Ballivan,” he said. “She’ll be all right.”

  Ashley nodded. Swallowed.

  “The caterers will be out of here in a few minutes,” Jack told her, with a twinkle. “I promised to overtip if they’d just kick it up a notch. Wouldn’t you like to get out of that dress, beautiful as it is?”

  She stood on tiptoe, kissed the cleft in her husband’s chin. “I might need some help,” she told him sweetly. “It has about a million buttons down the back.”

  Jack chuckled. “I’m just the man for the job,” he said.

  Mrs. Wiggins came, twitchy-tailed, out of the study, where she’d probably been hiding from the hubbub of the reception, batted playfully at the lace trim on the hem of Ashley’s wedding gown.

  “No you don’t,” she told the kitten, hoisting the little creature up so they were nose to nose, she and Mrs. Wiggins. “This dress is going to be an heirloom. Someday, another bride will wear it.”

  “Our daughter,” Jack said, musing. “If she’s as beautiful as her mother, every little boy under the age of five ought to be warned.”

  Ashley smiled, still holding Mrs. Wiggins. “Get rid of the caterers,” she said, and headed for the stairs.

  Barely a minute later, she was inside the room that had been hers alone, until today—not that she and Jack hadn’t shared it every night since they got back from Chicago.

  The last wintry light glowed at the windows, turning the antique lace curtains to gold. White rose petals covered the bed, and someone had laid a fire on the hearth, too.

  Their suitcases stood just outside the closet door, packed and ready to go. Tomorrow at this time, she and Jack would be in Hawaii, soaking up a month of sunshine.

  Ashley’s heart quickened. She put a hand to her throat briefly, feeling strangely like a virgin, untouched, eager to be deflowered, and a little nervous at the prospect.

  The room looked the same, and yet different, now that she and Jack were married.

  Married. Not so long ago, she’d pretty much given up on marriage—and then Jack “McCall” had arrived by ambulance, looking for a place to heal.

  So much had happened since then, some of it terrifying, most of it better than good.

  Mrs. Wiggins leaped up onto a slipper chair near the fireplace and curled up for a long winter’s snooze.

  Carefully, Ashley removed the tiara that held her veil in place and set the mound of gossamer netting aside. She stood in front of the bureau mirror and fluffed out her hair with the fingers of both hands.

  Her cheeks glowed, and so did her eyes.

  The door opened softly, and Jack came into the room, no tuxedo jacket in evidence, unfastening his cuff links as he walked toward Ashley. Setting the cuff links aside on the dresser top, he took her into his arms, buried his hands in her hair, and kissed her thoroughly.

  Ashley’s knees melted, just as they always did.

  Eventually, Jack tore his mouth from hers, turned her around, and began unfastening the buttons at the back of her dress. In the process, he bent to nibble at her skin as he bared it, leaving tiny trails of fire along her shoulder blades, her spine and finally the small of her back.

  The dress fell in a pool at her feet, leaving her in her petticoat, bra, panty hose and high heels.

  She shivered, not with fear or cold, but with eagerness. She wanted to give herself to Jack—as his wife.

  But he left her, untucking his white dress shirt as he went. Crouched in front of the fireplace to light a blaze on the hearth.

  Another blaze already burned inside Ashley.

  Jack straightened, unfastened his cummerbund with a grin of relief, and tossed it aside. Started removing his shirt.

  His eyes smoldered as he took Ashley in, slowly, his gaze traveling from her head to her feet and then back up again.

  As if hypnotized, she unhooked her bra, let her breasts spill into Jack’s full view. His eyes went wide as her nipples hardened, eager for his lips and tongue.

  It seemed to take forever, this shedding of clothes, garment by garment, but finally they were both naked, and the fire snapped merrily in the grate, and Jack eased Ashley down onto the bed.

  Because of her pregnancy—news they had yet to share with the rest of the family, because it was too new and too precious—his lovemaking was poignantly gentle.

  He parted her legs, bent her knees, ran his hands from there to her ankles.

  Ashley murmured, knowing what he was going to do, needing it, needing him.

  He nuzzled her, parted the curls at the juncture of her thighs, and his sigh of contented anticipation reverberated through her entire system.

  She tangled her fingers in his hair, held him close.

  He chuckled against her flesh, and she moaned.

  And then he took her full in his mouth, now nibbling, now suckling, and Ashley arched her back and cried out in surrender.

  “Not so fast,” Jack murmured, between teasing flicks of his tongue. “Let it happen slowly, Mrs. McKenzie.”

  “I—I don’t think I—can wait—”

  Jack turned his head, dragged his lips along the length of her inner thigh, nipped at her lightly as he crossed to the other side. “You can wait,” he told her.

  “Please, Jack,” she half sobbed.

  He slid his hands under her bare bottom, lifted her high, and partook of her with lusty appreciation.

  She exploded almost instantaneously, her body flexing powerfully, once, twice, a third time.

  And then she fell, sighing, back to the bed.

  He was kissing her lower belly, where their baby was growing, warm and safe and sheltered.

  “I love you, Jack,” Ashley said, weak with the force of her releases.

  He turned her to lie full length on the bed, poised himself over her, took her in a slow, even stroke.

  “Always have,” she added, trying to catch her breath and failing. “Always will.”

  EPILOGUE

  December 24

  Stone Creek, Arizona

  Jack McKenzie stood next to his daughter’s crib, gazing down at her in wonder. Katie—named for his grandmother—was nearly three months old now, and she looked more like Ashley every day. Although the baby was too young to understand Christmas, they’d hung up a stocking for her, just the same.

  The door of his and Ashley’s bedroom opened quietly behind him.

  “The doctor is on the phone,” she said quietly.

  Jack turned, took her in, marveled anew, the way he did every time he saw his wife, that it was possible to go to sleep at night loving a woman so much, and wake up loving her even more.

  “Okay,” he said.

  She approached, held out the cell phone he’d left downstairs when he brought Katie up to bed. They’d been putting the finishing touches on the Christmas tree by the front windows, he and Ashley, and the place was decorated to the hilt, though there would be no paying guests over the holidays.

  Busy with a new baby, not to mention a husband, Ashley had decided to take at least a year off from running the bed-and-breakfast. She still cooked like a French chef, which was probably why he’d gained ten pounds since they’d gotten married, and she was practically an expert on the computer.

  So far, she didn’t seem to miss running a business.

  She’d been baking all day, since half the family would be there for a special Christmas Eve supper, after the early services at the church.

  They’d stayed home, waiting for the call.

  He took the cell phone, cleared his throat, said hello.

 
Ashley moved close to him, leaned against his side, somehow supporting him at the same time. Her head rested, fragrant, against his shoulder.

  He kissed her crown, drew in the scent of her hair.

  “This is Dr. Schaefer,” a man said, as if Jack needed to be told. He and Ashley had been bracing themselves for this call ever since Jack’s last visit to the clinic up in Flagstaff, a few days before, where they’d run the latest series of tests.

  “Yes,” Jack said, his voice raspy. Wrapping one arm around Ashley’s waist. He felt fine, but that didn’t mean he was out of danger.

  And there was so very much at stake.

  “All the results are normal, Mr. McKenzie,” he heard Dr. Schaefer say, as though chanting the words through an underwater tunnel. “I think we can safely assume the marrow transplant was a complete success, and so were the antirejection medications.”

  Jack closed his eyes. “Normal,” he repeated, for Ashley’s benefit as well as his own.

  She squeezed him hard.

  “Thanks, Doctor,” he said.

  A smile warmed the other man’s voice. “Have a Merry Christmas,” the doctor said. “Not that you need to be told.”

  “You, too,” Jack said. “And thanks again.”

  He closed the phone, tucked it into the pocket of his shirt, turned to take Ashley into his arms.

  “Guess what, Mrs. McKenzie,” he said. “We have a future together. You and me and Katie. A long one, I expect.”

  She beamed up at him, her eyes wet.

  Downstairs, the doorbell chimed.

  Ashley squeezed Jack’s hand once, crossed to the crib, and tucked Katie’s blanket in around her.

  “I suppose they’ll let themselves in,” Jack said, watching her with the same grateful amazement he always felt.

  Ashley smiled, and came back to his side, and they went down the stairs together, hand in hand.

  Brad and Meg, with Carly and Mac and the new baby, Eva, stood in the entryway, smiling, snow dusting the shoulders of their coats and gleaming in their hair.

  Olivia and Tanner arrived only moments later, with the twins, who were walking now, and Sophie.