Man...Mercenary...Monarch (Royally Wed)

by Joan Elliott Pickart

  John quickened his step as the cabin came into view, visible in the silvery glow of the moon and the millions of stars in the heavens.

  Laura and Jeremiah were waiting for him in that little house. The woman and the boy he loved beyond measure.

  His family.

  A smile broke across John’s face and he began to run, eager to close the distance separating him from Laura and Jeremiah.

  Jeremiah was surely in his crib asleep by now, he thought, so this was it. He was going to tell Laura that he loved her. He was going to ask Laura to be his wife.

  He was going to humbly request that Laura Bishop allow him to share her rainbow wish…forever.

  Chapter Twelve

  John entered the cabin, then frowned as he closed the door quietly behind him, a wave of disappointment sweeping through him.

  Laura was curled up in the corner of the sofa asleep, her head resting on a throw pillow.

  John shrugged out of his jacket and set it on a chair with his Stetson. He walked quickly down the hall to check on a peacefully sleeping Jeremiah, then returned to the living room.

  He stood next to the sofa, gazing at Laura, visible in the glow of the firelight, filling his senses with the very sight of her.

  He loved this woman, he thought incredulously. As unbelievable as it still seemed to him, he was truly and deeply in love with Laura.

  He wanted to kiss her awake, to declare his love, to ask her to marry him. He wanted to seal their commitment to a future together with a kiss, then make sweet, slow love to her through the hours of the night.

  But, no, that wasn’t fair. Laura wouldn’t have fallen asleep if she wasn’t tired. He’d waited a lifetime for this moment, not even realizing for so many years what had been missing from his existence. He would just have to be patient a while longer, then he’d pour out his heart to Laura.

  He retrieved a blanket from the bedroom, removed Laura’s shoes, then tucked the blanket around her. Leaning over, he kissed her on the forehead.

  “Sleep well, my love,” he whispered.

  He added another log to the fire, then went to bed, eager to sleep the night away to bring the light of the new day.

  “Dada,” Jeremiah yelled. “Mama. Up. Up. Up. Dada-a-a.”

  John jerked upright on the bed, then flopped back onto the pillow in the next instant. He blinked, then flung away the blankets and reached on the floor for his jeans.

  “Mama,” Jeremiah hollered, then began to cry. “Da-a-a-da.”

  “Coming, sport,” John muttered, pulling on and zipping his jeans.

  He strode from the room, then stopped dead in his tracks when he entered the living room. The blanket he’d placed over Laura the previous night was folded neatly on the sofa and her shoes were no longer on the floor. He looked at the door, the sofa, then frowned.

  “Damn,” he said, continuing on his way to Jeremiah’s room.

  Two hours later, Jeremiah had been dressed, fed and the kitchen set to rights. John bundled the baby into his jacket and mittens, put on his own coat and Stetson and headed for the main house in search of Laura.

  When he stepped into the kitchen, Betty turned from the stove.

  “I was just going to come get you,” she said.

  “Oh?” John said, smiling. “Did you make some cinnamon rolls?”

  “No,” Betty said, not returning his smile. “You have company this morning.”

  “Again?” John said, raising his eyebrows. “Who is it? I’ve spoke to all four of my sisters.”

  “Yes, I know you have,” Betty said. “In fact, Elizabeth and Rafe left for home an hour ago. They said to tell you that they’d talk to you again soon.”

  “Then who’s here to see me?” John said.

  “It’s the Reverend Harold Tucker and his wife, Lucy, from town. Reverend Tucker said it was imperative that they speak with you.”

  “Why? What for? I only vaguely remember who they are. It’s been years since I’ve seen them. Well, I did bump into them in town since I’ve been back, but they acted strange…I don’t know…like they were uncomfortable being near me. Why would they show up here?”

  “I have no idea what they want with you,” Betty said, “but Lucy is pale as a ghost, so it must be something important. You best go see what’s on their minds. Give me Jeremiah.”

  John handed over the baby, then removed his own coat and Stetson, placing them on a chair by the table. A strange and chilling sense of foreboding suffused him as he left the kitchen.

  John entered the living room at the same moment that Laura appeared from the hallway. The man and woman who had been sitting on the sofa got to their feet quickly, their eyes darting back and forth between John and Laura.

  Oh, darn, Laura thought. What terrible timing she had. She had hurried from the cabin before John was awake so she wouldn’t have to see him. She’d thought everything through, and come to the conclusion that John was going to propose that they continue their affair. No strings. No commitments. Just keep on…keeping on.

  There was no other conclusion she could come to. She knew his stand on raising Jeremiah alone, had heard him say that Jeremiah was his and no one else’s.

  She just couldn’t bear to hear John say that he wanted her only as his mistress for heaven only knew how long.

  So what did she do? She’d walked into the living room at the exact moment that John did. Well, thank goodness he had company waiting to see him. She could make her escape. No problem.

  Laura was brought back to attention as John made introductions. She said all the required “Pleased to meet yous” as she inched her way toward the door leading to the kitchen. “I’ll leave you folks to chat,” she said, producing a small smile.

  “Yes, thank you,” Reverend Tucker said. “I think it best that we speak with John privately.”

  “Whatever you’ve come to talk to me about can be said in Laura’s presence,” John said. “Let’s all sit down, shall we?”

  “That’s not necessary, John,” Laura said. “This is obviously a private conversation.”

  “Stay,” he said. “Please.”

  Oh, good grief, Laura thought. John knew she wouldn’t cause a scene in front of strangers.

  “Yes, all right,” she said, sighing.

  She sat down on a love seat facing the sofa where the Tuckers were once again perched, her eyes widening for a moment as John settled onto the cushion next to her.

  “Except for those quick hellos in town,” John said to the Tuckers, “it’s been a long time since I’ve seen you both.”

  “Yes,” Harold Tucker said. “Yes, it has.” He cleared his throat. “John, only very recently did Lucy unburden her soul to me regarding an incident that took place years before I met and married her.

  “I convinced her that the proper thing to do was for her to come here to The Rocking C, tell you her story and ask for your forgiveness.”

  “I don’t understand,” John said. “My forgiveness? I don’t think Lucy and I have exchanged more than a dozen words in the past years. How could she have offended me in any way?”

  “It wasn’t something she said,” Harold said. “It was what she did.” He looked at his wife and patted her hand gently. “Lucy? The time has come, my dear. Be strong. Gather your courage.”

  Heavens, Laura thought, that poor woman looked as if she was going to shatter into a million pieces. She was so pale and she was twisting a handkerchief between her trembling hands. What on earth was she about to confess to John?

  Lucy Tucker drew a shuddering breath, then looked directly at John.

  “Please, let me start at the beginning,” the woman said, her voice quivering. “I was the product of a broken home. My mother died when I was sixteen, and I set out on my own, fiercely determined to have the kind of life I’d always dreamed about.

  “But I was so young, inexperienced, vulnerable, and I became involved with a man named Roy Hanes. We…we moved through the Southwest, committing small crimes, staying one step a
head of the authorities.

  “Then Roy decided to make the big time, as he put it,” Lucy went on. “He…he kidnapped a baby, James Wyndham. He kidnapped you, John.”

  “What?” John said, leaning forward. “You were involved in my kidnapping?”

  Lucy nodded, then sniffled. “Yes. Yes, I was. But you must believe me when I say I didn’t have a choice.” Lucy shuddered. “I realized very quickly that it had been a horrible thing to do. I took the baby—took you—and ran away from Roy in the dead of night.

  “Then I learned of the fire that killed Roy, and how everyone believed you were dead. I was so afraid. I didn’t think anyone would believe my story. I kept thinking I’d be sent to prison and my dreams would die. Then I’d be as good as dead.”

  “My God,” John whispered.

  “I tried to care for you, but it wasn’t long before I had to admit to myself that I couldn’t take care of a baby,” Lucy said, tears spilling onto her pale cheeks. “I couldn’t make enough money to feed you, buy you clothes, provide you with a decent place to live.

  “So I wrapped you in the blanket we’d snatched up when we took you, and I left you on the doorstep of The Sunshine Home for Children in my home-town of Hope, Arizona. The Colton family adopted you later.”

  John lunged to his feet. “Why didn’t you come forward and tell everyone that the baby was James Wyndham? Didn’t you give even a moment’s thought to the agony the parents of that baby—my parents—were going through? They thought I was dead, Lucy. Their hearts were broken. How could you keep silent?”

  “I was terribly frightened,” Lucy said, a sob catching in her throat. “I really believed I would be sent to prison for the rest of my life. I watched you grow up as John Colton. You were happy, healthy, had a loving family. In my mind I believed I’d done the right thing by you. But I know now that I was wrong. Unforgivably wrong.”

  “The right thing?” John yelled. “You allowed people to suffer needlessly. Gabriella and Phillip Wyndham believed their son was dead.”

  “I’m sorry, so very sorry.” Lucy covered her face with her hands and wept.

  “John,” Laura said, “please sit down. I realize this has all come as a shock to you, but Lucy has carried this burden within her for so many years. She’s asking you to forgive her. She was so young, John. Young, and foolish, and frightened. What’s done, is done. It’s time to look to the future, not harbor bitterness about the past. Please, John.”

  John dragged one hand through his hair, then sank back onto the love seat with a sigh. He shook his head and stared up at the ceiling for a long moment before looking at Lucy again.

  “You’re right, Laura. Focusing on the past isn’t going to serve any purpose.” John paused. “Lucy, you were just a kid when all this happened. I give you credit for saving me from Roy…and the fire, and for having the courage to come here today to tell the truth. If you’ve come for forgiveness, then know you have it. I don’t want to live my life in the past or dwell on things neither of us can change. Well, thank you for coming.”

  “Bless you, John,” Reverend Tucker said.

  John and the Tuckers got to their feet and John followed them to the front door.

  A chill swept through Laura as she watched the trio cross the room.

  Something was terribly wrong, she thought. John had erupted in anger upon hearing Lucy’s confession, which was very understandable.

  And now? What was he thinking? What was he feeling?

  John closed the door behind the Tuckers, then turned slowly and looked at Laura. She stared at him intently, unable to decipher the expression on his face.

  “John?” she said tentatively. “Are…are you all right?”

  He laughed, the sound a sharp, rough-edged noise that held no trace of real humor.

  “Yeah, sure,” he said gruffly. “I’m dandy, really super. I just sat in a room with the woman who was instrumental in the devastation of my birth parents, and the stripping away of my identity.” He shook his head. “Hell.”

  Laura got to her feet and went to stand in front of John.

  “That’s all in the past, John, just like you said. What’s important is the present and future. You have Jeremiah now, as well as sisters, brothers-in-law and another set of parents.

  “You told Lucy that you forgave her for what she did. You meant that, didn’t you?”

  “Yeah. What’s done is done. Old news, I guess,” John said gruffly.

  “Yes, and now you have the luxury of having options as to where you want to raise your son, and what career you wish to pursue. You are in many ways a very fortunate man.”

  “Nice speech, Laura,” he said, frowning. “Except you left out a big piece from the pretty little picture you just painted.”

  “What piece?” she said, matching his frown.

  “Who in the hell am I?” he said, nearly shouting.

  “Well, you are…” Laura’s voice trailed off.

  “Gotcha, sweetheart. You don’t know, either.”

  “But—”

  “No.” John sliced one hand through the air. “I’ve been fooling myself, thinking that I was actually accepting all of this, getting a handle on it. What a joke.”

  John moved around Laura and began to pace.

  “I’ve mixed up both of my identities, both of my worlds, stirred them into a pot and just took out what suited me, what fit, was comfortable. I hid in that cabin with my son and actually convinced myself that I could have it all, be truly happy for the first time in my life.”

  He stopped and met Laura’s gaze again. Her breath caught as she saw the raw pain in John’s eyes and etched on his face.

  She wanted to go to him, to wrap her arms around him, to tell him he wasn’t alone in his confusion and upset. Tell him she was there for him, would help him find the missing piece to the picture.

  Tell him that she loved him and would stay by his side forever.

  It didn’t matter if he was John Colton or James Wyndham. She was in love with the man he was.

  Tears closed Laura’s throat and she said nothing. Nothing at all.

  “John,” Betty said, coming into the living room. “Jeremiah went to sleep. I put him on one of the beds with pillows around him so he won’t roll off.”

  John nodded. “Okay. Thanks. I’m going to go tell Mitch what happened here with the Tuckers so he and Alex can share the details with Gabriella and Phillip.”

  “What did happen with the Tuckers?” Betty said.

  “Laura will bring you up to date,” he said. “After I talk to Mitch, I’m going for a walk. I need to be alone for a while. I’ll be back to get Jeremiah.”

  Betty nodded as John strode from the room.

  “Gracious,” Betty said, looking at Laura. “John is so tense, he’s crackling, could probably start a brush fire by walking across a field.”

  “He’s extremely upset,” Laura said quietly.

  “What in the blue blazes did that Lucy Tucker say to him?”

  Laura sighed. “I’ll tell you her story, but that’s not what is really bothering John. He just…Oh, Betty, he’s so confused. He doesn’t know who he is.”

  “I see,” Betty said slowly. “Well, he won’t find any peace within himself, any happiness, until he discovers the answer.” She shook her head. “I can only imagine how unsettling it would be to suddenly be told you’re not who you thought you’d been for thirty years. Poor John.”

  “Or is it ‘poor James?”’ Laura said.

  “You’re right. My stars, what a dilemma. The thing is, the conclusions that John comes to, the decisions he makes, will have a profound effect on Jeremiah. As he looks to the future, he has a son to consider, as well as himself.”

  But not a wife, Laura thought dismally. No, there was no wife in that unknown future of John’s. Whichever identity he chose to claim, whatever world he existed in, he would do it only with Jeremiah. Just the two of them.

  She would be on the outside looking in, like a child with her n
ose pressed to the window of a candy store she wasn’t allowed to enter.

  “Laura?” Betty said. “Are you all right, honey? You look a tad upset yourself.”

  “I’m fine.” Laura smiled faintly. “I’ll tell you what Lucy Tucker disclosed, then I’ll go sit by Jeremiah so he won’t be frightened if he wakes up and finds that he’s not in his own crib.”

  “You love that baby, don’t you?”

  “Yes,” Laura whispered. And she loved that baby’s father, always would. “Yes, I do. I love Jeremiah very, very much.”

  John walked across the land of The Rocking C with no particular destination in mind. He simply put one foot in front of the other as he struggled to quiet the cacophony of voices in his head.

  John Colton? James Wyndham? The Rocking C? Wynborough? Jeremiah Colton? Jeremiah Wyndham?

  And what about Laura? he asked himself.

  “I, John James Colton Wyndham, take thee, Laura Bishop…”

  With a snort of disgust, John shook his head.

  Talk about a fantasy. How in the hell did he think he could make Laura happy when he didn’t even know who he was, what it would take to make himself happy?

  There it was. Bottom line.

  He had no right to declare his love to Laura, to ask her to marry him, because he wasn’t free to do that. He was held captive in a maze of confusion and doubts, not even close to knowing what to do, what road to take, what identity to claim, what world to exist in.

  He was a mental and emotional mess, and no one could help him find the answers he so desperately needed.

  He was alone.

  Just as he’d always been.

  John settled onto a large rock and stared at the land that stretched to the horizon.

  The Rocking C, he thought. He’d never fit in here, didn’t belong on this spread. He wasn’t a rancher, a true Colton.

  Would it be more honest and honorable to step up and announce that he didn’t deserve to carry the Colton name and was, therefore, going to be James Wyndham?