Surrendered (Intrique Under Western Skies Book 2)

by Elaine Manders

  She followed the other ladies into the parlor and stopped in front of Colt. “How handsome you look. If Rhyan doesn’t show up, I’ll just marry you.” She meant to tease, though the handsome part certainly fit. From his gleaming honey colored hair to his shiny black shoes and well-fitted formal black suit, white shirt and intricately folded tie, he was the second best looking man she’d ever seen.

  He quirked a warm smile. “Thank you, but I think we both know there’s not a chance in the world Rhyan isn’t waiting for you at the altar right now.”

  All doubt vanished as her lips tipped upward. Not a chance in the world. “Why are you here? I thought you were Rhyan’s best man.”

  “No, his brother is best man. I’m giving you away…if you don’t mind.”

  “Mind? Who’d be more suited than my brother?”

  They moved onto the porch, and she laid her hand on his offered arm. Warm air bathed them with the scent of a thousand flowers. She stopped, astonished at the crowds lining the street for as far as she could see. A black and yellow open carriage with large brass trimmed wheels, harnessed to perfectly matched, black thoroughbreds waited for the ladies to embark. And there were photographers, already positioned under their covers.

  As if he’d noticed how taken aback she was, Colt leaned in to whisper, “This is his world, Carianne.”

  She drew in a lungful of sweet air. “I know.” The thought thrilled her.

  Rachel waited in the yard with Becky and another girl dressed out in lilac and white with flower-trimmed straw hats. “We’ll be walking in front of you, Carianne.”

  “Miss Carianne, this is my friend, Ellie. She and I are both bridesmaids and flower girls.” Becky held up her basket filled with pink tea roses. The other little girl giggled, swinging her matching basket.

  “I couldn’t have two prettier attendants,” Carianne said. Rachel had explained the procession several times. The church wasn’t all that far, but she hoped the children didn’t tire along the way.

  “Come girls,” Rachel called, getting in line behind the carriage. “We’re ready.”

  Colt tugged her arm and they cleared the steps. “You ride on Dasher.”

  The huge ebony stallion moved into view, flower bedecked with a leather and silver side saddle anchored in place.

  She patted the horse’s nose, and he bobbed his head in recognition. “He’s beautiful, but if he knew what he looked like, he’d be scandalized.”

  “Lucky for us, he just likes the attention.” Colt lifted her into the saddle and helped her settle her voluminous skirt and train.

  From her vantage point atop the tall horse, she felt all eyes on her. The full impact of clamor came from all directions. For the first time in her life she could relate to a fish in the goldfish bowl. Conversation buzzed, punctuated with shouting, all in front of the backdrop of the wedding bells calling them with increasing urgency.

  She’d remember this moment until the end of her life, and these people would remember too.

  To whom much is given, much is required.

  God required much of Rhyan and her, and these people expected much. Please God, help us to deliver.

  Carianne gripped the pommel with her left hand and waved with her right.

  “We’ll have to stop three or four times for the photographers.” Colt gathered Dasher’s lead and turned to follow behind Rachel.

  They left the cover of the shade, and streaming sunlight reflected on the jewels of her dress and crown. Sparkling. Shining. Shimmering. The townspeople must be astonished to see the rather ordinary Carianne transformed to a vision of such grandeur. Grown people clapped, children cheered, and young girls stood with their hands pressed to their chests, mouths hanging open.

  Her small bridesmaids skipped from one side to the other, bestowing flowers to the young ladies, probably at Rachel’s direction. Later on, they merely tossed their flowers into the crowds.

  They moved from residential street to Main Street where ribbons and flowers decorated hitching posts, and wreaths hung on storefronts. The good pastor had been right. This wedding was as much for the people as for her and Rhyan. All these visitors lining the streets would fondly remember the little town of Westerfield.

  The procession was a long one, and Carianne hoped her flower girls wouldn’t give out. Her arms began to ache from the waving, her mouth stiff from the smiling. Finally, the church came into view, and her heart began to race.

  Chapter 28

  People clustered around the entrance of the small church parted like the Red Sea as her attendants approached. The ringing of the bells ceased, followed by a moment of silence as poignant as if the whole world held its breath.

  Before she realized it, Colt was reaching to assist her to the ground. “Are you ready?”

  Her tired lips smiled. “More than ready.”

  Rachel and the little girls waited in position at the top steps. She scooted around them to adjust Carianne’s gown one last time, then rushed back to whisper some last minute instructions to the fidgeting girls.

  Carianne closed her eyes for a moment. All the emotions of the day came surging back when the strains of the organ sounded the Wedding March, and she clung onto Colt’s arm for support.

  The dim church auditorium contrasted with the bright sunshine outside. After Carianne’s eyes adjusted to the reduced light, she swept her gaze over the standing congregation. Emma and Aunt Jewell stood together, both weeping into lace handkerchiefs.

  Afraid she’d cry herself, Carianne focused on the front of the church. The pastor was resplendent in a ceremonial robe, and the unpretentious Brother Hal in a new business suit stood beside him.

  Brother Hal would be bringing the sermon and Pastor Eckert would officiate the vows.

  She allowed a brief glance at the man standing beside Rhyan—her soon-to-be brother-in-law. He was almost as tall and with coloring similar to Rhyan, but not as handsome. Who could be?

  As iron is drawn to a magnet, her eyes lifted to stare into her groom’s eyes, then it was impossible to look anywhere else. If Colt wasn’t holding her, she might have dashed down the aisle.

  When Colt placed her hand into that of her husband-to-be, a quiver settled in her middle. After all the doubting, hoping, dreaming, waiting, the time had come.

  Rhyan leaned in to whisper in her ear. “I wish we’d eloped.”

  She smothered a laugh, knowing he was trying to break the tension. Another thing she loved about him.

  They kneeled for prayer, and Brother Hal took the lectern. His deep, resonating voice held them spellbound. As she expected, he had no intention of letting a roomful of captured people get away without a long sermon.

  The beautiful, solemn words filled the small building. “Ladies and gentlemen, we are called together this day to celebrate a wedding. We are reminded that the Lord Jesus Christ celebrated weddings, as witnessed by his first miracle at Cana. Every wedding is a miracle where two become one through the power of love.

  “A man is to leave his parents and cleave to his wife, to adhere to her in a way that they are no longer twain, but one. We, the church, will stand as the bride of Christ one day at the greatest wedding of all and become one with Him forever.”

  He went on from there to the meaning of unity, duty, and love. Rhyan pressed her hand, and she blinked the mist from her eyes. Unity. Duty. Love. That would be their motto.

  Brother Hal concluded his sermon and turned to them. “We thank you, Rhyan and Carianne for allowing us to witness the great miracle that binds you together as one for as long as you both shall live.”

  After a litany of poignant hymns, Pastor Eckert addressed them. Almost abruptly, he began the vows. Rhyan’s responses were strong, hers breathless. The love she saw in his eyes was so mesmerizing, she hardly heard when the pastor pronounced them man and wife.

  Pastor Eckert didn’t invite Rhyan to kiss her, but he did—a light brush of the lips. Then he did the unexpected, which was so like him. So perfect for the moment. He
swept her in his arms and carried her out to the resonating melody of the recessional.

  At the door, they paused for a half dozen cameramen to snap their picture—a picture that would probably grace the society pages of newspapers and magazines across the country.

  The photograph would cause talk. Rhyan holding her in his arms with her arms wrapped around him, their mouths melded in a kiss. A scandalous thing in their sanctimonious world—even for a newly married couple. Editors would haggle over whether it should be printed or not, but print it they would.

  Ladies would tsk over it in their parlors, all the while envying her.

  The reception at Sollano was loud and long, but happiness pulsed from every corner. This was her home and she loved it, as she loved the man at her side. They would be together for as long as they both lived. And she prayed that would be a very long time.

  After the long reception line that left her hand numb, the dancing that made her feet hurt, the toasts and speeches at the banqueting table that seemed never to end, Carianne was finally able to eat. In spite of the unaccustomed stays pinching her, she enjoyed every bite.

  She and Rhyan sat at the head of the table with their closest friends on each side. Conversation rippled around the gathering, accompanied by the clink of silverware.

  “Are you going to let your wife work at the new library, cowboy?” Emma asked during a lull in the noise.

  “Let her? I insist on it,” Rhyan said. “She has to earn her keep.” Everyone laughed. He turned to her with a smile. “I need someone to help keep me straight. Tell me what’s right and wrong. Someone I can trust.” He took her hand and kissed it. “No one could do that better this lovely woman here.”

  “And I am honored to hold that position of trust.” Carianne turned his hand over and pressed her lips to his palm, holding his sultry gaze for several ticks of the clock.

  Prudie broke the silence. “Spoken just like a couple married for…what…four hours.”

  Under cover of the laughter, Rhyan asked, “Incidentally, do you see the young lady conversing with Colt?”

  She glanced down the table to the blonde who had Colt’s rapt attention. “Who is she?” Someone from out of town, that was for sure.

  “Charley Ryder. She’s your new rodeo performer.”

  Carianne reared back in her chair, twisting sideways to give her new husband an incredulous look.

  Rhyan grinned. “What? You did intend to have some wild-west shows at your culture center, didn’t you? Although…that sounds incongruous to me.” He shrugged one shoulder. “She’s an experienced performer. I know I should have conferred with you first, but you were so preoccupied with the wedding.”

  “Is Charley Ryder her real name?”

  “I don’t know, but you can ask her. She’s going to be working with Colt—with the horses.” He tapped her dish with his fork. “Go ahead and finish your dessert.”

  Carianne scooped her spoon into the sumptuous chocolate mousse as she stared at the blonde. She was pretty and animated, waving her hands as she spoke to Colt. “Looks like he’ll enjoy working with her.” With golden rolled curls fixed atop her head, a lovely face, and wearing a stunning blue gown that set off her charming curves to perfection, she was the least likely rodeo rider Carianne could imagine.

  “Are you jealous?” Rhyan teased.

  She elbowed him in the arm. Not jealous at all. This woman might be the one meant for Colt. “I think she’s perfect to draw an audience. Who would expect a woman rodeo performer? I appreciate that you hired her.” She brought the spoonful of mousse to her mouth, noting that everyone else had finished eating. “How long do you suppose our guests will linger?”

  “Are you anxious to get me alone?”

  She held his amused stare, sliding her spoon from her lips slowly. Provocatively. “Yes.”

  Rhyan got to his feet and tapped his glass to get everyone’s attention. He announced the last dance of the evening, emphasizing the word “last.”

  The wedding guests took the hint and, after the dance, began gathering their things before the orchestra hit its final notes. They all poured out onto the portico. Carriages, lining the circular drive, stopped in front as each guest descended the wide steps.

  Carianne tilted her head to catch the breeze. The anticipation of unbridled kisses burned within her greater than the sultry, summer night air.

  At last they stood alone, and not a moment too soon, in her opinion. The lights cast a rosy glow on the stone walls of their home. Their home. This was her home now.

  Her gaze lingered on her husband, mesmerized by way his ebony curls fell over his forehead, the intensity of his eyes. Did she excite him as much as he did her? The rapid rise and fall of a pulse in his neck said she did.

  His head lowered and she closed her eyes, waiting for the thrill of his kiss.

  “I think that’s everyone.” Rhyan’s brother, Jonathan, made them both jump.

  Reluctantly, Carianne tore her gaze from her husband. “Safe travels, Jonathan. I so look forward to visiting this winter and meeting Ellen and the children.”

  “She was disappointed not to be able to come, but couldn’t with both the boys sick with the croup.”

  “We’re praying they recover quickly.”

  “I’m sure they will.” He looked back at the door as if he’d forgotten something, and she prayed that wasn’t the case. With a smile, he expelled a sigh. “Is there anything else I can do for you before I go?”

  “Nothing,” Rhyan said, “but accept our fond farewell and take your leave.”

  Carianne poked his arm. “He didn’t mean that the way it sounded. We’d love to have you stay longer.”

  Jonathan laughed and dropped a brotherly kiss on her cheek. “Oh, he meant it, Carianne.” He slapped Rhyan on the back. “Ellen and I will be looking forward to your visit.”

  They watched until Jonathan’s buggy drove away.

  Carianne turned to go into the house, but before she could take a step, Rhyan swept her into his arms and crossed the threshold. As if she hadn’t passed that threshold a hundred times before.

  This was different, and they both knew it.

  Seconds passed as they stared into each other’s eyes.

  “Are you going to put me down?” she asked, not at all ready for him to release her.

  The smile hovering on his lips grew until both laugh lines spread as far as they would go. “No—no, I’m not ever letting you go. Your feet may never touch the ground again.” He pressed his forehead against hers. “If you have no objection, my love, I think it’s time to retire for the night.”

  “If you’re waiting for my approval—” She stretched her satin slipper-clad foot to reach the open door. “You have it, cowboy.” With one shove, she kicked the door shut.

  Author’s Note

  Thank you, dear reader, for reading Surrendered, the second in my Intrigue under Western Skies series. If you enjoyed this book, and even if you didn’t, please leave a review at Amazon.com and Goodreads. I write only for the Lord’s glory and the reader’s pleasure, so I would much appreciate your opinion. My other books available at Amazon.com include:

  The Annex Mail Order Brides series:

  Adela’s Prairie Suitor

  Ramee’s Fugitive Cowboy

  Prudie’s Mountain Man

  Intrigue under Western Skies series:

  Book 1, Pursued

  Also:

  The Perfect Gift, a Christmas Novella

  Cloaked in Love

  About the Author

  Elaine Manders writes wholesome, Christian romance about the strong, capable women of history and the men who love them. She lives in Central Georgia. When not writing, she enjoys reading, sewing, and crafts. You may contact the author at any of the following.

  Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/elaine.manders.35

  Twitter: https://twitter.com/ehmanders

  Blog: https://elainemanders.wordpress.com

  Email: elainehmanders@gmail.com<
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