Christine’s gaze followed Shannon to the altar, then switched to Morgan and Rafe. The groom looked amazingly handsome in his black tuxedo, with his dark hair and eyes and strong chiseled features. Morgan was a perfect foil, with his blond good looks. Night and day, the best of friends.
Christine couldn’t take her eyes off of Morgan. Throughout the ceremony, she watched his every move. She watched as he supplied the wedding band and patted Rafe on the back. She watched as he broke into a wide smile as Rafe kissed Shannon soundly. As he followed the happy couple back up the aisle to the rear of the tent, accompanying one of the bridesmaids since LeRoy had claimed Harriet.
Everyone broke into shouts of congratulations and laughter as Rafe swept Shannon up into his arms, and one of the cowboys—they were all in attendance and dressed in their finest regalia—made a ribald remark.
Christine lost track of Morgan as the crowd broke up, everyone transferring to the other tent, where champagne was to be served, along with dinner and cake.
Erin dragged her to the other tent, as well, after spotting Jessica with her brother and sister and Dub and Delores. A tall solidly built man, somewhat older than Morgan, stood with them.
Delores did the introductions as the children ran off to inspect the multitiered cake. “Christine, this is Russell, our oldest son. Russell, Christine Grant. Or should I add Parker?”
Before Christine could answer Dub spoke up. “Who wouldn’t be proud to be a Parker?” He seemed far more comfortable now that he no longer wore a full cast or the restricting brace on his arm, only an elastic wrist support.
Russell Hughes took her hand. “Nice to meet you, Christine,” he said with a friendly smile. Looking closely, Christine could see a family resemblance. Russell had the same nose and cheekbones as Morgan, and the blond hair, but there the similarities stopped.
“Russell’s come to get his kids,” Delores said. “I’m gonna miss ‘em so much!”
“Probably like a case of chicken pox.” Russell chuckled. “I’ll be glad to get them back, though. It’s been a long time.”
Champagne corks popped and laughter surged. Dub and Delores and Russell were called away by someone, and Christine edged around the revelers.
Jodie rushed up to her. Dressed fashionably, with her hair caught up in loose curls and her face carefully made up, Jodie turned heads. She looked like a magazine model. “Isn’t Shannon beautiful?” She sighed. “Some day I’m going to have a wedding like this. At one time, with Rio, I didn’t care. But today has been so much fun I’m converted! I’ll have to break the news gently to my daddy. The bigger, the better now, as far as I’m concerned!” She looked at Christine’s empty hands. “Have you had a glass of champagne yet?”
“I don’t really want one. I’ll wait for the cake.”
Jodie looked at her closely. “Are you all right? With all these Parkers around, we’re not overwhelming you or anything, are we? I mean, we can sometimes be a bit too much of a good thing.”
“I’d just rather wait. I don’t drink much alcohol.”
Jodie nodded, her copper-colored curls bouncing. Then she spotted someone. “Look, there’s Tate. Over there talking to LeRoy. You remember I told you about him? How he used to drive my school bus and how I—” She stopped. “He does look good all cleaned up and out of uniform, doesn’t he?”
“I know him,” Christine said, her brow furrowing at first and then clearing. “The night Erin and I.the night the rustlers…He was with Morgan, helping to catch them. Then he came by the next day and took our statements.”
“He’s a deputy sheriff now.” Jodie frowned. “Everyone says he’s a good one.”
Christine saw three people seated at a corner table who were causing a bit of a stir as people stopped by to greet them. “Who are they?” she asked.
Jodie followed her gaze. “Oh, that’s Darlene and Thomas and their son, Richard. The house next to Harriet’s? We weren’t sure they were going to make it back in time. They’ve been in Amarillo, where Richard lives. Our great family scandal—the divorce.” She waved when Darlene looked round and saw her. “I’m going over to talk to them. You want to come? I’ll introduce you…but I won’t say anything else. They’ll hear about it soon enough, anyway.”
Christine shook her head. “Maybe later,” she murmured, and Jodie smiled.
“They’re really sweet,” she said.
“Still…”
“I’ll introduce her later,” Morgan said, having come up behind them unnoticed.
Christine turned and saw he was carrying two flutes of champagne.
“Wow, Morgan!” Jodie teased. “You should wear a tux more often. I had to look twice to make sure it was you.”
He grinned. “An’ I thought for sure you were Julia Roberts come to visit. I almost called the paparazzi.”
“I think there’re enough photographers here already,” Jodie said, laughing. “What did Aunt Mae do? Tell them to take pictures of everything?”
“Probably, knowing her.”
“Where is she?” Christine asked.
“Where else?” Jodie tipped her head. “Up front in the limelight”
Christine peered around a group of people and saw Mae at the head table with Shannon and Rafe. They were drinking toasts and posing for the photographer.
“I hope she’s happy,” Morgan said.
The way he said it, so seriously, made Christine look at him. He offered her a glass, smiling. “I think I spilled some on the way.” Then to Jodie, “You want some, Jodie? You can have this and I’ll go get more.”
Jodie shook her head. “No. I’m off to see Richard, to surprise him. I think the last time he saw me, I was twelve.”
“He won’t recognize you.”
“I’ll see how long it takes.” Then with a wink at Christine and a pointed look at the glass of champagne Christine had automatically accepted from Morgan, Jodie bounced off.
For something to do, Christine sipped the champagne. Morgan did likewise, and then they started to stroll around, the pavilion’s open sides allowing the guests to see all that was going on inside and out, as well as letting a breeze pass through.
“Look at Axel and Marie,” Christine said, spotting the couple seated together at a nearby table. It had taken a lot of convincing, Christine knew, to get them to agree to be regular guests and to let someone else be responsible for the meal. “They don’t look comfortable not being busy.”
“I know. Maybe they’ll relax after the newness wears off.”
“Maybe.”
Christine was growing more nervous with each second that passed. What was he waiting for? When was he going to demand their talk?
Suddenly he took the flute from her unresisting fingers and placed it alongside his on a table. Then he clasped her hand and pulled her from the tent, taking her out into the dwindling twilight, away from the people and the music.
“Where are we going?” she asked breathlessly.
“Somewhere private.”
“And where is that?”
“You’ll see.”
He drew her into the compound and up the drive toward Mae’s house. When she saw where he was headed, she tried to hold back. “Morgan, I don’t think Mae would like it if we. It’s her house and we—”
He stopped to face her. “Right now, I don’t give a—” He cut off what he was about to say and after taking a short breath, continued, “Most of our problem is Mae’s fault. So she’ll just have to excuse us if we straighten it out on her territory.”
He pulled Christine up the pathway and onto the porch, where he paused to say a soft word to Shep, who was on “guard” duty. In reality, the dog was trying to stay out of the way of the crowd so that he could sleep. He wagged his tail from his prone position and Christine would swear that he smiled at them.
“Did you see that?” she asked, surprised.
“That’s one of Shep’s special tricks.”
Morgan opened the door and ushered her inside, then he headed
straight for the stairs.
“Morgan, really, this is crazy,” Christine protested.
He didn’t listen. He towed her up the stairs and down the hall and closed them both in her bedroom. Then, following up on what he’d started earlier, he dragged her against him and, like a man starved for sustenance, kissed her with such ferocity Christine grew dizzy. She began to kiss him back as his hands made a bold and very thorough exploration of her body.
Untangling her mouth from his, she murmured, “Erin. What if Erin…?”
“Harriet’s watching her. She won’t come back.”
Christine shivered as his lips moved over the curves of her breasts that the pale blue dress-adjusted a bit-exposed. Her fingers threaded in his hair. His warm breath fanned her skin. His body, straining against hers, stirred feelings that, until meeting him, she’d thought were dead.
His hunger was consuming her, and she was fast losing the ability to think rationally. But before they took the next step, they had to talk.
“Morgan.” She said his name quietly at first, then she repeated it with more intent. “Morgan, I can’t. I won’t…not until…We have to talk.”
When he drew away, Christine’s breath caught at the look in his eyes. She wanted so badly to be a part of him. To have the same heartbeat, the same breath, the same desires and needs.
Breaking contact, he seemed to battle for control. Finally, running a hand through his hair, he said, “Okay, we talk. You first.”
“They won’t miss us out there?” she asked.
“Who cares? But I doubt they will. Everyone’s attention is on Rafe and Shannon.”
Christine readjusted her dress and perched on the nearest bed. She knew that might not be a good idea, but she couldn’t continue standing. Her knees were too trembly.
“I…” she began, then had to start over because her voice cracked. “I thought everything over, like you said, and…I believe you.”
“You think you believe me. I can hear the hesitation.”
“Morgan, this is very hard for me.”
“And it’s not hard for me?”
She looked down at her clasped fingers, then back at him. “So much…last time so much had hit me so suddenly. Do you know what it’s like to think you don’t have any family left and then find out that you do, because you aren’t who you think you are? I thought I knew who my father was. I looked at his picture every night while I was growing up. He had the same color eyes as me and the same color hair, and I even imagined that I looked like him. Then to find out…”
“Your mother told you this man was your father?” he asked quietly.
She shook her head. “No. She wouldn’t tell me anything. I went by the development date on the photograph. He was the man I thought she was dating nine months before I was born.” She gave a short laugh. “I’d question the blood tests Ira sent Mae, only I remember that just a few weeks before my mother died, she did something strange. It was around the time Ira said she’d told him the truth. She asked me to go to a specific laboratory and have my blood tested. It was supposed to be for some kind of experimental treatment if I proved to be a proper match for her. Now I see the lab was the same lab Ira used for his own blood test. My mother sent me there to prove to him that I was his daughter. So now do you see why I was so devastated? I thought my mother had hurt me all she could, but I was wrong. Then Ira didn’t tell me who he was—and I wanted a father so badly. Then you—you acted for Mae against me.”
“I was never against you!”
Her eyes filled with tears. “It felt like it.”
Morgan knelt on the floor in front of her. “It wasn’t like that. I told you the truth. She wanted to know what you were like as a person. I told her what little you let me find out—that I thought you were honest and you put Erin’s welfare before your own. She wanted to know who Erin’s father was of course. But I couldn’t ask you that. For one, I knew you wouldn’t tell me. For the other, I knew it would scare you off. And I didn’t want you scared off. Not from me. I didn’t feel right even with the little I did tell her.”
“You’re an investigator. You investigate.”
“Not anymore.”
Christine’s eyes met his. “I don’t understand.”
“That’s what I was doin’ this last week. My dad’s not going to be able to handle the ranch work like he used to. Not for some time, if ever. He’s sixty-four and a bad break like that, especially to his wrist, is tough even for a young man. He’s started physical therapy, but that takes him away from the ranch for hours, since the hospital’s not exactly next door. So I went to Fort Worth and kinda resigned.”
“What do you mean, kinda?”
“My bosses told me to come back any time I want. They said they’d find a place for me if I ever get tired of wranglin’ cows for a livin’ again.”
For the first time, Christine reached out to him without prompting. She smoothed the hair that curled above his ear. “But it’s what you like to do, isn’t it?” “When I was young. I’m thirty-six now, Christine. I’m ready to settle down.” He chuckled. “Rafe would laugh me out of town if he heard me say that. I swore, just a month or so ago, that no woman would ever—”
“What woman?” Christine whispered.
“You.”
She closed her eyes. She had seen the sincerity in his gaze. He meant it.
“My mother’s been after me to settle down for years. She doesn’t like me gettin’ shot”
“You’ve been shot?” Christine asked, startled.
He made light of it. “Winged. Some rustlers are more dangerous than others. Those the other night. My, God, Christine, when I saw you and Erin.”
“You always seem to be there to rescue us,” she murmured.
He must have seen the warmth and caring she could no longer hide, even from herself. He said something, it might have been her name, but Christine was too distracted by his shift onto the bed and into her arms to notice.
EPILOGUE
THE CEREMONY WAS SHORT and sweet, no more than five minutes. Christine was wearing a pretty summer dress, and Morgan was in a suit. Erin, in her frilly dress from Shannon and Rafe’s wedding, scattered flower petals, just as, she confided, she’d secretly dreamed. The five minutes were momentous, though, because at their end, they were a family.
They stepped out of the tiny church and walked across the plaza. In a few minutes they were strolling along the Paseo del Rio, San Antonio’s renowned River Walk. Huge cypress trees and low palms lined the meandering waterway, which was spanned periodically by graceful stone bridges. In places, sidewalk restaurants and cafés vied with art galleries and gift shops, but all in all, there was a tranquillity about the River Walk that allowed a visitor a romantic respite from everyday life.
“Can we ride in a riverboat?” Erin asked excitedly. Her eyes were huge, her expression expectant. She was going to have a great time on their three-day honeymoon.
Morgan’s arm tightened around Christine’s waist. “Sure,” he said, smiling.
The “riverboats” were just flat barges with bench seats, but they moved smoothly and relatively quietly along the placid narrow river.
After purchasing tickets, they hopped on board a waiting boat. Erin hurried to get them places near the front.
As the boat started off, Morgan settled Christine against him again. It was going to be like this, he knew. Erin would always have to be considered. But he didn’t mind. Christine and Erin came as a unit. The little girl was a part of her, and now a part of him. He smiled at Erin when she looked around to see if they were just as excited about the water trip as she was.
Christine’s arm had curved around his waist, and her cheek was resting against his shoulder. It was a comfortable yet intimate positioning of body to body, and he still couldn’t get over the thrill of having her next to him.
When Rafe had learned how it was between Morgan and Christine, he’d laughed, then welcomed him into the family. But Morgan’s parents had been s
urprised. Well, his father had been. Over the past two months, though, Dub had come around. Particularly when he got to know Erin better. As Christine had seen the relationship developing between them, she’d relaxed, and when she relaxed, Dub relaxed—to the point of encouraging the marriage.
“When ya gonna make an honest woman of her, son?” he’d demanded. What he didn’t understand was that it wasn’t Morgan who was holding back, it was Christine.
Then, at last, she’d agreed.
“You won’t regret this, will you, Morgan?” she’d asked just after they’d set the date.
“I’d regret not doing it,” he’d said, then teasingly, “I’d also regret having a wingding like Rafe and Shannon had. It was nice, but—”
“I meant giving up your freedom, giving up your job,” she’d cut in. “That’s a lot to ask of anyone.”
He’d gazed down into her sometimes too-astute eyes, and he’d smiled. “I have a job. And when we’re married, I’ll have three. Providing the brawn for dad, until he’s ready to retire, then taking over the post myself. Being a husband to you, and being a father to Erin. That should keep me busy. Who needs freedom?”
“I just don’t want you to regret anything,” she’d persisted.
“No. Never. Not for a second,” he’d replied.
“Penny for them.” Her soft voice called him back to the present.
The cool air from the river washed over them as the boat moved slowly along. People at the cafés lingered over their meals, people on the sidewalks strolled.
“I was just thinking,” he said, “about how much I owe Ira and your mother.”
She looked at him, frowning slightly. “Why?”
West Texas Weddings Page 23