Forbidden

by Abbie Williams

  He kissed her lips softly and sweetly, then tipped his forehead against hers, whispered, “I know, sweetheart, I know. I knew you didn’t mean it that night. I knew.”

  She curled her fingers into his hair, cupped the back of his head, peppered his chin and cheeks with little kisses. She said softly, “Your poor hands, baby.”

  He laughed once, ruefully, the endearment going straight to his already-besotted heart. Then his eyes were all at once serious, no trace of a smile on his lips. “Bryce, I am so sorry about your mother.”

  She drew a deep breath, closed her eyes for a split second, finally whispered, “Rae told you the truth.”

  Matthew nodded, not willing to let what was still an extreme shock to him take precedence at the moment. Besides, no one but Daniel would ever be his father, not in his heart, even if John Ryan had actually contributed the sperm once upon a time. He said simply, “Yes.” And then, his arms locking even more protectively around her, he whispered, “It was a lot to absorb.” His eyes steady on her face, he continued, “Bryce, no matter what you are feeling right now, I will be here for you. You take all the time you need. When you’re ready, you tell me and we’ll find a justice of the peace who will marry us on the spot. I’ll wait forever for you, you know that right?”

  She felt her heart stretch, like a flower feeling sunlight again after so many days of ash-gray rain. She whispered, “Take me home, please, Matthew. As soon as the funeral is over, I just want to go home with you to Rose Lake. I don’t care if we live in your bedroom in Wilder and Erica’s house, or even at the Pull Inn. Lot 25 is pretty nice.” She smiled at the joy on his face, the tenderness in his dark eyes.

  He said, “31 is way more private.”

  ***

  That night they curled together in her bed in the motel, alone, naked for the first time without making love first. Tonight both were content to just cling, breathe the same air. Matthew hauled her against his chest, where she snuggled into the huge solid warmth, her spine pressed to his torso, their joined left hands on the mattress beside her belly, fingers interlocked as best they could around his cast. Matthew tipped his face against her, kissed softly and tenderly along a path from her left shoulder to the side of her neck.

  She shivered in pleasure, tucked their hands against her body. “It’s our first time in a real bed,” she observed in a whisper, felt him smile against her skin. She continued, still whispering, her face hot, “It seems a shame not to…you know…”

  “Bryce, don’t tempt me,” he warned, low and teasing, moving his left leg and hooking it over her hips. “I wouldn’t feel right, under the circumstances.”

  “I know,” she agreed. “But you will make this up to me.”

  He bit her lightly on the same places he’d just kissed, making her squeak. “Oh, you better believe it,” he growled at her ear. “Many millions of times.”

  Overcome with emotion again, she curled around to face him, locked her arms about his neck in the dark. “It’s our first time knowing the truth, too.”

  His casts scratched her back and she squirmed, then giggled a little as he muttered, “These goddamn things.” He cradled her close, kissed her softly on her right eye, closing it. “Sorry, I was going for your mouth,” he added, and this time landed it perfectly before settling his head back on the pillow. Beside him, her face was a soft pale oval in the dimness. He said, “Bryce, it wouldn’t have mattered to me. I would move the earth for you, let alone break a few laws.” He sighed a little, suddenly missing his father, wishing Daniel could have met Bryce for real, could have known her and seen how happy she made his youngest child. Not for the first time, he wondered whether Daniel had known the truth. And of course now he’d never know. He confessed this to Bryce, wanted her opinion here in the darkness in Oklahoma.

  She considered for a moment, almost relaxed into sleep in the security of his arms, then whispered, “I don’t know why, but I think he knew. And he still loved you like his own boy; it didn’t matter to him. That’s what I think.”

  “I’d like to think so. He was a good man,” Matthew whispered, almost ready to drift off himself. “And now he’ll be watching over your mom, too.”

  Bryce closed her eyes against the tears, let them fall silently as they leaked out. Comforted by the warmth of Matthew’s body, his steady breathing and familiar scent, she fell asleep at last, her pillow damp beneath her cheek.

  ***

  Michelle’s service was attended by her daughter, her brother and his wife, Matthew, Bryce’s friends, Trish’s mother and sisters, Gayle and Rae Taylor. Her body in its coffin would accompany Wilder and Erica home on the return flight, to be buried in the Rose Lake cemetary. The assembled crowd was quiet and still in the small church in Middleton, beneath a sky overhung with cast-iron clouds, which annoyed Bryce as well as gave her a light migraine. At least she attributed that to the heavy, oppressive air which would linger all evening without shedding any rain.

  With Matthew’s fingers clenched in her own and Trish’s elbow linked with hers on the left, Bryce made it through the afternoon and managed to remember most of what was said, despite her resolve to put it behind her as quickly as possible. Part of her wanted to crumple and weep over her mother’s coffin, but another part kept her eyes dry, though her throat was tight. When it was over, she asked for a moment alone; Matthew was reluctant to leave her, she knew, his dark eyes worried, fastened on her face. But she reached way up on tiptoe to kiss him gently on the chin, whispered, “I’ll be right there, baby. I just need a second.”

  He nodded, then walked slowly down the center aisle between Erica and Wilder, like the boy he would in some ways always be to them. Bryce watched them, then turned back to her mother and touched the smooth surface of the coffin, her lips trembling for the first time all day. Finally she whispered, “Michelle.” And then, though she hadn’t used the word to describe her in a very long time,“Mom, I finally understand. I forgive you. If you can hear me somehow, please know that. I forgive you.” She buried her face against her palms, overcome, and suddenly arms were around her, clutching her. Small, delicate arms, and a floral scent she recognized: Rae. Her older sister. How incredible.

  “Honey, come on, let’s go,” Rae whispered. “She knows, sweetie. She knows.” She tipped her face and kissed Bryce’s cold cheek, and the younger woman said, “Thank you, Rae,” and they held each other for a moment before following their family to the front of the church, before they made to head for home.

  Epilogue

  Rose Lake, Minnesota – Monday, June 17, 1996

  Bryce pushed her bare right foot against the floorboards of the porch, letting the scent of the lilacs surround her like an old, dear friend. She stared up into the blue June sky, feeling relaxed and headed for daydreams, was about to drift off when the sound of Matthew’s truck made her heart speed up, and she leaned forward in anticipation as he pulled up the driveway. He climbed out, grinned at the sight of his bride and jogged up the steps as she struggled to her feet and was instantly wrapped in his arms.

  She pressed her face against his bare chest as he kissed the top of her head and then dropped carefully to his knees to put his warm lips to her newly-bulging belly; they had found out just last Friday that she was carrying their son, and Matthew was about to burst with the excitement of it all. Bryce didn’t think he would be able to wait until the end of October; he was already talking about paint colors for the baby’s room, scouring baby name books and imagining games of catch. And fishing. And hockey. Bryce smiled and curled her fingers into her husband’s thick silky hair, held him close to her as he talked brightly to her belly.

  “Hey, buddy,” Matthew was saying. “How’s it going in there today? You’re getting so big. Your mama has been craving cheesecake these days. I bet you love that.” He lifted his beautiful dark eyes to her and grinned again, moving his hands abruptly to grasp her hips. “Hi, love. Happy anniversary.”

  Bryce tipped her head at him, her eyebrows raised in question.


  “It was a year ago tonight that I met you, remember?” he asked, widening his eyes with simulated surprise. “Don’t tell me you don’t remember. Baby, come on. You, me, a motel bed…”

  She was laughing long before he finished, his eyes crinkled at the corners as he grinned devilishly at her.

  “Now that you mention it, I guess I do,” she told him, and he stood to his full height once again, caught her up in his arms.

  “There’s an empty house in front of us, sweetheart. I’d like to renew some memories if you don’t mind,” he said, low, his words cut off suddenly as she pulled his mouth to hers and lightly bit his bottom lip. “Aw, Bryce. I love you,” he murmured against her lips, and she tightened her arms around his neck in response, eyes closed as he kissed her long and deep.

  The past year had been interesting, full of adjustments and small hardships, but joy, too. Mostly joy. Bryce and Matthew moved for the time being into the big house with Wilder, Erica and the kids, who were delighted at the turn of events, far more accepting of the idea of their uncle and cousin in love and wanting to get married. (“I knew it!” Emma had crowed.) Many people were still shocked, angry even, knowing the truth about John Ryan and Lydia Henry Sternhagen. The various Ryan families took their time with the news, feeling betrayed by their patriarch, though many had guessed that John had not been faithful to Hannah in the years of their marriage. But discovering that Matthew Sternhagen was by blood a Ryan was almost too much for some of them to endure; Jeremy and his wife Tina had been the first to invite Matthew to their home to acknowledge him as a relative; slowly, little by little, the others had followed suit.

  Matthew appreciated their efforts, even though they would never truly be his family, not in his heart. He had a brother already, and a sister-in-law, nieces and a nephew. They were all the extended family he needed, but he and Bryce went willingly enough to the various Ryan homes. More welcome to Bryce was the knowledge that she did indeed have a family, a brother and a sister of her own, when she had long since given up any hope of such things. She and Rae were together constantly, sisters and yet somehow more; Rae was the kind, loving and delighted mother she’d never known, and Bryce filled the spot in Rae that had always longed for a girl of her own.

  Bryce became his wife on the first Saturday in September. They were married in the small church in Rose Lake where Wilder and Erica had once exchanged vows, by the same minister. Only a handful of people were invited to the service: their family, Rae and Bar, and Bryce’s best friends from Oklahoma, who’d flown to Minnesota together. Trish and Stacy were determined to hook up with a couple of the Ryans, ones who looked just like Matthew, as they teased Bryce. After the ceremony there was a grand bash at the Lodge, attended by far more guests; Trish took one look at Riley Christianson and decided he was the man for her, Stacy had her eye on Nate, and Amy, who’d become engaged to Kevin over the summer, watched the proceedings with only slightly jealous eyes.

  Now, on the anniversary of the most profoundly moving year of her life, Bryce slipped her hand into her husband’s much stronger one, and let him lead her to their room, their love, their life.

  About The Author

  Abbie Williams has been addicted to love stories ever since first sneaking her mother’s copy of The Flame and the Flower; and since then, she’s been jotting down her own in a notebook. A school teacher who spends her days with her own true love, their three daughters, and a very busy schedule, she is most happy when she gets a few hours to indulge in visiting the characters in her stories. When she’s not writing, teaching or spending time with her family, you’ll find her either camping, making a grand mess in her kitchen at various cooking attempts, or listening to a good bluegrass banjo.