Of course, Elam and Keara’s sudden decision had stunned the community all the way to town, but their local neighbors along White River Hollow had shown nothing but excitement, even relief.
But did Penelope and Jael intend for her to faint from oxygen starvation before the vows could be spoken? How did they expect her to have enough breath to say a word? She could span her cinched waist with her own two hands, and she didn’t have huge hands.
“You’re beautiful,” Jael whispered, her russet hair caught up in an elegant chignon. “Don’t fidget so, Keara, or your veil will fall.”
Penelope, with hair as dark as her brother Elam’s, and dark brown eyes as calming, brushed a loose petal from Keara’s arm. “Remember to walk straight and proud down the aisle, for you have much to be proud of. And hold the bouquet out to show off your tiny waist.”
“So everyone can get a good look at it,” Jael added.
“So everyone will know I’m not in the family way,” Keara muttered.
“Nonsense, my dear,” Penelope said. “Your reputation is above reproach, no matter what one or two jealous women may attempt to imply.” She cast a cool sidelong glance in the direction of Raylene Harper, Cynthia Lindstrom, and friends.
“And smile at Elam,” Jael said. “Keep your eyes on him. Let everyone see how you feel about him.”
“And don’t trip over your train,” Jael said.
Keara groaned. “I may lose my breakfast.”
“No!” both of her future sisters-in-law cried in unison.
“It’s being shoved out by these stays.”
Before they could ply her with more instructions, the first chords of the huge organ filled the church with…a lot of noise.
Keara would’ve preferred the meadowlarks and a private ceremony far from Eureka Springs—one of the largest cities in the state of Arkansas, thanks to the railway system that brought travelers to this place for the benefits of the healing waters.
This past week, Keara had often blessed Penelope and Jael for their support, despite their wrong-headed efforts to prepare for this wedding. They were, at heart, romantics who’d seen too much of their brother’s grief and wished only for his happiness—and that of the children.
That they believed Keara could bring the family happiness touched her deeply and made her want to please them, even if it meant going through with this dreadful, fancy service.
Why had she ever doubted their friendship in her darkest hours last week? They were much like the rest of the White River Hollow neighbors, and though they descended from a class of settlers who felt comfortable rubbing shoulders with the upper crust of Eureka Springs society on East Mountain above the bustle of Mud Street, they cherished many of the same things Keara did—the open fields, deep forests, and rushing waters that made up their true home.
Keara peered from the back of the church at the crowd and nearly swooned again. She’d barely recognized herself in the mirror when the sisters were preparing her. The pale blue dress that Mother wore for her own wedding twenty-seven years ago had been altered for Keara’s smaller form—and in Keara’s opinion, Penelope had been a little heavy-handed with the thread. Had she twined it with steel? The material refused to give.
“You will take his breath away.” Penelope tugged at Keara’s blond hair beneath her veil.
“You mean like mine’s been taken,” Keara grumbled.
“I’ve wanted to get my hands on you for the longest time,” Penelope said, “but I couldn’t drag you out of the fields or the garden or Elam’s horse paddock long enough to do anything about it. We can bet he’s never seen you looking like this before.”
Jael patted her sister’s protruding belly. “You’ve done a perfect job, despite your morning sickness, Pen.”
“And I appreciate it,” Keara said. “I do. Sorry I’m jittery as a katydid. You’re both…you’re so good to me.”
“It’s about time someone was good to you.” Jael grimaced and nibbled on her lip. “Sorry, Keara, I mean no disrespect to your family or others”—another glare toward Raylene—“but your time for happiness is long overdue. We know our brother. He can make you happy.”
Keara felt worse every second. They didn’t realize, did they, that this wasn’t going to be the marriage they expected?
“And now she’ll be closer,” Penelope said. “We can teach her a few things her mother never wanted her to know.” The sisters exchanged a long look, which left Keara wondering.
The music changed. Penelope whispered last-minute instructions to Keara as Jael turned with graceful serenity and proceeded down the middle aisle of the church.
“I know you didn’t have time to practice this, but just do what the minister tells you to do, and when it comes time for the groom to kiss the bride, you’re the bride.” Penelope’s dark eyes sparkled with teasing lights. “I bet you and my brother haven’t even kissed, have you?”
Keara gasped for a deep breath and couldn’t quite fill her lungs. The tight stays and at least fifteen pounds of undergarments made her feel buried alive. “How do you—”
“Never mind, just raise your face to his and let him do the rest. He’s got three children, so believe me when I tell you he knows how to kiss you…and much more, besides.” Penelope gave her a sly wink as she turned to proceed down the aisle behind her sister, her head turned toward the love-filled gaze of her husband, David, who walked to the front of the church from a side door.
Wedding services had taken on a whole new set of rules since Mother and Pa married. Keara remembered listening to her mother tell about the wedding celebration in their home, with just a few friends and family looking on when the circuit preacher reached the hollow on his monthly rounds. As for what happened after the wedding ceremony, Mother had never seen fit to share the basics with her daughter. Only the ceremony itself, which sounded idyllic.
But Eureka Springs was a different world, where the selfappointed proper citizens had developed their own ideas about etiquette from back East. Keara didn’t belong here.
Today, though, she had to pretend. From what she saw in the mirror—that stranger who had her eyes, her firm chin, her widow’s peak, but who appeared to have stepped from one of Jael’s fashion magazines—she only had to follow the lead of her future sisters-in-law for a few hours and all would be over. Then she could go home to Elam’s ranch, settle her things in Britte’s bedroom, and carry on as usual. All that mattered was that she would have a roof over her head, and she would be with the ones she loved most. Gloria’s children.
And Elam.
Keara closed her eyes and moaned softly. Why couldn’t they have jumped in the wagon and ridden to town, hunted down a justice of the peace, and then announced the marriage to all after the fact? Why this huge show for a union that wasn’t…well…could never be the real thing?
The music changed again. Penelope and Jael nodded toward Keara, who had no one to walk her down the aisle. She would walk alone, as she had done for a long, long time. She followed the trail her friends had blazed, holding her bouquet out away from her waist to show how tightly they had drawn the binding.
Of all the nerve, for Raylene to start a rumor that Keara was pregnant! Elam didn’t know, and if Jael or Penelope had anything to do with it, he never would, but Penelope had warned Keara about it just yesterday.
If Keara blacked out from lack of oxygen, she could blame nasty gossip for forcing her to go to this much trouble to prove the gossips wrong. Tiny waist, indeed!
To endure it all, Keara sought for a glimpse of the children as she stepped down the aisle, keeping time with the music in the wedding march. She found Britte’s angelic face in the crush of guests near the front, looking so much like her mother.
Keara winked. Britte grinned back, eyes alight with excitement, as were Rolfe’s. They both waved with great enthusiasm, and she returned the greeting. A couple of women tittered.
Who cared if this type of thing wasn’t done in polite society? Polite society could go dump
themselves in White River for all she cared, so long as they didn’t contaminate the water for the citizens of the hollow.
Then, in the midst of all her rebellious thoughts, she saw Elam step from the same door that had released David and Kellen a moment ago.
Keara’s steps faltered. In a thrill of private pleasure, she couldn’t help soaking in the male lines of the man, his serious, dark gaze on her. He was without a doubt the most handsome man in the church—in all of Eureka Springs. She loved him not because of that, but because of his steadfast love for his wife, which spoke to Keara of his ability to love.
She would never forget his solid support of Gloria. He was a man who could always be counted on to do the right thing for a friend in need—even to the point of giving up any thought of remarriage to a more attractive and socially acceptable mate.
To Keara’s chagrin, she discovered she was enjoying the fact that the rumormongers must be feeling rubbed raw from watching the most eligible man in all of Eureka Springs and the surrounding countryside marry a woman they seemed to despise. In fact, it felt wonderful.
Awful to feel such satisfaction. Even worse, awful to feel no compunction. Raylene Harper had caused her enough trouble, and it was time for a reckoning. Why was the girl even here? To make sure she didn’t miss a single slip-up she could gossip about later?
Stop it, Keara McBride. Mind your thoughts. Remember your Christian charity. It must extend to her enemies as well as her friends.
And Raylene hadn’t always been her enemy.
Keara’s toe rammed something hard, and she realized she’d wedding-marched into the step leading up to the raised dais. The pain shot along her foot, but she refused to show a response.
She forced a smile for Elam through gritted teeth, and she saw the amusement in the gleam of brown eyes. He’d seen the stumble. She suppressed a nervous giggle, horrified that she might suddenly laugh out loud and snort like Buster when he rolled in the dirt after a hard ride.
Jael and Penelope both nodded with encouragement—but did she see the barest hint of worry in their expressions?
She stepped up and joined Elam, so very glad she wouldn’t have to turn and face the crowd just yet. Not that she should care. This day stood as a testimony to her future—one filled with strength and support from Elam, and love for the children. What others believed about her shouldn’t affect her.
Jael placed a hand on her arm and gently retrieved the bouquet then nudged Keara closer to Elam’s side. His smile drew her in, and his strength held her steady. For a tiny slip of a moment she allowed her eyes to close as she relived the time last week, only a few hours after her humiliation at his house, when he rode his stallion to her farm and asked for her hand in marriage. As he’d explained, Gloria would never forgive him for turning her best friend away in her time of need.
It wasn’t the kind of proposal she’d dreamed about as a girl, but she continued to bask in the relief she’d felt that day. Her hero. He’d saved her life—at least, the only kind of life she’d ever known.
The minister began his memorized lines, and Keara opened her eyes, listening with care so she would know what to do and when to do it. Elam had a ring for her. He’d wrapped a string around her finger three days ago to measure for a fit and then ridden into Eureka Springs. The solid gold band was etched deeply with filigree, and already she worried that she would wear down the delicate etching with her constant work around the ranch.
She repeated the words the minister fed her, finding it difficult to meet Elam’s gaze as the ceremony grew more serious. She promised to love him and then listened for the slightest hesitation as he made the same promise to her. There was none. She looked up at him as he continued his promise to honor and cherish her and felt warmth flow through her as he held her gaze, speaking to her as if they were the only two people in the sanctuary. He spoke as if he meant every word. He was vowing to be a good and loving husband to her.
She knew it couldn’t be the kind of love she’d dreamed of and longed for since she was a young teen, but it was love all the same. He performed acts of love by placing a roof over her head and supporting her. Those things showed the character of the man she would share her life with. This would be the only time she would hear these words from him, and she would savor them as long as she lived.
At the minister’s prompt, Elam pulled out the ring for Keara’s finger, and when she held out her hand, to her alarm, it shook. Elam caught it in his own, squeezing to reassure her as he slipped on the ring. He caught both of her hands in his and held them steady, smiling down at her with gentleness. And then the minister’s words registered as he pronounced them man and wife and told Elam, “You may kiss the bride.”
Keara raised her face to his and shut her eyes, feeling as if she might be bracing for a slap. She prayed it didn’t appear that way to the rest of the congregation. The scent of soap and bay rum reached her as warm lips—Elam’s lips—found a perfect fit against hers.
The stays beneath her fitted dress seemed to tighten yet again, and her head roared with the impact of the intimate caress. If not for his arms drawing her close and holding her securely, she would have toppled to the floor.
Oh my…
This changed everything.
A thousand thoughts and emotions attacked Elam through the softness of Keara McBride’s—no, make that Keara Jensen’s—lips. He felt as if he’d been stuck in sand up to his waist. For a moment, he couldn’t move except to grip Keara’s arms more tightly. As his head continued to reel from the vision of Keara adorned as a woman prepared for marriage—a real, flesh and blood, beautiful woman whose appearance could put any other woman in the county to shame—he could barely catch his breath.
He’d never seen her look so…womanly. He’d never dreamed that the touch of her lips, the taste of them against his, could make him feel this way.
This wasn’t supposed to happen.
It was wrong. Dead wrong. It took all he had to not jerk away and bolt. He was still married to Gloria. His wife, his beloved, still lived in his heart, in his dreams, followed him wherever he went. He no longer saw her as clearly as before in his mind, but he kept her picture beside his bed. How could he claim to be doing this for Gloria’s sake—marrying her best friend—when this made him feel like a dirty, rotten cheater?
And Keara. Until she walked down that aisle, had he ever before read this message she seemed to be sharing with him from her eyes—a message of more than a simple friendship? Was this his imagination?
He couldn’t help remembering the pain in her eyes the day she’d first asked him to marry her and he’d turned her down. Was that more than simple desperation? Hadn’t he seen a hurt that went more deeply than fear for her future?
And hadn’t that expression touched something deep within him, despite all?
Strange how a man’s mind could recall a moment with more clarity a week later.
Guilt—no, shame—battled with a lightness in his spirit; a shaft of hope thrust through the darkness that had pressed down on him all these months. This was too soon. All wrong.
Keara’s kiss captured him, spread through him with a power that he’d not anticipated. Not at all. He felt caught off guard, stripped bare before a crowd of onlookers. Why had he not been braced for this?
The woman he held in his arms was not Gloria. The fit wasn’t the same, the slender shoulders felt more fragile than Gloria’s—though he knew they were anything but fragile. The scent of spice replaced the honeysuckle and roses of Gloria…and the scent of death that had clung to her during those final days of the nightmare.
The most powerful impact of Keara’s kiss, however, was the reminder of comfort and hope Elam had felt in her presence throughout the bleak winter, and the connection she gave him to Gloria in her love for the children.
Connection to Gloria. That was it. He responded to Keara because she brought him closer to the love of his life.
But much was different. Keara spoke a language Gloria ne
ver knew. She was a horse enthusiast, she loved to garden, and she could shovel out a stall and teach the children common, down-to-earth practicality, whereas Gloria had wanted a more cultured life for her offspring. Still, Keara’s devoted friendship had been Elam’s solid rock when Gloria died.
That had to be what drew him to Keara now, what enveloped him in the kiss, the warmth of her skin, and the power that emanated from her very being. He couldn’t betray Gloria’s memory by indulging in the sweetness of Keara’s lips or the sway of her loving gaze.
And yet, in this moment, as he released her and turned to face the congregation, in their eyes he could read that they believed all was well. As it should be.
How firm a foundation God had given him—and Britte, Rolfe, and Cash—today, in the person of Keara Jensen.
He allowed reality to rush in—the crowd before him could believe what they wished. But he knew the truth. So did Keara. Theirs was a marriage born of desperation.
He would do all that was within his power to make sure Gloria would look down on him from heaven and approve of his kindness to her dearest friend. Beyond that, the wedding kiss would have to be his only betrayal of the love he would always have for Gloria.
Four
“Chivaree?” Keara fingered the beautiful new band on her finger, relished the warmth of her new husband sitting close beside her, and pondered the kiss that changed everything for her—that frightened her and held her in its wonder and pierced her heart as it challenged the decision that theirs was not to be a marriage of romantic love.
“It’s when friends and neighbors tease the newly married couple with partying and merrymaking and—”
“I know what a chivaree is, even if I never took part in one.” Mother had needed much care in the final ten years of her life, and the boys had needed a firm hand. Anytime Keara had attended a wedding in the past, she’d always rushed home to see to her family’s needs. But this evening, word had spread that there would be a chivaree for her and Elam.
The Wedding Kiss Page 3