by Bobbi Smith
His thoughts grew blacker.
John lifted his gaze and found himself staring in the mirror behind the bar. In the reflection, he watched Rosalie move around the room and flirt with the other men. Tonight, even she had the power to enrage him.
John splashed more whiskey in his glass.
Rosalie returned to John's side some time later.
"Feeling any better?" she asked, giving him a smile.
"What do you think?" he snarled.
She was a bit surprised that he hadn't mellowed yet. "Do you want me to make you feel better? We can go upstairs right now."
John stared at her for a moment. He hated her for being such an enticing woman, and he hated himself for his weakness in desiring her. "Let's go."
His curt answer wasn't what she expected, but she wanted him so badly that she didn't think there was really anything wrong. He seemed upset, but she knew just how to pleasure him. She'd make him forget whatever it was that was troubling him.
John grabbed the bottle, then took her by the arm, directing her almost forcefully toward the staircase.
Bill, the bartender, was watching, and he didn't like what he saw. He knew Rosalie loved John McQueen, but he personally had no use for the man. "Miss Rosaliyou gonna be all right?"
"I'm fine. You take care of things down here for me."
"I will."
Rosalie turned her full attention back to John as they started up the steps.
"John you're hurting me," she told him quietly, trying to pull away without making a scene.
"That's not all I'm going to do to you."
She heard what sounded like a threat in his tone, but told herself he had no reason to be angry with her, so there was nothing to worry about.
John didn't release her until they were at her bedroom door. He let her go and waited as she opened it. She went in ahead of him and started to light the lamp on the bedside table.
"Don 't" he ordered.
"Why?"
He shut the door and locked it.
"I want it dark in here." He wanted her to be nameless and faceless as he thrust within her.
"I like the way you think," Rosalie said, thinking he was being romantic.
That notion quickly changed when John came to stand by her. He put his bottle of liquor on the nightstand, then roughly pushed her down on the bed and fell upon her.
"John what is it? What's wrong?" She was shocked by his actions.
He kissed her to silence her, but it wasn't a passionate kiss. It was a kiss meant to punish. After freeing himself from his pants, he pushed her skirts aside and stripped her undergarment from her. He mounted her.
Rosalie stiffened. She tried to resist, but there was no stopping him.
John thrust inside her, wanting to hurt her. He enjoyed her pain. For right now, there in the darkness, she was Casey and he was punishing her.
Until that moment, Rosalie had believed they loved one another. Occasionally, John had been a little rough with her, but nothing like this. She almost felt as if she were being raped. She tried to twist away from him, to push him off her. He proved too strong, though. He kept her pinned to the bed, dominating her as he sought his release.
When at last he achieved the ecstasy he sought, John shuddered violently. He thrust all the more savagely into the depths of her body. Then he collapsed on top of her, panting from the exertion.
Rosalie couldn't believe what had just happened.
"Get off of me!" she demanded in disgust, pushing at his shoulders to try to dislodge him. She felt violated.
John was in no mood to listen to her. He raised himself over her and backhanded her across the face. "Shut up, woman. Nobody tells me what to do!"
He grabbed his bottle of whiskey and slugged down another long drink.
Rosalie was beyond shock. Her cheek was hurting from his blow, and she tasted blood. She was actually frightened by the change in him. She found herself wishing she kept a gun in the nightstand so she could defend herself. She was helpless before him, and she didn't like being helpless. Her only hope, she realized, was that he would drink himself into a stupor so she could slip away from him.
John put the bottle back on the nightstand and began thrusting deep within Rosalie again. He needed mindlessness. He needed a release for his pent-up lust for Casey.
Desperate to escape from him, Rosalie knew what she had to do. She reached out and grabbed the whiskey bottle off the nightstand, then with all the power she could muster, she hit him over the head with it. The bottle shattered, but her assault had the effect she'd hoped it would. John collapsed, unconscious upon her. In complete disgust, Rosalie shoved him off of herself and got up. Whiskey was everywhere, as well as broken glass, but she was free of him.
After lighting the lamp, she checked to make sure he was still breathing. Satisfied that he would wake up with only a headache, she got cleaned up and then dressed. She checked her cheek in the mirror and applied some makeup to the spot where John had hit her. Then she hurried downstairs. The farther away from him she got, the better.
Nick walked Anne home after the dance. When they reached her house and started up the path, Anne gazed up at the night sky. It was a clear night, and a canopy of stars twinkled high overhead.
"Are your nights this pretty in Philadelphia?" she asked with a sigh.
"No-and neither are the women," Nick answered, gazing down at her in the starlight.
"You always have the right line ready, don't you?" Anne asked with a grin.
"That wasn't a line," he told her seriously. "That was the truth."
"I'm supposed to believe you?" Her eyes widened.
"Yes," he said softly as he took her in his arms. "1 don't lie:"
Nick kissed her.
A sigh escaped Anne at the touch of his lips on hers. Nick's kiss was everything she'd fantasized it would be. It was gentle and cherishing and exciting all at the same time.
Nick had kissed many a girl in his day. He liked Anne and had had a nice time with her tonight. He had planned to kiss her good night and ride back to the ranch. He had not expected to be caught up in the wonder of Anne's kiss.
It was a simple kiss.
A gentle kiss.
But the power of it startled Nick.
He drew back, staring down at her in the darkness and seeing the same look of wonder on her face. He didn't say a word. He just kissed her again, wanting to make certain that he wasn't imagining anything, testing himself.
The second kiss passed the test with flying colors.
Nick drew Anne close as his lips moved over hers hungrily, devouringly.
For a moment, Anne was caught up in the wonder of his embrace. His kiss was pure heaven, and she wanted nothing more than to be in his arms, but she knew the truth. Nick would soon be traveling back East to the life he loved. She was only a diversion for him while he was in Hard Luck with Michael.
Summoning all her inner strength, Anne denied herself the pleasure of Nick's kiss and moved away from him.
"Good night, Nick," she said quietly. Then before he could speak or try to kiss her again and render her momentary show of strength useless, she hurried inside and closed the door.
Nick stood there staring after Anne. He couldn't remember the last time a woman had simply said "good night" to him and left him that way. He smiled as he stared at the closed door. He wanted to go after Anne and kiss her again, and his reaction surprised him.
Anne was a very special woman.
Nick turned and walked away.
Inside the house, Anne stood leaning against the door, trembling. Nick's kiss had excited her as no other man's ever had. She wondered how she was going to bear it when he left Hard Luck and went back to Philadelphia. She wondered, too, if there was any way she could make him stay.
Michael and Casey drove slowly on the trip home from the dance.
"Did you have a good time?" Michael asked as they drew up before the Bar T ranch house.
"Yes, I did. What about
you?"
He climbed down and walked around to her side of the carriage to help her down. "There was one thing I didn't enjoy."
"Karen?"
"No."
His response surprised her as he reached up and put his hands at her waist to lift her out of the carriage.
"It was John. I didn't like him interrupting our kiss," he answered as he lifted her down. He didn't release her, but held her close and captured her lips in a sweet-soft exchange. Michael ended the kiss, then stepped back and walked by her side up to the porch. He remained on the walk as she mounted the steps. "Good night, Casey."
"Good night, Michael."
She remained on the porch watching him drive away.
In one more week, he would never have to leave her again.
Casey smiled as she went inside.
It was her wedding day.
Casey couldn't believe the week had passed so quickly. Now here she was at Anne's house getting ready for the ceremony that would take place in a little over two hours.
"Are you all right?" Anne asked, noticing how quiet she'd become.
"I'm fine," she lied. The truth was, she was more nervous than she'd ever been in her whole life, but she couldn't admit it, not even to Anne.
"You are going to be the prettiest bride Hard Luck has ever seen," Anne assured her.
"I don't know about that."
"I do. Your dress is gorgeous. You looked pretty at the dance last week, but today, in this gown, you're going to be positively radiant."
"Thanks, Anne."
"For what? Telling you the truth?"
They shared a hug.
"We'd better get going. You can't be late to your own wedding."
"I'm glad Michael's father was feeling strong enough to make the trip into town so we could be married in church."
"Everything is going to go perfectly. You'll see."
"What if Michael doesn't show up?" Casey joked, although the possibility had crossed her mind occasionally since they'd come to their agreement.
"He will. He'd be crazy not to, with a bride like you waiting for him at the end of the aisle. Now let's get you ready."
Michael and his family had come into Hard Luck a day early and taken rooms at the hotel. Elizabeth had wanted to make sure Frank was rested enough to attend the ceremony. It had been difficult for him to allow himself to be lifted out of the carriage there in town, but he'd suffered through the humiliation stoically. If people wanted to stare at him, so be it. He was determined to get on with his life.
Frank had made arrangements to meet with Allen Foster that morning. The banker had come to him in the hotel room, and Frank had paid off all of Jack's debts.
Elizabeth and Frank were waiting now for Michael and Nick to join them, and then they would all go over to the church together. Michael and Nick were right on schedule, and she let them into the room for a moment.
"You look so handsome," Elizabeth told her son as she gazed up at him adoringly. He was wearing his best suit, as was Nick. "Cassandra is a very lucky girl to be getting you for a husband."
"That she is, son," his father agreed.
"Are you ready to go to church?" Michael asked. He knew it would take them a little longer than usual with his father in the wheelchair.
"Yes, we're ready. I can't wait to see Cassandra in her dress. She is going to look so lovely."
"There's nothing prettier than a bride," Frank said. "Your mother looked gorgeous on our wedding day."
Elizabeth actually blushed. "Why, thank you, dear."
"It's true," he told her seriously, remembering.
"Everything is all set at your house, isn't it?" Elizabeth looked at Michael. She was still worried that something might go wrong on their wedding day.
"It's all ready," Michael assured her. They had run a little behind finishing up the house. He'd worked from sunup to sundown all week to make sure it was done. "We moved the furniture in last night. I'm sure Casey will want to change a few things once we're settled in, but it will do for now."
"She'll be proud of what you accomplished. You didn't have a lot of time."
"No, we didn't, but at least I don't have to evict all the ranch hands from the bunkhouse tonight so Casey and I could use it for our honeymoon."
Nick laughed, remembering his threat. "That's why everybody was working extra hard to help you get your house finished."
"Shall we go?" Frank suggested.
Every detail had been seen to. All that remained was for the wedding to take place.
"It's time," Elizabeth agreed.
The church was already beginning to get crowded when they arrived. They positioned Frank's wheelchair in the side aisle at the front of the church. Elizabeth sat in the pew next to him. Michael and Nick went to meet with Reverend Harris.
"Your big day has finally arrived," Reverend Harris told Michael with a smile when they found him in a small room off to the side of the altar.
"Yes, it has," he agreed. "Is Casey here yet?"
"I haven't seen her, but I'm sure she'll be along. Why don't you two wait back here? I'll let you know when it's time to begin."
He left them alone as he went out to make sure everything was going smoothly.
"It won't be long now," Nick remarked with a grin.
"No, it won't," Michael agreed. In only a matter of minutes, Casey would be his wife.
"I never imagined when I came west with you that I'd end up being best man at your wedding."
"Neither did I."
"I know we've never talked about this, but I think Casey is the best thing that's ever happened to you," Nick told him.
"You do?"
"I liked her from the first time I met her there at the stable, and then once I found out more about her... well, I think she is one special woman. You're lucky to have her."
Michael was thoughtful. Casey had been a part of his life for a long time. Things were never dull when she was around, that was for sure. Her transformation from looking like a ranch hand to the lady she'd been the night of the dance was nothing short of amazing. He didn't know how this marriage of theirs was going to work out, but he planned to do everything in his power to make sure they had as good a life together as possible.
The terms of their agreement played in his mind, along with the memory of her kiss. He knew she expected him to honor the deal they'd made that theirs would be a marriage in name only but it wasn't going to be easy for him.
"You're right, Nick. She is special."
As he spoke, the organist began to play, signaling that the time had come for the wedding to begin.
Reverend Harris returned for them. He led Michael and Nick out to stand at the end of the aisle with him as they awaited Casey's coming.
Jack stood with Casey and Anne in the vestibule of the church.
"I wish your mother could see you now," he told Casey, his gaze lovingly upon her.
"She's watching us," Casey said with certainty.
"You're sure?"
"Absolutely."
Jack pressed a kiss to her cheek, then helped her adjust her veil.
The wedding march began.
"Ready?" Anne asked Casey as she handed her her wedding bouquet. The flowers for Casey's bouquet and her own had come from her mother'sgarden.
"Yes. I'm ready," she replied.
Anne walked ahead of them and started down the aisle.
Jack took Casey's arm and drew her to the door.
The church was full of family and friends. Everyone turned to watch as Anne began to walk slowly down the center aisle.
Anne looked even more beautiful than usual today. The demure pale blue gown she was wearing was suitable for church. It was high-necked and long-sleeved and trimmed in white lace. Anne had styled her hair up away from her face, and she was carrying a small bouquet of fresh flowers, trimmed in blue ribbon.
Anne reached the front of church and smiled at Nick, who was waiting there for her. They faced the minister, then moved apart as
Michael stepped forward to wait for Casey to come to him.
Jack appeared with Casey on his arm at the far end of the aisle. They slowly made their way to the front of the church.
Casey lifted her gaze to see Michael standing with Reverend Harris, waiting for her before the altar. Her heartbeat quickened at the mesmerizing sight of him, so tall and handsome. As she walked with her father down the aisle, she was aware only of Michael.
Soon, they would be married.
Soon, she would be his bride.
They reached the front of the church. Casey felt only an instant of panic as her father prepared to hand her off to Michael. She turned to her father and kissed him. Tears burned in her eyes as she realized this was the end of h£r life as she'd known it.
Michael was her future.
Casey turned to the man who would soon be her husband.
Michael took her hand in his. She was a vision of beauty as she stood before him. She looked angelic in the wedding gown. Their gazes met. He could see the sheen of tears in her eyes and the shadow of uncertainty that was haunting her, and he wanted to reassure her. He smiled.
Casey hadn't thought Michael could look any more handsome, but when he smiled, he was even more devastating. She smiled tremulously back at him, and then they faced the minister, ready to begin what was to be their life together.
"Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to join this man and this woman in holy matrimony," Reverend Harris intoned.
John McQueen was in attendance, only because he knew his absence would have been noticed in the tight-knit community. He was sitting toward the back of the church, silently raging to himself.
He didn't want to be there. He didn't want to watch Casey many another man. He wanted her, and her ranch, for himself, but it wasn't going to happen.
She really was going to go through with this marriage to Michael.
John knew he was going to need a few stiff drinks after this wedding was over.
"Do you, Cassandra Turner, take this man, Michael Donovan, to be your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, to love and to cherish, in sickness and in health, for better or worse, until death do you part?" Reverend Harris asked, looking straight at Casey.
"I do," Casey answered without hesitation.