Simmer All Night

by Geralyn Dawson

  "What?" Chrissy's eyes rounded in shock. How many times had her mother fussed at her for leaving the house without putting up her hair? "But Mother, that's not..."

  "It is you, sweetheart. It's right for you. I understand that now. Let's brush it till it shines, shall we?"

  Chrissy didn't know how to respond, so she sat quietly until Elizabeth put down the brush and reached into her pocket, removing a white satin ribbon. "Is this all right with you? We can add a flower or two to make it more festive."

  "Um, yes. That's fine."

  Chrissy watched in the mirror as her mother threaded the ribbon through her hair. "So very beautiful," Elizabeth repeated. "It's the same color as your father's was when he was younger. Same texture, too. I always envied you your hair."

  "You did?"

  "I envied many things about you, Christina. That's a terrible thing for a mother to admit, isn't it? I watched you bloom from a girl into a young woman and I began to feel old. That's a pitiful, poor excuse for my behavior, isn't it?"

  Chrissy had to consciously stop her mouth from gaping open. Elizabeth smiled sadly, then met her daughter's gaze in the mirror. "I was jealous. You were so close to your father. Much closer to him than to me, and I was jealous of both of you. I just wanted to be your moon and stars, but you looked to your father for that."

  "Mama, I never knew... I didn't mean to hurt you."

  "Oh, I know that." Elizabeth tied the ribbon in a bow, then fluffed the loops. Placing her hands on Chrissy's shoulders, she said, "I've done quite a bit of thinking since Wednesday. Cole opened my eyes to many things. I want to apologize to you, my daughter, and I want to try to explain."

  Emotion welled in Chrissy's eyes and she blinked back tears. "Mama, I've done a lot of things wrong, too. I know I've been a trial for you. I'm sorry that I—"

  Elizabeth gave her shoulders a squeeze. "Hush now. This is my apology, my explanation. You see, Christina, I wanted to protect you. I've heard it said that what bothers a parent most is seeing her own faults repeated in her children. With you, it was like looking at myself twenty years younger, making the same mistakes I made. I ran away with a man, remember. I was a Scandal. It brought me the happiness of this family, but it also brought me much loneliness and pain. I didn't want you to have to go through what I did." She paused for a moment, then added, "I sound defensive, don't I?"

  "You sound honest," Chrissy said.

  Elizabeth reached for her daughter's hand and tugged her to her feet, then led her toward the bed where she sat down beside her. "I've always tried to be a perfect mother, so the challenges you gave me made me feel like a failure."

  "Challenges?" Chrissy said ruefully. "Don't you mean trouble?"

  Her mother laughed. "Semantics, but I won't argue that one. My dear, what I've come to realize these past few days is that maybe instead of trying to be a perfect mother, I should be happy being a good one. Maybe then you and I could be friends."

  "Friends?" Chrissy's smile was tremulous. "I like the sound of that."

  "I love you, Christina Elizabeth Delaney, and I'm sorry I haven't told you so often enough. I'm sorry my actions have caused you to doubt my love. I'm sorry my words have sometimes been cruel and have given you reason to doubt yourself when you should've had no doubts. Cole said it well the other day. You are like me, true, but it is our differences that make you so special. I was wrong to think you needed to change, honey. You're fine just the way you are. You're wonderful just the way you are."

  The tears spilled despite Chrissy's best efforts. "Do you mean that, Mother?"

  Elizabeth gave her hand a squeeze, then rose from the bed and walked to the wardrobe where she removed the dress bag. "I know your grandfather went to a lot of trouble to provide you this gown, honey, and it is an extremely beautiful dress. However, I thought this design might suit you better and your grandfather agrees. I made it myself. If you'd like to wear it today, I'd be honored."

  She removed the cloth cover, revealing her gift. Chrissy's breath caught. "Oh, Mama. I can't believe you... oh, I love it. I love you. This is gorgeous. It's perfect. It's..."

  "You, honey." Elizabeth's smile beamed as she added, "It's the perfect bridal gown for Chrissy Delaney."

  * * *

  "This had better be good," Cole grumbled as he followed Jake and Welby out of Hartsworth's front door. "What does the earl want with me this morning anyway? Why couldn't it wait? I'm trying to track down Christina. She wasn't in her room when I knocked, and today is the day she promised to talk. She and I have a few things to settle, you know."

  "Quit your whining, Morgan," Jake said. "This is important, and it won't take long."

  "What's it about?"

  Welby said, "You Texans aren't blessed with an abundant amount of patience, are you?"

  "You think not? I've waited since Wednesday on Christina, haven't I? That took the patience of an entire church full of saints. And I'm no saint."

  Jake snorted. "That's obvious, considering you bedded my sister before the wedding."

  Cole stopped short. "Are we going to fight about this again, or are you going to quit bringing it up every time I see you? Which is it, Delaney? One or the other."

  Jake rolled his eyes and kept on walking. Welby said, "Please, Morgan, we're almost there."

  "Where?"

  The viscount pointed, "Just over the hill."

  Cole scowled, impatience tugging at his gut. He sensed a conspiracy of one sort or another afoot here. "Jake better not be trying to dump the Declaration hunt back on me. I am not going to Scotland."

  They topped the rise and Cole gazed down upon the bucolic picture of English countryside. Sheep dotted the rolling hillside like cotton puffs and fluffy clouds dappled an amazingly sunny sky. Birds soared and swooped, their songs a source of music on the gentle breeze. A small church sat nestled among a grove of oaks and in the distance, Cole could see the slate roofs of the village.

  Jake was already halfway down the hill headed for the church. Cole wasn't too surprised by the apparent destination. After all, it was Sunday morning and the household at Hartsworth often attended services at the church rather than the manor's chapel.

  When Jake disappeared around the front of the church, Welby motioned to Cole. "Follow him, if you would. I'll be along in a minute. I believe I have a stone in my shoe."

  Cole shrugged, then walked the rest of the distance toward the church. Rounding a corner, he glanced toward the front steps and stopped dead still. "Christina?"

  "Hello, Cole."

  She stood on the front church steps dressed all in white, and could have been an angel but for the fire glistening in her hair. She looked healthy again and so beautiful she stole his breath.

  He cleared his throat. "New Chili Queen clothes, Christina?"

  "Mama made them." She twirled in a slow spin that sent the gauzy white skirt swirling about her ankles and the sleeve of the snowy peasant blouse slipping off one shoulder. "Do you like it?"

  "You're exquisite."

  She dipped into a curtsy that caused her blouse to gape and offered him a glimpse of her breasts. He damned near chewed his tongue. Searching desperately for a distraction, he said, "I went by your room earlier. You weren't there."

  "I may have been out walking. I have some things I need to say to you, and I wanted to get the words just right."

  "Oh." Cole blew out a breath. Well, he'd been wanting to settle their situation. Why, then, now that the moment had arrived, was his stomach tied in enough knots to moor a sailing ship? What if she rejected his offer of marriage? Would he be able to let her go?

  Hell, no. He wasn't letting her go. He didn't care what she said or how long it took. Chrissy Delaney was going to marry him.

  She smiled at him and said, "First I want to thank you for standing up for me to my mother. You made us both think about what has been wrong between us and how we might fix it."

  A thank you. Well, damn. So much for hoping for a declaration of everlasting love.


  "Second," she said, lacing her fingers together. "I want to apologize for doubting you. I allowed my fears to rule my heart, and as a result I treated you in a way you didn't deserve. When Wilcox put me in that tomb and told me I would die, I trusted you to find me, to save my life. I realized then how foolish I had been. If I trusted you with my life, I should certainly trust you with my heart."

  "I didn't lie about loving you, Chrissy."

  "I know. You are an honorable man, Cole Morgan. I know that you are true to your word. It was wrong of me to question it."

  Cole found himself relaxing. Maybe this wouldn't be a fight after all.

  She tucked a stray curl back behind her ear and said, "Third, I want to tell you that I love you, now and for always."

  He exhaled a breath in a whoosh. "Thank God, Lady Bug. You had me worried there. I—"

  "Hush. I'm not through yet."

  "Oh, all right."

  "Lastly..." she paused, grimaced, drew a deep breath, and started to sing,

  There's a Yellow Rose of Texas,

  That I am going to see

  No other fellow knows her

  No other, only me.

  She cried so when I left her

  It like to break my heart

  And if I ever find her

  We never more will part.

  Before the last note died, she reached into her pocket and pulled out a walnut-sized, apricot-colored habenero pepper. As she brought it to her lips, Cole recalled her claim: I'll sing "The Yellow Rose of Texas" while eating a habenero pepper in front of the church on Sunday morning before I'd marry you, Cole Morgan.

  His mouth was just starting to lift into a grin when he remembered the pain one of those peppers had given him the night she'd been crowned Queen of the Chili Queens. "Chrissy, no!"

  "I'm good for my word, too, Cole Morgan." Then she popped the pepper into her mouth. Immediately, her eyes began to water and she gasped for breath. Little squeaking sounds of pain emerged from her throat.

  At that point, the church doors flew open, and Michael and Sophie Kleberg came bounding down the steps. He held a pitcher and a goblet, she a basket of rolls. "Here's your water, Miss Chrissy," the boy said, filling the glass.

  Water sloshed over the goblet's sides as Sophie added, "We put a little holy water in there, too. We figured it's the perfect thing to douse the hellfire of that pepper. Here's Mama's bread. Do you need more than one roll?"

  As Chrissy drank thirstily, then took a bite of bread, her brother walked up and withdrew three folded pieces of paper from his coat pocket. "Here, you'll need these. I wasn't sure which one was right, so I brought 'em all. As soon as Chrissy catches her breath, we can get started. Everyone is waiting inside."

  The marriage licenses. Cole gazed at his teary-eyed bride and chuckled. "Aren't you just full of surprises, my Lady Bug."

  "Will you marry me, Cole Morgan?" she croaked.

  He grinned and cocked an eyebrow. Enjoying the moment, he twisted his lips into a thoughtful frown, and scratched behind his ear. "Hmm..." he said finally when he spied impatience glowing through the tears in her eyes. "Will I marry you? Well, Christina, does the Queen of the Chili Queens put hot peppers in her Texas Red?"

  Yes was the obvious answer.

  The bloom of her brilliant smile made him ache to hold her. Taking her hand, he yanked her against him and took her mouth in a deep, thorough kiss.

  It took a minute for his lips to start burning, but when he began to wonder if they'd actually caught fire, he released her and grabbed the water from Michael. He emptied the pitcher in a series of gulps while Christina laughed in a raspy voice. "What's the matter, Morgan? My kiss too hot for you?"

  He took her arm, and led her up the steps toward the church's front doors. There, he paused, and waited for the others to enter the sanctuary and take their seats. When he and Christina were alone, he finally answered her question. "Honey, let's just say I hope it's a very short service because I can't wait to get going on the honeymoon. You not only scorched my mouth with that kiss..."—he glanced meaningfully down at his pants—"...you put a jalapeno in my pocket, too."

  Mischief kindled in her eyes as she stood on her tiptoes and pressed a kiss against his cheek. "Don't worry, Morgan. If it gets too hot, I'll blow on it."

  The End

  Page Forward for more by Geralyn Dawson

  Excerpt from

  Sizzle All Day

  Bad Luck Abroad

  Book Two

  by

  Geralyn Dawson

  © 2000, 2011 by Geralyn Dawson Williams

  Chapter 1

  Scottish Highlands, 1884

  Jake Delaney was a man on the run.

  From his mother.

  "It's embarrassing," he told the small dog sharing the saddle with him. "I'm thirty-four years old. I'm my own man. I've driven cattle from Austin to Wichita. I've fought a gun battle with bandits in the West Texas badlands and won a knife fight with card cheats in a San Antonio whorehouse. I took my first drink when I was ten, loved my first woman at fourteen, and bought my first property at eighteen. I truly believed I had my share of sand."

  The dog snorted.

  So did Jake. Sand, hell. He'd taken one look at that matchmaking light in his mother's eyes and had run for the hills. The hills of Scotland, that is.

  The dog gazed up at him with liquid brown eyes, her long ears flopping in cadence to the horse's gait. She'd been a good, if unexpected, companion on this trip north. Jake liked females who listened well and didn't wear out a man's ears with talk of hair styles and fabrics and fashion.

  That's all he'd been hearing of late. He'd spent the past few months escorting his mother around London. Elizabeth Delaney had returned to England after more than twenty years in Texas, thrown herself into the welcoming arms of a blue-blood society, and decided her son needed to follow suit. Literally.

  "A bit of wenching is fine, don't get me wrong," he told the dachshund he'd christened Scooter. "But I'm not about to marry one of those simpering English misses. If I did want a wife—which I don't—I'd want a female with some pepper in her. I like heat in my women."

  And in the weather, too, he silently added as the dog whined and burrowed her way inside his coat. Here it was the middle of summer, but the day was cold as a dead snake in an ice house. Think of how miserable he'd feel had he made the trip during the winter months. That's when he'd first learned that the missing copy of the Republic of Texas's Declaration of Independence was likely hidden in a castle in the Scottish Highlands, and he'd been elected to go get it.

  Jake believed it to be a worthy quest. When the state capitol burned four years ago, Texas's lone copy of the historically significant document was lost to the fire. Recently, research by the Historical Preservation Society in San Antonio confirmed that in 1836, five copies of the Declaration had been penned and sent by courier across Texas in order to inform citizens of the official creation of a new republic. What, then, had happened to the four unaccounted-for copies? The Society had made it their objective to find out. They would locate the lost Declarations and bring them home to the people of Texas.

  Jake became involved because at that time, his mother had been an officer in the organization.

  Originally, Cole Morgan—Jake's brother-in-every-way-but-blood—had been charged with the task of retrieving the copy rumor had placed in England. Cole's search proved to be quite an adventure, netting him in the end one wife—Jake's sister Chrissy—but no Declaration, only a lead about where to look for it next. Supposedly, a lost copy of the Republic of Texas's Declaration of Independence could be found in the Scottish Highlands, in a place called Rowanclere Castle.

  "So here I am," he murmured. "Cold enough to spit ice."

  Jake might have been born in Britain, but he was South Texas bred. He thrived in the sizzling heat of a Texas summer, and he wasn't cut out for cold. He was more than ready to reach his destination, recover the Declaration of Independence for the people of Texas, and start
living his own life for a change.

  Jake had plans. For years now he had spent his time fulfilling responsibilities to family, friends, and country. But now his sister was blissfully married to his best friend, his mother happily reconciled with her British family, his land sold, and his law partnership in San Antonio cheerfully disbanded. As soon as this last duty was accomplished, Jake would be free to shake off the clay that had long weighted down the wings on his feet.

  He craved adventure. The wilds of Africa, the islands of the South Pacific, and the mysteries of the Far East were lures he need no longer resist. He couldn't wait to see it all, experience it all. To live it all.

  Thinking about it spurred him into picking up his pace. A short time later, his horse rounded a bend and Jake spied the end of the current trail. "Rowanclere Castle," he murmured, reining his mount to a halt so he could study the place.

  He scratched Scooter behind the ears as he blew a soundless whistle of appreciation at the sight of a fairy tale come to life. Turrets and towers and thick, weathered walls of stone rose high above the deep blue waters of a narrow lake—or loch, to use the vernacular. A colorful flag fluttered from the long pole reaching up into the sky from a tall, square keep. The rest of the castle was a hodgepodge of gabled roofs and towers and crenelated lines that softened the keep's imposing facade.

  Jake had visited larger castles since arriving in Britain, but this was certainly the most beautiful. Rowanclere possessed an air of welcome lacked by the others he'd seen along the way. This castle was no forbidding hunk of stone and mortar, appropriate as a setting for one of Shakespeare's tragedies. Rowanclere was more a light-hearted, fanciful romance, a place for a princess to dance with her prince.

  "Princess?" Jake muttered aloud. Hell. The cold must have frozen his brain. Next thing you know, he'd be composing poetry.

  He'd better get his head on straight. Castles were historically places of intrigue, and the search for this lost document had already come close to costing his sister Chrissy her life. Besides, he didn't want to die before getting a good look at those bare-breasted Tahitian women.