High Plains Promise (Love on the High Plains Book 2)

by Beaudelaire, Simone

  “Is everything all right?” she asked.

  “Can I come in?” Allison pleaded. “I need to talk to you.”

  “Of course, Allie.” Becky ushered her inside, shutting the door and urging her to a seat on the bed. “What's happening?”

  “It's…Well, it's Wesley.” Allison's hands were shaking. Becky noticed and grasped them.

  “What about him?”

  “He… asked me to marry him.” She gulped.

  Becky seemed completely unsurprised. “Well, when's the wedding then?” she asked, her eyes glazing over as she contemplated… something. Probably dresses.

  “Sunday, after church, if Cody will agree.”

  That got her sister's attention. Becky blinked. “Sunday? Like, the day after tomorrow? What will mother say?”

  “Oh, please, Becky, don't tell her,” Allison begged. “She'll make a big fuss. This is meant to be, and exactly what I want.”

  Becky seemed to consider for a long time. Allison began to feel like squirming with nerves.

  “Fine,” she said at last. “Far be it for me to get in the way. Just be careful, please?”

  “All right,” Allison agreed, though exactly what she was supposed to be careful about, she wasn't sure.

  Chapter 7

  Allison wasted no time putting their rash plan to work. First thing in the morning, she hurried into a warm woolen dress, called to her parents that she was going to work and stepped onto the porch, waiting outside. She had not discussed the plan with them and had no intention of doing so until it was irrevocable. They would not be best pleased. But Allison had waited far too long for Wesley. Now that he wanted to marry her, she was going to make it happen, no matter what anyone said.

  Away down the street she saw his door open, and his familiar dark head appeared, hair instantly blown into disarray by the Kansas wind. He held Melissa's hand. Allison crossed the street heedlessly and ran to him, taking his free arm. The three of them walked the three blocks to the vicarage, in the shadow of the big church steeple.

  As they approached the door, Allison began to realize the awkwardness of their actions. Cody and Kristina had married yesterday. They might well be… busy, doing intimate things together.

  It didn't stop Wesley from knocking. Blessedly, when Kristina opened the door she was dressed and looking… almost her usual self. A hint of color in her cheeks suggested an interesting night, but she acted normal and not too flustered.

  “Is Reverend Williams in?” Allison asked. “We need to talk to him.”

  “He went over to the church to prepare his sermon. I think he was distracted.” A hint of a smirk appeared on Kristina's lips, and then faded into a blush.

  “I'll go,” Wesley offered.

  “You two come on in,” Kristina urged, opening the door wide and leading them into the cozy single-room dwelling. “Would you like some tea?”

  “Yes, please,” Allison said eagerly.

  “No tea,” Melissa pouted.

  “Of course not, darling,” Kristina reassured her. “Let me get you a cookie instead. Here, have a seat at the table.” She boosted Melissa into a chair and walked over to the cabinet. Pulling out a tin, she retrieved an oatmeal raisin cookie and brought it back to the child.

  “That's all right, isn't it?” she asked Allison.

  And rightly so. If all goes according to plan, I'll be Melissa's mother in a couple of days. “Yes, it's fine.

  As the girl nibbled the cookie, the two ladies sat down to cups of tea on the sofa.

  “So what's going on, Allison?” Kristina asked. “I assume you're here for a reason.”

  “Yes. Um, Wesley… he… he asked me to marry him.”

  Kristina quirked an eyebrow. “Are you sure you want that after… everything?”

  “Kristina, I've waited so long for this. You can't imagine how bad I want to marry Wes.”

  “I know you do, hon, but are you sure it's best for you?” The look of concern on her friend's freckled face made Allison want to cry.

  “How could it not be?” she asked.

  “Well, it's awfully fast…”

  “I don't think you're one to lecture me about too fast,” Allison said archly, giving her friend a stony look.

  “Fine. Cody and I did marry fast. Yes. You know what you want, I suppose. But have you considered this? He's not the same Wesley we knew as kids.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “He's been through hell,” Kristina reminded her bluntly. “Can you imagine what it must have been like, being married to Samantha all those years? And he's a father now. So much of the innocent young man you fell in love with is gone.”

  Allison shook her head. “I don't care. He's still Wesley. Before anything else bad can happen, before anyone can come between us, I want this done. Kristina, if I can't have him, I don't want anyone.”

  “Calm down, Allison,” Kristina said, trying to soothe her friend. “I'm not trying to tell you not to do it. Just to be sure you've considered all the options.”

  “No matter what anyone says, I will marry Wesley. I never thought I would get this opportunity. I'll never give it up.”

  The ladies fell silent, contemplating the situation, and a few minutes later, Cody and Wesley entered the front door, wearing matching grim expressions. Discussing a wedding should have been a joyous event. But this was a wedding like no other, a desperate, secret union, which was as likely to lead to disaster as joy.

  “Hello, darling,” Kristina said to her husband.

  “Mrs. Williams.” He leaned down and touched his lips to her cheek before taking a seat in one armchair. Wesley perched in the other.

  “Well,” Cody said, “does everyone know what's going on?”

  “Yes,” Kristina replied, “Allison has been filling me in. What do you think?”

  “I think there are some potential problems with this scenario,” Cody replied soberly. “And I'm not going to give my opinion until I've heard from the bride in question. Miss Spencer, can you please tell me your take on all this?”

  Allison spoke in her firmest voice. “It's simple. I want to marry Wesley. What more is there to say?”

  “You want to marry him, knowing he's still grieving his wife, knowing that he's in… a bad state. You're willing to take him on as-is, daughter in tow, and a mother who doesn't like you?”

  “Yes.” She folded her hands in her lap and challenged Cody with a direct look.

  “Why?”

  “There's nothing I would refuse him. This is not the worst thing he could have asked me.”

  She lifted her head and turned away from him to meet Wesley's eyes. There was guilt in his expression.

  “What do your parents say?”

  “I haven't asked them. I'm twenty-four years old, Reverend Williams. I want to get married. My best friend has asked me. I'd like it done as soon as possible.”

  “How soon?”

  “Tomorrow.”

  Kristina overturned her cup, spilling the dregs of her tea into the saucer. She clearly hadn't realized what a short timetable they wanted. She got up and carried her dishes to the sink.

  Kristina returned, but instead of sitting next to Allison, she stood behind Cody's chair and laid a hand on his shoulder. The moment he realized the space was unoccupied, Wesley was in it, taking Allison's hand in his. She curled her fingers around his hand, holding him tight.

  Cody gave them a long look, and then he turned to face the table.

  “Melissa,” he called. The little girl raised her head. Crumbs dropped from her lips and chin with the movement. It appeared that, though she'd long since finished her treat, she'd become distracted playing with the saltshaker and hadn't wiped her face. “Can you come here please?”

  She scrambled down and ran across the room, climbing onto his lap. He brushed the remaining bits of cookie from her face.

  “How are you, Melissa?” he asked.

  “I miss Mommy,” she replied.

  “I bet. But your momm
y is always with you. You just can't see her anymore. Melissa, would you like a new mommy? One you can see?”

  The child considered. “Can it be Auntie Allie?”

  “Yes, Melissa. It can be,” he told her, defeated by the child's wishes. Allison exhaled in relief. Now everything would be all right.

  On December 23rd at noon, Allison and Wesley stood below the pulpit of the church. The service had ended fifteen minutes ago, and the congregation had gone home. All but Cody, Kristina, Melissa, and the two of them. Kristina would act as witness. Cody performed the ceremony. They had taken no time for fancy preparations. Allison wore only a Sunday skirt in sage green, a white shirtwaist, and a black shawl. Wesley wore a black suit, like he did any other Sunday. Melissa had on a woolen dress in a shade of dark rose. There was nothing about their apparel to suggest the solemnity of the event. Allison held Wesley's hands and looked deep into his eyes.

  He looked strained, as though he might be about to crack. She squeezed his fingers, soothing him, reminding him that she wanted what he was offering. He gave a weak smile.

  “I now pronounce you man and wife,” Cody said softly. Allison closed her eyes. She'd done it. She was Wesley's wife. Her lifelong dream had finally come true.

  “Auntie Allie, does this mean you're my mommy now?” Melissa asked, rushing between them and jumping into her arms.

  “I would like to be, Melissa. Is that what you want, too?”

  “I don't know. Do you think it will make my other mommy sad?”

  “Your other mommy is an angel now,” Allison said diplomatically. “I think she'll want whatever makes you happy.”

  “Maybe I'll call you Mamma Allie instead of Auntie.”

  “I think that will be fine, sweetheart.” Allison kissed the little girl on the cheek.

  “Shall we go home, Mrs. Fulton?” Wesley asked softly.

  “Yes, fine,” Allison replied. “But we have to go back to my… to my parents' house. Let them know what happened, where I'm going…”

  But there was no need. The door of the church burst open and Mrs. Spencer charged in, her bosom heaving, yelling at the top of her lungs. “What the devil is going on here?”

  “Mrs. Spencer,” Cody said in his most soothing voice. He never got to continue.

  “Tell me it's not too late. Tell me you didn't just marry my daughter to this…”

  “Mother, stop!” Allison said loudly. She knew her mother had never forgiven Wesley for breaking her heart, all those years ago.

  “We're married, Mrs. Spencer,” Wesley told her, his voice calm. “It's what I should have done years ago.”

  “No!” she shrieked. “You bastard! How dare you foist your illegitimate daughter and all your mess on my innocent child? If only my husband were here, and not on that damned train, he'd make you pay, you…”

  “Mother!” Allison yelled.

  The room fell silent. All eyes focused on Allison.

  “I love Wesley and I love Melissa. This is what I've always wanted.”

  “I'll get it annulled,” Mrs. Spencer said, her voice dangerously soft.

  “You'll have no chance.” Allison met her mother's eyes, her voice like steel. “I'm of age whether you like it or not. And by this time tomorrow there will be no grounds.”

  Mrs. Spencer's pale face turned purple with rage. She opened and closed her mouth several times, but no sound came out.

  “Mrs. Spencer, why don't you come to the vicarage with Cody and me,” Kristina said soothingly. “I'll make us some tea.”

  “No thank you, Mrs. Williams,” Allison's mother said in a tight, brittle voice. “I think I'll just go home. Mr. Fulton, I had better never hear that you've mistreated my daughter in any way.”

  “No, ma'am. I'll be good to her, I promise.”

  Mrs. Spencer swept through the door. The four young adults stood and looked at each other, giving her a few minutes to get away. Then Allison took Wesley's arm, scooped up Melissa, and left as well, more than ready to go home.

  Back at the Spencer home, Rebecca was sitting in the parlor on the black sofa, sipping tea. James sat beside her, his cup ignored on the table. They sat a respectable distance apart, as any friends enjoying a Sunday lunch visit might, but every now and then, his hand slid across the seat to touch her fingers, or rest gently on her leg. Odd that her mother wasn't there. Though she didn't yet realize the couple needed a chaperone, she did tend to watch Becky like a hawk when any man was around. And no wonder. If she were honest with herself, Becky would have to admit she needed it. After that passionate interlude at her store, James had been a frequent visitor both there and here. Nothing further had been said between them, or to anyone else. They chatted like any old friends, enjoying each other's company. But the heat in his eyes reminded her that there would be more to come, and these frequent little touches also helped. He reached across again, laying his hand on hers. She squeezed his palm gently, and then stroked her fingers over it. He lifted her hand and touched his lips to the soft skin. She inhaled deeply. He nibbled one knuckle.

  And then Mrs. Spencer burst into the room in a flurry. James dropped Rebecca's hand and rose to his feet.

  “What's wrong, Mother?” Rebecca asked, alarmed at Mrs. Spencer's flushed and disheveled appearance.

  “That sister of yours! You won't believe what she just went and did.”

  Rebecca thought for a moment. “She married Wesley, didn't she?”

  “How did you know?” Mrs. Spencer demanded, apparently stunned.

  “I've been wondering since Samantha's funeral if she would. Or rather, how long it would take until she did. It's not a surprise, Mother.”

  “But he already broke her heart once…”

  “And it's her heart. If she wants to risk it with him again, that's her choice, isn't it?”

  “Why are you taking his side, Rebecca?” Mrs. Spencer narrowed her eyes at her oldest child.

  “I'm not, Mother. I just think that since this is all she's ever wanted… well, why shouldn't one of us have the chance at happiness?”

  Her mother gave her a long, speaking look, and then flounced out of the room.

  “Rebecca,” James said softly, “she isn't the only one with that chance. Do you want me to talk to them?”

  She reached out her hand and he grasped it, lifting her to her feet. “Not today, James. I think Mother's reached the limit of what she can handle today. But soon, please?”

  She knew she was begging. Hated it. James glanced at the closed door to the parlor and pressed one brief, chaste kiss to her lips.

  “Oh yes, Rebecca. I'll talk to them soon.” He smudged her lips with his once more and then released her. It was time for him to go home.

  Chapter 8

  Melissa had been tucked into bed for the night. Allison had retrieved her clothing from her parents' home, while Becky kept Mrs. Spencer occupied. Now her possessions were stashed in Samantha's bureau and wardrobe. Wesley's late wife's clothing had been added to the empty guest room, to be dealt with later. The bed had been turned down earlier and awaited them. Wesley sat on the armchair in the corner of the room.

  Allison approached and he pulled her onto his lap. This was it. The moment he'd waited and longed for so many years. The night he finally got to make his virgin bride into his wife. Suddenly, he didn't want to. Cody had been right. Her mother had been right. He was taking advantage of her willingness, and he was in no condition to give anything good back to her.

  “What's wrong, Wes?” she asked him, perceptive as usual.

  “Everything,” he replied honestly, his heart aching. “This isn't right.”

  “Wesley, this is the first right thing we've done in years. It's perfect.” She put her hands on his cheeks and leaned in to kiss him. “There. Now things are just as they should be.”

  He looked at her, confused.

  “We didn't get to kiss at our wedding. It felt… incomplete. Now I really feel married.”

  “You really are,” he said, amazed by his
girl, as usual. “I wish I could be better for you.”

  “You will be. For now, Wes, let me take care of you. Later on, when you're better, you can return the favor.”

  What an angel. He claimed her lips for another sweet kiss. She was his wife. She loved him. He turned her, so she was straddling his lap, pressing her down onto the growing rigidness of his sex. Now he desired her, but she felt strange to him. For four long years he'd been caressed by eager, experienced hands. Allison, it seemed, had no idea she should touch him and encourage him. Her hands stayed planted firmly on his shoulders. She didn't grind herself against him, or rub her breasts on his chest. Her lack of experience confused him.

  He tried again, pressing his tongue into her mouth. She submitted, but did not respond. He sat back, defeated.

  “What is it?” she asked.

  “This just feels wrong. I mean, it's not you, Allie. You're still the right girl, the same sweetheart I wanted so badly four years ago. But I'm not the right man anymore. I dreamed about this perfect wedding night, the two of us giving our innocence to each other. But I ruined that dream. For the last four years I've been experiencing passion. And now… I have no innocence left to give.”

  “Then give me your experience, Wes,” she urged. “I don't know what I'm doing, but I want you as much as ever. Teach me to be the wife you want. Teach me how to please you.”

  “It's not that, Allie, I…” He broke off as she kissed him again. This time she understood what he wanted and unleashed her innocent passion, driving her tongue deep and running her hands over his shirt. She let instinct guide her, that and her own innate desires. In her mind, she called up images of all the liberties they'd taken, back when they were betrothed. How lovely his hands had felt on her body. Now he was her husband. He could touch her any way he wanted, but he was holding back.

  She ran her hands down his arms, until she could lace her fingers through his. Then she lifted and placed his hands on her breasts.

  “Please, Wes. Don't stop. Make me your wife right now.”

  “Oh, Lord, Allie,” he groaned, “is that really what you want?”