The Way We Wed

by Pat Warren

  She shook her head. “I wouldn’t know where to begin.”

  His lunch forgotten, Jeff moved closer, putting his arm around her. “The same way you told me about Eric—slowly, in your own words.”

  She kept staring at the clouds gently moving in a dreary sky, one hand tracing the seam of her jeans. She was quiet so long that Jeff wondered whether she’d speak at all. Finally, she did, her voice low, strained.

  “My father’s name is Charles Buckner. You may not have heard of him, but on the East Coast, many people know him as a wealthy financier, a shrewd but fair businessman, a generous philanthropist. As his only daughter, I was doted on. Growing up, he denied me nothing and spoiled me rotten. As I moved into my teens, I always thought his love and affection for me was why my mother was so cool and indifferent. I thought she was jealous of Dad’s feelings for me. Little did I know.” Pausing, she drew in a breath as if to steady herself. Her hand settled on Jeff’s resting at her waist, her fingers lacing with his.

  He noticed that her hand was cool, and decided the weather had nothing to do with that. Her emotions had her churning, the memories he was forcing from her tying her in knots. Still, he didn’t back down because he honestly felt whatever was troubling her needed to be said, to be out in the open before they could truly share an intimate relationship. Evidently whatever it was still had the power to freeze her up some twenty years later.

  “I’d graduated from college that spring and finally gotten Eric out of my life. I was twenty-two with the world at my feet, or so I thought. I’d planned on going into public relations at one of Dad’s companies, to start at the bottom and learn the business from the ground up. I remember my folks had gone away for the weekend and I was all alone in the house, probably for the first time ever.

  “It’s a huge house in upstate New York, and I wasn’t really alone because there was Wanda, the housekeeper who’d been around as long as I could remember. She lived in, but there was also a cleaning woman who came twice a week and a cook who came for dinner parties and a whole gardening crew. To this day, I can’t remember what I was searching for when I went up into the attic the afternoon they were due home. Anyhow I was rummaging through this old trunk and I found a box containing some of my baby pictures that I’d never seen. Naturally, I was interested, so I looked at them, then searched for more. That’s when I ran across several documents that changed my life.”

  Jeff wondered if she was aware that she was squeezing his hand as if holding on for dear life. He didn’t make a sound or a move, but let her pause long enough to find the strength to go on.

  “I couldn’t figure it out at first. The top page was a legal document stating that a woman named Angela Rosetti was relinquishing all rights to an infant girl named Grace for the sum of twenty-five thousand dollars. It was signed by Angela and my father and witnessed by our family lawyer and someone else whose name I didn’t recognize. It wasn’t until I noticed that the document was dated one day after I was born that I really paid attention.”

  Tish drew in a shaky breath. “The second page was a legal document stating that the same child named Grace was legally adopted by my father and my mother, Eleanor Buckner, dated the same day, and that the child’s name was changed to Tish Buckner. At this point, I assumed that Angela Rosetti had been an unwed mother and that my father and mother had adopted her baby girl, me. The money exchanged bothered me, but it was the third page that ravaged my world.

  “It was a letter from Angela Rosetti to Dad, handwritten in ink, with several blotches as if tears had fallen on the paper. In it, she begged him to take good care of their daughter. Their daughter, not her daughter as I’d begun to think. She went on to say she was sorry that she wasn’t good enough for him, that she’d believed him when he’d told her he loved her and only her, that he’d leave his wife and marry her. She went on to say she’d honor her promise to never try to see the baby, even though he hadn’t honored his promise to her, because she wanted what was best for the child’s future. She ended by saying she would always love him. The final document was a birth certificate for a baby girl, Grace, stating the mother to be Angela Rosetti and the father to be Charles Buckner.”

  Jeff shifted slightly and saw a lone tear trail down her cheek. He caught it on his finger and held her tighter.

  Once begun, Tish seemed to need to say it all. “I sat there a long time, trying to figure things out. When I heard my parents returning, I carried all four papers downstairs and confronted them. My father became furious, first with my mother for not burning those papers years ago and then me for snooping, as he called it. When I told him the box they were in had my name on it, he calmed down, but not much.

  “Charles Buckner is known as the persuader in business circles. The best negotiator on the East Coast, one magazine article had labeled him. So he went to work trying to win me over. He breezed over the fact that he’d been on a business trip early in his marriage and run into a woman named Angela Rosetti, small and pretty with long dark hair. He’d had an affair with her, the only time he’d been unfaithful in his marriage, he swore. Some months later, Angela Rosetti contacted him and told him she was pregnant.”

  Tish swiped at another tear, speaking over her shoulder to Jeff. “I’ll bet you never thought I’d have such a sordid tale in my background.”

  “Honey, you don’t know what sordid is.”

  “I think I do. You see, my father confessed then, right in front of the woman I’d always thought of as my mother, the woman who all my life had been cool and indifferent to me, that he’d learned Eleanor couldn’t have children so when Angela called with the news that she was pregnant, he decided they’d adopt her child. Simple as that, he’d said, smiling. But his wife’s eyes were cold as winter, with just cause, I felt.

  “I interrupted him and told him I’d read Angela’s letter and she didn’t seem happy about the adoption, that she’d loved him and had believed he’d leave his wife and marry her as he’d promised. As easily as he’d swat a pesky fly away, he dismissed her words as the raving of a poor, pitiful woman, saying she’d come from the wrong side of the tracks, a second-rate background, blue-collar parents, not our kind. Then he added the words that have haunted me. Don’t you see? he asked me with a straight face. I did it for you, so you’d have a better life than you could have had with her. I did it because I love you.”

  Jeff honestly didn’t know what to say. He turned her so she faced him, clutching both her hands, but her eyes were downcast, and he waited for the rest.

  “I couldn’t leave it alone. What about a mother’s love for her child? I literally screamed at him. What about your wife? How could you bring your illegitimate child into this marriage, causing her to resent me all my life? And his wife, who was not really my mother, didn’t bother to deny my accusation. But his only answer was that he did it in the name of love. By then I was hurt, angry, furious really. I railed at him that he evidently thought my real mother was good enough for a fling but not good enough to marry the great Charles Buckner. He stormed out then, telling me he didn’t want to discuss this anymore. His wife started crying and went to her room.”

  “How did you manage to coexist with them after the truth was finally out?” Jeff wanted to know.

  “I didn’t. You know, thinking back, I’d wondered most of my life how odd it was that Eleanor was tall, blond and fair, and my father was over six feet with sandy-brown hair. And here I am not very tall with this dark brown—almost black—hair and an olive complexion. However, I thought I was a throwback to some European relative.

  “And I was, only they were Angela Rosetti’s relatives who came from Italy. As I mentioned, I couldn’t let things be. I hated my father for lying to me and for what he’d done to Angela, bullying her into selling her child, probably blackmailing her somewhere along the line so she’d never contact him again. And I wasn’t too fond of Eleanor who’d blamed an innocent child and made her pay for her husband’s infidelity. So I went searching for Angela Rose
tti.”

  “Good for you,” Jeff said, proud of her.

  “Unfortunately, I was too late. I traced her family to Philadelphia and went there only to find she’d died three years before. She’d never married and had used the money from my father to care for her sick mother. Her married sister, Dolores, knew all about Charles, knew that Angela loved him, yet they welcomed me with open arms. She told me that Angela didn’t want to accept the money, but their mother was so ill and she didn’t have insurance. They’re such nice people. I still keep in touch with them.”

  “What about Charles and Eleanor?” he asked.

  “I never spoke to my father again after that day. I moved out, lock, stock and barrel. I heard that Eleanor died about five years later and Charles is still alive, probably still scheming. All in the name of love, of course.”

  So now he knew why the very word upset her. “You’re right. People make a lot of mistakes and blame it on love.”

  “Yes, they do. Dad said he was trying to protect me. From what? I asked him. From a life of poverty with low class, uneducated people, he’d answered. Nice viewpoint, eh? Growing up, I’d never realized what a snob he was. But love isn’t only about protection. Love without truth is a travesty.”

  “Like Eric claiming to love you when the truth was he was using you.”

  Head bent, she nodded. “Yes, exactly.”

  “Tish, when I said I had a lot of love stored up, that was the truth. I couldn’t love my selfish, drunken parents and I had no real friends, shuffled through the foster care system and living on the streets. East was my first friend and I came to love him as the father I never had. Not only because he took me in, taught me, nourished me, but because he earned my respect, my trust. He’s honest and always tells me the truth. So, I agree with you.”

  Slowly, she raised her head. “I’m glad.”

  “But I also don’t want you to be afraid of love. Eric’s so-called love was self-serving and so was your father’s. But mine isn’t. You’ll see that in time. You’ll trust me because I have no ulterior motives, just these solid, overwhelming feelings for you. And if you’re going to say it’s lust not love, please don’t. I admit to lusting after you—” he smiled “—but it’s far more than that. And it’s real.”

  The eyes that met his were still troubled. “I want to believe you, to trust you. But I need time.”

  Jeff smiled. “I know and I’ll try not to rush you. I can be patient when the prize is worth the wait. And you definitely are.” He eased her into his arms, kissed the top of her head and just held her as they sat silently enjoying the view. He knew it had taken a lot out of her, revealing so much.

  Holding the wildflowers he’d given her, she inhaled the sweet fragrance. “I think flowers are nature’s greatest invention. They’re like children—all they ask is that you tend them and love them. That must be why my adopted mother never could grow a flower of any kind in her garden. She tried and tried, but she was so filled with resentment that she couldn’t have babies of her own yet had to raise her husband’s child that her garden was barren.”

  Silently, he held her, hoping his presence would ease her troubled memories. Later, Jeff couldn’t have said how long they stayed like that, listening to each other’s heart beating, just being quiet together. He only knew that that had been a turning point in their relationship. It hadn’t been easy getting her to trust him enough to open up, but he felt that now that she had, in time she’d learn to love him.

  Leaning back in his airline seat, Jeff smiled, remembering how things had been when they’d finally arrived back at the ranch. Even though John and Tanya had shared a tent that rainy night, they received no sidelong looks, no knowing glances. But the agents had quickly singled out Jeff and Tish and labeled them a romantic twosome.

  He had to admit they probably gave themselves away. Although they spent the next week doing work on the ranch with the horses and cattle much as they had the previous week, there was a decided difference in their demeanor. The looks they’d shared, even across a crowded room, had been heated and simmering. The moment Jeff entered a room, his eyes automatically searched for Tish, and she seemed to do the same. If she’d been chatting with others in a group, she soon made some excuse and headed toward Jeff. As often as not, the two of them would then slip away to be alone.

  Of course, people noticed. Like during the goldfish incident.

  Naturally, there was no room for pets in the lodge with agents coming and going. But one day in town, Jeff decided to surprise Tish so he bought two goldfish with all the equipment—bowl, rocks, food, a decorative ceramic arch. He hurried back, planning to set it all up in her room while she was out, with the aid of Naomi Star who had keys to all the rooms.

  Unfortunately, as Jeff rushed to the elevator, the plastic bag filled with water and fish broke open. There they were, Naomi and Jeff, on the lobby floor, trying to capture the flopping fish before they died without water. The commotion brought several people running. Next thing he knew, there were five or six people scurrying after fish, getting more water, mopping the floor.

  And that’s when Tish walked in.

  His surprise sort of fizzled, but by the time he set everything up on her dresser, with the whole entourage watching, of course, she was shaking her head and smiling. It was hard to miss the loving looks passing between them so, despite Tish’s wish for secrecy, everyone knew.

  When they’d all left and Jeff and Tish were alone in her room with the fish, he took her in his arms and kissed her long and deliciously. Easing back, Tish gazed up at him. “You’re too much, Jeff Kirby. I never know what you’re going to do next.”

  “That’s what keeps life interesting,” he said.

  Still, she stared at him, as if trying to see into his mind. “You’re completely opposite of what I thought I wanted in my life. You’re funny when I felt I needed solid and serious. You’re adventurous when in my personal life, I need calm. But—but you make me smile, laugh, feel good.” She inched closer. “And when you kiss me, oh, Lord! Bells and whistles and horns.”

  Jeff just grinned and kissed her again.

  That incident and others had him feeling fairly confident that Tish was learning to care more and more for him every day. And still she hadn’t said those three little words he’d been longing to hear. He was wondering if she ever would when something happened that brought them both up short.

  The day had started out like any other. Tish had been working with the newborn calves and Jeff had been helping Tex, one of the more experienced hands, break in a horse. By late afternoon, both Tish and Jeff were tired and looking forward to some private time together. So they’d gone to their rooms, showered and put on fresh clothes, then ridden out to a favorite spot they’d discovered alongside a brook in the shadow of the mountains. It was twilight, that lovely time when the day was almost ready to drift away and the night not quite prepared to put in an appearance.

  Plum and crimson and amber put paintbrush streaks across a clear blue sky as they rode out of sight of the Red Rock Ranch. They spread their blanket under an old cottonwood tree and scarcely had it hit the ground before he scooped her in his arms, hungry but not for food.

  “Oh, you feel so good,” he murmured into her hair, hugging her close. “The thought of this is what kept me going all day.”

  “Mmm, me, too,” Tish whispered into his ear. “Kiss me, Jeff. I can’t wait any longer.”

  And he had, many times while he made love with her as the golden sun slowly sank out of sight. Afterward, they’d eaten their picnic dinner that Jeff had talked Elsa into packing for them. They’d talked and nibbled on cold chicken and potato salad between kisses, drawing out their time together. Finally, most reluctantly, they’d packed up their picnic things, climbed on their mounts and ridden back to the ranch.

  The rotating red light atop the ambulance was the first unusual thing Jeff spotted as they came within sight of the ranch buildings. It was parked in front of the lodge used by the tour
ists and alongside it was a police car and a group of people milling about.

  “Must have been an accident,” Tish ventured as they slowed the horses near the barn. Terry, one of the groomers, came out to take Belladonna’s reins. “What happened?” she asked the young man.

  “One of the guests had a heart attack,” Terry said as Jeff swung down off Domino. “He died instantly.”

  “Do you know his name?” Tish asked.

  “Afraid not.” The young man led both horses into the barn.

  Jeff took hold of Tish’s elbow as they hurried over to the building. They were just putting the gurney into the ambulance, a sheet draped over the victim’s body including the face. Then the ambulance attendant closed the double doors.

  Tish recognized Doreen Novak standing by the lodge door, her face red from weeping. “Oh, no,” she whispered to Jeff. “It must be Henry Novak.”

  Jeff knew that Tish had spent some time with the Novaks after learning they were from the same town in upstate New York where she’d grown up. She’d even given them a lengthy tour of the area. The couple, in their sixties, had just retired and seemed in good health.

  Leaving Jeff, Tish hurried over to the distraught woman. “Doreen, I just heard. Henry?”

  “Yes,” the widow said, fighting a fresh rush of tears. “We’d just finished dinner,” she continued, her hands worrying a crumpled tissue, “when Henry said he thought he had indigestion. The food here is so good we always eat too much. He asked me for an antacid and I’d just opened my purse to get it for him when he grabbed his chest and fell to the floor. His face was so red and a sort of gurgling sound came from his throat, then he went limp. Oh, God, I screamed and people came running. Someone gave him CPR, but it was too late.”

  Tish held her hand tightly. “I’m so sorry, Doreen.”

  “He didn’t get to enjoy but a month of his retirement.” She turned her tear-streaked face to Tish. “Just like that, he was gone. Oh, Tish, I never even got to say goodbye.”