High Plains Promise (Love on the High Plains Book 2) (7 page)

“I don't want to talk. I want to… do something. Anything. But what can I do? Sam is dead. She's dead, Allison. I failed her. I should have done more.”

“There's nothing more you could have done. And she's gone. That part is over. You can't worry about her anymore. The question is, what are you going to do for Melissa and for yourself?”

“Damned if I know,” he replied. Then he realized she'd unknowingly gotten the conversation back on track. “I have to be back at work two days after Christmas. She's three. She's not even in school yet. Who will watch over her while I'm at the bank? Who will cook and take care of the house? I don't even know how to do those things. What can I do, Allison? I'm barely hanging on now. If I have to be at work all day…”

“What about your mother?”

He quirked an eyebrow at her, willing her to take the hint.

She got it. “I know, but at least she could watch over Melissa for a while as you figure out what's next.”

“I already asked her,” he said coolly, trying not to react, again, to his mother's unhelpfulness.

“She didn't refuse?”

Wesley nodded. “She said she did her time taking care of children, and wasn't going to use her `golden years' to do more of the same.”

“Wes, don't take this wrong, but I really don't like your mother.”

He grinned wryly. “She doesn't like you either, Allison.”

“It used to worry me, but I don't care anymore.” She lifted her shoulders briefly.

“Are you sure about that?” He pressed with the question. It was time to move this conversation forward.

“I'm sure I no longer care whether your mother likes me. Our engagement ended when you married Samantha. Why on earth would her opinion matter to me now?”

“Well… no. Never mind.” His eyes veered away from her face. This was too much. He shouldn't even ask it of her.

“What is it, Wes?” Allison placed her hand against his cheek and turned him back to face her. The warmth of her fingers sank soothingly into his skin.

“No, I can't, Allison.”

“Wesley Fulton, for Heaven's sake. Speak. What is going though that mind of yours?”

Out with it, Fulton. She wants to know. Let her decide for herself.
“It's just… well… I need a wife, Allison. I can't work and raise my daughter and take care of the house alone. There are only two women in the world I trust with Melissa, and Kristina just got married so…”

“So?”

“So, would you consider… reinstating our engagement?” Good Lord, that sounded even worse than he had expected. He'd be lucky if she ever spoke to him again.

She blinked. “You mean when your year of mourning is up?”

“No. That's too long; I need you now. I need this to be your home, and for you to be here with me. I need you after Christmas, to care for Melissa when I go back to the bank. Hell, I need you before Christmas, just so her first holiday without her mother isn't a total disaster.”

She just looked at him, her expression shell-shocked.

“I know it's a lot to ask, but would you consider it, Allison? I need you.”

She shook her head, not to say no, but as though to clear it, and put her hands over her face. “When?” she croaked.

“Tomorrow? Sunday? Whenever Cody can do it.”

“Oh, Lord, Wes. You want the pastor to perform a wedding, the day after his own?” She dissolved into hysterical giggles.

He turned away and regarded the window. Outside, black night had settled over the town. Of course she would say no. It had been a stupid thought.

She pulled him back around again, making him look into her eyes. She had always had the most beautiful eyes.

“Yes, Wesley.”

A loud buzzing sounded in his ears, as her delicate pink lips formed the words. “Yes?”

“Yes. On one condition.”

Wesley rubbed his jaw and temples, trying to get the buzzing to stop. It sounded like a thousand bees were inside his head. “What condition?”

“It has to be a real marriage. I refuse to be your glorified housekeeper. It's all or nothing, Wes.” Her pink cheeks told him she knew what she was saying. Then, for the first time in four years, she leaned forward and kissed him, briefly.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” he asked.

“Oh yes,” she replied. “I agreed to marry you five years ago. A year later, I lost you. Now I have this opportunity. I'm not letting you go.”

Wesley nodded.

“But if you go to bed with another woman, ever again…”

“I won't. I swear!” He grabbed her and kissed her, trying to tell her everything, all the confused contradictory emotions that were roiling through him. She was the solution to all the problems he had, and several he wasn't ready to admit to.

That night, Allison knocked on her sister's door. Becky answered, her long, blond hair tightly braided and hanging over her shoulder.

“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.

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 mommy 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 23
^rd
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…”