Paradise Falls (32 page)

“I don’t unders—”

“You’re as dense as he is, teacher.” He gave a hollow laugh. “The two of you deserve each other.” When she merely stared at him he said, “I didn’t love Amelia. I didn’t even like her. But I saw her making eyes at my brother after church one Sunday and decided to prove to him that I could take her away from him. The same way. I always took everything I wanted. And do you know why?”

Without waiting for Fiona’s response he sneered, “Do you know what it’s like to have to live up to a big brother who is always so damnably perfect? In school, the earnest student. In the fields, the one who worked harder than the mules. To the people in town, to the congregation in church, he was considered a model citizen.”

“Surely you know that you’re your mother’s favorite.”

Her words had him peeling back his lips in a snarl. “That wasn’t enough. Ma was too easy. I learned how to play her before I could walk, but I always knew that Gray could see through my little games. He didn’t have to tell me. I could see that look of disapproval in that quiet manner of his, and I hated him for it. Hated that everyone admired my big brother instead of me. But that all changed after Amelia.” Flem’s tone lifted in triumph. “Amelia was so easy. All I had to do was smile at her and she thought she’d died and gone to heaven. Of course, getting her out to her uncle’s barn wasn’t as easy. She kept whimpering like a stuck pig. I warned her that if she ever told him, I’d make her out to be the town whore. Afterward, when she told me she was having a baby, I told her the truth. That I didn’t love her. Didn’t even like her. That it had all been my plan just to prove something to my brother. Of course, Gray didn’t know any of that. So when he went to her uncle and offered to marry her out of some sense of nobility, it got even better. Now it looked like Gray’s mess.”

Fiona couldn’t hide her horror and revulsion. “You allowed the whole town, and your own parents, to believe that the baby was Gray’s?”

“Why not? I thought it was the perfect touch.” He laughed when he saw her eyes fill with tears, and his fingers clutched the front of her dress, dragging her close. “Now it’s time for my ultimate revenge on my big brother. Maybe, if I’m really lucky, you’ll present him with my baby nine months from now.”

“No! Oh, no!” The sound of Rose’s voice, high-pitched with shock and fury, had him turning toward the doorway, where she was standing beside her husband, clutching his arm. “God help me, I can’t believe what I’ve just heard.”

Her face was twisted with pain, and her words were wrenched from a heart shattered beyond repair. “I wish to heaven that had been your body on the tracks, Fleming. At least then I could have mourned your death. But now, to learn of such hideous deceit from your own lips...” She turned to her husband and buried her face against his chest, sobbing pitifully.

Gray was standing just behind his parents, and it was plain, from the look of black, blinding fury in his eyes, that he’d heard everything. The sight of his brother naked to the waist, and the bodice of Fiona’s gown hanging in tatters, sent him over the edge.

As he pushed his way past his parents and into the room he paused to touch a hand to Fiona’s cheek. “Are you all right?”

She nodded. Before she could speak he lunged across the distance that separated him from his brother and locked his arms around Flem’s waist, driving him into the wall. The two of them fell to the floor and Gray rose up, landing a fist in Flem’s face. He had the satisfaction of feeling bone crunch as a fountain of blood spurted from a broken nose.

With a howl of pain Flem doubled over and pressed his hands to his face.

“Get up,” Gray shouted. “Get up and fight me, you miserable coward.”

He picked Flem up and stood him against the wall before landing a second blow to his midsection that had Flem dropping to his knees on the floor, where he curled into a ball and lay sobbing.

“Enough, son.” Broderick stepped in front of Gray and placed a hand on his arm.

“No.” Gray shook it off. “It will never be enough for what he’s done.”

“I know.” Broderick’s tone was rough with pain.

“You don’t know the half of it.” Gray brushed past his father and yanked Flem roughly to his feet.

Blood spilled down his face and stained a chest heaving with sobs. When Gray lifted a fist, Flem flinched and covered his face with his hands.

“I understand your need for vengeance,” Rose called from the doorway. “If I were a man, I’d do the same. But there’s no need, Grayson. My revenge will be enough for all of you.”

Gray turned in time to see his mother cross to the bed and sink down on the edge. Her eyes revealed the depth of her shock.

“I’ve been blind to so many things.” She shook her head. “But no longer. I see clearly now.” She pinned her younger son with a look he had never seen before. “You have brought shame to our family, Fleming. You took the innocence of a young girl. That was evil enough, but you then allowed your brother to publicly bear the blame. All these years I’ve believed the worst about Grayson. And now, you would despoil the woman he loves.” She shuddered at the very thought of what had almost happened. “You will leave my home and never return.”

“Ma...” Flem snatched up his shirt and mopped at the blood that spilled from his nose before kneeling in front of her.

She forced herself to look directly at him. Even the sight of him bleeding and broken failed to soften her heart. “I am no longer your mother. You are no longer my son. You are dead to me, Fleming. Dead. Go now.”

“You don’t mean that, Ma.”

Repulsed, she got to her feet and crossed to her husband, who wrapped his arms around her.

Gray drew Fiona close and wondered if the anger pulsing inside him would ever subside.

No one spoke as Flem’s footsteps echoed across the parlor, through the kitchen, and down the porch steps. They heard the door slam behind him, and watched through the window as he pulled on his shirt and stumbled down the lane.

The warmth of the sunlight and the happy chorus of birdsong seemed to mock the somber cloud that had settled over their day.

G
ray finished milking the cows and scraped dung from his boots before stepping into the steamy kitchen, with Chester close on his heels. He lifted the buckets of hot water from the stove and slowly climbed the stairs to his bedroom. Once there he filled the round wooden tub and bathed, then shaved, before dressing in his new black suit and stiff shoes.

He’d learned from his father that his mother had kept to her room for days. There was no reason to believe today would be any different. He was resigned to the fact that his mother wouldn’t be attending his wedding.

Not that it mattered, he told himself as he turned away and started down the stairs. The only thing that mattered to him was Fiona. She was his sun and moon and stars. She’d become his reason for living.

He climbed up to the wagon and grinned when Chester leaped up beside him. “Going to a wedding, are you?” He chuckled as the hound’s tail wagged furiously. “And why not? You love her too, don’t you?”

He flicked the reins and struggled to calm the hive of bees that were flying around in his stomach.

When he reached the church, he could see that the entire town of Paradise Falls had turned out for the wedding. The road was lined with horses and carts. The men had set up long wooden planks in the churchyard, which were already groaning under the weight of every kind of food imaginable. The women stood guard over their treasures, to assure that no one gave in to the temptation to sample the wares before the brief service. The children were dressed in their best Sunday clothes. Instead of chasing each other in games of tag, they were standing about eagerly awaiting their first glimpse of the bride, since their teacher had invited all of them to not only attend, but to participate in the ceremony.

“Gray.” Schuyler Gable offered a handshake and led him around to the back of the church, where Doctor Eberhardt was passing out cigars, and Christian Rudd was pouring glasses of foaming dark beer from a jug.

“How’re your nerves, Gray?” Dolph VanderSleet picked up one of the glasses and downed it in one long swallow.

“They’ve been better.” Gray accepted a glass and noted that his hand was none too steady.

The others shared knowing smiles.

They looked up when his father approached.

Gray arched a brow. “You brought Fiona?”

His father winked at the men standing around. “You’d better hope so, son. What’s a wedding without a bride?”

“Is she all right?”

“And why wouldn’t she be?” Seeing the look in his son’s eyes he lay a hand on his sleeve and steered him a little away from the others. “You look good, Grayson.”

“I look like Doc Eberhardt about to go off to a surgery.”

Broderick grinned. “Come to think of it, you do. All you need is a black bag.”

“Why couldn’t we just go off to Little Bavaria and let the minister there say the words?”

Broderick handed him one of the two glasses of beer he’d snagged before walking away. “Because, son, from the beginning of time women have wanted to make their wedding day. special.”

“I don’t mind special.” Gray looked over at a snort of laughter from the men, regaling one another with tales of their misspent youth. “But I don’t see why we should have to stay here and eat with the whole town, when all I really want to do is...” He stopped and flushed when he realized what he’d been about to say. “Besides, all they’ll be talking about is the fact that Ma didn’t come to the wedding.”

“Your mother is here.”

Gray’s head came up. “She agreed to come? How did you get her to do that?”

“It wasn’t my doing. It was Fiona who persuaded her.”

“How?”

“She told Rose that it was never too late to put the past behind and begin again. And then she hinted that, in order to be a proper wife to you, she might be needing some help with all Rose’s fine, German recipes.”

“And, just like that, Ma decided to come today?”

“Well, it might have also been the thought that in a few years she could become a doting grandmother. At any rate, you can see for yourself in a few minutes. The last I saw your mother, she was in the church with your blushing bride, fussing over her gown.” Broderick lifted his glass. “Before you go inside and say your vows, I’d like to offer a toast to my father, your namesake. He’d have been so proud.” His voice faltered a moment before he added, “Just the way I am, Grayson.”

“Thanks, Papa.” Gray touched his glass to his father’s before taking a drink.

“And now we’ll drink to your mama.” Broderick sipped his beer. “She’s suffered a terrible shock, but Rose is tough. She’ll get through it.”

“But will I?”

Broderick chuckled. “You will. Every man does. You’re marrying an amazing woman, Grayson. She’s smart and pretty, and best of all, wise enough to know how to forgive. That ought to prove to be quite a blessing in the years to come.”

“You think I’ll need forgiving?”

“Don’t we all?”

The two men smiled and drank.

Gray took another sip of beer before tossing the rest aside and handing the empty glass to his father.

Broderick looked at his son in surprise as he turned away. “Where are you going?”

“I need to see Fiona.”

“Now? Before the wedding? Those women will never let you near her.”

Gray never even heard him as he stalked away.

* * *

“I don’t believe I’ve ever seen a prettier bride.” Greta Gunther stood in the back of the church, watching as the crowds surged up the aisle toward their pews. “Have you, Rose?”

Rose adjusted the wildflowers in Fiona’s hair. “She is, indeed. Why don’t you join your family now, Greta? I think Fiona and I can handle this.”

“But I—”

“Go, Greta. We’ll be fine.”

When the old woman walked away Rose gave a sigh of relief. “Old fool would have walked up the aisle with you if I’d let her.”

“She just wanted to be helpful.”

“About as helpful as a millstone around my—” Rose caught herself and stopped. “There I go, running my mouth, and on your wedding day. Old habits, I suppose...”

The two looked up when Gray approached.

Rose put out a hand to stop him. “You know you can’t see your bride before—”

“Step away, Ma.” At the fierceness of his whispered words, several heads turned.

Rose squared her shoulders. “Grayson, it isn’t proper—” Fiona caught her hand. “Give us a moment, Mrs. Haydn.”

“I told you. From now on, I’d like to be called Mother Haydn.”

Fiona smiled. “Give us a moment, Mother Haydn.” Rose stepped away, but not before giving her son a warning look.

The moment he turned his full gaze on Fiona, Gray wasn’t sure he could remember how to breathe. Slowly it came to him and his chest rose with each measured breath.

“You look...” He couldn’t find the words. Beautiful seemed inadequate. “Amazing.” Still not enough, but he was too dazzled to think.

The dress was a simple column of white lace, with a high, modest neckline and long, tapered sleeves that perfectly suited her slender body. Her dark hair fell in a spill of curls to her waist. It was adorned only by a few sprigs of wildflowers. In his eyes she looked more like an angel than a bride.

“Thank you.” She dimpled. “And you look very handsome.”

Just seeing her, his nerves were forgotten, “Papa told me what you said to Ma.”

“She’s going to be fine now, Gray. And so will we.”

“I know.” He drew her close and pressed his forehead to hers. “But I needed to see you. And touch you. Just for a moment.”

She sighed. “It’s the same for me. Now I feel better.”

He drew back with a little moan of disgust. “I almost forgot.” He ran out of the church, and returned minutes later with an armload of roses, “I went by the woods behind the schoolhouse and picked these this morning.”

“Oh, Gray. Roses.” She buried her face in them to hide the quick rush of tears.

Brunhilde Schmidt began playing the music that would summon the bridal party to the altar.

“You have to go now.” Rose shot her son a warning look.