Texas Pride (17 page)

“Jessica!” Dylan knelt beside her. “Are you all right?”

She nodded slowly. “Dylan, how...why...” She winced as she touched her fingers to her aching skull. “What are you doing here?”

“We'll talk about it later.” He lit another match and gathered her close with one arm.

She couldn't stop the shiver running through her. “He was going to burn the church down, Dylan. All this time it was Carlton who wanted Stone Creek—for Myrna.” She pushed away suddenly and tried to stand. “Hannibal! Carlton drugged him. He's by the back door.”

Dylan helped her up, then made her sit on a pew. “I'll take care of him, but I'm going to get you back to the hotel first.” He glanced over at Carlton, who rocked back and forth, his head in his hands.

“I can manage on my own. It's Carlton who needs help,” she said quietly. Dylan started to protest, but she shook her head. “He's sick, Dylan. Please.”

With a sigh, Dylan nodded. After he relit the altar candle, he helped Carlton to his feet. Jessica stood slowly, then glanced around the church she'd come so close to losing. She breathed a long sigh of relief and smiled.

“Thank you, Meggie and Lucas,” she whispered softly.

* * *

“I still can't believe this.”

Dylan watched Jake pace the floor in Jessica's bedroom. The entire Stone family had arrived almost an hour ago and congregated in the room, with Annie and Savannah sitting on the bed where Dylan had insisted Jessica stay put. Emma sat on the floor with Hannibal's head cradled in her lap. The dog was still groggy, but opened his eyes and wagged his tail every time Emma talked to him.

Jared sat on a chair in the corner, shaking his head. “Carlton, of all people. Why would he risk everything to buy a few acres of land for his daughter?”

“Stone Creek is hardly a few acres,” Jake said.

“Myrna and Carlton don't know any other way to love each other,” Jessica said. “Money is all they have.”

“You're right.” Myrna stood at the bathroom door, her eyes red and swollen from her tears. Carlton was lying down on Dylan's bed, and she'd been in there with him since she'd arrived.

Twisting her hands, the woman moved hesitantly into the room. “Money has always been the basis for my relationship with my father. Bigger and better meant more love.” She squeezed her eyes shut. “The only problem was it was never enough.”

She started to cry then. Not the manipulating sniffles the Stone children had seen over the years, but true heartfelt tears. Savannah went to the woman and put her arms around her.

“I'm so sorry,” Myrna sobbed. “I didn't know. Please believe me.”

Jessica reached over and took Myrna's hand. “We called the doctor, Myrna. Your father may have to go to the hospital.”

She nodded. “He's ill. I didn't realize how ill. There's so much we haven't told each other.”

“You can catch up,” Jessica said gently.

“We haven't much time,” Myrna whispered.

Jessica squeezed her stepmother's hand. “It'll be enough.”

Dylan watched the exchange between Jessica and Myrna and he realized what true forgiveness was. Myrna's selfishness, and her father's obsession had nearly destroyed Jessica's dream. Yet here she was, comforting the woman.

He could learn a lot from her, he realized. About trust. About the truth.

He just didn't know if he was brave enough.

* * *

Jessica refused to stay in bed one minute longer.

She threw back the covers, pulled on her clothes and sneaked to the door. She was perfectly all right, for heaven's sake. A little bump on the head. It was certainly nothing for everybody to get so tied up in knots about. Besides, almost an entire day had passed. Even Dr. Sanders had said she was fine, that all she needed was a little bed rest. So she'd rested enough already.

Unfortunately Carlton hadn't been so lucky. He'd taken a turn for the worse after everything that had happened, and the doctor had admitted him into a hospital in Midland. Everyone, including Myrna, understood he wouldn't be coming home.

She peeked into the hallway, half expecting a guard outside her door. The coast was clear.

Quietly she tiptoed down the stairs, hesitating at every squeaky step. Savannah and Annie had fussed over her like mother hens all day, and Jared had nearly carried her back to bed when she'd tried to sneak out after dinner two hours ago.

She was fine, she'd tried to tell him. Perfectly all right.

Except that she was miserable.

But it had nothing to do with the bump on her head and everything to do with a certain six-foot-four dark-haired handsome foreman.

Dylan had left last night with barely a goodbye. He'd had the strangest look in his eyes when he stepped outside with Jared and Jake, and a few minutes later, she'd heard his bike roar out of town. The sound was like a knife through her heart.

She'd known he was leaving. She'd told herself that she was ready for it, that she could handle it. She'd even foolishly told him that she'd manage just fine after he left. Nothing could have been further from the truth.

There'd been a spark of hope last night when he'd shown up at the church. She'd thought for one insane moment that he'd come back for her. That maybe he'd realized—she paused at the foot of the stairs and closed her eyes—he loved her.

She ran her hand over the smooth oak banister and stared at the fine grain of wood. Dylan's hands had worked wonders with the wood. He had skillful hands, large and rough, gentle, yet demanding. The memory of those hands on her skin and the wonders he worked there brought a shiver to her.

She still didn't know why he'd come back last night. Perhaps she never would now.

She sighed, calling herself an idiot ten different ways for giving in to her pain. She'd move on with her life. Makeshift would keep her busy, keep her life full, even if her heart was empty.

Cautiously, expecting one of her wardens to jump out at her, Jessica moved into the kitchen.

It was empty. In fact, now that she thought about it, the hotel was quiet. Even Hannibal, who had recovered completely after sleeping most of the day, was nowhere to be seen. “Anybody here?”

No answer.

Hands on her hips, she glanced around the kitchen, then spied a note on the table.

Jess, Thought you might like some privacy. Will stop by to check on you tomorrow. The gang P.S. We let Hannibal out. You might want to go look for him and maybe get some fresh air to clear your mind.

Jessica stared at the note in her hand. They'd left her! Without so much as a goodbye! One minute they were hovering, the next, poof! Gone.

She tapped her foot on the floor and folded her arms. They were up to something. She didn't know what, but she knew there was something funny going on.

Shaking her head, she grabbed the sweater on a hook by the back door and stepped outside. The air was cool and crisp, and a brilliant ceiling of stars sparkled overhead.

Hannibal was barking down the street by the church. Not an angry bark, more of an insistent, come-here-and-play-with-me bark. Shaking her head, she moved in the direction of the church, then went still as she noticed the light flickering through the leaded glass.

No! It wasn't possible.

It couldn't be happening again!

Her heart pounded as she crept toward the open front doors.

And when she looked inside, she froze.

T
here were candles everywhere. Dozens of them. Inside the doorway, along the pews, on the altar. They swayed to the soft music of Tchaikovsky like hundreds of tiny glowing ballerinas. She stared in amazement and wonder, mesmerized by the display of dancing flames.

And there were flowers. Baskets and vases overflowing with red roses and white lilies. Their sweet scent filled the church.

This was a dream. A beautiful dream. Breath held, she moved down the aisle, taking in every detail, afraid to blink and make everything disappear.

He stood at the end of the aisle, his expression intense, his eyes dark and sensual as he watched her. She stepped in front of him and spread her hands wide.

“Dylan,” she whispered, “what is all this?”

“Tradition.”

“Tradition?”

“I believe you told me that on special occasions, the people of Makeshift lit candles in the church.”

Confused, she looked up at him. “I did, but—”

He put a finger to her lips. “I told you last night we would talk later. We never got that chance.”

“You left,” she said quietly, hoping her voice didn't sound as desperate as her heart felt.

“I couldn't stand it. Not being able to hold you, to crawl in that bed with you and pull your body against mine so I could hear your heartbeat and know you were safe.”

She was sure he could hear her heartbeat now it was pounding so loud. “You could have.”

He shook his head. “Your family had a big enough shock. I don't think Jared and Jake would take kindly to me climbing into your bed.”

She lifted one corner of her mouth. “So you
are
afraid of my brothers,” she teased.

He moved closer and gently took hold of her wrists, then placed her palms on his chest. “Do you feel that?”

His heart thundered in his chest. She nodded slowly, looking into his eyes.

“It's not your brothers I'm afraid of, Jessica, it's myself.”

The movement of his fingers on her wrists created tiny electrical currents that coursed over her arms. It was all part of the dream, she decided, and gave herself up to it. Maybe that hit on the head was a good thing, after all.

“Dean came to see me,” he went on. “Yesterday, right after you left Cactus Flat. He heard I was leaving, and he wanted me to take him and Troy with me.”

Dean wanted to leave with Dylan? “But you can't—”

He pressed his thumb to her lips. “I know that. I told him no.”

His thumb, which was now tracing her bottom lip, distracted her momentarily. She pulled in a slow breath, then reluctantly tugged his hand away. “How did he take it?”

“Not well. Oh, he pretended like it was fine, but I felt as if I'd thrown a puppy into the ocean.”

Her heart went out to Dean. He'd known so much disappointment. “What did you do?”

“What I always do when I feel trapped—get the hell out. I started to pack my things when I picked up the gloves you gave me. I sat down and put them on, and thought how well they fit me, how perfect they are.” He tilted up her chin and looked into her eyes. “Like you, Jessica.”

She didn't dare to believe what he was saying. It frightened her. Because if she was wrong, if she misunderstood, she thought she might die.

“He told me to tell you I was sorry,” Dylan said. “When I told him I had, he said, ‘Maybe you should try harder.'” Dylan brought his face closer to hers. “That's what I'm doing, Jessica. I'm trying harder, as if my life depends on it. Because it does.”

The hammering of her heart settled to a slow heavy thud. She leaned against him, certain her knees would give out if she didn't. “I—I don't know what to say.”

“Say you love me.” He brought his lips to hers, but his kiss was no more than a whisper.

The flames from the candles seemed to brighten; the smell of roses and lilies surrounded her. She felt his warm body against her own, felt his lips on hers. This wasn't a dream. It was real. “Dylan,” she murmured, “the candles and roses. I don't need all this.”

“
I
need it,” he said gently. “I wanted to give you everything I've never given anyone before. Music and flowers, candlelight. And this...”

He pulled a small box out of his pocket and flipped it open. A cluster of tiny diamonds surrounded a single solitaire. The jewels sparkled in the candlelight.

All she could do was stare. She didn't even feel the beating of her heart anymore. She was numb. Eyes wide, she looked up at him. “You've certainly been busy today.”

He frowned. “You're supposed to say, ‘It's beautiful, Dylan. I love it.'”

She smiled back. “It's beautiful, Dylan,” she whispered, and touched his cheek with her fingers. “I love you.”

“And I love you.”

He pulled her to him and kissed her like he never had before. It was a kiss that promised more, with nothing held back. A feeling of pure joy and exhilaration flowed through her.

“I don't know what I would've done if anything had happened to you last night,” he said raggedly. “If you hadn't opened those doors in time, we might not be standing here.”

She inched her face away from his. “I didn't open the doors.”

“Of course you did. They were locked, then they flew open. That's what caused the wind that blew Carlton's match out.”

“Dylan.” She cupped his face in her hands. “I was on the floor. I'd already hit my head. And the wind was
not
from the doors opening.”

He stared at her for a long time. “You can't mean...”

“Yes. I do.”

He looked up and glanced around. “Meggie and Lucas?”

She nodded.

“Well, I'll be damned.” His smile was one of amazement and acceptance. “I don't know how I'll ever thank them.”

“You already have. You saved their church. That was Meggie crying last night when Carlton almost burned it down.”

He stared into the shadows. “You think they're here right now?”

“Probably.”

Still smiling, he looked down at her. “And do you think they approve?”

“Of what?”

“Me.”

The flames brightened then and a small breeze drifted through, lifting the ends of their hair. Jessica laughed. “I'd say so.”

He shook his head incredulously, then pulled her close again. “And what about your family?” he asked. “Do I have to go to Jared and Jake and ask for your hand?”

“You ask them for my hand and I'll give you the boot,” she said indignantly. “I make my own decisions.”

He lowered his head and brushed her lips with his. “You can make any decision you want after we're married. As long as it agrees with mine. Ouch!” He winced when she bit his lip.

There was a smile in her eyes as she looked at him. “Speaking of my family, they disappeared very mysteriously tonight. I don't suppose they had anything to do with all this, did they?”

He lifted his brows innocently. “Would we do anything behind your back, Jess?”

“I'm shocked you would even ask me that in a church.”

His grin grew devilish. “If that shocks you, then wait till you hear this...”

He whispered in her ear what he wanted to do to her when they got back to the hotel. That night and the next and every night thereafter. She thrilled to his words. Breathless, she answered him, encouraged him, and when the last flame was gently extinguished, she led him back to the hotel and they let their own flame burn wild.

* * *

“Lucas, isn't it wonderful?” Meggie breathed in the scent of roses and nestled in the circle of Lucas's arms. “They're going to be married. Right here, in our church.”

Lucas pulled her closer. “Yes, my love, almost as wonderful as the feel of you in my arms again.”

She smiled softly at him. “I was so frightened last night when Carlton wanted to burn our church down. I am still amazed we were able to open those doors. Even for us, that was a difficult maneuver.”

“It just goes to show how strong we are together,” he said.

“And we will be together now, soon. Truly together, as we were meant to be.” She touched his cheek. “Oh, Lucas, I've heard it's so beautiful there.”

“You're beautiful,” he whispered, and touched his lips to hers.

* * *

A cool breeze rustled the grass and spring-blooming bulbs the second Saturday in April. White puffy clouds scudded over the distant mountains, and the fresh scent of recent rain clung to the air.

A perfect day for a wedding.

Inside the church, garlands of baby's breath and pink roses draped the aisle, and huge bouquets of spring flowers covered the altar. The sound of Beethoven's Ninth filled the church from the new organ, one of many donations that had poured in since the review board had approved Makeshift Youth Center as a certified camp and counseling center.

The pews were crowded with anxious family and friends, among them Dean and Troy in their Sunday best. Their father sat beside them. Thanks to Dylan's persistence, three months in a twelve-step program for father and sons had brought them all close together again.

Myrna sat in the front row where Jessica had insisted she sit, though the woman had argued she didn't deserve the honor. With Carlton gone, Myrna was putting her time and money into working with needy children. Amazingly, when Makeshift Youth Center opened in two weeks, Myrna would be head administrator and chief benefactor.

When the organ boomed out the first thundering chords of Handel's “Wedding March,” everyone straightened, then stood as the bride slowly glided down the aisle.

Jessica held on tightly to her bouquet and moved forward on knees that felt like water. Jake walked beside her, his hand on her arm giving reassurance and encouragement. She glanced sideways at him and he winked at her. She smiled, then focused her attention on the man waiting by the altar.

He wore a tux well, she thought with pride. The juxtaposition of suave against rugged, debonair against masculine, was devastating. His heated gaze followed her as she moved closer.
Slow deep breaths,
she remembered Annie and Savannah advising her, and gripped the lace handkerchief that had been her great-great-grandmother's.

“You okay?” Jake whispered.

She nodded. “Okay” would hardly describe what she was. The love she felt for Dylan swelled inside her, and though she'd promised herself she wouldn't, she felt tears burn her eyes. A few feet more...a few minutes more...

He couldn't take his eyes off her. His throat had gone dry when she'd stepped into the church. She was a vision in antique white lace. His black bow tie and cummerbund felt tight. His palms were damp. Jared stood behind him, as did Savannah, Annie and Emma.

Family. He was going to be part of a family. He still couldn't believe it, no more than he could believe it possible to love one woman more than life itself.

Their eyes locked as she moved in front of him. He reached out to her, and as Jake stepped away, he took her hand in his and led her to the altar.

Together, hand in hand, they turned.

The minister smiled and opened his book.

The ceremony was brief, as both Dylan and Jessica had requested, and as they said their vows, a cool breeze swept gently through the church.

“I, Jessica, take Dylan Grant...”

“I, Meggie, take Lucas...”

“I, Dylan, take Jessica Stone...”

“I, Lucas, take Meggie...”

Dylan pulled Jessica into his arms and sealed their vows with a kiss and a whispered “I love you.” Smiling, Jessica repeated his words.

And as they turned to be congratulated as Mr. and Mrs. Dylan Grant, the fading outline of another bride and groom disappeared.

Eyes wide, Dylan looked at her, and she at him. They smiled slowly, and as Dylan circled her waist with one arm and hurried her down the aisle, she said a silent goodbye, knowing that her life, her heart and her legacy of Stone Creek would never die.

* * * * *