The Matrimony Plan (8 page)

Then a man’s voice said, “Last of’em.”

That came from the river, if he was any judge of direction.

A grunted reply told him two or more men were there. Then he heard steps coming toward him.

He backed up, and a twig snapped.

Slinky barked.

The voices stopped, and a gun cocked. Footsteps shuffled closer and then ran.

Slinky trembled at his feet, the low growl beginning again. Don’t bark. Gabriel reached to stroke Slinky’s head, but then he realized that was just the thing he needed to distract the bootleggers. He let go of Slinky’s rope and prayed God would protect them both.

The dog ran upriver along the path, barking. Gabriel heard the men crash after him and followed. With any luck, Slinky would flush the bootleggers out into the open of the park or even to Main Street, where they could be stopped and held until their boat was found. The sheriff couldn’t dismiss evidence like that. Gabriel would put a stop to this bootlegging business tonight.

He plunged through the woods, heedless of noise. They were getting close to the park. Soon he’d have his quarry. Then his foot hit something solid and he tripped, falling right into a patch of bushes.

Raspberry bushes.

Felicity grew more excited with every step. Soon Robert would kiss her. Soon he’d be hers.

The grass was soft underfoot, already damp with dew. He began to whistle last year’s popular song, “I’ll Say She Does.”

The tune grated on her nerves. “Could you please stop?”

He halted, staring into the blackness of the park, as if he’d seen something.

“I meant the whistling.”

“You don’t care for whistling?”

She pressed her temple. “I’m getting a headache.”

“No problem, chickadee.” However, he started up again when they resumed walking.

It’s all right, she told herself. She could correct that flaw later. Tonight she would secure his affection, and then soon afterward she would be Mrs. Robert Blevins of Newport with an engagement ring so large even Mother would gasp. She’d walk down the aisle of a large cathedral. Nothing in Pearlman would do. They’d wed in New York City. Her gown would be encrusted with pearls, the train a mile long. Every girl at Highbury and in Pearlman would weep with envy.

They reached the pavilion, and Robert stepped aside to let her ascend first. Heart pounding at what was to come, she climbed one then two then three steps. Then she heard voices and scampered back down. “Someone’s already here.”

Robert took her hand. “Then follow me.” He pointed toward the inky black forest.

She ignored the quiet voice that told her not to go and followed. Robert would never hurt her.

“Let’s walk by the river,” she suggested.

“My thoughts exactly.” This time he didn’t whistle.

“Amazing how we think alike,” she laughed, trying to settle her nerves.

“Indeed.” But his words didn’t calm her like Gabriel’s did.

The moonless night had extinguished the warm light from people’s windows. She couldn’t even see where she was walking. She’d never find her way back to Elm Street. Each step twisted her stomach one turn tighter.

“Here we are.” Robert guided her a few steps to the left, and she soon felt the gravel of the path underfoot.

A few more steps forward, and the black of the forest swallowed them.

He stopped. “Ah, my little chickadee.” He lifted her hand to his lips and twirled her about so she came to rest in his
arms. “You are a lady after my heart.” His rough finger scratched along her jaw, not at all the pleasurable sensation she’d experienced with Gabriel.

This was wrong. Panic struggled to surface, but she reasoned that Robert wouldn’t dare hurt her. She was a Kensington. He worked for Daddy. She was just being foolish.

“You’re so tense,” he murmured, far too close to her ear.

His heat overwhelmed her, like standing alongside a blazing fire, but she fought the urge to break away. “We can’t be long. Daddy’s waiting for me.” It wouldn’t hurt to reinforce that point.

“Forget your father.” He tipped her chin up. “Tonight there’s only us.”

“Yes, us.” She tried to ignore the growing knot in her stomach. They shouldn’t be alone together. They shouldn’t be in the park alone, and they absolutely shouldn’t be there in the dark.

He bent close. He was going to kiss her.

“I didn’t know how we’d ever get together,” she blurted.

“Lovers always find opportunity.” His voice had gotten husky and syrupy at the same time, and his lips brushed her ear.

“Lovers?” she gasped. “Is that what we are?” Her heart was battering its way through her rib cage.

“Hush, my little chickadee.”

He pinned her so close that his waistcoat buttons bit into her abdomen. His breath reeked of ashes. His mustache scratched her face. Every instinct told her to flee.

“Felicity.” His voice seduced. “How beautiful you are.” He cupped the back of her head and drew her face toward his.

She felt a tremor, small at first but escalating rapidly as he bent toward her. Was this love, this terrible nerve-racking fear? Before she could say a word, he pressed his lips to
hers. The scratch of his mustache was quickly replaced by the tawdry taste of tobacco.

She shoved at his chest. “L-let go.”

“What’s wrong, darling?” He relaxed slightly but didn’t let her go. “We’ve just begun.”

No, no, no.
Every part of her revolted. “I—I can’t breathe.”

“That’s normal.” He crushed his lips to hers again.

Panic welled. This was wrong, and she no longer cared if she ruined everything. She couldn’t talk with his lips smothering hers. She was too weak to break free. She was too far from help. No one knew she was here. No one would hear her scream. Dear God, what had she done?

“Felicity,” he murmured, breaking the kiss.

A cry burbled in her throat but refused to come out. What if he took advantage of her? What if he…?

No.
She opened her mouth, but nothing came out.

He kissed her neck. She twisted aside. His lips followed, so she dug her fingernails into his fleshy wrist.

“Hey.” He jerked away, shaking his hand. “What was that for?”

She staggered backward, free at last, but where could she go? Blackness surrounded her in every direction. She’d get lost and maybe twist an ankle, but that was better than another minute in Robert’s clutches. She stumbled to her right and quickly got entangled in the brush.

Woof.
At that moment, a dog leaped onto her.

“Help, stop,” she cried, even though it would bring Robert.

Rather than back off, the animal ran around her barking. Though she couldn’t see more than a shape in the darkness, she recognized that bark. Slinky. She grabbed his rope collar and hugged him close. She didn’t care why or how he’d gotten here, only that he had.

Seconds later, the glow of a lantern bounced through the trees. Gabriel. It had to be. He’d come for her.

The light swept the woods, revealing everything. Robert stood not five feet from her, smirking. She looked a sight.

“It’s not what you think,” she cried.

“Then what is it?” The lantern lowered to reveal the holder’s face.

She gasped, “Daddy.”

“Y
oung lady, you have some mighty big explaining to do.”

Felicity searched for words to answer her father. How much had he seen? The kiss? The way Robert held her? Thank heavens it was dark. Her father couldn’t have seen everything, but clearly he’d seen enough.

His spectacles reflected the lantern light. “I’m waiting.”

“I—I,” she stammered, mind blank.

She looked to Robert for help, but he avoided her gaze. Shouldn’t he stand up for her? A real gentleman would explain everything. A lover would take the blame. Robert stood silent.

“Felicity.” A disheveled Gabriel burst into the clearing. “Thank goodness you caught up to Slinky.”

Daddy’s brow furrowed as he glanced from Gabriel to Felicity and back again. “Are you saying you two were together?”

Felicity held her breath. What would Gabriel say? A minister couldn’t lie, nor could he respect her if she lied for him.

His gaze met hers, and she knew he would do it. She couldn’t let him.

“I was walking home.” That much
was
true. She scratched Slinky’s neck, praying Daddy didn’t ask more questions.

Robert finally found his voice. “Everyone’s safe now. Guess it’s time to head back.” He made a show of checking his pocket watch in the lantern light.

Robert’s nonchalance left Felicity speechless. How could he stand before Daddy pretending nothing had happened?

“Indeed it is,” Daddy growled, holding out his hand to her. “Come along, Felicity.”

She stared, dumbfounded. Daddy had found her alone in the dark with Robert, yet he didn’t ask one single question of the man.

Gabriel stepped into the light. “I assure you, sir, that I have only the deepest respect for Felicity and would never harm her reputation.” He glared at Robert.

Gabriel knew what had happened. He knew she’d stumbled badly. Yet he spoke up for her when Robert stood silent. She blinked back tears. No one had ever done that for her before.

“Of course, you wouldn’t.” Daddy clapped Gabriel on the back. “You’re a man of God. All I ask is that you let me know the next time you want to walk with my daughter.”

Gabriel fidgeted, eyes downcast. “Yes, sir.”

How that must have cost him. Felicity wished she could tell him how much his sacrifice meant to her, but that would expose the truth.

He lifted his eyes, and she could see the hope flickering inside. “I’ll walk you home.”

Daddy cut that idea short. “There’s been quite enough walking around in the dark for one night. I will escort my daughter home, Pastor. Good night, Mr. Blevins.”

Both men nodded their understanding and then went their separate ways, leaving her alone with Daddy. With the lantern to guide them, he led her through the park. She waited for the lecture, but he said nothing until they passed the pavilion.

“Be certain what you want, little one.” The words dripped with disappointment, and her heart lurched. How could she have been so foolish?

“I’m sorry, Daddy.”

He patted her hand, but it didn’t make her feel any better.

At the end of day two, her plan lay in ruins.

Two days and much soul-searching later, Felicity stood on the parsonage’s front porch with a package wrapped in brown paper. The wide-brimmed hat hid her swollen eyes but did nothing to bolster her courage.

She lifted a fisted hand to knock, then let it drop for the twentieth time. A hasty glance backward showed she was still alone, but someone she knew could go down Elm Street at any moment. If she was going to do this, she had to do it now.

She rapped on the oak door. The hard wood stung the knuckles. She pressed an ear close, listening for movement inside but heard nothing. He probably wasn’t home. She should leave.

Then she heard a bark.

“Hush,” said Gabriel.

Oh dear, he was there. She dipped the brim of her hat to hide her eyes. What should she say?

The door opened.

“Good morn…” The rest of his greeting evaporated, and her heart sank.

He hated her.

She sneaked a peek. He looked the same as always, with that intoxicating smell of fresh-pressed cotton, his sleeves rolled up. She couldn’t read his expression. He neither looked pleased nor frowned.

She offered a hesitant smile. “You’re here.”

“I am.” He cleared the roughness from his throat.

She stared at her feet. How could she look at him when he knew what had happened? The embarrassment was killing her, but she had to make amends. She needed to thank him for stepping forward on her behalf.

She thrust out the package. “For you.”

He didn’t budge. “I can’t accept a gift.”

She dropped her hands, deflated. How could she persuade him? “Ministers accept gifts of thanksgiving all the time.” She held it out again.

Again he shook his head. “It’s not necessary.”

Tears of frustration threatened. “I know it’s not necessary. It’s a gift.”

“Felicity,” he sighed, “you must see that accepting a gift from an unmarried woman in my congregation would not be proper.”

She averted her gaze at the gaffe. Still, if she couldn’t make amends, he would never speak to her again, at least not as a friend. “It’s a thank-you. That’s all.”

“Then I accept your thanks as more than adequate. A gift is not needed.”

How could she get him to accept the gift, her unspoken apology? Slinky nuzzled against her leg, begging to be petted. That was it.

She held out the gift again. “It’s not for you. It’s for Slinky.”

“For Slinky?” His eyebrows rose.

“I thought perhaps you’d like a proper collar and leash—that is, that Slinky would like them. H-he saved me, in a manner of speaking.”

Still, he didn’t take the package.

“Please?” she pleaded. “He is my responsibility. You said so yourself. It’s the least I can do.”

At last Gabriel took the package. “I guess it’s all right if it’s for Slinky.” The paper crackled under his fingertips.

“Go ahead. Open it. I had Mr. Jones at the harness shop make it.”

Gabriel tugged open the string and unfolded the paper to reveal the beautifully crafted leather collar and leash, embossed SLINKY in block letters.

His lips slowly curved upward. “I guess I can’t change his name now.”

She laughed, though it came out bubbly and half-teary. “I’m sorry. I forgot you wanted to change his name. I’ll have Mr. Jones make a new one.”

“No, no, this is perfect.” He turned it over in his hands, but he was no longer looking at the collar. “You’re so thoughtful.” His gaze softened.

She sucked in her breath, startled by the depth of feeling. That crazy hot and cold tingling started again, and she reached for the porch rail to steady herself. She had to leave—now—before she lost all control.

“That’s all I wanted,” she said, edging down the steps. “I should be going.”

“But don’t you want to see the collar on Slinky?”

“No, no.” She couldn’t stay another moment. What had she been thinking? Gabriel Meeks was her minister. He’d witnessed her disaster in the park. Deep down, he must condemn her. Oh why had she thought a gift would right things between them? She should never have come.

“I—I’m sorry.” She backed down the last step. “I have to go.”

She flew down the walkway and almost crashed into Mrs. Grattan, who gave her a stern look. Felicity murmured an apology without breaking stride. She had to get away. She had to get home.

For the first time that she could recall, Felicity anticipated Sunday worship with a flutter of nerves. It would be Gabriel’s
first sermon. She prayed it would soar, that he’d stand proudly before the congregation, inspiring them with profound stories and fiery rhetoric like the popular evangelist Billy Sunday. Even though she couldn’t contemplate falling in love with him, she could cheer his success.

While Mother politicked for her stained glass window, Felicity settled into the family pew and waited for the service to begin. Before long, she heard whispers behind her that could only belong to Sally Neidecker, Eloise Grattan and Anna Simmons.

“Did you hear the news?” Sally whispered none too quietly. “It’s all over town.”

Felicity stared ahead, back straight. That night in the park had been bad enough, but Sally Neidecker crowing over it was intolerable. Still,
a lady always maintains her composure
. Felicity would show them she possessed poise under duress.

“What news?” asked Eloise.

As if she didn’t know.

“I don’t think we should talk in church,” Anna said, and the conversation ceased.

Dear gawky Anna, forever trying to be one of the popular girls but never succeeding. Perhaps Felicity had misjudged her.

The quiet lasted less than a minute.

“It
will
be interesting to see them together,” Sally giggled. “I can’t wait.”

Felicity felt the old heat rush to her cheeks. How she wanted to slap that Sally Neidecker.

“Me, too,” gushed Eloise. “I wonder what he’ll look like in robes.”

Robes? Robert didn’t wear robes. Her eyes widened. They were talking about Gabriel. But then with whom did they
want to see him? Was he courting someone? Is that why he’d been so cold to her?

“Please, be quiet,” Anna whispered.

Eloise prattled on unhindered. “I hope you-know-who will pick my basket at the picnic next Saturday. I’m putting a blue ribbon on the handle. I practically told him which one would be mine and that I’m making my strawberry pie. Everyone knows I make the best strawberry pie.”

A week ago Felicity would have fretted about Eloise pursuing Robert, but what if her real quarry was Gabriel? He was the better catch.

Her heart caught as she realized what she’d just thought. Gabriel was the better catch. Mother would die if she knew Felicity was even thinking such a thing. Of course it was impossible, but Gabriel marry Eloise? That was worse yet.

“Who do you hope picks your basket?” Eloise asked.

After a brief pause, Anna said quietly, “I don’t care.”

“Yes, you do. You’re in love with someone,” Sally pestered. “Tell me. I promise not to tell a soul.” Her voice lowered, purring confidence, but Anna Simmons refused to divulge a thing.

Thankfully Mother and Daddy arrived to put an end to the chatter. The congregation hushed as Gabriel entered and the opening hymn began. Felicity followed along, singing the words by rote. She couldn’t take her eyes off Gabriel and how distinguished he looked in the black robes. He’d combed his hair and looked quite solemn and proper—very much the minister.

He handled the service beautifully, speaking clearly and with authority. The congregation listened, if not with enthusiasm then at least with respect. They liked him. They accepted him. She didn’t know why she should care so much, but she hung on his every word and movement, smiling encouragement.

Strangely, he chose temperance as his sermon topic. Considering Prohibition was in force across the nation and had been the law in Michigan since 1917, it didn’t carry the force another sermon might have. Mother stifled a yawn behind her gloved hand, and Daddy’s head bobbed more than once. Felicity shot a quick look at the congregation. He had lost them.

“And most of all,” he finished, looking directly at her. “Love each other.”

Felicity sat stunned. Love. He’d spoken the word while looking at her. Was it possible that Gabriel meant her? Was the way she felt around him love?

Everyone stood for the closing hymn. Though Felicity sang, the words of the hymn didn’t register. She could only think about what had just happened. Gabriel had declared love before the congregation. She hazarded a glance at Mother, who mouthed the words to the hymn. She hadn’t noticed. Maybe no one else had either. That statement had been for her alone. Her spirits soared with the last stanzas of the hymn.

Then she heard the whispers.

“Did you see him look at me?” Eloise crowed. “He was talking about love and looked right at me.”

No, he wasn’t.

Felicity turned to refute Eloise and discovered the girl was indeed seated behind her. From the pulpit, they sat directly in line. What if Gabriel was looking at Eloise, not Felicity? Embarrassed, she turned back around.

The words of the benediction floated past unheard. Gabriel couldn’t love Eloise—impossible. No, that look had been for her, Felicity Kensington. But he didn’t glance her way again, not even when exiting down the center aisle.

The congregation filed out, and Felicity followed mindlessly. Progress proved slow since everyone was greeting
Gabriel. Felicity watched him—how perfectly at ease he was, welcoming every member of the church as if they were part of his family.

As Mrs. Grattan stepped forward to greet him, Felicity gasped. There, leaning against the wall, stood Robert Blevins. She’d forgotten she asked him to come to church this Sunday.

He nodded at her, the tips of his mustache bobbing.

She looked away. Clearly he expected her to join him, but if she did, any and all rumors would be confirmed. She balled her fists, praying Mother wouldn’t spot him.

Mrs. Grattan finished greeting Gabriel, and Felicity stepped forward.

“Good morning, Pastor.” The title sounded strange. “Very nice sermon.” For some reason, she couldn’t think of anything intelligent to say.

“Thank you. I was nervous.”

“I wouldn’t have known. You looked so secure.”

He smiled politely. “I wasn’t.”

Their exchange dwindled. The most important things couldn’t be said in front of her parents or anyone else. What’s more, Robert was walking toward them. Mother nudged her with an elbow. Felicity fixed her attention on Gabriel.

“I particularly liked the part about loving each other.” Just mentioning the word
love
made her cheeks burn.

“Thank you,” Gabriel said softly. “And thank you for the collar. It fits perfectly.”

“What collar?” Mother demanded, simultaneously pinching Felicity’s arm to warn that she was not to proceed further.

“Reverend.” Robert pushed past Felicity. “Good to see you again. Interesting sermon, but a bit too political for my taste.”

Gabriel dutifully shook Robert’s hand. “I think that’s a compliment.”