Promises: Promises Prevail Part 6

"I can give you until I get back with your tea."

Indignation flashed across her expressive face to be quickly cloaked. "That's not much time."

"I'm not a patient man."

Nor a stupid one. He had the advantage and he had every intention of pressing it.

"Oh."

In the soft syllable, he heard the acceptance she had yet to reach. He touched the curl at her temple. The silken blonde strand caught on his calluses. He tipped his hand and let it slide off. She was his now. The knowledge slid into the emptiness within, stirring it, causing waves of...something to spread out. He fought back the feeling, burying everything except the satisfaction of possession.

That was one feeling he didn't mind experiencing.

And while he might not have love to give Jenna, he'd treat her better than any man she'd ever met. Better, certainly, than that drunken a.s.s she'd married. He'd respect her, please her, and do his best to make herhappy. And no b.a.s.t.a.r.d would ever put a mark on her again.

"I'm going to get your tea."

He let his hand drift down her cheek. The warmth of her skin was astonis.h.i.+ng. Her lashes fluttered against the back of his knuckles. He looked closer. She was holding herself unnaturally still. No doubt wondering what he was up to. No doubt expecting the worst. No doubt preparing to bolt.

"Don't even think about getting out of that bed before I get back." Her jump told him not only had she thought it, but in her mind was halfway down the stairs.

"I mean it Jenna. I'll paddle your b.u.t.t if I catch you out of bed."

One scared look and she settled down. She'd stay until he got back. He left to fetch her tea from the room across the hall. This room was as baren as the other, showing none of the feminine gewgaws he was accustomed to seeing in a woman's home. Bare of all the little knickknacks and feminine things that made a woman smile and marked a place as hers. A woman like Jenna should be surrounded by all the delicate pretty things that made her feel special and wanted. He'd have to see that she got them.

The cup was on the wood crate beside the bed. As he picked it up, he looked at the lined drawer Jenna used asa crib. He ran his hand over the blanket set into the drawer for cus.h.i.+oning. It was damp and smelled faintly of urine. He'd have to do something about that, too.

Brianna was bound to have more needs than he could think of right now. From the look of that hair and the strength of her lungs, it sounded like Brianna was going to be a demanding little thing. He pictured the chaos Jenna and Brianna were going to wreak on his quiet, orderly house, and smiled. He was, amazingly, looking forward to it.

Chapter Four.

Saying something apparently made it so. Jenna stood in the little alcove of the small church six days later and clutched her bouquet in her hands. In about three minutes, she would be wed to Clint McKinnely. She didn't know whether to breathe a sigh of relief or whether to collapse in terror. She was thinking about doing both. She could never, ever win a fight with Clint.

Not verbally, and certainly not physically. The man was a walking giant, and he had more muscles than the town blacksmith.

Her first husband had been muscular too, but slow to react and slow to move, giving her time if he turned ugly. Clint, however, moved with the grace and confidence of a predator. If she ran, he'd catch her. Her chest tightened with panic at the thought. She closed her eyes and breathed through her nose.

She had to have faith. Believe in the rightness of this.

Believe G.o.d hadn't deserted her or Bri. She'd told G.o.d she'd do anything at all if He'd just show her a way she could keep little Bri. And then Clint was there, offering marriage and security. If that wasn't an answer to aprayer she didn't know what was. As much as she didn't want to invoke Clint's wrath, she sincerely did not want to annoy the Almighty. So she'd just be a good wife, figure out what Clint needed, and give it to him. And all would be well.

There was a soft knock at the door.

Oh heavens! This was it. "Yes?"

Cougar's tiny wife peeked around the door, her brown eyes s.h.i.+mmering with excitement. It was easy to see why Cougar loved her. She just sparkled with life.

"Are you all set?"

As much as she'd ever be. "Yes."

She wished her voice sounded stronger, but she didn't want to walk down the aisle in front of the whole town. She didn't want to feel their pitying stares as she limped along, hear the whispers and speculation as to why Clint would marry someone like her. She'd tried to talk Clint into a quick, private ceremony but he'd just looked at her with those deep, black eyes and said that he was proud of his family and wasn't getting married in any way that said differently.

How could she argue with that? He wouldn't understand how horrible this was. How she hated being on display. A man like him had probably never had an uncertain moment in his life.

Mara stepped around the door and shut it behindher. Her smile faded. "Are you okay?"

Jenna tucked the bouquet tighter against her body to hide her trembling hands. "Just a little nervous."

"Nervous good or bad?" Mara asked as she came over, stepping around the long train of the gown, straightening the right side.

Jenna opened her mouth to answer and then closed it. She really didn't know what to say. She settled for, "I don't know."

Mara stepped behind her and then came around front again. "Heavens that man has an eye."

"Who has an eye?"

Mara glanced up. "Clint." She twitched a fold of the train into place. "You are absolutely beautiful."

Jenna touched the white satin skirt of her dress.

"Clint picked out my dress?"

No wonder he had refused to let her take it back when she'd said it was too fine.

"Not only did he pick it out, he had to ride eighteen hours straight to get the material here in time for Pearl and her girls to make it up since the freighters wouldn't be able to get it here until next week."

Jenna hid her hands in her bouquet. She hadn't known. "I told him white wasn't appropriate for a second marriage."Mara laughed. "Bet he didn't care."

Jenna shook her head. "No."

"You'll find these McKinnely men don't pay much heed to convention."

Jenna gripped the bouquet harder, the stems biting into her palms. "He said he'd never seen a woman more deserving to wear white."

Mara smiled. "That's another McKinnely trait. They see what they want."

She felt like such a fraud. "I'm not innocent."

Mara stopped fussing with the dress. "Jenna, I imagine Clint knows exactly who you are, and from the way he's fidgeting at the altar, he's anxious to have you as his."

His. In a month of Sundays, she'd never get used to being Clint McKinnely's. She just couldn't wrap her mind around that anymore than she could conceive of Clint fidgeting.

"I wasn't planning on getting married again," Jenna confessed.

Mara bent to straighten the other side of the train, her cinnamon eyes flas.h.i.+ng with wry amus.e.m.e.nt. "Well, you're one step ahead of me on my wedding day. I wasn't planning on getting married at all."

Jenna had heard rumors. "Is it true that Cougarcompromised you?" Jenna wished the words back into her mouth as soon as they left. "I'm sorry. That was rude."

That was why she never spoke up. She always said the wrong thing.

Mara laughed and shook her head as she straightened. "Pretty much. These McKinnely men can be very devious in getting their way."

"They are persistent."

"That, too." Mara stepped back and put her hands on her slender hips. "I think you're ready."

Jenna's knees started to knock and she took another breath. She was never going to be ready.

A sharp rap on the door saved her from having to say anything, which was good, because panic had her too short of breath for words. Another knock at the door and Mara was in motion. Jenna couldn't see who was behind the door or hear the conversation, but she didn't need schooling to know people were beginning to wonder where the bride was. Her stomach knotted, knowing the delay would give the townsfolk even more reason to whisper.

Mara turned back to her. "Ready?"

Jenna fought back a wave of nausea, took a slow breath, and nodded. Mara opened the door. Doc strode in, his hair, for once, smoothed flat, a smile on his kindface.

"Well now, it's easy to see why Clint calls you Suns.h.i.+ne. You look like a bit of heavenly light in that dress."

She'd been unsure about the style, but Mara and Elizabeth had been adamant about the cut of the bodice, which showed the tops of her b.r.e.a.s.t.s. They had ignored her protests until she'd had no choice but to go along.

Now that the dress was fitted, she had to admit that it did make the most of her few a.s.sets, but just thinking about all those male guests seeing her in it caused another surge of nausea.

Doc grabbed her elbow as she swayed. "Are you all right?"

She shook off her weakness and put some starch in her spine. "I'm fine."

"You look a far cry from fine."

"It's all this waiting," she explained, holding out her hand. "It makes me nervous."

The sooner this was over, the better she'd feel. She hoped.

Doc tucked her hand into the crook of his arm and patted it. "Then let's get the waiting over with, 'cause truth be told, if you don't come down that aisle soon, Clint will be coming up it to fetch you."The door creaked as Mara slipped through.

"He's that mad?" Jenna asked.

Doc sent her a look that went from confused to understanding in one blink. "He's that anxious."

She doubted that.

Organ music swelled on a long building note. It was time. She took a breath and pasted a smile on her face.

The shakes started as they always did when she was forced to be the center of attention. She knew Doc could feel her trembling by the sharp glance he cut her. She stared straight ahead as the organ started playing her wedding hymn. She would not shame Clint by acting the weakling on their wedding day.

Doc started forward. The three steps to the door pa.s.sed much too quickly. She had a chance for another breath as Doc pulled the door open. She took it and held it. She could do this. Just one step at a time. That's all she needed to do. Put one foot in front of the other, follow Doc's lead, and in no time this would be over with. She made it as far as the top of the aisle before disaster struck. Someone had laid down a beautiful, white s.h.i.+mmery cloth on the aisle. Her slipper on her good leg slid. The unexpected weight on her bad leg sent a knifing pain through her thigh. She pulled up short, jerking Doc back, almost falling, holding back her groan through sheer force of will. There was a murmur in the crowd a.s.she stood there unmoving. It took all her concentration to control the pain. When it faded, she was faced with a church full of curious attendees.

"Think she's planning on leaving McKinnely at the altar?" she heard a man mumble.

"Might just be worth getting all decked out to see that," another whispered back.

She glanced up. Ahead of her, there was nothing but a ma.s.s of people staring at her, judging her. Expecting the worst of her. At the end of the aisle stood Clint. His broad shoulders squared and straight. His expression impa.s.sive. She didn't know what he thought, but as she stood there, the whispers around her piling up into rampant speculation, she could imagine. Inside, the tiny kernel of courage she'd been drawing from withered.

Cougar stood beside Clint, his impatience clear on his face. As her gaze touched his golden one, he shook his head. His long black hair swung in punctuation to the jerk of his chin-a clear order to get moving. An order he expected to be obeyed.

But she couldn't. G.o.d help her, she couldn't. She couldn't even release the breath she'd been holding as everything in her rushed toward panic.

Doc patted her hand. "Jenna?"

She shook her head, feeling the tightness pulling at her arms, closing off her breath. Oh G.o.d, not now. Pleasenot now. She couldn't do this to Clint. To herself. She couldn't mess up her one shot at keeping Brianna.

The murmuring became a soft roar. Beside her, Doc was encouraging her to sit down, but she couldn't do that either. She couldn't sit and be married. She had to make it down the aisle. To Clint.

There was a louder murmur and then a sudden deafening, expectant silence. She looked up. Clint was coming toward her, his long hair flaring around his shoulders, his long legs eating up the distance between them. He didn't look angry. He didn't look anything. He just kept coming toward her. When he was close enough that she could see the slight lines fanning out from the corner of his eyes, she closed hers, accepting the reality- it was over.

His "Ah, Suns.h.i.+ne" reached her first and then his arms wrapped around her, pulling her into the solid strength of his chest, taking her weight off her legs and making it his responsibility.

"A little too much too soon?" he queried against her ear.

She nodded and gulped in a painful effort to respond. She hadn't wanted to fail him.

"Shh." His lips brushed her ear, laid bare by her upswept hair. "I want you just to relax, Jenna."

She tried to twist away. His lips brushed her temple.His left hand opened on the small of her back. "No one can see, Suns.h.i.+ne, so I want you to rest here against me and find your breath."

Easy for him to say. Her ribs heaved, but nothing happened.

"Jenna, baby." A down comforter wasn't as soft as his deep voice at that moment. "I should be shot."

For what? she wondered with the one calm section of her brain. His fingers brushed her jaw "I should have known being on display would upset you."

He s.h.i.+fted, pulling her closer with his hand on her spine so that her skirts wrapped around his boots. His lips brushed her cheek. "Breathe, baby. For me. Just once."

She stiffened remembering the last time he'd said that. He pulled her a little closer, seeming to absorb her whole body into his as his laughter puffed against her ear.

"Ah, you remember that, do you?'

How could she forget?

"I promise you this time, baby, no pain. You just take this one tiny breath, and the rest will be a cakewalk."

Air wheezed in and choked out of her lungs while hejust stood there as if the whole church full of witnesses didn't matter and crooned nonsense into her ear. She tried to look under his arm to see what kind of spectacle they were making, but he wouldn't allow it.

He tucked her head against his chest and said, "The only people who matter here are you and me, and I'm just fine with this."

"She okay?"