The Preacher’s Daughter

by Cheryl St. John

  “Lorabeth,” Zeta told her. “The requirement is that each young man will go from one lady to the next and say six flattering things about her. But tonight—” she paused for effect “—he cannot use the letter L.”

  The males groaned.

  “We’ll go around the room and, Carter, you’re first.”

  Lorabeth watched with interest as Carter complimented a fair-haired Ida Hunter with statements such as, “Your hair is shiny” and “You are very good at charades.” When he used the word helpful a chorus of voices tagged him with a forfeit.

  Carter reached Lorabeth, and she smiled expectantly. The etiquette books she’d read had advised her it was inappropriate for a lady of quality to encourage flattery from a young man, but flattery was the object of the game.

  “You—” Carter caught himself and started over. “Your…oh, my…your finger work—that’s it! Your finger work at the piano is very good.”

  Everyone laughed at his frustration to get his meaning across.

  “Thank you,” Lorabeth said.

  He grinned. “You are, um, you have good manners.”

  “Thank you,” she said again.

  “Your hair is a unique and an attractive—shade.”

  No one had ever said that to her before. “Why, thank you, Carter.”

  A few of the guests chuckled, and Lorabeth realized she didn’t need to thank him each time. She blushed.

  “Your eyes are incredibly—”

  “Forfeit!” the cries came.

  She was disappointed he’d used an L. She wondered what he’d meant to say about her eyes.

  And so the game went, with the young men tripping over their tongues. When it was Benjamin’s turn, he told Zeta her party was nice and that the sandwiches were good. He told Frances Adler she wore a becoming shade of rose. When he got to Lorabeth, she waited expectantly.

  “You make me…um…with you I, um, you make my face happy.”

  Lorabeth laughed at his avoidance of the word smile.

  “You’re kind and generous.”

  Her cheeks warmed. “Thank you.”

  “You catch on to new things fast.”

  “Like croquet?” she asked.

  He grinned. “You’re sweet and innocent and not at—not the—not jaded or affected.”

  “How many was that?” someone asked.

  “You have a good heart,” he added.

  “One more,” Zeta said.

  “You’re the prettiest woman I know.”

  One of the ladies beside Lorabeth sighed.

  Lorabeth blushed to the roots of her hair, and Benjamin took his seat beside her.

  Conversation swelled around them, and she looked over at him. “Truly?” she asked.

  “I don’t say things I don’t mean, even in a game.”

  “Thank you.”

  “What’s good for the goose is good for the gander,” Zeta called. “The ladies will compliment the gentlemen now.” Carrie Bennett began, making rounds and earning three forfeits. Frances was next, but she made it all the way around the gathering without a penalty.

  When it was Lorabeth’s turn, her heart fluttered. She didn’t relish making a fool of herself, but that seemed to be the sport of the evening and everyone took it with good nature.

  She approached Carter first, because she knew him from church.

  “You are prompt,” she told him.

  He nodded in amusement.

  “You are good to your mother.”

  A few guests “awed” at that comment.

  “Your—” She stopped herself before she said clothing or always. “Your attire is fresh and neat.”

  Pleased with her first attempts, she smiled and glanced at the accepting expressions of the others. For the rest of the young men she commented on their smiles and clothing, earning a forfeit when she told Hobie he made her laugh.

  She reached Benjamin and her mouth went dry. So many things came to mind when she looked at him, but none of them were appropriate for a game and most of them contained Ls. She smiled, and the corner of his mouth inched up in return.

  “That,” she said, pointing to his mouth, “thing you do is very handsome.”

  He raised his brows in wordless response.

  “You’re good with—the young ones.”

  He nodded.

  “You’re a good teacher.”

  But so much more than that.

  “And a good friend.”

  “Two more!” Zeta called.

  “You don’t judge. You’re smart—and kind-hearted.”

  The gathering clapped as she finished. Lorabeth gave Benjamin a last look before moving on to Damian and commenting on his neat appearance and shiny hair.

  By the time they played Grecian statue, everyone had enough forfeits to make the party finale interesting.

  Zeta placed a fish bowl in the center of the room on an oak pedestal.

  “Draw as many slips as you earned forfeits,” she instructed.

  They plucked folded slips of paper from the bowl, and Zeta explained they would go around and pay them one at a time. Hobie was first, and he had to recite a poem.

  He chose a silly one about a cat in a rowboat, and the game moved on. Carrie’s first forfeit was to give something she was wearing or holding to another person. She took a handkerchief from her pocket and gave it to Carter.

  Jenetta’s forfeit was to crawl on her knees like a kitty and rub against the legs of the person beside her.

  Beside her sat Damian, and he quite enjoyed Jenetta’s catlike performance.

  Benjamin unfolded a slip of paper.

  “Kiss a person of the opposite gender,” he read.

  Lorabeth widened her eyes at that request. She’d thought the kitty had been risqué!

  Benjamin seemed to consider his options for a moment, then got up and walked across the room to lean over Carrie Bennett and kiss her right on the lips!

  The crowd applauded, and Carrie blushed. Benjamin returned to his seat beside Lorabeth without meeting her eyes.

  Frances Adler caught the attention of the room with her next forfeit. “Five minutes in the coat closet with the person of your choice.”

  Laughter and surprised comments erupted.

  “Parker,” she said, crooking a finger. Lorabeth couldn’t remember hearing his last name.

  He was tall and dark-haired with a lock that fell over his forehead in a becoming manner.

  Zeta opened the coat closet and closed the door behind them.

  Lorabeth glance at Benjamin. He met her eyes and raised an eyebrow.

  “Watch the time,” Zeta instructed Ida.

  Lorabeth’s first forfeit was to recite a proverb backward, and she was relieved because proverbs were something she knew forward and backward. She thought it through first, then said, “Rubies above far…is price her for…woman virtuous…a…find…can…who?”

  Laughter rang out as the friends deciphered and approved of her rendition.

  “How does that go?” Ben asked while the others were occupied.

  “Who can find a virtuous woman? For her price is far above rubies.”

  “That Solomon knew his stuff, didn’t he?” Benjamin’s next forfeit was to give away a possession. He took a pocketknife from his trouser pocket and handed it to Lorabeth.

  The utensil was warm, the bone handle worn smooth from use. She held it self-consciously.

  Jenetta and Parker were released from the closet and took their seats amidst jeers and cheers. Jenetta smiled as though quite pleased with herself, and Parker wore a wide grin.

  Lorabeth stumbled reading her next forfeit. “K-kiss a beau on your left.”

  Frances was directly to Lorabeth’s left and next to Frances sat Parker.

  “Parker! Your lips are getting a workout this evening!” someone called and the others all laughed.

  Lorabeth looked at Benjamin. His expression didn’t give away what he was thinking, but he did say, “You don’t have to. It’s just a game.”


  “She has to draw two if she refuses this one,” Carrie reminded them.

  Lorabeth hadn’t expected anything like this. She wished she could kiss Benjamin and not this other fellow, but she wanted to play the games and do everything the others did. She stood on legs that trembled and moved around Frances’s knees to stand before Parker.

  He smiled up at her. He was handsome and friendly looking. Her stomach quivered nervously. She’d seen Ellie and Caleb share a kiss now and then, and she knew they enjoyed it.

  Taking a deep breath, Lorabeth leaned forward until she was face-to-face with Parker. His brown eyes held little gold flecks in the lamplight.

  She feared closing her eyes because she didn’t want to miss her target or fall headlong over him, so she kept them open and touched her lips to his.

  His lips were warm. Not unpleasant feeling at all. Not what she’d expected, either. But the contact was too intimate for this public display. Her cheeks burned.

  Spectators applauded.

  Lorabeth straightened, returned Parker’s smile and went back to her chair. This time she avoided Benjamin’s gaze.

  Ben would have left an hour ago if Lorabeth hadn’t assured him she was having a good time and wanted to be there. He wouldn’t have come at all if Ellie hadn’t insisted.

  The games had become a lot more risqué since the last time he’d joined this bunch.

  He sure as hell hadn’t been about to kiss Lorabeth in front of these people, and he hadn’t expected her to kiss a man. He should have known, though. She was open to experiencing all the things she’d missed, and the activities here were beyond her limited experience.

  He wished the forfeits were over so they could leave.

  Several more kisses and a few badly sung nursery rhymes and it was time to go.

  Benjamin thanked their hostess and led Lorabeth out the door. The fresh air felt good on his face. He took off his jacket and slung it over one shoulder.

  “Are you chilly?” he asked.

  She shook her head.

  They walked along the brick path, hearing guests leaving and buggies pulling out behind them.

  Benjamin reached for Lorabeth’s hand. She didn’t resist.

  “I feel like walking a little farther,” he said.

  He led the way to the park and guided her along the darkened paths. “Scared?” he asked.

  “No.”

  They reached the center of the park where stone benches shone pale in the moonlight. He released her hand.

  “Were you shocked?” he asked finally. “At the games?”

  She giggled. “I was pretty surprised.”

  “I don’t think Ellie knows exactly what goes on at those house parties.”

  “If my father knew, he’d be holding a prayer vigil on the street,” she said.

  “He’d be disappointed in me for takin’ you, I know that,” Ben added.

  Lorabeth sighed and tipped her head back to study the heavens. “He’s disappointed a lot.”

  “What did you think?”

  Her laughter was spontaneous and light. “It was fun.” She turned in a circle, then faced him, her features composed. “Why did you pick Carrie?”

  Silence yawned between them.

  “For the kiss,” she clarified unnecessarily.

  He thought about how to answer.

  “Didn’t you want to kiss me?”

  Chapter Eight

  Ben’s stomach dipped. “I didn’t want to kiss you like that. Not in front of everyone.”

  “Oh.” She wrapped her arms around herself. Seconds passed. “That was my first kiss.”

  Damn. He shook his head in self-disgust. “I should have kissed you. Even in front of everyone. I should have kissed you so I would have been the first.”

  “It wasn’t a real kiss, was it?” she asked.

  “What do you mean?”

  “It couldn’t have been as real as when two people care about each other and choose to kiss because they want to, not because it’s a silly forfeit, like a riddle in a game.”

  Lorabeth deserved a special kiss. A kiss as perfect as she was. “You’re right. I don’t think it was a real kiss.”

  “Good.”

  “Are you cold?”

  “A little.”

  He settled his jacket around her shoulders. The scent of her hair drew him like a bee to a sweet flower. He leaned over her and inhaled the scent of Lorabeth.

  “Don’t you want to kiss me?” she asked.

  “Oh, I want to.”

  She paused a moment before asking, “Then why…?”

  Ben dipped his head and brought her chin up on the knuckle of his forefinger to capture her mouth and hush her questions.

  Her mouth was a sweet discovery, her lips soft and pliant beneath his. He wrapped her close in his embrace and she fit against him perfectly, her curves pressed to the plains of his body. His chest swelled with expectancy and his thoughts of reason dimmed as pleasure took over his senses and feeling ruled out hesitation. He loved her honesty, admired her zeal for life…but most of all he appreciated her innocence and purity. She was a fresh clean breath of air in a stagnant world.

  She was light in the midst of darkness. She was unspoiled and naive, and he loved those things about her.

  His body reacted quite naturally, and he eased himself away from her so as not to spoil this moment.

  She raised a hand to his cheek, and the touch of her fingers made him feel clean. Young again.

  He caught her hand and pressed his lips against her skin, tasting her, absorbing her goodness.

  “That was a real kiss, wasn’t it?” she asked breathlessly.

  His eyes closed tight against the night, against the world. “Yes.”

  “I liked it,” she said in her usual childlike straightforward way.

  “I liked it, too,” he answered.

  “And I like being alone with you like this,” she admitted.

  He knew three or more cups of Zeta’s punch were making her giddy and he had a responsibility to her, to her father. “Lorabeth…”

  “What?”

  He shook his head almost imperceptibly. “It’s unsafe for you to be alone with just any man. You know that, don’t you?”

  “My father warned me enough times.”

  She couldn’t understand, and he didn’t want to shatter her illusions. “You wouldn’t be safe here like this with anyone besides me. I need you to understand that.”

  “All right. Will you kiss me again next time we’re alone?” she asked.

  He leaned away from her then, steadying her before he released her. “I’ll have trouble resisting.”

  She smiled in the moonlight. “I hope we’re alone a lot, then.”

  “You don’t know what you’re saying…or what you’re hoping.”

  “Maybe not. But I want to learn.”

  It was obvious she wanted to learn—about everything. And it was apparent he would be doing battle with himself at every turn. He took her hand. “Let’s get you home.”

  They were silent most of the way. When they reached Ellie’s, Ben walked Lorabeth to the front door and watched as she used the key Ellie had given her.

  “This is the first time I’ve used a key.”

  “Are you going to tell Ellie?” he asked her.

  “About what?”

  “About the parlor games.”

  She pushed open the door and turned to him. “Do you want me to?”

  He shrugged.

  “If she asks directly, I’ll tell her, of course.”

  Of course she would never lie.

  “But if the subject never comes up—and why would it?—then I won’t say anything. I never knew it would be so enjoyable to be around others that way, just to have fun for the sake of fun.”

  The pleasure on her face could have lit the night. How refreshing to see her delighted with such simple things. She was unique and special, and her eagerness scared him.

  She moved inside and s
tood back from the doorway. “Are you coming in?”

  He thought of mentioning next week’s social, but couldn’t make himself say the words. Like a coward, he shook his head.

  “Good night,” she called behind him.

  Titus had been tethered near the back gate. Ben loosed him, walked him out to the street and mounted.

  Looking back at the house, only one light was on, and it shone from the side of the house on the second floor.

  Ben urged the ranger to walk toward the fence that bordered the acreage and watched as a shadow fluttered behind the curtains of that upstairs room.

  His insides knotted at the thought of Lorabeth preparing for bed. Undressing…washing…brushing out her hair. He’d never seen a woman perform any of those nighttime rituals, but his imagination was filling in the blanks.

  It was a domestic scene he pictured, a scene where man and woman shared a home and a bed….

  What did he know about domestic? He’d grown up in a shack with no food and a mother who drank herself blind every day. What did he know about men and women other than whores and men with twisted desires and unholy unions…perverted desires? He’d witnessed sex in exchange for booze money. He knew about lack of responsibility. About lust. He knew how men cheated on their wives under cover of night. He dreamed crude distorted dreams that disturbed and aroused.

  Ben didn’t know the first thing about decent men and women except what he’d observed between Ellie and her husband. There were good men in the world, but all he understood for sure was weakness, and he’d made a stubborn vow never to show any. Without self-control he was nothing.

  By allowing this association with Lorabeth, he was placing himself in a position he’d shunned all his adult years. He had chosen not to be the kind of man he abhorred. He’d held himself apart. He’d never let himself weaken or lose control.

  And unleashing those desires was a weakness and a danger.

  The weight of the burden he carried had increased. That experience with Lorabeth scared Ben more than he cared to admit. He stayed away from his sister’s house that week. He didn’t want Ellie asking him to take Lorabeth to another home social.

  Saturday arrived and Ben spent the day in town. He used his time and energy refinishing the kitchen floor and replacing boards near the thresholds.

  As evening came and went, he prepared himself a simple meal of fried eggs and toasted bread with the strawberry jelly Ellie had given him.