by Peggy Webb
It was all very high church. Not at all the church of her upbringing, which was a great relief to Skylar. If Daniel’s church had been one of those Bible-thumping, hell-fire-and-damnation kinds, she would never be able to come. Never.
And she wanted to. For Daniel’s sake. She knew she would never be a model preacher’s wife. She’d never be the kind who served side by side with her husband. But she could show her love and support of him by her attendance. She could and she would stand by his side as the parishioners filed out the church door.
Even if it killed her. And it just might. The way that old biddy across the aisle kept cutting her eyes back to Skylar told her everything she needed to know. Jim had already been talking.
Before the day was over, Skylar would be willing to bet that every member of Daniel’s congregation would know that he’d married the star of Too Hot to Handle.
Skylar picked at her lunch and Daniel knew she was thinking about what Jim had said. Should he bring it up or let it lie? If he brought it up she would think the boy’s rude remark carried a lot of weight with him, and he certainly didn’t want that. On the other hand, if he didn’t bring it out in the open it could fester and erupt at some later date.
“Skylar…”
She stood up so fast her chair toppled, then she launched herself into his lap. “Hold me, Daniel. Just hold me.”
He picked her up and carried her upstairs to their bedroom. The sun was shining through the bank of west windows and he laid her tenderly on the bed in a circle of sunlight.
She pulled him down to her, fierce and hungry. They jerked at their clothing, tossing it in an untidy heap beside the bed, and came together with a passion that rocked Daniel to the depths of his very soul. He whispered her name against the soft fragrant skin of her neck and told her he loved her more than life itself, which probably would be considered a sacrilege to the likes of Lincoln Hodges who was chairman of the pastor/parish relations committee, but which made perfect sense to Daniel.
Somewhere he’d read that sex was the ultimate spiritual experience, and with Skylar that was so. Surrounded by her sweet hot flesh he knew the essence of the Universal Mind. Love. All is love.
He was in the midst of the most mind-shattering climax he’d ever had when the doorbell rang.
“Daniel?”
“Ignore it,” he said through gritted teeth, then collapsed on her in a quivering heap. She stroked his back while the doorbell rang and rang.
“Darling, I don’t think the caller is going away,” she whispered.
“I believe you’re right.” He jumped into his clothes then ran his hand through his hair. “Do I look like a man who has been rudely interrupted while making love?”
“Yes.”
“Good.”
He leaned down and kissed his wife. Thoroughly. “Don’t you move. I’ll be right back.”
He wasn’t, though. Skylar scowled at the clock as if she could make it take back what it was saying. Daniel had been gone over an hour, and all her instincts told her that it was not good. His caller was probably an irate parishioner who wanted him to get a divorce immediately before they all decided to run him out of town on a rail for marrying her.
Not that she had ever considered her video anything except art. A bit on the wild side, but still within the bounds of decency. She remembered when she’d shot the video. Hal, the producer, had wanted her to ditch the shorts in favor of a G-string. She’d told him in no uncertain terms that she was a singer, not a stripper.
She and the band were supposed to do another video with Hal next spring, but she’d had reservations even as they’d discussed it last fall. And she certainly did now.
What was taking Daniel so long?
Skylar got out of bed, put on her robe and went into the kitchen to get a bite to eat. All of a sudden she was starving.
Daniel’s visitor was none other than Lincoln Hodges, who sat with his hat on his knee as if he’d just come in for a quick hello instead of a lynching.
Daniel had expected this, but not so soon. He was less than prepared. In fact, he was vulnerable. Mellow from his rousing session in Skylar’s arms.
“I don’t know why nobody knew about this woman until today,” Lincoln was saying.
“Her name is Skylar, and she’s my wife.”
“I meant no disrespect to you.”
“None taken.” Daniel couldn’t help but notice the emphasis Lincoln put on the last word. Obviously he meant enormous disrespect toward Skylar.
“Still, you took us all by surprise and we never expected anything like…that.”
“She is quite remarkable, isn’t she? I fell in love with her the moment I saw her, and being a red-blooded male I didn’t stop to ask anybody’s permission.”
Daniel hoped Lincoln would take the point without taking offense. He figured the best way to handle this situation was with a light hand. And from the looks of things it was already a situation.
“How come we didn’t meet her at the funeral?”
“My job was to comfort the bereaved family. I didn’t think it an appropriate time to introduce my wife.”
“If we’d had even a little advance warning we could have been better prepared.”
“Warning?”
Lincoln fiddled with his hat and got red in the face. “You know what I mean.”
“I guess I don’t, Lincoln. I’m married to a perfectly lovely woman, and I expect you to extend her the same warm welcome you’d extend to any new member of this congregation.”
“You married a porn star!”
Daniel was enraged and heartsick at the same time. This was worse than he expected. Far worse. He was glad the parsonage had been built with thick walls so that Skylar wouldn’t hear.
It took every ounce of his willpower not to leap over the desk and throttle the man. Instead he gripped the arms of his chair so hard his knuckles turned white.
“Careful, Lincoln. That’s my wife you’re maligning.”
“It’s not me saying those things, Daniel. You know I support you a hundred percent.”
“I’m glad to hear that. My wife will appreciate it as well.”
“I’m just telling you things you ought to know. Everybody’s talking.”
“Gossip is a dangerous, hurtful thing. I trust you’ll do everything in your power to squelch it.”
“Lord God, preacher. How do you stop an avalanche? The ones who haven’t seen that video have gone out to buy it.”
Daniel made one last attempt at levity. “This will put her on the charts. Skylar will be pleased.”
“You’re not taking this seriously, Daniel.”
“No, I’m taking it very seriously, Lincoln. But I’m also trusting that my congregation will have enough grace and charity to forgo judgment in favor of getting to know one of the most warm and loving women ever to come into their midst.”
“Is that all you’ve got to say?”
“No. I’m trusting you to take a leadership role in making certain that my wife is welcomed into this church, Lincoln. Warmly welcomed. Furthermore, I expect no breath of this sorry gossip will be repeated in her presence.”
“I’ll do the best I can. It would help if you could tell me that she’s made a complete change.”
“What do you mean?”
“She’s giving up her career, isn’t she?”
“No. I didn’t ask her to and I don’t expect her to.”
“Then I expect you’d better batten the hatches, Daniel, because you and that new wife of yours are in for a hell of a storm.”
After Lincoln had left, Daniel sat at his desk a long time trying to marshal his thoughts and regain his composure. He didn’t mind a storm on his account. Every minister had to weather one from time to time. It was Skylar he worried about. Skylar he wanted to protect.
He found her in the kitchen eating an enormous peanut butter and jelly sandwich.
“Hi.” Her smile didn’t quite touch her eyes. “Want one, too?”
“That sounds good.”
She waited until her back was turned to ask, “What was that all about?”
He wished he could say, “Nothing,” then take her back to bed and make love until his conversation with Lincoln was wiped from his mind. But the one thing he’d always admired about his parents’ marriage was their honesty with each other. When he’d turned eighteen his father had taken him aside and said, “Son, some day you’ll take a wife, and when you do there are two things I want you to remember: Tell her you love her every day, and always tell her the truth. Lies can ruin a marriage.”
Daniel slipped his arms around his wife from behind and said, “I love you, Skylar.”
She turned around with the peanut-butter knife in one hand and a piece of bread in the other. “I know you do, Daniel, but you didn’t answer my question.”
“The answer is that the whole congregation has gone out to buy a copy of your video.” She groaned and he kissed her long and hard. “Nothing’s going to happen that we can’t get through together. Do you hear me, Sky?”
“Yes. I hear you.”
“Good.” He kissed her again, then swept her into his arms. “I’m starving.”
“You’ll have to put me down. I can’t reach the peanut-butter jar.”
“Not for peanut butter.” He carried her up the stairs and drew the curtains against the lengthening shadows, then spread his wife on the bed and made love to her until she fell asleep in his arms, sated and smiling.
Daniel pulled her so close he could feel her heart beating against his. “Hold on tight, Skylar,” he whispered. “Hold on and don’t let go. Don’t ever let go.”
Chapter Thirty-One
Monday came as a great relief to Skylar, and it struck her all of a sudden that this was how she’d felt growing up under the censure of her father and his congregation. She was standing in the middle of the parsonage’s flower garden deadheading rose bushes and planning how she would get some good rose food to perk them up. Swamped by déjà vu she went as still as a doe caught in headlights, then dropped her basket and ran as fast as she could to find Daniel.
He was in the basement lifting weights, his body covered in a fine sheen of sweat, his T-shirt clinging to him in big damp patches. She ran straight to him. He dropped the weights and pulled her into his arms.
“Sky? What’s wrong?”
“I have to talk to you.”
“This sounds serious.”
“It is. It’s something I thought of in the garden and I can’t wait another minute to clear it up.”
“This sounds like a teacup conversation.”
“What’s that?”
He caught her hand and lead her upstairs, explaining all the while how his Grandmother Beaufort always told them that serious matters were best discussed over a good cup of English tea always served with honey, never sugar, and a generous dollop of real cream, not milk and never the artificial cream which she considered one of the scourges of modern society.
“Your grandmother must be a wise woman because I feel better already just talking about it.”
“Sit.” Daniel pulled out a chair for her, then said, “Start talking anytime you like,” while he made the tea.
Skylar folded her hands in her lap and tried to compose herself. This would be one of the most important conversations she would ever have with her husband, and she wanted to get it right.
“Daniel, have I ever told you how much I enjoy what I do for a living?”
“No, but you didn’t have to. It’s obvious. No one could sing with such passion if they didn’t love music and performing.”
“In a way I suppose it’s a calling as much as your ministry. Music is the universal language, and I can feel how my singing touches people. I can move them to tears or laughter, and I don’t want to give that up.”
“I didn’t ask you to.”
“I know, but I have a feeling your congregation will expect it of me.”
Daniel set two cups of tea on the table, then reached for her hands. “No one has a right to tell you what to do. This is not even an issue, Skylar.”
“It’s easy to say that now, but what about when I’m on the road performing?”
The way he grinned made her fall in love with him all over again. “I think it’s great being married to a celebrity. Do I get to come backstage and kiss the star?”
“You want to travel with me?”
“Not only want to, I’m planning to. Whenever I can.”
Her husband’s face was the dearest thing in the world to her, and she traced his fine cheekbones then his lips before she could speak.
“You keep surprising me.”
“Good, Mrs. Westmoreland. I plan to do that the rest of our lives.”
Skylar took a long sip of tea and felt how it did soothe the soul. “There’s something else I have to tell you.” He waited, watching her over the rim of his teacup. “What happened yesterday reminded me of all those years I endured as the object of censure right in the midst of Daddy’s church. Mondays always felt like being released from prison. I don’t want to feel that the rest of my life, Daniel.”
“What are you saying, Sky?”
“I’m saying that I don’t expect miracles here because people are only human. I want to be at your side, but if there are many repeat performances of yesterday, I know I won’t bear them with grace.”
He grinned again. “I would guess not. I know that stinger firsthand.”
His generosity of spirit amazed Skylar, and what amazed her even more was her good fortune. How had she ever found a man like Daniel? What stroke of good fortune had set this absolute prince among men in her path?
Looking at his sweet smile and feeling his total adoration, she swore she would never do anything to bring harm to this man. She would walk over jagged glass before she would bring disaster to Daniel.
“All in all, I think it best if I don’t even go to church. At least until all this blows over. Out of sight, out of mind. What do you think?”
“Skylar, I don’t want you ever to think you have to put in an appearance for my sake or for the sake of anyone else. But I also don’t want to think you’re staying away from church or any other place you want to be because of anyone else. I like to think that people really do want to be good and loving and tolerant. Why don’t we give them a little time, give them a chance to love you?”
Though she didn’t share his view of other people’s motives, she loved him enough to endure a while longer in order to put his theory to the test.
“I can do that.”
“Good.”
“Thank you for making this talk easy, Daniel.”
“You’re more than welcome.” He pulled her into his arms and kissed her. “Always, my love.”
He kissed her again, deeply this time, and she saw how her husband had the power to move her from loving gratitude to overwhelming desire in a matter of seconds. The thrill of his touch set off little bonfires underneath her skin, and she slid her hands under his shirt so she could touch his dampened skin.
“Hmmm. I want to lick that sweat off,” she murmured, and he picked her up and carried her into the overgrown garden, telling her in the most erotic terms exactly what he intended to do to her.
“Here? In broad open daylight?”
“Yes.” He grinned. “Thank God for tall brick walls.”
Early the next morning while Skylar was in the shower singing “The Man I Love,” Daniel called Hannah.
“I need you to rally the troops,” he said.
“What’s the problem, Daniel?”
He told her about the reaction of his congregation to Skylar. “When we walk into church Sunday I want Skylar to be flanked by family. I want everybody to see that she is not only approved by my family, she is beloved.”
“Em and Jake will come. They’re still in Atlanta. She said she was going to call you anyhow…some last-minute changes in their wedding plans.”
“What?”
�
�She’s being mysterious about everything. All she said was that it’s top secret.”
“What about you, Hannah. Can you come?”
“I can do even better than that. I’ll send Mom.”
“She won’t leave Dad.”
“I’ll make her. If she doesn’t take a break from being caregiver, I’m afraid we’re going to have two sick people on our hands.”
“She looks tired, but I don’t think she’s that bad.”
“You don’t know shit from Shinola, Daniel. You had your head in the clouds the whole time you were here.”
“You could say that.”
“I just did. I’ll make reservations for Mom on the six o’clock flight. Friday.”
“You’d better ask her first.”
“Leave everything to me. All you have to do is be there at the airport to pick her up.”
“Thanks, sis.”
“Don’t call me sis.”
She hung up and Daniel sat at his desk laughing. “Lord help the poor man who falls in love with Hannah,” he said, then he went upstairs and joined his wife in the shower.
It took them two hours to get clean.
Chapter Thirty-Two
From the diary of Anne Beaufort Westmoreland:
October 4, 200l
I’m leaving tomorrow for Atlanta. I still can’t believe it. I don’t know how I let Hannah talk me into it. Actually, I didn’t. She used emotional blackmail. She said, “Dad would be mad as hell if he knew you let Daniel and Skylar down in order to hover over him. Besides, you know how he’d hate being treated like an invalid.”
Oh, I know, I know. She’s right. Michael is a strong man, full of pride. He must hate lying there flat on his back helpless, and apparently I’m not helping him one little bit, otherwise why isn’t he awake?
And who knows? Maybe if I leave him for the weekend he’ll get scared he’s losing me and snap out of that coma just to make sure he doesn’t.
Hannah will be here with Michael, of course. She has a new assignment, somewhere in Alaska I think, but she told her editor she couldn’t leave for another couple of weeks. Until after her sister’s wedding.
