Texas Blonde

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Texas Blonde Page 15

by Victoria Thompson


  "What plans do you have for the wedding?" Blanche asked primly, only the twinkle in her eyes betraying her true character.

  "Mr. Logan has invited everyone in the county, I'm afraid," Felicity reported unhappily. "We're going to roast a steer and have dancing and-"

  "Sounds like quite a wingding. I'm a little jealous. When Sam and me got hitched, it was just us and the preacher." She patted Felicity's hand comfortingly. "It'll be lots of fun."

  Felicity was not quite so sure. She didn't say so, but Blanche seemed to know anyway. "Shell have fun, won't she, Candace?" Blanche asked, looking for support.

  "Oh, yes, ma'am. She'll have barrels of fun." Candace did not sound too sure either. "She'll need someone to stand up with her, though. She don't know any womenfolk around here."

  "Stand up with me?" Felicity repeated, uncertain exactly what that meant.

  "Yes," Blanche explained. "You need a woman to stand with you for the wedding, and Joshua will have a man, the best man and the maid of honor."

  Felicity turned to Candace, the only female friend she had in the world, but Candace shook her head slightly. No, a Negro servant could not witness the wedding. "Mrs. Delano might do it, if you asked her real nice," Candace suggested.

  Blushing slightly, Felicity turned back to Mrs. Delano. "Would you?" she asked.

  "Would I ever!" Blanche agreed, vastly pleased. "Won't that set the tongues to wagging? Poor Blanche Delano had to stand up at Josh Logan's wedding! I can hear it now!"

  Not quite able to understand why Blanche would be so happy at the prospect of being gossiped about, Felicity managed only a thin smile. "Thank you," she said, but Blanche waved her gratitude away with a sweep of her elegant hands.

  "Well, I reckon you've got lots to do, so I'll be on my way. I haven't even had time to unpack from my trip yet! Thank you for the tea." Blanche rose, leaving her untouched cup behind.

  Felicity walked her out, still feeling a little overwhelmed. Blanche paused at the front door and took Felicity's hand again. "I know all this must seem a little frightening to you. If you need a friend, you can count on me. Candace will take good care of you, too, I know. Just remember not to let Joshua have things his own way all the time. That spoils a man faster than anything."

  "I won't," Felicity promised, smiling in spite of herself. She vividly remembered how she had refused him the night before and began to feel a little better about herself.

  "I'll come early on Saturday to help you get ready. Do you have a dress?" Blanche asked.

  "I'm going to town today for one," Felicity replied.

  "Good. Then I'd really better get going so you can be on your way. Good luck!" she called over her shoulder as she sailed across the porch and down the steps to her waiting buggy.

  Feeling slightly exhausted from her encounter with the amazing Mrs. Delano, Felicity stood in the front doorway and waved as Blanche drove her buggy out of the ranch yard.

  Standing in the yard, Josh watched Blanche leave with a feeling of relief. The woman was too forward by half. Imagine asking him outright why he'd never taken her to bed. And the things she'd said about Felicity. Josh shook his head in wonder, wishing Sam Delano had taken a firmer hand with his outspoken wife to cure her of her boldness. Since it was now far too late for such a remedy, Josh shifted his attention to the woman who would be his own wife.

  She was still standing in the doorway looking slightly dazed from meeting Blanche. Meeting Blanche could do that to a person, Josh knew, recalling that Blanche had actually mellowed through the years. When he had first met her, twelve years earlier, she had smoked cigars and cursed like a man. Blanche was not the type of woman he wanted to influence his wife. He took the porch stairs two at a time.

  "What did she say to you?" he demanded of Felicity.

  Felicity blinked, startled at his tone. "We talked about the wedding," she said, extremely conscious of how close he was standing and loath to tell him what else they had discussed. "I asked her to stand up with me."

  "You did what?" Josh exploded.

  But Felicity did not flinch. She remembered what Blanche had warned her about. Straightening to her full height, she looked right into his gray eyes. "I asked her to stand up with me. Who else was I supposed to ask? I don't know a single other woman except Candace."

  Josh scowled at her, unable to argue with her reasoning but unwilling to accept it either. This wedding was turning into a regular circus. People would be talking about it for the next hundred years. He changed the subject. "If you're ready, let's go. I'll tell Gus to hitch the wagon." Again, he added silently. Maybe this time they would get away without incident.

  They did, but by the time they were out of sight of the ranch, Felicity began to grow uneasy at the prospect of being alone with him for a long period of time. "How far is it to town?" she asked.

  "An hour or so," he replied without looking at her.

  Felicity knew he was still angry, although why he should be, she had no idea. If she had thought for one minute he was upset about Mrs. Delano being her matron of honor, she would have brought the subject up again and cleared the air. Some instinct told her his fury had nothing to do with that, however, so she remained silent, acutely aware of his body so close to hers on the wagon seat.

  Once again she got that strange ache, deep inside of her. Even in the open air with the stiff Texas breeze whipping around where they sat high on the wagon seat, she could still smell his musky, masculine scent. She knew exactly how hard and warm his body would feel if she were to reach out and touch him. Curling her hands into fists against the temptation, Felicity tried to concentrate on watching the passing scenery. Unfortunately, the unbroken line of the prairie and the broad canopy of blue sky provided inadequate distraction.

  It was only natural to feel the way she did, she supposed, after what had happened between them. Part of it was apprehension over the possibility that he might yet change his mind about marrying her. But what was the other part? Surely one lapse had not turned her into a complete wanton, and yet she could not stop the feelings of desire that tortured her every time he came near. What would become of her if he turned her out after all? She shivered slightly at the thought.

  Josh slapped the horses to hurry them along. He was not enjoying the ride. Having Felicity so close, where he could feel her every move and practically sense her every emotion, was pure torture. Earlier, when Blanche had arrived, he had been anticipating taking Felicity in his arms. The sharp edge of that desire still prodded him, stirring memories of the way she felt and tasted, the way she yielded in sweet surrender.

  Knowing that an open wagon on a public road was hardly the place to indulge such an impulse did nothing to improve his mood.

  But that wasn't the only thing bothering him. As strongly as he wanted her, he still suffered from the guilt of having taken her once. Although he had denied it at the time, the truth was that he had seduced her, plain and simple. He had ignored her protests and taken advantage of her innocence to have his way. The knowledge disturbed him, and even the fact that he intended to marry her did little to ease his conscience.

  "I want you to buy whatever you need in town," guilt prompted him to say. "I want you to have a fancy white wedding dress, so buy the best material they have." That should please her, he thought. Only the very privileged could indulge in the custom of wearing white on their wedding day. Felicity stared at him in amazement. What on earth was he thinking of? "I can't wear white," she said in a strained voice, only too conscious of how risky it might be to displease him by refusing his wishes.

  Josh frowned, a little surprised at her reaction. Of course, a white dress would not be of much use to a rancher's wife. Maybe she was only being sensible. "I know it's not practical and that you'll probably never be able to wear it for anything else, but I told you, I want this wedding to be fancy." He glanced over at her to be sure she understood that he wanted the best for her. She turned away from him instantly, but he still caught a glimpse of her face. Her
expression startled him.

  "I can't wear white," Felicity explained through stiff lips, "because of what happened." Too mortified to meet his eyes, she studied her clenched fists instead.

  A full minute passed before Josh comprehended her meaning. When he did, he jerked the team to a dead halt in the middle of the road. "What the hell does that mean?" he demanded.

  "You know what it means, and I've asked you before not to swear at me," Felicity said primly in an effort to divert his attention.

  Her effort failed. "That's ridiculous! You can wear any color you want," Josh said, shifting in the seat to face her.

  Dismayed at her own temerity, she still insisted, "Not white." She was a fool to oppose his wishes, but she could not seem to stop herself.

  "No one's going to know," he pointed out impatiently, although his irritation was directed more at himself than at her. Knowing she had every reason to feel soiled because of what he had done only angered him more.

  "I'll know," Felicity said softly, closing her eyes against the tears that suddenly threatened.

  Dropping the reins, Josh grabbed her arms and turned her forcibly toward him. "But I'm the only one who'll care, and I want you in white." In his frustration, he longed to shake her, to use his physical strength to force her into accepting this small token of restitution. But when he saw her tortured face, he understood the folly of such a wish. His hold on her gentled as the urge to comfort her overwhelmed him, and he drew her close.

  "No!" she said, but the sound was muffled against his mouth. In another second she was thinking "yes" as his arms slid around her, enveloping her in their strength. All thoughts of their argument fled before the onslaught of his kiss. The ache in her stomach became raw pain, and she clung to him frantically. The whole world lurched in reaction.

  He thrust her away, muttering the kind of words she had asked him not to use, and scrambled for the reins. In the next instant she realized that the whole world had not lurched, only their wagon. The horses, sensing the lack of control, had made a tentative bid for freedom. He quickly checked that bid. By the time he had subdued the horses, Felicity had regained her own control. She tensed defensively, recalling Blanche's warning about letting him have his own way. She had weakened for a moment but she was strong now. Ignoring her previous fears about displeasing him, she prepared to fight him off if he tried to kiss her again. She simply could not allow it, not if she wanted to maintain her own pride.

  Josh looked down at her, his breath still coming hard and fast. He wanted nothing more than to drag her over into the back of the wagon and make love to her until she sobbed his name. Then she would have neither the strength nor the inclination to deny him anything. Unfortunately, this was neither the time nor the place, a fact he had almost forgotten, with embarrassing consequences. He sighed in frustration.

  "You are going to wear white," he said hoarsely, and slapped the team into motion. There, now she would understand that he was determined to honor her publicly, no matter what might have happened privately.

  Felicity pressed her lips together over the sharp words that trembled on her tongue. Why was he so determined to humiliate her? She would feel like a hypocrite decked out in a virginal white gown. But she realized the danger of arguing with him anymore. If he thought her too stubborn and sharp-tongued, he might yet send her away. If he insisted, she would buy white material. She would simply not use it.

  Felicity recognized the town of Prospect even though she had never seen it before. In her travels she had seen a hundred towns exactly like it: one main street where the major businesses were located, and several side streets lined with houses in varying states of repair. In spite of the uncomfortable silence that still stretched between her and Mr. Logan, she felt the familiar surge of excitement over coming to a new place. Apprehension mingled with her excitement this time, though. This time she was not the ragged child of an itinerant photographer, her figure hidden by a baggy dress, her golden hair braided tightly and tucked up out of sight beneath a faded bonnet so no one would notice her. Today she was Josh Logan's intended bride, and everyone would want to get a look at her.

  Fortunately, the town was fairly deserted, although enough idlers lined the street to make her feel uncomfortable. All of them turned to watch her drive by.

  Apparently oblivious to their audience, Mr. Logan pulled the wagon up in front of the store and hopped down to secure the horses. Felicity tried to match his cool unconcern and studiously avoided glancing at a single person. After what seemed a long time, he reached up to help her down from the seat. The sight of his hands reaching for her set her heart to skittering in her chest. Unconsciously, she drew back.

  "Felicity," he whispered impatiently, "I'm hardly likely to do anything to you on Main Street."

  Hating the hot color that rushed to her cheeks, Felicity allowed him to lift her to the ground. If her heart was still racing and her blood pounding in her ears, she gave no outward indication of it. Instead she walked calmly up the wooden steps to the sidewalk and on into the store.

  She paused inside the doorway for a moment, allowing her eyes to accustom themselves to the interior dimness. Inhaling the mingled odors of leather and spices and tobacco and pickles and the thousand other fragrant items lining the shelves of the mercantile, she enjoyed the delicious realization that today, for the first time since she could remember, she was entering a store to buy something just for herself. How often had she accompanied her father to places exactly like this one and covetously eyed the beautiful goods displayed, only to walk out with nothing more than a sack of flour or a side of bacon? Today would be different.

  "You must be Mr. Logan's… uh… friend," a female voice said.

  Felicity looked up to see a middle-aged woman wearing an apron and a quizzical look approaching her. "Yes, I…"

  "Mrs. Hankins, this is Miss Felicity Storm," Josh said, entering the store behind her.

  "How do you do," Mrs. Hankins said, smiling warmly. "I knew it had to be you. I recognized the dress."

  Felicity smiled back, remembering that Mr. Logan had told her how the lady at the store had chosen the dresses for her. "I'm very pleased to meet you," Felicity said. "And I want to thank you for everything you did."

  "I'm just glad I was able to fit you," Mrs. Hankins said, stepping back a little to examine Felicity's dress with an approving eye.

  "We're here to get some more things for Felicity," Josh said. "She'll need a wedding dress and-"

  "A wedding dress! Then it's true! You really are getting married," Mrs. Hankins exclaimed delightedly. "We'd heard rumors but… Of course, I should have guessed something of the sort when he told me he wanted the blue dresses to match your eyes."

  Felicity's blue eyes widened at this information. Somehow Mr. Logan did not seem the sort of man who would think of something so whimsical. Even Blanche had been skeptical of his impulsiveness. Could they both have been mistaken? Could he possibly have a romantic streak neither of them suspected? Then she remembered that he had mentioned something about matching the dresses to her eyes the day he had given them to her. Might he have some softer feelings for her after all? Felicity turned to him, hoping to find an answer in his expression.

  Josh frowned down at her, easily reading the hope on her face. She wanted him to be in love with her, so smitten that he had ridden at breakneck speed to purchase a garment the exact color of her eyes. But he had done nothing of the kind. In fact, Mrs. Hankins had asked him what color her eyes were, and he had just happened to remember. Unwilling to explain all that, however, he shifted his attention back to Mrs. Hankins. "We want the very best white satin that you have, and some lace, too." he said, knowing such a request would wipe all other thoughts from Felicity's mind.

  Once more Felicity felt heat scorching her face, but this time her humiliation produced anger. How she would have liked to inform Mr. Joshua Logan that he could take his white satin and lace and jump off the nearest cliff with them straight into the fires of perdition
. Only the knowledge of how embarrassed Mrs. Hankins would be to witness such a display stilled her tongue. That and the fact that Felicity was biting her tongue fiercely.

  Through the haze of her fury she heard Mrs. Hankins say, "I'm sorry, Mr. Logan, but I don't have any white satin, or white anything for that matter. I don't get much call for it. I could order some, but it might take a month or more. I don't expect you want to wait that long, do you?" she added with a knowing smile.

  "No," Josh grudgingly admitted. Even the thought of waiting until Saturday was extremely unpleasant, but he hated to let anyone know how very desperate he was to have the girl.

  Mrs. Hankins expected no other answer, however, and seemed not to notice any cosmic significance in his negative reply. She was already leading Felicity toward the back of the store. "I have a bolt of lovely gold taffeta that I think will be perfect," she was saying.

  Felicity threw a triumphant look over her shoulder at him, irritating him all over again, but he swallowed his annoyance, determined not to let her see it.

  "Hey, Josh, didn't expect to see you back in town so soon," Mr. Hankins said as he entered the store.

  "I brought my…"-Josh had to stop to think of the word-"… fiancee into town to buy a wedding dress," he finished, hating the flush he knew was crawling up his neck.

  Hankins grinned expansively. "Congratulations," he said, extending his hand to shake. "We'd heard about it but weren't sure it was really true. So you're finally getting married, huh?"

  Josh shook hands with the storekeeper and nodded, unwilling to pursue this line of conversation. In his search for a new topic, he recalled what he had discussed with Hankins on his last visit. "Did that fellow you told me about ever show up in town again?" he asked, realizing he had completely forgotten to even mention the man to Candace in all the fuss about Felicity and the wedding plans.

  Hankins frowned. "No. You mean he never showed up out at your place?"

  "Not yet," Josh replied, uneasily aware of Hankins's concern. Josh had managed to convince himself that the stranger was harmless, but seeing Hankins again stirred his doubts.

 

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