David, Michael, and Solo had been friends a longtime. David brought Solo into their study group. For Solo’s own good, he’d told them. But once they got to know Solo, they all knew his presence was for their own good, not Solo’s. Solo didn’t need a study group. They needed him.
Somehow over the years, she’d fit into the group. A pal. That’s how they thought of her, good old Nyssa. Everybody’s pal.
Michael teased Solo in a valiant effort to get him to talk about their whirlwind romance. Because that’s what the courtship was. All of a sudden, out of the blue, Nyssa and Solo would tie the knot and the idea shocked everyone.
“I liked Nyssa,” Michael said. “But she never noticed anyone but you, Solo. When she looked at you, she heated up. You told us she was like a kid sister but we knew better.”
Kid sister? Was that how he thought of her?
“In those days she didn’t like me much. Thought I played too hard and studied too little.”
“Well, she probably resented those easy A’s you got. We all begrudged the A’s from time to time. I remember when I stayed up all night with Nyssa so we could cram for a computer tech exam. Thought I did great when I ended up with an eighty-five, Nyssa was overjoyed with an eighty-nine. But when we saw your grade, ninety-two, and we both knew you didn’t study, she was ready to cram the book down your throat.”
“You know I read the material.”
“We both knew, understood you went to all the lectures too.”
“What you didn’t know was I studied every night because I realized I wouldn’t have time to cram. There was a basketball game I had to photograph.”
“Come on, Michael, can’t you think of something else to do except give him a hard time. It isn’t like this marriage is for real or anything. Let’s save the good stuff for when he’s in love and it’s not a bogus wedding.”
So they did know.
Solo stuffed his hands in his pockets.
“Nyssa’s a real trooper, going through the ceremony and all.”
Yeah, Nyssa was the best. Is the best. Solo relaxed and wished there was some way to pay Nyssa back for what she had done and would do. But of course there wasn’t. And he knew he hurt Nyssa--badly. He just didn’t know how to fix the damage.
When Solo set his drink down, he signaled the end of the evening. He felt mellow, and very contented. As to how he felt about the wedding, he couldn’t be happier.
The three of them rose, their strides a slow lumber as they made their way to the tent the Colonel had flown in for their private use. The girls would use the loft bedroom and his grandparents would travel back to the trading post.
“Well.” Michael draped an arm around Solo, “here’s to the bachelor who’s about to marry a special girl tomorrow and has already made plans for the annulment.” They hugged, all three of them, and laughed at the humor of the situation.
But Solo didn’t feel like laughing. The thought of the dissolution of his marriage brought a lump to his throat. He felt as if his friends had cut through his heart.
“What’s that?”
“What’s what?” David asked.
“Your imagination. City people are always jumpy,” Solo said.
“It might be one of the girls in a futile attempt to crash the bachelor’s party,” Michael said.
“In your wildest dreams old boy.” David glanced around the porch. “No one, not a soul.”
“In all seriousness, I hope the wedding and the divorce work out. If I were you, I wouldn’t want to be stuck with Nyssa for the rest of my life. Miss prim and proper,” Michael said.
“The ice maiden. Didn’t she leave New York under unusual circumstances? Couldn’t take the heat?” David asked suddenly.
“I heard she had a nervous breakdown.” Michael said as he sipped the last of his brew.
Nyssa deserved better than this petty gossip. They sounded like a bunch of old men with nothing better to do than sit around with checkerboards in front of them while they spread rumors. Anger swept through Solo. Even though he had always been the one to keep his temper in check, the one who cooled all the male hormones that blazed from time-to-time, Solo had the overwhelming urge to flatten Michael Fitsimmons' nose.
“I heard she had an affair. The guy dumped her for a lady that didn’t have quite as much starch in--”
That did the trick. Before Solo had time to consider the consequences, he’d grabbed Michael by the front of his shirt and slammed him against a tall tree.
That got their attention.
Solo didn’t hit Michael but he swung him around until he could see both his friends. Furious, and frustrated from the last few days so close yet so far away from Nyssa, Solo did all he could do to hold his temper in check.
David held up his hands, looking as if he enjoyed this. Michael’s hands hung limp at his side. “I didn’t mean anything. We always joke about Nyssa and you know she understands.”
“Not anymore. You don’t joke about her and if you don’t have something nice to say about her then don’t talk.”
“Michael gets the picture,” David said. “I know I do. Come on, now that we understand each other let’s forget what happened. There’s a wedding here tomorrow and I for one don’t want to miss the ceremony.”
***
Before the men finished their conversation, Nyssa walked away from the porch dazed and numb. The sound of their voices and their taunts pounded in her head so she kept her strides long and brisk. Oh, how close they’d come to the truth.
“Miss prim and proper. A nervous breakdown,” she said absently. “An affair.”
She escaped her friends and their jokes in search of space and time. The solace the outdoors offered acted as a healing bomb on her frayed nerves.
“An affair--couldn’t take the heat.
An affair was the farthest notion from the truth she’d heard in a long time. Prim and proper had been one of her nicknames in the city just as it had been in college. Too stuffy to handle another. All the men wanted was a quick lay and they expected every female to oblige. But not the ice maiden. Robert appreciated her morals. So what did she care what Solo and his friends thought of her?
That was just the point. She did care --a lot. It mattered to her what Solo thought and that he’d never compromise her.
He’d never been attracted to her before and if the conversation with his friends held any merit, he still wasn’t attracted to her. With that realization a slow crawl of pain lumbered through her, eating at her.
“This doesn’t change anything,” she said. “Tomorrow I’ll tell Sarah the truth and we’ll call the wedding off.”
Chapter Nine
It rained. No poured. Well, what else could go wrong? The weather was a minor problem compared to the other obstacles. Her wedding dress still hung on the door of the tiny closet, and Sarah stood by the gown while she hummed and rearranged the folds.
A crack of lightning momentarily brightened the room, the flash blinding, the rumble deafening. It had to be the gods that complained. No one should marry under these circumstances.
Sarah didn’t look the least bit sick. When Nyssa turned to face Sarah, she held some kind of orange concoction in her hand and a champagne bottle sat on the table next to the window.
“Sarah? I--” She moistened her lips. Every good intention she had of stopping the ceremony dissolved. The pause too long and too stilted. She didn’t know what to say. “I--”
“What dear?”
Sarah beamed and her eyes twinkled. She brushed at an imaginary dust mote floating in the air.
“What time is it?”
“Oh, nearly ten-thirty. Reverend Thomas will be here in two hours. Do you think that’s enough time to get ready?”
Nyssa slumped back in the bed and covered her eyes with her arm. She didn’t want to think about dressing, nor did she want to go through with the ceremony. When she decided last night she would tell Sarah the truth, she didn’t know she’d wake up with Sarah in her room--humming.
Now the rain didn’t pour but pounded. A torrent of water slid down the gutters and across the window panes, all the carefully arranged decorations--soggy. That was apropos. This whole affair had floundered from the start. Perhaps if she kept her eyes closed, the nightmare would vanish.
“We moved the white bells and the orchids onto the porch.” Sarah fluttered around the room and pushed the curtains aside, letting in more of the dreary weather. “The men attached tarps to the roof hoping we’ll stay dry for the ceremony.”
Nyssa groaned then rolled over to her stomach. She hugged a wilted pillow to her chest in search of comfort. The quilt nearly covered her head, but not quite, so she was tempted to burrow deeper. Solo’s grandmother had other ideas.
“Come on. Wake up, sleepy head. Your friends are in the kitchen, busy with lunch for after the ceremony. I brought in a couple of muffins and a glass of orange juice for you. Oh, I’m so excited. If you’re half as euphoric as I am, you won’t be able to eat a thing. On my wedding day I had the worst jitters. Why, I thought a whole swarm of butterflies flitted about inside my stomach. And you know what? My mother wouldn’t tell me anything about the wedding night. She said it was the bridegroom’s place. Well, I don’t believe in that nonsense. Go ahead Nyssa. Since your mother isn’t alive and can’t be here, I’d like to take her place. If you don’t mind, that is.”
Sarah tugged at the corner of the quilt. Nyssa tugged back. The quilt sagged and Nyssa assumed, or perhaps hoped was a better description of what she thought, that Sarah had gone away.
“We were worried about your brother. But his plane arrived safe and sound, thunder storm and all. He’s outside with Solo’s friends, setting up the tarp.”
Nyssa gave up. Her brother. What had she done? What was she about to do?
Sarah clapped her hands together. “This is the best day of my life.”
“Nyssa,” Solo’s voice stopped Sarah’s fluttering and they both looked at the door.
“What do you want? You’re not supposed to see the bride before the wedding, Solo St. John. Now scoot. Do you hear me? Scoot!”
“I don’t want to see her. Well, I do, but her brother is outside. He insists on talking to her before she walks down the aisle. Won’t take no for an answer.”
“Tell him he can’t talk to Nyssa. She’s in the bathtub.”
Nyssa felt her mouth drop open. She’d never heard Sarah speak to her grandson in such a curt, abrupt way.
“Sarah--I’d like to see Jon.”
A conversation with her brother wouldn’t be easy. Jon had never cared for Solo or the way she tagged along like a little puppy dog on Solo’s adventures. Jon thought Solo took awful advantage of her, but Solo didn’t. How can you take advantage of someone who races into every situation with her eyes wide open, and is always given at least half a chance to say no?
Before she had time to inhale a ragged breath, Jon stood in the doorway. And he wasn’t smiling. Nyssa put on the robe Sarah handed her.
“I’ll be back in five minutes,” Sarah said then stepped around Jon.
“She’s a sprightly thing.”
Jon watched Sarah for a second before he turned back to the room. “Do you intend to go through with this?”
How did she tell her brother yes, she wanted to marry a man who never looked twice at her except when he needed something. How could she tell Jon that only seconds before he barged in, she’d had every intention of telling Sarah the truth in order to stop the wedding.
“Sarah’s dying.”
Jon looked askance. “That’s bull.”
“She is. The Colonel, well I know she doesn’t look sick but before she heard about the wedding she was in the hospital. The Colonel told me she might only have a few months to live.”
“And you believed him?”
Jon stepped farther into the room. He pulled up a chair and straddled the seat then leaning on the back he waited.
“I had no reason not to.” Nyssa shifted uncomfortably.
“No, I suppose not. The last thing Colonel St. John would endorse would be a marriage between you and his grandson. He’s never thought you were good enough for Solo. But for that matter, the opposite is true. I’ve known you were too good for that man since the first time I met him.”
“I have to do this for Solo.”
Jon smiled grimly. “If you’re set on this, I know I can’t change your mind. You always were stubborn. But remember a marriage is for real--for a lifetime. That must be Sarah and if I don’t leave, she’ll break the door down. Good luck, sis.” He bent over and gave her a brotherly kiss on the cheek.
***
The rain did stop for the short ceremony, sunshine filtering through the foggy mist momentarily. To Nyssa, everyone looked subdued, unhappy, except the grandparents.
Her legs trembled so hard, she knew the only way she would remain on her feet was to hold on tight to Solo. She couldn’t look at her friends or Jon. Focused on Reverend Thomas, her thoughts in a daze, the words to the ceremony and her replies passed her by, one after the other.
When the minister told Solo to kiss the bride, Nyssa heard a clap behind her and knew without looking the noise came from Sarah. At least one person was pleased.
Solo looked pained when he bent to kiss her. The slight brush of his lips against hers left her breathless and wanting. Only a few hours ago, he’d almost made love to her. Yet if that kiss meant anything, his lack of enthusiasm loudly proclaimed he regretted everything that had transpired between them.
She reminded herself this marriage of convenience would soon be terminated. Her instincts screamed out to her to build a solid barrier between her heart and Solo St. John.
Just as they started down what couldn’t remotely be called an aisle, the sky opened and the rain poured once again. The tension simmering among the guests was released in one gigantic sigh. All her tightly leased emotions erupted in a stifled giggle.
Even though they walked arm in arm, Solo brought his free hand to hers and squeezed her fingers reassuringly. It was only ten feet to the reception area the men hastily constructed the day before, but it seemed a mile.
When they stood beneath the tent and she saw the food laden tables, Nyssa suddenly realized she was Mrs. Solo St. John, at least for a few weeks.
Nyssa smiled with a new-found confidence. The receiving line was short, thank goodness. She accepted kisses on the cheek from her brother and Solo’s friends then hugs from April and Candace. Sarah stood beside her beaming and somehow Nyssa felt right about the wedding and the marriage.
Besides, for a few short days or weeks she got to think of Solo as her husband, something she’d always wished for. He was the most handsome man on this earth, even more gorgeous than usual in his black tux, and she could pretend the marriage was forever.
She moved closer to her new husband, relishing the thought that he belonged to her and she to him. When his hand encircled her waist, she blushed but leaned into him anyway. It was acceptable, this behavior of hers. Shouldn’t a bride cling to her husband unashamedly? Shouldn’t she?
Of course she should.
The next thing Nyssa knew, Sarah was proclaiming, “Time to cut the cake.”
Solo led her to the table, his hand on the small of her back.
Safari Moon Page 15
