Carter

by Joan Johnston

  “Yes,” she croaked.

  “Keep your chin up,” he murmured. He turned to the judge and said, “We’re ready.”

  Desiree appreciated Carter’s encouraging words but had no idea how to tell him so. She heard very little of what the judge said. She was too conscious of the man standing beside her. She could smell a masculine cologne and feel the heat of him along her right side. On her other side, she was aware of Nicole’s death grip on her hand.

  “The ring?” the judge asked.

  “Here.” Carter produced a simple gold band, which he slipped on Desiree’s left hand.

  He turned back to the judge, who was about to continue the ceremony when Desiree said, “I have a ring for you, too.”

  She saw the surprise on Carter’s face, but he didn’t object. She fumbled in the pocket of her skirt until she found the gold band she had so painstakingly selected. She was aware of the calluses on Carter’s palm and fingertips as she held his hand to slip on the ring. Desiree dared a glance at Carter’s face when she saw how well it fit.

  He smiled at her, and she felt her heart skip a beat. She turned to face the judge, feeling confused and flustered.

  Carter took her hand in his and waited for the judge to continue. It wasn’t long before he said, “I now pronounce you man and wife.”

  To Desiree, the wedding ceremony was over too quickly, and it didn’t feel “finished.” She realized the judge hadn’t suggested that Carter kiss his bride. She waited, every muscle tensed, wondering if he would act on his own. A second ticked past, another, and another.

  Which was when Nicole said, “Are you going to kiss Mommy now?”

  “Nicole!”

  Desiree’s face reddened with embarrassment. She couldn’t bear to look at Carter, afraid of what she would see.

  The sound of a masculine chuckle was followed by the feel of Carter’s hand on her unblemished cheek. She closed her eyes, flinching when she felt his moist breath against her face. She heard him make a sound of displeasure in his throat and felt his hesitation.

  Desiree forced herself to stand still, waiting for the touch of his lips against hers, but her body stiffened, rejecting before it came, this sign of masculine possession.

  Soft. So soft. And gentle.

  Desiree’s eyes flickered open, and she stared wide-eyed at the man who had just become her husband. Her breathing was erratic, and her heart was bumping madly. It hadn’t been a painful kiss. Quite the contrary. Her lips had…tingled. She raised her hand toward her mouth in wonder.

  Carter was staring at her, the expression on his face inscrutable. She had no idea what he was thinking.

  She had married a stranger.

  It was a terrifying thought, and Desiree felt the panic welling up inside her. Carter must have sensed her feelings, because he quickly thanked the judge, shook Carmichael’s hand, watched as the witnesses signed the marriage certificate, in which Desiree had once again given up her maiden name of Parrish, and hustled her and Nicole out of the courthouse.

  “I’ve made reservations for lunch at Benham’s,” Carter said, naming one of the fanciest restaurants in Casper.

  Desiree put a hand to her queasy stomach. The last thing she wanted right now was food.

  “I’m starving,” Nicole piped up.

  “I guess that’s settled,” Carter said. “Let’s go eat.”

  “Not in a restaurant,” Desiree protested. “I put a roast in the oven before I left the ranch. Please, let’s go home.”

  “Home,” Carter said. It had a wonderful sound. “All right, then. Home. I’ll follow you in my pickup.”

  Desiree welcomed the brief respite before they sat down to their first meal as husband and wife. Once in the truck, Nicole focused her attention on Desiree’s wedding bouquet, which left Desiree free to mentally compare this wedding with her first one.

  She had been only eighteen years old and desperately in love with Burley Kelton. Burley had come to work as a cowhand for her father, and she had fallen hard for his broad shoulders and his rakish smile. After a whirlwind romance they had married in the First Presbyterian Church. She had worn her mother’s antique-lace wedding gown and carried a pungent bouquet of gardenias.

  Desiree had been a total innocent on her wedding night, naive and frightened, but so in love with Burley that she would have done anything he asked.

  Only Burley hadn’t asked for anything. He had taken what he wanted. Brutally. Horribly. Painfully. She didn’t dare cry out for fear her parents would hear her in their room down the hall from her bedroom. So she bore her wedding night stoically. She survived, to endure even worse in the next weeks and months of her marriage.

  They lived with her parents, and Burley continued working for her father. She kept up a front, refusing to let her parents know how bad things were. Then her mom and dad were killed in a freak one-car accident, and she was left alone with Burley. It was a ghastly end to what she now realized were girlish dreams of romance.

  Burley told her the pain she felt when he exercised his husbandly rights was her fault. He had to work hard to find any pleasure in her, because she was frigid. He should have married a woman who had more experience, one who knew how to satisfy a man.

  Even though Burley found her wanting in bed, he was insanely jealous if she so much as said hello to another man. When she suggested they might be better off apart, he became enraged and said he had taken his vows “Till death do us part!” and that he had meant them.

  It had almost come to that.

  Desiree stole a glance at Carter in the rearview mirror. At least she would be spared her wifely duties for a time. Maybe if she explained that he would find no joy in her, Carter might even change his mind about wanting to take her to bed.

  Carter was having similar, but contrary, thoughts. In fact, he was wondering how long it would be before his wife became his wife—in the biblical sense. He had stood next to her during the short ceremony and felt her heat, smelled the soft floral fragrance that clung to her hair and clothes and felt himself forcing back the feelings of want and need that rose within him.

  He had seen her flinch when he tried to kiss her after the ceremony. It wasn’t the first time she had recoiled from him, either. She must have been badly treated by some man, somewhere along the line. Her father? Her husband? So what were the chances she was going to let him get anywhere near her, anytime soon? Not good, he admitted. She had said they would have to wait until they knew each other better, and she had no idea when that would be. He was willing to be patient—for a while. He couldn’t help comparing this wedding with his first one.

  Carter hadn’t been able to keep his hands off Jeanine, and she had been equally enamored of him. They had anticipated their wedding night by about a year, and knowing what he could expect in bed had kept him aroused through most of the ceremony and reception. He had been so much in love with Jeanine that it had been difficult to force the vows past his constricted throat. Knowing the reason they were marrying had been an extra bonus as far as he was concerned.

  Looking back, he realized that the tears in Jeanine’s eyes hadn’t been tears of joy, as she had professed. His trembling bride had been trembling for entirely different reasons than the ones he had supposed. Now he knew why she had been so miserable. If only…

  Carter swore under his breath. Wishing wouldn’t change the past. He was crazy to be reliving that nightmare, especially when he had just promised himself he wouldn’t look back anymore. He would do better to look forward to the future with Desiree Parrish—no, now Desiree Prescott.

  Carter quashed the awful thought that arose like a many-headed hydra: This woman can’t betray me. Her scarred face will keep her from tempting another man. It wasn’t the first time he had thought it, and he couldn’t truly say whether the scar on her face had been a consideration when he agreed to marry her. But he was ashamed for what he was thinking and grateful that Desiree couldn’t read his mind. She deserved better from the man who had just become her
husband.

  Carter pulled his truck up beside Desiree’s pickup in back of the house. His wife and new daughter were already inside the house before he could catch up to them. If he hadn’t known better, he would have said Desiree was fleeing from him. If she was, she was wasting her time. Now that they were married, there was no place for her to run.

  Desiree hurried to make herself busy before Carter came inside. She turned up the furnace and slipped off her coat and Nicole’s and sent her daughter upstairs to play.

  Then she returned to the kitchen and waited beside the stove, her arms crossed over her chest. Carter didn’t bother to knock before he opened the door and stepped inside. He didn’t bother to close the door, either, just headed straight for her, his stride determined. A moment later he had swept her off her feet and into his arms.

  Desiree grabbed hold of his neck, afraid for a moment he might drop her. His arms tightened around her, and she knew there was no danger of that. He headed right back outside.

  “What are you doing?” she asked breathlessly, her eyes wide with trepidation.

  “There’s a tradition that hasn’t been observed.”

  “What’s that?”

  Once he was outside, he paused long enough to glare down at her. Through clenched teeth he said, “Carrying the bride over the threshold.” He turned around and marched right back into the kitchen.

  Desiree was too astonished to protest. She stared up at his rigid jaw and realized again how little they knew of each other. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I didn’t know you felt so strongly about it, or I would have waited. But we never discussed—”

  “There are a lot of things we haven’t discussed. I guess it’s going to take a while for us to adjust to each other.”

  He was still holding her in his arms. Desiree became increasingly uncomfortable, as another kind of tension began to grow between them. She recognized the signs on Carter’s face. The drooping eyelids, the nostrils flared for the scent of her, the jumping pulse at his throat. She began to struggle for freedom.

  “Let me go. Let me down. Now!”

  His hold tightened. “What the hell’s the matter with you?”

  “Let me go!” she shrieked.

  A moment later she was on her feet. She retreated from him several paces, until her back was against the wall. She stared at him, eyes wide, blood racing. “We agreed we would wait!” she accused.

  “I only wanted a kiss,” he said.

  She shook her head. “No kissing, no touching, nothing until we know each other,” she insisted.

  Desiree watched a muscle jerk in his jaw. She knew he could force her. Burley had. She reached behind her surreptitiously with one hand, searching for a weapon on the counter. But there was nothing close by.

  “What did he do to you?” Carter asked in a quiet voice.

  “What makes you think—”

  “Every time I move too fast you flinch like a horse that’s been whipped. You’re trembling like a beaten animal right now. And the look in your eyes…I’ve seen men facing a nest of rattlers who’ve looked less terrified. It doesn’t take a scientist to figure out you’ve been mistreated. Do you want to tell me about it?”

  Desiree couldn’t get an answer past the lump in her throat. She lowered her eyes to avoid his searching gaze. She couldn’t help jerking when he reached out a hand to her.

  Carter swore under his breath. “I’m not going to hurt you,” he repeated through clenched teeth.

  Desiree forced herself to remain still as he reached out again for her chin and tipped it up so they were staring into each other’s eyes.

  “You’re my wife. We’ll be spending the rest of our lives together. I’m willing to wait as long as it takes for you to accept me in your bed.”

  “No kissing, no—”

  He shook his head. “There’ll be kissing, and hugging and touching. Even friends do that much.”

  “But—”

  He cut her off by putting his lips against hers. Desiree fought the panic, reminding herself that his first kiss had been gentle. This one was no less so, just the barest touch of lips, but she felt a shock clear to her toes. It wasn’t a bad feeling. Oh, no, it wasn’t bad at all.

  Luckily, his lips left hers just at the moment when she felt herself ready to struggle in earnest. When she opened her eyes, she saw that he hadn’t retreated very far.

  “Desiree?”

  “Carter, I…I’m scared,” she admitted in a whisper.

  He drew her slowly into his arms. As his strength enfolded her she forced herself to relax. It wasn’t easy. Burley had sometimes begun gently, only to lose control later.

  Carter’s arms remained loose around her. In a few minutes she realized she was no longer trembling, that she was almost relaxed in his embrace.

  “This is nice,” he murmured in her ear. “You feel good against me.”

  Desiree stiffened. She knew he felt her withdrawal when he said, “It’s all right, Desiree. It’s just a hug, nothing more. Relax, sweetheart.”

  He cajoled her much as he might a reluctant mare, and she found herself responding to his warm baritone voice. She laid her head against his chest and tentatively put her hands at his trim waist.

  Just as she made those gestures of concession, he stepped back from her. She raised her eyes to his in confusion. She hadn’t expected him to stop. But she was glad he had.

  “How soon will lunch be ready?” he asked.

  Desiree turned quickly to the oven. She had completely forgotten about the roast beef during the past tension-filled minutes. “It should be done shortly.”

  “Anything I can do to help?”

  Desiree raised startled eyes to study Carter’s face. “You’re willing to help in the kitchen?”

  “Why not?”

  Burley never had. Burley had said the kitchen was woman’s work. “You could set the table if you’d like.”

  Carter took the initiative and started hunting through cabinets for what he wanted. “Best way to find out where everything is,” he explained with a cheeky grin.

  “You’re probably right.” Desiree found herself smiling back, even though it was unsettling to see a stranger going through everything as though he had the right.

  He has the right. He’s your husband.

  As she peeled potatoes and put vegetables in a pot on the stove, Desiree realized she had been extraordinarily lucky in her second choice of husband. Carter wasn’t like Burley. He could control his passions. It was too bad he was getting such a bad bargain. She couldn’t be the wife he obviously wanted and needed. She was too bruised in spirit to respond as he wished.

  Desiree had planned this dinner at home because she had feared that conversation between them would be stilted, and it would be embarrassing to sit across from each other in a restaurant in total silence. However, when the three of them sat down together, things didn’t turn out at all as she had expected. Carter, bless him, wasn’t the least bit taciturn. He even condescended to answer several of Nicole’s questions. However, when Nicole finished eating and approached Carter, Desiree realized there were limits to his tolerance.

  “Can I sit on your lap?” Nicole asked.

  “You’re a big girl,” Carter replied.

  “Not too big,” Nicole said, sidling up next to him. “My friend Shirley sits in her daddy’s lap.”

  “I’m not your—”

  Desiree cut him off before he could deny any relationship to her daughter. “Carter has a full stomach right now. Why don’t you go upstairs to your room and play,” she said.

  Nicole gave Carter a look from beneath lowered lashes. “Is your stomach really full?” she demanded suspiciously.

  Desiree saw the war Carter waged, the way his hands fisted. “Nicole! Go play.”

  Nicole’s lower lip stuck out, but she knew better than to argue when her mother used that tone of voice.

  The little girl had already turned to leave when Carter grabbed her under the arms and hefted her into
his lap. “I suppose you can sit here for a minute,” he said grudgingly.

  But Desiree caught the brief, awful look of anguish in Carter’s eyes as his arms closed around the little girl.

  Nicole settled back against Carter’s chest and chattered happily, oblivious to the undercurrents.

  Over the next five minutes, Carter’s face looked more and more strained, and his jaw tightened. Desiree realized there was something very wrong.

  “That’s enough for now, Nicole,” Desiree said. “It’s time for you to go upstairs and choose a book for me to read before your nap.”

  Carter sighed as though relieved of a great burden as he lifted Nicole from his lap and set her on her feet.

  Nicole ran upstairs without a backward glance, leaving them alone at the table. Desiree waited for Carter to explain himself. To her amazement, he pretended as though nothing out of the ordinary had happened.

  “If I’d known how good you can cook, I’d have jumped at that first proposal,” he said.

  Desiree didn’t press the issue. And she chose to accept the compliment, rather than be put off by the fact Carter hadn’t wanted to marry her at first. “Thank you.”

  “Maybe you could give me a tour of the ranch this afternoon,” Carter suggested.

  “Nicole usually takes a nap after lunch. I should be up there getting her settled right now. You’re welcome to take a look on your own.”

  Carter saw the relief in Desiree’s eyes at the thought they wouldn’t have to spend the rest of the day together. He could see she was going to use the child as an excuse to keep them apart. It was funny, because he had planned to use ranch business with her as a way to avoid the child.

  “I can wait until Nicole wakes up. We’ll go then,” he said.

  “She’ll have to come with us.”

  As a chaperon, Carter thought wryly. But the little girl obviously couldn’t be left alone, and there was no one else around to take care of her. One or the other of them would always have to be with her. Which led him to ask, “How on earth have you managed to do the chores around the ranch and take care of Nicole at the same time?”

  “Sometimes it isn’t easy,” Desiree admitted.