Just Married

by Debbie Macomber

  He headed for the door. “You might have spelled that out earlier and saved us both a lot of trouble.”

  Because she had no way of contacting Zane, Lesley was forced to wait until the morning of the wedding. After a sleepless night, she arrived at his home before eight.

  From the smells drifting out from the kitchen, it was obvious that Mrs. Applegate had been cooking since the wee hours of the morning. Zane’s housekeeper had insisted upon supplying everything for the reception herself, including the wedding cake.

  “You aren’t due here for hours yet,” Mrs. Applegate chided, wearing a wide, happy grin.

  “I need to see Zane.”

  The housekeeper’s eyes widened with shock. “You can’t do that. Don’t you know it’s bad luck for the groom to see the bride on the wedding day? One shouldn’t take this sort of timeless advice lightly.”

  “Mrs. Applegate, please, it’s important.”

  The older woman was clearly perplexed. “He isn’t here,” she announced stiffly in what Lesley was convinced was a lie.

  “Then I’ll find him myself.”

  “You can’t, dearie, you just can’t,” Mrs. Applegate insisted, blocking the doorway.

  Lesley hadn’t thought she’d have trouble getting past the housekeeper. If the situation wasn’t so ludicrous, she’d laugh.

  With little effort, she was able to sidestep the older woman. No sooner had she stepped into the entry hall than Zane appeared at the top of the stairs.

  “Lesley.” He sounded pleased to see her.

  “I tried to stop her,” Mrs. Applegate called up to him. “You and I both know it’s bad luck to talk to the bride before the wedding.”

  “Lesley, what’s wrong?” His eyes delved into hers as he ignored his housekeeper.

  “I…I need to talk to you.” The sooner she told him of her decision, the sooner they could contact the guests.

  “Come into the library.” He then directed his attention to Mrs. Applegate. “Could you bring us coffee? It looks like we could both use a cup.”

  “Of course.” The housekeeper returned to the kitchen, looking none-too-pleased with either one.

  Lesley walked over to the fireplace and placed her hand against the mantel. Her heart was racing. “You didn’t tell me,” she said.

  “Didn’t tell you what?”

  “That you were a mercenary.”

  Her words were met with silence. “We both have our secrets.”

  “That’s not true,” she cried.

  He arched his brows. “You never mentioned that you were once almost engaged to Jordan Larabee either.”

  Chapter Eight

  “THAT’S DIFFERENT,” LESLEY INSISTED. “Jordan wasn’t in love with me…and I wasn’t…didn’t think…we never…” She tried to explain, but her tongue kept getting in the way. Abruptly snapping her mouth closed, she glared at him. “How long have you known about Jordan and me?”

  “Two days.” He spoke casually, as though it were of little importance to him. As if she were overreacting to the news he’d been a soldier for hire. “It wouldn’t have mattered, Lesley. There was no reason to keep it from me.”

  She felt the heat crawl up her neck. The entire time she’d dated Jordan, Lesley had been uncomfortably aware that he remained officially married. While it was true he and Molly were separated and had been for years, nevertheless, Lesley had been uneasy. Again and again Jordan had assured her there was no chance of a reconciliation Lesley had wanted to believe that and so she’d overruled her objections.

  “We each have a past,” Zane reminded her gently. “I’m fairly confident that over the years we’ve both said and done things we regret. As far as I’m concerned, that’s where all this belongs. In the past.”

  “But…” He made sense; her fear was that she so badly wanted to marry Zane, she was tempted to overlook everything else. The same way she’d tried to ignore the fact Jordan was still married while they dated.

  “What you learned about me is true,” he said evenly. “I was once a paid soldier, but I’ve made a new life for myself now, here in Sleepy Valley.”

  With his injuries it would be impossible for him to return to the field, she reminded herself. Those days were behind him, and he was looking to her for his future. Just as she counted on him for her own.

  “I can’t force you to marry me—that decision is yours. But if you want to call off the wedding, then you’ll need to make up your mind soon.” He glanced at his watch. “By my estimate, our guests will be arriving in less than four hours. What’s it to be, Lesley?”

  It didn’t pass her notice that he didn’t offer her any inducements. He didn’t attempt to sway her with pretty words. Not once had he claimed to love her. He offered his life without promises, without guarantees. It was a take-it-or-leave-it affair. For all the emotion he revealed, her decision mattered little to him.

  “What’s it to be?” he repeated.

  Zane had always been fair with her. He could have lied any number of times, and hadn’t. She respected and admired him. As he claimed, the past was over and done. Nothing would change that. So he hadn’t lived the life of a saint. Neither had she. Some of her mistakes had been glaring.

  He held himself stiffly away from her as he waited for her reply. Lesley raised her head until their eyes met. He held her look for several moments, but she was able to read nothing.

  “We’re both crazy,” she whispered. Enough people had told her that for Lesley to start believing it.

  “Agreed,” he said smoothly.

  She briefly closed her eyes and prayed she was making the right decision. “I think you’ll make me a good husband, Zane Ackerman.”

  For the first time that morning he smiled. “I certainly intend to try.”

  The wedding took place at noon. Zane stood at Lesley’s side at the viewpoint that overlooked Lake Michigan. He felt his grandmother would have approved.

  The sun shone gloriously, and the sky was clear blue and bright. A happy omen, he’d like to think, but he wasn’t foolish enough to believe there weren’t plenty of clouds on the horizon, plenty of storms ahead for Lesley and him.

  He had played it cool with her that morning, and his gamble had paid off. He’d gone so far as to tell her that her relationship with Jordan didn’t bother him, but even as he said the words, he realized it was a lie.

  The little green monster was an alien emotion to Zane. It had taken him the better part of two days to identify the emotion. As soon as he learned that Jordan and Lesley had once been involved, he realized that his longtime friend was the reason Lesley hadn’t married.

  She’d claimed otherwise, but it didn’t add up. When Molly came back into Jordan’s life, Lesley nobly stepped aside, but she carried her heart on her sleeve as far as the other man was concerned. It all made a crazy kind of sense.

  As he’d claimed earlier, they’d both made their mistakes. He couldn’t criticize Lesley for entering into this marriage with her own agenda. He had one himself.

  Zane repeated his vows in a deep, strong voice, harboring no qualms. No second thoughts. No fears. He pledged his heart and his life to her without reservation. When he finished, he discovered her staring up at him and offered her a reassuring smile.

  Lesley repeated her own vows in a clear, smooth voice, her gaze held by Zane’s.

  When Zane slipped the solitary diamond on her finger, his heart swelled with fierce pride. She was his wife now, and there was no turning back for either of them. That was just the way Zane wanted it.

  Following the reception, under a barrage of rice and well wishes, Lesley and Zane hurried to his car. He drove them to a secluded cabin deep in the woods for a four-day honeymoon. It was unfortunate, but Lesley couldn’t take more time from her work. If she’d had time to properly plan the wedding, she could have asked for vacation time, but Zane had been unwilling to postpone the wedding even one month. She never had understood his rush.

  “The cabin is lovely, she said, standing
next to her suitcase in the middle of the large open room. The two-story log structure belonged to a friend of Zane’s.

  Huge picture windows overlooked the meadow below where a field of wildflowers exploded with vivid color. The fireplace dominated another wall, and a thick imitation bearskin rug was spread across the polished hardwood floor.

  “Are you hungry?” Zane asked, after delivering their luggage to the bedroom.

  Lesley shook her head, although she’d barely eaten all day. All at once, she realized she was nervous.

  “It looks like we might be in for a storm,” Zane commented, walking over to the window and glancing at the sky.

  “A storm?” That seemed impossible when only hours earlier there hadn’t been a cloud in sight.

  “I’m partial to storms myself,” her husband admitted, staring at the darkening sky. His hands were clenched behind his back.

  Lesley remained where she was. A number of times she’d considered the physical aspect of their relationship, but with everything so hectic before the wedding, they’d never discussed it. She wished now that they had; it might have helped diminish her nervousness.

  “You like the rain?” she asked.

  Zane looked over his shoulder, grinning at her sheepishly. “How soon you forget.”

  Lesley blushed. She had forgotten. The first time he’d kissed her had been the night of the storm when she’d gone out to the barn with him to settle the horses. Later, as the thunder had boomed overhead and the lightning blazed across the heavens, she’d made her way downstairs and found him in the library.

  “I wanted to make love to you that night,” Zane admitted in words so low, she had to strain to hear him. “I’ve haven’t stopped wanting you.” Slowly he turned to face her.

  Lesley moistened her lips.

  “I’m not a handsome man.”

  She wanted to contradict him, but couldn’t find the strength to do so. Never had she desired a man as much as she did Zane right that moment.

  “My body is less than perfect.” He kept his hands behind his back, and his eyes steadfastly held hers.

  Lesley’s breathing went shallow, as she started unfastening the buttons to her silk suit. Her movements seemed to mesmerize him into speechlessness. She removed her jacket and blouse, then paused long enough to fold and neatly set them aside.

  “Lesley?” Again his voice was a fragile thread of sound.

  “I certainly hope you aren’t about to suggest we delay making love,” she said, and reached behind her to fiddle with the skirt zipper. The zipper rasped open in the tense silence that followed.

  Zane didn’t answer her question and she glanced up, waiting. He stood frozen in place. It looked almost as if he’d stopped breathing.

  Lesley stepped out of her skirt and neatly placed it on the chair with the blouse and jacket. She stood half a room away, wearing her tap pants and bra.

  Zane didn’t move. Although the room had darkened with the approach of the storm, he couldn’t conceal the effect she had on him. He made no move toward her, but a wild look filled his eyes. His feet were braced apart and his arms remained behind him. His breathing swelled his chest and he seemed to be taking in deeper and deeper breaths and holding them longer and longer. Although he didn’t move, didn’t speak, she could feel the tension in his body.

  “Do you still want me, Zane?” she asked. The role of the temptress was new to her, but she found she enjoyed it.

  His eyes drifted shut, and she didn’t know why he was fighting her so hard. His Adam’s apple moved up and down in his throat.

  Mumbling something she couldn’t understand, he started to undress. His hands were quick, the action jerky and disconnected in his rush.

  “Yes, I want you.” He couldn’t remove his shirt fast enough to suit him. He wadded it up and carelessly tossed it aside. His stomach was flat, smooth and hard, and while she would have taken pleasure appreciating it more, he squatted down to take off his shoes. He unbuckled his belt next, and slipped his pants over his lean hips, revealing the extent of the injuries to his leg.

  The scars that mangled his flesh caused her to draw in a deep breath. How he must have suffered. At her soft gasp, Zane glanced her way but didn’t hesitate as he stepped out of his pants.

  “I told you what to expect.” He offered neither apology or explanation. He glanced toward the loft where the master bedroom was situated and to the stairway leading to it.

  “Not there,” she whispered.

  His questioning eyes returned to her.

  “Here.” She sat on the rug in front of the fireplace and enjoyed the soft feel of the rug against her skin. It didn’t take him long to ease down beside her.

  He leaned forward and kissed her with infinite care. The kiss was long and slow and deep. As he pressed his rough palm against the smooth skin of her abdomen, he claimed another deep kiss. She panted while he stroked her soft flesh, his calloused hands arousing her to a fever pitch.

  “Zane.” She broke off the kiss and tossed her head from side to side pleaded for what they both sought. “Please…I need you so much.”

  Zane groaned and became one with his wife. Afterward he held her close, his breathing harsh and heavy. Lesley wrapped her arms around him, buried her face in his neck and silently wept. He’d given her only pleasure, but the beauty of what they’d shared demanded an emotional release, and that came in the form of tears.

  “Lesley?” He gently stroked the hair away from her face.

  She shook her head, not wanting to answer him.

  “I hurt you?”

  “No…nothing like that.”

  He reversed their positions so that she was above him. He continued to smooth her hair as he held her close.

  “Will it always be this good?” she whispered when she could.

  Zane kissed the top of her head and slowly exhaled a deep breath. “I sincerely hope not.”

  Confused, Lesley raised her head to look at him and saw that he was smiling.

  “A man could die from this much pleasure.”

  Lesley laughed and closed her eyes. That being the case, they both just might be dead before the end of the week.

  Carl was not a happy man. Zane was married, which was shocking enough, and now Candy was looking to slip a ring through his nose. Well, he had news for her. Zane might have taken leave of his senses, but not so with Carl. He’d as soon leap off a bridge as take a wife.

  Every time he thought about how Candy had led him down a merry path, it irked him. He should have known better than to trust a woman. She’d been plotting against him from the first, and he’d been to blind to recognize what she was doing and had fallen for it.

  Carl walked into the kitchen and vented his frustration by slamming the door.

  “When are Zane and Lesley due back?” he asked Mrs. Applegate.

  “Monday,” the cook said, ladling soup into a bowl. “Sit down. Lunch is ready.”

  “What kind of soup is that?”

  “Chicken noodle.”

  He hadn’t had much of an appetite lately. “I think I’ll skip lunch.”

  She emptied the bowl back into the pot. “Suit yourself. I don’t know what burr’s under your saddle, young man, but I suggest you take care of it.”

  Carl glared at the older woman. Even the kindly housekeeper had been in a surly mood of late. It used to be that they’d laugh and joke. No longer.

  “You’ve been snapping everyone’s head off for the last week. What’s the matter with you?” she demanded. “I swear you’d complain if they hung you with a new rope.”

  Carl growled a response and slammed the door on his way out, just as he had on his way into the kitchen.

  He hated to admit it, but the old woman was right. Dang it all—he was angry. Most of his irritation was directed at Candy, but he wasn’t feeling kindly toward Zane, either.

  Married. Zane. It didn’t add up.

  Frankly, Carl was worried, but what Zane did with his life was his own business. Ca
rl knew his friend wouldn’t take kindly to any advice or interference.

  Carl was willing to admit that his mood had deteriorated in the past week without Candy. He hoped that she missed him enough to come to her senses. In thinking back over their last conversation, he realized that he’d been vague about what he intended to offer her. He’d be a generous lover and it was only fair that she know that.

  She’d had a week to realize the error of her ways. He refused to allow a woman to manipulate him and she’d best learn that right now. But on the other hand, it was only fair that he give her an opportunity to apologize.

  It felt as though a weight had been lifted from his shoulders as Carl climbed into his truck. He’d bet a year’s pay that Candy had been miserable without him. More than likely she’d be grateful he gave her the opportunity to set matters right.

  He whistled as he drove into town and parked in front of the feed store. Not wanting to appear obvious, he’d gone to the trouble of making up a list of several items he needed. None of them were essential, but she didn’t know that.

  Carl spied Candy the minute he walked into the store. Her gaze zeroed in on him, as well. Oh my, but she was a sight for sore eyes. Pretty as he remembered. More so, he decided. Generally she wore jeans and a shirt to work—not so this day. She had on a Western-style blouse and an ankle-length denim skirt with a lace-fringed petticoat that was three or so inches longer than the skirt. Just seeing her again, the ache inside him intensified tenfold.

  “Good afternoon, Carl,” she said, leaving Slim to deal with the one other customer in the store.

  He was right, she’d missed him! To show her what a forgiving kind of guy he was, he returned her smile full measure. His heart gave a happy lurch.

  “What can I do for you?”

  He’d almost forgotten about his list. He reached inside his shirt pocket and handed it to her.

  She took it and briefly scanned the contents. “You picked up worming medication the last time you were in. Are you sure you need it again?”

  “Throw it in anyway.” He knew what he did and didn’t have in stock.