by Jackie Anton
Cutter was a man on a mission, and it never occurred to him that she was having difficulty matching the pace he’d set, until she stopped dead in her tracks. He halted his forward progress to inquire about the delay. She was winded, and standing with her hands on her hips.
“Where in the hell is the fire?”
He slowed his stride to match hers, as he had done when she began pacing the halls of the hospital in Amarillo. It wasn’t an imposition then; he had arrived to spend time with her after putting in a full day of physically demanding work on the ranch. Now, the snail’s pace had him about ready to jump out of his own hide.
Once he had the required marriage license in hand, he began to relax enough to enjoy the day and her company. They had a lot to accomplish during the three-day waiting period. Blood tests, physicals, and locate a tux that would fit him on short notice. It was Thursday, and by Monday he planned on being a married man.
Lexie was discussing her strange day and the sprint across Cleveland’s public square with her mom over dinner. Grandma was out with her friends for dinner and a night of fast-paced bingo.
“It was like he was afraid they were going to lock and bolt the doors before we got there. I don’t think he took a relaxed breath until we’d signed our names and paid the fee. He just isn’t used to sitting for hours driving, only to sit some more negotiating deals. Cutter is used to working on the ranch pre-dawn until nightfall. I think it is wearing on him. His sense of humor is fading, and he is growling more and more.”
“His lack of humor and grumpiness wouldn’t have anything to do with you, would it?”
“Some—well, maybe a lot. He wasn’t overly happy about my negotiations before I agreed to marry him.”
“Did he agree to your requests?”
“Three and a half out of four.”
“For God’s sake, Lexie. How do you get a half?”
She explained about the Maria versus Skip compromise while she refilled their teacups, and cut a slice of still-warm apple pie for each of them.
Eve processed the information about the cook at Cutter’s ranch. She wondered why her daughter hadn’t mentioned the woman’s hostility before. Lexie’s reluctance to accept Cutter’s proposal made more sense to her now. Eve reasoned that Lexie must really love him to even consider going back there. Maria would probably be more civil when Lexie returned as Cutter’s wife. Still, she had a feeling that more was going on than her daughter was sharing with her. She knew that her daughter had said all she was going to about her reluctance to return to Texas. “Where’s Cutter having dinner tonight?”
“I think from what he said that he has a business dinner with Mr. Potter tonight. Then he mumbled something about Benson or Booker routing him to a good place to fit him for a tux on short notice. Which means if he is going the tux route, I need to find a wedding dress!”
“Why don’t you do the dishes and clean up while I check with the dress shop where you found the gray dress? I saw a couple of wedding gowns in there that you might like. If they are gone, I’ll call around to see what is available elsewhere. I’ll take a half day tomorrow, and we’ll shop for a gown and have lunch.” Eve was looking forward to the shopping trip and spending some time with Lexie. Maybe she could coax her tight-lipped daughter to share what else was bothering her.
Lexie knew that she’d been played when the shop owner greeted her mother by name. Mom had been in on this from the beginning. She wondered who else Cutter had enlisted to his cause. It was her fault they all thought that the Rocking R was one big happy family. She didn’t see any point in dwelling on the negative. Mel was the only one besides Cutter who had some idea of the animosity she was subjected to that finally sent her packing until she’d spilled the beans to Mom. Booker was the only one who knew about Decker’s sick fixation on her, unless he shared the threats with Mel’s dad. Lexie said a private prayer that she was strong enough to cope with it, and the daily life on the ranch. I’ll probably have ulcers before I am twenty-five.
Sunday, a little over a week since he had shown up on their doorstep, Cutter had dinner with them. Plans were for a limo to pick up Lexie, her Mom and Grandma, and transport them to the Potters’ church for the impromptu wedding ceremony. Then, the limo would take them all to the country club for a quickly organized reception. But Cutter was annoyingly silent about the post-reception plans, and if either of her elders were privileged enough to know, they were mute. He joined her and Skip for their habitual after-dinner walk.
Mel had agreed to be her bridesmaid. Lexie had just found out about the rest of the Potters involvement, and she was a bit uncomfortable about it.
“How did the Potters get so involved with this, Cutter?”
“Your Mom and I were having trouble locating a church on such short notice. The plan was to have a quiet ceremony, and a meal afterward. I happened to mention the problem to Benson, and told him that I guessed we would have to settle for a Justice of the Peace. He said he would check with his pastor, and they came up with the Monday afternoon slot. Your Mom was thrilled with the church idea, so I accepted his offer.”
“You know that is a Lutheran church don’t you?”
“Not really. Does it matter, Lex?”
“Not if it’s okay with you. But it just made me realize how little I really know about you.”
“Are you having second thoughts?”
“God, yes! Second, third, fourth, and on and on. Nerves aside, how did we go from a small dinner to the Potters’ country club?”
“Mel and her mother got together with your Mom, and now we have a reception.”
“It is still just a small gathering, right?”
“At this point, Lex, your guess is as good as mine.”
When she groaned out loud, Skip stopped inspecting a large oak near the entrance to the small park where their wanderings had taken them to determine the cause of her distress. Cutter scooped her into his arms, and they were tangled up again. Skip sat at her feet with his head cocked to one side, trying to figure out this new development.
The arrival of a large family group allowed Lexie to come up for air and try to regain her wits. They walked home hand in hand, and his kiss goodnight left her knees weak. How was she supposed to get any sleep after that? She was going to look like one of the walking dead stumbling down the church aisle tomorrow. Lexie laughed at the mental picture. Everyone was worried she would pull a runaway bride routine, but one look at her zombie-like appearance would more likely send the groom heading for the hills. Maybe she was still hoping for a reprieve? It was too late now. She was about to marry the stranger who had claimed her as his wife in the Amarillo hospital for real.
16
The hairdresser was late! Gram’s and Mom’s coiffures were completed and looked fantastic, but she was just getting started. Lexie decided to have a manicure while she waited to have her hair done. She had intended to take care of that chore last night, but was such a mess after their mind blowing farewell that she couldn’t steady her trembling hands.
It was a squeaker. They had almost enough time to get dressed before the allotted departure time. Lexie was just finishing with a light coat of slightly pink lip stain when her mom came in to announce that the limo had arrived. She stepped into her gown to avoid messing up her makeup or the twists and braids in her upswept hair. Her mother fastened the line of satin buttons that ran from her waist to her high collar. The satin material fit as well as the gray dress had. Her bridal gown also had a high collar, but there the similarities ended. The white satin creation had long sleeves and flared slightly from her waist to fall in soft folds to her satin pumps. She refused to wear a veil. Instead, she had a string of pearls woven into the back of her elegant hairstyle, and wore a single pearl in each ear.
Her hard-won composure slipped when her mom picked up her luggage and garment bag.
“I’ll carry these down, Lexie. Grab your overnight case. We need to go.”
She wouldn’t be coming back here… not toni
ght. Other than to pick up Skip, and the rest of her belongings, she might never be able to return to the home she grew up in.
The limo was a long, white job that drew a lot of attention from some crane-necked neighbors.
Forty minutes later, it pulled into the side drive of the church. Mel and her father met them, and escorted them to the front of the church. An usher Lexie had never seen before winked at her, then informed everyone that they were about ready to begin. Mom opened a large floral box sitting on a long table in the vestibule where stacks of hymnbooks shared the space. From it she pulled a bridal bouquet of orchids and white roses, and a smaller version for Mel to carry.
Mr. Potter escorted Grandma Jane to her seat next to his wife in the front row on the bride’s side of the church. They had no more than gained their seats when the groom and Booker, his best man, entered from a large oak door to the right of where she stood looking down the center aisle of a very modern church. The vestibule where she and the rest of the female half of the bridal party waited was the only part of this structure that even resembled the almost century old church that she frequented on most Sundays. The ceiling soared a good twenty feet or more, and was all wood planks and beams. Tall glass windows dominated the wall space, letting in the light and providing a view of the wooded setting that encompassed the exterior of the house of worship.
Lexie peered down the aisle, at the two tall men taking up their positions to await the bride and her small entourage, and knew a moment of panic. The tunes of the wedding march replaced the hum of human voices, and signaled Mel to lead off the procession. Evelyn Parker waited until Melinda was a third of the way down the aisle before she escorted her daughter to the tall Texan who would whisk her away from them.
Lexie was amazed by how many people were in the church. She didn’t know how this Lutheran outfit did things, but she figured most of the crowd was here for a regularly scheduled service following their wedding. As she moved closer to Cutter, she noticed that Booker was watching their progress as intently as Cutter, but if she wasn’t in church, she would swear that his focus was on her mom. Mel stepped forward to relieve her friend of the bridal bouquet for the duration of the vows. It seemed they were up there in front of the church forever, but on the other hand it flashed by in the blink of an eye. They exchanged rings, and then she heard the pastor pronounce them husband and wife. Cutter kissed her right in front of the whole assembly of onlookers. She wasn’t sure if he held back, or she was just too terrified and numb to feel the usual impact of his kiss.
As they turned to face those assembled, the pastor said it was his pleasure to introduce for the first time Mr. and Mrs. Cutter Ross. “That’s what he thinks!” popped into her head. She glanced to her right at Mel, who must have been thinking along the same lines. They both snickered as she handed back the lovely bouquet. The two old friends were failing miserably at controlling their mirth. Lexie felt Cutter squeeze her left hand, so she looked up at him to see what he wanted. I am going to have a perpetual kink in my neck she thought, as she barely reached his shoulders. He leaned down and whispered. “Behave yourself, Mrs. Ross, or I will exact my revenge later.”
After the photo session, set up by her mother and Mrs. Potter, they finally made it to the country club reception. The rumbling coming from the center of her being was downright embarrassing; her stomach thought she was attempting to starve it, and was making its displeasure audible.
Cutter raised one of his dark brows in surprise—she would love to know how he did that, as she couldn’t raise just one eyebrow no matter how she tried—and he questioned when she had last eaten.
“Not since yesterday. I had a few swallows of tea and snagged a cookie on the way out the door this morning. I sure hope they have plenty of food.”
The catering was magnificent and plentiful, but the meal didn’t appear for nearly an hour after their arrival. However, the champagne flowed like water, and Lexie had a couple of pre-dinner flutes to wash down the cracker and cheese hors d’oeuvres. She passed on the iffy pâté—it looked too much like canned dog food—and she had never liked caviar, so it limited her appetizer selections. She was able to ingest enough to quiet the complaining of her stomach.
It appeared that the groom’s side of the church had been populated with the farmers and landowners that Cutter had brought under the sphere of the Rocking R. He introduced her to everyone, it amazed her that he could remember the names of each child within a half dozen families. The only familiar faces in the agricultural group belonged to the Williams family. She was getting a headache trying to remember who was who. Maybe it was more hunger and the free flowing champagne that was the cause? Whatever. At the first opportunity she extricated herself and went in search of her mother.
“Mom, do you have any ibuprofen, or something else for my head? It’s killing me!”
She was surprised to see Booker conversing with her Mom, and she would swear there was some chemistry afoot. Mel confirmed Lexie’s observation when she found her friend in the ladies’ lounge. After freshening up, Lexie kicked off her shoes and collapsed on an overstuffed armchair.
“God, Mel, I’m exhausted and famished. I don’t know which is throbbing more, my head or my feet. Why are you hiding out in here? Not that it is a bad idea.”
“I just thought I would give your mom and Booker a modicum of privacy.”
“You think there is something going on there?”
“Could be, they kind of hit it off when he was driving our mothers all over creation this past week while they shopped, and planned the wedding. Do you have a problem with Booker and your mom, if something develops between them?”
“Heck, no. I think Booker is great, but Grandma is sure to object. You should have seen the daggers she was throwing at Cutter.”
“I thought she liked Cutter?”
“She did until the morning after the dinner party here. I was bemoaning my hangover, and told Cutter it was the last time I partied and drank for two. Gram picked up on the ‘for two’ and asked me if I was pregnant.”
They were having a good laugh at her expense when Jane O’Rourke walked in, suggesting they end the powder room gabfest and return to their seats. It appeared that the meal was finally being served.
Food! She took two forks full of her salad before Mr. Potter stood up to make a toast. Well, he actually made several toasts. He started off with everyone toasting the bride and groom. He went on to raise his glass to his wife and Lexie’s mom, the pastor for the fabulous ceremony, the caterer, and the band for reworking their schedule. Another flute of bubbly collided with her still restless stomach. The servers topped off all the glasses. She quickly buttered her hard roll; the first bite was like heaven in the shape of a round sesame seed bun, but the next bite went down like lead when Mr. Williams stood up to toast his new business partner and the best little hay bucker he ever had work for him. Another quick forkful of salad and Booker made a toast. Thankfully, he was brief, but before she could return to her salad, it was removed by one of the servers. She snagged her partially eaten roll from her small bread plate, as it too was spirited away.
There must have been some kind of a rule she wasn’t familiar with that stated a bride and groom were not supposed to eat at their own wedding. Every time she would put something in her mouth, some sadist would start clanking silverware on a glass, and the noise grew in volume as more people around the room joined in. It didn’t subside until the obligatory kiss. After a half dozen instances, Lexie identified the Williams boys as the ringleaders. She stood up threw down her napkin, urged Cutter out of his seat by the lapel of his tux and instigated a hot steamy kiss that elicited a lot of hoots and clapping. She turned to face Bill Jr. and this brother Bob.
“Okay, that’s it. The next person that interrupts my meal by putting a piece of silverware to a glass or cup had better be ready to duck one of these crystal rose vases aimed at their head.”
Lexie regained her composure and her seat at her grinning husband�
��s side to the cheers of the women in the assemblage. She imagined that a lot of them had probably been through the same torment. She ate only half of her now cold meal, washing it down with the bottomless glass of champagne.
The rest of the evening went by in a bit of a fog. She danced with her new husband, and a few dozen other people. She threw her bouquet to the single ladies, including her mother and Mel. Eve Parker caught the bridal bouquet, and Jane O’Rourke could be heard lamenting, “Oh Lord, here we go again!” Cutter scorched her leg with his large hands while he peeled off the lacy blue garter before tossing it to the single guys. Bill Williams Jr. snagged that little trophy. He slipped it up his left arm to encircle his bulging bicep. Together, Cutter and she made the first cut of the cake. Lexie remembered eating a small piece and washing it down with a glass of water after Cutter confiscated her never-ending flute. That was her last recollection of her wedding night.
Cutter propped his new wife against wall with his right hand and swiped the key card with his left while the hotel bellman waited patiently with her luggage. Cutter guided her into the hotel suite that had been his temporary digs for the duration of his stay. She was standing on her own reasonably well, so he directed the hotel employee where to deposit the luggage, tipped him, bolted the door, and turned his attention to his bride. She was gone! Then he heard the water running in the bathroom sink, and relaxed. He had removed the tux jacket, his shoes, and was working on the studs of his shirt when she reappeared. A little wobbly still, she gave him a sheepish grin as she approached him.
“Cutter, would you help me? I can’t seem to get out of this thing.”
