The New England: ROMANCE Collection

by Susan Page Davis, Darlene Franklin, Pamela Griffin, Lisa Harris

  Clemmie gave her friend a sharp look. Hannah knew she hadn’t.

  “I hear they took the bandages off. Sheridan told me when I ran into her the other day. I figured you must know and just forgot to mention it?”

  The query sounded strange, even to Clemmie’s ears, since most of her days had been filled with Joel and keeping Hannah informed of almost every detail. Forgetting to mention such a huge milestone would be absurd.

  “Yes, I know. I rang the hospital and learned the news from that nice nurse who let me see him after his surgery.” She tried to look busy as she gathered the glossies and tapped them on her lap to straighten them. “He can see again. Isn’t it wonderful?”

  Hannah’s hand rested over hers, stopping her agitated movements. Carefully she slipped the pictures from Clemmie’s hands. “And you didn’t think to tell me this amazing news?”

  “I’ve had a lot on my mind, what with packing and such. I assumed you would hear from your mother. She mentioned she’s gone to visit him. Your father, too.”

  Hannah shook her head at Clemmie’s weak answer. “But you haven’t gone to see him again, have you? Not since that day you came home from the hospital looking for all the world as if your best friend had just died.”

  “No. I haven’t.”

  “Why?” Hannah insisted. “Did you two have a quarrel?”

  “Nothing like that. Life doesn’t always make sense, Hannah. That’s something you’ll learn one day.” Seeing that her friend wouldn’t give up, Clemmie sought a more complete explanation. “I just felt it was time he took charge of his life without my help, now that he’s past the surgery.”

  “So you’ve said before—and it still doesn’t make one bit of sense! He was everything to you, and now you’re pushing him aside?”

  Clemmie shrugged.

  Hannah exhaled loudly. “I’m not a child, Clemmie. I know life doesn’t always play fair, though I haven’t had much to complain about. But, well, you are going to tell him good-bye before you go home, aren’t you?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe.”

  “Maybe?” Hannah threw the pictures back into the box, a sign of just how frustrated she was. “If it weren’t for you, he would never have had that surgery in the first place. He’d still be living alone in his box.”

  “He still is. Though he’s been trying to find a place.” She clamped her lips shut, realizing her slip.

  “So you have been keeping tabs on him!”

  “Of course. I can’t just forget him. I still talk to Thea on occasion.”

  “Then why …?”

  Clemmie rose from Hannah’s bed, where they’d been poring over photos for the umpteenth time since her arrival in Connecticut. “I don’t want to talk about this right now—please. I think I’ll take a walk by the pond. I need some fresh air.”

  “I’ll come with you.” Hannah was already putting the lid on her box and sliding off the bed.

  “No, please. I—I just need time alone to think.” She smiled. “Don’t worry. I’ll be back in time for supper.”

  Hannah nodded, clearly concerned, but Clemmie couldn’t talk about Joel. She knew her friend was right: She couldn’t leave without telling him good-bye. But she dreaded finding Sheridan there and didn’t think she could handle seeing them together. No, she had to do it. She simply must stop behaving like a wounded pup licking her wounds and face him again. She wasn’t a child; it was time to stop behaving like one. Yes, she hurt. But she had to learn to face her pain head-on and not hide from it. Isn’t that what she’d told Joel for months?

  The air was brisk, invigorating from the coming autumn. She took deep breaths as she strolled along the beautiful grounds to the gardens and beyond, to the tranquil pond sheltered among towering trees whose foliage had begun to blaze with color. Strangely, though the area didn’t look the same, it reminded her of her spot at the lake with Joel and the ease they’d shared with one another there.

  She felt grateful God had used her, even her mistake, to help Joel, and that their friendship had strengthened beyond what it ever was. But she couldn’t help the tears that trickled past her lashes as she wished for something that would never be.

  How long she stood there, she didn’t know, but she had the oddest sensation of being watched. A prickle danced along her neck down to her spine. She wiped her eyes with her sleeve then looked over her shoulder.

  And froze.

  Joel stood not ten feet away.

  Weeks after his surgery Joel wondered and worried when Clemmie never showed up to visit again. He asked Herbert and Thea, but they had no idea why she stayed away. He had phoned Hannah’s, but the butler always stated that Miss Lyons wasn’t home. It wasn’t like Clemmie to disappear from his life when she had forced her way into it more than three months before. He was sure she would be there when the doctor removed the bandages and share with him either the pain of failure or the triumph of sight. The doctor had waited as long as he could until he told Joel he had other patients and could wait no longer. Joel reluctantly agreed. Sheridan had come, and he’d been grateful for her company, but he’d wanted Clemmie there since she’d been a huge support to him and the reason he’d made the leap to pursue the operation.

  Upon opening his eyes once the doctor removed the final bandage, Joel had at first been blinded by the doctor’s flashlight, though the room had been darkened. After more than a year of empty black and dark gray, colors had come back to his world—colors and shapes—a world he remembered and now appreciated all the more for having lost it.

  But nothing prepared him for his first sight of Clemmie as a woman.

  The sun’s rays slanted through the trees and reflected off her hair—a lively mix of light reds and golds that almost touched her shoulders in a wavy fashion of the day. Her eyes were the most fascinating shade of dusky green with the sun bringing out yellow flecks, obvious even at this distance, her brows gently sloping in light brown arcs. Her face appeared as smooth and fair as porcelain. Her lips were wide, full, perfect, and her cheeks rosy—whether natural or from her walk or embarrassment at finding him there, he couldn’t guess. Full-figured like her mother—not slender, not plump—she wore a simple brown skirt and creamy white blouse that outlined every curve of her, and she used none of the cosmetics that so many women seemed to feel necessary.

  Joel stood thunderstruck. She wasn’t plain, as she’d led him to believe. Nor did she have Sheridan’s fair, classic beauty. Clemmie was so much more than common or a carbon copy of others who tried to emulate the movie starlets of the day. In her simplicity and with her unique coloring, she was magnificent!

  As long as he lived, he knew he would never forget this moment….

  “Joel?” She licked her lower lip nervously. “I—I didn’t expect you. Is something the matter?”

  His eyes on her mouth, he answered her. “I could ask you the same thing.” He lifted his gaze to hers. “Why did you stop visiting me?”

  She pressed a pale hand to her heart. “I–I’m sorry. And I’m so glad you got your sight back.”

  “Are you?”

  “Of course! You really need to ask such a silly question?”

  He moved closer and noticed a light sprinkling of adorable freckles dotting her nose and cheeks. “Why weren’t you there?”

  “What?”

  He noticed how her chest rose and fell sharply, could see the pulse that beat in the hollow of her creamy throat and the manner in which her natural, pale rose–colored lips parted in uncertainty. He could feast his eyes upon the vision of her all day.

  “You heard me. Why weren’t you there when the bandages came off?”

  “Oh.” She lifted her chin a little as if bolstering herself. “I knew Sheridan would be there for you.”

  He closed the remaining distance between them. “I wanted you.”

  She inhaled a shaky breath, her incredible eyes flickering wider. “I–I’m sorry.” She took a sudden step back, clearly flustered. “How’s your girlfriend these days
?”

  He drew his brows together at her odd choice of words. “My girlfriend?”

  “Sheridan,” she clarified as if he should know it.

  “Sheridan’s not my girlfriend.”

  “Of course she is! I saw her kiss you—”

  He watched as the flush on her face spread, extending down the slim column of her neck, and her green-gold eyes flared wider. This close, he could see the curly spikes of each fringe of her soft brown lashes. Wet lashes. She’d been crying.

  “Sheridan’s not my girlfriend,” he repeated. “And I don’t want her to be.”

  “But I heard you!”

  “Heard me?”

  Her skin took on a deeper shade of rose, and she bit the lip she had moistened again. “At the hospital. Y–you asked her never to leave you. Told her that you’d been wrong about not admitting something and … and that you wanted her with you forever. I heard you….” Her voice trailed off weakly as he opened his eyes wider in understanding.

  “Clemmie, I thought Sheridan was you.”

  “What? That’s impossible. We sound nothing alike.”

  “The drugs they gave me confused me, making voices hard to understand. Remember how sometimes I called you Sheridan? I did the same with her and called her Clemmie.”

  “I …”

  She stood, her mouth open wide, her eyes dazed.

  He moved forward, closing the distance between them, and took her hands in his. “I wasn’t going to speak up, not until I had a chance to talk with your father, not until you turned eighteen, not until I understood the distance you’d put between us. Now that I know, I can’t wait any longer. There’s no girlfriend, Clemmie. Do you understand?”

  Dully, she nodded.

  “But there is this girl who nagged me and tormented me and wouldn’t let me concede to failure. Who helped me face my fears and put my past behind me so I could dream again. And it’s this girl, this amazing woman, I want to call my wife. I held back saying anything because my life was so uncertain, especially with the prospect of death hanging over my head. But now there’s no reason to hold back.”

  Motionless, she stared as if turned to a porcelain doll. She didn’t even blink.

  “Clemmie … do you understand what I’m saying?” He dropped to one knee and felt her hands tremble in his. “I love you. Only you. I have for some time, but I was too stubborn to admit it. Now I do.” His eyes searched her face for some sign, some encouragement, and he blindly struck forward. “Clementine Lyons, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife? I don’t want to live another day in this world without you.”

  She blinked, hard and repeatedly, her breaths coming fast. All the rose color that had suffused her face drained away, leaving it almost stark white. Worried about her reaction and thinking he would need to catch her if she should suddenly collapse, he jumped to his feet. “Is this too soon—”

  “You want to marry me? Me? … You love me?” she whispered in disbelief, such a look of utter astonishment crossing her features that Joel couldn’t help himself. He cradled her face in his hands and kissed her, taking pleasure in tasting her lips after so long denying himself the satisfaction and learning their soft, warm texture again. When he pulled away, they were both breathless.

  “Are you convinced yet?”

  She gave a sobbing little laugh. He felt entranced by her smile, which lit up her face. Her eyes, already beautiful, shone with happiness, like jewels. “I’m not sure.” Her voice came a little stronger, an intriguing mix of teasing and shyness. “It takes awhile to get facts straight in my head sometimes. I might need more convincing?”

  With a low chuckle at her hopeful suggestion, Joel gladly accepted the challenge.

  Chapter 19

  Pinch me.”

  With a mischievous grin, Hannah obeyed.

  “Ow.” Clemmie laughed. “Not so hard. You don’t want to bruise me, do you?”

  “You wanted to make certain you’re awake, right?”

  Clemmie smiled. She hadn’t been able to stop smiling all morning. “Oh, Hannah, is it true? Am I getting the dream I always wished for?”

  “To have me for your maid of honor?” Hannah teased. “Or to wear such a pretty dress and have so many people fawning over you?”

  Darcy, who’d just finished pinning up Clemmie’s hair, snorted out a laugh.

  “To marry Joel, silly,” Clemmie replied, rolling her eyes heavenward.

  “Oh, then yes, I’d have to say you’re getting your dream. And you do look gorgeous in that dress.”

  “Don’t I look go-geous in my dress?” Clemmie’s eight-year-old sister, Belle, demanded, twirling so the satin folds billowed out.

  “You’d look a mite prettier if you didn’t still have traces of that black eye,” her mother reproved.

  “Can’t help it, Mama. Quentin started it. He’s so dumb.”

  “Reminds you of Clint and Miranda, doesn’t it?” Clemmie’s mother asked Darcy.

  “Those two were at each other’s throats night and day as children. Now they’re married with two children of their own!”

  “Eww!” Belle wrinkled her nose. “I’m never gonna marry, not in a million jillion years. And I’d never marry him!”

  “Oh dear. That sounds like what Miranda used to say about Clint when she was your age.”

  “Better take good care of that wedding dress of your mother’s, Clemmie,” Darcy teased. “Your sister might be needing it soon.”

  “Perish the thought,” Clemmie’s mother said with a laugh. “I’m losing one daughter today. Don’t go and marry off my baby years before her time.”

  “You’re not losing me, Mama. We’ll visit every holiday. More, if Joel’s job at the paper allows it.”

  “Or you could both move back to the Refuge,” her mother said hopefully. “Plenty of room there. And I’m sure we can find something for Joel to do.”

  Across the room, Angel laughed, and Clemmie turned her attention to another of her dearest friends.

  “Better elope with Joel while you can,” Angel teased. “Before your mother takes it into her head to pack you both up in her trunk and take you back home to live.”

  “Now there’s an idea,” Darcy teased as if she were serious.

  Clemmie smiled at their banter, thankful for her family and friends, even if they were a bit absurd at times. In her pale lilac bridesmaid’s dress, Angel looked splendid. They all did. Thea, advanced with child, hadn’t been able to be a bridesmaid, but Angel, who was only four months into her second pregnancy and bloomed like a flower, had yet to show. Clemmie had defied convention to have her married friend in her wedding party, thrilled to be with her again. Roland and Angel had come from their home, thirty minutes away by train, while Angel’s mother, Lila, never fond of crowds after the horrors of living in a circus freak show, stayed home with little Everett.

  Many from the Refuge had arrived at the home of Hannah’s uncle. Although he hadn’t expected them, old boyhood chums of Joel’s, now married and moved on, made an appearance: Tommy, Lance, and the childhood rivals Clint and Miranda. Not only were Clint and Miranda parents, but Miranda had also achieved her dream of becoming a teacher.

  Clemmie’s heart felt near to bursting with joy. She’d heard other women sometimes suffered from pre-wedding jitters. But Clemmie had known what she wanted since she was a young girl: Joel. The only emotion she felt besides delirium was eagerness to begin the ceremony that would transform her dream into reality.

  “You look lovely.” Her mother moved forward, attaching her filmy veil and adjusting it. With teary eyes, she examined every inch of Clemmie’s appearance, smiling with approval.

  “I’m so happy for you, dear. Joel may have been a rapscallion as a lad, but he’s turned into a fine man.”

  “The best, Mama.”

  “Are you ready? We should be leaving for the church.”

  “I think I’ve been ready for Joel all my life.”

  Her mother laughed. “Well then, let’s go a
nd make you his bride.”

  “Nervous, old man?” Herbert stood beside Joel, checking his image in the mirror.

  Joel wrenched the confounded drooping tie from his neck. Normal ties were bad enough. With a bow tie he might as well be all thumbs. “I’m managing.”

  “I can tell. You’re shaking so bad it’s a wonder I don’t hear your knees knocking together.”

  “You’re supposed to be my best man,” Joel groused. “Not my worst.”

  “Mind if I barge in?”

  “Mr. Lyons.” Joel’s nervousness peaked. “Sir …”

  “Now, Joel, none of that. I told you, you’re to call me Dad.” Stewart Lyons walked into the room, as impressive as ever, his height and build rivaling any young man’s. His hair had turned almost all silver, and Joel reckoned he was responsible for a number of them.

  “Having trouble, I see. I always did hate those things. Mind if I take a go at it?”

  Joel shook his head. “No, sir. Dad.” He swallowed hard.

  “Sir Dad—now that would make for an interesting byline,” Herbert observed in amusement. “Picture it: Sir Dad gives Fair Daughter away to Black Knight.”

  “One more crack and I’m booting you out the door,” Joel darkly replied.

  Mr. Lyons chuckled as he took the ends of the offending tie and expertly twisted and turned the material until he’d achieved a perfect bow. “You boys still have trouble getting along?”

  “Not all the time, sir—Dad.”

  Herbert snorted.

  Joel didn’t mind Herbert’s ribbing as much as he pretended. It took his mind off the upcoming minutes, which were advancing like a herd of wild cattle. He loved Clemmie, didn’t doubt that. And he wanted her as his wife. It was this ceremony, which had grown from the intended private nuptials to a gigantic circus, courtesy of Clemmie’s wealthy grandfather and Hannah’s just as wealthy uncle, who’d offered his full staff and banquet hall for the reception. Clemmie had been in her element during the past two months of planning, thrilled with the prospect of the whole elaborate shindig, so for his bride, Joel would bear it. Strange that he used to always enjoy being the center of attention and now wanted to run from it. He assumed more than a year of being a hermit had caused the change.