Happy Is The Bride

by Caroline Clemmons

  Her breath hitched, and she struggled to keep her eyes averted for fear he might read her mind. Her mother said a lady never had thoughts of the flesh, yet Beth couldn't stop dwelling on it. Would he be scandalized? Right now she wondered how his lips tasted.

  Mason guided her under the back edge of the building between two of the stone columns and pulled her into his arms. "Forgive me, Beth, I can't wait for this any longer."

  Strawberry jam.

  He tasted sweet as the jam she'd given him last week. She melted against him, and he deepened the kiss. His tongue traced the line of her lips, and she opened to his invasion. She gasped, but his tongue probed against hers and created a pool of warmth low in her abdomen. Her knees threatened to give way, and she clung to him.

  Surprised at the giddiness his action evoked, she soon matched his thrusts with her own tongue. Dear heaven, the thoughts that aroused. A pulsing, aching heat built in her private place. Much more of this and she'd burst into flame.

  One of his hands caressed her breast, and new tingles shot through her. He broke contact with her lips to murmur between kisses to her neck, "I can hardly wait to view these beauties tonight."

  She looked up at him. "V-view them?" She whispered, "You mean see, um, see me without clothes on?"

  He smiled. "Yes, that's what I mean. Not a stitch on either one of us, just like God made us."

  "Is that proper?" Panic seized her. Right now she wanted to give Adam back his rib.

  But then Mason moved his hand across her nipple, those tingles changed to jolts of pleasure, and she reconsidered. Maybe this man-woman thing wouldn't be too bad, in spite of what her mother said.

  Mason's other hand cupped her bottom and tucked her into him. She sensed a hard bulge pressing against her as he resumed their kiss. It must be his man thing, and she worried at the size of it. How could that fit inside her?

  Breathless, she broke the kiss. He pulled her to him and cradled her head against his chest. She slid her arms around his waist and savored his embrace. In spite of her worries about tonight, in his arms she knew peace.

  He kissed her temple. "Can't tell you how much I've needed this. I've dreamed of us alone in our own home tonight."

  That's when they'd come together. But Mason wouldn't do anything to hurt her. She trusted him.

  "I look forward to it, too. We make a fine couple, and we'll have a good life together." She raised her head and asked the question that had worried her since she'd proposed to him.

  "Mason, you're not sorry you said yes, are you?" She knew he'd never go back on a promise, but it worried her that he might regret that he'd agreed to wed her.

  He brushed his lips against hers in a soft, sweet kiss. "I'm only sorry we've wasted years when we should have been together. We belong with one another."

  "I'm relieved you feel that way." She sighed and nuzzled into him. "In spite of all the talk, I'm feeling very lucky right now."

  "Not nearly as lucky as me. I've wanted this as long as I can remember."

  Thunderstruck, she looked up at him. He wanted her? "Mason, you never said. Why didn't you tell me long ago?"

  "I couldn't. You were so all-fired set on pleasing your folks by going to that fancy school up north. Then when you came back, well, I thought you were too fine a lady for the likes of me."

  Did Mason think her a snob? The suggestion created a ball of worry hi her. "How could you think such a thing? If—if I gave you that idea from anything I said or did, then I apologize. There's no finer man anywhere than you, Mason."

  He pulled her back to his chest, and she heard him exhale, a great whoosh of breath, as if he'd been holding in the air. "I thought you deserved a whole man, someone not hampered by a limp."

  She pushed away from him with her hands rested on his chest. "Mason Whittaker, don't ever let me hear you say another word against yourself. I'm real sorry about your leg because I know it pains you, but that doesn't make you less of a man. In fact, you've achieved success in spite of being slowed by it, so that makes you twice the man of anyone else I know."

  He pushed a stray curl from her face. "You always championed me. Guess that's one reason why I love you."

  He loved her.

  She didn't know what to say. Mason Whittaker actually said he loved her. She should answer him. But how? Instead, she clung to him, pressed herself against him, and held on. Dear Lord, and she'd asked him to marry her because of a bet. She should tell him, confess right now. But she knew his temper and his hard-shelled pride. If he found out, that pride of his would drive him away. She couldn't bear another cancelled wedding. More, she couldn't bear losing Mason as her best friend and their future together.

  Now she was forced to face the question of whether she loved Mason as a man or just as a friend? She hadn't considered that. She'd been so determined to show her cousin Rachel and stop the laughter and humiliation that she hadn't stopped to consider the consequences for Mason.

  How selfish she'd been. The knowledge made her ashamed of her hasty proposal. Then she remembered that when she decided to find her own groom, she hadn't considered anyone but Mason.

  Did she love him?

  Mrs. Pendleton's shrill voice saved Beth from answering Mason.

  "Bethaneeeeee. Where are you?"

  "Oh, no, we'd better go around by the wagons. Mother sounds upset with me." She loathed breaking contact with him, but stepped away. "Soon I'll be out of yelling distance, even for her." She laughed, wishing it were funny instead of sad.

  Nothing she did would ever please her mother. Heaven knew she'd tried for twenty-eight years. She couldn't remember one time when her mother had a kind word for her, not even one.

  Mason grabbed her hand. "Knowing my temper, I can't promise I'll never yell at you, but I give you my word I'll try not to."

  "You haven't yelled at me yet And I'll try hard to be the best wife in the world, the kind you deserve."

  Mason loved her.

  Why hadn't she seen that? He'd always been so thoughtful of her every wish, listened to her secrets, took up for her against anyone who said hurtful things to her.

  "One more." He swept her to him in a fervent embrace.

  Beth slid her arms around his neck. Who would have dreamed kissing Mason would render her into a melting puddle? But it did, and she wanted to continue for a long time.

  She wanted him to touch her breast again. Did that make her wanton? Her mother insisted only harlots enjoyed the things that went on between men and women.

  Someone coughed. "Boss?"

  Mason and Beth jumped. She knew her face reddened at being caught in Mason's arms.

  Rowdy pretended to look away. "Mrs. Pendleton made me come fetch you two back up there right away. She seems all het up, and I reckon you'd better hurry along before she has a spell or something."

  "Thanks, tell her we're on our way." Mason took Beth's hand and smiled. "In a few hours, no one can interrupt us."

  His words gave Beth hope. They rounded the corner pillar and climbed the slope to the front of the chapel.

  At the buckboard, Mason held her hand and looked into her eyes. "Guess Rowdy and me better get this straw spread. I'm expected at my folks later this morning."

  Mrs. Pendleton tapped her foot. "Straw's not necessary, but if you've nothing better to do, I suppose it won't hurt."

  Rowdy helped Mrs. Pendleton and Beulah climb onto the buckboard. Beulah took the reins, but smiled at Beth and Mason and waited patiently.

  Mrs. Pendleton snapped open her parasol. "Bethany, we don't have time to dally all day."

  Beth sighed, wishing as she had many times that her mother was a kinder, more patient person. No matter, soon she and Mason would answer only to each other. Mason still held her hand, and she squeezed his fingers before she pulled free. "I have to go."

  Mason pecked her on the cheek. "Yeah, I know, but it won't be long until we're wed." He helped her up and stepped back. "See you later."

  Beth waved. "In a few hours." She thou
ght ahead to tonight when they'd come together and knew she blushed.

  His eyes darkened. Plainly, his feelings matched hers. She recalled his words about seeing her naked and wondered how her body would look to him. Would she disappoint him?

  Beth hoped not. All her life she'd disappointed her parents, though she tried hard to please them. She had no intention of disappointing her husband. Would being a good wife be as impossible as being a good daughter?

  ****

  Mason watched the women until they made the bend in the road. Then he grabbed his pitchfork. The sun still shone and the stifling heat slowed them, but he and Rowdy spread straw in low spots where no grass grew and at the base of the steps so folks alighting from buggies could step on it instead of damp ground.

  Mason wondered why his soon-to-be mother-in-law was so impossible to please. How had Beth endured constant criticism without becoming hard and cynical? He didn't know, but somehow she had. He knew his bride helped many less fortunate citizens in the community, and she tried to be kind to everyone. Thank goodness she'd finally be his wife.

  When they'd finished, Mason looked inside the chapel. Unwilling to enter with dirty boots, he stood in the doorway. He visualized Beth and him standing at the altar. The day he'd secretly dreamed of for years had finally become reality. Damned if he wasn't the luckiest man in the state.

  Rowdy climbed the steps and stood beside him. "Looks purty, don't it, boss? Reckon if you're determined to go through with this, there ain't a more fitting place."

  Mason ignored Rowdy's remark as he carefully descended the stairs. He sure wasn't looking to break his leg like George Denby had. "Wait until you see it this evening with the candles lit and the prettiest woman in all of Texas standing next to me."

  Rowdy followed. "She's a looker all right and seems nice to boot, but danged if that mother of hers isn't a snippy old biddy. Couldn't please her with a blessing."

  'Yeah, but the lucky thing is that Beth isn't turned like either of her parents." And Mason could hardly wait to get her in his bed. From the way she had responded just now, she would be a willing lover, not anything like the cold Ice Queen the gossips had labeled her.

  Secretly, he'd suspected that all along. He knew for certain that she was a warm and compassionate woman who loved children and longed for a home of her own. Each time she had been promised to someone else had been hell for him. He'd fought with himself each time, told himself over and over that the man chosen for her would be a better husband than he ever could be. After all, he had this bum leg and lived on a ranch away from town and all the niceties she was accustomed to.

  The relief he had experienced as each wedding fell through sawed at his conscience. He had rejoiced in his heart that Beth wouldn't spend the night in bed with another man who had made her his woman. But every one of those occasions had torn a little piece of Mason's heart away that she hadn't stood up to her parents and chosen him. He knew how the Pendletons deviled her, nagged until they bent her to their will. Just once, he wished she'd stand up to them and speak her own mind.

  Mason smiled. She had in a way, by asking him to marry her. Darned if that didn't stick in her pompous parents' craw. But they'd given reluctant permission because they believed the gossip that had grown with each cancelled wedding. He'd have thought the parents of such a wonderful woman would have more faith in her.

  "If it don't rain, you're gonna be mad as hell we went to all this trouble." Rowdy tossed his fork into the wagon.

  Mason peered at the horizon. “Those clouds building in the southwest haven't turned threatening, but the ache in my leg never lies. It's gonna rain." He laid his pitchfork next to Rowdy's.

  "Well, then I believe it. 'Pears to me that leg of yours is better than any barometer for predicting a change in the weather."

  When he'd climbed up on the wagon seat, Mason rubbed his temples. "Dang, my head's pounding like a sonofabitch."

  "Reckon you shouldn't a been in the sun like this so soon after banging your head."

  "Likely not." Mason handed the reins to Rowdy. "Maybe you'd better drive. Drop me at my folks' place, then you can take the wagon back to the ranch."

  "Sure thing, boss. Your ma's sure to have something to soothe that lump. It's gonna worry folks, though."

  Four

  Mason clenched his jaw to prevent saying harsh words to Rowdy. Danged if a lump on the head was anything to worry anyone. Why did folks believe that jinx business?

  "Hate that the furniture hasn't arrived." He hadn't fully furnished his house, but he had a new brass bed and a big kitchen stove and a table with four chairs. Beth had helped him order more furniture, but it hadn't arrived yet. He couldn't get his mind off Beth and him in that big bed.

  Rowdy nodded. "Nice she helped pick out the things, though. Women set a big store by choosing their own things."

  It had pleased Mason for Beth and him to pick out their furnishings together. "Yeah, both sets of parents tried to put in their two cents."

  Rowdy laughed. "Reckon her mama wanted to do all the choosing. She's a hard woman to please."

  "You got that right. She wanted the fanciest stuff available. But we stuck to our guns and got what we wanted, practical things that would please a body after a hard day. Of course, we picked some things just for the heck of it." This marriage was a partnership as far as he was concerned, and he wanted Beth to speak her mind about decisions.

  The ride to his parents' ranch took thirty minutes, and Mason thought his head might burst before he arrived. When Rowdy stopped the wagon, several buggies stood in the yard.

  "My kin are here, at least some of them are." Mason climbed down from the wagon.

  "See you at the church, boss...maybe, if you ain't too jinxed to show up."

  Ignoring his ranch hand's doubt, Mason waved and went inside. Soon as he got in the door and hung his hat on a peg, his mother spotted the lump on his head.

  "What happened, son?"

  Usually he hated her fussing, but this time he hoped she had something for the ache. He touched the lump. At least the swelling had decreased.

  "Fell and hit my head. You know anything that'll help?"

  His mother pushed him into a chair. "I'll get my ointment."

  He heard laughter coming from his father's billiard room at the back of the house. Mason rose and wandered that way. The laughter grew louder as he drew closer.

  In the gaming room, Grandpa Whittaker sat in a leather wing chair by the fireplace. Mason's father and cousin Beau played billiards. From the sound of their voices and the near-empty bottle on the bar nearby, Mason thought they'd already started celebrating even though it wasn't yet noon.

  Beau looked up and saluted. "Hey, cuz. I put five dollars on you in town."

  "What?" Surely Mason had misunderstood.

  Beau offered his cocky grin. "You know. Everyone's betting you won't show up for the wedding or that if you come, you'll call it off before you say 'I do.' I said you'd go through with it."

  Damn. His own kin betting on him. Lucky for Beau he'd bet the right odds. Mason hoped the idiots in town lost their shirts betting he'd fall prey to a jinx or desert Beth. How could people believe that superstitious bunk?

  Grandpa shook his head. "I don't know. That girl's jinxed. Look what happened to Fred Mahoney last year."

  Mason fought his temper. He hated this kind of talk, and if they weren't his relatives, he'd start swinging.

  "Grandpa, have you forgotten Mahoney was a crook and a bigamist? The U.S. Marshal arrested him because he embezzled from a couple of banks back in Iowa and had at least two wives there, not because of anything to do with Beth."

  Grandpa took a sip from the glass he held. "What about George Denby three years ago?" He pointed a bony finger Mason's way. "You can't explain that away so easily."

  "Yes, I can. He broke his leg falling off his horse. He'd spent the night drinking and never could ride worth a damn. Then later he took off with that woman hired to nurse him. Heard they're married an
d living in Denison."

  "Beth didn't look that sad to see him go." Mason's father leveled a glare at him. "Mark my word, son, that girl's cold as ice. You'll be sorry if you marry her."

  Mason wasn't about to tell anyone of the heated response Beth had shown him. Danged if she hadn't caught on to kissing real fast. He thought back to holding her in his arms this morning. Her fervor had almost matched his.

  A cold woman wouldn't have shown the passion Beth had, and he could hardly wait until they were alone tonight at his ranch. He planned to make good on his promise that they'd both be naked as God made them, and he visualized soft lantern light spilling across the bed. He grew hard as a fence post thinking about it. Dang, if he didn't stop thinking along these lines, he'd embarrass himself.

  Mason smiled and kept his knowledge of his bride's ardent nature to himself. "She hides her feelings, Pa, except to me. You know how snobby her parents are. They're always yammering at her and criticizing everything she does."