Wendy Lindstrom

by Kissing in the Dark

  “It was Archer’s mouth that boiled my blood, not your comments. He glanced at the carriage house where the band was tuning up. “Did you want to dance?”

  She shook her head. “Truthfully, I’d rather leave, but I suppose it would look bad.”

  “Not if we slip away.” He guided her through the crowd of people scattered across the lawn, nodding to several guests but not stopping to speak them. When they reached the beverage table, he picked up two glasses of wine. “I’ll return the glasses tomorrow.”

  “Are those for you?” she asked, wondering if this was a side of him he kept hidden. Iris said no one was perfect. What if he had a taste for alcohol?

  “They’re for us.”

  “You just warned me not to drink any more.”

  “Because you were drinking it like punch.” He handed a glass to her. “Sip this one.”

  Before she had a chance to taste it, Duke led her across the side lawn, then pulled her behind the carriage house. He hurried them to a side street then walked her to Main. Gas streetlamps cast circles of hazy yellow light across the dusty, rutted street.

  “That was exhilarating,” she said, sipping her wine to calm her racing heart.

  He chuckled and slipped his arm around her waist. “I had hoped to have a few more dances with you.”

  ‘And I had hoped to use the dance floor to show off this gorgeous dress,” she said, watching the play of light and shadow across the silk fabric of her skirt.

  “Here I’d thought you wanted to dance so you could get your hands on me.”

  She laughed. “That too.”

  “Really?” He stopped and faced her. “Do you enjoy being with me?”

  “I would think it’s obvious, but yes,” she said, her face warming as she spoke aloud the truth in her heart. “I enjoy it very much.”

  “I want to talk with you in private,” he said, leading her down Eagle Street. “Do you have a blanket or towels and a lantern in the greenhouse?”

  “Yes, but my anxiety is as strong as my curiosity. Why do you want those things?”

  He linked his fingers with hers. “I’m taking you to a swimming hole not far from your place. Colburn dammed a section of the creek behind that building so he could manage his water supply to the gristmill. My brothers and I have been swimming there since we were boys. The mill pond makes a good spot to cool off in the summer.”

  They stopped at the greenhouse, then headed across her backyard Duke carried the towels and a lantern. Faith carried their half-full wineglasses in one hand and lifted her skirt with the other. They followed the bank of the burbling feeder stream that cut through a rutted field clotted with bushy maple trees.

  “If I don’t break my neck it will be a miracle,” she said.

  “Just don’t spill the wine if you fall,” he replied.

  She laughed and stumbled, bumping his shoulder. “Oh! I’m sorry. Did I hurt you?”

  “No.”

  Of course not. He wouldn’t admit it if she had.

  She stepped cautiously, but her ankles wobbled over every ridge and crevice in the rutted ground. “If I ruin my new shoes—”

  “I’ll buy you another pair.” He clamped the towels under his elbow and transferred the lantern to that hand, allowing him to slip his free arm around her waist. “We’re almost there, but I’ll carry you if you’d like.”

  “And ruin all my work on your shoulder? Not a chance. Besides, you would break your back if you tried to lift me. I’m wrapped in yards of material.”

  “Careful, you’re tempting me to unwrap you.”

  “And you’re tempting me to run back to my safe little greenhouse.”

  They laughed quietly in the dark, the two of them sneaking away from a world that judged too harshly and asked too much. The night air was soft against her face and smelled earthy fresh in her nostrils. She liked this place already, and knew she would find her way back as soon as possible. The sound of night peepers filled the night, and she could hear the plop of a toad or frog jumping into the water as they approached a large pond.

  The lantern shimmered across the water and gilded the leaves of a maple tree growing at the edge of the pond. Duke set the lantern beneath the tree and spread the towels on the grass. He dimmed the lantern until it illuminated a small circle around it.

  “Look up, Faith.”

  Standing, she lifted her face to a vast night sky peppered with bright glowing stars. Her tension flowed out with her breath. “I haven’t looked at the stars or watched the sunset in two months.” Sadness filled her. “How do we forget so quickly? How do we allow ourselves to get too busy to appreciate such simple things as a night sky?”

  He didn’t answer. Because there wasn’t an answer. You either looked for the stars or missed them.

  He stood behind her and slipped his arms around her waist, holding her loosely. “My dad could clap his hand on my shoulder and make me feel ten feet tall. A small gesture, but one I’ll never forget.”

  In life, those were the things that mattered most—a night sky, a touch of affection, a smile of approval, all without cost but of immense value to a person’s soul. Faith finished her wine in silence, looking at the stars, listening to the rhythm of the night peepers, wishing she could enjoy this without memories and guilt weighing her down.

  “My mother visited Fredonia one fall when the leaves were turning, and the smell of ripe grapes filled the air. She told me the church bells sounded like angels singing.”

  Duke’s arms tightened in a gentle hug, as if he understood her heartache, and that words would never console her.

  “She wanted to live here in a small house with a big porch and a rose garden, but she never came back.”

  “Why not?” he asked softly, echoing Faith’s own relentless question. Why not? Why hadn’t she dared what Faith and her aunts were doing? What had stopped her?

  “I don’t know.” Faith sighed. “Maybe it’s best. She would have been disappointed to know there are horse thieves and men like Archer living here.”

  “Weeds grow in every garden, Faith.”

  She laughed at his analogy. “You’ve been spending too much time in my greenhouse.”

  He nuzzled her neck. “I like spending time with you.”

  What she felt for him went far beyond like. Hot desire, deep admiration, and an embarrassing fondness for his kisses could only begin to describe her feelings for him. Her body was tingling in a so many places, she would sound like the peepers if her nerve endings could emit sound. She wanted to make his body sing like hers, to give him one good reason to marry her. Wasn’t that what mattered most to a man? To have a submissive and pleasing wife?

  “Faith, why don’t you ever talk about your late husband?” He may as well have shoved her into the cold pond. “Doesn’t Cora ask about him?”

  Her heart clamored, but she warned herself to stay calm. “I don’t want her to know the caliber of man who fathered her.”

  Duke turned her to face him. “Did he hurt you?”

  “Not the way you think,” she said, trying to find an explanation that would allow them to permanently bury the subject. “Her father was corrupt. I was relieved when he was no longer part of our lives.” Her conscience barely balked, because every word was the truth.

  And she was done talking about her life for the night. She wanted to head toward her future, not linger in her past. For her own sake. For Cora’s and Adam’s sakes.

  She frowned and upended her empty glass. “We should have brought more wine.”

  “Are you thirsty?”

  “No.”

  “Nervous then?”

  “Yes. I’m not used to standing in the dark with a shadow man.”

  His mouth quirked. “This shadow man would like to kiss you.”

  “Permission granted,” she whispered, and lifted her mouth to his, giving him her trust and her passion.

  His arms slipped around her waist, his empty glass dangling from his long fingers, hers resting against
her thigh as their bodies met. She thrilled to his touch, and her wishful heart beat hard, begging him to hear her prayer, to marry her and make her dreams come true. And she would give him the one thing she’d never been able to give another: her heart.

  His mouth grew more eager and she fit herself against body, making him groan. He kissed her hard and fast, like he was starving and couldn’t control his greed. But maybe she was greedy. She felt desperate and needy. He ground his hips against hers, his hard thigh riding high between her legs as he kissed her like she’d never been kissed in her life.

  Because none of the men before Duke had cared about her. She was a whore’s daughter unworthy of them.

  Her body trembled as she broke the kiss. “Have you ever been in love?” she whispered.

  He braced his chin against her forehead, his breathing ragged. “Once,” he said. “When I was ten.”

  She smiled at his honesty, and at the thought of him as a dark-haired, wide-eyed boy.

  “She was my teacher, and she had the nerve to marry a man her own age and move away.”

  Touched by his mix of humor and sincerity, Faith caressed his warm cheek, loving the prickle of new whiskers breaking through his recent shave. “You are so charming. I don’t know how any woman could walk away from you.”

  He leaned back, revealing the sculpted shadows of his face. “Don’t walk away, Faith.”

  “I won’t.”

  “I mean ever.” He broke away to kneel by the lantern. He raised the wick, illuminating his handsome face and the hand he held out to her. “Will you marry me?”

  Her breath whooshed out. She stared at him, so golden and beautiful kneeling beneath the gilded maple tree, offering the life she’d prayed for.

  “I’ve seen how happy my brothers and their wives are with each other. I didn’t think I’d ever find that with anyone until I met you. My head, my heart, and my gut say you’re the one for me, and that we can share that same joy and passion. Say you’ll be my wife, that we can create a good, happy life together.”

  To see him on his knee, his gorgeous gaze filled with trust and desire, made her eyes fill with tears.

  “Say yes, Faith. Say you’ll meet me right here beneath this tree three weeks from now and take your vows with me.”

  “Oh, Duke . . .” She linked her fingers with his, wishing she could be more for him, tortured by her conscience, torn by her need for truth and her need for security. She knelt in front of him. “I’d be honored to be your wife.”

  “I’ll make you happy,” he promised, then sealed the vow with a tender kiss.

  “You already have.” She cradled his face, the face she would kiss each night and wake to each morning, and vowed in her heart to be perfect for him, to bring him joy and laughter if not truth. Starting now, right here beneath these beautiful stars, she would put her past behind her and think only of their future, of pleasing him, of making sure he never regretted marrying her.

  Chapter 23

  Radford dropped his hand maul in the lumberyard and gaped at Duke. “You’re what?”

  “I’m marrying Faith on August second.”

  Boyd and Kyle exchanged a shocked glance.

  “Stop looking like someone died, fellas. I’m not new at this. I’ve been courting women since I was sixteen. I don’t need months to decide if Faith is the right woman for me. She is, and I’m going to marry her in three weeks. Radford, I’d like you to be my best man.”

  Radford’s jaw dropped farther.

  “I stepped in so Evelyn had someone to give her away when she married you. I was hoping you’d stand for my wedding, too.” Duke had considered asking Patrick or Boyd, but he wanted Radford to stand beside him and give his blessing, to witness their vows, and to accept Faith and Adam and Cora as part of their family. “I’d like you to do it.”

  Radford gave him a half nod. “All right. I will.” He shook Duke’s hand. “Congratulations,” he said, but sounded like he was offering his condolences.

  Kyle gave Duke’s shoulder a hard squeeze. “Does Mother know yet?”

  “I told her this morning, and she was pleased. She wants to help Faith plan the wedding.”

  Boyd whacked Duke upside the head. “You just cost me a two-hour body rub. Claire said you’d propose before summer ended. I said you’d hold out until Christmas.”

  “So you’ll have to rub your wife’s body for two hours? What a hardship.”

  A wicked grin lit Boyd’s face. “I’ll hate every minute of it.” He caught Duke’s hand in a firm clasp. “Congratulations. Where’s the party?”

  “I’m not sure yet.”

  “We can have it at our house,” Radford said.

  His offer surprised Duke, and it meant a lot that Radford was trying to be supportive despite his reservations. “Thanks, Rad. I’d like that.”

  “What can we do to help?” Boyd asked.

  “Welcome Faith and Adam and Cora to our family.” he said, swelling with pride that his beautiful Faith, his soon-to-be wife, would take her place alongside his lovely sisters-in-laws.

  o0o

  On Tuesday afternoon Dr. Paul Milton limped into the greenhouse. He was the last person Faith wanted to see while feeling so disheartened. The new owners of the Colburn house were beginning to move in. She’d seen men carrying furniture inside all week, and this morning, Nancy Grayson had delivered a housewarming gift.

  Aster puffed up like an angry bulldog as she faced the doctor. “If you’ve come to give us another lecture, Dr. Milton, you just limp your sorry self right back out the door.”

  Faith gawked at her aunt. Aster had always been blunt, but never intentionally rude. When they’d heard that the doctor had had a buggy accident on Saturday, Aster said he’d needed to be taken down a peg. Faith sent a note wishing him well, and apologizing for her unladylike outburst at the lawn party. She wasn’t sorry at all, but she didn’t want to antagonize any of Duke’s acquaintances, especially when he might need their vote in the election.

  “I’d like to speak with Mrs. Wilkins,” the doctor said, but Aster blocked his way to the counter where Faith was showing Cora how to use a mortar and pestle to crush peppermint leaves.

  “My niece is planning her wedding to the sheriff, and I won’t let you rain on her happiness.”

  Iris and Tansy were a row away clipping herbs for two customers. All four women turned their attention to Aster and the doctor.

  His face flushed. “I have no intention of raining on anything, Miss Wilde. I’m seeking a turn in this bath I’ve been hearing about.”

  Aster arched a white eyebrow. “Are you referring to the herbal bath we’re using as a means to ‘swindle money from the innocent ladies in town’? Isn’t that what you accused us of?”

  “I’m willing to try the bath myself and change my opinion.”

  Aster shook her head. “Sorry. Doctor, but the bath isn’t available to men.”

  “Sheriff Grayson comes here for treatment, does he not?”

  “The sheriff is using our services to assure you kind citizens we’re running a respectable business.”

  “Those of us in the healing profession would like that same assurance.”

  “Rubbish, Doctor. You’re here because your own medicine won’t relieve your pain, and you’re desperate enough to try our bath. I should boot your arrogant carcass right out the door— but proving you wrong is going to be much more satisfying.” She ignored the gasps and titters from Iris and the ladies, and headed toward the bathhouse. “Come along, Doctor. You have the pleasure of being my patient for the morning.”

  The doctor limped along behind Aster, looking a bit bewildered and browbeaten, which Faith found immensely satisfying. Her aunts gave her constant lessons in handling men. She just wished they could help her silence her conscience. It was killing her to let Duke walk into their marriage blind.

  Three days had passed since she’d accepted his proposal, and she could barely think of anything but their upcoming marriage. Their commitment t
o each other had eased her anxiety about the future and allowed her to return his warmth and affection. Each night after stretching his arm and shoulder, they kissed passionately. She trusted Duke to keep them from going too far because his honor was solid, and because she had no willpower when his hands were on her. But she felt deceitful and undeserving of him, and that wouldn’t change as long as her black secrets were between them.

  “Is this squished enough?” Cora asked, peering into the mortar bowl at the greenish paste.

  “Yes, sweetie. We’ll add some lavender after lunch.” She kissed the top of Cora’s head and reminded herself that marrying Duke was the right thing to do.

  Faith fed Cora then put her down for a nap in the pasture, as Cora now referred to their pretty bedchamber. Tansy’s talent was impressive, and Faith felt a sense of peace and wonder as she gazed at the pony and the expansive view Tansy had painted on her wall.

  She found Tansy whisking her brush across the parlor wall, creating a green and cranberry paisley pattern. “I’ll finish the rest tomorrow,” the woman said, her eyes lit with excitement.

  “It’s going to look gorgeous,” Faith said. “We’ll be the envy of every woman in town.”

  “Wouldn’t that be ironic?”

  Faith laughed. “It surely would be.” She helped Tansy carry the pails and paint brushes to the greenhouse where they found Aster, Dahlia, and Iris at the counter howling with laughter.

  “Dr. Milton shucked his arrogance right along with his clothes,” Aster was saying.

  “What are you old hens cackling about?” Tansy asked, plunking her pail and brushes on the counter. Faith followed and set her bucket beside Tansy’s.

  ‘Aster’s telling us about Doc Milton’s visit,” Dahlia said, her bosoms bouncing from her chuckles.

  Faith scanned the greenhouse and was relieved to see it empty.

  “Well, you should have seen that man,” Aster said, her cheeks more flushed than Faith had ever seen them. “When I dug my fingers into his sore left buttock, he squeaked like a frightened mouse. He says, ‘Miss Wilde! What are you doing down there?’” She cackled and pressed her hand to her stomach. “I said, ‘Surely, Doctor, you’re intelligent enough to realize I’m massaging your ass.’”