Luke's First Bride

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Luke's First Bride Page 8

by Rayanna Jamison


  Lucas was fighting to hold back his laughter as he spoke. "Rosa, I am going to double your budget this month because of Christmas. However, your gift to me will be that you will repaint this room something that is not pink, and my gift to you will be the paint and primer to do so. The rest of the money is for Christmas dinner and gifts for our parents. Understand?"

  "Yes Lucas," Rosa said with a sigh laying her head on his shoulder, relieved that the pink was going to be going.

  It had seemed like a great idea when she started… but now, even her inner little girl was growing sick of it. She could only imagine how Luke must have felt when he saw it.

  "Good. Now we are going to have a talk about what has been going on with you lately. When was the last time you even left the house besides to go to church or to the market?"

  Rosa bristled and instantly went back on the defensive. "I don't know what you mean," she told him, raising her chin, and looking down her nose at him defiantly.

  "Oh, really?" he growled. "Don't push me. You will cooperate with this conversation, or you will be doing your talking from your position across my knee. And my hand will be doing my talking. Got it?"

  Rosa gulped. Well, that certainly wasn't the turn she had wanted this to take. Backtracking, she asked meekly, "I'm sorry, what was your question?"

  "When was the last time you left the house besides the market or church? When was the last time you did anything for yourself? Because, as far as I can tell, you have done nothing for the past few weeks besides try to live up to some image in your head of I don't know what."

  She opened her mouth to respond angrily, but Luke shushed her, plowing forward. "I appreciate everything you do here, Rosa, more than you know. But overnight you changed into a whole different person. You're pushing yourself too hard, you're moving from morning to night without a break, and it's wearing on you. It's wearing on me too. Sooner or later, it's going to catch up with you and you're attitude is going to put you in a position you don't want to be in."

  Rosa was fuming. Why was Luke always so kind and reasonable? His words made sense but why couldn't he see she was doing this all for him? She sat there stone faced, holding back tears.

  "Rosa," Luke nudged her, "Talk to me, honey. Please. You're putting up a wall here, and it's not good, and I don't understand why you're doing it.

  "It's your fault!" Rosa muttered under her breath.

  Faster than she could draw breath Luke did some sort of scooping swoop, and she was upturned across his lap getting a close up look at the new quilt.

  "Lucas! Stop!" she shrieked.

  "I'm not doing anything," Luke replied evenly, though she sensed his amusement. "But," he continued laying a hand firmly on her lower back, "I'm going to keep you here for a bit, until you can remember to talk to me with respect, and discuss your problems like an adult."

  "You expect me to act like an adult while you're treating me like a child? Oh that's rich," Rosa snarled, then winced when Luke's hand came down hard across her backside. "Ow! I thought you said you weren't going to do anything!"

  "It was a warning," Luke informed her mildly. "Keep up with the attitude, and there will be more where that came from. Talk to me nicely, and answer my questions with respect, and I may let you up. Although, it is a lovely view." Luke's tone was contemplative. "It's kind of obstructed right now though. Maybe I should just do something about that."

  Rosa felt his fingers rest under the waistband of her skirt, and she gave a little wail. He didn't take her skirt down, though his fingers stayed in place, as if to warn her of what might come.

  "Now, Rosa, do you want to tell me why you're working your fingers to the bone around here and acting like a perfect fifties throwback wife, or do you want to continue being difficult, in which case, I'll have to let my hand do the talking?"

  Rosa was silently formulating a semi-respectful response, or trying to anyway, but Luke's patience must have been wearing thin, because he hurried her along with a short flurry of slaps to her sit spot.

  "Answer me, Rosa, or the skirt comes down," he said, and she could feel his fingers flexing at her waistband, playing with it.

  "You said… Luke, I'm doing what you wanted! You told me I needed to be a certain way, and now I am, and you're mad at me!" She probably spoke a bit loudly, it came out a bit more like a yell, and she braced herself for a swat as she felt Luke's hand draw back.

  But the swat never came.

  "I… what?" Luke sounded confused, and oddly concerned.

  "You said," Rosa twisted around to look at him. "You said I had to look good, and make you look good, and you needed me to take care of everything here, because you were going to be too busy being the bishop of this whole community to take care of anything, including me!"

  Rosa was shocked as Luke adeptly lifted her off his lap and into a sitting position on the bed beside him.

  "When, exactly, did I say this?" Luke questioned, looking at her intently, his face drawn into a mask of concern.

  "Last time you were, you know, spanking me," Rosa lowered her voice to a whisper when she got to the word 'spanking'—it still made her blush to talk about it.

  Luke pursed his lips together. "Rosa, I don't know where you got that. I think you may need to get your ears cleaned out or something, because I most certainly said nothing of the sort."

  "Yes, you did!" she insisted.

  Luke just looked at her with that look, the one that seemed to ask if she wanted to go back over his knee.

  Drawing a calming breath, she tried to start over, but she didn't really know what to say. She sat there silently with tears in her eyes, looking at her husband imploringly.

  Luke took pity on her, and spoke for her. "Rosa, I need you to try hard to think before you act, and not thoughtlessly do things that will make me or yourself look bad, like shoving people in mud puddles or using my bank card before I deposit my check. I do not need a wife that stresses herself to the max, trying to be perfect all the time, or a home that is spotless every minute of the day. I do not need Afghans and doilies on every surface, or ten gallons of home canned applesauce and salsa. And I certainly don't need a wife who is trying so hard to keep everything perfect that she never leaves the house. If anything, I need you out in the community more than I need you at home dusting."

  Rosa took in his words, wiping a tear from her eye as she listened.

  "There are certain pressures to being a bishop's wife, I get that. But honey, I don't expect perfection. Rosa, you're so young, we both are. We're just starting out, baby, we'll make mistakes, and that's okay. Without mistakes, you don't learn and grow. If you want to know what I need from you, just ask me, but you can't twist my words into some crazy unrealistic expectation for yourself. Rosa, baby, I am so in love with you—the real you. Where did that girl go? I miss her. This new souped up version is so, so... so… Carolyn Atwood."

  Luke wrinkled his nose in distaste, and Rosa had to laugh at the way he had said her name so that it sounded like a swear word. "Lucas Miller! You take that back right now," she squealed indignantly.

  "Oh, I'll take it back," he promised, "as soon as you start acting less like Carolyn and more like Rosa Collins-Miller." Luke's eyes were twinkling, and Rosa knew he was no longer upset.

  She sighed happily. Lucas was always a perfect mix of sternness, humor, and kindness. He had a gift when it came to dealing with people, especially her. He was going to be an amazing bishop, and she was going to try to be an amazing bishop's wife. Without going all nutso this time, she silently reminded herself.

  Signaling that they were done with serious conversation, Luke flopped backwards onto the bed, and Rosa followed suit. She was happy, relaxed, and ready to move on to a relaxing evening with her hubby, something she hadn't done in far too long. There was just one thing still bugging her.

  "Lucas," Rosa asked, propping herself up with her elbow, "What is it you need from me?"

  Chapter 10

  Luke walked into an empty house and fix
ed himself a peanut butter sandwich. It was the third time this week. Given the events and misunderstandings of last week, it occurred to him to wonder if he ought to be concerned. Rosa was indeed doing what he asked and busying herself around the community, performing duties much like the ones his mother had always taken care of, but without the cake baking. His mother's bakery was now up and running, just in time for the holiday rush. Every time he walked by, it looked as if business was going well.

  The holidays were always a busy season for everyone, so he was sure that that was probably it. Rosa had a big heart, and she had thrown herself, and her talents, into serving the parishioners in any way she could. It was what he had asked of her, and if it meant he ate sandwiches for dinner every once in a while, he could live with that.

  He could use the time to work on her Christmas gift anyway. The room had been finished and was no longer pink, and though he knew he had said no more money to buy gifts for each other, he was making her a beautiful bench for the back patio. She loved to sit out there at night, and all they had was a pair of crappy metal folding chairs. He had a feeling she was making him something too, the clues were all there.

  He figured she was out visiting Beth Anne, who was due to have the baby any day now, or out making plans for this year's community Christmas party, which he and Rosa would be in charge of hosting this year. Finishing up his sandwich, Luke downed a glass of lemonade and headed back out to his truck. His and Rosa's house didn't have a garage so he was making the bench in his father's garage. It was ideal anyway, because he didn't have to worry that Rosa might see it before Christmas.

  His parent's house was a short drive, and Luke got there within minutes. Right as he pulled up in front of the large two story home where he had grown up, the front door opened, and he was shocked to see Carolyn Atwood come out. Her head was down, and she didn't look in his direction, but he knew it was indeed Carolyn with her signature blonde ringlets, and her brightly colored tea length dress. No one else in Green Valley dressed like that. He was surprised to see her there, and figured she must be home for the holiday break.

  Still that didn't explain what she was doing at his parent's home. Luke stayed in his truck, not wanting any sort of confrontation with her, and waited until she had pulled away. Then, wreathed in confusion, he slowly exited, and walked up the steps to his childhood home. He would usually walk right in, but still puzzled over what he had seen, he knocked instead. His father answered immediately, looking troubled.

  "Oh, uh, hello Lucas. What... er... what are you doing here?" His father asked, looking past him, down the driveway.

  "I'm here to work on Rosa's gift, Dad, but I just thought I would stop by and say hello first." Luke paused before asking, "Was that Carolyn I saw leaving?"

  His dad frowned, and refused to meet his eyes. "Yes, that was Carolyn. Just home for the break and stopping in to say hello."

  His father's eyes were weary, and Luke wondered what was going on, but he knew it was nothing as untoward as it seemed, and he had no desire to get caught up in the drama of Carolyn's life, so he let it go.

  "The garage is open I'm just going to be in my office if you need me." His dad said as he turned away.

  Shaking his head, Luke headed to the garage. If he could get the bench built today, he could stain it over the weekend.

  * * * * *

  Rosa's phone had been ringing off the hook all day. With Christmas fast approaching, everyone seemed to need something, and Rosa couldn't say no. She was the acting bishop's wife after all, even though it wasn't official for a few more weeks. She had spent the morning sitting with Beth Anne, because Ben was afraid to leave her alone so close to her due date. That had been the only good part of her day.

  Then she had driven all the way to Everton to take the Widows Brown to a doctor's appointment in the city. That had been interesting, because all the two women did was bicker at each other constantly. It had made for an extra long and trying afternoon. At least their appointments had gone by quickly, and she had been back in Green Valley by two. Of course, as soon as she had rolled into town and dropped the widows off, her phone rang again. Sophia Jefferson had needed her to babysit while she and her sister-wife Lucy did some Christmas shopping for the kids.

  Rosa loved Sophia and Lucy, but the kids were young, and baby Auggie was colicky. After two hours with a screaming baby, who was supposed to be napping, Rosa's nerves were completely shot, and she realized she was late for a Ladies' Aid meeting to discuss details of the community Christmas party.

  The meeting was barely tolerable, she was learning, as most of the Ladies' Aid meetings were. While everyone loved Lucas, and had no problem treating him as Bishop, the ladies of Green Valley did not take kindly to treating her the same. After all, they were all twenty plus years older than her for the most part, and used to dealing with Luke's mother, Nancy, who was now too busy with her shop to attend the meetings on a regular basis.

  Nearly everything Rosa suggested for the party was quickly vetoed by the older ladies in the group, who wanted every detail to be exactly the same as it had been for the last ten years. If that was the case, what was the point in having a dang meeting anyway? After the fourth or fifth time her suggestions were shot down, Rosa quit saying anything altogether. She sat there fuming over the fairness of having to waste an hour of her day every week with the stupid Ladies' Aid anyway.

  "Rosa… Rosa?"

  Rosa shook herself, trying to gather her thoughts as she realized Louise Barstow was calling her name.

  "I'm sorry, yes?" Rosa tried to appear interested, but she had had a very long day, and she was over it.

  "Well," Louise huffed, smoothing her skirt. "I don't see why we're here, if you can't even be bothered to pay attention and contribute. We really don't need to have a meeting, anyway. Everyone does the same things every year, and there's certainly no need to make changes this late in the game. The party is in less than two weeks anyway." The rest of the ladies in attendance tittered in agreement, and for Rosa it was the last straw.

  She stood, abruptly and began gathering her things. "You know what? I wasn't the one who called this stupid meeting, Louise, you were! And I'm really not sure why you invited me since all you have done since I got here is put me and every single one of my ideas down. You obviously don't need, or want, me here, and I have many better things I could be doing than sitting around listening to a bunch of mean spirited old ladies gossip and put me down!" She was caught up in her rant now, and she stomped her foot for good measure before continuing. "You ladies just take care of everything and do whatever it is you want and keep me out of it. I quit!" And with that, she turned on her heel, and stomped out the door shrieking in frustration.

  Behind her, she heard Louise sputtering, "But, you can't quit, you're the bishop's wife."

  But Rosa didn't care. As far as she was concerned, she was done with Ladies' Aid forever. They were a sad group of bitter, petty, old ladies and she would not be forced to spend another minute in their presence. Their ideas were old and boring and outdated, and they were allergic to change. She doubted there was a single woman there under fifty, and she knew no one her age wanted to join the group for exactly those reasons. She was never going back, and that was that.

  * * * * *

  Luke was busy sanding the board he planned on using for the seat of the bench and didn't hear his father enter the garage, so he startled when he felt a tap on his back. He turned to find his father standing behind him looking troubled.

  "Dad?" Luke questioned, instantly concerned. "What's up, Is everything okay?"

  "Oh, nothing too serious, son, but, I've just had a call from your mother. It seems that there was some trouble at the Ladies' Aid meeting this afternoon."

  Luke frowned, confused on what this had to do with him. He knew nothing about Ladies Aid, other than his mother had been in charge of it for many years. Slowly, it began to sink in. His mother had been at the bakery today, all day. He knew, because he had walked by and
waved through the window several times, and seen her car out front when he left the office this evening. So if his mother was no longer a part of Ladies' Aid that meant… his heart sank.

  "Rosa," he asked, looking at his dad for confirmation.

  His dad nodded, and shuffled his feet. "I'm afraid so. It seems that she told off Louise Barstow, quit the Ladies' Aid, and stormed out of the meeting, screaming."

  Mouth set in a thin line, Luke began to pack up his things. He had hoped to get the bench completely built tonight, but it seemed he had more pressing matters to attend to. His wife's temper for instance. He had not until very recently realized that Rosa had such a temper. She kept it under control most of the time, but when she didn't—watch out. She could throw a pretty epic fit, and it was a behavior Luke was determined to nip in the butt. Literally.

  He was heading out to his truck when his dad stopped him, grabbing ahold of his arm, gently. "Don't be too hard on her, son. I have a feeling Rosa is feeling a tremendous amount of pressure right about now. And Louise Barstow can be a real handful on her best day."

  Luke nodded sagely. "I'm aware of that, and I'll keep it in mind, Dad. But, the reality is that Rosa and I have had several conversations about her temper, and she needs to be accountable for her actions. Everything she does reflects on me, especially in that group. They're going to be the hardest to please as it is. Rosa cannot be throwing fits and starting wars, or they will make both of our lives miserable." Luke turned and climbed into his truck, but not before reassuring his father. "I'll make sure I get her side of the story, Dad. Don't worry." But, she's in trouble, no matter what. The last words he said silently to himself.

  It only took him a few minutes to get from his parent's house to the carriage house where he and Rosa lived, but Lucas was surprised when he got home to see that Rosa still wasn't there. It was nearly eight o' clock in the evening, and the Ladies' Aid meeting had ended hours ago. He called her, but her phone went straight to voicemail. He paced around the living room. Where could she be?

 

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