Читать книгу Mother's Day Miracle and Blessed Baby - Lois Richer - Страница 11

“Oh, I’m so glad you’re here, Blair. And you, too, Briony. You’ve made it the perfect day.” Two weeks later Clarissa hugged her dearest friends in turn, paying careful attention not to crush her wedding dress. “It’s been so long since we were all together. The three musketeers—Blair Delayney, Briony Green and Clarissa Cartwright. I miss college sometimes. We could just flop on each other’s bed and chat nonstop.”

“Of course we’re here! We wouldn’t miss this for anything! If you remember, this—” Blair waved a hand around the bride’s room at the church “—is what we chatted about.” She dabbed at her tears. “You’ve waited a long time, honey, and Wade is a wonderful man. I know you’ll both be very happy.”

“You will be happy, Prissy. I can feel it right here.” Briony tapped her chest, giggling as Clarissa rolled her eyes at her indignation of that old nickname. “I only get that feeling at special times and this is one of them.”

“I think you get that feeling when you eat as much pepperoni as you did last night. Try some antacids.” Blair winked at Clarissa, reminding her of the impromptu shower the two college friends had held in her bedroom.

They’d given her frilly nighties made of the silkiest fabric. She’d never had anything so lovely. She hadn’t wanted to tell them she was getting married because of Wade’s kids. Neither had he. In fact, they hadn’t told anyone the truth, not even the kids.

“It’s a private matter between us,” Wade had insisted. “Let them think whatever they want. I want the kids to believe we’re going to be a normal family, that their world is as secure as every other kid’s in this town.”

She’d agreed because it made things so much easier. The problem was, even on her wedding day, Clarissa still wasn’t sure what “normal” was in their case. He’d said she was pretty a lot of times. And lately his arm had taken a liking to her waist, especially if she left her hair down.

It made her breath catch when his fingers trickled through the strands and he compared it to silver in that muted growly voice. She’d learned a little about his family, too. His mother had been a silversmith. At least, she wanted to be, until her husband deserted her and she had to waitress to make ends meet.

Clarissa pushed the reminders of romantic dreams away as she felt heat rise in her face. If he hadn’t said it, lately Wade’s kisses had shown he found her attractive. But what did that mean?

This was still a marriage for the children’s sake. No matter how much she wanted to pretend, Clarissa knew that romantic love had very little to do with it.

Mrs. McLeigh poked her head around the door, her round face beaming. “Come along now, dearie. The music’s just starting. You follow your friends down the aisle, and then Bertie Manslow is going to sing something or other. I forget the name of it. Then the reverend will get busy and marry you two lovebirds. All right?”

Clarissa felt a surge of panic and held out a hand. “No! Wait.”

“Prissy? Honey, is anything wrong?” Briony’s soft fingers covered hers.

Clarissa dredged up a smile as nerves twitched her stomach around like a little boat on gigantic waves. “No, I just need a moment to compose myself. You know, pinch myself to make sure it’s real. Can I do that?” she asked Mrs. McLeigh, who’d designated herself wedding coordinator and organized the entire community into sponsoring what seemed to be the wedding of the year.

“Oh, of course you can, you sweetheart! Out you go now, ladies. Into the powder room. Let’s give the bride a few moments. It won’t hurt her groom to cool his heels.”

Blair stayed where she was frowning, but Clarissa patted her hand reassuringly. “I just want to pray a minute,” she told her, smiling away her fears. “I’m fine.”

Blair’s face cleared. “I’ll pray too,” she whispered back. “But I think God’s already done His best work putting you two together.”

“Thanks.” But as she sat alone in that room, listening to the organ music, Clarissa closed her eyes and prayed desperately for reassurance. Was this the right thing to do? Was she making an awful mistake? She’d tried so hard to build bridges between herself and Wade, even asked his uncle to be part of the ceremony.

“Ah, there you are.” Carston Featherhawk slipped inside the room after one quick knock, his mouth slashed wide in a grin. “Time to walk the beautiful bride down the aisle. Wade’s a lucky man to have you take him on. ‘Specially with all his trouble. I just hope he’s learned his lesson. Not like last time.”

“Last time?” A niggle of fear grew by leaps and bounds. Clarissa stuffed it down. “What do you mean?”

“Never talks about himself much, does he?” Carston nodded. “Can’t say as I blame him. Had a pretty tough life with his dad leaving like that. Like to killed my sister to find out he’d just dumped her and the kids and walked away. But she stuck to it, got herself a job and devoted herself to Kendra and Wade. Wasn’t her fault her man couldn’t handle his duty to the family. Ran away, he did. Just when Mary, my sister, needed him most.”

His mouth tightened, his eyes grew cold. “She killed herself caring for that boy, and what did he do? Just like his dad. Up and left her to face the music on her own when she got sick.” Carston stopped, then frowned as if he’d only just realized to whom he was speaking.

“It’s all right. We’re going to be married. I should know this, I think.” Clarissa wasn’t sure that was altogether true, but it was too late to back out now. She wanted to know all about Wade, but she’d never been able to coax any of his past out of him. Was this why?

“I suppose, being as you two are about to be wed, you should know the worst.” Carston nodded, scratched his chin again and then plunged into the past. “Wade was always a wild one. Hated it when the other kids made fun of him, his clothes, his race, his drawing. Learned to fight young. He’d get a rebellious streak in him and nothing could stop him from fighting. Once he busted up a house and then ran away. Mary cried herself to sleep for days, aching for him to come home. When he did, he acted as if he’d never done a thing wrong. Don’t suppose he ever paid her back, either.”

“Wade ran away?” Clarissa wanted to get this clear.

“Sure, lots of times. Made it a habit, you might say. Always wanted his own way, did Wade, even if it cost somebody else. He’s the one who got Kendra killed, you know.” He tsk-tsked at her white face. “Oh, not directly, of course. But it was his fault, all the same. He’s to blame and that’s the truth.”

Clarissa’s heart dropped to her shoes. Wade had never spoken to her of Kendra except to say that she was his sister, the kids’ mother and that she was dead. Was this why? Because he felt guilty? But for what?

His uncle was saying Wade ran away from trouble. Was that what he would do at the first sign of problems in their marriage? Clarissa didn’t kid herself that there wouldn’t be any. All marriages had problems. Especially ones based on a lie, and she had lied when he’d asked her if she thought their friendship would carry them through.

She didn’t, because she was counting on building more than a friendship with Wade Featherhawk. That’s what she’d prayed for every night for the past two weeks.

“I’m just gonna get me a drink of water,” Carston muttered, licking his lips. “Then we’ll get this shindig on the road. I think you’ll be real good for Wade. He needs a strong dependable woman to keep him on course, make him face up to reality.”

After Carston left, Clarissa closed her eyes and groaned. Was that what she was? Some kind of a rudder! It was not what she wanted from her marriage.

Here I am, on what should be the happiest day of my life, and all I can think of are questions.

What if things got hard, very hard, and Wade ran away from his responsibility—her and the children? What would she do then?

“Pray,” Clarissa reminded herself, wishing Carston had delved into this before today.

What should she do now? The whole town had gotten into the spirit of their wedding, donating flowers, decorating the church, sponsoring a shower and a reception, even arranging for a short honeymoon at a nearby campground.

If she didn’t go through with it, she’d be a laughingstock. Again. Not only that, Wade’s business would suffer. She wouldn’t be able to tell them why she opted out, of course. How could she say she had doubts? They thought she was deliriously in love with him because that’s what she’d wanted them to think so they wouldn’t pity her! If she dumped him on their wedding day, the whole town would speculate and the awful rumors about him would surface once more. Could she do that to him? To the kids?

I’ve got to start this marriage with trust. I don’t know what happened back then, but I know Wade now. I’ve seen his love and devotion to those kids. And I know he’s committed to our marriage. He won’t let me down.

Clarissa gathered up her bouquet, straightened her dress and pushed her shoulders back in determination. She’d wished and prayed for a husband and a family. The answer had come. Now it was up to her to fulfill her part of the deal.

I won’t be a burden, she promised silently. Not like with Gran. I won’t ever make him feel that I can’t carry my own weight in this family. I’ll make him see he doesn’t need to feel responsible for me, to give up anything for me.

The door burst open and Carston stood on the threshold grinning. “Ready?”

Clarissa took a deep breath, whispered one more prayer for peace, then nodded. “I’m ready,” she murmured.

“Good! ‘Cause those kids are like to popping their buttons outside, waiting to parade down that aisle. I don’t think I’ve ever seen so many attendants in a wedding.” He folded her arm in his and led her into the vestibule, his voice soft with pride. “Wade’s a lucky fellow. Getting a second chance doesn’t happen for everyone.”

Clarissa ignored the shiver of worry his words ignited. She chose instead to concentrate on Tildy with Jared, then Lacey and Pierce, gliding down the aisle in the measured step Blair had shown them. Next came her closest friends, Briony and Blair, wearing their soft pink gowns.

Finally it was her turn. She glanced toward the front just once and caught sight of Wade, standing beside the pastor in a black suit that fitted him to a T. She saw his eyes widen in wonder at his first glance of her in her grandmother’s wedding dress. It was a Ginger Rogers style gown with layers and layers of sheer white silk falling away from the tiny pearl-studded bodice. It was the one thing Gran had left behind that Clarissa didn’t harbor the least bit of guilt in accepting.

Clarissa felt elegant, beautiful, desirable for the first time in her life. And it was all because of the very tall, very handsome groom who stood waiting for her with that crooked smile and that glittery look on his face. Was he as nervous as she?

Clarissa met Wade’s uncertain smile with one of her own, then nodded at Carston. “I’m ready,” she whispered and stepped out.

This was right. This was good.

This marriage would last. She just had to do her part.

“It was a nice wedding. They must think highly of you to have gone to so much work.” Wade tugged his bow tie off and tossed it into the back seat of her car. “I intended to change before we left, but somehow I never got time.”

She knew what he meant. All those last minute instructions for the kids had taken eons. But Bertie Manslow had insisted that the bride change into her going-away outfit and then toss the bouquet. Clarissa still wasn’t sure how it came about that Blair caught the huge sheaf of purple-blue spring iris. Could she have been thinking about her own cancelled wedding and about the fatherless little boy who waited at home for her?

“That’s quite an outfit, by the way. It’s very…” he thought for a moment. “Elegant,” he finally said.

“It is a little overdone, isn’t it?” Clarissa fingered the red shantung jacket with its neckline of frills. “But since it was a gift and I’ll only ever wear it this once, I suppose it doesn’t matter.”

“Oh.” Wade drove on, obviously unsure of how to continue the conversation. “Are you hungry? You didn’t eat much of the mountains of food they laid out.”

“I was too busy talking to everyone, I guess. It was kind of them to arrange it all.” Clarissa sighed, slipping her feet out of the stiletto heels that pinched, to rub them in the soft carpet.

“I can’t understand why anyone would ever want to go through that again.” Wade shook his head in disgust, his voice telling her he certainly hadn’t enjoyed it.

Clarissa felt the prick of tears and ordered herself to be sensible. “I’m sorry you didn’t like our wedding,” she said in a small voice.

“No! I didn’t mean…aw, shucks! I’ve spoiled it again, haven’t I.” He huffed out a sigh that told her reams about his state of mind, and in particular, his opinion of this wedding. “I can’t seem to say anything right today. I just meant that it was so busy. All those people, all those gifts to open! It seemed, well, overdone. Too busy. More like a public spectacle.”

“I’m so sorry. If you wanted a more private wedding, you should have said so. They’ve waited a long time to see me married. I guess they wanted to do it right. Especially after Harrison.” She was about to explain more about Harrison, but Wade cut her off.

“I do not want to hear another word about your first fiancé. I got an earful of him already.” His voice didn’t encourage her to continue. Neither did his face. It might have been chiseled from granite.

Her heart sank. Here they were, only hours married, and already they were arguing. She swallowed hard. Don’t be a burden on him, don’t weigh him down with your problems or he’ll hate you for it.

“I’m sorry, Clarissa.” The gruff apology barely carried over the boisterous voice of the radio deejay.

Without asking, Clarissa reached over and shut off the annoying sound. “It doesn’t matter,” she muttered, surreptitiously brushing away a tear.

She turned her head and stared out the window, wondering how and when this day would end. Her nerves were stretched so tight, she wanted to scream, but grabbed a handful of red shantung instead. “It really doesn’t matter.”

With a muttered epithet, Wade pulled over to the side, out of traffic, and brought the car to an abrupt halt.

“Yes, it does matter.” He shut off the engine, then reached out a hand to press her shoulder so she would turn around. “The only way we’re going to make it through this is to be truthful with each other. We can’t hide our feelings. Agreed?”

She nodded, but kept her eyes downcast.

“I liked the wedding. I especially liked your dress. You looked beautiful.” His right hand brushed across her hair, fingers rubbing it between them as if it were a fine silk.

She heard the funny catch in his voice and wondered why it was there. “It was my grandmother’s wedding dress. She always said she’d wanted my mother to wear it, but my parents eloped. I don’t think she would have minded.” Her own voice came out in a breathy whisper, but Clarissa ignored that because her heart had just speeded up to double time.

The fingers on his left hand closed over hers in a squeeze, then opened and threaded through hers so their hands were interlocked. She could feel his plain gold wedding band pressing against her knuckle and automatically rubbed at her own.

“It was gorgeous…you were gorgeous.” A tiny laugh came from low in his throat. “I guess I’m a little nervous. I’ve never been married before.”

“Neither have I.” She risked a glance up at him, and found him gazing down at her with a quizzical stare. “It was pretty rushed, wasn’t it?”

He shook his head slowly, his eyes burning into her with a steady flare glowing in their depths. “No. Actually it was perfect. All of it. You did a wonderful job.”

There was something in his voice, something she didn’t understand. But she couldn’t look away from him.

“Actually, I didn’t do any of it,” she babbled in a rush. “It was mostly Mrs. McLeigh….” Her voice died away, the words stuck in her throat. Nothing would come out when he kept looking at her like that.

“Clarissa?” His voice dropped to almost a whisper.

“Yes?”

“I’m going to kiss you.”

Clarissa blinked. How did she answer that? “Oh.”

“Do you mind?” His mouth moved nearer, his lips very close to hers, his breath, sweetly scented with the chocolate from their wedding cake mixing with the tang of the punch they’d toasted each other with.

Clarissa took a deep breath. “No,” she whispered. “I don’t mind.” She held her breath and closed her eyes as his mouth came down and grazed across hers. “Not at all.”

“Good.” There was the sound of laughter in his voice. “Then would you please kiss me back?”

She looked up at that, her eyes widening as she saw the caring in his face. He wanted this day to be special for her! That knowledge eased her fears and she slid her hands around his neck, nodding as she did.

“I’ll try. Though I’m not very good at kissing.” Yet, she amended silently. “But I can learn.”

Then Clarissa kissed him with all the pent-up emotion she’d kept so carefully in check during the many times their lips had met during the reception. This time there were no observers, and she tried to put her feelings for him into actions rather than words. If she was a little confused about exactly what those feelings were, well, he didn’t need to know that.

When the kiss ended, Wade’s hands dropped away from her with obvious regret.

“Is something wrong?” she whispered, aghast at her own nerve in kissing this man.

“Yes,” he nodded. “Something is definitely wrong with my brain.”

“P-pardon?” She straightened her jacket and pushed her hair back, conscious of the fact that he’d loosened the entire mass so badly that she couldn’t possibly get it back in order without a mirror and her brush.

“I must be nuts to be sitting here on the side of the road, kissing you with the whole world watching us.”

He jerked a hand toward the window and only then did Clarissa see the interested spectators craning their necks for a better look. Wade rolled his eyes, shook his head and then grinned at her ruefully.

“Shall we, Mrs. Featherhawk?” he asked, almost playfully.

“We shall.” She joined in without a second thought. “Drive on, Mr. Featherhawk.”

After that it was simple to stop for dinner at a small wayside restaurant, to find the campground where a cabin had been rented in their name, to drive through the overhanging boughs of spruce and cedar to a small log building nestled between two massive pines.

“It’s really lovely, isn’t it?” Clarissa stood on the porch and looked around at the beauty of God’s world shown to best advantage in the clear moonlight and a few strategically placed lights. “How kind of them to do this for us.”

She gasped when his hands caught her up against his chest, barely managing to stifle the shriek that would have alerted the other campers, wherever they were, to their presence.

“What are you doing?” she whispered loudly as he struggled to reach the doorknob. She leaned down and unlatched it with her free hand. The other one refused to move from its anchoring position against his neck.

“Carrying you over the threshold. Isn’t that what you were waiting for?”

“No!” Clarissa gasped as he lowered her to her feet, her face burning with color. “I never even thought of such a thing.”

“Well, I want to keep up with tradition,” he mumbled, his face darkening. “Isn’t that what all the hoopla was about earlier?” Then he turned and went back out the door.

Clarissa blinked and tried to pretend that she didn’t wonder if he was coming back. But her sigh of relief when he staggered in the door with their cases gave her away, if he’d been paying attention.

Which he wasn’t. In fact, as he closed the door on the cabin and surveyed the rustic interior, Wade tried to convince himself that he hadn’t noticed anything about his new wife at all. That project was not a success.

The gold band on her finger gleamed as if she’d spent the ride here polishing it. Her hair, loose and flowing down her back, just begged to be brushed until it once more resembled the sheet of burnished silver-gold that he’d glimpsed so many mornings. And that suit of hers—that blazing red drew attention like a fire engine.

Wade didn’t like what he was feeling. None of it. He wasn’t a family kind of guy. Deep down the stark truth was that Wade didn’t believe in families. He sure as shootin’ didn’t believe in his ability to manage one. He’d only done it out of necessity.

Maybe he should have told her that? Yeah, right. Before or after he kissed her?

“Is anything wrong, Wade?” Clarissa studied him with a tiny frown that pleated the porcelain skin between her elegant brows. “Is something the matter?”

“No. Yes. Uh…” Wade shook his head in disgust, trying to come up with a way to tell her. “That is, maybe you’d better sit down, Clarissa. There’s something we need to discuss.”

“All right.” Her voice was quiet, almost frightened. As if she expected the worst and needed to steel herself for it. She sat down across from him in the overstuffed recliner that almost swallowed her delicate body whole. Her hands settled primly in her lap, her chin tilted upward to receive the blow. “Go ahead.”

“It’s not anything bad,” he muttered, mentally kicking himself for spoiling the ambience. She deserved better. He forged on. “It’s just that I wanted us to understand one another right off.”

“You don’t have to tell me, you know. I am quite aware that this is what is called a marriage of convenience. And I’m quite willing to take the sofa.” She forced a timid smile to her lips, obviously striving to pretend that the little quaver in her voice wasn’t there.

“It’s not just that.” He flopped onto that sofa, squeezed his eyes closed and desperately searched for the right words. They weren’t there. “I’m not a family man, Clarissa. I’m too selfish, I guess. I spent a lot of time watching my parents’ marriage fail, and while it did I was responsible for my sister. I didn’t want her to see the ugliness when they were fighting, to hear the awful words.”

Clarissa nodded as she listened. “That’s perfectly natural,” she murmured, her head tilted to one side. “As a big brother, you must have been a wonderful friend.”

He shook his head. “Not really. I made her play the games I wanted to. She had to fall in with my wishes, because I was in charge. But that’s not it.” He chewed his lip in frustration. Why was this so hard to say? Wade thought for a moment, then started again.

“I hated the responsibility of it, you see. I wanted them to look after her, to make sure she was okay. There were so many things I wanted to do and she got in the way.” He shook his head. “I messed up so many times. Once I made her eat some berries and she was sick for a week.” One hand raked through his hair as he remembered her thin body shaking with the fever. “Anyway, my dad left. Uncle Carston probably told you that?”

She nodded.

“It was pretty rough then. I was the man of the house, but I did a lousy job of looking after my mom and Kendra. I couldn’t wait to dump them onto somebody else so I could go after my own dreams.” He stopped abruptly when he realized where this was going. No way was he digging into that now. He straightened his shoulders, drew in another breath and continued.

“Let’s just say it wasn’t any paradise. After Kendra got married, I finally felt free. I made up my mind then and there that I would never be tied down to anyone again. I never wanted the responsibility of someone else’s happiness.” He tried to read her. “Do you understand what I’m saying?”

“Yes, of course.” Clarissa nodded, her eyes clear and calm. “You don’t want to be accountable for my problems. You took the children on because you promised your sister, and you’ve done the best you could with them because you figured it was your duty. But it’s not the life you would have chosen for yourself. Close enough?”

She didn’t get it, not all of it anyway. But she was pretty close. Wade nodded slowly, rephrasing his thoughts. “Well, yes, but…”

She held up a hand. “Oh, I’m not finished yet. I’m not stupid, you know. I understand exactly what you’re saying, Wade Featherhawk. You think I’ll add to your responsibilities, that I’ll be even more of a burden on you. And you’re scared stiff. Is that about right?”

Wade gulped. Meek and mild little Clarissa Cartwright, no Featherhawk, had a lot more on the ball than he’d given her credit for. Now she’d made him feel like a jerk, which he probably was, for wanting to live his life without thinking about anyone else.

“Not scared, no.” He couldn’t let that go. “It’s just an awful lot for me to handle at one time, Clarissa. Four kids! Nobody has four kids in this two-point-five-family world. If they do, they get them one at a time!” He groaned at the selfish words that poured out of his own mouth.

I sound like a wimp. Wade shoved his head into his hands and dragged at the roots, trying to realign his topsy-turvy world.

“I love them, Clarissa. I do! But it’s hard to go from being independent to being a father of four, and then a husband. It’s gonna take me some time to adjust, that’s all I’m saying.” That sounded better, didn’t it? As if he just had a few issues to work through and then life would be rosy.

If it wasn’t the way he felt, she didn’t need to know that. After all, Clarissa was taking them all on and she wasn’t even related! She was going to have to adjust far more than he.

“What I’m trying to say is, don’t get too upset if I’m not very good at this. I’ll probably need a lot of practice before I come anywhere near being the kind of husband you deserve.”

She laughed at him! Wade could hardly believe that light, tinkling sound that shattered the tension in the room like a high note splintering a crystal goblet. He stared, frowning at the smile curling her lips.

“It goes both ways, Wade. I’ve never been a mother or a wife and now I’ve got to get used to all of you at once. At least you had months to train.” She got up and walked over to sit beside him. Her hand patted his. “I promise I won’t expect too much of you,” she said quietly. “We’ll learn as we go along. But please, don’t feel you have to be responsible for me. I’m an adult. I can look after myself. I can look after you and the kids too, if you’ll let me.”

Relief, pure, unadulterated relief washed over him. He didn’t have to be some kind of Superman or Romeo for her. She knew and understood. God had worked a miracle in this woman.

Wade leaned down and brushed his lips across her cheek. “Thank you,” he whispered with heartfelt emotion. “Thanks for understanding.”

She nodded, then got up and moved toward the other rooms. “Let’s have a look around, shall we? Then I wouldn’t mind going for a walk. I need to breathe fresh air.”

Wade managed to maintain her light-hearted approach to life for the rest of the evening. He made fishing jokes, teased her about leeches in the lake, insisted she take the bedroom and he the couch.

But late that night as he lay staring through the patio doors at the big moon outside, he wondered if he should have told her all of it. Maybe he should have made sure she knew that he would never love her.

Maybe Clarissa should know he couldn’t afford to love anyone. Not anymore. Everyone he loved died because he was too selfish to care for them when they needed him. Their pain was always his fault. It was also his secret.