Promises Prevail (The Promise Series) (60 page)

“Because he’s been watching you ever since and Asa never lies.”

You were always meant to be mine.

She tried to get used to the expanse of neckline, tracing it with her finger, imagining Clint’s reaction if she did it in front of him. He would love it if it were in the privacy of their bedroom, but at a social?

“I can’t wear this.”

“You have to wear that,” Dorothy countered. “You have to wear that dress to the social, and you have to smile and dance and have the time of your life with every man who asks you to dance.”

“Why?”

“Because the only way to get a man to face what he’s feeling is to give him a taste of what he might lose.”

“You want me to trick Clint?”

“New brides,” Millicent muttered.

“Think of it more as opening his eyes,” Pearl suggested.

Jenna recalled the honesty and emotion in Clint’s dark eyes as he held her through her fears. The tenderness of his touch. The surety in his voice as he said, “I see you, Sunshine.”

And she saw him too. His pride. His honor. His need.

“No.”

“It’s the quickest means to an end,” Elizabeth pointed out.

“That doesn’t make it right.” And hurting Clint would never be right.

“Doesn’t make it wrong, either,” Millicent put in. “Just another path to where you want to go.

Jenna had had a belly full of people taking her down paths that her instincts said were wrong.

“It would upset him.”

“Won’t be the first time he’s been upset,” Mara offered. “And it would only be for a minute.”

A minute would be too long to inflict that type of pain on someone.

“I won’t do that to him.”

“Well damn,” Millicent muttered. “Now we’ll have to use the boring backup plan.”

“What’s that?”

“Just walk up and flat out ask the man.”

Jenna took a sip of the foul whiskey, shuddering as the taste filled her mouth.

Maybe wearing the dress wasn’t such a bad idea.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Jenna blinked as she stepped out of the dress shop into the bright sunlight.

Bri turned her face into her neck and whimpered. Jenna pulled the little one’s bonnet down to shield her eyes even as she pulled the thick blanket up higher over her head against the biting cold.

“I think winter will be cold this year,” Mara said, waiting by the edge of the wooden walk so they could head over to the bakery.

“It sure feels like it,” Jenna hurried to catch up, “but no matter what, Clint’s house will be a lot warmer than my previous ones.”

“Clint had that place sealed six ways to Sunday after he bought it.”

Jenna patted Bri’s back. She was overdue for her nap and beginning to fuss.

“He’s like that.”

Mara cast her a sidelong glance. “I think it was more than that.”

“Oh.”

“Said he didn’t like the thought of his wife freezing.”

“I forgot about the great wife hunt.”

She’d deliberately put it as far from her mind as possible.

“I think he had someone specific in mind.”

“Oh.”

Mara gave her a shove on her arm. “You silly.”

“I was married!”

“We were all painfully aware of that. Especially whenever Clint would see you shivering about town in that old cloak, and Hennesey would be in that saloon gambling and drinking. There were times when Cougar worried that Clint would lose it.”

“Clint hates injustice.”

“Clint hated not having the right to protect you,” Mara said, pulling up short as the barber/dentist shop door swung opened. A man stumbled out, holding his jaw. He nodded to them both, winced, and stepped off the walkway.

Jenna followed his uneven walk as he crossed the frozen, rutted street.

“I’m so glad my teeth are good.”

Mara echoed her shudder. “You and me both, but if that was an attempt to change the subject, it’s not working.”

“I wasn’t trying to change the subject.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Frankly,” Mara continued down the walk, rubbing her hands together against the chill, “we were all surprised when Clint didn’t start courting you the day after Hennesey died.”

“That wouldn’t have been proper.”

Mara held her hair out of her face. “I’ve never known Clint to be overly concerned with propriety when he wanted something.”

Neither had Jenna, truth be told.

Mara reached over and tucked the blanket under Bri’s shoulder, making a face at the little girl as she did. When she straightened, her expression was completely serious.

“And he wanted you, Jenna. Don’t ever doubt that.”

He wanted you.
The words echoed in Jenna’s head, giving birth to that hope that battled common sense.

“Wanting isn’t loving.”

“To a McKinnely it is.” Mara said that with the certainty of a preacher declaring sin.

“There are things you don’t know that effect Clint’s feelings.”

“Bullshit.” Mara stopped and turned, her fingers on Jenna’s cloak, catching her arm, forcing her to stop and look at her.

“Clint and Cougar are as close as brothers, share the same values and have that McKinnely tenacity to a fault so I know, absolutely know, there is nothing in your past, present, or future that can ever turn that man from your side.”

“Cougar loves you.”

“And Clint loves you.” There wasn’t a smidgeon of doubt in her tone. “I know everyone’s been giving you well-meaning advice and I’m probably no more welcome than the rest, but my guess is that whatever kept Clint from claiming you immediately, is the same thing holding him back from saying that he loves you.”

An interesting theory but so damned unlikely.

“He could just not love me.”

Jenna stepped to the left as the mercantile door jangled a warning. Mara stepped right with her, chin coming up in a way that screamed stubborn.

“He loves you.”

She wanted to believe that so damned much.

“Mrs. Hennesey,” a woman’s voice interrupted. “Could I have a moment?”

Jenna had heard that cold, controlled voice too many times not to tense as it came from behind her. Meetings with the mayor’s wife were never pleasant. Today when her nerves were stretched tight and her stomach nauseated, promised to be worse than usual. She turned, nodding to the taller, well dressed woman standing just outside the mercantile door.

“Good afternoon, Mrs. Salisbury.”

“Afternoon Shirley.” Mara nodded, demonstrating none of Jenna’s instinctive deference. “And that would be Mrs. McKinnely now.”

With a nod so slight it didn’t even disturb the garish bird perched in the turned up brim of her lavish hat, Shirley acknowledged Mara, “So I heard.”

The sniff that punctuated that remark conveyed as strongly as the bitter lines beside her thin mouth just how she felt about Jenna’s marriage.

“I hope you don’t expect to immediately become part of our community just because you married Clint McKinnely.”

Jenna’s stomach churned acid. She hated confrontations like this. Bri, sensing her tension began to whimper. Her, “Of course not,” was drowned out by Mara’s, “She’s already part of our community.”

“Hardly.” The look Shirley shot Mara contained more venom than politeness. “And if you continue to be seen in her company, you may find your own tenuous position threatened.”

Jenna closed her eyes briefly against the waves of hostility battering them. She tried to edge between Mara and the woman, to deflect some of her anger. It was a waste of effort. While she’d heard tell of Mara’s temper, she’d never actually believed the tiny woman capable of even a harsh word.

She’d been wrong.

With an, “Excuse me,” that had Jenna blinking twice at its coldness, Mara stepped in front of her. She didn’t stop there, either. She went two steps further, until the hem of her fashionable green dress pushed aside the hem of Shirley’s matronly navy blue one.

“Did you just threaten me?”

The question was asked in a flat monotone that was eerily calm for all the energy it contained. Jenna wasn’t surprised when Shirley inched toward the edge of the walk. Mara was a very scary woman when riled. And she was riled. Her cinnamon colored eyes seemed to glow in her tight face as she matched Shirley step for step.

“Did you?”

“I merely pointed out the facts.”

Jenna touched Mara’s arm while trying to gently bounce Bri from her own bad mood.

“Mara, it’s okay.”

Mara’s chin came up and her shoulders squared.

“Like hell it is.” She never took her eyes off of Shirley.

“Let me point out a few facts of my own, Mrs. Salisbury. Jenna is a McKinnely. We are thrilled to have her in the family and any slight against her is a slight against us all.”

“All, meaning you?” Shirley sneered, disdain dripping from every pore. “A whore from the most notorious whorehouse in the territory? I’m supposed to worry about offending you?”

The twitch in Mara’s fingers gave away the fact that the shot had found its mark, and the panic in Jenna’s stomach solidified to a hard knot of anger that exploded outward in violent driving waves.

“How dare you say something so filthy.”

Shirley didn’t even blink. “It’s the truth and no amount of whitewashing will remove the stench.”

Mara leapt forward. Jenna caught her arm and shoved her behind her, advancing on Shirley, fury battling with reason.

“You vindictive, evil woman. You are so twisted with jealousy, you think you’re entitled to spew your venom everywhere.”

Jenna stepped closer, forcing the woman back, for once glad of her size.

“But it’s not. It’s not okay at all. I’ve let you spew on me for years because I felt sorry for you, always trying to put the best face forward when you had to be so unhappy the way your husband treated you, and because, quite frankly, I thought I was somehow deserving. But you will not,” she shoved her face in Shirley’s, so close that she could see the fine grains of powder she used on her complexion, “ever say a word against me or mine again.”

“Or what?” Shirley snapped, not totally backing down.

She was never so glad for her years with Jack. One thing she knew was how to deliver a threat. She lowered her voice, settled her weight onto her feet and smiled the coldest smile she knew how to imitate.

“Or I’ll use every evil, twisted, painful torture my dead husband taught me to make you scream with regret.”