Promises Prevail (The Promise Series) (9 page)

Jenna hid her hands in her bouquet. She hadn’t known.

“I told him white wasn’t appropriate for a second marriage.”

Mara laughed. “Bet he didn’t care.”

Jenna shook her head. “No.”

“You’ll find these McKinnely men don’t pay much heed to convention.”

Jenna gripped the bouquet harder, the stems biting into her palms.

“He said he’d never seen a woman more deserving to wear white.”

Mara smiled. “That’s another McKinnely trait. They see what they want.”

She felt like such a fraud. “I’m not innocent.”

Mara stopped fussing with the dress. “Jenna, I imagine Clint knows exactly who you are, and from the way he’s fidgeting at the altar, he’s anxious to have you as his.”

His. In a month of Sundays, she’d never get used to being Clint McKinnely’s. She just couldn’t wrap her mind around that anymore than she could conceive of Clint fidgeting.

“I wasn’t planning on getting married again,” Jenna confessed.

Mara bent to straighten the other side of Jenna’s train, her cinnamon eyes flashing with wry amusement. “Well, you’re one step ahead of me on my wedding day. I wasn’t planning on getting married at all.”

Jenna had heard rumors. “Is it true that Cougar compromised you?” Jenna wished the words back into her mouth as soon as they left. “I’m sorry. That was rude.” That was why she never spoke up. She always said the wrong thing.

Mara laughed and shook her head as she straightened.

“Pretty much. These McKinnely men can be very devious in getting their way.”

“They are persistent.”

“That, too.”

Mara stepped back and put her hands on her slender hips. “I think you’re ready.”

Jenna’s knees started to knock and she took another breath. She was never going to be ready.

A sharp rap on the door saved her from having to say anything, which was good, because panic had her too short of breath for words. Another knock at the door and Mara was in motion. Jenna couldn’t see who was behind the door or hear the conversation, but she didn’t need schooling to know people were beginning to wonder where the bride was. Her stomach knotted, knowing the delay would give the towns folk even more reason to whisper. Mara turned back to her.

“Ready?”

Jenna fought back a wave of nausea, took a slow breath, and nodded. Mara opened the door. Doc strode in, his hair for once smoothed flat, a smile on his kind face.

“Well now, it’s easy to see why Clint calls you Sunshine. You look like a bit of heavenly light in that dress.”

She’d been unsure about the style, but Mara and Elizabeth had been adamant about the cut of the bodice, which showed the tops of her breasts. They had ignored her protests until she’d had no choice but to go along. Now that the dress was fitted, she had to admit that it did make the most of her few assets, but just thinking about all those male guests seeing her in it caused another surge of nausea.

Doc grabbed her elbow as she swayed. “Are you all right?”

She shook off her weakness and put some starch in her spine. “I’m fine.”

“You look a far cry from fine.”

“It’s all this waiting,” she explained, holding out her hand. “It makes me nervous.”

The sooner this was over, the better she’d feel. She hoped.

Doc tucked her hand into the crook of his arm and patted it. “Then let’s get the waiting over with, ‘cause truth be told, if you don’t come down that aisle soon, Clint will be coming up it to fetch you.”

The door creaked as Mara slipped through.

“He’s that mad?” Jenna asked.

Doc sent her a look that went from confused to understanding in one blink.

“He’s that anxious.”

She doubted that.

Organ music swelled on a long building note. It was time. She took a breath and pasted a smile on her face. The shakes started as they always did when she was forced to be the center of attention. She knew Doc could feel her trembling by the sharp glance he cut her. She stared straight ahead as the organ started playing her wedding hymn. She would not shame Clint by acting the weakling on their wedding day.

Doc started forward. The three steps to the door passed much too quickly. She had a chance for another breath as Doc pulled the door open. She took it and held it. She could do this. Just one step at a time. That’s all she needed to do. Put one foot in front of the other, follow Doc’s lead, and in no time this would be over with. She made it as far as the top of the aisle before disaster struck. Someone had laid down a beautiful, white shimmery cloth on the aisle. Her slipper on her good leg slid. The unexpected weight on her bad leg sent a knifing pain through her thigh. She pulled up short, jerking Doc back, almost falling, holding back her groan through sheer force of will. There was a murmur in the crowd as she stood there unmoving. It took all her concentration to control the pain. When it faded, she was faced with a church full of curious attendees.

“Think she’s planning on leaving McKinnely at the altar?” she heard a man mumble.

“Might just be worth getting all decked out to see that,” another whispered back.

She glanced up. Ahead of her, there was nothing but a mass of people staring at her, judging her. Expecting the worst of her. At the end of the aisle stood Clint. His broad shoulders squared and straight. His expression impassive. She didn’t know what he thought, but as she stood there, the whispers around her piling up into rampant speculation, she could imagine. Inside, the tiny kernel of courage she’d been drawing from withered.

Cougar stood beside Clint, his impatience clear on his face. As her gaze touched his golden one, he shook his head, holding her gaze longer than was proper. His long black hair swung in punctuation to the jerk of his chin—a clear order to get moving. An order he expected to be obeyed.

But she couldn’t. God help her, she couldn’t. She couldn’t even release the breath she’d been holding as everything in her rushed toward panic.

Doc patted her hand. “Jenna?”

She shook her head, feeling the tightness pulling at her arms, closing off her breath. Oh God, not now. Please not now. She couldn’t do this to Clint. To herself. She couldn’t mess up her one shot at keeping Brianna.

The murmuring became a soft roar. Beside her, Doc was encouraging her to sit down, but she couldn’t do that either. She couldn’t sit and be married. She had to make it down the aisle. To Clint.

There was a louder murmur and then a sudden deafening, expectant silence. She looked up. Clint was coming toward her, his long hair flaring around his shoulders, his long legs eating up the distance between them. He didn’t look angry. He didn’t look anything. He just kept coming toward her. When he was close enough that she could see the slight lines fanning out from the corner of his eyes, she closed hers. Accepting the reality—it was over.

His, “Ah, Sunshine” reached her first and then his strong arms wrapped around her, pulling her into the solid strength of his chest, taking her weight off her legs and making it his responsibility.

“A little too much too soon?” he queried against her ear.

She nodded and gulped in a painful effort to respond. She hadn’t wanted to fail him.

“Shhh.” His lips brushed her ear, laid bare by her upswept hair. “I want you just to relax, Jenna.”

She tried to twist away. His lips brushed her temple. His left hand opened on the small of her back.

“No one can see, Sunshine, so I want you to rest here against me and find your breath.”

Easy for him to say. Her ribs heaved but nothing happened.

“Jenna, baby.” A down comforter wasn’t as soft as his deep voice at that moment. “I should be shot.”

For what?
she wondered with the one calm section of her brain. His fingers brushed the side of her cheek

“I should have known being on display would upset you.”

He shifted, pulling her closer with his hand on her spine so that her skirts wrapped around his boots. His lips brushed her cheek

“Breathe, baby. For me. Just once.”

She stiffened remembering the last time he’d said that. He pulled her a little closer, seeming to absorb her whole body into his as his laughter puffed against her ear.

“Ah, you remember that, do you?’

How could she forget?

“I promise you this time, baby, no pain. You just take this one tiny breath, and the rest will be a cake walk.”

Air wheezed in and choked out of her lungs while he just stood there as if the whole church full of witnesses didn’t matter and crooned nonsense in her ear. She tried to look under his arm to see what kind of spectacle they were making, but he wouldn’t allow it.

He tucked her head against his chest and said, “The only people who matter here are you and me, and I’m just fine with this.”

“She okay?”

That deep, slow drawl drew her chin up. Asa MacIntyre’s silver eyes met hers.

“She’s fine, but she could use a minute, if you could arrange it,” Clint answered, his voice too quiet for anyone else to hear. Asa winked at Jenna and on a “You got it” stood and sighed loud enough for everyone to hear.

“Wish I had me a girl who wanted a hug from me bad enough to hold up her wedding to get it.”

A slow trickle of laughter followed the pronouncement. Doc picked up the theme and ran with it.

“Heck. I tried to see Dorothy before the ceremony and she threw a shoe at me.”

“That might have been because we were late and I was getting dressed at the time!” Dorothy called to him.

“You’re a randy one, aren’t you Doc?” a male voice Jenna didn’t recognize teased good-naturedly.

“I’m not sure I want you treating my wife after hearing this!” another called.

“Ah heck, Jerome,” the first voice countered, “No offense to Fran, but she’s got more years on her than Old Ben’s dog. If Doc was going to get up to something funny, he’d pick someone else.”

“She’s a damned handsome woman to this day,” Jerome harrumphed.

Jenna, leaning against Clint, listened to the joking and smiled. Jerome was sixty if he was a day and dearly loved his plump wife. Everyone knew it. Growing up, Jenna had hoped to have a man look at her the way Jerome looked at Fran—as If the sun rose and the moon set in her eyes—but she’d long since outgrown that notion.

The jokes continued. A little of her tension eased.

“There’s my girl,” Clint whispered. His thick black hair brushed her cheeks and bare shoulders as his lips glided across her neck. She shivered at the strange sensation. Against her ear, she felt Clint’s smile.

“You let Asa do what he does best, and just concentrate on giving me that nice deep breath I asked for.”

Surprisingly, breathing was easier now, even though she was still standing in the middle of the aisle and everyone still watched.

Clint cupped her throat in his hand. “That’s it, Sunshine.”

His fingers stroked from her ear to her shoulder, launching a quivery sensation inside her.

“Look at me.”

She did. She always did what he said when he used that tone. His eyes were deep, black, fathomless, and totally compelling. His fingers curled until he was rubbing her throat with the back of his hand. It was the lightest of caresses. She felt it to the tips of her toes.