Safari Moon (18 page)

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Authors: Rogue Phoenix Press

Tags: #romance, #contemporary

BOOK: Safari Moon
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So they did
know
.

 

Solo stuffed his hands in his pockets.

 

“Nyssa’s a real trooper, going through the
ceremony and all.”

 

Yeah, Nyssa was the best. Is the best. Solo
relaxed and wished there was some way to pay Nyssa back for what
she had done and would do. But of course there wasn’t. And he knew
he hurt Nyssa--badly. He just didn’t know how to fix the
damage.

 

When Solo set his drink down, he signaled
the end of the evening. He felt mellow, and very contented. As to
how he felt about the wedding, he couldn’t be happier.

 

The three of them rose, their strides a slow
lumber as they made their way to the tent the Colonel had flown in
for their private use. The girls would use the loft bedroom and his
grandparents would travel back to the trading post.

 

“Well.” Michael draped an arm around Solo,
“here’s to the bachelor who’s about to marry a special girl
tomorrow and has already made plans for the annulment.” They
hugged, all three of them, and laughed at the humor of the
situation.

 

But Solo didn’t feel like laughing. The
thought of the dissolution of his marriage brought a lump to his
throat. He felt as if his friends had cut through his heart.

 

“What’s that?”

 

“What’s what?” David asked.

 

“Your imagination. City people are always
jumpy,” Solo said.

 

“It might be one of the girls in a futile
attempt to crash the bachelor’s party,” Michael said.

 

“In your wildest dreams old boy.” David
glanced around the porch. “No one, not a soul.”

 

“In all seriousness, I hope the wedding and
the divorce work out. If I were you, I wouldn’t want to be stuck
with Nyssa for the rest of my life. Miss prim and proper,” Michael
said.

 

“The ice maiden. Didn’t she leave New York
under unusual circumstances? Couldn’t take the heat?” David asked
suddenly.

 

“I heard she had a nervous breakdown.”
Michael said as he sipped the last of his brew.

 

Nyssa deserved better than this petty
gossip. They sounded like a bunch of old men with nothing better to
do than sit around with checkerboards in front of them while they
spread rumors. Anger swept through Solo. Even though he had always
been the one to keep his temper in check, the one who cooled all
the male hormones that blazed from time-to-time, Solo had the
overwhelming urge to flatten Michael Fitsimmons' nose.

 

“I heard she had an affair. The guy dumped
her for a lady that didn’t have quite as much starch in--”

 

That did the trick. Before Solo had time to
consider the consequences, he’d grabbed Michael by the front of his
shirt and slammed him against a tall tree.

 

That got their attention.

 

Solo didn’t hit Michael but he swung him
around until he could see both his friends. Furious, and frustrated
from the last few days so close yet so far away from Nyssa, Solo
did all he could do to hold his temper in check.

 

David held up his hands, looking as if he
enjoyed this. Michael’s hands hung limp at his side. “I didn’t mean
anything. We always joke about Nyssa and you know she
understands.”

 

“Not anymore. You don’t joke about her and
if you don’t have something nice to say about her then don’t
talk.”

 

“Michael gets the picture,” David said. “I
know I do. Come on, now that we understand each other let’s forget
what happened. There’s a wedding here tomorrow and I for one don’t
want to miss the ceremony.”

 

***

 

Before the men finished their conversation,
Nyssa walked away from the porch dazed and numb. The sound of their
voices and their taunts pounded in her head so she kept her strides
long and brisk. Oh, how close they’d come to the truth.

 

“Miss prim and proper. A nervous breakdown,”
she said absently. “An affair.”

 

She escaped her friends and their jokes in
search of space and time. The solace the outdoors offered acted as
a healing bomb on her frayed nerves.

 

“An affair--couldn’t take the heat.

 

An affair was the farthest notion from the
truth she’d heard in a long time. Prim and proper had been one of
her nicknames in the city just as it had been in college. Too
stuffy to handle another. All the men wanted was a quick lay and
they expected every female to oblige. But not the ice maiden.
Robert appreciated her morals. So what did she care what Solo and
his friends thought of her?

 

That was just the point. She did care --a
lot. It mattered to her what Solo thought and that he’d never
compromise her.

 

He’d never been attracted to her before and
if the conversation with his friends held any merit, he still
wasn’t attracted to her. With that realization a slow crawl of pain
lumbered through her, eating at her.

 

“This doesn’t change anything,” she said.
“Tomorrow I’ll tell Sarah the truth and we’ll call the wedding
off.”

Chapter
Nine

 

 

It rained. No poured. Well, what else could
go wrong? The weather was a minor problem compared to the other
obstacles. Her wedding dress still hung on the door of the tiny
closet, and Sarah stood by the gown while she hummed and rearranged
the folds.

 

A crack of lightning momentarily brightened
the room, the flash blinding, the rumble deafening. It had to be
the gods that complained. No one should marry under these
circumstances.

 

Sarah didn’t look the least bit sick. When
Nyssa turned to face Sarah, she held some kind of orange concoction
in her hand and a champagne bottle sat on the table next to the
window.

 

“Sarah? I--” She moistened her lips. Every
good intention she had of stopping the ceremony dissolved. The
pause too long and too stilted. She didn’t know what to say.
“I--”

 

“What dear?”

 

Sarah beamed and her eyes twinkled. She
brushed at an imaginary dust mote floating in the air.

 

“What time is it?”

 

“Oh, nearly ten-thirty. Reverend Thomas will
be here in two hours. Do you think that’s enough time to get
ready?”

 

Nyssa slumped back in the bed and covered
her eyes with her arm. She didn’t want to think about dressing, nor
did she want to go through with the ceremony. When she decided last
night she would tell Sarah the truth, she didn’t know she’d wake up
with Sarah in her room--humming.

 

Now the rain didn’t pour but pounded. A
torrent of water slid down the gutters and across the window panes,
all the carefully arranged decorations--soggy. That was apropos.
This whole affair had floundered from the start. Perhaps if she
kept her eyes closed, the nightmare would vanish.

 

“We moved the white bells and the orchids
onto the porch.” Sarah fluttered around the room and pushed the
curtains aside, letting in more of the dreary weather. “The men
attached tarps to the roof hoping we’ll stay dry for the
ceremony.”

 

Nyssa groaned then rolled over to her
stomach. She hugged a wilted pillow to her chest in search of
comfort. The quilt nearly covered her head, but not quite, so she
was tempted to burrow deeper. Solo’s grandmother had other
ideas.

 

“Come on. Wake up, sleepy head. Your friends
are in the kitchen, busy with lunch for after the ceremony. I
brought in a couple of muffins and a glass of orange juice for you.
Oh, I’m so excited. If you’re half as euphoric as I am, you won’t
be able to eat a thing. On my wedding day I had the worst jitters.
Why, I thought a whole swarm of butterflies flitted about inside my
stomach. And you know what? My mother wouldn’t tell me anything
about the wedding night. She said it was the bridegroom’s place.
Well, I don’t believe in that nonsense. Go ahead Nyssa. Since your
mother isn’t alive and can’t be here, I’d like to take her place.
If you don’t mind, that is.”

 

Sarah tugged at the corner of the quilt.
Nyssa tugged back. The quilt sagged and Nyssa assumed, or perhaps
hoped was a better description of what she thought, that Sarah had
gone away.

 

“We were worried about your brother. But his
plane arrived safe and sound, thunder storm and all. He’s outside
with Solo’s friends, setting up the tarp.”

 

Nyssa gave up. Her brother. What had she
done? What was she about to do?

 

Sarah clapped her hands together. “This is
the best day of my life.”

 

“Nyssa,” Solo’s voice stopped Sarah’s
fluttering and they both looked at the door.

 

“What do you want? You’re not supposed to
see the bride before the wedding, Solo St. John. Now scoot. Do you
hear me? Scoot!”

 

“I don’t want to see her. Well, I do, but
her brother is outside. He insists on talking to her before she
walks down the aisle. Won’t take no for an answer.”

 

“Tell him he can’t talk to Nyssa. She’s in
the bathtub.”

 

Nyssa felt her mouth drop open. She’d never
heard Sarah speak to her grandson in such a curt, abrupt way.

 

“Sarah--I’d like to see Jon.”

 

A conversation with her brother wouldn’t be
easy. Jon had never cared for Solo or the way she tagged along like
a little puppy dog on Solo’s adventures. Jon thought Solo took
awful advantage of her, but Solo didn’t. How can you take advantage
of someone who races into every situation with her eyes wide open,
and is always given at least half a chance to say no?

 

Before she had time to inhale a ragged
breath, Jon stood in the doorway. And he wasn’t smiling. Nyssa put
on the robe Sarah handed her.

 

“I’ll be back in five minutes,” Sarah said
then stepped around Jon.

 

“She’s a sprightly thing.”

 

Jon watched Sarah for a second before he
turned back to the room. “Do you intend to go through with
this?”

 

How did she tell her brother yes, she wanted
to marry a man who never looked twice at her except when he needed
something. How could she tell Jon that only seconds before he
barged in, she’d had every intention of telling Sarah the truth in
order to stop the wedding.

 

“Sarah’s dying.”

 

Jon looked askance. “That’s bull.”

 

“She is. The Colonel, well I know she
doesn’t look sick but before she heard about the wedding she was in
the hospital. The Colonel told me she might only have a few months
to live.”

 

“And you believed him?”

 

Jon stepped farther into the room. He pulled
up a chair and straddled the seat then leaning on the back he
waited.

 

“I had no reason not to.” Nyssa shifted
uncomfortably.

 

“No, I suppose not. The last thing Colonel
St. John would endorse would be a marriage between you and his
grandson. He’s never thought you were good enough for Solo. But for
that matter, the opposite is true. I’ve known you were too good for
that man since the first time I met him.”

 

“I have to do this for Solo.”

 

Jon smiled grimly. “If you’re set on this, I
know I can’t change your mind. You always were stubborn. But
remember a marriage is for real--for a lifetime. That must be Sarah
and if I don’t leave, she’ll break the door down. Good luck, sis.”
He bent over and gave her a brotherly kiss on the cheek.

 

***

 

The rain did stop for the short ceremony,
sunshine filtering through the foggy mist momentarily. To Nyssa,
everyone looked subdued, unhappy, except the grandparents.

 

Her legs trembled so hard, she knew the only
way she would remain on her feet was to hold on tight to Solo. She
couldn’t look at her friends or Jon. Focused on Reverend Thomas,
her thoughts in a daze, the words to the ceremony and her replies
passed her by, one after the other.

 

When the minister told Solo to kiss the
bride, Nyssa heard a clap behind her and knew without looking the
noise came from Sarah. At least one person was pleased.

 

Solo looked pained when he bent to kiss her.
The slight brush of his lips against hers left her breathless and
wanting. Only a few hours ago, he’d almost made love to her. Yet if
that kiss meant anything, his lack of enthusiasm loudly proclaimed
he regretted everything that had transpired between them.

 

She reminded herself this marriage of
convenience would soon be terminated. Her instincts screamed out to
her to build a solid barrier between her heart and Solo St.
John.

 

Just as they started down what couldn’t
remotely be called an aisle, the sky opened and the rain poured
once again. The tension simmering among the guests was released in
one gigantic sigh. All her tightly leased emotions erupted in a
stifled giggle.

 

Even though they walked arm in arm, Solo
brought his free hand to hers and squeezed her fingers
reassuringly. It was only ten feet to the reception area the men
hastily constructed the day before, but it seemed a mile.

 

When they stood beneath the tent and she saw
the food laden tables, Nyssa suddenly realized she was Mrs. Solo
St. John, at least for a few weeks.

 

Nyssa smiled with a new-found confidence.
The receiving line was short, thank goodness. She accepted kisses
on the cheek from her brother and Solo’s friends then hugs from
April and Candace. Sarah stood beside her beaming and somehow Nyssa
felt right about the wedding and the marriage.

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