The Cowboy’s Bride by Donna Alward

9

The wedding day dawned clear, with a light blue sky sparsely dotted with fluffy white clouds. Alex woke at six. She’d retired early the night before, and instead of taking advantage, she knew she had to get up and help Johanna get things ready before she dressed in her gown.

Quietly she slipped from her room and down the hall to the bathroom. She wanted to avoid Connor at all costs this morning. It had nothing to do with it being bad luck seeing the bride but more about keeping a level head. It would be all too easy to let the romance of the day sweep her away. What she needed to do was make sure everything was in readiness for the guests. Make it seem real. She ran hot water and washed her face and brushed her teeth before tiptoeing back to her room to get dressed.

Connor heard her shuffling about and slipped out of bed. He’d been awake since four, but had stayed beneath the sheets, thinking. It had nothing to do with habits and everything to do with getting married today. Getting married to Alex.

He pulled on a pair of jeans, remembering the promises she’d made him. She tried hard, he could see that. She wanted to make things right for him, and for the life of him he couldn’t figure out why. What made him so special? He was nothing more than a rancher trying to keep afloat.

Her eyes had held a suspicious sheen last night and he’d thought for a moment or two that she was going to cry. But not Alex. He saw now she was strong, practical. The kind of woman who would face whatever needed facing without histrionics and tissues. The more he knew her, the more he respected her. And the more he found himself daydreaming about her prairie sky-blue eyes and the dark waterfall of her hair.

He swung out of bed, hurriedly pulling on a pair of faded jeans. There was something he needed to take care of, something that had kept him awake in the pale, sun-washed hours of dawn.

He heard her footsteps echo softly to the bathroom down the hall, and he slipped into her room to wait.

When she came back, his heart stopped at the sight she made. Her footsteps halted in surprise, seeing him sitting on the rumpled coverlet of the bed. In no more than a second, he saw her tousled hair falling over her shoulders, the pristine white pyjama set that accented the fullness of her breasts and the growing bump at her midsection, and which ended mid-thigh, revealing shapely legs and pretty, dainty feet. The sight of her, fresh from her still-warm bed, made his heart stop.

“G…Good morning,” she stuttered in surprise.

At her appearance, he rose, wiping his palms against the thighs of his jeans nervously. “I heard you get up. I hope that’s okay.”

“Why wouldn’t it be?”

“You’re the one standing in the doorway like you’re afraid to come in any further.”

She was afraid. Thoughts of Connor had dominated her dreams and he had been the first thing she’d thought of upon waking. For him to be here, now in the quiet morning hours, seemed so…intimate.

She abruptly realized that she was standing in the white maternity pyjamas which fell a bit shy of modest. Heat flooded her cheeks and down her neck.

He was waiting and she went the rest of the way in. He took a few steps so that they were scant inches apart.

“What are you doing here?” she whispered, keeping her voice low.

He stepped even closer, so close she had to tilt her neck to look into his face, feeling the heat of his body radiating through the thin cotton she wore.

"Today is the big day," he whispered huskily.

Her head dropped so he couldn’t see how flustered she became at the thought. "Everything is ready."

His hand found hers, and he squeezed her fingers. "Except for one thing."

Her eyes darted to his in confusion. This was feeling distinctly like romance and after having him haunt her dreams she had little defence against him. As she gazed into his face his eyes darkened with something she didn’t understand. But when he held her hand that way and looked deeply into her eyes, her brain simply turned off and she started to babble.

"I can’t see how anything is missing. We’ve seen to the cake, the flowers, the minister...."

"Alex."

She stopped talking and only stared, letting intimacy surround them in the silence. A jolt flashed through her entire body every time he said her name in that way, and in admitting it called herself ten times the fool. This wasn’t part of the plan at all. She was far more comfortable dealing with Connor when he was being practical and realistic. The memory of saying their promises to each other last night echoed through her brain. It had been a turning point, she realized. For both of them. They’d spoken from their hearts—and she couldn’t speak for Connor, but voicing their intentions had made one thing crystal clear to Alex. She loved him. But this was a marriage of convenience only, and her girlish fancies were only serving as a terrible distraction. She had to remember why they were doing this. She had to remember that they needed to stay only friends if she were to come out of this with her heart intact.

"I’m a bit nervous, that’s all." Her eyes fell on the closet, where even now, her wedding dress hung, white perfection. She felt unworthy of it. Unworthy of him. It was meant to be a symbol of purity, but there was nothing pure about Alexis Grayson. Impoverished, uneducated, pregnant Alex.

In a few short hours she’d be wearing it, carrying a bouquet of roses and gardenia. It seemed like a wild, crazy dream.

"Me too."

His admission, instead of relaxing her, made her fingers curl with tension. Good God, one of them being jittery was bad enough. She’d been counting on him to keep a level head through all of this. She reminded herself yet again why she was doing it. Security had been something she’d always craved, and now she knew she was going to be responsible for another life. She owed it to her child. This was all he’d asked of her. It wasn’t much; it was too much.

Her hand drifted to her stomach and rested against the small mound there. His eyes softened as he placed his own hand, strong and warm, on top of hers.

"He’s growing."

She swallowed and somehow managed to get out, "Every day."

She closed her eyes at the warmth of his hand seeping through her pyjamas and into her core. In the time she’d been here, he’d never touched her in such a way, or expressed an intimate interest in the life growing within her. The bubble of her belly was firm and taut and when she opened her eyes, his were shining down at her. He understood, she realized. In that moment, with his hand warm on the life she carried…for the first time, she wished in her heart that this baby was his. He would be a wonderful father.

He cleared his throat as he removed his hand. "Are you wondering why I’m here?"

Without his touch her skin cooled, leaving her empty. She couldn’t get used to that feeling, then. She’d miss it far too much when it was gone.

“Is there something we forgot?”

The hand that had touched her stomach slid up and cupped her neck gently, drawing her forward as her heart thundered. What was he doing? In all their days here together, the closest they’d been was that night in his office, and that had been comfort. This didn’t feel like comfort. It felt like…passion. Her body trembled beneath his hand. She wasn’t prepared for passion. She wasn’t prepared for what that might mean. This had to be about maintaining a friendly relationship, so no one got hurt at the end. Why was he pulling her close, his gaze fixed on her lips?

"In a few short hours," he murmured, "we’ll share our first kiss as husband and wife." His other hand lifted to slide under the hair at her neck. "I don’t want our very first kiss to be in front of our guests. Private is much better, don’t you think?"

"You...I... Oh dear."

"I’d like to get it out of the way now," he said, and bent his head.

Her breath slid out, shaky and scared. "Connor," she started to protest weakly, "I don’t..." If he kissed her now, she’d be lost completely.

He erased whatever came out next by placing his lips gently on hers.

His lips were warm and soft, and she let go of all her fears and misgivings and kissed him back. Greedily she tasted him, her heart leaping as his lips opened and invited her in. Still, he was soft, patient, and devastating, as his mouth slid from hers and dropped fleeting kisses on her cheeks, her eyes, the tip of her ear. Oh goodness, this was no “you may kiss the bride” kiss. This was a “give me five minutes and I’ll have you in bed” kiss and her knees turned to jelly at the thought of the still-warm bed only a few feet behind them. He caught her weight in his arms. Only when she heard herself moan did his mouth return to hers, consuming, leaving her full, then emptying her completely. Heaven. Heaven had to be being kissed by Connor Madsen.

Her arms lifted and wound around his neck and she pressed herself closer to him, feeling the buffer of the baby between them. She’d never been the kind of woman to dwell on what could never be, not until the baby and Connor. Being with him, close to the life she’d always wanted and never had…something had changed inside her, stopped her from running from feelings and memories and made her sentimental and wistful. At this moment, with his lips warm and loving on hers, she felt the shadow of the girl she’d been in the woman she’d become, and knew the bittersweet pain of wanting what could never be. They had said they would be friends, and it had worked well until today. But from this day forward they would be married, in name only. And with shattering tenderness, she tried to wordlessly show him that she would give him everything, if he’d only take it.

Breathing heavily, he pulled away, putting his hands firmly on Alex’s shoulders. “God, I’m sorry. I didn’t intend for that to happen.”

Alex stepped away from his touch, the hands that were still burning fire through her skin. Her body was strangely weightless, humming like a plucked string.

“Me either.”

Silence fell, heavy with implications. Because neither of them was saying it was a mistake. Or expressing regret. Or promising it would never happen again.

“I should go help with chores, since I’m already up.”

He made it to the door before he turned back. “Alex?”

“Yes?”

She kept her back to him. She didn’t dare face him right now, not with what she knew was nothing other than naked longing on her face, and she incapable of hiding it.

“You’re going to make a beautiful bride.”

He escaped downstairs while she pressed her fingers to her tingling lips.

* * *

By two o’clock,Johanna shooed Alex out of the way. “Everything is ready, and Millie’s on her way over with the food. Go start getting ready. I’ve a surprise coming for you in half an hour.”

Alex halted halfway to the stairs. “A surprise? But you’ve done too much already.”

“Hush. Go run yourself a bubble bath.”

“Yes, boss,” Alex grumbled. Everything was ready…but Alex had never met most of the guests coming today. She wanted everything to be perfect.

If a month ago anyone had told her she’d be soaking in a tub of scented bubbles, preparing for her wedding, she would have had a good laugh. Now she wasn’t laughing. Her body was a bundle of nerves. Suddenly this whole marriage thing had changed…since that kiss this morning.

She was sure it had meant more to her than to him. After all, it was easy to get swept away by desire, and she couldn’t blame him for that. But as far as deeper feelings… Connor was marrying her to save Windover. She must not forget that. She could feel all she wanted but she couldn’t let herself act on it again. If she did, she risked her heart truly being involved, and her heart was already damaged. She’d lost enough. If she could care less, she wouldn’t lose as big. Right now she had to think damage control.

Stepping out of the bubbles, she wrapped a thick blue towel around herself and stared in the mirror. Today she was a bride. After tonight she would be Alex Madsen, Connor’s wife. Johanna would go home, no longer chaperoning and running interference. And she and Connor would still be sleeping in separate bedrooms.

She dried her hair, letting the natural curl spring free in the silky locks. Her make up she’d do last, at her dressing table. She slipped from the bathroom into her room.

There was no maid of honour to help her get ready today. Instead she was alone, and strangely she preferred it that way. Away from probing eyes and questions, away from the expected teasing and innuendoes so typical of weddings.

Johanna was downstairs, talking to her friend Millie, the rattle of dishes and happy chatter syncopating the air. Steps came up the stairs, heavy ones. She waited, wrapped only in her towel. Drawers opened and closed with muffled thuds in Connor’s room. Yes, things had changed. Even knowing he was on the other side of the wall and that she was standing nearly naked in a towel had her pulse leaping erratically in her throat. Girlish fantasies, she chided herself. Get a grip, girl. She frowned into the mirror.

Maybe it was just wedding fever. Weddings did strange things to people.

The shower started and she tried not to imagine him standing beneath the hot spray.

Dropping the towel, she dressed in the undergarments she’d bought for today. They weren’t expensive or even very fancy, but ordinary white cotton panties with a swatch of lace at each hip, and a strapless bra, necessary for her growing breasts. She smiled at her reflection. She’d always wanted bigger breasts—but getting pregnant wasn’t exactly how she’d planned on getting them.

Soberly she pulled on pantyhose—the control top type for this one day, to minimize the bulge at her waist. She took the satin and organza creation from the white bag and stepped into it.

She was struggling with the last three inches of zipper when a knock sounded at the door. “Who is it?” she called. If it were Connor, there was no way she was opening it. The last thing they needed today was bad luck.

“It’s Johanna. With your surprise.”

Alex opened the door a crack. “Okay. You can come in. I need help with my zipper anyway.”

Johanna laughed coming in, another younger, absolutely gorgeous woman with her. “Alex, this is Carmen. She’s here to fix your hair and makeup.”

Alex beamed, holding out a hand. “Nice to meet you. Especially nice since I’m not very good at either hair or makeup.”

Carmen smiled. “Your hair is much like mine. Where’s your headpiece?”

Johanna connected the hook and eye clasp at the back of the dress. “It’s over there, on the bed.” She turned Alex to face her. “That dress is perfect. I’ll be back after I’ve dressed. With one more thing.”

When Johanna returned, Alex was getting her lips painted. With one last brush, Carmen stood back. “There. You are perfect.”

Alex rose, looked in the mirror, and wanted to cry.

Her eyes were large and somehow more luminous than she could have imagined, while her skin appeared dewy and flawless. Her lips were etched and painted with a colour very close to her natural pigment, and her hair was pulled back gently from the sides, the remainder curling simply down her back. The small circlet of flowers sat daintily on her head, a thin, filmy veil drifting to her waist.

“I look like a bride.” She touched a finger to her cheek that glistened with something like glitter. Oh, she’d tried desperately to avoid feeling like a fairy tale princess, to stay grounded and realistic. Now her stomach danced with the thought of walking to Connor’s side looking this way. What would he think? A flush crept up her neck. After the demonstration she’d put on this morning, he would certainly think she meant this to be a real wedding.

“A very beautiful one,” Johanna whispered, and Alex spun to see tears in Johanna’s eyes. “Connor won’t know what to do with himself.”

Alex laughed. After this morning, she knew that Connor would know exactly what to do with himself. But she was pleased, more than pleased, with her appearance. “Thank you so much,” she said to Carmen, squeezing her hands. “I love it.”

“You are welcome.” The woman packed up her bag and smiled on her way out the door. “I’ll see you next week, Mrs. Madsen.”

“Now. Sit for a moment. I have something for you.”

“Something else?” Alex perched on the edge of the stool, facing away from the mirror. “Surely not.”

“You know the saying. Something old, something new…”

“Something borrowed, something blue.”

“That’s right.” Johanna pulled over a matching stool and sat, careful not to wrinkle her pale blue suit. She opened her clutch purse and took out a small box. “This should cover the ‘borrowed’ and ‘blue’ part.”

Alex took the box with shaking fingers. Opening the lid, she found a square velvet box, and inside were nested a sapphire and diamond necklace and earring set.

“They’re gorgeous.”

“Lars gave them to me on our tenth anniversary. Connor’s mother wore them on her wedding day. And now it is your turn.”

Alex carefully removed the earrings, took out her own pearl studs she had planned on wearing, and replaced them with the antique sapphires. “Oh, Johanna.” The oval-shaped stones were surrounded by tiny, winking diamonds. She held up the necklace and Johanna fastened it around her neck.

“This isn’t right. You’re making this feel like a real wedding. And these are family heirlooms. It isn’t right.” She raised her hands, preparing to remove the earrings.

Johanna stopped her with a hand. “You remember what I told you about my grandparents, and keep an open mind.”

It’s not my mind I’m worried about, it’s my heart,she thought wistfully, rising and impulsively hugging the woman she had to struggle to keep from calling ‘Gram.’

“Well,” she choked, getting a little misty, “I have borrowed, blue, and new. I guess three out of four isn’t bad.”

“You’ll have your fourth, don’t worry.” Johanna paused by the door. “I’ll be back; it’s almost time. Once Connor is in place, I’ll come get you.”

She returned quickly. “It’s time, Alex. Are you ready?”

Alex nodded. “As ready as I’m going to be.”

Johanna smiled. “I’ve brought your bouquet. And I’ve got the ring. Connor’s already asked me twice.”

Neither she nor Connor had any attendants; instead Johanna was serving as their witness, carrying the ring and signing the marriage certificate. Alex followed her down the stairs, out the front door, and around the corner of the house. Connor stood with his back to the guests, chatting with the minister. Alex stared at his back. There was no turning back now. For better or worse they were going through with this sham and her heart was a tangled mess of guilt and the illusion of romance. She would walk down the grassy aisle between the chairs and meet him, agreeing to spend her life with him. Only she, Connor and Johanna knew it was to be an abbreviated union.

Johanna gave a signal, squeezed Alex’s hand, and left to take her seat. As soon as she was seated, Alex heard a guitar start a rendition of Pachabel Canon, and somehow, she wasn’t sure how, she made her feet move to the music.

Connor turned when the music started, and she paused as their eyes met. His brows lifted briefly in surprise, then a huge smile of approval swept over his face, the heat of it tangible even from several feet away. Faces turned in her direction, but she focused on none other than Connor and his melted-chocolate eyes as her slippers silently crushed the grass beneath her feet.

She stopped when he took three steps out of position and lifted his hand, offering it to her.

She took it.

“You look beautiful,” he whispered, making her heart swell. He led her under the arch and before the minister, to begin their life together.