Bluebonnet Belle (31 page)

Maybe not.

She wouldn't think about it.

She couldn't. She would dissolve in tears, in a crumpled heap, and die of longing.

Her footsteps slowed as she realized she was standing in front of his office. Wouldn't you know it? She wasn't going to let it rest. She started to cry. Foolish, wasted tears that would result in nothing more than a miserable chapped face.

Silent weeping turned into deep, heartrending sobs as she realized that Gray would never be hers. Never. And it hurt. Worse than her mother's death, and the long hours she'd spent holding Datha's hand, praying she would live.

Leaning against the building, April tried to hold it in, but that only made it worse.
Why, God? Why would You allow this man to come into my life and yet deny him to me? Why did he ever have to come to Dignity in the first place? How dare he come here and steal my heart, then run back to Dallas and Frances—

From out of nowhere, a handkerchief appeared. A nice, snowy-white handkerchief.

Unconsciously accepting it, she blew her nose, trying to stem the salty tide of weeping.

Suddenly she looked up. Where had the handkerchief come from?

Trying to focus on the blurry apparition blocking her path, she whispered, “Gray?”

Taking her in his arms, he started waltzing with her. Right there in the middle of the sidewalk in a blowing rainstorm. He danced with her as if it were as natural as breathing. Moving her gracefully about the puddled sidewalk, he held her closely, his gaze locked with hers. “Now, where were we when Henry so rudely interrupted us?”

“Gray?” she repeated, stunned by his almost ghostly appearance. His overcoat was drenched, as if he'd been out in the weather for some time.

Whirling her lightly, he caught her by the waist and lifted her off the sidewalk, setting her down in the middle of the street.

As their feet moved again, his gaze held hers in the gaslight.

“Did I get around to telling you how beautiful you looked at Beulah's wedding?”

Regaining her composure, April turned angry. How
dare
he dance with her in the rain, hold her indecently close and gaze at her as if they were destined to be man and wife? And how
dare
he make her want him more than anything she'd ever wanted in her life.

When she opened her mouth to berate him, he kissed her. Kissed her so hard, so thoroughly, so completely, he rendered her speechless.

As their lips parted many long moments later, he whispered, “Merry Christmas.”

Laughter bubbled up inside her. Kissing him left her giddy, feeling as carefree as a child. “Christmas is seven months away.”

He frowned. “Are you certain? I have a gift for you.”

“You do?”

He reached into his pocket. “I believe…yes, here it is.” He opened his hand, revealing a small blue velvet box resting in his palm.

She wouldn't let herself think—no, she wouldn't let herself hope. But strange as he was acting, there was no reason to hope he was here to—

Taking her hand, he closed it around the box. “Aren't you going to open it?”

“No.” She looked away, refusing to invite disappointment. What right did he have to be giving her gifts when he was seeing another woman? It was disgraceful. Immoral…

“Coward.”

“Gray…” She was tired of playing games. “Unless that's an engagement ring, I don't want it.” There. She'd said it. Let him have a good laugh, then run back to Dallas.

His brows lifted in surprise. “Engagement ring? You want an engagement ring from
me?
”

Well, now she did feel stupid. How could she have blurted that out—an engagement ring. Why hadn't she said a…diamond tiara or, better yet, a stupid old Ming vase!

Gray reached out and brushed back a strand of hair the wind had blown from beneath her cloak. “If I gave you an engagement ring, that would mean I would be obliged to marry you.”

“Well…would that be so bad?” She gazed up at him, willing him to say the words she wanted to hear.

He pretended to think about it.

She didn't find that funny.

He shrugged. “I guess not.”

She gasped. “You guess not!”

Pulling her to him, he brushed her lips with his again, exquisitely, then kissed her more deeply. “Perhaps that's why I purchased the ring—the only one I've ever purchased in my life—to give to a woman—the only one I've ever loved enough to spend the rest of my life making happy, and am now asking for her hand in marriage—or trying to.”

“Oh, Gray!” Her words issued forth in a rush of disbelief. Joy started to grow inside her. “Do you mean it? I thought you were in love with her?”

“Her who? If by ‘her' you mean Miss DuBois, then I must confess that at one time I had thought to marry her.” His features sobered and he quietly explained the loan, his obligation to repay Louis. How he'd garnered enough trust in Dignity to obtain a new loan from the bank, and repay Louis. The DuBoises were now out of his life. “If you agree to marry me, darling, we will be poorer than church mice, but I make you this promise.” He drew her closer. “I will love you with every ounce of my being. Till death do us part.”

He gazed at her with such love, such perfect devotion, that she started to cry again. Opening the box, he displayed a tiny sparkling diamond. “Will you do me the honor of being Mrs. Gray Fuller?”

“But Gray…darling…we disagree—a lot.”

“Never about us.”

No, that was true. Over the Pinkham tonic, the duel, her impetuous nature, and they hadn't fought over that in a while…. Actually, they hadn't fought about anything lately.

Really, she loved him exactly the way he was.

“And if disagreeing worries you, get over it. We'll do that a lot in the next fifty years.”

Suddenly, he lifted her off her feet and kissed her again. When the kiss ended, he gazed down at her, rain coating his long, dark lashes. “Well?”

“Well…yes. Yes!” She kissed
him
this time.

Yes
, she thought—she would be honored to be Mrs. Gray Fuller for at least the next fifty years. And if God ordained, even longer.