[Canadian West 05] - Beyond the Gathering Storm (20 page)

BOOK: [Canadian West 05] - Beyond the Gathering Storm
3.05Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
Christine was tempted to agree with Miss Stout. The little speech had not been in good taste. But she could not say so in front of all the office staff. She merely nodded.
He ushered her out. “Where are we going?” she asked. “I’m not dressed for dinner.”
“That’s why I am taking you home first. You have to tell Mrs. What’s-her-name, don’t you, that you won’t be eating at her table tonight? And I want you to put on your fanciest attire.”
“I don’t have any fancy attire,” objected Christine.
“Then maybe we should get you some.”
Christine was horrified. She was not about to let a young man buy her clothing—even if he did appear to have more money than he knew what to do with.
“You’ll look just fine in something you have,” he said, giving her elbow a squeeze. “Wear that pretty blue dress. I love what it does to your eyes.”
She nodded. She’d wear the blue one.
“And pin your hair up,” he added, flicking one of her curls with a finger. “No—wear it down, about your face. No pins. No clips. Nothing. I love seeing it hang free like that.”
She merely nodded again. He had never told her how to wear her hair before.
He took her to a new restaurant—at least new to her. It was by far the nicest place she had ever eaten. The ambiance suited Boyd’s unusual mood. Grandeur. Opulence. Patrons with furs and finery. Christine sat back and sighed deeply, enjoying the luxury and the scented candlelight and soft music. But when he suggested wine to celebrate the evening, she stiffened and shook her head.
“You might discover you like it if you’d give it a try,” he prompted.
She shook her head again. “I guess we’ll not be finding out.” She felt a bit hurt that he continued to press when she had already made her position clear on the subject.
“Do you mind if I have a glass?”
Christine did, but she shrugged her shoulders. “Suit yourself.”
He ordered wine. Then he discussed the dinner with the waiter. Christine gathered that everything would be taken care of. She leaned back against the heavy plush of the secluded booth and let her eyes roam over the surroundings.
I can quite understand how folks could get to like this
,
she thought.
The meal was as good as it looked. Christine really did not care for the shrimp cocktail, but she did enjoy the sauce on the leg of lamb. She tried not to think about where the meat had come from. Little lambs belonged in green flower-dotted meadows, not on dinner plates.
The dessert was a fancy kind of flambé. Christine gasped as she watched the whole bowl go up in flames, thinking the server had made some dreadful mistake. Boyd laughed.
When they had finished the meal, Boyd ordered another glass of wine and moved closer to Christine. He reached out a hand and touched a tendril of her hair. “Enjoy?” he asked, leaning toward her.
She nodded, feeling rather dreamy. “And I couldn’t eat another bite,” she laughed. “It’s been very special. Thank you. Is this ... is this your going-away gift to me?”
“Going away?”
“Back to college? You aren’t leaving early, are you?”
He picked up her hand and placed a kiss on her palm. “No. I’m not going early. In fact, I’ve been thinking ... I don’t believe I’ll go back at all.”
Even in her languid state, Christine was shocked.
“I’ve had my college kick,” he explained.
“What will you do?” she had to ask even as she wondered if she should.
He leaned back a bit and took a sip from his glass. When he set it down he spoke again, still toying with her hair. “Been thinking about joining Dad. He’s been rather anxious for me to get involved. I’ve been putting him off ... but ... well ... I’m beginning to change my views.”
Christine smiled at him. It would be nice to have him back home ... so close. But she wondered if she’d be able to keep her mind on her work with him in the office.
“I’ve been thinking about some other things too.”
“Like?” she prompted when he hesitated.
“You and me. What life would be like if we were together.”
Christine’s breath caught in her throat. “Are you suggesting—?”
“I’m not suggesting anything, Christine. I’m asking—beg—ging—if I have to. I really need you. I’ve never met anyone like you. Please. Will you marry me, Christine?”
“Are you—?”
“Serious? I’ve never been more serious.”
“I was going to say, ‘Are you sure?’”
“I’m sure. Absolutely sure.”
Christine’s heart was thumping. She could not believe it. Boyd
Kingsley-the
Boyd Kingsley, every girl’s dream—was actually asking her to marry him.
Suddenly she looked at him from beneath her long eyelashes and whispered, “What are the magic words?”
He seemed taken aback. “I already said please.
Please,
will you marry me?”
She shook her head. “No, the
other
magic words.”
He leaned forward until his lips were almost brushing her cheek. “I love you. Really. I love you.” He understood.
She took a deep breath and leaned her forehead against his chin. “In that case,” she said, her heart singing, “the answer is yes.
Elizabeth was glad she was able to sit down at the table when Christine’s call came.
“Oh, Mother,” she exclaimed when Elizabeth answered the phone, “I couldn’t wait to tell you. Guess what?” she sang over the wires. “I’m engaged.”
“But ... we don’t even know him,” Elizabeth protested, trying to keep her dismay out of her voice.
“He’s wonderful. You’ll love him.”
It took Elizabeth a few moments to get her breath back. In the meantime Christine hurried on over her mother’s silence. “He took me to this wonderful restaurant, and we had the most magnificent meal. And my diamond! You should see it, Mother. It’s huge. All the girls are envious. And he isn’t going back to school. He’s going to stay right here and work for his father. We’ll—”
“Slow down—please. You are going much too fast for me,” Elizabeth finally was able to interject.
Christine laughed, sounding giddy with excitement.
They did eventually manage to have a two-way conversation. But even so, as Elizabeth hung up the receiver she felt shaken. She could not stand around waiting for Wynn to arrive home. She grabbed her coat, pushed the waiting meal to the back of the stove, and went to meet him.
He looked surprised when he saw her coming toward him. “This is a nice treat,” he said and reached out to take her hand.
Highly agitated, she poured out the entire exchange with Christine as they walked home together.
“I’m sure he’s a fine young man,” he said consolingly.
“We don’t even know him. And she’s so young. Only eighteen.”
“Lots of girls are married at eighteen. Besides—they might plan on a long engagement.”
. “Oh ... I certainly hope so. Well, I don’t know...” Her uncertainty and distress about the whole situation made her chest hurt and her head ache.
“Why don’t we see if they can make a trip here?” Wynn suggested, giving her hand a squeeze.
“I already tried that. Christine says they can’t right now. He’ll be busy learning his father’s business. I asked about Easter. She said he had already made some plans.”
“We’ll work out something,” Wynn said thoughtfully.
They were almost home when he turned to her. “What if you go visit them? You haven’t been on a trip for an age.”
She brightened, then sobered again. “Christine might think I’m checking on her.”
“Well... ?” He laughed.
She gave his hand a playful tug. Then, turning serious, she said, “I don’t want to alienate her.”
“I don’t see what could be more natural than for a mother to visit her daughter who’s planning a wedding. Don’t you have lots of things to discuss?”
Elizabeth nodded. It was true. Surely she would be expected to have a part in the arrangements.
“I’ll call her,” she said, her heart and step lighter.
Christine felt she was floating somewhere above solid ground.
l’m engaged. To a wonderfulhandsome, most desirable young man.
They soon would be making their wedding plans. Her mother was coming to share her joy. Life could be no better.
She glowed throughout the day, and when it came time to leave the office, she ignored the chill wind and the stinging snow and walked home with warmth in her heart.
Boyd called for her. It was the first she had seen him since he had dropped her off after their engagement dinner. The first time since they were engaged.
Engaged.
The word rang in Christine’s ears. There was something so magical about it. So
belonging.
They were no longer just an item. They were a couple.
“One of these days,” said Boyd as he ushered her down the walk toward the waiting car, “I’m going to lead you away from Old Sourpuss and not bring you back.”
She was able to laugh.
“And the sooner the better,” he went on. “I hate these childish curfews. You’d think you were in grade school.”
He helped her into the auto and slammed her door.
“So ... what are we doing tonight?” she asked, sliding across the seat and up next to him. He shifted gears, then reached for her hand.
“Well ... I thought we should plan us a wedding.” He grinned.
“My mother is coming,” she enthused. “I phoned her and she phoned back to say she’s coming to the city. She’s excited about helping me find a dress—and all that.”
He said nothing, but he squeezed her hand.
“What kind of a wedding do you want? Big? Little? Private?” she asked.
“Private? Never. I want to show you off. The bigger the better. Let’s make it one grand party.”
“I’ll want a church wedding,” she commented, watching to see how he would respond.
“Have your church wedding. I’ve no objection. I’ve always pictured myself standing up there by that—what do you call that big piece of furniture in the front?—waiting for my blushing bride to come sweeping down the aisle in that long train thing. Sure—have a church wedding. Just as long as they don’t preach at us or put our name on their list or something.”
“What list?”
“I don’t know. Heard that all churches have a list so they know who to ding for money when they need it.”
She shook her head. “Who told you that? That’s silly.”
“Well, I don’t want my name on any list.”
She looked at him and frowned, wondering if he was serious. She could tell that he was.
“No list,” she said quietly.
He took her to his home, and they spent the evening before the open fire discussing plans for their future together. Mr. Kingsley was conspicuously absent. The fact that she was going to be married still seemed like a dream to Christine. Time slipped away too quickly, and she scrambled up when she saw the mantel clock.

Other books

Billie Holiday by John Szwed
Doctor On The Boil by Richard Gordon
As Long As by Jackie Ivie
Dance With Me by Hazel Hughes
The White Bull by Fred Saberhagen
Addicted To Greed by Catherine Putsche
Mindwalker by AJ Steiger
Perfectly Mixed by Ancelli
Death by Diamonds by Annette Blair