Desperate Lola (The Mail Order Brides of Boot Creek Book 2) (6 page)

P
astor Kinsley had been expecting
us; the tall, thin man waited by the door with a smile on his face. “Hello. You made it.”

“Yes, there were some bumps in the road,” said Mr. Kelly, casting a smile my way. He held my hand, leading me up the wooden steps. “I think we’ve gotten over the worst of it.”

“Mrs. Hershey was here earlier. She’s arranged a small reception at the hotel.”

We stood inside the doorway, while the aroma of incense pervaded my senses. “I’d like to meet her. She brokered this marriage, after all.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you.” Pastor Kinsley held out his hand.

I shook it. “It’s good to meet you as well.” He was younger than I thought, with hair nearly the color of my own. His blue eyes shone pleasantly, the look boyish, yet charming.

“Mrs. Hershey’s pet project gives me headaches. She believes she’s performing an invaluable service with this match making scheme, but the last time nearly ended in disaster.”

“It did?” My eyes widened.

“Enoch Larson was a drunkard and an outlaw. He wasn’t suited for anyone, let alone an unsuspecting young woman. Chastity Donovan married him despite this, but I worried it would not end well. I prayed for a good outcome.”

“Goodness.” My hand went to my throat. “What happened?”

“He was shot in a gun battle and then hung after his trial.”

I glanced at Mr. Kelly. “How awful.”

My husband-to-be looked unsympathetic. “He was a wastrel. It’s not surprising he’s dead now. He was a notorious bank and train robber. He ran with the Ketchum Gang. No good ever comes from thievery.”

“What happened to the woman?”

“She married Enoch’s friend, Lucian Ellison. They’ve gone off to Arizona.” Pastor Kinsley smiled. “It all ended well, which is the only thing that matters.” His friendly gaze drifted between Mr. Kelly and myself. “You two seem rather well-suited. I have a far better feeling about this union than the last one.” He glanced over our heads. “There’s Mrs. Hershey.”

I turned to find an older woman in a smart dress and hat, which held an abundance of feathers. “I’m here! Everything’s still arranged.” She swept into the entranceway, a cloud of floral-scented perfume billowing around her. “Did you have trouble on the road? We had expected you two hours ago.”

“Yes, carriage trouble,” said Mr. Kelly, his eyes drifting to me. “It’s better now. We seem to be on course again.”

It was strange, but my belly flipped over, as little tingles fanned out all over my body. When he smiled, he looked almost boyishly handsome, even with the fine lines at the edges of his eyes. I longed to be alone with him—to kiss him again. There were so many things we needed to talk about.

“Don’t you agree, Lola?” he asked softly.

I smiled. “I do.”

Mrs. Hershey glanced between us. “Well, you seem to be fond of one another. There’s a good sign. I was worried for a moment there. Now I can set all of that aside.”

“As long as she refrains from talking, the marriage has half a chance,” chuckled Jack.

Ignoring that, I said, “Will there be more people? Is this all we can expect?”

“This is it, if that’s agreeable to you.” Pastor Kinsley motioned for us to enter the church. “Shall we get to it, then?”

“By all means,” said Mr. Kelly. “The sooner, the better.” He took my hand. “Are you ready?”

“Yes.”

“No last minute questions or regrets?”

“Oh, I have plenty of questions, but they can wait.” His frown was endearing. “Questions aren’t allowed at the moment, are they?”

“Shush, no talking. Don’t spoil it.”

“Very well,” I giggled.

“All right then,” said the preacher. “I’ll get my prayer book, and we can get on with the ceremony.”

We followed Pastor Kinsley down the aisle, while Mrs. Hershey brought up the rear. She would witness the nuptials. Her beam of pleasure was contagious. As I stood with Mr. Kelly before the preacher, I stared at my husband-to-be, marveling at the fact that I would be linked to him forever, although he was still a stranger for the most part. In time, the mystery of our characters would fully be revealed. In my heart, I knew this union was sound, although twinges of doubt continued to plague me.

“If there is anyone here who objects to this union,” said Pastor Kinsley. “Do speak up now or forever hold your peace.” He paused for a moment. “Now, you may say your vows.” He glanced at Jack.

“I, Jack Walter Kelly, take thee, Lola Anne Parsons, to be my lawful wedded Wife—”

“Wait.”

He glanced at me, shocked. “Pardon?”

“That’s not entirely accurate.”

“What isn’t entirely accurate?”

“My name. It’s really Lola Anne Foster.”

Jack’s mouth fell open. “I beg your pardon?”

“I didn’t give you my real last name. I was worried my family might follow the train ticket. I didn’t want them to know where I went. Can’t we change the name on the marriage certificate later?” He had obtained one already from the courthouse.

Pastor Kinsley and Mrs. Hershey exchanged a glance.

“Foster?” Jack’s expression looked grim. “What other surprises do you have for me?”

“That’s all.” Would this derail the wedding? Oh, goodness. “Can we proceed?”

“Do you wish to continue?” asked the preacher. “We can postpone the ceremony until after the changes are made to the certificate, if you wish.”

Mr. Kelly’s attention remained on me. “No. I want this done now. I’ll sort out the certificate later.”

I smiled, but I sensed he was vexed with me again. “I’m ready.” After Jack said his vows, I spoke mine, relieved that we had finally gotten married. Mrs. Hershey’s smile held traces of relief.

“If there are any rings. They may be exchanged now.”

Jack reached into his pocket, withdrawing something. “Give me your hand.” He slid what looked like an enormous sapphire, bordered by two smaller diamonds onto my finger. I stared dumbfounded, not having expected such an extravagant gesture. “Do you like it?”

“It’s … beautiful.” I smiled, while tears threatened. I had never owned anything so lovely.

“Good.” He appeared stern, his humor having vanished. “Are we finished here?”

“Yes, we are.” Pastor Kinsley grinned. “I wish you both great happiness and felicity in marriage. Congratulations.” He patted Mr. Kelly on the back. “Your wife is as handsome as they come. You’re very lucky.”

He pursed his lips. “Uh-hum.”

“There’s a reception at the hotel,” said Mrs. Hershey. “I do hope you can stop by and meet some of Boot Creek’s more illustrious persons. They’re quite eager to meet the new Mrs. Kelly.”

Jack took my hand, drawing me away, while saying, “We’ll be there in a moment. Thank you for all your help, Mrs. Hershey. Thank you, Pastor Kinsley.”

“You’re welcome,” they both murmured.

I wondered at what might be the matter with my husband, but he seemed determined to bring me away from the church, helping me into the carriage. “The hotel, Henry, please.”

“Yes, Mr. Kelly.”

Once seated, I turned to look at Jack. “What did I do now?”

A tick jumped in his cheek. “I’ve investigated Lola Anne Parsons. I had my man look into it. She’s from Virginia. She’s a graduate from Chatham University. She’s fluent in French, she reads Latin, and she’s an accomplished dancer.” He glared at me. “I imagine none of this is true, is it?”

“I didn’t go to Chatham. I went to Hollins University. I do speak French, but I can’t read Latin. Is it so important I read Latin?” I had to smile at his angry expression, although something else lingered there. “I didn’t want my family to find me. I told you why. You may have your man investigate Lola Anne Foster, if you wish. You’ll find everything I said to be true.”

He closed his eyes, sighing. “I suppose it doesn’t matter now.”

“But you’re angry again. I don’t want to ruin what’s left of the day on another argument.”

“Every instinct tells me I should walk away. You’ve already caused me more grief than necessary. I’ve never in my life had to explain myself to anyone, especially a woman, yet I’d gladly do it for you. It’s the most frustrating thing. I tell myself it’s just lust, which it certainly is, but this has gone far enough now. It’s ridiculous.”

I sat there utterly confused, as the façade of a building appeared before the door. “I’m not sure I know what you’re talking about.”

“The sooner we get through this the better.”

“What are you referring to?”

“The reception. I don’t wish to stay here more than an hour.”

“All right.”

“Then we’ll consummate this thing, so I can get you out of my system and get on with my life. I’ve more important things to worry about other than what you look like beneath that dress.” Henry had opened the door, letting down the steps. “Let’s go.”

Understanding dawned, as things suddenly became clear. I hid a smile. He felt exactly as I did, but he did not rejoice in this knowledge. It puzzled him, but the situation confused me too. Lust. Was that the feeling that vibrated through my body, drowning out all other emotions? Would this disappear once we had been together in an intimate fashion? That would be a shame, because it had lifted my spirits greatly.

People waited in the hotel to greet us, all of whom I did not know. Mrs. Hershey and her husband, Mayor Hershey, were nearest to the door, while Pastor Kinsley spoke with a couple towards the back. We were in the restaurant, where a table had been set with plates and spoons. A white cake sat in the middle, waiting to be cut.

“Hello, my dear,” said an older woman. “I’m Teresa Butterfield. My husband and I own the mercantile. Welcome to Boot Creek.”

“Thank you.”

“Congratulations on your marriage. You’ve made quite a catch. We were all wondering when Mr. Kelly would remarry. It’s been too long to be all alone.”

Jack stood behind me, his hand resting possessively on my shoulder. “Thank you, Mrs. Butterfield.”

“She’s terribly pretty. I keep telling Doris to stop that mail order bride nonsense, but she feels it’s her duty to play matchmaker. The last wedding was rather unfortunate, because the groom was a drunkard. I told her to be more careful in the future. Such an omission is grossly unfair to a potential bride.” She smiled brightly. “But it managed to work itself out in the end. The man died from hanging, and Chastity married someone more suitable, but his past was rather questionable too.” She frowned. “Oh, goodness. I’ve been talking too much, haven’t I?”

“It’s all right,” I said. “I’m glad it worked out in the end.”

“You must come to the ladies’ luncheon on Saturday. That way you can meet everyone. We’ve important issues to discuss, such as the Widows and Orphans Society bake sale and the Ladies Reading Club and things. There’s always something happening. I invite you to join all of these organizations. It’s important for the moral welfare of Boot Creek.”

“I think I’d like that.”

“Excellent. I’ll tell them that you’ll be there.”

I glanced at my husband, who stared at the door. A woman had arrived dressed in a green velvet, princess cut outfit that molded to her figure. She wore her dark hair beneath a green satin boater with a black feather plume. Everyone had stopped talking to look at her, and I felt a prickle of unease. The hand on my shoulder squeezed me gently. Jack was not thrilled by this woman’s arrival in the least, his eyes hardening. She smiled gaily, making a beeline towards us, passing the table with the cake.

“I heard the news,” she breathed. “Congratulations.” She smiled at me. “It’s nice to meet you. I’m Vanessa Lowell.” She held out a black-gloved hand.

That name rang familiar, because I had heard it mentioned this morning. “Hello.” I shook her hand, as my spirits sank.

“I was skeptical of the mail order business, but, after seeing you, perhaps, it’s an ingenious idea after all.”

“I think we should have the cake now,” said Mr. Kelly. “It’s getting later by the hour.” His frown was pronounced.

“I do hope I’ll be seeing you soon, Jack,” she purred throatily. “People have been asking about you.”

Mrs. Hershey, having seen whom we spoke to, hurried over. “Well, then. Let’s cut that cake. I’m sure the
happily
married couple will want to take their leave soon.” She glared at Vanessa. “Is there a reason you’re here, my dear? Are you acquainted with the wedding party?”

“Just the groom.”

My mood plummeted, while I stood there staring at this elegant, vibrant woman. She was a madam or a prostitute, I presumed. She knew my husband, and she fully expected to continue to know him. The shine had suddenly worn off my wedding day, like silver left out too long. Jack knew it too, glancing at me to assess my reaction. Before we were to take a slice of cake, he drew his arm around my person and led me to the door. We would not be having a reception after all.

I
n the carriage
, Jack stared at the floor, sitting across from me. Afraid to speak, I twirled the ring around my finger, marveling at its beauty. I had a habit of distracting myself in such a manner. The air felt heavy with the weight of unspoken words, while dozens of questions flitted around in my mind.

“How much of the conversation did you hear this morning?”

“Enough to know she’s … she’s a courtesan or something of that nature.”

“She did that on purpose.”

“What?”

“Her arrival at our reception. She did it to cause trouble.” He sat back in the seat, his expression aggrieved. “I didn’t want her to ruin your day. It’s already been a struggle enough for us as it is.”

“I understand you’ve had a life before you knew me. You were married. You’re substantially older. Maybe Mrs. Hershey will save us a slice of cake. I do love vanilla cake with sugar frosting.” I smiled wistfully.

“You’re not angry?”

“What am I supposed to be angry about? I don’t know these people. I don’t know Vanessa Lowell, and I certainly don’t plan on ever knowing her. She’s of no consequence to me, but she seems to matter to you.”

He closed his eyes. “I’ve been an unmarried man for quite some time. It’s my right to come and go as I please. Most men do so, even after marriage.”

I was aware of that, knowing that my stepfather visited brothels as well, because I had heard my mother complain of it. “Yes, they do.”

“I could throttle her for ruining our reception and embarrassing you in public. Everyone who is anyone in Boot Creek was there. You didn’t get to meet many people.”

“I’m sure the next time you see her, you can tell her this.” It bothered me immensely that he had a mistress, but there would be little I could do about it.

“Let’s not speak of it.”

“Certainly not. You’ll have your secrets, and I’ll have mine. We needn’t speak of anything other than what social engagements we are to attend and the weather.” I twirled the ring, over and over.

He moved to where I was, wrapping an arm around my shoulder. “You’re upset. I knew you would be, and so did Vanessa. I told her I was going to be married. I never said when, but she managed to figure it out. Boot Creek isn’t very big. No more than five-hundred people live here, and news travels fast.”

“I suppose.” I leaned away from him, not wanting to get too close.

“Lola?”

“What?”

“Come here.” He pulled me to him. “You were so warm earlier, so receptive. I’d hate to think that’s all ruined now. Tell me what you’re thinking.”

“If I do, I’ll say exactly what I feel, and then we’ll argue again.”

He sighed. “I want to know what’s on your mind.”

I scooted away to escape the arm around me. “What is she to you? Are you in love with her?”

“No. I don’t particularly believe in love.”

Now
that
had my attention. “How can you say such a thing? Weren’t you in love with your wife?”

“I felt a certain degree of affection towards her and obligation.”

I frowned. “Did you tell her that?”

“In so many words.”

What sort of a relationship had they had? “How awful.”

“Marriage among my peers is for the continuation of the bloodline and for social standing. It’s not about romantic attachments. That’s what affairs and things are for, but I probably shouldn’t tell you that.”

“I agree.”

“My wife was a happy woman, Lola. She never wanted for anything. She loved her life and her clubs, and plenty of engagements kept her busy. The loss of our son devastated us, and then we were not able to have more children, although we tried. She wasn’t all that fond of … well, the mechanics of what men and women do in the bedroom.”

“You needn’t explain yourself. The past isn’t my business. What you do when you’re away from the house is your business.” But that was a lie. I had asked, and I still wanted to know everything about him.

“But I feel compelled to explain myself. I can see it bothers you. You have some farfetched notions about things, and I mean to set you straight.”

“I’m Lola Foster. I’m not anybody else. I’ll behave and react the way I do, because I’m me.” Now he looked confused. “Just because your wife didn’t like that aspect of marriage doesn’t mean I won’t. A woman can enjoy herself with her husband and not be a prostitute.” How on earth I had formed this opinion, I did not know. It certainly wasn’t from experience.

He remained thoughtful, his attention on me. “But you’re still upset.”

“I want to scratch her eyes out. She looked at you like you were one of her possessions. That’s the part I found annoying.”

“I was her best customer. I’m one of the wealthiest men in town, Lola, if not the entire territory. I suppose she thinks I’m in her pocket.” He touched my face, his thumb grazing my chin. “She could never match your beauty. It’s utter perfection wrapped up in an innocence I find refreshing. There’s nothing sharp or hardened about you. You’ve not been trampled by the world and molded by cynicism, and I hope you never will be.”

“She was so exotic, so mysterious.”

“That’s face paint and a tight corset. She’s quite haggard looking without all that powder.” He smiled ruefully. “There’s something mean there too. It came from having to fight and scrape to claw her way out of the gutter. I’ve given her enough money to see her through for some time, but I suspect she’s fond of gambling. It’ll all run out sooner than later.” His gaze drifted to my mouth. “I don’t want to talk about her anymore.”

“I don’t either.” We were nearly to the house. “Do you think they’ve eaten the cake?”

“Poor, Lola,” he chuckled. “I’ll have Mrs. Boles send up champagne and strawberries. Will that make you happy?”

“Yes, but only if you have them with me.”

“That was the plan.” He frowned slightly. “I hope the day isn’t ruined.”

“It’s not. I value your honesty. You didn’t have to tell me any of this, but I’m glad you did. I don’t know if you’ll ever see her again, and I hope you won’t, but I can’t control any of that.”

We had pulled up to the house, where Mrs. Boles appeared on the stairs with Otto at her feet.

“I can guarantee you that I’ll never seek out Miss Lowell’s services again. I’ve no need to engage a clingy mistress. They’re not worth the trouble, I can assure you.”

I would have to think about everything we had discussed, as some things continued to niggle me, unpleasantly. He had been as honest as I had hoped, and that was more than I could ask for at this time. He was my husband now, and I had given myself over to his care. Our rocky start would hopefully transform into something smoother, more satisfying.

He waited for me to alight, taking my hand. “There you are.”

“Are congratulations in order?” asked Mrs. Boles.

“Yes, they are. We finally found success.”

“Oh, how wonderful.” She grinned.

“Can you send up champagne and strawberries?”

“Yes, sir.”

“With whipped cream?” I asked hopefully.

“My poor wife wasn’t able to have cake.” Jack and I approached the steps. Otto had been well-behaved, waiting patiently for his master and mistress. “We were forced to leave a tad early.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. I’ll make those things you requested immediately.” She winked at me. “A private celebration is far better anyhow.”

I smiled, agreeing. “Yes.”

Jack led the way, my hand firmly in his grasp, as he strode towards the staircase. His determination to bring me to my bedchamber was duly noted. Once we had reached our destination, he drew me into his arms. “You’re so lovely, Lola. I long to see you without anything on.” His husky tenor sent a pleasurable shiver down my spine.

I grasped at his bowtie, pulling it loose. “You’ve too much on as well.”

Determined hands encircled my waist, pulling me towards the bed. “We’ll remedy the issue soon enough.”

Gazing into his face, seeing his interest, a sense of gladness rushed through me, as my heart took on extra beats. While he undid the tiny buttons on the bodice, I continued to stare at him, marveling at how handsome he was. I adored the shape of his face, even with the wrinkles and the hints of gray in his hair. He looked like a comfortably worn blanket I wanted to wrap myself in.

“What are your thoughts?” he asked. “Something nice is going through your mind.”

“I … think I like you.”

He grinned. “I’m glad to hear it.”

“Do you like me?” He’d removed the bodice, working on the corset, pulling loose the stays.

“Yes, Lola. I married you, didn't I?”

“But you felt obligated.”

“Not at all. I could’ve given you ample money and sent you back home.”

My skirt had come undone, and I stepped out of it, standing before him in nothing more than my chemise and drawers. I grasped his face, and not being able to help myself, I kissed him. A knock on the door interrupted us, and I reluctantly let go.

“Hold that thought, my love. Come in!”

Mrs. Boles appeared with a tray. “Here you are. Everything you asked for.” There were two wine glasses and a bowl of strawberries with cream. She left without another word.

Jack poured the fluid into the glasses, handing one to me. “To a new beginning.”

“I’ve never had champagne before.”

“To new experiences.”

I sat on the bed, with a leg beneath me. “Bring everything over. I really don’t want to sit at the table.”

“As you wish.”

“Then you should take those clothes off.”

He lifted an eyebrow. “Demanding.”

I giggled, sipping the champagne, which tasted dry, yet bubbly. “I don’t have to be shy with my husband, do I?”

“I would hope not.” He set the tray near me, although he left the bottle on the table. “Here you are. It’s not the cake you wanted, but it’ll have to do.”

He undid his waistcoat, leaving it on a chair. His shirt and trousers followed this, while I eyed him curiously, finding his body pleasing. Broad shoulders tapered to a lean torso, his belly toned and flat. A patch of dark hair hid his anatomy, and, when he turned to retrieve his glass, I glimpsed the contours of his buttocks. I longed to touch every part of his flawless, manly perfection.

“You’ve had an eyeful.” He sat on the bed, grinning teasingly.

“I have.”

“Do you like what you see?” He lifted an arm, flexing a muscle. “I might not be as young as my wranglers, but I’m in the stables more often than not. I do my share of manual labor. Sitting behind a desk isn’t good for overall health, or so my physician says. I enjoy riding my property.” Dunking a strawberry into whipped cream, I brought it to his lips; he ate it in one bite. “Thank you.” I kissed him while he still chewed, wrapping my arms around his neck. “I’m so grateful your warmth is back, Lola. I like this side of you.”

“I like this side of you,” I murmured, shivering with pleasure at the closeness.

“You seem to bring out a variety of responses in me. I do so prefer when we’re not arguing.”

He felt soft beneath my fingers, while I ran a hand across his shoulder. As my husband, it was my right to see him thusly unclothed. It was like birthday and Christmas all wrapped up in a pretty bow. The desire to explore him—every inch of him—left me nearly euphoric with anticipation. I climbed onto his lap, heedless of the strawberries, which the movement unsettled, tossing the fruit across the covers.

“You’re surprisingly aggressive,” he murmured.

“Hum … I don’t want to talk. I just want to touch you. I want to kiss every inch of you.” My only thought was to kiss him, finding his mouth, and invading with my tongue. “Jack … ” He grabbed me, crushing me to him.

A pounding on the door broke the spell. “Boss! We got trouble!” said a voice that sounded like Mr. Brittle. “Oliver Trundle and his boys are comin’!”