Justin's Bride (29 page)

“Dammit, Megan, you're the one I wanted. You're the one I loved.” He wanted to go to her and hold her, but he couldn't. Not yet. She had more to tell him. He wondered if her words would continue to rip his heart, or if eventually it would eventually become numb to the pain.

“I wanted to believe you,” she continued. “When we met by the stream, I really wanted to hear that you were innocent. I kept waiting for you to explain about being with Laurie. But you never said a word.”

“I didn't think you knew. It's not something I'm proud of.”

“I felt that if you were lying about that, you might be lying about everything.” He started to interrupt, but she held up her hand to stop him. “I see now that I was afraid to believe in you. If I really thought you were innocent, I would have to be at your side defending you. I couldn't do that. I was too afraid. Afraid of what my father would say. Afraid of what Laurie had been able to give you that I couldn't. I was afraid of everything.”

“You could have just said that,” he told her, then leaned back in the chair and closed his eyes. The demons returned and he didn't know if he had any strength left to fight them. It had been seven years since that afternoon. Why did it still matter what she said?

“I know. But I knew if I admitted that to you, you would convince me. You were always very good at convincing me of things.”

“Not good enough.”

She shifted on the seat. He didn't bother to look at her. He could hear the rustle of the coverlet. “I didn't mean to say those things. They just came out.”

Then the demons won. He was swept out of the hotel room toward the bank by the stream. He could see the green leaves on the trees, feel the heat of the summer afternoon. Megan stood before him, a frightened young girl, not yet sure of her way. Her face had been pale, her eyes wide with apprehension.

“I won't go with you,” she'd said, her body stiff with what he'd thought was disgust but now understood was fear. “I won't. Leave me be, Justin. It's over. If you're going, then go, but I don't want any part of you.”

“I thought you cared about me. We're engaged.” His body was numb. He'd had to force the words out slowly.

“Not anymore.” She'd raised her hand to her neck and taken off the delicate chain that he'd given her as a symbol of their pledge. The chain had been the only thing of his mother's that he'd kept. Megan had tossed it at him. He hadn't bothered to put out his hand, and it had fallen to the ground.

“Just like that,” he'd said sadly, wondering how much this was going to destroy him. Each breath hurt more than the last. Every part of him screamed with pain, with emptiness. Not Megan. He couldn't lose her. She was the only decent thing in his sorry life. “I love you.”

“I don't love you,” she'd said spitefully. “You're a fool if you thought I ever did. Who do you think you are, anyway? I'm Megan Bartlett. I know who my father is. You're just that bastard Justin Kincaid. You'll only ever be a bastard. Go away. Go away!”

Her shriek had rebounded through the forest, vibrating against the trees and the ground, forcing him to run. He'd turned from her and fled into the cool silence, away from the words that would forever echo in his mind.

He'd left the next day. Had left Landing determined to become that which the town believed him to be. A criminal and a troublemaker. He'd been determined to forget Megan, as well. He had done neither. In the end, he'd found himself facing what he'd fled from. Here he was, seven years later, listening to Megan say she'd been wrong.

But it was still too late.

“I'm sorry,” she whispered.

He opened his eyes and stared at her. “Why do you care about them?” he asked, fighting his anger. “Why the hell does it matter what other people think? What is the hold everyone has on you? Damn you, tell me why.”

Her mouth opened twice before she could force out the words. “I can't.”

“Is it me?” he asked, clenching the arms of the chair to keep himself from rushing to her side to grab her and shake her until she confessed. “Is it your sister? Is it Gene?”

She shook her head. “No. None of them. It's me. It's always been me.” She bent her head toward the floor. Her long hair fell forward, concealing her features. He didn't want to know that she cried. Despite the pain, despite everything, her tears would tear him apart.

“Megan—”

“No!” She raised her head and glared at him. Tears trembled on her lower lashes but didn't fall. “Do you want to know why?” She paused as if waiting for him to answer. When he didn't, she shook her head. “Don't change your mind now, Justin. I'll tell you everything.”

She drew in a deep breath. “When I was almost nine I came home early from school because I didn't feel well. I walked into the kitchen, as I always did, and I heard voices coming from the parlor.” She pulled her knees up to her chest and gazed past him, as if seeing that long-ago afternoon. “It was my father and another man. I went down the hall and saw my mother was there, as well. They all started yelling. It was so loud, I couldn't understand what they were saying at first. Then I knew. My mother was going away with this man. She wanted to take Colleen and me with her, but my father wouldn't let her. He called her awful names.”

Megan started rocking back and forth. He wanted to go to her and comfort her. More than that, he wanted to stop her words, for they obviously caused her pain. But he couldn't. Selfishly, he had to know why she'd acted as she did. He had to know why she'd been so willing to destroy them both.

“I couldn't bear it anymore, so I ran out and hid until it was the regular time to come home from school. I made Colleen swear not to tell them I'd left early.” She tilted her head back and stared at the ceiling. A single tear rolled down her temple and into her hair.

“He said she'd died.”

Justin straightened in the chair and stared at her. “Your mother?”

She nodded. “He said it had been very sudden. She'd fallen down the stairs. At first, I thought he'd killed her. When they brought in the coffin, I was sure of it. That night, I crept downstairs and looked inside. It was empty. She'd gone away. Two days later, he buried that empty coffin and from then on spoke of my mother as if she were really dead.”

“You never saw her again?”

“No. I tried to tell Colleen what had happened, but she wouldn't listen.” She turned to look at him. Sunlight caught the side of her face, illuminating her skin until she looked otherworldly. “You asked me once when my sister changed from being a wild hooligan to a proper lady. It was the day we buried that coffin. I think we both knew if we ever did anything wrong, we would be dead to our father. Dead and buried, or sent away. We were so young. We never forgot the lesson. Colleen won't speak of it, but I know she remembers.”

He went to her then. He didn't remember standing up and walking across the room, but suddenly she was in his arms and he was holding her close. Her sobs sounded loud and harsh in the morning stillness, her body shook as he wrapped his arms around her.

“Hush, Megan. No one is ever going to hurt you again,” he whispered, then knew he would do anything in his power to keep that promise.

She raised her damp face to him. “Don't you see?” she said intently. “I finally understand. My mother took a lover. Papa was so difficult and exacting. I never knew why he was so concerned about our actions and reputations, but as I grew up, I finally understood. Yet in the end, all his effort went to waste.”

He knew what she was about to say, but he couldn't stop her. He tried pressing his fingers over her mouth, but she jerked her head away impatiently.

“I'm just like her.” Her eyes held his. “I've taken a lover, too. I know Papa was difficult at times, but taking a lover is wrong, don't you think? I'm ruined, just like she was. Only I can't be dead to the world. I have to face them. Everyone. Mrs. Dobson warned me. She said I would never be able to get my reputation back, and she's right.”

Her mouth trembled so hard, she couldn't speak anymore. The mute pain in her eyes was his undoing. He cursed her father, the town and most of all, himself.

“You're not like her,” he said, tucking her head under his chin. “I promise. I promise.” He stroked her long hair and her back, trying to comfort her. The sobs had grown silent, but he could feel the tears as they continued to drip off her cheeks onto his bare arm. Their legs tangled together, reminding him they were both still naked. She was warm in his arms. A stirring of interest flared between his thighs, but he ignored the feeling. This wasn't about him; it was about Megan and what he'd done to her.

He'd known the first minute she'd walked into the hotel that she'd been hell-bent on destroying her reputation. If he'd walked out of the lobby and gone back to his office, she would have been left without a plan. Given a few hours to think things over, she would have come to her senses. But he hadn't given her the time to reconsider. He'd been so damn pleased to see her, so caught up in the thought that he might be able to kiss her again and hold her that he'd only thought of himself and what he wanted. This was his fault and he had to make it up to her. Not just because her reputation had been destroyed but because he'd only ever loved Megan. Seven years hadn't changed that fact. A hundred lifetimes wouldn't made a difference.

He cupped her face in his hands. Using his thumbs to wipe away the tears, he smiled at her. “I can make it right,” he said.

Her eyes got wider. “How?”

“Just get dressed.”

His statement reminded her of her nudity. He saw it in the sudden blush that swept up her cheeks. “Justin, what are you going to do?”

“It's what you're going to do.”

“Which is what?”

“Marry me.”

* * *

The church was unfamiliar, as was the minister. Megan stood in front of the altar in her Worth gown trying to keep her legs from shaking.

She was getting married. Even as the familiar words of the ceremony washed over her, she felt as if she were caught up in some madness and in a few minutes she would find out none of this was real.

Except Justin's hand felt real as he held hers. Behind her, Mrs. Dobson sat with Bonnie. She could hear the child's excited questions, then her whispered conversation with her precious doll. Everything had moved so quickly. One minute he'd announced they were getting married and the next they were dressed and walking toward the livery stable where Justin had spent five dollars to rent a buggy for the day. She'd protested the expense, saying a wagon was good enough, but he hadn't listened. From the livery stable, they'd driven to Mrs. Dobson's house where they'd picked up the widow and Bonnie. By mutual agreement, they'd left Landing. Neither of them wanted to be married by Gene.

“Do you take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband?” the minister asked.

Megan looked up at Justin. He wore his black coat over a clean white shirt with a string tie. Dark eyes met hers unflinchingly. “Only if you're sure,” he said quietly, ignoring the minster's raised eyebrows at the interruption.

Only if she was sure. He still wondered, she realized, watching the emotions flicker across his face. He still wondered if she was ashamed of him.

The pain in her chest was so sharp, she almost cried out. It wasn't fair that this proud man would be so afraid of what she might think of him. She wanted to blurt out that she cared for him, but was caring enough? She'd done wicked things to Justin and he hadn't forgiven her yet. He might never forgive her. But he'd been willing to marry her, to save her good name. He'd protected her from her own foolishness. He'd offered her his name. And still he wondered if it was enough.

“I'm proud to marry you,” she said, then glanced at the minister. “I do.”

Justin repeated the vows. His voice was low and strong as if saying the words didn't trouble him at all. With a bolt of self-realization, she knew she didn't deserve him now, and she certainly hadn't seven years before. She'd been a fool and a weakling. Closing her eyes briefly, she prayed for the strength to make it right.

The minister closed his prayer book. “I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride.”

She raised her head slightly and prepared herself for the impact of his touch. His lips brushed briefly across hers, making her yearn for more, then he pulled back and looked at her oddly.

“We're married,” he said.

“I know.” Her smile felt shaky. When he held out his arm, she tucked her hand into the crook of his elbow and allowed him to lead her down the two stairs to the first pew, where Mrs. Dobson sat sniffing into a handkerchief.

“That was so beautiful,” the older woman said and wiped her nose. “I've always loved weddings. Megan, that dress might not be a traditional gown, but I doubt any bride has looked more lovely.”

Megan glanced at the Worth gown and shrugged. “At least it's special. I'll remember this day if I ever wear the gown again.”

Bonnie bounced to her feet. “What's married mean?”

“It's a holy institution sanctified by God,” Mrs. Dobson said importantly, the perky feather on her black hat quivering with agreement. “A man and a woman live together for His glory.”

“Does that mean you go live with God?” the girl asked.

Megan smiled. “No, honey. We still live in Landing.”

“Good,” Bonnie said, and grinned. “I like it there.”

“I'm glad,” Mrs. Dobson said. “Now, you go wait by the buggy, while I talk with Megan and Justin. And don't get too close to the horses, you hear me?”

“Yes'm,” Bonnie said obediently as she raced out of the church. Her shoes clattered loudly on the stone floor, then were silenced as she skipped outside onto the new spring grass.