Not the Marrying Kind (37 page)

The only question was whether he’d waited
too long. Could he make it back to Sunset before she walked down
that aisle?

Kat stared at the fancy beadwork of her
wedding gown, marveling at its exquisite beauty. Lucille’s mother
had done an astonishing piece of work in the short time she’d been
given. She’d designed a modest, but fashionable dress of white
satin, with a high neckline and long sleeves. Her nimble fingers
adorned the bodice with dozens of tiny seed pearls forming an
elaborate pattern, each stitch neat, precise, and nearly
invisible.

With less than twenty-four hours to go
before the exchange of vows, there would be little time for
last-minute alterations. When the dress had been delivered, Kat
perversely hoped it might be too big in the bust, too snug over her
butt, or ill-fitting in some other obviously noticeable way.
Instead, it fit as perfectly as the long white gloves Lucille gave
her as a gift.

Kat cried at the sight of herself dressed in
the shimmering gown.

Beautiful
.

She looked elegant, graceful, and utterly
feminine.

Of course, she had no right to wear a white
wedding dress, but Mama didn’t know that. It made no difference,
really. As far as Kat was concerned, everything about her marriage
would be a lie.

Tears spilled from her eyes, splashing down
to stain the shiny white satin skirts. Although women often cried
at thoughts of walking down the aisle, Kat wept for all the wrong
reasons. Tomorrow she would wear a dress symbolizing a purity she
no longer possessed. She would exchange vows that held no real
meaning for her as she wed a man she could never love.

Her marriage would be a mockery, indeed.

God will not be mocked
.

Kat knew what the Bible taught. She would be
punished for her sins. No doubt a lifetime of suffering awaited
her.

She glanced again at the cheval mirror.
Seeing her reflection through tear-filled eyes, she let out a
piercing wail. With her red-rimmed eyes, her wet cheeks, and
water-stained satin skirts, she looked hideous.

Maybe she should drive into town now and
call on Reverend Kendrick, she thought with a bitterness galling
her soul. If she weren’t so miserable, she might have laughed. With
one look at her now, he’d go running for the hills.

No, he wouldn’t. Reality quickly set in. All
the awful man would do would be to hand her a wet rag, tell her to
wash her face, and then remind her that the groom was not supposed
to see his bride-to-be in her wedding dress until the ceremony.

Damn, what an obnoxious man!

Kat needed more. Not a man who would order
her about, but a man who cared about her feelings, a man who would
listen to her concerns and allow her to speak her mind. Not a man
who abided by every rule and insisted she do the same, but a man
who knew that sometimes rules required breaking, a man who obeyed
the law—so long as the laws were just.

Footsteps sounded outside her bedroom door.
A moment later came a hesitant knocking, followed by her mother’s
voice.

“Kat? How does the dress fit?”

“It’s fine, Mama.” She choked back more
tears.

“May I come in? I’d like to see how it
looks.”

“I’m taking it off now. You can see it
tomorrow.”

She raised her hands and reached around to
the back, hoping to unfasten the neat row of buttons. At once, she
realized she could never slip the dress off without assistance. A
shudder coursed through her. Tomorrow night it would be her husband
who helped her.

“Kat, please. I’m your mother. Open the
door, dear.”

Letting out a groan, she did as she was
told. Mama was there to do more than look at Kat’s wedding dress.
It was time for
the talk
. Instructions on how a proper,
virtuous—and virginal—young woman should prepare herself for her
wedding night. Kat had been dreading this moment but hadn’t figured
out how to avoid it.

In a fit of pique, she considered telling
her mother the truth, confessing to the intimacies she’d shared
with Joshua, but in the end, that would cause more harm than good.
The kind-hearted man of the cloth had already forgiven her for her
sins and absolved her from the shame and stain of her past
indiscretions. He’d further agreed not to pursue Joshua or attempt
to cause him any grief. Doing so would result in too much
embarrassment. Instead, he would be noble enough to overlook Kat’s
sins and protect her sterling reputation.

Kendrick also made it clear that she must
never mention her indiscretions again. Not ever.

For once, Kat figured, the man was likely
right. Speaking now of those intimacies would only upset her
mother. Her father would probably die from a fit of apoplexy if he
learned the truth. Without the need to concern himself about Kat’s
reputation, Reverend Kendrick would go straight to the law,
somebody would track Joshua down, and he’d surely spend the rest of
his natural life locked away in some filthy cell as a result.
Fornication itself might not be illegal, but between Kendrick and
Kat’s father, jail-worthy charges against Joshua would surely be
trumped up. As though it were his fault!

He’d not been the one to seduce her. She’d
seduced him—not once, but twice! Would anyone actually believe such
a thing?

“Now, let me have a look at you, honey.”

Kat turned away, not wanting her mother to
see her tears.

But Mama, ever-observant, quickly threw her
arms around her daughter and hugged her. “No need to cry,
sweetheart. I know you’re frightened, but it really won’t be so
awful.”

“Please, not now.”

Mama paid her no heed. “Every young woman is
a little bit scared about her wedding night. I’m sure you’ve heard
talk about how painful and uncomfortable it can be, but—”

“It?” Kat almost laughed. “Why don’t you
just say it, Mama. For heaven’s sake, if you’re going to talk about
it
, at least give it a proper name.”

Amanda’s brow furrowed. She frowned. “A
proper name?”

“Intimacy, Mama. Conjugal relations.”
Bending closer, Kat whispered, “Intercourse.”

Her mother’s lips thinned into a tight,
straight line. “You don’t need to get smart with me, young lady.
I’m merely trying to spare you a bit of discomfort and
embarrassment, but if you prefer, yes, we can discuss it in a more
clinical manner.”

Clinical. That sounded about right for
Virgil Kendrick.

Kat winced at the thought of sharing
conjugal relations
with the dull, emotionless, passionless
man. It would be mechanical. Open legs, insert penis, pump
rapidly.

The absurdity of it almost made her laugh.
The reality of it made her nauseous.

“Mama, I’m not in the mood for this. Will
you please help me get out of this dress? I just want to be alone,
if you don’t mind.”

“Well, yes, honey, I do mind. It’s important
that you understand what those words mean, and don’t sass me and
tell me you know it all.” She stepped back, wiped a tear from the
corner of one eye, and held up a hand. “Please, even if you
do
know it all, let me hold on to my illusions of your
virtue.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Shocked at her mother’s
perspicacity, she had no choice but to listen, Kat knew.

“Now, turn around here. Let me undo these
buttons. Your wedding day,” she continued as she worked to unfasten
the gown, “should be the happiest day of your life. You’re joining
your life to that of a good man, honey. Maybe he’s not a dashing,
daring sort, but men like that aren’t reliable. They might give you
a burst of excitement, but then they’re gone.”

She paused, letting her words hit home.

Kat stepped out of the dress, leaving it in
a heap on the floor. Sort of like the way she felt. Discarded.
Unwanted. A weary heap of confused emotions. As much as she hated
to admit it, Mama was right. She hadn’t mentioned Joshua by name,
but she was talking about him sure as the devil, and sure as the
devil, Joshua was gone. He wouldn’t come riding back over the crest
of the hill tomorrow, or the day after that, or any other day.

“Reverend Kendrick will provide well for
you, Kat.” Mama picked up the wedding gown, and laid it out across
the bed.

“How can you say that? He can’t even provide
for himself.” Kat whirled around, eager to hurl whatever barbs she
could grasp. “Is that how you want my life to be? Going about,
depending upon the charity of one family or another to offer us
meals each night, hoping for a few pennies now and then to clothe
our children?”

The thought of procreating with Virgil
Kendrick made her stomach roil.

“He’s a good man, Kat, and you’ve got no
cause to berate him. He’s a man of God, and as such, he’ll always
be able to take care of you and whatever family you have together.
Don’t you understand? God will watch over you.”

“If He’s watching now, why won’t He help me,
Mama?” Kat broke down and flung herself into her mother’s arms. “I
don’t want to marry that horrid man!” she sobbed. I can’t bear the
thought of —of—doing
it
with him. I’d rather die, Mama.”

“Hush now, Katherine. Don’t talk like that.”
With a mother’s loving touch, she stroked Kat’s hair. “It won’t
really be so awful, and you won’t have to do it often. That’s what
I came to talk to you about. It’s doubtful you can avoid an
encounter on your wedding night, although you could certainly beg
for his understanding. He might—”

Kat shook her head and sank down onto the
bed. “He won’t. Trust me, he’ll demand his marital rights.”

“So, grit your teeth, grin and bear it, and
it will be over soon.” Amanda scooted her daughter over and sat
down beside her. “The man won’t give much of a performance, I’ll
grant you that. Truly, Kat, I doubt he’ll last longer than a minute
or two.” She laughed. “It’s probably shameful for me to speak so
openly with you, but you’re not a child any longer. You’re a woman
about to be married, and we might as well be honest.” She made a
wry face. “To a degree, of course.”

“Yes, of course.”

“No matter how much you do know, or think
you know, about sexual matters, you’ve still got a great deal to
learn. You’re not going to be the first woman to cringe at her
husband’s touch. I’m not saying intimacy is a shameful thing, but
I’m willing to admit it might not be a pleasant experience with a
man you don’t yet love. You see, that’s what matters most for a
woman. Loving and being loved. But as I’ve told you before, love
takes time.”

Kat’s thoughts went to Joshua. She’d quickly
fallen in love with him. It hadn’t required years or even months.
As for Virgil Kendrick? Kat could live a hundred lifetimes and
never feel the slightest affection for the man.

“It’s not going to happen, Mama.”

“Anyway,” Amanda continued, brushing aside
Kat’s words, “in the larger scheme of things, honey, security is
far more important than love. It’s a trade-off. You give your
husband what he wants, and he’ll see that you have security. And,
don’t worry, Kat, there are dozens of little tricks a clever woman
can use to discourage amorous advances.” Her cheeks reddened. “I’ll
admit, I used a few of them myself in the early days of my
marriage.”

“Tricks? Like what?”

“Pretending to feel ill after dinner.
Yawning, and feigning great exhaustion. Of course,
conveniently-timed migraines can also be useful.”

“Mama, that’s awful! It’s disgusting to
think a woman would have to rely on deception to avoid her husband.
What’s the point in marriage if that’s how it must be?”

Her mother’s sigh held a note of
exasperation. “We’ve been over that, dear. Like I said, love comes
in time.”

Love for Virgil Kendrick would never come.
“Are there more tricks?”

“Oh, dozens.” Amanda’s face brightened.
“Argument is quite effective, as well as nagging and scolding, but
you must be careful when and how it’s done. First, never in the
presence of others. Second, be certain it’s less than an hour
before your customary bedtime. Men can’t seem to perform well if
they’re angry or distressed.”

Kat leaned back and hugged her pillow.
Everything within her—heart and soul—cried out, begging for mercy,
but no reprieve came. She’d reached a point of darkness, so deep
and so desperate that her body went numb and all thoughts fled from
her mind.

All thoughts but one. “Please, Mama, make
sure Benjamin is safe.”

* * * *

Holding tight to her father’s arm, Kat moved
slowly down the narrow aisle. The walls of the little church seemed
to close in around her, suffocating her and choking off her breath.
It didn’t matter. Her life had little meaning now. In fact, she’d
rather be dead than married to Virgil Kendrick. She might as well
be. As his wife, she would know no happiness, no love, no desire.
All that made life worth living would be gone, but what a small
sacrifice to make, all things considered.

Her heart no longer mattered.

All that mattered was Benjamin.

With hesitant steps, Kat approached her
future husband. She kept her gaze downcast. The shimmer of the
elaborate beadwork on the gown caught her attention. So much time
and attention had gone into creating the wedding dress. It should
symbolize not only virginity, but undying love. It should symbolize
eternity.

Dear God, how would she endure the coming
years? When her days came to an end and she finally passed away
from this earth, hell would be a welcome relief from the misery of
her mortal existence. She prayed for strength. She prayed for
courage.

From behind the haze of her white tulle
veil, Kat lifted her gaze at last. Virgil Kendrick stood near the
altar, awaiting her with a greedy, leering grin. His slicked-back
hair gleamed with axle grease. Her stomach churned at the rancid
odor.