Promises Prevail (The Promise Series) (10 page)

“Breathe for me.”

She hesitated.

“Now.”

She did, expecting nothing, but shockingly, getting a breath of cool, fresh air.

Her reward was the relaxing of his expression and a return to his embrace.

She put her palms against his chest. “I’m okay now.”

“Just to be on the safe side, we’ll rest here a bit.”

“We’re in the middle of a wedding.”

“Since we’re the main attraction, I expect they’ll wait.”

His hands on her back didn’t allow her to move away. She was eternally grateful she’d chosen a heavy duty corset. She might feel like a sausage, but all Clint would feel was a smooth silhouette.

As if reading her mind, he tapped one of the ribs.

“This can’t be helping your breathing.”

The blush started at her toes and burned over her face.

“I just get nervous.”

A quick glance up showed he was frowning at that piece of information. She dropped her gaze to his throat. He had the most beautiful skin. The hint of red under the brown always made her want to nibble, just a little to see if he tasted as hot and spicy as the cinnamon he reminded her of. She dropped her forehead against his chest. Oh heaven! She was in church and she was having carnal thoughts. She was as bad as her father always said.

“You can let me go now.”

As always, her voice lacked the force she wanted so she wasn’t surprised when he merely held her.

“In a minute.”

“I won’t seize up again.”

“I know.”

She frowned, pressing lightly with her fingers. There was no give to the man.

“How do you know?”

“Because you know you’re safe with me.”

“I do?”

It came out louder than she anticipated, bringing everyone’s attention back to her.

“You’re supposed to save that for the reverend,” someone hollered.

The panic began again, deep inside where it always started. A finger slid under her chin, the rough skin scarping her softer flesh.

“Look at me.”

She did.

“You’re not going to panic.”

“I’m not?” It sure felt like it to her.

“No. You’re going to stay calm, and walk with me up to the front of the church and say your vows. Then we’re going to have some of that wedding cake Priscilla’s daughter baked.”

“I am?”

“Yes.”

“And I’m not going to panic?” The last was said on a wheeze as she glanced around his arm to see everyone watching her again. Especially Cougar. His darkly handsome face hard with disapproval. Clint turned her face back to his.

“You aren’t.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“Because I have you.”

And just like that, he turned, tucked her into his side as if she were tiny and delicate, and calmly started down the aisle. She had no choice but to go with him. Her skirt swishing around his legs, his arm taking most of her weight. When she stumbled, he turned her to face him, bringing her hand to his lips, kissing the palm, staring into her eyes as he backed her the rest of the way to her position.

The sigh that rose from the young women in the crowd let her know the gesture looked wildly romantic. In reality, it had kept her from falling on her face.

He’d done as he’d promised. He’d gotten her to the altar, safely, her pride intact. She shouldn’t have been surprised. Clint was known to be a man of his word.

His hand at her elbow steadied her as she faced the reverend. The eyes on her back were like the touch of a stranger. Uncomfortable.

“All set now?” Reverend Swanson asked. Clint cocked an eyebrow at her.

She whispered, “Yes.”

A floorboard creaked as Cougar leaned around his cousin. His deep gold gaze flickered over her before he leaned back and asked out of the side of his mouth, “You’re dead set on this?”

The words weren’t meant for her to hear, but she did. She didn’t look at Cougar or Clint as he debated his answer. She’d seen the signs. God had sent her Clint as an answer to her prayers. If she just believed in that, everything would be all right.

Still, when Clint’s “Yes” rumbled out in his deep voice, she breathed a sigh of relief. She was doing the right thing.

* * * * *

“It’s time to go, Jenna,” Clint said two hours later.

Jenna clutched Brianna a little closer. Fed and changed, the little girl was almost asleep, and her muffled grunt said she didn’t appreciate the gesture.

“We’ll take very good care of her,” Mara promised. The hunger in her voice made Jenna uneasy. Everyone knew that Mara wanted a baby as much as they knew that Cougar feared losing her to childbirth. She didn’t want to leave Brianna here. What if they didn’t give her back?

Cougar took a step forward. His long hair slid over his massive shoulders as he reached out. Jenna barely kept from pulling back as he stroked Brianna’s tiny back.

“I’ll keep her safe for you,” he promised, his golden eyes dark. Everyone knew a promise from a McKinnely could be taken to the bank. Still, Jenna couldn’t let her go.

“It’s okay, Jenna,” Clint said.

But it wasn’t. A dribble of drool dampened her shoulder.

“I think maybe we should reconsider—”

“If you’re going to tell me again that we don’t need time alone,” Clint interrupted, a smile hovering around his mouth, “you’re wasting your breath.”

“Every couple needs some get acquainted time,” Dorothy, Doc’s wife, spoke up as she came closer, the basket Jenna had packed in her hand.

“But we’re not…”

Clint sighed and pried the baby out of her arms. “We’re married, Jenna.”

Reverend Swanson stepped forward, licking frosting from his fingers. “And in one of my nicer ceremonies, too, if I do say so myself.”

He ran his tongue around his thumb. The gesture was so unconsciously sensual that Jenna did a double take. Sometimes it was hard to remember that this tall, lean, muscular man was a man of God.

“I wasn’t going to say we weren’t married.”

She watched in agony as Clint passed Brianna over to Mara.

“Doesn’t matter what excuse you were working on,” he said, “I want to be alone with you.”

“But five days…”

“Will be just enough to whet my appetite.”

The men laughed. Jenna blushed, and Dorothy swatted Clint with a towel.

“If your mother was here she’d wash your mouth out with soap.”

Clint ducked a second swat. “Lucky for me then that she’s living the easy life back East with Dad.”

Dorothy handed Jenna the basket. “You just ignore those buffoons, Jenna. Too many trips to the back door has addled their brains.”

The basket weighed a ton. Jenna shifted her grip. Clint had been drinking? The feeling that her life was spinning out of control intensified.

“My shop…”

“Is in good hands with Lorie,” Clint countered, taking the thick, expensive wool cloak he’d insisted she needed off the hook by the door.

“Lorie is very competent,” Mara said, looking totally natural rocking the tiny baby in her arms. The image of the perfect little family was completed when Cougar stepped beside his wife, and she immediately relaxed into the shelter of his side.

“But will she remember to feed Harry? And that Jonas has to eat in the restaurant or someone will take his food away?”

“I’m sure she will,” Clint countered, holding out her cloak. She ignored his hint.

“Sometimes the other customers complain.”

“I can handle complaints,” Lorie said, coming forward. Jenna looked at the tall competent woman. She just bet she could. Lorie looked the type who could handle anything. She’d probably handle her shop better than she did without one single blonde hair on her head falling out of place. Her customers probably wouldn’t even miss her.

“You have to remember to feed Harry. I’ve just started putting weight on him.”

“I’ll remember. Every day at sundown a plate of food at the back door.”

“With milk. Make sure you give him enough. I don’t want—”

“Him to lose weight,” Lorie, Clint, Mara, Asa, Cougar, and Doc finished for her.

Their amusement hit her like a blow. She ducked her head, her voice dropped to a whisper but she couldn’t let it go. “He’s just come so far…”

They probably thought she was ridiculous for worrying about another discard, but Harry mattered to her and so did Jonas even if they weren’t particularly pretty right now.

The heavy weight of the cloak settled on her shoulders, the fur trim on the hood brushing her cheeks “Harry, Jonas, your shop, and little Brianna are in good hands, Jenna.”

Clint’s hands lingered after the cloak was settled, but the stroking of his fingers didn’t alleviate the finality of his words. The life she’d so carefully built for herself the last six months was now firmly in the care of others, and she was once more a wife with nothing to call her own. She stepped out of Clint’s hold and said the only thing she could.

“Thank you.”

She put the basket on the floor, shrugged out of the heavy cloak, and put it back on the hook. She reached for her old one.

“What are you doing?”

She turned to Clint. “Getting ready to go.”

“It’s cold outside.”

“I know.”

“You need a cloak.”

“I’m getting one.”

“What’s wrong with the one you just had on?”

A bark of laughter came from the other side of the room quickly followed by a, “This ought to be good.”

Jenna wished she had the courage to shoot Asa a glare for his interruption, but she just didn’t dare rile the ex-gunslinger. She pulled her perfectly serviceable cloak off the hook.

“It’s new,” she told Clint.

“I know. I bought it for you.”

“It’s snowing outside.”

“I know.”

She buttoned the top two buttons of her cloak, the others having long since disappeared.

“It’ll get wet.”

“It’s supposed to get wet.”

She reached in her pocket to pull out her knitted gloves.

“I’m not having my brand new cloak get wet and muddy.”

Clint took the gloves out of her hand and tossed them on the table.

“I’m not having my brand new wife get cold.”