Three Brides, No Groom (2 page)

Gretchen’s Story

Chapter 1

T
his was supposed to be one of the happiest
days of Gretchen’s life. The day was memorable, all right, but it would be
forever marked as a day of pain and betrayal. Emotion clawed at her throat, and
she battled tears. She wanted her mother, but her parents had already left the
campus. They’d driven up to Seattle from San Francisco to attend her college
graduation and were taking a few extra days to visit Victoria, British Columbia,
before returning home and making the final arrangements for her wedding to
Roger, and she didn’t want to bother them on their brief vacation.

Except Gretchen was beginning to doubt that there would be a
wedding.

She stood at the far end of the sweeping veranda of her
sorority house, out of view of her friends. Most were excitedly loading up their
cars with another year’s accumulation of treasures. She could hear their tearful
farewells, their promises to keep in touch.

Promises.

She held her stomach and raised her chin in an effort to
forestall the brewing emotion. Her long blond hair cascaded down the middle of
her back. Roger loved her hair long, enjoyed playing with it, brushing it,
burying his face in it.

“Sweetpea?” The sound of Roger’s contrite voice came from
behind her.

She’d always hated his pet name for her, but no amount of
protest could persuade him to come up with another.

Standing directly behind her, he cupped her shoulders and
nuzzled her neck. “Let’s talk about this, all right?”

“Talk?” Gretchen asked with a short abrupt laugh. As far as she
was concerned they had nothing to discuss.

“You’ve got to know Didi doesn’t mean anything to me.” Now his
hands were in her hair, lifting the thick tresses to his face. He wove his
fingers into it and brushed his lips across her crown.

Gretchen’s eyes slammed shut at the sharp pain.

“It was stupid,” Roger continued. “I want to throw up every
time I think about how incredibly stupid I was. My only excuse is that I was
drunk.”

“You cheated on me with another woman, and I’m supposed to
forget it ever happened because you were drunk?”

His hands returned to her shoulders and squeezed. “Didi’s
always had the hots for me. You said so yourself, remember? I…I wasn’t thinking
straight. I was with the guys, celebrating, drinking, and the next thing I knew,
Didi was coming on to me. She wouldn’t take no for an answer. Ask anyone. She
was all over me and…you know how those fraternity parties can get.”

Gretchen’s stomach clenched. “Don’t tell me any more. I don’t
want to hear it.”

“But I have to tell you. I need to. This is going to stand
between us unless you know it all. You’ve got to believe me, Gretchen, I’m as
sick about what happened as you are.”

She said nothing, too numb to argue.

“Didi knows we’re engaged, but that didn’t stop her. I told her
again and again that it was you I loved, but she wouldn’t listen. The next thing
I knew she’d stuck her hands inside my clothes.”

“In front of everyone?” Gretchen cried in disbelief.

He hesitated, and when he spoke, his voice was barely audible.
“We…we were in a closet.”

“A closet?” Gretchen nearly choked on the word.

“She was feeling me up, and, Sweetpea, I’m so very sorry, but
I’m only human. I was…excited, and then she had her mouth on me and was saying
things like she bet my uptown girl never did anything like this for me and—”

“I don’t want to hear any more,” Gretchen said again, more
forcefully this time.

“But it’s true,” Roger whispered. “You insisted on waiting
until we were married to make love, and I’ve respected your wishes. But I don’t
think you appreciate what sexual frustration can do to a guy.”

“In other words this is all my fault.”

“No, no. If anyone’s to blame, it’s Didi. When I woke up this
morning, I was sick to my stomach, knowing what I’d done. I couldn’t be sorrier.
Say you’ll forgive me. I’m begging you, Sweetpea. We can’t let someone like Didi
come between us. If you do something foolish, you’ll be doing exactly what she
wants. The only reason she came on to me was to hurt you.”

“And you let her.”

He paused. “Let’s put this behind us, all right? Mom’s looking
forward to you spending the next few days with her. All she can talk about is
the wedding plans, and that’s exactly what you need to help take your mind off
my unfortunate slip.”

So that was how he thought of infidelity, as an unfortunate
slip.

“What do you say, Sweetpea?”

She pressed her fingertips to her temple. “I need time to
think.”

“What’s there to think about? I told you everything. This isn’t
easy for me, you know. I just bet Didi took delight in letting you know what
happened. She’s just being nasty, looking to ruin both our lives. You’re not
going to let her, are you?” The soft pleading quality was back, the desperation
to make matters right, as if that were possible now.

“What did you expect would happen when you went into a closet
with Didi Wilson?” she demanded, whirling to face him.

His bloodshot eyes revealed his shock at being confronted. “I…I
was drunk.”

“Not too drunk apparently.” If he expected her to sweep his
indiscretion under the proverbial carpet, she couldn’t do it,
wouldn’t
do it. Not without giving the matter a great
deal of thought.

“The wedding’s less than a month away,” he protested.

He didn’t need to tell her the date of her own wedding. “Are
you saying it’s too late to change our plans?”

“You wouldn’t! Baby, please, don’t do anything stupid.”

“Like you did?”

He let her words soak in before saying, “Two stupid acts don’t
make a right.”

It amazed Gretchen how desperately she wanted to forget what
Didi had taken such pleasure in telling her. The other woman’s timing didn’t
escape Gretchen’s notice, either. While she’d been escorting her parents around
Seattle’s tourist attractions, her fiancé had been doing who knew what with
another woman.

As if that wasn’t bad enough, Didi had hit her with the ugly
details shortly after the graduation ceremony. Instead of getting to enjoy the
sense of exhilaration and accomplishment she’d felt on receiving her diploma,
Gretchen had seen her world fall apart when Didi cornered her on the front steps
of the sorority house shortly after her parents had left for Canada and
delivered her news.

“Mom’s waiting,” Roger pressed now, breaking into her
thoughts.

“Then she’ll just have to wait. I told you, I need time to sort
everything out.” Gretchen knew that his mother was not the patient sort. Stella
Lockheart was a forceful woman who generally got what she wanted. Both Roger and
his father catered to her wishes rather than risk dealing with one of her
explosive outbursts.

Gretchen could tell by the way Roger’s breathing altered that
he wasn’t pleased with her decision. He’d been calm and in control, at his
persuasive best. Now he was impatient and frustrated. Fine, so be it. She wasn’t
going to let him pressure her, nor would she be rushed because he was afraid of
a confrontation with his mother. This was
her
life,
and she was determined to take a long hard look before making a decision about
the future.

“OK, if that’s what you want,” Roger said shortly. “I’ll tell
Mom to go on ahead without you.”

She nodded.

He lingered a moment longer, his gaze boring into hers. “There
isn’t any reason to tell Mom about what happened, is there?”

Gretchen almost felt sorry for him. “Why would I want to
humiliate myself even further?” she asked.

He was visibly relieved as he turned and hurried toward the
parking lot. As Gretchen watched him go, the knot in the pit of her stomach
tightened. Needing to do something, anything other than stand there on the
veranda, she moved down the steps and began walking. She soon found herself by
the fountain, and with a heavy heart, she lowered herself onto the concrete rim.
The urge to bury her face in her hands and weep was nearly overwhelming, but she
had too much pride to publicly display her pain.

Most of the activity around the school had stopped. Graduation
was over, and the majority of students had already left the campus. She was
grateful for the quiet, a rarity at the university. She needed to mull over what
she’d learned, to assimilate what Didi had told her, followed by Roger’s weak
justifications.

Every time she tried to make sense of the cold ugly facts of
his infidelity, distance herself from them, she stumbled over the pain.

Again and again, Roger had told her how much he loved her, how
she would be the perfect wife for him. His insistence caused her to wonder if he
was mouthing his mother’s sentiments, not his own. A man who truly loved her
wouldn’t step into a closet with Didi Wilson. But at the same time, Roger was
full of regret. Despite her own pain, she could sense his. He was genuinely
sorry. She wanted,
needed,
to believe that.

One thing he’d said rang true. Didi had never made a secret of
how attractive she found Roger. Nor had she bothered to disguise her dislike for
Gretchen. It was probably that dislike that had prompted Didi to confront
her.

Didi’s neck had been covered with hickeys so livid that no
amount of makeup could fully hide them. She’d boldly walked up to Gretchen,
looked her in the eyes, smiled and then casually asked her if she knew what
Roger had been doing the night before. At Gretchen’s stunned silence, Didi had
crudely asked Gretchen if she thought she was woman enough to satisfy Roger’s
healthy sexual appetite. The question insinuated that she wasn’t and never would
be.

The roar of an engine shattered the peace. Gretchen glanced up
to see Josh Morrow speed across the campus parking lot on his Harley, a plume of
dark exhaust in his wake. He’d been cited by campus security a dozen times,
she’d heard, for driving above the speed limit, but it hadn’t fazed him.

Josh was a loner, a known troublemaker, a rebel. She’d spoken
to him once months earlier, and Roger had been furious with her. In the weeks
since, she’d avoided Josh, but that hadn’t stopped her from noticing him. He
stood apart from everyone, watching, studying. The outsider, looking in. He
hadn’t sought her out again, and she was grateful. She supposed it was natural
to feel a certain attraction toward Josh. She suspected a lot of the women at
Queen Anne did. Maybe it was the black leather and the motorcycle, the sense
that the love of a good woman would tame him.

Now her gaze must have lingered on him a second longer than was
prudent, for he eased his huge bike to a stop, placed his feet on the road to
maintain his balance and stared at her. After what seemed an eternity, he revved
the engine, then roared over the cement curb and onto the narrow walkway,
directly toward her.

Gretchen stood, her heart in her throat. The last thing she
wanted was company.

He pulled to a stop right in front of her. Lifting the helmet
from his head, he studied her for a moment and then asked with surprising
gentleness, “Gretchen, what happened?”

She stiffened, shocked that he had read her so easily.
“Nothing.”

His smile was decidedly off center. “You should never lie, not
when you do such a poor job of it.”

She lowered her gaze and rubbed her palms together. “It’s
something I’d rather not discuss.”

He stepped off the Harley and lowered the kickstand. “Fair
enough.”

His size was intimidating. He was at least six-two, maybe even
six-three, almost dwarfing her five foot eight. She crossed her arms over her
chest, wondering at his intentions. As if he didn’t have a care in the world, he
leaned over the fountain, scooped up a handful of water and drenched his
face.

He glanced toward her and chuckled, the sound low and teasing.
“Don’t worry, I won’t bite.”

“I’m not worried,” she lied.

His soft snicker told her she hadn’t convinced him. “I don’t
sacrifice virgins, either.”

“I suggest you don’t start now. I’d crawl off the altar.”

He laughed, but this time the sound was rich and deep. Ignoring
her, he turned his face toward the sky, and his features glistened as the water
dripped from his face. “Where’s lover boy this afternoon?” he asked.

His question caught her off guard. From his tone, it was clear
that Josh knew about Roger and Didi. How many others did? Her face filled with a
rush of hot embarrassed color.

“Who told you?” she asked, her voice low and trembling despite
her effort to remain cool and calm. Between Didi and Roger’s so-called friends,
the news must be everywhere by now.

“Is it important?” he asked. His words were soft, quiet, as if
he feared saying them would increase her pain.

“No, I guess it isn’t.” Some students thought of Gretchen as
privileged. While it was true her family had considerable wealth, when serving
as the student-body president she’d crossed swords with any number who willingly
tossed her background in her face. Her hard work as a communicator and
volunteer, and her fervor for honesty and justice, often won them over. Until
recently she preferred to think of her friends as many and her enemies as few.
Now she wasn’t so sure.

Josh’s gaze turned narrow and assessing, which increased her
embarrassment tenfold. She inhaled a quivering breath.

“Roger’s a first-class fool,” Josh said at last. “He deserves
to have his teeth kicked in.”

While in theory she agreed with him—she wanted to see Roger
suffer for what he’d done—her sensibilities didn’t lean toward violence. Roger
had allowed the blame to ricochet from Didi to Gretchen and then back to Didi.
Gretchen wanted to scream and demand that Roger accept responsibility for his
own actions. To own up to what he’d done, instead of listing excuses meant to
absolve him of any guilt.