Authors: Sylvia McDaniel
Her quick intake of air was the only sound he heard, until he felt the sting of her palm against his cheek.
Wade reached up and rubbed his smarting cheek. “Hmmm. People should see you hit me more often Rachel. Then we wouldn’t be asked to stand up at weddings.”
“How could you say such an awful thing.”
“Because it’s the truth. And I’m sick and tired of your complaints about the deal we made. No, it’s not the best of circumstances, but you’re going to reach Oregon.
“I know but—”
“Damn it, Rachel!” Wade jumped up. He rubbed a hand across his face. “I’ve kept my hands off you for the last three hundred miles. But if you keep giving me fiery kisses and looking at me with those honey stares, I won’t…I’m not made of steel.”
* * *
A week passed before Frank decided the wagon train could halt early one afternoon for Emily and Tommy’s wedding. Rachel had seldom seen Wade, but had reflected constantly on their last conversation.
His words had echoed in her head until she wanted to scream. He was right. She had known it for quite some time, but refused to acknowledge the truth, protecting herself from the real feelings that continually plagued her. It wasn’t the pretend marriage that bothered her, rather the fact that she wanted to marry Wade. She wanted to be his wife in every sense of the word.
Wearing a borrowed black suit coat, a white shirt with a matching bolo tie, Wade looked more like a banker than a rough-and-ready gambler. She’d never seen him dressed in anything besides his everyday work clothes. And quite frankly, after seeing him all duded up, she couldn’t help but wonder how the man could care about a spinster like herself.
The groom stood beside Ethan and Wade under a makeshift canopy of wildflowers. Rachel stood to the left of Ethan, darting quick glances at Wade. They were a mere three feet apart, close enough that she had to resist the urge to brush a piece of lint from his collar. Close enough for her to smell his cologne. Close enough to stir the rapid beating of her pulse.
Emily floated down the makeshift aisle formed by guests toward Tommy. Candlelight reflected off her best calico dress. Tommy’s love shown from his face like a beacon guiding Emily to him. As they came together, the two young lovers shared a secret smile that clogged Rachel’s throat and threatened her with tears.
She bit her lip to hold back the cry that welled up inside her. This was what she wanted. This was what she needed. And she wanted this fantasy with no other man but Wade.
“Dearly beloved we are gathered here today…”
The words left Rachel with an unsettled feeling of familiarity. She couldn’t help but glance at Wade. His green eyes gleamed in the candlelight, their intensity touching her, swaddling her in a cocoon.
As they stared at one another, she became lost in the sensations of his gaze. No one else existed; only the two of them stood surrounded by candelight and flowers.
In her vision Ethan spoke to her and Wade, as if they were reciting vows of love and devotion. It was their wedding. She knew at that moment she loved this man. Had probably fallen in love with him long before now, but until this moment couldn’t admit the truth.
“Tommy, wilt thou take this woman to be thy wife, and wilt thou pledge thy troth to her, and promise to love and honor, and protect her, in sickness and in health, as long as you both shall live according to the ordinance of God and in the holy bond of marriage?” Ethan asked.
Rachel never heard Tommy’s response as she stared at Wade, somehow hearing him answer instead. His emerald eyes seemed to touch her everywhere, and Rachel’s skin tingled with awareness, her body flush with its own natural response.
“Emily wilt thou take this man to be thy husband, and wilt thou pledge thy troth to him and promise to love and honor and obey him in sickness and in health as long as you both shall live, according to the ordinance of God and in the holy bond of marriage?”
Rachel swallowed the lump in her throat, her mind automatically crying out I do. She watched as Wade closed his eyes, as if savoring the moment. Could he be feeling the way she was, lost in the realization of the moment?
As the vows were spoken, Rachel could not resist the magnetic pull of Wade’s gaze. He looked at her as if he wanted to consume her with his eyes. And she wanted nothing more than to be in his arms. As the ceremony continued, Rachel realized that though the vows had not been spoken, somewhere along the trail, she had stopped pretending to be Wade’s wife and had married him in her heart.
Ethan ended the service with a prayer, but Rachel barely remembered the words as she stood with head bowed, reeling with the discovery of her feelings.
She loved Wade.
When the prayer ended, Ethan presented the couple to the waiting crowd, who welcomed them with hugs and congratulatory slaps on the back.
Rachel stood in the background, waiting for some signal from Wade. His face was drawn and tight, but his eyes were hot and intense. She watched as he licked his lips nervously.
They stared at one another, somber and quiet, until Rachel was certain she had misread the message in Wade’s eyes. Maybe the wedding hadn’t wrung his heart out as it had hers.
“Hey Ketchum, come help us move these tables so we can eat,” yelled Homer Jenkins.
“Just a minute,” Wade called impatiently to him.
He grabbed both of her hands in his and placed a gentle kiss on each of them. “Ah, Rachel.”
His gaze communicated everything Rachel knew he couldn’t say, knew he would probably never say. But just the same, she tingled from head to toe. Unawakened areas of her body were suddenly alive with fire and yearning for him.
He kissed her hands again, making her shiver in expectation. “Save all your dances for me. I promise I’ll be back.”
* * *
Wade slipped away from the crowd, into the dark cover of night. He watched Emily and Tommy dance to the sounds of the fiddle. Happiness glowed from their faces, brighter than the light of the campfire, and for a brief moment he was jealous.
Rachel sat beside Mary, tending the children. He ached to go to her, be with her, dance with her, but most of all he wanted to take her back to the wagon and make love to her.
Gone was the ugly black mourning dress and in its place was a gown of pale blue cotton that showed off her shapely curves. The bodice fit snugly against her breasts, its high neck edged in ecru lace. She had pulled her hair up into a shower of mahogany curls, loose and flowing, tempting his fingers.
God, what had the woman done to him?
She had changed his life. Loneliness had been his only companion until she’d come along and brought a joy he had been missing. What would he do when she was gone?
Like a fifteen-year old boy experiencing his first woman, Wade tingled whenever Rachel was near. But his desire for her went beyond bodily sensation. Something about her made him want to put down roots, have a family, make her happy and do whatever it took to keep her by his side. And that surprised the hell out of him.
Did he love her?
All he knew was that during the ceremony, he’d been drawn to Rachel as never before. He’d wanted to cry out, stop the wedding, stop the vows until Rachel consented to be his wife.
If this wasn’t love, then he needed to see a doctor. The symptoms were all there, had been there for awhile, but he hadn’t wanted to admit to those feelings. He loved Rachel.
Wade glanced at Rachel talking to Mary. He clenched his fists, the thought of leaving her, no matter what the reason, was agony. Damn, this wasn’t supposed to happen. He wasn’t supposed to fall in love. There was no room for a woman in his life. He had a brother to find, a ranch to start, but the thought of life without Rachel seemed to have lost its appeal.
Across the fire, Rachel met his gaze and smiled. The welcoming curve of her lips drew him to her like a moth to flame. His hands shook whether from fear or joy he didn’t know. Right or wrong, he had to be with Rachel.
With certainty in every step, he walked to her, knowing this night would forever change the two of them, for better or worse.
She glanced up at him, her eyes golden in the firelight.
“May I have this dance?”
“I thought you’d never ask,” she replied, her voice whisper soft, her cheeks flushed.
Rachel followed him as they joined the waltzing couples. The grass made the waltz more a marching drill than a smooth glide, but Wade floated on air. Her soft body in his arms felt like a homecoming. Rachel belonged in his embrace, and when he pulled her close, the smell of lilacs and honeysuckle whetted his appetite. Her scent made him want to put his tongue to her skin and taste her, to see if she was as sweet.
“Where were you?” Her voice was soft in the cool evening breeze. “You disappeared after you helped set up the tables.”
Wade didn’t know how to tell her the truth. He shrugged. “I had some things on my mind, I had to sort out.”
She tensed slightly in his arms. “Weddings can do that, make you think about things you’d rather ignore.”
She reached up and brushed a lock of hair from his face, her fingers soft and caressing. He almost moaned. Night after night she’d tempted him until he wondered how much more he could take before he lost all control.
“Rachel”—he whispered huskily—“don’t look at me like that.”
“Like what?” she asked, widening her eyes.
Wade took a deep breath, trying to ease the pressure building within his body. “I can only take so much. You’re driving me crazy.”
Like soft bells, her laughter floated on the evening breeze. “How could an aging spinster drive a man raised in a saloon full of women crazy?”
Pulling her closer, he felt their bodies glide against one another. “Easy. Just keep looking at me like I’m desert, and you’ll soon find out.”
Tilting her head, she studied him. “Apple pie. You remind me of apple pie. Kind of sour until enough sugar is added, and then it’s just right.” Bands of gold circled the dilated pupils of her eyes, touching him with warmth everywhere.
“You make me feel more like pecan pie, nutty and hard.”
She laughed her voice deep and husky. “Why are we talking about desert when we’ve not even had supper yet?”
Wade knew they were flirting with danger, but he couldn’t restrain himself. This was a new side of Rachel, the blooming of a passionate woman, and he wanted to be the gardener.
“To hell with supper. I’m craving something sweet.” Wade put his nose against her neck and inhaled. “You smell wonderful.” He ran his tongue along the curve of her neck, and she shivered. “You taste better.”
“Wade. people are watching.”
“Let’em. I’m past caring.”
“What would cure this sweet tooth you’ve suddenly acquired?” Rachel said, her voice shaky.
“Don’t tempt me, Rachel,” he warned. “I can’t take much more.” He put his lips to her temple and sighed against the top of her head. “I can’t eat. I can’t sleep.”
She pushed back in his arms, her warm honey eyes dilated with passion. “Don’t you think it’s the same for me?”
Her open desire stunned him. “Dear God, what do we do now?”
Rachel cast her eyes down shyly. “What do you want to do?”
“I know exactly what I’d like to do,” he replied.
Rachel glanced up into his emerald eyes, glittering with desire and felt as if she were being consumed. Her skin rippled with awareness. A tight spiraling palpitation started in the pit of her stomach, a sensation she often experienced in his presence. If only tonight would last forever.
Closing her eyes, she pushed aside all doubts, her fears; letting her love for Wade fill her completely. She wanted this night with Wade, her candlelight husband.
“Take me home,” Rachel said, her voice low and deep. “Take me home and show me how to cure you of this craving.”
Wade stopped among the other dancers. “Do you know what you’re saying, Rachel?” he asked. “It’s one thing to talk about it, but don’t tease me.”
Her heart pounded loudly in her own ears, but a yearning, a need to be with him silenced her fears. She took a deep breath and swallowed. “I’m ready to go home, Wade.”
He pulled her away from the dancing, away from the crowd and into the trees. Darkness wrapped about them like a cloak.
“What about the kids?”
“Mary’s been lonely, so she asked if they could spend the night with her and Ethan tonight.”
“The woman’s a saint!” He swung Rachel up in his arms and began walking to their wagon.
Rachel laughed, the sound echoing nervously in the night. Wade was hurrying her toward their wagon as if he were afraid she’d change her mind and run away. She knew what was going to happen, and she tingled with anticipation.
The path was dark, with only the coals from the campfire to guide them. Long dark tresses at the back of his neck glided through her fingertips. Exploring gently, she ran her fingers along his ear lobe until she found his jaw.
With gentle pressure, she turned his head toward her and kissed Wade softly. He stumbled.
“Rachel, wait, honey,” he whispered against her mouth. “I can’t think when you do that.”
She didn’t want him to think, she didn’t want to think herself. Because if either one of them came to their senses, they would step back from this foolish chance they were taking.