Diamond Spur (20 page)
"I heard that!" Gene called through the open door.
He was working at an easel while Cherry, in a beige pantsuit, was curled on the couch watching a soap opera. "Why, Gene, that's very good," Kate exclaimed, peering at the half-finished canvas that depicted Cherry in a lazy, sultry mood. It captured her elfin quality completely. "Cherry, you'll
love it, you're gorgeous."
"So are you, honey," Cherry laughed. She got up to hug Kate. "I'm so happy for you."
"Same here," Gene grinned, glancing past her at Jason. "And stop smirking, will you, big brother? Lots of men get to be fathers." "Most of them don't manage it on the first attempt," Kate mused, watching Jason look uncomfortable.
"Well, well," Cherry said with a speculative look at Jason, who pretended not to see it.
"How about a toast?"
"Only with caffeine-free tea or something harmless," Jason said. "No alcohol. It isn't good for the baby." "Yes, sir, Dr. Donavan," Kate agreed, and smiled. He lifted an eyebrow. "Go ahead. Argue." "Not me. I agree wholeheartedly." After they all toasted her health and the baby's, Kate took Cherry off to one side and enlisted
her help with the wedding. The younger girl was delighted to assist in planning. Sheila would be pressed into service as well, to deal with the caterers. Kate and Cherry planned to go together to choose the invitations the next day. Thank God Jason was rich; he could pay for the rushed printing job.
Afterward, while Kate went upstairs with Jason to look at the master bedroom, Gene and Cherry went back to their painting.
"He never does a damned thing around here,'' Jason said shortly as they went down the wide hall. "Except paint and have exhibits. But he never sells anything. God, Kate, he's my brother and I love him, but I can't break my back supporting him for the rest of his life."
"Yes, I know." She slid her hand into his big one, shocked at the way he actually flinched. She started to draw it back, but his fingers contracted suddenly. He looked down at her. "I'm not used to being touched," he said softly, pausing before an open door. "It had been over two years since I'd had a woman, that afternoon with you."
She was shocked. Actually shocked. Her eyes stared into his without total comprehension.
"Did you think I was a playboy?" he asked, his eyes intent on her face.
"I guess I did," she confessed.
He searched her eyes for a moment, wondering how shocked she'd be if she knew just how inexperienced he really was. He led her into the big bedroom. It had exquisitely large furniture, very dark and obviously hand-carved. The bed was king-size, and had four tall posters with a chest at the foot. The dresser and chest of drawers were on opposite walls, across a thick beige carpet. The coverlet on the bed was quilted and depicted a Western landscape. The earth colors in it were reflected in the woven drapes as well as in the two leather armchairs beside the rock fireplace. There was even a daybed, a holdover from the post-Civil War days.
"It's very masculine," Kate said.
"No woman has even set foot in here since I've been the head of the household," he replied. He lifted his cig
arette to his lips and looked down at her. "You'll be the only woman I've ever made love to in this room."
She trembled at the husky warmth in his voice as he said that, and she almost took a step toward
him. But the spotting and the cramps had frightened her, and she knew now that intimacy had a
kind of violence all its own. A violence that could harm the baby.
"What is it?" he asked. "Something's upset you. What?"
"The baby," she whispered, searching his eyes worriedly. "It's dangerous, the first three months...." "I see." He lifted his chin and studied her eyes. "Did Harris tell you to avoid intimacy?" "No," she said honestly. "But, it might be as well if you talked to him," she added hesitantly,
because she didn't really want that.
"Only at gunpoint," he said mockingly. "I don't need a lecture on my evil ways. And I can wait. I know what you're thinking. We're a pretty violent combination when we make love. I don't want to hurt the baby any more than you do."
She managed to smile. It would make things harder, of course, if they didn't have that physical bond to ease them over the rough spots. But there was a very real risk that she might lose his baby, and she didn't want him to blame himself if something went wrong.
"I'll understand if you want me to sleep somewhere else," she faltered. "I mean, I know it's difficult for men..." Jason drew her closer, his lean hands gentle on her arms. "Kate, I don't want you anywhere at night except beside me," he said bluntly. She sighed. "I was hoping you'd say that," she whispered, her eyes on his chest. "But I was
afraid to ask."
His hands contracted. "Why?"
"Because I know you're marrying me because of the baby, Jason," she said quietly. "You don't have to pretend it's out of undying love. You aren't any more in love with me than I am with you. And because of that," she said, carrying off the lie beautifully, "I didn't feel right about asking for any special favors. But I'm scared and I don't want to be alone."
He didn't move. After a minute, he released her and moved away, looking quietly out the window. "It isn't a special favor," he said finally. "There's a daybed. I'll sleep on that, and you can have the big bed. If you need anything in the night, I'll be handy."
"I'm sorry about everything," she said hesitantly. He laughed coldly, and he didn't look at her. He couldn't. What she'd said about not loving him hurt. "So am I," he said. She turned away toward the door. "I guess I'd better get you to take me home, if you don't mind. I have to get supper for Mama and me."
"You can stay to dinner with us," he said, turning.
"Mama and I will only have a few more evenings together," she replied. "I'd like to enjoy them." He shrugged. "Suit yourself," he said carelessly. "Come on, then. I'll drive you back." She followed him down the hall, but this time she didn't try to hold his hand. She felt as if he'd
just slammed a door between them and locked it, and she wondered if it was because she'd asked him not to sleep with her. That only reinforced her earlier idea, that what he'd felt for her was nothing more than desire. And that had already burned out when he came back from Australia. It was going to be a rough marriage. She only hoped she could stick it out long enough to show him how much she loved him. And maybe when the baby came, he might feel a little more for her than he did now.
Kate wondered at the power of easy cash, when she saw how quickly their wedding invitations had been printed and mailed out. Jason had reluctantly agreed to wait two weeks so that Kate, Cherry, and Sheila would have time to get caterers, organize a reception, and have the invitations en
graved and mailed.
Kate was a bit relieved about the delay, because she and the design staff were tearing their collective hair out trying to manage the last samples before the salesmen carried them out the door. The showings were barely three weeks away, and Kate's stamina was wearing thin. It was
the worst possible time to get married, but Jason was adamant. He didn't want Kate showing when they spoke their vows.
"I'll never get it all done in time," Kate moaned as she and her mother ate supper two nights before the wedding. "I'm worn to a frazzle already, and I still have another week's work ahead of me with twelve-hour days. Even with Cherry and Sheila helping, organizing the wedding is killing me."
"Can't some of the other girls help with the design deadlines?" Mary asked.
"Not with the actual designs, no," Kate sighed. "And I'm helping do a couple of the patterns, too, to save the pattern makers some time. They're already behind. It's such a mess. Why does Jason want to get married this fast? Most people know I'm pregnant; does it really matter if they can see that I am?"
Mary smiled gently. "It matters to your future husband."
"My future husband is going to be one big handful," Kate told her mother. "I can see what a peaceful relationship we're going to have because he's already making angry noises about the time I'm spending at the plant He hates the whole idea of my having a career."
"You'll change his mind."
"I'll have to, won't I?" Kate asked with a bittersweet smile.
"Kate, you do love him?" Mary said unexpectedly, the green eyes so much like her daughter's narrow with concern.
Kate hugged her. "More than my own life," she confessed, "although he doesn't feel that kind of loving for me. But I wonder if he's really capable of giving himself, Mama. He's been locked up in his shell for a long time."
"If he has, then you're the only one he ever gave a key to," Mary reminded her. "Think about it. He never would let anyone else get close."
"I'll try to remember that," she agreed. She didn't add that Jason's attitude had grown more and more distant since her visit to the house the night they became engaged. He was pleasant and attentive and overwhelmingly concerned about her. But it was a surface kind of thing, and the man beneath the mask was as enigmatic as ever.
The sight of her dress on Dessie's rack the next morning caused Kate to catch her breath. The other women gathered around, all smiles, to watch as she held it against her.
"It's glorious," Kate sighed. "It's just glorious."
"You designed it, darling," Dessie reminded her. "I just put the pieces together. And it will knock their eyes out, you mark my words. Try it on. Let's see how you look." Kate didn't need encouraging. She ducked behind the screen that the models used and fumbled her way into the yards and yards of satin and alencon lace.
It had an exaggerated keyhole neckline and an empire waist, with a long train because she'd always wanted one. The leg of mutton sleeve variation tapered to a point over the back of her hand, with pearl buttons to close them at the wrist. Kate had used the satin mostly without a lace overlay, except for the skirt and lace appliques at the cap of the sleeves and on the long point of the cuff. The skirt was elegantly full, and there was a delicate feathering of alencon lace appliques on the hem. The gown was accented by a Juliet cap from which the veil was draped, and when Kate looked in the mirror, she felt exquisitely beautiful.
"Wow," was all Dessie had to say.
"I can't believe I designed that." Kate shook her head, delighted with the fit. It was as comfortable as it was lovely, and she wondered at the talent she wasn't even aware of having. Sometimes she felt as if she was looking at someone else's designs, because the ideas came out of thin air and seemed to settle on paper before her startled eyes.
"Well, you did. And it is gorgeous!" Dessie assured her. "You'll be on the cover of
Vogue
in that!"
"I'll settle for not passing out at the altar," Kate whispered conspiratorially.
"Well, we, uh, did rather wonder at the waist measurement," Sandy confessed with a smile.
"A bit large for a perfect size ten, which you were," Dessie agreed.
"Not large for a pregnant lady," Kate reminded them. She sighed. "I know it's jumping the gun and all that, but I'm just shockingly thrilled about the whole thing," she
added with a flush. "I've wanted a baby since I was eighteen. Not that this is exactly the most orthodox way to get one...."
"If you want it, and you're going to love it," Dessie began, "and your future husband wants it as much, I'd say that's going to be a very happy baby."
Kate smiled. "He does want it. Very much."
"Congratulations, then," Dessie said, hugging her. "And thank you for sharing the news
with us, before it's official."
"I hope your invitations came?" Kate asked hesitantly, because Jason's list had some very prominent people on it and Kate's friends were largely plant people. Considering her feelings about her career, it wouldn't be unlike him to simply cross them off the list if he disapproved the invitations.
"Got mine this morning," Dessie said, and Kate could have dropped with relief when that news was echoed by the other staff. "I hear Mr. Rogers got one, and that Roberta even had one. She's flying down for the wedding."
"Oh, how lovely," Kate laughed. "She was so nice...." She hesitated. "And Clarisse?"
"If that's the black designer, she said she can't come," Sandy said. "She's been given a huge
break. Roberta's brother has hired her for his couture house! She's working as an assistant
designer!"
"But she insulted him," Kate gasped. "She told him off royally, at his own party, too."
"He likes spunk, I'm told. Anyway, Clarisse said to say thanks for the invitation, and only getting
ready for her own show at the Waldorf would stop her from coming to your wedding. She says
she'll see you in New York when they show your collection with the other Clayborn lines."
''I'll look forward to that,'' Kate said, and meant it. "Being on Seventh Avenue during market
week is going to be an experience. And thank you so much for my wedding gown. I can't tell you how grateful I am...."
"Sure you can," Dessie assured her. "Go ahead. And you just remember me when you get your own house and you need a sample hand."
"And a cooperative and highly talented designer," Sandy seconded.
"And two marvelous assistants with great taste in trim purchasing," Pamela and Becky added.
Kate hugged them all. "You bet I will!"
But when she finished, late, and went home with her beautiful dress carefully bagged, she was worrying about that trip to New York. Jason had been adamant about making her give up her career. And since she was pregnant, she had a feeling it was going to mean one royal battle to even get to go. He'd be busy with roundup again during those two weeks, and that might be her out If Kate had to, sh
e
could sneak away without his knowing. It felt dishonest, and if anything went wrong with her pregnancy, she was going to hate herself. But as Dr. Harris himself had said, all the precautions in the world weren't going to help if she wasn't meant to have the baby. And in the past few days, there had been no spotting and no cramping. So perhaps her worries were over.
The day of the wedding dawned with rain in the forecast Kate was at the Donavan house, getting into her beautiful dress helped by her mother, who was in a beautiful lavender floor-length dress that Jason had taken her to buy. Kate moaned when she heard the report.
"Why does it have to rain?" Kate asked the mirror as she fixed her face. "Why today, of all days? I'm only ever going to get married once in my whole life, so why can't the sun come out?"
"Rain is a good omen," Sheila assured her blithely.
"The best," Mary agreed.
"Sure," Cherry added, "anybody can have a sunny wedding. Yours will be special."
"Has anybody seen Jason at all?" Kate asked quickly as they fastened the hooks of her wedding gown. "I haven't seen him since I got here with mother."
"He was in his room getting dressed when I came upstairs," Cherry assured her. "Now, don't worry. He isn't going to do anything terrible like leaving you at the altar. Have you got your something blue?"
She did. A blue lace handkerchief. Her something old was a small garnet ring that her grandmother had left her. Her something new was the gown itself.
"I don't have anything borrowed," she exclaimed.
"Here," Sheila put a small coin in her hand. "That's an English sixpence coin. A boyfriend of mine gave it to me, long ago, and its been my good luck piece ever since. It will bring you luck, too."
"Put it in your shoe,' Cherry suggested, and Kate slid it into the toe of her white pump.
"I'll pass out at the altar, I just know I will," Kate groaned. "I feel nauseated already."
"Did you take that morning sickness tablet?" Mary asked.
Kate hesitated. "I don't like to take medicine of any kind," she confessed. "I'm so afraid of hurting the baby." "That's understandable," Mary agreed, "but Dr. Harris is as stubborn about drugs as you are, and I guarantee he wouldn't have prescribed anything he thought might hurt the baby."
That made sense. Kate reluctantly took the pill with a swallow of juice and finished dressing.
The huge living room was clear of furniture, and chairs had been placed there for the ceremony. There was an altar with candles on either side, and huge pots of ferns and flowers everywhere. An aisle ran between rows and rows of strange faces in elegant dress. A pianist played a medley of wedding songs in one comer, and the minister of the local Presbyterian church, Reverend Samuels, was talking to Gene at one side of the altar. The Donavans had been Presbyterian for two generations, while Kate's family had been Baptist for an equal length of time. Since Jason had been so easygoing about the invitations, she hadn't made a fuss about having his minister perform the ceremony.
Kate, standing quietly on the staircase, felt more nervous by the minute. There was no one to give her away, since her father was long since dead. She'd have that long walk alone. Cherry was her matron of honor, as Gene was Jason's best man. It would be a very simple but elegant cer
emony, although Kate was sure that she noticed at least two reporters. They had huge cameras and tape recorders.
Kate felt her mother's gentle touch, and turned to see her smile. She smiled back, nervously, her hands clutching the bouquet of white orchids Jason had sent her.
The prelude suddenly began. Jason was already at the altar. Cherry went next. And then the wedding march announced Kate. She almost tripped getting down the steps, but she recovered quickly. She had to appear calm. She had to look regal. That was her gown she'd designed, she couldn't disgrace it by fumbling down the aisle.
Her chin went up. She smiled cooly. Her eyes found Jason at the altar, his dark head with its back to her, and she walked toward it. He had a sexy nape, she thought irrelevantly. Kate felt dozens of eyes watching her. She wondered how many of those elegant guests knew that this was a sort of shotgun wedding.
At last she reached the altar. In a daze, she heard the minister performing the ceremony while Jason faced straight ahead and only looked at her when they exchanged rings. Jason had purchased simple gold bands for both of them, nothing frivolous. Later, he'd told Kate, she could
have a different design if she wanted it, but these would suffice for now because they didn't have the time to shop for permanent rings.
As Kate looked down at the thin band of gold on her finger, she heard the minister, somewhere in the back of her head, pronouncing them man and wife. She looked up into Jason's steady, quiet eyes as he slowly lifted her thick veil out of the way and looked at her. After a brief hesitation, during which his eyes darkened, he bent and kissed her. His lips were cool and brief. He lifted his head a fraction and searched her soft eyes.
"No," he whispered, "no, not like that. Like this...."
And he kissed her again. This time, it was everything it should have been. Kate grasped his muscular arms through the fabric and held on while his hard mouth warmed hers. A long, exquisite moment later he drew away, and the smile he gave her, although she knew it was only for the benefit of the guests, like the kiss, was the tenderest she ever remembered seeing on his hard face.
After they left the room, Kate ran upstairs to change. They were flying to Jamaica for three days, a short honeymoon because of work pressures on his part and Kate's. They were to leave following the reception. It was all very rushed, but Jason had insisted that it was the only way to
do things.
The reception was very brief. Kate spoke to Roberta and introduced her to Jason. She wasn't quite prepared for Roberta's very warm attitude toward her new husband or the frank desire in the woman's eyes. Kate was having second thoughts about her newest friend. She hadn't realized that to Roberta, a wedding ring had never been a barrier. Not that Jason responded. It was fascinating to see his black eyes turn Roberta away without a single hard word to mar the day. He couldn't have made his disinterest more obvious if he'd worn a hands-off sign. Kate had seen him back down fighting cowboys with nothing more than that level, cold, unblinking stare. It had a sobering effect on most sane people.