The Preacher's Daughter (17 page)

“I’ll go introduce them,” Lorabeth said, taking Ginny’s hand.

Suzanne and Clara left to find a hair ribbon Clara had dropped, leaving Ben and Ellie alone with Wes.

“It’s probably gonna seem awkward for a while,” Wes said to Ellie.

“Nothing will ever excuse my mother or what she did to us,” she said to him. “There are things you don’t know.” The touch of anger that surfaced surprised her. “Just the fact that you ever had anything to do with her makes it hard for me. I’m not an unforgiving person, but…”

“We’re all trying our best with the situation we have,” he answered. “I can tell you’re a fine person. I’m glad your life turned out the way it did.”

None of what had happened to them was this man’s fault, she reminded herself.

“You’ve met Caleb already?” Ben asked Wes.

“Oh, yeah. Booth manages to smash or cut something at least every other month. I’m sure you know about that with all your boys,” he said to Ellie.

She agreed with a smile.

“Well, let’s go find him,” Ben said and placed his hand on Wes’s shoulder as they walked away.

Ellie was struck anew by how much Ben resembled the man. Their hair, the broad shoulders, and now the way they walked. She was happy for her brother, she truly was.

And she tried not to feel hurt that he had found a father and a whole new family.

B
en’s nervousness grew as the evening passed. It hadn’t helped that when Luke Swenson had offered Ben a beer and he’d refused, Deputy Doyle had jokingly remarked that Ben was keeping a clear head for the night ahead.

Caleb had been standing among the small gathering of men. He’d given Ben a slap on the shoulder and led him away from the others. Next to Ellie, Caleb was the only one who even partially understood the strict standards Ben had set for himself and the reasons why. They stood side by side at the edge of the dance floor.

“Don’t let ’em get to you,” Caleb said.

Ben searched for Lorabeth in the crowd.

“She’s your wife now, and making love to your wife is a good thing. Nothing like what you saw as a boy, Ben. Nothing like it.”

“I know.” At that second, Flynn’s fiddle screeched, sounding like a young girl’s screams, and his heart pounded faster. “In my head, I know it.”

“The way she feels about you is all over her face,” his brother-in-law told him. “Just love her back.”

Ben studied the crowd and found her.

Lorabeth was the most beautiful woman Ben had ever laid eyes upon. In her ivory pearl-studded dress, she took his breath away. Her father had performed the ceremony and they’d taken their vows only hours ago. They’d been deluged with guests and gifts and cake ever since. When he looked at her across the social hall, he still couldn’t believe she was his wife.

She made her way around clusters of guests until she reached him. “Dance with me again,” she said, her eyes glowing, her cheeks pink with excitement.

He took her hand and followed her onto the dance floor, into the midst of friends and family who flowed aside and made a place for the bride and groom.

Apparently Flynn had noticed the crowd parting, and immediately the music changed to a slower more appropriately romantic tune. Ben took her in his arms.

“Are you happy?” he asked as they swayed to the music.

“Isn’t mine the happiest face here?” she answered with a question of her own.

He had to agree. She was absolutely glowing. He didn’t want to do anything to disappoint her. Not today. Not tonight. Not ever.

He’d made those vows and made them solemnly. This pure and innocent woman had chosen him, and it was his duty to honor her.

Just love her back.
Was he capable of the kind of love she deserved?

He’d started out wanting to protect her, but now he was involved. His head was involved, his body…his heart. He wasn’t feelin’ much like a protector. Hurting her would kill him.

“Caleb and Denzil have loaded all the gifts into the back of your buggy,” Ellie told them a few minutes later. “You can pull it into your carriage house until you have time tomorrow or the next day to unload it.”

“Sure,” Ben replied.

His sister gave him a smile. “It’s a custom for the bride and groom to leave early.”

Ben glanced at Lorabeth. “You’re right. We should go.”

Ellie laid a hand on the sleeve of his black coat. “Don’t be surprised if some of your friends pay you a late-night visit.”

Ben had never participated, but he’d heard the young people talking about the pranks they played on newlyweds. “You didn’t give ’em a key to my house or anything, did you?”

Ellie looked insulted and slapped his arm. “Of course not.”

“Just makin’ sure.”

He and Lorabeth exchanged a look and she gave him an uncertain smile. He’d put off leaving as long as he could. With a backward glance at his sister, he found their coats.

Whispers and catcalls followed them to the door, so he hurried her along. Once they were in the buggy, she took his hand. Her fingers were cold. They both knew what was on the other’s mind, but they hadn’t discussed it. He wouldn’t have known the first thing to say.

“We got lovely gifts,” she said.

“Yep.”

“I especially like the clock from your—from the Evanses.”

She was every bit as nervous as he, of course. More so, because she was the woman, the one admonished to submit to her husband.

“I’d never deliberately hurt you, Lorabeth. You believe that, don’t you?”

“Of course I do. You didn’t need to tell me.”

He stopped alongside the back porch. “I’ll stoke the stove before I put up the horse, so you can have warm water.”

Once he had a fire going, he pumped a kettle of water and set it on a burner. “You have some time now while I handle chores.”

She nodded.

Ben wiped down the animal, got him a bucket of water, then stood in the carriage house watching the bay twitch its ears and munch oats.

He had no idea how long it would take Lorabeth to prepare for bed. He was probably doing things all wrong and should have gone upstairs with her.

Minutes later he climbed the stairs and entered the bedroom to discover his thoughts were right. She was standing in the circle of golden light created by the lamp on her dresser, still wearing the gown she’d worn all day.

“My dress buttons up the back,” she told him.

So it did. He crossed the room and she turned her back to him. Several buttons at the top were undone and several at the bottom, but the center of the row remained fastened.

He fumbled with the tiny pearls until the back of the garment parted. Beneath it she wore delicate satin garments edged with lace and pastel blue ribbon. She let the front fall forward, and he saw then how stiff and heavy the beading had been.

“I’m itching,” she said, pulling her arms free and rubbing them, reaching for her shoulders. She made an attempt to scratch her back.

“I could rub in some glycerin for you,” he offered.

Her expression was relieved and embarrassed at the same time. “I had no idea this dress would get so uncomfortable.”

“I wasn’t wearing it, but I’d have to say it was worth it, seein’ you in it, I mean.”

She stepped out of the dress and Ben reached to pick it up. The weight surprised him. “You must feel like a horse free of saddle and blankets,” he said with a grin.

She placed a hand on her hip and said teasingly, “I don’t think I’ve ever been compared to a
horse
before.”

Seeing her in her underwear must’ve scrambled his brain. “Sorry.”

She laughed. “Guess I’d better get used to animal comparisons since I’m married to a vet.”

The familiarity of her acceptance touched him. He laid the dress across the cedar chest that sat under one of the windows. “You’ll take care of it later, I suppose.”

She moved to the dressing table he’d bought for her. She was slim and shapely in her delicate drawers and chemise, not as hesitant to face him as he might have imagined. But then what did she have to be ashamed of? She was beautiful. She was perfect. She was pure. And it was her wedding night.

He felt a muscle near his eye jump.

Lorabeth returned to him with a jar, twisted off the lid and offered it.

Ben took the glass container from her and dipped his fingertips. She turned her back and raised her hair away from her neck and shoulders, and his mouth went dry.

He smeared the cool substance across her irritated pink skin. Beneath his fingers every place he touched was smooth and soft.

“That feels so good,” she said.

Once her neck and shoulders were soothed, he worked the glycerin into her arms. They were slender and delicate like the rest of her. A gentle rise and fall beat at the base of her throat above the pearls she wore. He applied a cool dab to the pulse point.

She looked at him, her tawny eyes trusting. “What am I supposed to do, Benjamin?”

He wished he knew. He didn’t have a reply.

“Do you know what to do?”

It was his job to follow through with this act, to consummate their marriage and fulfill his obligation. The responsibility of being a husband weighed heavily on his conscience. “In theory.”

He desired Lorabeth. He was drawn to her like a honeybee to a sweet, sweet flower. But he didn’t want to ruin what they had by allowing lust to taint this moment.

She was a virgin, pure and untouched. He was a virgin, too, but he wasn’t pure by any means. He knew how to respect and honor his wife, but he was a man with carnal desires. If he frightened her or if she looked at him in disgust, he wouldn’t be able to live with himself.

“I like it when you kiss me,” she said, her tone suggesting he do so now.

“Lorabeth.” He glanced at the jar he held and set it aside. “It doesn’t have to be tonight,” he told her to assure her he had no intentions of rushing this. “If you’re uncomfortable…”

“Tonight or tomorrow night or a week from now, it will still be the first time,” she said logically. “And waiting might just make us more tense.”

Ben removed his topcoat and hung it on the back of a straight chair, then unfastened his tie and collar. Her gaze never left his movements.

He was the husband. Just love her back, Caleb had said. Love her as Christ loved the church, her father had reminded him. He’d observed that love was the element that made all the difference.

His hesitation became perfectly clear. Crystal, sparkling clear. These feelings of protectiveness, the worry of disappointing her, the fear of shaming himself…had all arisen from the fact that he loved this woman.

Loved her beyond reason or practicality or circumstances or responsibility.

A loud clattering sounded from outside, metallic banging, shouts and whistles. Lorabeth pressed her hand to her breast. “Whatever…?”

Benjamin sighed. “The shivaree.”

“The what?”

“It’s a mock serenade done for newlyweds as a prank.” After turning down the wick until the lamp was extinguished, he moved to the window, where he pulled the new drapes to the sides and tugged open the window. Clattering and banging accompanied an off-key rendition of “Beautiful Dreamer.”

Benjamin waved at the singers. “It’s the whole gang,” he said. “Parker, Zeta, Hobie, Ida. Carrie and Damian are with them, too.”

He closed the window and turned back. The pranksters tired of their singing quickly and moved on. “They’re gone.”

It had taken a few minutes for his eyes to adjust to the darkness.

Lorabeth remained where she’d been, her satin undergarments glowing white in the moonlight that streamed through the windowpanes.

Ben removed his shoes and socks, then his shirt. Stepping close to her, he ran his fingertips down the soft pale skin of her arms until he reached her wrists. He took both hands and brought the backs of her fingers to his lips.

She trembled in his touch. He wrapped his arms around her and held her against the thud of his heart, feeling her soft breasts against his chest. “
Please
don’t be afraid of me.”

“I’m not.”

He tangled his hands in her hair and removed the combs and pins that had held honey-colored ringlets in place all day.

When he combed his fingers against her scalp, she groaned. The mere sound of her pleasure brought his body to ardent life.

He leaned forward to kiss her, learning again her exquisite taste and textures. She pressed into him and raised one palm to his bare chest.

Her touch on his skin sent a hundred signals from his nerve endings to his brain and body. She tested his flesh with the tips of her fingers. When he moved his head to change the angle of the kiss, she flattened her palm and breathed a sweet sigh against his mouth.

Ben raised a hand to cup her cheek, feathered a caress down her neck until he touched the warm pearls. He broke the kiss to lower his face to her neck.

Tilting her head aside, she accommodated his kisses under her ear, along the column of her throat. After fumbling for the clasp, Ben removed the necklace and slipped it into the pocket of his trousers.

Lorabeth raised a hand to pluck earbobs from each ear and hand them to him. He dropped them into the pocket with the necklace.

Lorabeth’s skin tingled and she burned from inside. Growing warmth spread through her limbs. Each place Benjamin touched her fueled the intensity of this growing need to have more. His hands were slightly rough, a contrast she quickly learned to appreciate. His touches were gentle and inquisitive, thoroughly inflaming in a way she hadn’t imagined.

Her first tentative exploration of his chest had amazed and enthralled her. His body was broad, hard-muscled, and his skin held a spicy scent that tantalized her senses until her head swam.

She delved into his hair, finding it thick and silky, liking the shape of his head, the turn of his ear, the rasp of his jaw.

“I can shave again,” he said against her neck.

“No,” she answered. She didn’t want to interrupt what was happening between them. “Not now.”

“My chin doesn’t scratch?”

“No.” She wanted to hold on to him. Benjamin kissed her again, and she reveled in the tender caress of his lips, the inconceivable way he made her feel special and wanted.

She remembered the night he’d touched her breast through her clothing and the way she’d wanted the touch to never end.

She stepped back slightly, and he instantly released her. “Are you all right?”

She nodded and reached for the lace on her neckline to untie the satin ribbon with a little tug. Eight tiny buttons fell under her determined fingers and she shrugged from her chemise.

She wanted to feel his bare chest against her. He stood as though rooted to the floor, not making a move to touch her. Her heart thrummed so hard, he had to have heard it. Maybe he was waiting for more…

She untied the drawstring, let her drawers slide down her hips, then stepped out of the puddle of satin. She stepped closer to discover his eyes were shut. “Are you disappointed?” she asked, hurt.

His eyes flew open. “No! You’re beautiful. More beautiful than I imagined. You could never disappoint me.”

He touched her breast then, a tentative caress that tested the fullness, then cupped her. With an open hand he stroked her nipple. Lorabeth felt the glorious sensation all through her body.

Her nervousness about what was to come was overridden by the thrill of this new experience. Fascination set her nerve endings ablaze. All-encompassing pleasure heightened her senses and kicked aside any hesitation or embarrassment. At last she was breaking out of her stifling mold.