Chaste (McCullough Mountain) (40 page)

Colleen
smiled and faced him. “She’s quite lovely.”

Her
approval definitely touched him. “I think so.”

“It
must be hard, not having her mother here for all this.”

He
smiled sadly. “Do you think Italian Mary will be able to fix the dress?”

“She’ll
find a way. Doing so will make her feel superior and she likes that.”

Kelly
nodded and his aunt quietly said, “I can’t imagine losing your mother at such a
young age. I’m in my fifties and, while my mother’s still here, she hardly
recognizes us. I miss her every day.”

The
slow decline of Morai’s mind was something that affected all of them. Kelly
still couldn’t talk about the grandmother they’d lost to a disease the world
had no explanation for. He was grateful she was still living, but that didn’t
negate the way his heart broke whenever he found his mother or his aunts crying
for the parent who had, over time, become more like a child to them.

They
watched silently as Ashlynn spoke out of hearing range and Italian Mary
listened. It didn’t take long for Ashlynn to pull on the old woman’s
heartstrings. Soon the lid was lifted and the dress was fanned out over the
table.

Italian
Mary’s knobby knuckles pointed here and there, inspecting the aged lace, as she
spoke. Ashlynn nodded, a look of hope in her eyes. A while later, they stood
and Ashlynn hugged the older woman.

“Well,
I’ll be damned,” his Aunt Colleen breathed.

Italian
Mary gripped Ashlynn’s elbow, the box clasped tightly under the black sleeve covering
her arm, as they approached.

“Colleen,
take me home. I have work to do for Kelly’s bride.” Kelly smiled then his Nonna
gripped his cheeks painfully and slapped the mark. “You be good to this girl.
She is a keeper, eh?”

“I
will, Nonna. Thank you.”

She
nodded gruffly and gave his aunt an impatient look. Colleen grabbed her keys
and said, “I’m sorry we didn’t have more time to talk, Ashlynn, but I’m sure
I’ll be seeing you.”

When
they left Ashlynn sighed. “She’s nice.”

Kelly’s
eyes widened and he laughed. “They’re all nice, once you get past the thorns.”

* * * *

The
following weeks passed quickly. Ashlynn visited his Aunt Colleen’s home several
times for fittings and she always returned in a happy mood. His mother was not
speaking to him because they’d abandoned her dinner.

Kelly
wanted to protect Ashlynn from his family, knowing they meant well, but unable
to ignore his instincts that the interrogation could wait. Besides, his mother
had tricked them and lied.

They
met with Father Mark and were given their certificate of completion for the Pre-Cana
class. However, when it was time to leave the priest held him back.

“I’ll
be hearing your confession now, Kelly.”

Kelly
hesitated, trying to laugh off the suggestion, but saw no humor in the priest’s
eyes.

“I’ll
meet you in the church,” Ashlynn said, excusing herself from the office.

“Have
a seat, son.” Father Mark returned to his desk and Kelly slowly returned to the
seat he’d vacated, dread building in his stomach.

“Shouldn’t
we go to the confessional?”

“Here’s
as good a place as any. Do you remember how to begin?”

Kelly
nodded, the old practice reawakening in his mind. He made the sign of the
cross. “Bless me Father, for I have sinned. It’s been years since my last
confession.”

Father
Mark nodded for him to continue.

“Since
my last confession, I’ve taken the Lord’s name in vain. I’ve missed church.”

“Why
do you miss church, Kelly?”

“I
work late the night before.”

“Can
you not attend a different mass?”

“I
could. I’m going to start.”

“Is
this because it’s important to you, an act to become closer to God, or is in an
act to appease your fiancée?”

“All
of the above.”

“Ashlynn
has a strong faith. I believe if you don’t close yourself off from that faith,
she’ll help you restore your relationship with God. Tell me what other sins
you’ve committed.”

“Well,
I haven’t killed anyone, so that’s good.”

Father
Mark waited.

Kelly
sighed. “I’ve had premarital sex. Lots of it. Buckets full.”

“Have
you shared this with your fiancée?”

“She
knows about my past.”

“Have
you and Ashlynn engaged in premarital relations?”

“No.
We’re waiting.”

Father
Mark looked surprised. “Very good. Do you remember your Act of Contrition?”

Kelly
stumbled through the long prayer. Before he left, Father Mark dished out his
penance. “For your penance, Kelly, I want you to say the rosary, once for each
woman you’ve had premarital affairs with. As you say these prayers, I want you
to think about what the act means and how the importance differs when shared
with a spouse. I would like to see you in church more often and would have you
stop cursing.” He made the sign of the cross and said a prayer, absolving Kelly
of his sins.

“That’s
it?”

Father
Mark laughed. “That’s it. Go with God.”

Chapter Thirteen

Ashlynn
was getting married in two days.
Two days!
She’d spent the week
preparing her home for Kelly, cleaning out extra drawers and scrubbing every
wall and floor. She didn’t think he’d notice, but she wanted everything
perfect.

Maureen
had paid Roy a surprise visit, something her father was still recovering from.
The way he described it, Kelly’s mother stormed into the house and gave herself
her own guided tour, speaking of lace and ribbons and a world of things she and
Roy knew nothing about.

Ashlynn
called Kelly the minute she’d found out and he’d made it very simple.

“Do
you feel the need to be
bridezilla
? Because if you
do, I’ll make it happen, but if you don’t, if you just want to sit back and let
them handle all the girlie crap, here’s your cue to let them go hog wild,” he’d
said.

She’d
considered everything a wedding entailed and rationalized she’d probably
overlooked more than half the stuff most brides prepared. Her dress had
overwhelmed her enough. Beyond that, she’d handled the church. Everything else
was for their parents. There was no harm in letting the McCullough women handle
the details. “Will they harass Roy? I don’t want him overwhelmed in his own
home.”

“Roy
has a gun. Tell him to shoot anyone that gets out of hand.”

“Kelly!”

“What?
You said he’s a terrible shot.”

“No
one’s shooting anyone.”

“You’re
no fun.” He sighed. “Look, do you want to do all that wedding stuff? I mean
really?”

“No…”

“So
let them go nuts.”

And
she did, saving herself a ton of worry over things she didn’t know.

* * * *

As
she was pulling on her shoes to go visit Kelly at the pub there was a knock at
the door. Peeking out the window, she didn’t recognize the SUV parked in her
driveway. Opening the front door, she stilled. “Sheilagh?”

The
fiery little red head smiled wickedly and cocked her hip. “All right, Ashlynn,
enough’s enough. We’ve let you play your little game of dodge the crazies, but
time’s up. It’s time to induct you into the McCullough clan right and proper
like. Grab your purse and get in the car.”

Ashlynn
frowned. “What?”

“Just
tackle her arse and throw her in the trunk!” A woman with red hair yelled from
the passenger seat of the SUV.

Ashlynn
gave Sheilagh a panicked look and Kelly’s sister arched a well-manicured brow,
telling Ashlynn
that
was an option. She quickly grabbed her bag and
slung it over her shoulder as she stepped onto the porch.

“There
you go,” Kelly’s sister said, smiling like a cat over a big fat bowl of cream.

She
followed her to the car. “Where are we going?”

“O’Malley’s.”

“Oh,
good. I was heading there anyway.”

Sheilagh
laughed, but didn’t say anymore. She held the back door of the SUV open and
Ashlynn spotted Mallory and Colin’s wife, Samantha. “Ashlynn, this is Sammy, my
sister Kate, and you know Mallory. Everybody, this is Kelly’s bride, the escape
artist.”

Her
eyes bulged when she saw the size of Samantha’s stomach. She slid in beside the
woman and Mallory handed her a tiara and a tartan sash. “Don’t worry,” Mallory
said. “Once the whisky sets in you’ll feel no pain.”

“I
don’t drink.” Ashlynn buckled her seatbelt.

Sheilagh
climbed behind the wheel and backed out of the drive. “Of course you drink.
You’re a McCullough now.”

They
arrived at O’Malley’s and Ashlynn’s worry faded when she spotted Kelly’s truck.
He’d make sure nothing got out of hand. She followed the girls into the pub,
Samantha waddling at the rear.

As
they stepped in the pub, Ashlynn stilled. The crowd was shouting and cheering
as several broad backs crowded around whatever was happening at the bar. She
didn’t see Kelly.

“Girls,”
Sue greeted. “Your room’s in the back. Come on.”

They
followed Sue to the back and Ashlynn craned her neck to see what all the
shouting was about. Her jaw dropped when she spotted Kelly, without his shirt,
lying on the bar, as one of his brothers poured liquid right from a bottle in
his mouth.

“
Freeeeedommmm
!”
her
fiancé roared and the men cheered.

Their
voices bellowed out a masculine chant.
“
McCullough! McCullough!
McCullough!”

Samantha
nudged her. “Keep
movin
’. I need a seat before my
sciatica kicks in.”

She
entered the back of the bar and stilled. Pink and black balloons filled the
room and there were more women she didn’t recognize. She spotted Kelly’s mother
and his Aunt Colleen. They were chatting loudly over music and slurring their
words.

Ashlynn
was dragged to a chair adorned with more balloons and handed a glass. “Drink,”
Sheilagh demanded.

She
put the glass to her lips, smelling the sweet syrupy scent of diet cola. The carbonation
tickled her nose and she sputtered as a new taste hit her tongue. They’d spiked
her drink.

Her
glass was removed from her hand and a gift was hoisted onto her lap. The women
spoke loudly, demanding she open it. She adjusted her tiara and pulled the
ribbon. As her fingers lifted the lid she found a lovely teacup with Irish
detail around the rim.

“The
entire set will be delivered to your house tomorrow. I didn’t want to bring it
to the pub and chance it getting broken,” Colleen said.

“Thank
you.”

Another
gift was placed in her lap, this one a fancy new blender, then another and
another. The gifts kept coming and so did the drinks. Little bursts of giggles
kept creeping up on her and she was oddly dancing in her chair as she quietly
opened the presents and thanked each individual. Whatever was in her cola was
giving her a peculiar warm feeling.

Kelly’s
sisters approached with a large box. Sheilagh smiled widely and handed her a
card. Ashlynn opened it and read, her face heating as the meaning set in.

From here on ye shall be Irish by
injection.

May he always rise up to meet
you,

May he drag his hands over your
back,

May you bear him many sons,

May the reins fall softly at your
feet.

And when he bosses may ye not
give a
flamin
’ sheet.

A McCullough Irish Blessing.

She
untied the ribbon and found it connected to whatever was inside. It was a
hamper. Her fingers wound and pulled the ribbon. Out came a silky strip of
fabric. Heat rushed to her face, forming what was likely a furious shade of
red. It was a black lace nightgown.

The
woman cheered and passed the ribbon down the line. Out came another strip of
lace and silk, and another, until a beribboned clothesline surrounded her, a
lace piece of lingerie handing every few feet.

“That’ll
get me some new grandbabies!” Kelly’s mother yelled.

Kelly’s
Aunt Rosemarie slapped her sister’s shoulder and said, “Like there’s any
question of Kelly’s virility. He’ll be sowing his seed the moment he mounts
her.”

Dear
Lord, they were all insane!

There
was a loud clatter from the other part of the bar and the doors burst open. The
man in question stumbled in. “Ashlynn, love, I’ve come to rescue you!”