Romance: Detective Romance: A Vicious Affair (Victorian Regency Intrigue 19th England Romance) (Historical Mystery Detective Romance) (82 page)

John nodded at the bishop who nodded right back at him. There was a big heart in him all along. John saw his father in the corner or the room looking at him with the typical Amish reserve. But then he smiled and walked over.

“Son, I am so proud of you.” He hugged John. “You know that is all a father ever hopes for, that he can be proud of his son. Your mother would be proud too.”

“Father, I’m sorry for…”

“There is no
time
for that now. Right now is the time to rejoice,” said his father.

Mary and Deborah looked elated at the news. Especially Deborah. “So it looks like we are going to have even more time to get to know each other,” said Mary.

“Ya, and that isn’t such a bad thing,” replied John. He had not wanted to get his wishes up for Mary, for fear of disappointment. But now he allowed himself to dream. He saw Samuel walking out of the room, seemingly the only person who was upset.

“Come on, let’s go home,” said Deborah.

*****

That night, John was to bed court with Mary for the first time. It was something that he had never done before. “Hi,” he said when he got on his side of the bed. He didn’t know what else to say. “I kind of like that I can talk to you all night,” he continued.

“So do I,” whispered Mary. “How does it feel not to be sleeping on the couch? Do you feel more like family?”

John laughed. “I think I have a way that would make me feel even more like family though. Will you be my wife, Mary?”

Mary squealed. “Of course I will. You are my best friend, and what better than to be married to your best friend.” She wanted to jump out of bed and scream and tell the whole world. But what she wanted even more was to lay in bed and enjoy getting to know the man who she would spend the rest of her life with.

          Lorelei didn’t ride. She flew.

    
When Lorelei Harris mounted the ivory white mare that she considered both a loyal friend as well as a beloved pet, she left behind the everyday worries that plagued her mind and heart; running free with her horse across the emerald-hued meadow that bordered her expansive ranch in the heart of Austin, Texas, soaring together in the direction of a sprawling gem blue sky.

     Her long, curly blonde hair flew like a pennant behind her as she became one with her majestic mount; the golden sun overhead blessing their ride as the mighty hooves of Daffodil—her beautiful mare—thundered full and free on the ground beneath them.

    
Although Lorelei savored the quiet, solitary rides that she shared with her prized mount, a mount she had received four months ago as a gift for her 21rst birthday, she enjoyed even more the act of sharing the experience with her dearest friends; a group of cheery, fun-loving young people who formed the congregation of Willowbrook Methodist Church—the same church where Lorelei and her family had attended services for years.

    
Lorelei’s parents, longtime Texas ranchers Victor and Elaine Harris, took great pride in their daughter’s decision to start a riding club for the young people affiliated with the church; a youth ministry that would appeal to those interested in the equestrian arts or to those simply in search of some good clean fun in the sun – as well as some precious time with those who shared their strong Christian beliefs.

    
Lorelei and her friends cherished their weekly opportunity to commune with nature; to bask in the beacon of the Texas sun, to revel in the sight of statuesque magnolia trees and golden Texas roses, and the sweet song of the painted bunting, the blue grosbeak, and all of the other multicolored birds that filled the Texas skies.

     At times, the members of Lorelei’s club paused in their journey for a picnic lunch by a flowing brook; feasting on sandwiches and cold iced tea as they read from the scriptures of the Holy Bible and discussed their deeper meaning.

     Then at other times they sat in silence, praying in gentle communion as they shared a moment of quiet friendship in one another’s company.

     “The Lord meant for us to come together,” Lorelei told them on a regular basis. “God willed for us to be here, with one another.”

*****

“I am not supposed to be here with you.”

     Seated on the edge of
a lavish
rose print settee that formed the centerpiece of her upscale ranch house, Lillibet Townsend wore a daring red satin day dress that—with its tight-fitting bodice and low swooping neckline—did not seem quite in line with her usual fashion style.

     “Then again,” she mused in silence, biting her lip in a show of keen self-consciousness, “it is not my usual style to betray my husband either. Criminy, what am I doing?”

     Running a self-conscious hand through the ringlets of her luxurious ebony hair, Lillibet stared with wide eyes at the source of her temptation; and, God
help
her, her probable downfall.

    
When her husband John bought a new head of cattle a few months ago, he suddenly became transfixed with the concept of being the top cattle rancher in the state of Texas, and to achieve this goal, he began to spend day and night out on the range—sometimes camping out in the company of his cattle instead of coming home to his wife.

     Visiting a downtown saloon one night in a fit of restless desperation, Lillibet had made the acquaintance of a smooth talking gentleman named Jacob Clayton; an inordinately handsome man with shoulder length honey blond hair, twinkling sky blue eyes, sculpted cheekbones, and a
tall
sculpted form that begged to be touched.

     And so she did; inviting him to her ranch house on those lonely evenings when her husband was away on the range.

     For a full month of Saturday nights, she had sinned against her husband with a man who just might be the Devil himself, and at the present she was feeling a strong sturdy dose of Sunday morning guilt.

     “I’m sorry, Jacob, but I simply must stop seeing you,” she told him now, adding as she shook her head from side to side, “although my husband and I are having problems at the present, I did make a pledge
before
God to love and honor him.” She paused here, her
ivory-skinned
cheeks flushing bright red as she added, “And by romancing another gentleman under his roof, I venture to say that this is not a correct or efficient way to show my husband that I love and honor him.”

     Jacob laughed; a low, guttural laugh that sounded more like a cackle.

     “Just think of it this way, darlin’,” he urged her, all the while loosening the tight bolo tie that—in their society, at least—generally seemed the mark of a gentleman, “life can be a lot more enjoyable if we focus on our own happiness—and, for that matter, on making others happy as well.” He paused here, adding as he erased all distance between them on the settee, “Now just relax, sweet Lillibet, and let me make you happy.”

     For just a moment, Lillibet found herself once again surrendering to his kiss; his full moist lips massaging hers as her eyes drifted shut.

     And so, for that matter, did her mind. As an ardent Jacob continued to massage her lips with his, all of Lillibet’s ties and commitments dissolved from her mind as she lost herself in his kiss; her arms enfolding his muscled shoulders as she leaned into his tall hard frame.

     For just a moment, she was not John’s wife but Jacob’s lover, and at this moment in time, as his kiss and touch seized hold of her heart and made it pound at a feverish rhythm, that was all she wanted to be.

     The feeling was fleeting.

     “What is the meaning of this?”

     The couple jumped apart as they were now joined by an unexpected visitor; one whose face shone all too familiar to the woman who now called out his name.

     “John!” she exclaimed, recognizing all too quickly the thick dark hair and wide brown eyes of her handsome—if frequently absent—husband. “You told me that you would be spending this night camping out on the range!”

     John shook his head.

     “You told me that you would love and be faithful only to me,” he countered, voice barely above a whisper.

     Jumping to his feet, a stone-faced Jacob pulled back the fabrics of his gold mohair coat and grabbed the pearled handle of his ivory revolver; hoping against hope that he wouldn’t have to use it, right now and in his own defense.

     He gasped, amazed moments later, as his rival pulled out a far more powerful weapon, one that he never would expect to see wielded by a man.

     Tears.

     Raising his hand to his face, Jacob let loose with a torrent of emotion that made his broad shoulders shake with the weight of his feeling, accenting his sobs with
loud,
intense wails that further conveyed the
true
depth of his heartbreak.

     “You’re my wife,
Lillibet
,” he sobbed, adding as he sank down in a rocking chair that flanked their front door, “how could you do this to me?”

     Racing to his side, a repentant Lillibet wrapped a comforting arm around her husband’s shoulders and bent her head against his; herself shedding tears of intense guilt as she shut her eyes tight.

     “
Lillibet
,” Jacob spoke finally, his voice lacking its usual loudness and air of robust authority.

     Stealing a quick hard glance in the direction of her lover, Lillibet waved him with a dismissive hand in the
direction
of the door.

     “You have done enough damage here,” she told him finally, adding as she glared outright in his
direction
, “Please just go.”

*****

An hour later, Jacob found himself back in the secluded confines of his ranch house; a modest but well-kept home that came complete with hand-carved wooden furniture and
rawhide
wall hangings.

     Sidling up to the mahogany bar that formed a far corner of his sitting room, Jacob poured himself a glass of stiff whiskey and took a long drink; the burning liquid doing little to comfort him as he contemplated the events of the last few moments.

     Since sparking his heated affair with Lillibet—and, indeed, all of the times that he had chosen to dally with women who wore rings on their fingers—Jacob had told himself that he was doing a good thing; assuaging his own loneliness as well as hers as they both made one another very happy.

     Now he realized, however, that the motive behind their involvement had been purely selfish in nature. So entranced by Lillibet’s beauty—not to mention burdened by the solitude of his lonesome existence as a lone rancher on the Texas plains—he had put his own needs well above the sense of propriety and convention that had ruled the first 20 years of his life.

     “Then I turn 21 last year,” he mused with a sigh, “and I decide to celebrate by becoming a complete and total cotton pickin’ scoundrel.”

     Raised from infancy to believe and abide by the word of the Holy Bible, Jacob realized now that he had abandoned the good teachings of his upbringing and ruined the outright stellar reputation that his family—headed by veteran ranchers Ray and Annabelle Clayton, recently deceased—had worked so hard to build and maintain.

     “And all because I was lonely,” he released on a long hard breath, adding as he shook his head, “Can my parents up in Heaven ever forgive me for strayin’ down this
sinful
path? Can John and Lillibet?”

     “Can God?”

     This last question hung heavy over Jacob’s heart, causing him to bury his head in his hands as he asked himself, “What have I done?”

     Suddenly his head came up, and he squared his sturdy shoulders and stood upright as he came to a decision.

     “I have to change my ways,” he decided, adding as he slammed his small glass tumbler hard down on the bar before him, “I have to put down the bottle and pick up the Bible. I have to get back to church—back to myself, the very person that God and my parents intended me to become. A man of honor and virtue, with a high moral code.”

     He also knew, of course, that even the softest cover Bible would do little to keep him warm at night. He still needed a woman, to be sure; but he wanted this woman to be his wife, not someone else’s. More than that, he wanted a woman whose strong convictions and
firm
moral code would help set him back on the right path.

     “With all of the hours I spend on the ranch, though, I’m not at all certain as to when or where I’ll be able to find a bride,” he mused, adding as he cocked his head in a show of intense thought, “now my good buddy, Tim Neil, found a mighty nice gal by placin’ a newspaper ad—an aid for a mail order bride.” He paused here, adding with a shrug, “Desperate times call for desperate measures. First thing tomorrow mornin’ I’m headed to the newspaper office. First thing Sunday mornin’, I’m headed to church.” He paused here, adding as he shook his head, “Now I have no idea as to whether or not this grand plan will have any
earthly
chance of workin’—I just know I gotta give it my best shot.”

    
These words echoed in his mind Sunday next. Dressed in a long black duster coat with matching pants and a bolo tie, he headed off to the Methodist church built a few years ago at the edge of his ranch; a small but beautiful ivory white chapel lined with a sparkling bank of rainbow patterned stained glass windows.

     Passing through the brass handled double doors that fronted Willowbrook Methodist Church, Jacob took a seat near the back of the chapel and directed his gaze forward.

     This proved a bad move, as he found himself face to face with something of an angry mob, or, at the very least, a group of people as angry and mob like as one can get while ensconced in the confines of
a right
proper church.

     Since venturing into the dangerous waters that flowed free and rampant through the life of a sinner, he often found himself on the receiving end of any number of angry stares—many of them aimed by elders of the town who obviously disapproved of his lifestyle.

     “And they apparently do not make a habit of forgettin’ easy,” he mused now, tipping his wide brimmed ivory hat politely in their direction.

     His fellow churchgoers met this gesture with a defined angel’s chorus of “Harrumph!” except, of course, for one young lady who truly did assume the likeness of an angel.

     Although not a stunning beauty, the slender young blonde boasted wide blue eyes and a lovely smile, one she aimed in his direction from her place at the front of the church.

     Returning her smile in full, Jacob once again tipped his hat as their gazes caught and held, brimming with both warmth and keen curiosity as the air around them suddenly resounded with the gleeful notes of a nearby church organ.