Contract to Wed by Holly Bush Page B

have murdered her or beat her. She was foolish beyond
belief but was desperate to leave Willow Tree.”
    “Because of your mother?” Max asked.
    Jolene nodded. “Yes. Because of my mother.”
    “I sure hope Melinda never feels that way about me,” he
said. He was half-hoping that Jolene would console him or humor him and say
Melinda would never feel that way and that he shouldn’t worry. But his wife was
not one to fuss over him.  “It’s a lovely evening, Jolene. Would you like
to take a walk?”
     
    * * *
     
    “Yes. Thank you,” she said and stood
as Maximillian held her chair.
    She walked through the massive double doors at the front of
the house onto the tiled front patio, and Maximillian joined her. He winged his
arm, and she took it. They walked out into the pasture land, past the corrals,
and barns along a well-worn path leading into a copse of trees. It was quiet
other than some far-away birdsong. They walked until they stopped at a small
stream; Maximillian released her arm, and she seated herself on a boulder just
to the side of the path. The air was clean but heavy with the smell of mosses
and some late spring flower she could not identify. It was dusk, and the canopy
of leaves made it darker still. Maximillian propped a foot up behind her, and
she heard him strike a match and smelled his cigar.
    “Julia is plump, my sister Julia, that is. She was never
very organized and a bit clumsy as well. She was often the target of our
mother’s displeasure and she was of the unfortunate personality to show it.
When Mother said unkind things to me, I acted as though it didn’t matter.
Julia, however, cried and looked alternately terrified and humiliated,” Jolene
said. “Mother could never resist picking at her for that very reason.”
    “But you stayed out of her path by acting as though it
didn’t matter to you what she thought,” he said.
    “Yes.”
    Maximillian sat down next to her and leaned back on the
boulder. He put his arm around her shoulders and leaned her back across his
chest. He twirled a lock of her hair in lazy circles. “But it did matter to
you. How could it not?” he asked.
    Jolene lay stiffly in his loose embrace. It felt so foreign,
so unnecessary, but as she looked at the trees above her and smelled his soap
and smoke, she was lulled to relax. “That was why Grandmother Crawford’s death
was such a blow. There were no soft words any longer, no encouragement, no . .
. love. Of course, it mattered. Of course, it did.”
    Jolene had no idea how long she lay there. She didn’t sleep,
and she didn’t think he did either but she could feel his breathing, easy and
deep. They didn’t speak any more, and of that she was glad. It was unnerving
how quickly she revealed confidences to him. What was it about her husband?
    The air was cool near the stream, and night had fallen. Maximillian
sat up, and so did Jolene. He draped his jacket around her shoulders after
shrugging it off when she shivered. She felt his hand on hers, and he led her
slowly out of the trees and onto the path where the moon shone brightly.
    “The Cattlemen’s Ball is in two weeks. I’d like to take you
and introduce you there,” Maximillian said. “I thought we might stay the night
afterwards at the hotel instead of making the ride home. It will probably be
late.”
    Jolene looked up at Maximillian’s profile, dim, in the moon
light. A hotel room? Did her husband intend on sleeping with her? She thought
about this tall, solid man beside her as he would pull a shirt off over his
head preparing to climb in bed. She didn’t for one moment think Maximillian
would force himself on her. But the pulsing between her legs and the heaviness
of her breasts told her that he would not need to force himself. She would be
willing, and welcome his advances.
    “Is this a large event?” she asked.
    “Very large. One of the fanciest socials there is around
here, and I’ll need the support and the money of some key