High Plains Promise (Love On The High Plains Book 2) - Simone Beaudelaire

Steamy Western Romance Novel Set In 19th Century Kansas

High Plains Promise (Love On The High Plains Book 2) by Simone Beaudelaire

Book excerpt

Allison Spencer and her sister sat at the most level of the uneven tables at Lydia’s café with the proprietress and Kristina Heitschmidt. The restaurant had closed a couple of hours ago and now the four ladies had gathered in the large, empty room. Outside the rows of massive windows, a stiff wind sent the twigs on the naked, stunted trees whipping, compounding the vision of a bleak, gray early December afternoon. Though the heat of the kitchen warmed the dining room, the chill seeped in around the door and windows. Allison cradled her cup of hot coffee with gratitude while the warm flavor of gingerbread cake heated her insides.

“I still just can’t believe it,” Lydia said, taking a sip of her tea. “How long have you two been courting in secret?”

“We haven’t been,” Kristina insisted. “We’ve been fighting for the longest time, almost since he first arrived.”

“Well then, what happened?” Lydia asked.

Allison met Kristina’s eyes briefly. Should I mention the shocking sight I saw at church the other morning? Kristina, half-dressed, sound asleep in Cody’s arms on a pew cushion, which had been laid out beside the fire. I suppose they behaved, that the snowstorm caught them together inside the church and nothing more, but it looked bad, and they’ve been talking of marriage ever since.

She decided not to speak. Let everyone think Cody and Kristina are marrying because they want to, not because they compromised each other. From the way the two of them now looked at each other, not to mention the sweet kisses they’d been caught sharing since then, it seemed that was the case anyway.

On one hand, I’m truly delighted for her. Since her teenage years, Kristina has been convinced that no one would marry a red-haired, freckle-faced woman. I’ve never agreed with her assessment. Now, pink-cheeked and smiling a silly, woman-in-love smile, Kristina was engaged to quite a startlingly handsome man. A man who treated her like the priceless treasure she was. There’s no bad part of, not even the quick pace. A wintertime wedding will be lovely.

Despite her joy, desperate jealousy gnawed on Allison’s guts. Not because of Cody. Handsome though he is, Reverend Williams does not make my heart beat faster. He’ll make a perfect husband for Kristina, but I don’t want him. I want Wesley.

All these years after his betrayal, she still loved him with all her heart, with every fiber of her being. Allison suffered another pang of horrible guilt, as she had ever since Samantha’s death. I never liked the woman, never wished her well, and now she’s dead, and Wesley destroyed. He must have loved his wife after all, and not me anymore.

“You know,” Becky said, forcing Allison’s attention back to the conversation, “it’s quite fashionable to wear all white for a wedding these days, and you would look marvelous in it, Kristina.”

“I love the idea,” Kristina said, blushing furiously at the compliment. “Is there really time to make a dress? The wedding is only a week away, but I do like simple things …”

“No, there’s no time for a whole dress,” Becky told her bluntly, “but I know you have white shirtwaists. If you wore one of those, I would have time to make you a white skirt to go with it.”

Kristina beamed. “Perfect. I love the idea. I can look like myself, only a little more… dressed up.”

“Do you have white shoes?” Becky asked.

“Oh…” Kristina pondered for a moment. “No. I have light grey ones. They’ll have to do.”

Becky shrugged. “Close enough. It’s much too late to order new shoes.”

“I like the statement all white makes,” Allison commented.

“So do I,” Kristina replied. “I mean, you all know what happened, right?”

Oho, so she’s going to spill the beans, after all, is she? Allison allowed amusement over her friend’s adventure to lift her spirits.

Becky and Lydia shook their heads.

“There’s been some gossip,” the café owner said, “but I don’t believe a word of it. As if you or the pastor would behave in such a way.”

“Here’s the unvarnished truth,” Kristina replied. “I was caught outside in the blizzard and barely made it to the church. I think I nearly froze to death. I was getting sleepy.” The ladies shuddered. Everyone knew what that meant. “Cody was inside, and we were trapped there alone together until morning. So yes, we were ‘compromised,’ but we didn’t do anything wrong. We talked, worked out our problems, and agreed that since we would have to get married anyway, we might as well be happy about it.”

“Did he kiss you?” Lydia asked, wide-eyed.

“Yes,” Kristina replied, cheeks flaming again. “More than once. But nothing more, I swear.”

“Oh, well that’s fine then. Certainly not worth gossiping about,” Lydia said.

“I agree,” Kristina replied firmly. “And that makes the white wedding even more meaningful since there is some gossip. I want to make a statement that I have nothing to feel guilty about.”

“Yes,” Becky agreed, “I think you should, and I have just the skirt in mind. You’ll be stunning.”

“What about the reception?” Lydia asked. “Will you want to have a wedding dinner? Do you have a location in mind?”

Kristina shook her head. “My house has small rooms. I don’t think the reception can take place there. It would be awfully crowded, and as for the vicarage…” She blinked a couple of times.

She’s not wrong there. One modest-sized room, and everyone staring at the bed. Allison stifled a giggle. No, the wedding dinner can’t be held there.

“Then have it here,” Lydia suggested. “I can provide some food and the cake. It will be my gift to you.”

“Oh, no. I can’t let you do that. I’ll pay for the food,” Kristina protested.

The two women looked at each other, stubborn Italian against equally stubborn German. Then Lydia laughed. “All right, Kristina. Pay for the food. I’ll gift you with the cake.”

Kristina grinned. “Perfect.”

Allison couldn’t help but smile, genuinely this time, despite her anguish. The joy of my friend’s happiness is more important than my own dashed hopes. She looked around the table. Kristina smiled the same, silly smile, her short nose wrinkled with cheer. Lydia’s round, pink cheeks showed deep dimples as she grinned broadly. Then Allison met her sister’s eyes. For just a moment, deep misery shone like tears in the azure depths. Becky looked as though she might burst into sobs at any moment. Then the sad look disappeared, replaced by the serene smile.

What on earth was that expression? Allison couldn’t imagine, so she forced her attention back to the wedding discussion again.

“Allison?” Kristina addressed her directly. “You will stand up with me, won’t you?”

“Yes, of course,” she replied. “I’m honored. What should I wear?”

“Something to coordinate with the Christmas decorations, I suppose.” Then she chopped the air with her hand in frustration. “You have good taste. Wear what you want.”

Of course, discussions of dresses can’t interest Kristina for long. She’s a musician to the bone, and female fripperies mean nothing to her.

Focusing on the moment, Allison mentally scanned her wardrobe. A vibrant burgundy skirt and pelisse will do the trick nicely. With black boots and my cameo pin. I’m all set for the wedding. Except her heart, which was aching that her friend’s dreams were coming true while hers never would.

***

That evening, Allison sprawled in the chair in Becky’s bedroom. Becky brushed her younger sister’s hair again. Hmm, what would look best on Allison for the wedding? A twist? A knot? A coronet?

As Becky contemplated the styles, Allison chattered on, half-heard. I’m not paying attention, she admitted to herself. As usual, her silly mind had slipped away to thoughts of James Heitschmidt. I can’t help but wonder how my friend is coping with his daughter’s forced marriage. I hope to find time to talk to him soon. I’ve been so busy lately with my shop, and he with the general store, it’s hard to get together, particularly as I don’t want to appear to be mooning over him.

“Becky,” Allison’s hand closed around her sister’s wrist, startling her back to reality.

“What is it, Allie?” she asked.

“I’ve been trying to get your attention for a while. Where were you just now?”

Heat prickled across Becky’s cheeks, and she knew she was blushing. “Nowhere interesting,” she mumbled.

“Ha,” Allison replied, “I think it was somewhere very interesting. C’mon sis, tell me. You know I won’t tell. What makes you go so far away… or should I say who?”

Allison sees too much. “I’m being silly,” Becky replied. “There’s no reason why I should be dreaming about any man. Especially not this one…”

“Ah, so it is a man?”

“Yes,” Becky admitted. “I’m human. Even though it’s hopeless, he’s so special I couldn’t help falling…” She sputtered to a halt.

“Falling in love with him?” Allison guessed.

Becky nodded stiffly.

Allison shook her head. “Why is that bad, sis? You deserve it, too.”

“I don’t,” Becky replied. “He’s a pillar of the community. He deserves… better.”

“Better than being loved by the sweetest, prettiest woman in town?” Allison insisted, turning around as far as the chair would permit and meeting her sister’s eyes directly. “He’s a man, not a god, Becky. So, who is this paragon?”

Becky gulped. “I’d rather not say.”

“Please?” Allison begged, suddenly sounding like a ten-year-old child.

In Becky’s mind, sometimes she still seemed like she was. But that’s silly. She could as easily be married as I could. She could have been a mother by now if only our lives hadn’t veered so far off course. “Promise you won’t tell?”

“I swear.”

“It’s… well… it’s…” she broke off, embarrassed.

“It’s whom?” Allison pressed.

“James,” Becky forced out at last.

Allison blinked. “James Heitschmidt? Kristina’s father?”

Becky nodded.

“Oh wow,” Allison said. And then neither of them said anything else.

Book Details

AUTHOR NAME: Simone Beaudelaire

BOOK TITLE: High Plains Promise (Love On The High Plains Book 2)

GENRE: Romance

SUBGENRE: Western Romance / Steamy Romance

PAGE COUNT: 215

IN THE BLOG: Best Historical Romance Novels