His Virgin Wife: The Wedding in White / Caught in the Crossfire / The Virgin's Secret Marriage. Diana Palmer
how it had been that rainy night that Carl had died, when one thin strap on her nightgown had slid down her arm and…
Oh, no, she told herself firmly. Oh, no, none of that! She wasn’t going to start daydreaming about Mack again. She’d gone down that road once already, and the consequences had been horrible.
She went back into the house to tell Viv the bad news.
“But that’s wonderful!” her friend exclaimed, all smiles instead of tears. “You’ll come, won’t you?”
“He’s trying to manipulate me,” Natalie said irritably. “I won’t let him do that!”
“But if you don’t come, Whit can’t come,” came the miserable reply. “You just have to, Nat, if I’m your friend at all.”
Natalie grumbled, but in the end, she gave in.
Vivian hugged her tight. “I knew you would,” she said happily. “I can hardly wait until Saturday! You’ll like him, and so will Mack. He’s such a sweet guy.”
Natalie hesitated, but if she didn’t tell her friend, Mack certainly would, and less kindly. “Viv, did you know that he got a girl in trouble?”
“Well, yes,” she said. “But it was her fault,” she pointed out. “She chased him and then when they did it, she wouldn’t let him use anything. He told me.”
Natalie blushed for the second time that day, terribly uncomfortable around people who seemed content to speak about the most embarrassing things openly.
“Sorry,” Viv said with a kind smile. “You’re very unworldly, you know.”
“That’s just what your brother said,” Natalie muttered.
Vivian studied her curiously for a long time. “He may not like the idea of Whit, but he likes the idea of your friend Dave Markham even less,” she confided.
“He’s one to criticize my social life, while he runs around with the likes of Glenna the Bimbo. Stop laughing, it isn’t funny!”
Vivian cleared her throat. “Sorry. But she’s really very nice,” she told her friend. “She just likes men.”
“One after the other,” Natalie agreed, “and even simultaneously, from what people say. Your brother is going to catch some god-awful disease and it will be his
own fault. Why are you still laughing?”
“You’re jealous,” Vivian said.
“That’ll be the day!” Natalie said harshly. “I’m going home.”
“He’s only gone out with her twice,” her best friend continued, unabashed, “and he didn’t even have lipstick on his shirt when he came home. They just went to a movie together.”
“I’m sure your brother didn’t get to his present age without learning how to get around lipstick stains,” she said belligerently.
“The ladies seem to like him,” Vivian said.
“Until he speaks and ruins his image,” Natalie added. “His idea of diplomacy is a gun and a smile. If Glenna likes him, it’s only because she’s taped his mouth shut!”
Vivian laughed helplessly. “I guess that could be true,” she confessed. “But he is a refreshing change from all the politically correct people who are afraid to open their mouths at all.”
“I suppose so.”
Vivian stood up. “Natalie?”
“What?”
She stared at her friend quietly. “You’re still in love with him, aren’t you?”
Natalie turned quickly toward the door. She wasn’t going to answer. “I really have got to go. I have exams next week, and I’d better hit the books hard. It wouldn’t do to flub my exams and not graduate,” she added.
Vivian wanted to tell Natalie that she had a pretty good idea of what had happened between her and Mack so long ago, but it would embarrass Natalie if she came right out with it. Her friend was so repressed.
“I don’t know what happened,” she lied, “but you have to remember, you were just seventeen. He was twenty-three.”
Natalie turned, her face pale and shocked. “He…told you?”
“He didn’t tell me anything,” Vivian said softly and honestly. She hadn’t needed to be told. Her brother and her best friend had given it away themselves without a word. She smiled. “But you walked around in a constant state of misery and wouldn’t come near the place when he was home. He wouldn’t be at home if he knew you were coming over to see me. I figured he’d probably said something really harsh and you’d had a terrible fight.”
Natalie’s face closed up. “The past is best left buried,” she said curtly.
“I’m not prying. I’m just making an observation.”
“I’ll come Saturday night, but only because he won’t let Whit come if I don’t,” Natalie said a little stiffly.
“I’ll never mention it again,” Vivian said, and Natalie knew what she meant. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to dredge up something painful.”
“No harm done. I’d long since forgotten.” The lie slid glibly from her tongue, and she smiled one last time at Vivian before she went out the door. Pretending it didn’t matter was the hardest thing she’d done in years.
Chapter 2
Natalie sat in the elementary school classroom the next morning, bleary-eyed from having been up so late the night before studying for her final exams. It was imperative that she read over her notes in all her classes every night so that when the exam schedule was posted, she’d be ready. She’d barely had time to think, and she didn’t want to. She never wanted to remember again how it had been that night when she was seventeen and Mack had held her in the darkness.
Mrs. Ringgold’s gentle voice, reminding her that it was time to start handwriting practice, brought her to the present. She apologized and organized the class into small groups around the two large class tables. Mrs. Ringgold took one and she the other as they guided the children through the cursive alphabet, taking time to study each effort and offer praise and corrections where they were necessary.
It was during lunch that she met Dave Markham in the line.
“You look smug today,” he said with a smile. He was tall and slender, but not in the same way that Mack was. Dave was an intellectual who liked classical music and literature. He couldn’t ride or rope and he knew next to nothing about agriculture. But he was sweet, and at least he was someone Natalie could date without having to worry about fighting him off after dessert on dates.
“Mrs. Ringgold says I’m doing great in the classroom,” she advised. “Professor Bailey comes to observe me tomorrow. Then, next week, finals.” She made a mock shiver.
“You’ll pass,” he said, smiling. “Everybody’s terrified of exams, but if you read your notes once a day, you won’t have any trouble with them.”
“I wish I could read my notes,” she confided in a low tone. “If Professor Bailey could flunk me on handwriting, I’d already be out on my ear.”
“And you’re teaching children how to write?” Dave asked in mock horror.
She glared at him. “Listen, I can tell people how to do things I can’t do. It’s all a matter of using authority in your voice.”
“You do that pretty well,” he had to admit. “I hear you had a good tutor.”
“What?”
“McKinzey Killain,” he offered.
“Mack,” she corrected.