Oklahoma Sweetheart

“I don’t know. But for sure I won’t bother you again,” she told him, walking away, her back straight, her shoulders squared, the road to town before her.

Loris Peterson had thought her life was planned, had been happy in her betrothal to Connor Webster, had thought she was in love with the man. Until Connor’s brother, James, had entered her life.

James, was a right good hand with the ladies, a scamp of the first order, her father had said, when he found her speaking with the man in front of the general store one day. She’d been warned, not only by her father, but by her own common sense. And failed to heed the message.

James had been kind and gentle, yet dashing and sophisticated, at least to her eyes. And she had assumed that she was safe with him. After all, he was Connor’s brother. As if that had made a difference.

Two brothers could not have been more unalike. Connor was steady, reliable and rock-solid. The sort of man a sensible girl would choose for a husband. And Loris considered herself eminently sensible. At least, she had until James had swung her around the dance floor at Eloise Simpson’s wedding. His offer to escort her had been kind, she thought, with Connor gone on business.

James had been gallant, serving her with small cakes and cups of punch, and walking her outside when the grange hall became too warm for comfort, due to the number of exuberant dancers filling the floor.

Outside, he’d been funny, telling her stories that tickled her, probably more so because of the spiked punch he’d coaxed her to drink. He’d halted their progress beneath a tall oak tree, and there in the shadows that surrounded them, he’d kissed her for the first time.

Now, she wished fervently that it had never happened, or that it had been the first and last kiss she’d received from his experienced lips. There was something about a man with experience that appealed to a woman, Loris decided.

James knew how to bend her to his will, knew that his mouth against the nape of her neck would make her shiver with delight. Possessed of blue eyes and dark hair, he was handsome. Gifted with a body that was tall and well-muscled, he was strong, and yet he had a gentle streak that appealed to her as a woman. For surely a man so sweet would never cause her harm.

She laughed aloud as she passed the church, and then stifled the sound, lest some holy presence might strike her dead for her sins. Though that seemed unlikely, for hadn’t the Lord himself forgiven the woman caught in sin?

Right now, she was more interested in the forgiveness of her parents, and that was not a likely occurrence. They would be horrified. Her mother would cry and carry on, her father would be stern and judgmental. And she would be forever left with the burden of guilt she carried.

Through it all would be the knowledge that her life was ruined. Ruined by one moment of temptation, one glimpse of pleasure, one man set on having his way with her. And he had. In the depths of her father’s barn, where the hay lay soft and deep in a storage stall, he’d talked her out of her clothing, whispered sweet words of appeal, and taken her virginity. That he was very good at what he’d done seemed of little consequence now, for guilt overwhelmed her as she thought of her unfaithful behavior. At the time her thoughts had been of the years ahead, when she and James Webster would spend their lives together.

It was not to be. James had been offered a job as manager of a ranch in Missouri and planned to leave town soon. He’d told her of his opportunity, and she’d looked up at him pleadingly. “What about me?” she’d asked.

“Connor loves you,” he’d told her. “He’ll marry you.”

“I doubt it,” she’d said sadly. “I’m going to have your child, James. I’ve cheated on him. I hate myself. How can I expect him to forgive me?”

“Tell him I forced you into it,” James said loftily. “He’ll believe you.”

“And then he’ll tell me to force you to marry me,” she said. “And if my father hears of such a thing, he’ll get out his shotgun and you’ll be wearing a load of buckshot in your fanny.”

“That’s not gonna happen,” James had said. “Connor will marry you, and you’re smart enough to never let your father hear my name in connection with this.”

Loris turned in at the gate and climbed the steps to the front porch of the big house she’d been born in nineteen years ago. Behind the house was a barn and corral, a henhouse and a garden. The property was not large, but prosperous. She clasped the door handle and turned it. The front door was closed but not locked, for the folks in this town seldom set a bolt on their doors.

People in Kent Corners, Oklahoma, could be trusted not to infringe on another’s property. She’d heard that all of her life, and now she laughed as she stepped into the front hall. Most folks could be trusted, but not James Webster, who had done more than infringe on his brother’s property. He’d seduced his brother’s fiancée.

Then he had turned his back on his responsibility and walked away. His departure was scheduled for that very day.

Loris climbed the stairs, holding the smooth banister firmly, her legs not seeming solid beneath her. She thought for a moment of her father’s shotgun, and wondered how it could be used to put her out of her misery. Then dismissed that thought as not worthy of contemplation. She’d never be able to pull the trigger.

If she had to find a place to live, scrabbling for food, making a way for herself, she would. If Connor was willing to pay for her passage out of town, maybe he’d help her move someplace close by, an abandoned house perhaps. There were several of them west of town, where families had renounced their dreams, and moved on instead to a more prosperous place.

She trudged to her room and sat down dejectedly on the side of her bed, unconcerned for once that she might muss the quilt. Her mother’s training went deep and sitting on the bed, or, heaven forbid, lying down on it in the daytime, was strictly against the rules of behavior taught to young ladies who intended to be thought of as women of distinction.

Whether or not Loris held out any hopes of achieving that exalted position now seemed of little concern, for she knew that her position in society would henceforth be that of a fallen woman.

Now came the difficult part, she realized. Talking to her parents was the very last thing she wanted to do, yet was, of necessity, the most important item on her list of things that must be faced.

Suppertime would be the best time, she decided. In the meantime, she’d do well to sort through her clothing and see how much she could carry with her when her father showed her the door.

“You’re really walking away from this?” Connor asked. His younger brother stood in the barn doorway, holding the bridle of his gelding, his saddlebags bulging as they hung over the horse’s withers.

“What would you like me to do?” James asked. “When the folks find out what’s happened, they’ll be after me like flies on a manure pile, and I don’t fancy being tossed on my ear by Father.”

“Why don’t you marry Loris?” Connor asked, his heart aching as he thought of the pearl ring she wore. A ring he had put on her finger himself, just six months ago.

“I’m not planning on marriage. Not for a long time,” James said, his handsome face twisted in anger.

“A little late to be planning a life as a bachelor, isn’t it?” Connor asked, grasping James by his shirt. He’d loved James, been his friend as well as brother. Now pure hatred rose within him as he shook the man who had betrayed him.

“I am a bachelor,” James answered quickly. “Women are a commodity that men have been buying for centuries, but in this case, I got a girl without much effort at all, and it certainly didn’t cost me anything.”

Connor released his grip. “Loris is in the family way. Don’t you feel responsible?” he asked.

James looked at him and grinned, then his face reddened and he took on a pensive look. “Yeah, I’m responsible, I guess. But I feel worse about letting you down than I do about fooling around with Loris.”

“Don’t you like her?” Connor asked.

James grinned again. “Of course, I do. She’s pretty, she’s got a good figure and she’s smart. Who wouldn’t like her?”

“You don’t respect her, though, do you?”

James thought about that for a moment. “Not a whole lot. No, I don’t. Trust me on this, Connor. You’re better off without her. If you decide to marry the girl, I’ll thank you for taking on my child, but I’ll understand if you walk away.”

“I’ve already told her I’m done with her,” Connor said.

“What will she do?” James asked, and for a moment Connor wondered if his brother was having second thoughts. “Can she leave town, stay with someone?”

“That’s what I asked her,” Connor said. “I offered to pay her way if she wanted to leave.”

“Tell you what I’ll do,” James said slowly. “I’ll give you some cash for her. I’ve got a bit saved, and I’m heading for a sure job at a good wage. Tell her I said to take care of herself.” He pulled a roll of bills from his pocket and placed over half of it in Connor’s hand. “It’ll keep her for a little while, anyway. Maybe she can find a place to stay. Or a job somewhere.”

Connor laughed harshly. “Who’d hire a woman who’s having a child without benefit of a husband?”

“Hell, I don’t know,” James said impatiently.

Connor turned away, holding the blood money his brother had given him, and headed for the house. His mother was crying in the kitchen over James departure. At least she had been half an hour ago, when her favorite son had walked out the door, saddlebags in his hands. He’d see if she was calmer now, ready to talk. And he’d think seriously about filling her in on the situation in which he found himself.

“I’ll kill Connor Webster for getting you in this fix,” Alger Peterson said loudly, his voice ringing throughout the dining room and probably resounding from the parlor ceiling.

“That won’t do a bit of good, Daddy,” she said calmly. “Connor isn’t the father.”

Alger looked stunned, his mouth falling open at her announcement. It was almost as much a surprise as her first declaration, a whispered notice that he would be a grandfather before the year was out.

Not that her father was averse to the title of grandfather, but he’d expected it to be part of her marriage. He’d given his blessing to her betrothal, and welcomed Connor into the Peterson household as an honored guest.