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"I want to marry you, Becky." His voice was firm, decisive. Now that he had made up his mind, he would brook no refusal.
She had no intention of refusing.
She gasped in delight and he felt her shimmer in his arms. "But, you need to know what it's going to be like. If you're mine, I won't share you at all. I'm not going to tolerate the likes of Kyle Bolton, or anybody else coming near you. I won't let them look at you, let alone talk to you. And you better understand that when you say I do, there's no going back. Once I have you, I'll never let you go." He paused, then continued, as if he was confessing something horrendous. "I'm afraid I'm jealous, sweetheart. I don't know. I've never been jealous before, but I saw red today when that kid was standing too close to you.
Becky listened to his speech of warning and felt no fear, only an intense flare of excitement at his possessiveness. If he thought the idea of him having exclusive rights over her was going to frighten her, he was dead wrong. Another thrill went through her. Yes, yes, yes! She wanted to jump up and down and scream with joy. She couldn't wait to tell Aunt Beth and Miranda!
"And one more thing, sweetheart. It has to be soon." Now that he had made up his mind, he wanted the deed done before anything could come between them. "Saturday. That'll give you three days to get ready. I'll tell the preacher. You get a dress."
Chapter Three
Wednesday morning dawned bright and sunny. A late autumn chill filled the air. Becky bounded out of bed, excitement gripping her. She had a million things to do today. The first of which, was to get to the dry goods store and visit Miranda.
Aunt Beth had been so happy for her last night. "I told you, darlin'. I knew that man wouldn't give up the home cooked meals, and all. Between you and me, sweetie, the whole town has been waiting for this to happen. It's a known fact the sheriff is spoiled rotten, and you're the little girl to blame for it. I bet his heart nearly stopped beating when you told him the Bolton boy was sweet on you. To offer you six marriage proposals in three months! That boy is surely not going to like losing out to the sheriff. No sir, you mark my words, he's going to be one unhappy young fellow."
An hour later, the bell tingled when Becky opened the door and walked into the dry goods store. Mrs. Foster and Mrs. Tyler were inside shopping and browsing through patterns and buttons. Becky smiled and nodded at them on her way through to the back.
"Miranda. Miranda, are you back there?" Her voice was happy and excited as Miranda came through the curtain at the back of the store.
"Y
es, Becky. My goodness, what's all the commotion about?" She hurried around the counter.
Becky looked around and lowered her voice as much as she could with all the euphoria bubbling through her. "He did it! He finally did it! He asked me to marry him!"
Miranda squealed and threw her arms around her friend as they both started jumping up and down. Becky didn't even have to tell Miranda who he was. They had been best friends for a long time. The ladies in the front of the store watched them and smiled.
"Oh Becky! You're so lucky! The sheriff is to die for! I tell you, if I wasn't a married woman!"
The bell chimed again and the girls looked up to see the customers leaving. "Oh, poo. You know you love Johnny. You've been so happy, I've been positively green with envy, you know." The girls shared a look of happiness, and then started jumping up and down again.
Miranda leaned back from her friend to ask, "When's the big day? What month would be good for a wedding?" There was a speculative look in her eye.
Becky grinned. "It's not going to be a long engagement. We're getting married Saturday."
Miranda shrieked. "Saturday!"
A satisfied smile crossed Becky's face. "Saturday. I guess Jake doesn't want to wait, and I'm not about to try to get him to. He could drag me in front of the preacher today and I would go with my apron on!"
****
Later that day, Becky stood next to Jake's kitchen table and quietly made the first cut in the cloth her aunt had given her. The bright blue gingham would be perfect against the white windowsills. Jake's mother's china was blue and white and visions of the cheerful splash of added color the curtains would make in the room brought a smile to her face. The moment she and her aunt had come across the large remnant of fabric, Becky knew it was the exact same color.
A pot of soup bubbled on the stove behind her, scenting the house and adding to the delight of the domestic project before her.
Becky loved sewing, and making the window coverings was a pleasure, not a chore.
She looked up when the door clicked shut. Jake leaned against the door, watching her. Before she even had time to form a smile for him, she saw the look on his face. It was a pained expression and was confusing to her. She had never seen it before on him.
"What are you doing here?" His features were etched with strain as he asked the question.
"I-I'm m-making your supper." Her mouth shook and she tried to smile.
"You can't be here 'til Saturday. We're engaged now, sweetheart. Remember?" His voice was low and monotone.
She put the scissors down and smoothed her suddenly damp hands down her skirt. Her heart pounded in agitation. Maybe he was right. Maybe she shouldn't be here now that they were getting married. But she didn't think that was what was bothering him. "What's wrong, J-Jake?"
He ignored the question. "What's that you're working on, sweetheart?"
