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Clara's Promise Love builds a house and
Luke and Clara live there. |
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Golden Promise
At fifteen, orphaned Clara Winslow married
Wade Cameron, a man twenty years her senior--
and settled into a life helping to run his farm and care
for his two young sons. But now, at twenty-one, Clara
feels unfulfilled, and harbors her own secret
dreams...dreams that become a reality when she
graduates from teaching school.
Fleeing her unhappy marriage, Clara journeys from
Virginia to Montana to carve out a new life...
on her own terms. There, she meets Luke Evans.
A widower struggling to escape his tragic memories,
Luke is passionately drawn to the tender-hearted
woman who has made a special place
for herself in his heart.
It will take courage, desire, and one unusual
matchmaker to help Luke and Clara let go of the
past and find the strength to risk everything on a
rapturous promise of love...
Clara's Promise Excerpt
"I don't know how to act," she said.
"That's an understatement." Luke snorted a laugh.
"I mean...this agreement to pretend. What does it mean? I don't know how to show Aunt Emily I have an attraction for you."
Luke frowned as he tethered his horse to a nearby branch.
Clara felt as if she'd said the wrong thing. Did he want her to be attracted to him? He said he didn't want a wife, but that didn't mean he was telling the truth. Men frequently say one thing when they mean something else, especially when the matter involves the heart. Janey Willard's voice spoke in her head. Clara remembered her saying that during one of her many morning discussions on life and its lessons.
"Just do what comes naturally, Clara." Luke had turned back to her.
The mist rose over the grassy hill like ghosts fleeing the coming daylight. Clara stared at him. She didn't know what came naturally. She knew she had feelings for Luke. Feelings that were different from any she'd experienced in her short lifetime, but to court a young man, she had no clue what to do. And there was no Janey Willard around to azeotrope on, listen to her comments on how to snare a man.
"Clara, you must have had a boyfriend back East," Luke continued. "Someone who took you to parties and dances. Just do what you did with him."
Clara couldn't do that. She'd never had a boyfriend. She had gone to two dances at school, but she had gone with her best friend, Annie Pearl. During her time at finishing school she hadn't thought much of boys, except when they practiced dancing. After her parents died, she'd gone to Wade.
"I understand," she said, her voice unconvincing to her own ears. This had been a mistake. She should have talked to someone else, but who? Annie Pearl was back in Washington and Clara couldn't very well go to Aunt Emily for advice. "I suppose if we spend some time together...when...when Aunt Emily is aware of it." She rushed into breathless speech.
A lazy smile stole across Luke's face. He was laughing at her.
"Yes, we could do that. Where do you suppose we could spend this time?"
Clara swallowed. Her ears had grown warm and she felt as if Luke was baiting her.
"There's coaching the baseball game." She grasped at the first thought that came to her.
"And I could come to the children's singing rehearsals and walk you home."
"Yes," Clara smiled, grateful for the help in her one sided conversation.
"And I could kiss you goodnight at the door."
An expression of horror ran through her. Then she thought she'd misunderstood. "On my forehead, like a brother or father."
"No, Clara." Luke shook his head, a glint of mischief in his eyes. "Full on the mouth, in plain view of Emily Hale. Nothing would please her more."
"You're making fun of me." Clara's back stiffened as it always did when she felt the joke was at her expense.
Luke didn't immediately reply. The sun tinged the horizon, outlining the bluffs in shadow as the sky behind them looked like cracked gold. Luke's eyes had that kind of light in them, dark and dangerous, concealed and open. Clara's throat went dry. She wanted to say something but no words would come. She wanted to move away, out of the influence of those mesmerizing eyes, but her feet refused to move.
"Clara," Luke whispered. He stepped forward, his hands going to her waist. Clara looked up, her lips parted in surprise. Sound died before it made it pass the lump in her throat. She attempted to move, but Luke's fingers grew harder.
"Luke, no," she rasped through parched lips. She knew the revulsion would come. The horrible trapped feeling that had overcome her when Ian grabbed her in the barn.
Luke hesitated. His face closed the tiny distance until she felt his warm breath on her dry lips. Unconsciously her tongue came out and wet them. Luke gasped. Clara wanted to sway closer to him. All thoughts of revulsion left her. Luke crowded the thoughts aside, filling every space in her mind with his presence.
"Luke, there's no need for this." She could barely speak. "Aunt Emily isn't here and --"
Luke cut conversation with his mouth, covering Clara's with his. His lips were soft and warm. They touched hers lightly, but sensation prickled through to her toes. Clara felt awkward and unsure. She didn't know where to put her hands or even if she should stop Luke. She didn't want to stop him. She'd never felt like this before, like they were the only people on earth, like pressing herself into him was the right thing to do.
Then Luke deepened the kiss, drawing her into him, wrapping her against him as if she were a soft doll. Clara's arms grabbed at the huge muscles of his arms, then traveled over his shoulders to connect behind his neck. Opening her mouth at Luke's persistence she joined him in the sensual tongue dance. Luke's arms tightened then spread out over her back and hips with the same deliberate slowness with which his mouth moved over hers. Clara wore only her riding pants. None of her petticoats were present to act as a barrier between their aroused bodies. With only her split-skirt between them, she could feel the outline of Luke's hard body and he could surely feel how much she quivered under his touch.
Clara didn't find the sensation unpleasant. In fact, she actually liked what Luke was doing. She wanted it to go on, but Luke abruptly pushed her away and took a step back. She stumbled at the unanticipated need to support herself alone.
"Why do women do that?" Luke asked, his voice breathy and hoarse.
"Do...," Clara cleared her throat. "Do what?"
"Go all limp and boneless." Clara heard his anger yet she couldn't deny it. In Luke's arms she'd been as pliable as soft gold. She felt weightless, floating about in the clouds, without the need for solid foundation. Luke had been her anchor, but now she felt ashamed as if she had done something completely wrong.
"I--" She stopped herself. Her immediate thought had been to apologize. Strength of will came to her and she refused. "I will not be sorry," she said, only realizing the way her words could be interpreted after it was too late to stop them.
Luke glared at her. "I know now that what comes naturally will not be a problem for you, Clara." Luke grabbed the tether straps and pulled himself into the saddle. Turning the massive horse toward her, he looked down. "Don't ever come to my room again or you might get more than you bargained for."
With that he road off. Clara stared after him stunned. She hadn't invited his kiss. She thought she'd be kicking and scratching to get him to stop. How did she know her body would melt the moment he touched it. And why did he feel it necessary to kiss her? She supposed he wanted to teach her a lesson.
But which one of them had learned it?
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