Because there was no honeymoon to rush off to, the family lingered at Justin’s. Only when they could postpone their leaving no longer did Cord approach her.
“If we don’t get out of here soon,” he said, leaning down to whisper the words in her ear as if they were a loving secret, “they’re going to start to wonder if we’re dreading being alone together.”
In truth, this was the moment she had been dreading. Walking out of here as Cord’s wife, surrounded by good wishes and taunted by broad innuendoes about the night ahead, she knew she was going to feel like the world’s worst fraud.
“Buck up, darlin’. Let’s give ’em the show they’re expecting,” he said with a devilish glint in his eyes.
“What—?”
The word was barely out of her mouth, when he tucked his arm behind her knees and scooped her up against his chest. The short skirt of the white wool suit she’d worn for the occasion rode up her thighs. With an exaggerated survey of her bared legs and a wink at her family, he said, “If nobody objects, I’m taking my bride home now.”
“It’s about time,” Grandpa Harlan taunted.
“Cord, put me down this instant,” Sharon Lynn demanded, only to be tucked more firmly against the broad expanse of his chest.
“And spoil their fun? I don’t think so.”
He left the house at a pace that left no doubt that he was an anxious new husband. When they turned the corner out of view, Sharon Lynn once again pleaded with him to put her down. “There’s no need now. They can’t see us.”
“Doesn’t matter. I kind of like having you cuddled up here next to me.” He gave her a wry look. “Could be the last time I get this close to you tonight.”
Sharon Lynn sighed. The remark had been made in jest, but there was a longing behind it that touched her soul. “I’m sorry,” she said, the words a soft whisper against his neck.
“Don’t be sorry, darlin’. This is what I bargained for.”
“It’s still not fair. This is your wedding night.”
“It’s our wedding night,” he stated. “You said those vows, same as me.”
“You know what I mean.”
“Don’t worry about it,” he insisted. “Nothing will change this being our wedding night. The rest will come when it comes.”
“You aren’t disappointed?”
He paused on the steps to the front door and his gaze locked with hers. “Disappointed? Yes. I won’t lie to you about that. I want you so badly I ache with it,” he told her with brutal honesty. “But I respect the deal that we made. I won’t push for more.”
For just an instant she wished things were different, but then he was crossing the threshold and lowering her to her feet so he could pay Patsy Driscoll, who had baby-sat Ashley all afternoon.
When the teenager was gone, Sharon Lynn took Cord’s hand in hers. “Let’s go in and see the baby. Everytime I’m away from her, I’m scared to death she’ll be gone when I get back.”
Cord gave her a look of complete understanding and walked with her to the bedroom. There, in the gathering dusk, they stood over the baby’s crib and stared down at her. She was sleeping peacefully on her tummy, her little bottom poked into the air. She looked so precious, so innocent to have been caught up in such a tempest.
Gazing at her, tears ran down Sharon Lynn’s cheeks. She was thinking not just of Ashley then, but of Kyle, and of another tragic wedding night. When Cord saw the tears, he gathered her close.
“It’s going to be okay,” he promised. “All of it, darlin’. It’s all going to be okay.”
There, with his arms around her, his heart beating sure and true, she could almost believe it.
The next morning they were served with court papers indicating that Hazel Murdock had formally filed for legal custody of her granddaughter.
Chapter Seventeen
On the day set for the custody hearing—April 1, of all days—Sharon Lynn felt as if her world were being torn apart. She couldn’t even look at the baby without tearing up. She couldn’t touch a bite of the breakfast Cord had insisted on making for her, hadn’t been able to eat much since the papers had been delivered the day after their wedding two weeks earlier.
Those two weeks had been consumed with preparations for the court date. Janet had taken on the case eagerly and no one was more fierce in a courtroom battle. Sharon Lynn should have found comfort in that,