Tempest in Eden

"And it would be for life, Shay."

"Yes. You'd be stuck with me that long. I'm impetuous, impulsive, irreverent, flamboyant. I have only one dress I can wear to church services, and I wore that today."

He laughed then, rocking her back and forth. "When a woman starts worrying about what she's going to wear, she's as good as convinced."

He stepped back and looked down at her. "Shay, I was happy in my work, but there was no joy in my life. Do you understand? I was becoming staid, placid. You were like an earthquake that shook everything up, turned everything upside down. You gave me an energy I didn't even know I was lacking. I had even come to resent my responsibilities, my church, because they dominated my life so completely. I was busy, but there was no one to share the quiet hours with. You won't be a detriment to my work. You'll add a new dimension to it. You'll balance my world. You're already in my heart, Shay, but I need you in my life, in my bed."

He kissed her gently. She felt powerless to fight him. She was even more ineffectual against the dictates of her own heart. Married life with him would be thoroughly unexpected, but it would be life. Without him, she'd merely go on existing in the wasteland her world had become.

But for their clothes, they would have been making love only moments ago. As her body had arched up to receive the thrusts of his, she had known that she was seeking more than sexual fulfillment. Her heart needed the balm of his love. With him she felt whole, not someone in costume playing out an assigned part.

Being married to him wouldn't be without risks, disappointments, and heartaches. But what marriage was? Perhaps she and Ian had more working against them than for them, but they were both forceful people who didn't back down from challenges.

And they loved each other. Surely that love was worth a few sacrifices.

Her lips opened under his sweet insistence. Once again his hands lifted her sweater and smothered her breasts, which were full and throbbing with love. He lifted his mouth from hers only long enough to say, "Will you marry me, Shay? I'll give you thirty seconds to make up your mind."

Actually he allotted her three days. It was a game. They both knew what her answer would be.

"Shay, if you don't marry me," he said into the telephone late at night on the third day, "you're going to cause me to commit a grievous sin that could curse me to perdition. Do you want that on your conscience?"

"Put that way, you leave me with no choice. Yes, I'll marry you."

He shouted and whooped into the phone for a full five minutes before he settled down to make wedding plans. He didn't want to waste any time, but conceded her two weeks.

The next day she told Vandiveer she was resigning. He took the news as she knew he would—badly.

"Why? Someone else offer to pay you a higher commission? Did you get a permanent modeling job?" His pointed face was pinched with jealous anger.

"No," she said calmly, "I'm taking on the permanent job of being a wife."

"A … a wife!To whom?"

"To the man I told you about a few weeks ago."

"The minister!" Shay cringed at his hoot of laughter. "Oh, that's rich. That's the best laugh I've had in months." He eyed her snidely, taking in her mid-calf-length skirt, maroon suede boots, long sweater, and cord belt that was slung low on her hips. "Forgive me for pointing out, my dear, that you're not quite the minister's wife type."

His comment didn't faze her. Grinning broadly, she placed her hands on her hips, tossed back her mane of wheat-colored hair, and said, "The hell I'm not."

"I can't tell you how happy John and I are," Celia cooed as she helped Shay into her gold satin slip with lace cups that molded her breasts.

Their wedding day had dawned crisp, sunny, and cold. John and Ian's bishop had retired to the living room after the prewedding lunch Mrs. Higgins had provided. Ian had gone into his bedroom to change for the ceremony. Shay had been given one of the spare bedrooms of the parsonage in which to dress.

Shay stilled her mother's busy hands and asked her earnestly, "Are you really happy about it, Mom? Do you think we're doing the right thing? Your endorsement, and John's, mean so much to both of us."

"Of course, we're thrilled about this marriage, Shay dear," Celia exclaimed. "I'll admit to being shocked by your behavior at the cabin that weekend last summer, but then, when hasn't your behavior shocked me? John and I had no idea you and Ian had even seen each other again until you called and told us you were going to spend the weekend here in Brookside. The next thing we knew you were getting married."

"We're so different." Shay voiced aloud the worries she had pondered silently for the last two weeks. Was she making a mistake? Would she be hurt again as she had been by Anson? Worse still, would she hurt Ian in some way?

"I wouldn't let that bother me," Celia said absently, whisking an imaginary piece of lint from Shay's wedding dress. "Those little personality differences add spice to a marriage. Your dress is really lovely, dear."

Shay could argue that their differences weren't exclusively those of personality, nor were they "little." But her mother had diverted her attention to the dress she had selected. It was made of champagne-colored silk and had a slightly blouson bodice. The long sleeves sloped down from the boat neckline and were narrow to her wrists. The skirt was slender with a tulip hem just below her knees. Her mother had loaned her a string of pearls and matching earrings to wear with it. Shay had already pulled her hair into a softly curled topknot.

She was sitting at an old-fashioned vanity table, applying the last touches to her makeup when her mother said, "John has been worried about Ian for years. A man in his position shouldn't be without a wife. He carries a tremendous responsibility, and it isn't healthy for a young man like him not to have an outlet for … well, you know," her mother finished, flustered and blushing.

Shay grinned wickedly. "Yes, I know."

"He's been alone for far too long. John said he didn't think Ian would ever get over losing Mary after she was so tragically killed." A sudden pain shafted through Shay, and she set aside her eye cr