Another Dawn

by Sandra Brown

Genres: Historical Romance

Synopsis

Betrayal had ruined Banner Coleman's wedding day and on her wedding night she was a jilted bride. Now old seeds of greed and desire are harvesting a scandal - and Banner's affair with an old family friend could shatter a friendship and a family.

Release date: December 1, 2015

Publisher: Grand Central Publishing

Print pages: 464

Sample

It was Banner Coleman’s wedding day.

She felt every bit a bride as she stood at the back of the church, out of sight behind a flower-bedecked screen, and gazed at the people who had given up a Saturday afternoon to come see her marry Grady Sheldon.

Just about everybody in Larsen had been invited. And it seemed, judging by the crowd that was rapidly filling the pews of the church, that all those who had received an invitation had dressed up in their Sunday finery and were in attendance.

Banner shifted her feet slightly, liking the rustling sound the silk gown made against her legs. The skirt was fashionably narrow and draped over matching satin pumps. The excess fabric was gathered into a soft bustle in the back, which cascaded into a short train. The tulle yoke, which opened high under her chin like the trumpet of a lily, was beaded with tiny pearls. It was sheer to where it met the underlying silk at the gentle slope of her breasts. It was a provocative design, especially since it so snugly fit Banner’s shapely figure, but it was sweetly virginal too. The lace veil that modestly covered her dark hair and her face had been ordered by Larsen’s finest seamstress all the way from New York.

Normally Banner liked vibrant colors, but the ivory wedding gown was a perfect contrast for her midnight black hair. Her complexion was the color of ripe apricots, not buttermilk pale, as was the vogue, because she preferred to stay out in the sun without what proper ladies considered the necessary protection of a parasol.

From her mother she had inherited a tendency to freckle across the bridge of her nose. These blemishes were lamented by the ladies in the sewing circles. “Such a pretty little thing, if only she would be more careful of our sun.” Banner had come to terms with her face long ago. It wasn’t classically pretty, but she rather liked its unconventionality. She couldn’t be worried about anything as trivial as a few freckles. Besides, Mama had them. And Mama was beautiful.

From both parents she had gotten her eyes. Papa’s were green. Mama’s were the color of whiskey. Hers were somewhere in between—gold, shot through with green. “Cat eyes” some would say. But that wasn’t quite accurate, for there was no gray in them, only that deep topaz gold swirling through the green.

The crowd was growing expectant and restless. The organist began to play. The pump organ wheezed only slightly. Happiness bubbled inside Banner and tinted her cheeks a peachy hue. She knew she looked lovely. She knew she was loved. She felt like a bride.

Every pew in the church was filled. From the center aisle ushers politely requested that people scoot close together to accommodate the crowd. Thankfully there was a southern breeze coming through the tall stately windows, six on each side of the church, and it gently fanned the wedding guests on this warm spring afternoon. The gentlemen squirmed and tugged on their uncomfortably tight collars. The ladies, their organdy ruffles fluttering, waved lacy fans and dainty handkerchiefs.

The scent of roses, cut fresh that very morning, filled the air. Dewdrops still clung to the velvety petals. Impartial to any one color, Banner had chosen to use every color of bloom available from ruby red to snowy white. Her three bridesmaids, standing in a small huddle only a few feet in front of her, were dressed in pastel gowns with wide sashes. They looked as fragile as the flowers decorating the church.

It was about the most perfect wedding Banner Coleman could imagine.

“Are you ready, Princess?”

She turned her head and looked through her veil at her father. She hadn’t heard him moving to take his place beside her. “Papa, you look so handsome!”

Ross Coleman flashed her a smile that had stilled the hearts of scores of women. Maturity only heightened his attractiveness. There were now silver strands at his temples and in his wide, lavish mustache. At fifty-two, he was as tall and broad-shouldered as ever. Hard work had kept him trim and lean. Dressed in a dark suit and white shirt with a high collar, he was as handsome as a bride could wish her father to be.

“Thank you,” he said, bowing slightly.

“It’s no wonder Mama married you. Did you look this handsome on your wedding day?”

His eyes flickered away from her for a moment. “Best as I recollect, I didn’t.” It had rained that day. He recalled a soggy group of migrants gathered outside his wagon, a frightened Lydia looking like she was going to bolt at any moment, and himself resentful and angry. He had been roped into marrying her and he’d been furious. Little had he known that it would prove to be the best thing he’d ever done in his life. He had begun to change his mind about her when the preacher said, “You may now kiss your bride,” and he had kissed her for the first time.

“You got married on the wagon train.”

“Yes.”

“I’ll bet Mama didn’t mind if you weren’t so dressed up.”

“I guess she didn’t,” he said with soft gruffness.

His eyes scanned the front of the church until they lighted on the woman who had been escorted to the front row just a few minutes before.

“She looks beautiful today,” Banner said, following the direction of his gaze. Lydia was dressed in a beaded gown of honey-colored silk. Sunlight slanting through one of the windows caught the reddish glints in her hair.

“Yes, she does.”

Banner nudged him teasingly with her elbow. “You always think she looks beautiful.”

Ross’s eyes came back to his daughter. “I always think you do too.” He studied her carefully, taking in the gown and veil that made her somehow untouchable. She would soon belong to someone else. He would no longer be the most important man in her life.

It brought an ache to his throat to acknowledge that their relationship would forever change after today. He wanted her to be a little girl still, his princess. “You’re a beautiful bride, Banner. Your mother and I love you. We don’t give you up lightly, even to a fine young man like Grady.”

“I know, Papa.” Tears clouded her eyes. Coming up on her toes, she lifted the veil and kissed his hard cheek. “I love you too. You know how much I must love Grady if I’d leave you and Mama to marry him.”

Her eyes sought the front of the church just as the door behind the choir loft opened. Their minister, Grady, and his three groomsmen solemnly filed out and took their places beneath the arch of garlands and flowers.

Her tears dried instantly and Banner’s mouth widened in a smile of sheer gladness. Grady looked very handsome in his dark suit. His chestnut hair had been brushed until it gleamed. He stood straight and tall, if a bit rigid.

He had stood much like that the first time Banner ever saw him. It was at his father’s funeral. She hadn’t known the Sheldons. Grady’s mother had died before they moved to Larsen and started their lumber business. Mr. Sheldon’s death meant no more to Banner than an inconvenience when her parents had told her she had to accompany them to the funeral. That meant spending a day in a dress rather than the pants she wore around the ranch, and going to church rather than watching the cowboys break a frisky mare. She had been fourteen. Clearly she remembered being impressed by Grady, then twenty, who had stood so stoically at the grave site. He was all alone in the world now. To Banner, who was surrounded by people who loved her, such a thing was unthinkable. The worst that could happen to a person was to be alone and without love. In retrospect she thought she must have started loving Grady then for his courage.

Every chance she got, she accompanied Ross to the timber mill. It wasn’t until about a year ago that Grady seemed to notice her. He did a double take the day she went into the lumberyard with Lee and Micah. At first mistaking her for a boy, since she was dressed like one, his mouth had fallen open in shock when she whisked her hat off and a mass of black hair had tumbled down around her shoulders and over breasts that gave shape to the otherwise shapeless cotton shirt.

Soon Grady was calling on her for Sunday afternoon rides in his buggy, asking her to dance at parties, and sitting beside her at church socials. He was one of many young men who vied for her attention, but it became distressingly clear to her other would-be suitors that he was the one she preferred.

The day he formally asked Ross if he could court her, she followed him from the house, riding Dusty down the lane as the mare had never been ridden before.

“Grady!” she cried, jumping from her saddle and shamelessly running toward him when he drew his buggy to a halt. As he climbed down, she launched herself into his arms, her eyes bright and her cheeks rosy with color. “What did he say?”

“He said yes!”

“Oh, Grady, Grady.” She hugged him tightly. Then, realizing she wasn’t being very ladylike, not to mention coy, she put space between them and glanced up at him through thick, sooty lashes. “I guess since we’re officially courting now, you can kiss me if you like.”

“I… is it all right? You’re sure?”

Her black curls bounced as she eagerly nodded her head. In fact she thought she would die if he didn’t kiss her. Everything inside her yearned for the feel of his lips against hers.

He lowered his head and kissed her chastely on the cheek.

“Is that all?”

He pulled back and read the astonished disappointment on her face. When she made no movement to separate herself demurely from him, which was what he had expected, he pressed his lips over hers.

It was nice, but still somewhat of a disappointment. This wasn’t the kind of kiss she had heard Lee and Micah discussing in fervent whispers when they didn’t know she was around. The kisses they wistfully described in minute detail were considerably more intimate. Tongues were mentioned. Mama and Papa didn’t kiss with tightly closed lips, their bodies not even touching.

Banner, acting out of curiosity and impulse, wound her arms around Grady’s neck and arched her body against his. He made a startled sound in his throat before his arms went around her possessively. But he still didn’t open his mouth.

Breathlessly, he pushed her away from him several reckless seconds later. “Lordy, Banner. What are you trying to do to me?”

She blushed hotly. In fact, parts of her body she had barely taken notice of before felt hot and feverish. She wished they could be married that very afternoon, she wished that slow fire would go on burning inside her until… well, until that. “I’m sorry, Grady. That wasn’t very ladylike, I know. It’s just that I love you so much.”

“I love you too.” He had kissed her chastely once more before getting back into his buggy and saying goodbye.

Though she was mercilessly teased by Lee and Micah, she began to spend less time outdoors around the corrals with the hands and more time with Lydia and Ma in the house. Ma Langston was teaching her to embroider. She worked with painful concentration on pillowcases and cup towels that she carefully ironed, folded, and placed in her hope chest.

Housekeeping had always been a chore she dreaded and avoided whenever possible. But she began helping Lydia, even offering suggestions about rearranging furniture and replacing curtains in the parlor.

The time she spent with Grady was enchanted and romantic. She was blissfully in love. When Grady asked Ross’s permission to have her hand in marriage, she had swirled in a cloud of happiness that still held her captive.

She looked at Grady now with the love that had brought her to the marriage altar. Her heart skittered at the thought of the night to come. With each day, it was becoming harder to suppress the longing their kisses inspired. Just a few nights ago when she had walked him to his buggy parked beneath the pecan tree in the front yard, the control Grady imposed on himself slipped.

With their arms locked around each other, they had swayed together. Her cheek rested on his heart, which she could hear beating as rapidly as hers. “Only five more nights and we don’t have to say good night and separate. We can say good night in our own bed.”

He groaned. “Banner, honey, don’t talk like that.”

“Why?” she asked, raising her head to look at him.

He brushed an errant strand of hair from her cheek. “Because it just makes me want you more.”

“Do you, Grady?” There was no sense in pretending that she didn’t know what he wanted. She hadn’t grown up on a stud ranch without gaining a working knowledge of mating. Besides, such pretense was contrary to Banner’s nature. It would never have occurred to her to feign ignorance.

“Yes,” he sighed. “I want you.” His mouth came down hard on hers. Her lips parted. He hesitated only a moment before he touched her open lips with his tongue.

“Oh, Grady.”

“I’m sorry, I—”

“No. Don’t stop. Kiss me like that some more.”

He introduced her to a new way of kissing, one that made her breathless and giddy and warm. But rather than easing the aching in her body, it seemed to intensify it. She pressed herself against him.

“Banner,” he groaned. His hand slid from her shoulder toward her waist, but on its descent it encountered the fullness of her breast. He paused, pressed.

The sensation that zephyred through her was rather more than she had bargained for. Frightened by its sizzling strength, she pushed away from him.

Grady’s eyes narrowed for a split second, then his head fell forward and he stared down at his shoes, abjectly ashamed of himself. “Banner…” he began.

“Please don’t apologize, Grady.” Her soft tone brought his eyes back up to hers. “I wanted you to touch me. I still do. But I know girls aren’t supposed to act like they enjoy the… the baser aspects of married life. I don’t want you to think badly of me. That’s why I stopped you.”

He clasped her hands in his, carried them to his lips and kissed them ardently. “I don’t think badly of you. I love you.”

She laughed, the throaty, husky laugh that had caused more than one cowboy in her father’s employ to lose sleep at night thinking about what it would be like to tumble Banner Coleman. “You won’t have a shy bride on your hands, Grady. You won’t have to coax me into bed with you.”

When she had gone into the house later, she overheard Ross and Lydia talking quietly in the parlor.

“Do you think she’s ready for marriage? She’s barely eighteen,” Ross was saying.

Lydia laughed softly. “She’s our daughter, Ross. All her life she’s seen the way we love each other. I don’t think married love holds any mysteries for her. She’s ready. As for her age, most of her friends are married. Some already have babies.”

“They’re not my daughters,” he growled.

“Come here and sit down. You’re wearing out the rug with that pacing.”

Banner could hear their movements as her father settled close to her mother on the sofa. She could picture him with his arm around Lydia, who would be cuddling against him familiarly. “Is it Grady you’re worried about?”

“No,” Ross said grudgingly. “I guess he’s everything he appears, steadfast, ambitious. He seems to love Banner. God, he’d better do right by her, or he’ll have me to answer to.”

She could almost see her mother’s soothing fingers running through Ross’s hair. “If anything, Banner will lead him a merry chase. She’s a headstrong young woman. Or haven’t you noticed?”

“Wonder who she gets that from?” Ross asked affectionately. There followed a silence. Banner knew they were embracing in a way that would have astounded most of her friends who had never even seen their parents touch. She could hear the whispering of their clothes as they settled more comfortably when the kiss ended.

Ross was the first to speak. “I wanted so much for our children. Much more than you and I ever had as kids.”

“I don’t remember anything beyond the day I met you.”

“Yes, you do,” he countered softly. “And so do I. I don’t worry about Lee so much. He can take care of himself. But Banner.” He sighed. “I’d kill any man who hurt her. I guess I’m relieved that the worst of my fears hasn’t come about.”

“What was that?”

“That some worthless cowboy would ride in here one day and sweep her off her feet.”

“She’s not impressed by cowboys. She’s been raised with them.”

“She’s never been eighteen either and had that look in her eyes. It’s been there since she was about sixteen.”

“What look?”

“Like the one you get every time I start unbuttoning my shirt.”

“Ross Coleman, you conceited—”

Her mother’s harangue was cut short, and there was no doubt in Banner’s mind that her father’s lips were responsible.

“I don’t have any kind of look,” Lydia protested weakly a few moments later.

“Oh, yes, you do. In fact”—Ross’s voice lowered—“you’ve got it right now. Come here, woman,” he whispered, before another thick silence ensued.

Smiling, Banner turned out the lamp in the hall and made her way upstairs to her room. She gazed into the mirror over her dressing table, pressing her nose against the glass and peering deeply into her eyes.

Did she have “that look”? Is that why Grady had dared to touch her in one of those forbidden places she and her girlfriends whispered about? Was she bad to want to be touched? Was Grady bad because he wanted to touch her?

If it were hard on her to resist, what must it be like for poor Grady, who was a man and therefore whose physical urges were harder to control?

She had gone to bed and tried to sleep, her mind as disquieted with questions as her body was with the desire to experience the unknown.

Well, she didn’t have much longer to wait, she thought as she watched her bridesmaids file down the central aisle of the church as had been rehearsed the day before.

“It’s our turn next, Princess,” Ross said. “Ready?”

“Yes, Papa.”

She was ready. She was ready to be loved by a man, ready for the smoldering fires in her body to be ignited, then quenched. She was ready to belong to one man, to have someone to hold in the night, someone to hold her. She was tired of feeling guilty over stolen kisses and moments when passion threatened to overstep the bounds of propriety.

Ross led her around the screen. They started down the aisle as the organ music swelled after a dramatic pause. Everyone stood and faced her as she made that slow march. She was greeted by a sea of friendly faces, most of whom she had known all her life. Bankers, merchants, tradesmen, lawyers, neighboring ranchers and farmers, and their families had turned out for Banner Coleman’s wedding day. With uncustomary boldness for a bride, Banner smiled back at them.

The Langstons were together in the row directly behind Lydia. First Ma, who was battling sentimental tears. Next were Anabeth, her husband, Hector Drummond, and their children, then Marynell. Micah stood between Marynell and Banner’s half-brother, Lee.

Her tormentors.

Even now, as she cast them a sidelong glance, she could tell they were hard pressed not to burst into laughter unbefitting the occasion. Withering glances from both Ma and Ross were all that stood between them and hilarity.

The boys had become bosom buddies when Micah moved to River Bend with his mother. At first Banner had been vindictively jealous of Micah, who had robbed her of her sole playmate. He still reminded her of the time she had put a burr under his horse’s saddle blanket. He had been thrown, but thankfully had escaped serious injury or death, which the six-year-old Banner had selfishly prayed for.

She had always tagged behind the boys, begging them to let her be a part of whatever mischief they were instigating. Often they let her participate, only to play the scapegoat when they got caught.

In spite of their squabbles, she loved both of them fiercely. They looked so handsome today standing together. Lee, with his dark hair and flashing brown eyes, which he had inherited from his mother, Victoria Gentry Coleman, and Micah, as fair as all the Langstons.

That brought Banner’s eyes to the last man in the pew. He received the brightest of her smiles.

Jake.

Jake, whom she had adored as far back as her memory would go. She could vividly remember each of his rare visits. He would sweep her high over his head, holding her there, smiling up into her face, until she kicked and begged for mercy, hoping all the while that he would never let her go.

No one was as tall as Jake. No one as strong. No one as blond. No one as dashing. No one could push the swing higher. No one told better ghost stories.

He had been her hero, her knight in shining armor. The happiest days of her life had been when Jake came to River Bend, because his presence there made everyone else happy too. Ma, Lydia, Ross, Lee and Micah, old Moses before he had died, everybody looked forward to Jake’s visits. The only bad thing about them was that they ended too quickly and were too infrequent.

As she got older and realized how seldom he came, the thought of his leaving often overshadowed the joy of having him there. She couldn’t completely enjoy his visit because she knew he would ride out and it would be forever before she would see him again.

That’s why near-chaos had broken out that morning when Micah and Lee came to the house for breakfast and Lee announced, “Looky here what we found sleeping in the barn this morning.”

He pushed Jake forward through the back door. He was immediately surrounded by laughing, chattering people all talking at once.

“Jake!”

“Son!”

“Well, I’ll be damned!”

“Ross, watch your language. The children.”

“Why were you sleeping in the barn?”

“My horse got a rock under his shoe last night when we got off the train.”

“We rode on the train, too, Uncle Jake!”

“Yeah, and she was scared, but I wasn’t.”

“I was not scared!”

“What time did you get in?”

“From where? Fort Worth?”

“Yeah, Fort Worth. It was late. I didn’t want to disturb anybody.”

“As if you could.”

Ma hugged him tight, clasping him against her bulk, squeezing her eyes shut against the emotion that moistened them. Then, flustered, she immediately launched into a lecture about how thin he was. “Sit yourself down and I’ll round you up some biscuits and gravy. Don’t that rancher out there in the Panhandle feed his hands right? I’ve seen garter snakes fatter than you. Did you wash your hands? Marynell, git your nose out of that book and pour your big brother some coffee. Anabeth, quieten them young’uns down. They’re makin’ more racket than a bunch of loose rocks in a pail.”

Jake had a young Drummond pulling on each leg like he was a wishbone. Another one had taken his hat and was trying it on for size. The one as yet unable to walk had crawled between his feet and was beating on the toe of his boot with a spoon. Anabeth stepped around her children to kiss her brother’s cheek and murmur, “Ma’s been worried sick about you,” into his ear. After delivering that private sisterly message, she hauled the children away from Jake and shooed them outside, admonishing the oldest to keep an eye on the baby.

Lydia walked into Jake’s open arms and hugged him. “I’m so glad you could come. We were worried you wouldn’t be able to.”

“I wouldn’t have missed it,” he said, his blue eyes moving from one loved face to another. “Hiya, Ross,” he said, reaching around Lydia to pump Ross’s hand. “How are things?”

“Fine, fine. You, Bubba?”

Every once in a while the old nickname slipped out. “Fair to middling, I guess.”

“How’s the job?”

“Quit it.”

“Quit?” Ma turned from the stove with a plate of hot biscuits in her hands.

Jake shrugged, obviously not wanting to dampen the festive mood by talking about his shiftlessness. “I had to come see the bride, didn’t I? Where is she anyway?”

His eyes roamed over the group clustered around him, deliberately overlooking Banner. She had hung back on purpose, wanting his undivided attention when she greeted him.

“Jake Langston, you know I’m the bride.” She rushed forward and flung herself into his arms, giving him a hard hug. His arms encircled her waist and lifted her off the ground. They spun two complete circles before he set her back down.

Pushing her away, he said, “Naw, you couldn’t be the bride. The Banner Coleman I know has braids and skinned shins and holes in the knees of her drawers. Let me see your drawers and I’ll know for sure.” He bent down to lift the skirt of her robe. She screeched and swatted at his hands.

“You’ll never see my drawers anymore, nor my shins, skinned or not. I’m all grown up now, or haven’t you noticed?” She struck an arrogant pose that all too clearly evidenced her maturity. She put one hand on her hip. The other she crooked behind her head, which she tilted drastically backward.

Lee guffawed. Micah whistled lecherously and clapped his hands. Jake assessed the Colemans’ daughter, whom he had known from the cradle. “You surely are at that,” he remarked seriously. “All grown up.” He laid his hands on her shoulders and leaned down to kiss her cheek respectfully. Then, to her consternation, the open palm of his hand landed on her fanny with a resounding smack. “But you’re still a snot-nosed kid to me. Find me a chair so I can eat these biscuits before they get cold.”

She had been too happy to see him to take offense, even though everyone had laughed at her. Now her heart expanded an extra degree when she caught his eye as she glided down the aisle. She was so proud of him, so proud that this tall man with the white-blond hair and brilliant blue eyes belonged to her family. Well, practically.

He had traded his cowboy clothes for a white shirt and black leather vest. He had swapped the bandana he always wore for a narrow black necktie. But his gun belt was still strapped around his hips. Banner supposed some habits were hard to break.

She reasoned that his behavior wouldn’t bear too close a scrutiny. He had probably done some things the law was better off not knowing. She was certain he drank, gambled, and dallied with the kind of women she wasn’t even supposed to know about. But none of that could stop her from loving him. His dashing and dangerous air only made him more appealing. No doubt the single girls at the wedding reception would demand an introduction.

One of those crystal-blue eyes, surrounded by sun-gilded lashes, closed, giving Banner a quick, secret wink. She winked back at him, remembering all the times he had told her secrets he swore he couldn’t tell Lee and Micah. She had believed him because she had wanted to. The friendship between them was stingily guarded. Every word he had ever whispered to her was treasured. Where his attention was concerned, she was ferociously jealous.

Banner knew there was a bond between him and her parents, especially her mother, that was secret and sacred. They never spoke of it. It was a topic never discussed. But with the intuition of a child, Banner had always sensed that it was there. Whatever it was, she was glad of it, because it kept Jake in their lives.

She looked at her mother now as she and Ross came even with the first pew. “I love you, Mama,” she whispered.

“I… we love you too,” Lydia whispered back, including Ross in the endearment. Tears were standing in her eyes, but she was smiling.

Banner smiled on them both before facing the minister. Ross took his position between her and Grady.

“Who gives this woman in marriage?” the minister asked.

“Her mother and I.”

Ross looked down into Banner’s face. His green eyes were misty. He squeezed her hand, then slipped it into Grady’s. He joined Lydia on the front pew.

Banner heard the shuffle of the crowd as everyone sat back down. She gazed into her groom’s face, knowing that no woman in the world had ever been happier than she was at that moment. Grady was the man she had chosen to spend her life with. They would love each other the way Mama and Papa did. She would make him happy every day of his life, no matter what it took. She was just as certain of Grady’s love as he looked down at her.

The minister began the ceremony. The poetic words took on new meaning for Banner. Yes, that phrase perfectly expressed what she felt for—

Crack!

The racket shattered the serene stillness in the church. The reverberation fell around Banner like pricking shards of glass.

Screams.

A rushing murmur rose from the congregation.

Banner whipped her head around.

Grady slumped against her.

A gaping wound bloomed red against his dark wedding suit.

“Grady!”

Beneath his sagging weight, Banner collapsed to the floor. He fell atop her. She struggled to a sitting position and gathered his head into her lap. Automatically she began loosening his necktie and collar. Small hiccupping sounds of pure terror stumbled from her throat. His eyes were opened and glazed with shock. He moved his lips uselessly but no words came out.

But he was still alive. Banner whimpered prayers of thankfulness as she covered the wound with her bare hand in an effort to stanch the flow of blood.

In the split second it all happened, Jake drew his pistol and whirled toward the man standing just outside the nearest window. He held a pistol aimed toward the front of the church.

“The bride gets it next.” The warning was issued in a raspy, malevolent voice. It was und