Free Favorite Wife by Susan Ray Schmidt Page B

About twenty-three?”
    â€œNow, Bud, don’t you start in on her,” Aunt Thelma interrupted. “I was the same way when I was her age. We Ray women mature early, and not just in looks. She may only be fourteen, but she could give any eighteen-year-old a run for her money. Couldn’t you, Susie?”
    I managed a tight smile and excused myself from the table.
    Cousin Mark, the boy just older than me, grinned and winked at me as I walked past him, and I fumed. I hated being treated like a child. I was grown up, whether Uncle Bud thought so or not. Hadn’t God given me a revelation about whom to marry?
    As I walked down the hall to my room, Uncle Bud was keeping it up. “Yep, Vern, you’re going to have to oil up the old shotgun because of that little blond.”
    â€œSpeaking of shotguns,” Dad’s deep voice boomed down the hall, “we had a little run-in with a shotgun here about a month ago. I tell you, Bud, some of these LeBaron men think they’re above the law.”
    I propped my bedroom door open a bit so I could eavesdrop. Dad went on and on about Alma’s visit to Jay and just what he thought about the whole thing. As they talked, I fixed my hair where Uncle Bud had pulled it loose from the French twist. I had on my favorite pink dress, but as I examined myself in the mirror, I pulled it off and changed into the blue and gray dress with the full skirt because Jay had told me it matched my eyes. Also, I was afraid Verlan would recognize my pink one.
    Dad’s voice carried well down the hall, and suddenly I heard him say, “You know, Bud, those LeBaron men are all so different. But in some things they’re like peas in a pod. Take Ervil now; just like Alma, Ervil thinks he can run people’s lives.”
    Dad’s voice abruptly dropped in volume. Whatever else he was saying about Ervil LeBaron was being muffled. I hurried to the door and stuck my head out, but the conversation was being carried on in a whisper. I lingered for a moment, but Dad’s voice remained too low. Whatever he was discussing now was a secret, and it sounded like Dad was unhappy with Ervil again. Bud’s oldest daughter was one of Ervil’s wives, and what was Dad doing ragging on Ervil to him? I wished I knew more about what was going on.
    I closed the door and took one last look in the mirror. Today of all days I wanted to look my best. Staring back at me was a five-foot-five-inch young lady of medium build, with high cheekbones, a clear complexion, and big blue eyes fringed with dark, curly lashes and brown, even brows. Thick, ash-blond hair, pulled up in a mature style, definitely made me look eighteen. My dress was belted snug around my waist, and my bosom pushed hard at the fabric. I might not steal all the men’s hearts today, but there was one man’s heart that I hoped would at least skip a beat or two. I put just a dab of Mom’s perfume behind my ears, picked up my Bible and Book of Mormon, and walked into the kitchen.
    â€œAre you guys ready?” I called to Jay and Mark as they combed their hair at the mirror above the washstand by the back door. They certainly looked ready—a couple of lady-killers, all dolled up in their suits and ties. I whistled my admiration. Mark’s hair curled long over his collar and glistened with blond highlights. He’d inherited Aunt Thelma’s perfect, white smile and Uncle Bud’s hazel eyes, complete with the constant twinkle. He wasn’t very tall, but his muscular body sported a golden tan.
    Next to Mark, Jay’s serious persona seemed especially grave. He looked his best, with his dark brown hair all plastered down and his nicest clothes on, but his dark blue eyes were thoughtful and distant. I ached for him.
    â€œI will certainly feel proud to walk to church with the two best-looking guys in town,” I declared, smiling brightly.
    Jay grinned self-consciously. Taking my books, he