Free Better Unwed Than Dead by Laura Rosemont Page B

was
such a pretty ring! An antique, like most of her bobbles, the
diamond was exactly what she'd have chosen for herself…if she could
ever safely marry. Nick knew her taste so well. In fact, he knew
every aspect of her so well—mind, body and spirit—that she couldn’t
imagine how he thought she'd readily accept a proposal. It was his
life on the line, for goodness sake!
    Nick remained kneeling, glaring pensively at
the ground. Julia thought he’d flinch away when she fluffed his
hair, but instead he stiffly joined her on the ledge.
    "This is about that ridiculous dress isn't
it?"
    "You know it is, but it's hardly ridiculous.
Do you really want to die young? Because that's what would happen
if I got married in any dress but the dress."
    "Honey, come on--"
    "I told you all this last fall. You said you
understood!"
    "I understood you had a family legend,
folklore. That there was a superstition connected to your great,
great whatever grandma’s wedding gown. But I’m not a believer."
    "But I am! There's proof! Two husbands dead
before their time after their wives opted to not wear the dress on
their wedding day. My mother didn’t follow her mother’s good
example. She followed her poor grandmother’s example, and the
result… Nick, we can’t risk having what happened to my dad happen
to you.”
    "Julia, come on, honey. I want to marry you.
I need to. I want our relationship to be official."
    "And I need you to keep living.”
    “What about when we have kids? Don’t you want
them to be legitimate? Or do you want them to be bastards like
me?”
    “What difference does it make? Who would
label them illegitimate bastards when they’re raised in a loving,
two-parent household, marriage certificate or no?”
    Nick rolled his eyes at Julia’s naivety.
“Plenty of people would, Julia. When you’re raised in the south by
a single mother and no one is quite sure who your daddy is, you
learn early the things people will say.” Elbows resting on his
knees, he scrubbed his hands over his face in frustration.
    Julia rubbed her palm over his back, trying
to sooth him. “Ok, I do understand your desire to have our future
family to be legitimate—although I still can’t imagine who in their
right would call our children bastards—okay, maybe in a little
southern town thirty-five years ago people were that crass—but
still, it’s not worth risking your life over. As long as our
children are raised by us in a loving environment, a wedding won’t
make a difference.”
    Nick wasn’t ready to give up so easily. "So,
let me make sure I have this straight. You’re truly never going to
marry me because you can't do it in a supposedly cursed moth eaten
sack?
    Come on, Julia." He stood and began
pacing.
    "Don't talk about it like that," she
whispered, looking around as if the spirit of the missing gown
might somehow overhear and dole out retribution. “And it’s not a
sack, and it’s not moth eaten. At least it wasn’t the last time I
saw it.”
    "Why would you even want to be married in a
dress you fear so much? No, no. Don't answer. It's because I'd 'die
young' if you didn't." He groaned then dropped back onto the rock
ledge,long legs stretched out and his arms crossed over his chest,
looking very much to Julia like an overgrown, pouting child.
    "Well, if I had the dress to wear, then there
wouldn't be anything to fear." God help her, why did the dress have
to stolen along with other valuables during the burglary three
years earlier? Why did she suddenly, desperately want to be Nick's
wife when just ten minutes ago cozily cohabitating and
out-of-wedlock babies hadn't bothered her? Julia glanced at the
small velvet box resting between them and knew the answer. When he
asked 'will you marry me' and flashed that ring under nose, her
long and stringently suppressed desire to be a bride, a wife, one
half of a holy union, had broken free like a bird from its cage.
That and it was an utterly gorgeous ring.
    “Julia, don’t