Free Land of a Thousand Dreams by BJ Hoff Page A

just that—letting her waist-length hair down for him. Invariably, he found Sara’s flustered refusals a matter of great amusement. “I believe the woman is deceiving me,” he would say, his eyes dancing with fun. “The proper little knot is nailed to her neck and will not budge.”
    But then, as was so often the way with him, his mischievous mood would suddenly turn. His eyes would darken, his mouth soften, and the teasing note in his voice would disappear. “Sara a gra ,” he would say softly against her cheek, “promise me this, that once we are man and wife before God, you will allow me to take the pins from your hair and let it fall free, in all its glory. Promise me that you will take your hair down for my eyes alone when you are my wife.”
    The instant the predictable blush spread over Sara’s face at this promised intimacy, he would smile into her eyes, then gently kiss her.
    Sara closed her eyes, hugging her arms to herself at the memory.
    Was she making a mistake in delaying the wedding? Just last week, while discussing the date yet again, Michael had become almost cross with her, had even hinted that her reluctance might not be entirely due to Tierney.
    She could still see the uneasy question in his eyes as he searched her face. “You are sure it’s Tierney, Sara? You’d not be having second thoughts about marrying me?”
    Dismayed that he would even think such a thing, Sara had made every protest she could think of. Still, when they parted soon after, she wasn’t at all sure she had managed to convince him.
    Laying her brush on the vanity, she stared into the mirror. There was nothing she had ever wanted more than to be Michael’s wife. Nothing! The very thought of being married to him made her heart leap like a spring.
    That she could be so foolish over a man still amazed her. She stammered like a schoolgirl every time Michael walked into a room. And when he gave her that special, caressing look she knew to be just for her, the world around them simply faded away.
    Even now, months after he’d made his feelings known, she found it nearly impossible to take in the fact that he loved her—really loved her—that he had actually asked her to be his wife. Her, with her too-wide mouth and her turned-up nose with its unladylike freckles, and her hateful lame leg.
    She knew her father was right. There were those who would undoubtedly accuse Michael of being a fortune hunter. Why else would such a handsome, vital man give her a second look, they would say? Just as certainly, there were others who would think her mad for marrying a man like Michael. Common, they would call him.
    They would not believe what she had found with him, the wonder, the splendor, the pure exultation of their love. Why, if it had not been for Tierney, she would never have thought of delaying the wedding! She smiled briefly at her reflection in the mirror. On the contrary, she would more than likely have set the date indecently soon!
    The smile faded as the thought of Tierney came to mind. Michael had been at his wits’ end about his son even before their engagement, openly admitting he did not understand him, could not fathom what drove the boy.
    â€œI never know what to expect from him,” he had told her one night, long before asking her to be his wife. “One minute he’s a shooting star, bright, happy—lighthearted, even. The next he’s a dark stone, hard and cold—a mystery.”
    That same night he had confessed his fear for Tierney. Even now, the memory of the terrible pain in Michael’s eyes sent a shudder of dread pitching over Sara. “It’s almost as if the boy has some sort of wildness whipping him on, driving him away from me and all I’ve ever held holy. Sometimes, Sara, I have a fierce terror for my son: that the part of him I know to be good will eventually be overcome by this other thing…this dark side of