Jessie nodded. “I'm not trying to scare you, but when I lived in Dodge, I helped a woman sneak girls out of town who were pregnant.” She gave a long, sad sigh before saying, “Some, who refused to leave didn't live to have their babies, and others were treated very, very badly.” Her eyes met Lila's. “Those that died didn't die in childbirth. They were murdered, and even then the town folks refused to bury the girls inside the church cemetery. They had to be buried outside of town."
Ice cold, Lila whispered, “Oh, my God."
Skeeter didn't know feet could tremble, but his were. He curled his toes and tried to focus on what Reverend Kirkpatrick said. It was no use. He couldn't make out the man's mumbling. All he could think about was the fact Lila had agreed to marry him. She was marrying him. Right here, right now in his mother's kitchen. Whatever Jessie had said to her had changed her mind. He'd thank his sister-in-law until the day he died.
After he'd admitted to Kid he was in love, the thought had settled, and ultimately made him quiver with happiness. He hoped Lila was happy about it too. Tilting his head, he snuck a glance.
Her green eyes glistened and a soft smile covered her face as she looked back at him. His heart leaped, he curled his toes tighter. Did that mean she was happy? Was it possible she could love him? Surely not, most folks didn't take a quick liking to him, let alone fall in love with him.
But that was before. Before he'd been a ghost. Before he'd met Lila. From now on, he was a new man. He was going to spend the rest of his life making her the happiest woman on earth, waiting for the day Lila would look at him the way Jessie looked at Kid—like he'd hung the moon just for her.
A weight landed on his shoulder. Skeeter glanced to his side. Standing next to him, Kid leaned closer and whispered, “Go ahead little brother, kiss your bride."
Skeeter whipped his head around, met Lila's smiling, expectant gaze. His heart raced so fast it was sure to beat its way right out of his chest, fall to the floor, and race out the front door. Taking a quick breath and hoping it would help keep the organ in his chest, he leaned down to press his lips to hers.
He'd kissed women before, he'd even given Lila a quick peck over the past couple of days, but nothing had prepared him for this. As soon as his lips touched hers, excitement raced through his body like a wild fire in August. It left no area untouched or uncharred.
Sweeter than honey, her soft, sweet lips moved beneath his. His arms folded around her. Gently, he tugged her lithe body against his burning frame and twisted his head so he could get a deeper taste.
Her arms, wrapped around his neck, clung to him as her fingers ran through his hair, encouraging him to delve deeper. When her lips parted, and his tongue entered the sweet cavern of her mouth, he wondered if he died again, but this time he'd gone to heaven. He could almost hear angels singing.
Someone clearing their throat, loud and obnoxiously, broke the sweet song. Skeeter scowled and opened one eye to see who was interrupting his bliss. The unhappy glare of Reverend Kirkpatrick made both of his eyes pop open. Abruptly, and regretfully, he ended the kiss.
Lila sighed as they separated. Her cheeks were redder than the roses his brother, Snake, grew out back. She didn't open her eyes, just laid her head against his chest. Skeeter ran a protective hand over her back as he glared back at the man of the cloth. Reverend or not, the man had no right to embarrass his wife.
A wide smile formed as the thought set in. Lila was his wife. He glanced down, and her face lifted. A smile tugged on her wet lips.
"Yahoo!” He shouted and not caring what anyone else thought, he lifted his new wife into the air and swung her around, making a full circle. The room filled with laughter. After he settled her back onto the floor, he turned to Reverend Kirkpatrick and thrust a hand forward. “Thank you, Reverend,” he said with earnest.
"You're welcome,” the preacher said then turned to the others in the room, “May I present Mr. and Mrs. Steven Quinter."
The audience began to clap, and Jessie stepped forward. She planted a little kiss on Skeeter's cheek and said, “Congratulations."
She turned to embrace Lila, and Kid stepped forward with an outstretched hand. “Congratulations."
"Thank you, thank you both very much,” Skeeter said through the smile pulling hard on his lips. His heart had to be as big as a water bucket, and full to the brim with happiness.
Lila looked up at him, smiled and said, “Yes, thank you both very much."
The bucket overflowed.
"Well, I think some cake and coffee is in order,” Stephanie Quinter said. “Hog baked a brown sugar and molasses one this morning."
Lila's head was still spinning as Skeeter led her to the table. His kiss had almost knocked her socks off, and the tumbles in her stomach had nothing to do with the baby.
He'd been so sweet and kind to her the past couple of days. She'd thought it was just because that was the kind of man he was. Even when he'd asked her to marry him, she'd believed it was out of kindness. But his kiss hadn't been thoughtful. It had a much deeper core.
Her fingers touched her lips, caressing the puffiness his passion had instilled. She covered her mouth, not wanting anyone to hear her intake of breath.
Skeeter had fallen in love with her!
A deep sinking feeling hit her stomach like a rock, and her shoulders drooped. Her life had just gone from bad to worse.
How had she let it happen? How did it happen? They'd only known each other for two days. She'd recognized the love she felt for him growing in her chest. But she loved everything—chocolate ice cream; long, hot showers;
American Idol
, and numerous other things. She could deal with her love. But his love...She sighed. It meant the one thing she didn't want to happen would. She'd hurt him. If he was in love with her when the time came for her to return to the future, her leaving would break his heart. She'd had her heart broken—the night of her junior prom, when Mike Schmidt had stood her up, took Heather Reins to the prom instead. That had been an awful experience. She'd cried for months.
She reached over, clutched Skeeter's hand. He turned and the smile on his face made her heart flip and beat faster than a rock and roll song. Her blood began to bubble, sending a happy, light feeling to her head. The sad memories disappeared. She grinned back and leaned against his broad shoulder. His was so very handsome, and being married to him would be wonderful.
Professor Rutledge came to mind, the teacher whose psychology class she'd just completed, the one where she'd studied the generations. He'd said since birth millennials had been told, by both the media and over indulgent parents, they could have it all. Maybe he was right. Skeeter was the man of her dreams, and the universe had seen a way to bring them together, surely it would also find a way for them to stay together.
Her heart fluttered.
He could come back to the future with her.
A wide smile made her cheekbones raise. The other thing about her generation; they are extremely optimistic. And believed there was no sense waiting until tomorrow for what they can have today.
She pressed her lips to the hard bulge of his bicep beneath her cheek. He leaned down, kissed the top of her head. As she sat up, their eyes met, and at that moment the year two-thousand-eight ceased to exist. It didn't matter what century it was, she was married to the most wonderful man on earth, and it was her wedding day.
Happiness bubbled from her chest as she glanced about the room. Everyone had been served cake and coffee. She broke off a large piece of her slice, and held it up to Skeeter's lips. “It's tradition, the bride and groom have to feed each other their first bites."
His cheeks turned slightly pink. “Really?"
She nodded and glanced to his plate.
He broke off a chunk, held it before her mouth. The rest of the occupants in the room became little more than wallflowers. Her skin, pricked with pleasure, tingled as they fed each other. They took the time to lick sweet, sticky, leftover frosting from each others fingertips. Lila didn't know which was more overwhelming, tasting his skin, or the way his tongue sensually curled around her fingers, but she felt herself melting.
Since it was already extremely late, the wedding party didn't last long. After saying farewell and good night, Skeeter led her to a bedroom on the wall opposite from the one she'd been in earlier. He pushed the door open. Every inch of her pulsed with excitement and anticipation. The room was rustic, and the flickering light from the oil lamp, sitting on a highboy chest beside the bed, made everything look extremely romantic.
Skeeter closed the door behind them. She twirled around to wrap her arms around his waist. The steady beat of his heart thudded against her ear.
It was surreal, the world around them extremely quiet. No horns honked or voices from a T.V. filled the air. She lifted her face, looked at him. “Please tell me I'm not dreaming. Please tell me this isn't some kind of virtual reality video game."
He chuckled. “I assure you it's not a dream, or whatever kind of game you just mentioned."
"Kiss me,” she whispered.
"Gladly."
If possible the merger was stronger, more intense than his wedding kiss. She consumed the sweet, savory taste that was all him; overtaken by the acute and demanding need surging from the pit of her being. Her fingers worked the buttons of his shirt, her hands searching for the hot, rippled contours of his chest. She kneaded the hills and valleys before reaching around to grasp his hips and tug him forward as she walked backwards, toward the bed.
He broke the kiss, lifting his lips and gasping for air. She giggled and turned around, presenting the long row of buttons down her back. “You have to help me out of this contraption."
Very slowly, his fingers unlatched the long row of minuscule buttons, the material loosening a bit with each movement. She wiggled, anticipation killing her.
"Hold still. You're squirming like a cat in a bag.” He kissed the back of her neck.
She twisted her head, wanting to catch his lips. “I feel more like a firecracker, and someone has already lit the fuse."
His lips brushed over hers as his hands slipped the dress off her shoulders.
She turned around, facing him with a sly smile. Slowly, teasingly, she tugged her arms out of the material and let the gown flutter to the floor. Her fingers walked up the front of his shirt. Then back down so she could tug the material out of his pants. It was surprising—how forward she was behaving, but it was all so incredible, this overwhelming need she had for him.
Since the moment her eyes had settled on his bare chest yesterday, her sexual desires had been kicked into high gear. For the past two days she'd barely stopped thinking about this moment. Wondering, fantasizing how it would feel to have his weight settled atop her.
His hands slipped around her neck, massaging and caressing until they came to rest on her cheeks. She gazed into his face. Something there made her hands grow still on his hips. “What? What is it?” she asked, holding her breath.
He wanted her, the evidence was as clear as the nose on his face, yet something was making him appear reluctant. His face held almost a painful expression. “Oh, your head! Does it still hurt?"
"No, I'm fine. But, you...Your, um, condition, the baby. I don't know if we..."
Relieved, she smiled. “It's perfectly safe. Besides pregnant woman are supposed to get plenty of exercise."
His eyes sparkled, but his gaze still held a touch of doubt. “You're sure?"
"Positive.” She ran her hands around to his back, pulling the rest of the shirt tail out of his britches. Pushing the shirt aside, she roamed both hands over his hard, hot chest. “You aren't considering denying me my wedding night, are you?"
He laughed, and for a moment she wondered if the rest of the house heard the joyful sound. The next instant, and in one swift movement, he picked her up, twisted and gently lowered her to the bed. He leaned over her, caressed her cheeks gently. “I don't plan on denying you anything my sweet wife."
She grabbed his neck, pulling his head downward. “I'm so glad to hear that."
Sunshine, bright and hot, the following morning made everything look as full of light and as happy as Skeeter felt. After eating a hearty meal with his mother and younger brothers, he led Lila from the house, stealing a kiss as they walked across the front yard.
When the merger ended, he wrapped his hands around her trim waist, and lifted her into the buckboard. It was unimaginable a baby could grow in area so tiny. His big hands easily spanned Lila's middle. Her stomach was firm and flat. He'd never felt anything as silky smooth as her skin. Memories of the night before made his loins tighten.
It was so amazing they were married. He'd told Kid everything. How he'd participated in Buffalo Killer's ghost dance. How he'd saved Lila; how the tunnel had caved in, Pete chasing her—all of it. His brother had helped him come up with a plan, and this morning they were going to Kid and Jessie's to gather supplies for the trip back to their land. His chest swelled with pride at the thought of sharing his land with Lila. He glanced up.
She smiled and scooted over, making room for him on the seat and settling the long skirt of her purple dress over her knees. He climbed onto the driver's seat and as he took the reins, she settled a hand on his thigh. The bulge in his britches grew. Their wedding night had been beautiful. He almost chuckled aloud at the thought. He'd never used the word beautiful before in his life, but he couldn't think of another way to describe it. And not even the devil himself could wipe the smile off his face this morning.
"So, where are we going?"
"Like I said at breakfast, over to Kid's then we'll drive into Nixon and get you some decent shoes,” he glanced at the feet she'd settled on the front base board. “I thought we'd stop by Willamina's on the way. See if there's anything she needs from town."
"Who?"
"Willamina and Eva. They're friends of the family."