Authors: Penny Richards
Joy bubbled up inside her, making it just as hard for her to speak. “Mr. Randall Northam, I do wish you would.”
“But I mean may I really, truly, kiss you?”
Now she understood. Not a brotherly peck on the cheek. Not a sweet kiss on her forehead. But a kiss smack on her lips promising her all the good things to come. “Oh, yes, Rand, me love, you may.”
And so he did.
Chapter Fifteen
A
fter Christmas the men of Esperanza took advantage of every sunny day to complete the church addition. With winter slowing down many ranch duties, Rand had time to supervise the building project, which would benefit the entire community. As nice as it was to have the ballroom at the Northam house, folks in town needed a place to gather so they didn't have to travel so far for special events.
Rand enjoyed working with his hands. Seeing the structure take shape gave him a sense of satisfaction as nothing else he'd ever done. Every board he sawed, every nail he hammered, meant the church would soon have rooms for Sunday school. And none too soon.
At the Christmas Eve party, Nate had read the Christmas story from the Bible. With Susanna seated nearby, baby Nathaniel in her lap, Lizzy standing beside them, Nate had then talked about how special every baby was. Yet as much as he loved his son and daughter, he reminded everyone that the most special baby ever born was baby Jesus, the Son of God, because He had come to save His people from their sins. The children listened quietly, their eyes full of wonder, partly because Nate had a gift for storytelling, partly because some of the children were hearing the story for the first time.
Yep, they sure did need Sunday school, and Nate would make a very good teacher. Funny how a man who could make his drovers quake in their boots could speak so gently to the little ones, yet still capture their attention, just like Dad.
Rand would gladly take on the job of teaching the older boys. He'd make sure they knew all about his careless attitude toward life at their age and how it had caused him nothing but grief. Maybe he could keep them from following in his footsteps. As always, that thought reminded Rand of Tolley and his turnaround after the shooting. It was the one good thing to come out of the bank robbery.
As the days passed, Rand's former feelings of failure and inadequacy faded away. Like Tolley, instead of admiring him for killing a dangerous outlaw, his neighbors now followed his leadership in building the church addition. He didn't ever expect to completely be free of the guilt over killing Cole Lyndon, but he'd come to a place of peace with the Lord about it. It was time to move on and take his place in the community, with his beloved Marybeth at his side.
So Rand set a fast but careful pace for the men, urging them to give as much time as possible to the completion of the addition. For his part, he was there every day. It didn't hurt that the first social event to take place after the building's dedication would be his own wedding reception.
* * *
On a Saturday in late January 1882, Marybeth and Lucy stood in the cloakroom at the back of the sanctuary, both dressed in white. Lucy wore Susanna's three-year-old wedding dress, let down a few inches to accommodate her greater height. Marybeth wore the satin gown her future mother-in-law had bought for her last spring in Boston.
Although Marybeth would have been pleased to have Colonel and Mrs. Northam at the wedding, she couldn't wait for spring to become Mrs. Randall Northam. All fences had been mended, including her relationship with Lucy. Even Nolan wished her well and admitted his affection for her was no match for Rand's obvious devotion. He proved the truth of his sentiments by providing white roses from his hothouse for the bridal bouquets.
Attending Marybeth and Lucy were Laurie and Beryl Eberly, each dressed in a new blue gown made by Lucy's mother. Beryl had survived the gunshot wound, and her color, while still a bit pale, promised full recovery.
Also recovered was Mrs. Foster, who now played Richard Wagner's “Bridal Chorus,” signaling the time had come for the brides to make their grand entrance. Nate offered an arm to each girl, and they proceeded down the aisle toward Rand and Seamus. Tolley stood up with his brother, and Wes, another longtime Northam cowhand, stood beside Seamus. Marybeth thought her red-bearded brother presented a very fine picture, but surely no groom had ever been as handsome as clean-shaven Rand in his new black frock coat, white shirt and black string tie.
Her heart overflowing with love and joy, tears clouding her vision, Marybeth traded a look with her soon-to-be sister. Lucy's blue eyes shone bright in the morning sunlight streaming through the east windows.
Did any bride ever remember saying her actual wedding vows? Before Marybeth knew it, Reverend Thomas had pronounced the two couples men and wives, and Rand was kissing her right in front of the whole congregation. Everyone burst into applause, something she'd never witnessed in her more formal Boston church. Her Fairfield Young Ladies' Academy training notwithstanding, she much preferred the relaxed and homey feel of Esperanza Community Church. Here no one looked down on her for being Irish.
The reception hall in the new church addition was festooned with evergreen garlands. Two tables laden with presents, each with a three-tiered cake baked by Miss Pam in the center, awaited the bridal couples. In the corner, a trellised arbor decorated with white silk roses provided the perfect spot for wedding pictures.
Lucy and Seamus posed first for the traveling photographer, whose large black camera served as a source of great interest to the children. The young man promised to take a picture of them all together if they would just stand safely away while he worked. He ducked under the black cloth and held up the lighting pan. As the magnesium powder flashed, the children shrieked with delight. Next, Rand took his seat beneath the arbor, and Marybeth stood just behind him, her lace-gloved hand on his shoulder. Again the powder flashed and again the children shrieked. Marybeth had to blink several times to clear her vision.
By late afternoon the reception dinner had been served by the ladies of the church, the presents opened and the cakes cut and eaten. Now Marybeth longed to be alone with her beloved. Standing behind the table that held their gifts, she stood on tiptoes to whisper in his ear. “Can we slip away without anyone seeing us?”
He cast a furtive glance around the room. “I did hear mention of a shivaree, but that would be later on this evening.” He chuckled. “Funny how I was annoyed with Nate for skipping out after his wedding so we couldn't do the honors for him and Susanna. Now I'm hoping we can escape it.” He tugged her to his side and gazed down at her, love shining in his eyes. “You ready to go?”
“Oh, yes. More than ready.” She noticed a few ranch hands huddled together in another corner and occasionally glancing her way. Nothing terrified her more than the idea of being carried away from Rand now or ever. “How are we going to get away without being noticed?”
“Slip out into the hallway and hide in the second room on the right. I'll enlist Tolley's help. He owes me.” He placed a quick kiss beneath her ear that sent delightful shivers down her neck.
In the Sunday school room, she found her woolen shawl among the other coats and wraps and flung it around her shoulders. She waited by the window until Rand came around with his horse. Why hadn't he brought a buggy? He knew she'd never ridden. Yet once he helped her out through the window, placed her in the saddle and then swung up behind her, she felt safe and secure in his arms. Circling around the church, they rode south of town. The sun was near setting by the time they passed Four Stones Lane and continued south.
“Where are we going?” Marybeth called over her shoulder.
“Nate and Susanna said we could stay at their house until Mother and Dad return. After that, they'll move back in. I plan to start building our own place right away.”
With its columned front porch and numerous windows, the pretty one-story white house looked homey and inviting. Rand shoved open the front door and carried her inside. He set her down in the center of the charming little parlor, lit a kerosene lamp and started a fire in the stone fireplace.
“Susanna promised to send over some provisions from the big house.” He led Marybeth to the well-stocked kitchen. “Looks like we could hole up here for weeks without anybody knowing where we are.” He checked the cast-iron cookstove. “Needs wood, but there's a pile by the back door.”
Lamp held high, he showed her the rest of the house, including three bedrooms. Baby Nathaniel's nursery was equipped with brand-new mahogany furniture Nate had bought in Denver after the cattle drive. Lizzy's room had dainty feminine furnishings. Marybeth could hardly wait to decorate such rooms for her own little ones.
Next, Rand took her to the master bedroom, a spacious and well-appointed chamber. He set the lamp on an oak chest of drawers, from where it cast a warm light on the bright quilt covering the four-poster. Heat rushed to Marybeth's cheeks as she considered the implication of standing in this room with her new husband.
“Now that you've had the tour, did you get any ideas for our house?” Rand tucked his thumbs through his belt loops and leaned back against the door jamb. “I'll build whatever you like.”
“Well, right at the moment, I wasn't exactly thinking about our house.” She gave him a saucy grin.
He blinked those big green eyes in mock astonishment. “Why, Mrs. Northam, are you thinking what I think you're thinking?”
“Why, I don't know, Mr. Northam.” She giggled. “What do you think I'm thinking?”
Instead of answering he gathered her in his arms and leaned down to deliver another one of those heart-stopping kisses. She did her best to answer in kind.
Then he froze. “Do you hear that?”
“Rand, don't tease.” She tried to capture his lips again.
“Wait. Shh. Listen.”
Sure enough, discordant sounds reached her ears from afar, growing closer by the second.
“Oh, no.”
“Quick. Put out the lamp. I'll douse the fire.” He hurried away from her toward the parlor.
After turning down the lamp wick, she followed close on his heels through the darkened house. He raced from window to window, locking them and closing draperies. Outside the noise had grown to a loud cacophony of rattles, bangs, gunfire, whooping and who knew what else.
Marybeth grabbed her new husband's arm. “Oh, Rand, don't let them take me away from you. Please.”
“Take you away?” Even in the dim room, she could see his tender expression. He pulled her into a secure embrace. “They won't do that, darlin'.”
“They won't force their way in?”
He chuckled. “No. We don't do it that way around here. They'll just keep us awake all night. Unless they decide we're not here.”
Relief swept through her and she leaned into his chest. “I hope they didn't see the smoke from the fireplace.”
“Maybe they missed it in the dark.”
From the noise still resounding through the walls, she was fairly sure they hadn't.
“Even so,” he said, “they'll smell the smoke.”
Marybeth chewed her lip for a moment. “Do you suppose if we feed them, they'll go away? I could make some soup.”
“It's an idea.”
She spied his concertina beside the settee. “And we could sing to them.”
His broad shoulders slumped. “I've been too busy to practice.”
Now she giggled. “With a little warm-up, I think my fingers will remember a couple of songs.”
He laughed with her; a deep, throaty chuckle that tickled her insides. “Shall I invite them in?”
“Why not? I'll fix some coffee to warm them up and then start the soup.”
Within a few minutes the Eberly sisters, the Northam brothers, the other newlyweds Seamus and Lucy, and numerous cowboys and townspeople had crowded into the parlor and kitchen. Lamps were lit, fires were stoked in the hearth and kitchen stove and soup bubbled in a cast-iron pot.
As the laughter and merriment swirled around her, Marybeth couldn't regret this interruption of her wedding night. After all, she was now a part of a wonderful community. All of these people accepted her, loved her. Like Rand's love for her, this was a treasure greater than any she'd ever dreamed about.
And she could live with that.
* * * * *
Keep reading for an excerpt from FALLING FOR THE ENEMY by Naomi Rawlings.
Dear Reader,
Thank you for choosing
Cowboy Seeks a Bride
, the second book in my Four Stones Ranch series. I hope you enjoyed the adventures of my heroine, Marybeth O'Brien, and my hero, Randall Northam. For many years I have wanted to write a series of stories set in the beautiful San Luis Valley of Colorado, and now I'm doing just that.
I moved to the Valley as a teenager, graduated from Alamosa High School and attended Adams State College. Later my husband and I settled in Monte Vista, where my parents owned and operated a photography business, Stanger Studios. Three of our children were born in Monte Vista, and one was born in Alamosa. Even though we moved to Florida in 1980, my heart remained attached to my former home in Colorado. Writing this book has been a sweet, nostalgic trip for me.
Those familiar with the history of this area of Colorado may recognize a little bit of Monte Vista in my fictional town, Esperanza. I could have used the real town, but then I would have shortchanged the true pioneers of Monte Vista, who deserve accolades for their courage and foresight in building such a fine community. In addition, I wanted the freedom of artistic license necessary to create an interesting story without offending the residents of my former home. Other than Pam and Charlie Williams, my dear friends who granted me permission to use their names for two of my fictional characters, any resemblance between my other characters and those who actually settled in this area is strictly coincidental.
If you enjoyed Marybeth and Rand's story, I hope you'll look for Book Three in my series. Rosamond Northam was raised on a Colorado ranch along with her three brothers, but three years in a Boston finishing school may have transformed this Wild West cowgirl. Has she changed enough to win the heart of a proper English aristocrat?
I love to hear from my readers, so if you have a comment, please contact me through my web site:
http://blog.Louisemgouge.com
.
Blessings,
Louise M. Gouge