“If you don’t, we’ll take this story to the press.” Lars added. The fiery sparks that passed between the two men could have torched a forest.
“We don’t want to, sir. My ma always thought you were a good man. That’s why we took the chance to come here today.” Ellie tried throwing some water on the flame.
“We just want to get married, find my brother, and live in peace.” Lars pulled Ellie closer to his side. “Can you stop him?”
The room throbbed with tension. The senator picked up the poster and studied it for long minutes. “Are you fifteen?”
“I’m eighteen,” she replied. “We figure he was trying to drum up sympathy by saying I’m underage. Although the reward was enough incentive on its own.”
“I will go to San Francisco and look into the matter.” He held up a hand to ward off the protest building in Lars’ eyes. “First, I will send men out to collect these posters. When I reach San Francisco, I will make Simon understand he is to quit his search. I will look into the other charges you have levied, but rest assured you may travel freely. I would ask that you remain in Sacramento for two or three days while I secure these flyers.”
“All right.” Lars’ voice held suspicion. “I expect we’ll have to trust you. If Simon comes after Ellie again, I’ll kill him before he takes her.”
The two men held a long, hard stare. The senator looked away first, and Lars was mighty glad. The man knew deep in his heart that his grandson was capable of terrible deeds. He’d buried that knowledge, but their story dug it up and threw it into the light.
“I understand,” the older man acknowledged. He opened the central door of his desk, removed a key and opened a small drawer on the right side. After some shuffling, he laid fifty dollars before Lars. “I’ve asked you to remain in Sacramento, and that is an expensive proposition. Anyway, this is traveling money. My grandson has caused you a great deal of trouble, and I’d like to make up for it.”
Lars stared at the money, but he didn’t move toward it.
“Please. It’s not hush money. It’s not a bribe for your silence. I just hope to make up for my grandson’s actions in this small way.” He shrugged and leaned forward with his palms face down on the big desk. “If it is true, and I’m afraid it rings of truth, I will be sure Simon cannot continue in this manner.”
Lars picked up the bills, folded them and put them in the pocket of his shirt. “We’re putting our faith in you, Senator. Don’t let us down.”
He extended a hand to Ellie and pulled her to her feet. They crossed to the big doors and swung them soundlessly open. Lars pivoted toward the big desk one last time. “Senator.” He gave a brisk nod, threaded Ellie’s arm through his elbow and retreated to the street.
“I wasn’t sure you would take his money,” Ellie said after they’d reached the outside.
“Well, I gave it a good think, Ellie girl. But I figure the Prescotts owe us a honeymoon.” He dropped a kiss onto the top of her flaming hair. “We’re going to buy new clothes, have hot baths, find a preacher and get hitched.” He paused. His stomach clenched. What if she didn’t want him now that the danger was in the past? “If you’re willing, that is. I know I asked once, but a lot has happened. I need to ask again. Will you marry me, Ellie girl? I love you something fierce.”
“Yes, oh, yes, Lars, I’ll marry you. I love you, too. Let’s get a move on. I want to be Mrs. Nielson before the sun sets on this day.”
Lars leaned over backward and gave a yell fit to raise the dead, and then he whooped once more for good measure. He took her small hand into his and pulled her to his side.
“Let’s go. We’re wasting daylight. That old sun won’t wait on us, and I got big plans for the night,” he declared.
“Mighty big plans.”
Chapter 11
Ellie surveyed the girl in the looking glass. When she raised her hand to touch the crown of lace, that girl in the mirror followed right along. Well, if that didn’t beat all. She ran her hand down the front of the skirt and rewarded the girl in the mirror with a wink and a smile.
Lars had scooted her into this shop amidst much protest. She’d never bought a dress, or anything else for that matter, in a real honest-to-God dress shop. She and Ma had done right well with clothes left behind by careless travelers, or an occasional purchase at the General Store. When she’d protested, he’d slapped her bottom before turning to the woman running the fancy shop.
“Ma’am,” he’d said, “in two hours this woman will be my bride. I’d be much obliged if you’d find her a dress and the fixings. Don’t listen to any complaining. Money don’t matter. We’re only getting married the one time, and I want us to remember it with all the happiness the day deserves.”
“Yes, sir,” the woman replied. “She’s a lovely girl. My job will be an easy one.”
“Don’t I just know it.” Lars’ eyes sparkled like the Fourth of July. “I got me a pretty one, and make no mistake.” He turned to leave but thought better of it. “Leave that hair down if you would. I have a hankering to see it flowing down her back.” He counted off his tasks on his fingers one at a time. “I need a preacher, new clothes, a shave and a bath.” He ran his hand through white blond hair. “I reckon a haircut wouldn’t go amiss.”
“Where are you staying?” the woman asked.
“What’s the best hotel in town?” Lars demanded.
“The Sacramento River Hotel and Restaurant.” The woman nodded approval of her choice. “If you take a room there, they can arrange for your bath and barbering. They’ll send a runner to find the preacher. Folks that stay there are used to having others take care of their business. They keep a boy to run errands.” She paused and held her chin in the palm of her hand. “After the wedding, you can have a meal sent to your room or eat at the restaurant. Then your room will be ready for…” She blushed and sent Ellie a furtive glance. “For later.”
“Hell, yes.” The emotion in his voice flowed over and leaked down every word. “I’ve been waiting for later for quite a spell.”
He’d squeezed her hand, planted a hasty kiss on her lips, cautioned her against causing the saleslady any trouble, and departed.
His parting words were both a promise and a warning, “Two hours, Ellie girl. Be ready.”
His boots thumped down the wooden walk and stopped. The hesitation in his step made her heart skip a beat, but when those same boots retraced their steps her heart hammered.
The door opened enough for Lars to poke his head back into the room. “I like her in green,” he growled. The door clicked shut, and the boots stomped away a second time.
The saleslady waved her hand in front of her face. Ellie didn’t think it was that hot, but she was well acquainted with the heat her soon-to-be husband packed.
“My, oh, my,” the woman sighed. She shook her head as if breaking a trance. “My name is Maggie,” she said. “I live over the shop, so let’s start with a bath.”
The warm water was a luxury so dear it brought tears to her eyes. She sank beneath the surface and emerged to find Maggie with a bar or soap in one hand and a bath brush in the other. Ellie arose from the tub shining from the top of her shampooed hair to the bottom of her feet.
Maggie dried and combed her hair into a sheet of red before dropping a short slip of fabric so sheer she could see her nipples plain as day. The woman slapped her hands away when Ellie tried to cover herself. “Now, we’re getting you ready to be a wife. You hold still. I guarantee your husband will be one happy fella when he gets down to this layer.”
She dropped a dress of emerald green over her head. A row of tiny mother-of-pearl buttons marched straight up her back, and there was a row of lace around the neckline. The dress clung like a second skin in the front while the back swirled into a frothy waterfall cascading to the floor.
Maggie planted the last pin in the veil and joined Ellie at the mirror. “You look beautiful. Why that young man won’t know which way is up when he sees you.” She chuckled. “I rememb
er the day I married my Thomas, God rest his soul. Your fella is right. Your wedding day should be special.” She wiped a tear from her cheek and adjusted the veil one more time.
When the thump of familiar boots echoed outside the door, Ellie turned to greet her groom.
“Lord have mercy, just look at you. Ellie girl, you are prettier than a picture.” Lars pulled the door shut and strode across the room. “You are a vision. Let me look.”
He began a slow circle around his bride and came to a stop when he was behind her.
“I like it, Lars,” Ellie added. “It makes me feel like a lady.”
He waggled his eyebrows at her in the mirror and gave her a lopsided grin. The grin faded as his gaze lifted from the floor length hem to the back of the dress. “Why so many buttons?” Lars demanded.
“They’re pretty is all,” Ellie explained as if to a slightly slow child.
“They’re frustrating,” he responded. “It’s going to take me a right long time to get all those little buttons through the hoops. I know you won’t let me rip it open, but that’s what I’ll want to do.”
Ellie spun to face him, “No, Lars, no, this is the nicest dress I’ve ever owned. You can’t rip it.”
“I won’t. Anyway, it will be like opening the best present I’ve ever had.” Lars pulled her into his arms. “The preacher is waiting at the hotel. We’re getting married in a little parlor there.” He reached into his pocket, retrieved a little roll of bills and handed one to Maggie.
“Does this cover it?” he asked.
“Indeed, it does,” she replied. “Congratulations and best of luck.” She hurried to the door and held it open. Ellie tucked her hand into his elbow.
Once on the street, Ellie hugged Lars’ arm close. “You look mighty fine yourself, Mr. Nielson.” Ellie admired his new white shirt, black string tie and pressed pants. She laughed. “You couldn’t give up your old boots and hat?”
“No, ma’am, I could not. They are as much a part of me as my blond hair and blue eyes.”
“I like them fine,” Ellie confessed. “It’ll be my something old.”
Lars pointed across the street. “There it is. The Sacramento River Hotel and Restaurant. You ready, Ellie girl?”
“Mercy. That hotel is twice as big as Pa’s Pay Dirt Hotel in San Francisco. Wouldn’t Simon have a jealous fit if he saw this?” Ellie’s eyes wandered over columns and balconies and a front door as tall as two men. “Mercy,” she said once more for good measure.
“No more talk of Simon. I hope he’s just a scarecrow in our past. Frightening but harmless. If you didn’t have on that silly bustle, I’d give you a couple good spanks for bringing that name up on our wedding day.” He wiggled bushy, blond eyebrows and winked. “I might feel up to it later.”
“Lars,” Ellie began.
“No more talking. Let’s get hitched.”
He whisked her across the street so fast her feet barely caught ground. They went through the door, across the lobby and entered a small room through white French doors.
A minister dressed all in black and crowned with a fringe of white hair stood in front of a marble fireplace. “That your bride, son?” he asked.
“She is.” Lars pulled her forward.
“What is your name, dear?” Kind brown eyes rested on her face in a blessing.
“Eleanor Elizabeth McBride,” Ellie said.
He tipped his head at a piano in the corner of the room. “Hear that, Mabel? You’re going to play ‘Here Comes McBride’.”
A hefty woman whose bottom filled the piano bench to overflowing let out a good-natured laugh, “Yes, sir. ‘Here Comes McBride’, it is.”
The minister took her gently by the arm and led her back out of the room. “When Mabel begins playing, you walk real slow to your man.” He paused. “Would you like Jim to walk with you? He’s one of the witnesses.”
“No, thank you. I’d like my brother to walk me, but he’s not here. I’ll come on alone,” she said.
“All right. Listen for the music, Miss McBride. That’s the last time you’ll use that name.” He patted her arm and added a squeeze before returning to the parlor.
The piano let loose with a lusty, “Bum, bum, bum, bum, bum, Bum!” Mabel rolled on into the familiar melody, and Ellie couldn’t help but sing along in her head, “Here comes McBride. Here comes McBride.” That little bit of fun calmed her nerves some, and by the time she reached Lars she was grinning ear-to-ear.
She heard, “Dearly Beloved,” and later Lars said a very firm, “I do.” She guessed she’d agreed to the deal because Lars slipped a gold band on her left hand, and, quick as a lightning bug flash on a dark night, the minister told Lars he could kiss his bride.
Now that brought her back to ground. That kiss was a thrill and a promise. She’d always loved their kisses. She’d always wanted what came next. But Lars had been strong and true, and she knew it had been a struggle. Until they were free, they would wait. Well, now they were free, and the wait was over. Done. Finished.
She was about to find out what came next.
And what came after that.
And after that. Lars had promised much sport in their marriage bed, and she was ready to play.
Play and play and play some more.
Chapter 12
Lars withdrew his lips from those of his bride.
“Mine,” he whispered. “All mine.” He wrapped Ellie in a hard hug and stole another kiss.
“Thank you, Reverend.” Lars handed the man in black a folded bill. “Please use that where it will do the most good.”
“Thank you, son. I will.” He slipped the money into his pocket. “Here’s your license. I’ll watch while you sign, and then it’s legal in the eyes of the state and the Lord both.” He dipped a pen into ink and handed it to Ellie. “You sign Eleanor McBride Nielson.”
Ellie’s little pink tongue poked out between her lips as she squinted at the document. The sight of that moist pinkness sent such a surge to his manhood that Lars covered himself with his hat and hoped nobody would notice. The minister gave a knowing little nod when he handed him the pen for his turn, but Lars was past caring. He had waited for this girl for weeks. He had traveled with her. He had slept next to her night after night. And he had waited. Waited until they had a proper bed, until they were out of danger, until starting a baby would be cause for joy not despair. He had a few more surprises for his little bride, but once he had her in their room he planned to keep her there for the entire three nights he’d paid for in advance.
“Mrs. Nielson.” Lars held his elbow out for her hand.
“Mr. Nielson,” she replied and blushed and giggled.
“We have reservations,” he told her as they approached the dining room. “I plan to wine and dine you, Ellie girl. Then I have other plans. Private ones.” He aimed a smile at her bosom and was rewarded with a little squirm.
A woman in a bright red dress and hair piled so high it looked ready to topple any minute greeted them at the entrance to the dining room. “Mr. and Mrs. Nielson, follow me,” she purred.
A table for two sat in front of a large window looking out onto the Sacramento River. The wide water meandered its slow, sluggish way past the building. A raft, a riverboat with a paddle wheel, and half a dozen canoes lay on the other side of the glass, but seemed part of a different world. A cloth white as snow covered the surface of the table. Silver utensils gleamed next to pale china encircled with a single band of gold around the outer edge. A bucket of ice stood dripping and a bottle of champagne was nestled into that icy cold. A white cloth was wrapped around the neck of the bottle as if it might be coming down with a fever. The cork lay on the table.
Lars held his wife’s chair. “Darlin’,” he said as he slid her into place.
The woman removed the champagne from the silver bucket, placed the white cloth beneath the neck of the bottle and poured them each a glass. She wiped away a drop after pouring to prevent an unseemly drip. “Your dinners will be ser
ved shortly,” she said and made a tiny, tiny bow before retreating to the door to greet the next customer.
“Oh, Lars,” Ellie breathed the words on a rush of quiet air. “I’ve never seen anything so fine.” She ran her fingers over the silver and touched the gold band on the plate before returning her hands to her lap.
Lars reached across the table and cupped her cheek in his hand. With his thumb, he wiped away a tear. “This will be sweet memory for the rest of our lives, Ellie girl. We made big promises, sacred ones today. ‘Til death do us part, in sickness and in health.” He paused and raised a quizzical eyebrow. “You promised to obey, Ellie girl, and I aim to hold you to it.”
He held his glass across the table and Ellie met his in the middle. “To us. To a long, happy life. To love. To a passel of red-haired children.” He clinked his glass against hers, and they drank to possibility.
A waiter appeared with roast beef cut so thin it was nearly transparent, potatoes in dill sauce, peas, carrots and bread fresh from the oven. When there was not a morsel left, he cleared the dishes before returning with a little cake.
The woman in the red dress reappeared. Damn, but that hair still towered above her and had not so much as moved an inch. Lars was mighty impressed.
She clinked a spoon against a glass. As the tinkling rang out the room descended into silence. She held her glass high. “To the newlyweds,” she declared.
“To the newlyweds,” echoed across the room.
Lars pulled Ellie’s chair out and helped her to her feet. She was a little tipsy, and he was fine by that, but he didn’t want her passed out. No, that would never do. He removed the glass from her hand, draped am arm around his wife’s shoulders and flashed a smile of white teeth and charm.
Here Comes McBride (Journey's End Book 1) Page 11
