He chuckled. Out of the mouths of babes. He couldn’t tell her that kissing is how this all got started in the first place. Instead, he assured her, “Loreli and I will be smiling again before you know it.”
“Good. I like it when you smile and she smiles back.”
“You do?”
“Yes, Uncle Jake. You didn’t smile a lot before she came.”
He shook his head in response to this wise eight-year-old. “Are you enjoying having Loreli here with us?”
“Oh, yes, very much. Are you?”
He didn’t lie. “Yes, I am.”
“I hope you can’t find us another mama, and she has to stay forever.”
Jake didn’t respond to that. “Well, I’m going out to the barn and put Fox in for the evening.”
“Okay, Uncle Jake. Rabbit and I’ll wait for Loreli and Be to get back.”
“I’ll come wait with you soon as I’m done with Fox.”
She nodded and hugged Rabbit.
That evening, Jake took the bed and frame upstairs into Loreli’s room and put it together. Last night the mattress had rested on the floor, but now it lay atop her big bed. The fancy purple quilt made it look very inviting, and Jake had to stop himself from wondering how it might feel to sleep in the bed with her by his side. There were a couple of chairs, a writing desk by the window, and one of the chifforobes stood gleaming against a wall. Atop it were all of her lotions, creams, and perfumes. His gaze took in the curtain she’d hung over the window, and the soft light given off by the lamps. He realized she’d transformed the place from the dark and joyless space his father had known into a woman’s boudoir. There wasn’t anything left of the old room to remind him of his father but everything to remind Jake of the sensual new owner.
Loreli watched him scan around. “Do you like it?”
He met her eyes. “It looks real fine, Loreli.”
“Loreli said we can help her paint in here later this summer,” Bebe said.
Jake smiled.
“Loreli said we can come up and visit her anytime,” Dede added.
Jake wondered if he’d be extended the same courtesy. “You and the ladies couldn’t figure out how to get that headboard in the house either?”
This was the closest they’d been to each other in the last few days, and both could feel the heat arching between them in spite of the walls they’d been attempting to erect. Jake wanted to touch her cheek to see if it was as soft as it had been the last time he’d caressed it, and Loreli longed to be enfolded within his strong, tender embrace.
In the end, though, they all trooped back downstairs, leaving the moment behind.
The day of the wedding dawned bright and full of promise. The brides began arriving around ten that morning, bringing with them food, decorations, tableware, china, and lots of excitement. Wilma Deets had been a hairdresser before coming to Kansas to be a bride, and she’d volunteered to turn her talents on the twins. While she took the girls to the back porch to get started, the rest of the day’s preparations began in earnest.
Loreli was up in her boudoir, sequestered until the wedding. She’d never liked sitting around, but Fanny had been assigned to keep her company, and to keep Loreli away from the goings on downstairs, so passing the time wasn’t as bad as it could have been.
Loreli asked Fanny, “How’s your husband?”
“I miss him so. He writes, though. I’ve gotten letters nearly everyday.”
“He’s a Pullman porter, right?” Loreli confirmed.
“Yes, but from what he’s written in his letters, it may not be for much longer.”
“Why, is he unhappy working for Mr. Pullman?”
“Extremely. Some of the working conditions aren’t to his liking. For example, did you know that the porters have to smile, or risk being replaced?”
“No.”
“Some of the passengers know this, however, and taunt the men just to see if the porters will continue to smile. My husband has been cuffed and kicked by folks intent upon seeing how far they can go before he loses his temper, but he can’t lose his temper, so he takes the abuse without a word. Some give him a nice tip for being forced to endure their mean-spirited shenanigans—as if that makes it all better.”
“Have the porters complained?”
“Oh, of course, but nothing is done about it. My husband and others want to form a union but know they’ll be dismissed if they do.”
They talked some more about Fanny’s Traveling Man, as the Pullman porters were often known, then other things. For Loreli the time seemed to be crawling by.
Downstairs, Jake, tired of being told that he couldn’t see Loreli until the wedding, and being bossed around by women he barely knew, sought refuge in his room. They fed him lunch, however, which raised their positions in his eyes, but they wouldn’t let him walk around lest he see Loreli on her way to her bath or having her hair done, or lord knew what else. He wanted to shout that he’d already seen quite a bit of his bride to be, but didn’t. It wouldn’t help. He just prayed Art would show up soon so he could have someone to commiserate with who gave a damn.
By four the guests began arriving. Loreli couldn’t verify this, however, because she was still confined to her room. She was dressed at least, and in an hour, she’d be Mrs. Jake Reed. Even though the marriage wouldn’t be a permanent one, she had butterflies in her stomach just the same.
When Jake was finally allowed out of his room, he and Art Gibson, his best man, were led out to the back of the house where all the guests were waiting. The black-vested suit Jake was wearing was the only one he owned. It was clean, however, as was the white shirt he had on beneath. In spite of his disagreements with his late father, Jake paid tribute to his memory by wearing his father’s cufflinks; and Art would be reading from the Bible left behind by Jake’s mother, the only possession of hers Jake had.
The women had transformed the backyard into an outdoor chapel, complete with a flowered bower for the bride and groom to stand beneath. Beside it stood Sheriff Walter Mack. Where the women had gotten all the chairs was a mystery to Jake, as was where all the people in the chairs had come from. This had been billed as a small affair, but in looking around, he saw half the town had chosen to attend whether they’d been invited or not. Even Rebecca was in attendance. She was seated beside Millie Tate, and both were dressed in mourning black. Jake turned away. The piano was near the bower, positioned on a large square of plywood. Jake couldn’t but wonder how the brides had managed to get it outside. Loreli had bragged about how inventive the women had become as a result of the wagon train. After seeing all that they’d accomplished here today, Jake agreed that they were remarkable indeed.
At five o’clock sharp, a young woman took her seat at the piano and began to play. It was plain that she’d been classically trained; the notes of the sonata rose on the air with a grace and beauty small-town folks rarely get to hear. Everyone listened raptly as the woman, another one of the brides, played on.
Then she stopped and began the sweet familiar notes of “Amazing Grace.” In response, the twins came out of the back door. Side by side, they stepped down the stairs and began a slow walk to the bower. Their pretty dresses and proud faces earned smiles from the guests and touched a cord inside Jake that made his eyes sting.
When they reached him, Jake leaned down and gave them each a kiss on the forehead. “You both look mighty fine.”
“Mighty fine,” Art echoed.
The girls grinned and turned to the porch to await Loreli’s arrival.
She appeared moments later wearing a blue gown so beautiful that all the guests stared in awe. Low cut and sleek, it had a pleated underskirt and an overskirt that swept across and softly draped at the side. The sleeves were three-quarter length and ended in two small bows. Her matching three-quarter-length gloves fit smoothly beneath the gown’s sleeves. The rich silk dress rustled as she walked down the stairs. With a bouquet of summer flowers in her hands, Loreli made her way past the assembled gues
ts and up to the bower, where Jake and the others waited.
Loreli knew this was pretend but it didn’t feel that way; it felt real. Her heart was beating so fast, and she never remembered being this nervous before, ever. The faces of the guests were little more than blurs. The only person she could see clearly was Jake.
When she reached his side, she smiled down at the twins and then over at Art. Jake was instructed by the sheriff to take Loreli’s hand, and once he did, the reading of the words began. As he came to the part in the ceremony where anyone with a beef against the wedding was allowed to stand and state their displeasure, Loreli waited for him to continue. Usually the pause generated nothing more than a few titters from the guests. Not today.
Today someone actually got up and said, “Loreli, what the hell are you doing?”
The familiar voice made her spin with dismay. Filled with shock, she stared into the smiling green eyes of the Black Irishman, Trevor Church! What is he doing here? Had she been a heroine in a dime novel, Loreli Winters would have fainted, right then and there.
Chapter 14
“What are you doing here?” Loreli snapped at Trevor.
The guests were buzzing like a beehive hit by a stick, and it didn’t take much imagination to know gossip surrounding this event would occupy folks for weeks. As if he were unaware of the drama he was creating, the smiling Trevor responded by saying, “You look lovely, lass.”
“Save the blarney, Trev, and answer me,” she gritted harshly, suddenly remembering just how angry she’d been at him in Mexico City three years ago.
“Just came to see what possible reason you could have for marrying a hog farmer?”
Loreli didn’t dare look at Jake. She could feel the tightness in his body. She wanted to shoot Trevor for embarrassing Jake this way.
Trevor was one of the handsomest men any of the ladies in attendance had ever seen. As he made his way from the back, they took in his smooth golden skin, his black curly hair, and his clover green eyes. His brown vested suit fit his trim muscular body well. He was tall too, his height rivaling Jake’s. Loreli didn’t care about any of that; she just wanted an explanation.
Loreli finally looked into Jake’s face. His jaw was tight and throbbing, his eyes on Trevor. When Jake’s gaze left Trevor and slid to Loreli, the coldness she saw chilled her like a November wind.
“I’ve no idea what he wants,” she told him truly.
“No?” Jake’s voice was as cold as his stare. “You didn’t wire him to come and rescue you from the hog farmer?”
Not liking his sarcasm, she answered truthfully. “No.”
By now, Trevor had joined the wedding party under the bower. Instead of responding to Loreli’s demand for an explanation, he turned a winning smile on the twins, and said, “My, what lovely young ladies. Trevor Church. At your service.” He bowed elaborately before the girls.
They giggled.
“Trevor!” Loreli snarled.
He straightened. Eyeing Jake contemptuously, the Irishman made a show of sniffing the air before he drawled, “Is that a hog I smell, or the groom?”
The guests gasped.
Jake smiled with eyes void of amusement. The fist he exploded in Trevor’s face was void of amusement, too, and sent the Irishman sprawling. Blood poured from his lordly nose. On the ground now, Trevor looked at the blood staining his fingers. A brittle light of amusement filled his face. “So, the hog farmer has spunk.” Wiping at his nose, Trevor slowly rose to his feet. His eyes were focused cobra-like on Jake. “You want to fight for her?” he asked.
“Nope, she’s already mine. I just want to fight you.”
Loreli couldn’t believe her ears. “This is supposed to be a wedding, not a prize fight!” she told them angrily.
Paying her no mind, they began circling each other. Guests started leaving their chairs, jockeying for a good view.
“Did you hear me?” Loreli snapped.
Apparently not. In fact, Art Gibson came up behind her, and after lifting her from her feet, carried her kicking and yelling away from the combatants. As he set her down, the males in attendance hooted and howled. “Stay here,” Art commanded.
Loreli looked at him and uttered plainly, “I’m not your wife, so get the hell out of my way.”
Art was so flabbergasted he did just that, but by the time Loreli stormed back to the bower, it was too late; the fight was on.
The twins along with the other children and the rest of the female guests, including Denise Gibson and Susan Peterson, took refuge on the porch. The men on the other hand were ringing the action like spectators at a cock fight, urging Jake on, and cheering as each punch fell. For Loreli, getting through the male throng wasn’t easy, but after planting some well-placed elbows and kicking some shins, a path was opened. Now, able to see, she stared wide-eyed at the sight of the two men dancing around like boxers. Jake had blood pouring from a spot over his eye, and Trevor’s lips were fat and split. Before she could yell at them, Trevor launched himself at Jake and they began wrestling like Greeks, toppling the bower and knocking over the tables holding the food and plates. The male crowd roared like Romans.
Loreli spotted the sheriff standing beside Brass Barber and Matt Peterson. Hoping they could stop the fight, she pushed and shoved men aside in an effort to reach them.
“Make them stop!” she shouted at the sheriff.
The sheriff, whose attention was on the battle, yelled back over the noisy crowd, “I can’t, Miss Loreli.”
“Why not?”
“It’s a matter of honor.”
“But you’re a peace officer!”
“But he’s a man first,” Brass yelled over another loud roar.
“Your friend insulted Jake and he has to pay,” Matt Peterson added.
Loreli had never heard anything so harebrained in all her life, but realizing they’d be no help, she frantically looked around for someone or some way to put an end to this madness. That’s when she spotted Elvira tied up by the corral. Forcing her way out of the crowd again, Loreli hurried over to the goat. As she approached, Elvira eyed her malevolently, but Loreli snapped, “Bite me and I swear I’ll turn you into jerky!”
The goat seemed to take the threat seriously and stood patiently while Loreli undid the rope. Loreli then dragged the goat by the scruff of the neck over to the circle of cheering spectators. Smiling smugly, she slapped the goat sharply across its rump and turned her loose all in one motion. “Get ’em, Elvira!”
Elvira charged into the crowd.
All hell broke loose. Elvira Goat-Dog began butting and biting whatever she came in contact with: buttocks, thighs, flailing arms. Men screamed like little children in their efforts to escape the horned, black-and-white terror. Those men Elvira couldn’t bite right off, she chased; those she chased and caught up to, she bit. It took the goat less than two minutes to send the men running for their lives, leaving only the two combatants on the scene.
By now, Jake and Trevor were so tired, they could barely raise their hands to throw the next fist. So wild and off target were their blows, they looked as if they had been magically slowed down. Their faces were battered and bruised, and their once clean clothes sported blood, grass, and dirt. Loreli was furious with the both of them. This was supposed to be her wedding, dammit, and they’d ruined it. Yes, it was a wedding for a temporary marriage, but it was probably the only one she’d ever have. And they’d ruined it!
Loreli looked to the porch, where the women stood laughing uproariously at Elvira’s routing of the men. “Beatrice, go get Elvira and tie her up. If she tries to bite you, tell her you’ll turn her into jerky. That seems to work.”
“Yes, Loreli.”
Bebe took off to retrieve the goat now chasing poor Rabbit around the yard. Hot on the goat’s tail was Pal.
Trevor and Jake could fight no more. They were both lying on the ground—their swollen eyes focused on the heavens, their breathing forced and harsh.
“You throw a hell of a pun
ch, for a hog farmer,” Trevor said to Jake.
“You’re not so bad yourself, for a foreigner,” Jake replied.
Loreli wanted to throttle them both. After all the chaos and gossip they’d caused, they were now going to be friends? Men!
Jake turned his head, and upon seeing Loreli standing over him, her eyes flashing righteously, he said around his swollen jaw, “Guess we have to get married some other time.”
“If I had a gun,” she told him coldly, “I’d shoot you both!”
That said, she turned and left.
As they watched her angry march to the porch, Jake said to Trevor, “I think she’s mad.”
“I think so too,” Trevor replied.
Then both men began to laugh, even though it hurt.
Later, a knock sounded on Loreli’s door. She’d locked herself in over an hour ago. Although she was still too angry to want company, she called. “Who is it?”
Bebe’s voice came through the door, “It’s us, Loreli.”
Loreli walked down the staircase and threw back the bolt on the door. Their concerned twin faces deflated her anger and Loreli was instantly contrite. She had no idea how the debacle had affected them, and she’d been so wrapped up in her own self-pity, she’d failed to consider their needs.
“Are you all right, Loreli?” Dede asked.
“No, but seeing you two makes me feel better, so come on in.”
As they followed her back up the steps to her room, she asked, “Are you two okay?”
“Yes, but Mr. Barber says he’s going to have Elvira arrested for biting him,” Bebe answered.
“Mr. Barber deserved whatever he got. I’m sorry my friend ruined our wedding.”
“We can have another one,” Dede said.
Bebe added, “Miss Zora and the other ladies sent everybody home. She said she’d see you in a few days.”
“Thanks, girls.”
Dede asked, “Can we change clothes now, Loreli? Our dresses are pretty, but I’m hot.”
She chuckled. “Sure, pumpkin. Just make sure you two hang them up.”
The girls nodded their understanding, then gave Loreli a hug.
A Chance at Love Page 24
