by Kaki Warner
“Let me go first.” Fishing a green bean out of her meager cleavage, she climbed off his lap. “Then you can follow.”
He pushed back the chair and rose. “How about I go first, then you follow? As it should be between a man and his wife.”
She narrowed her eyes. “Is that so?”
“Or we could race.”
“And wake up the entire hotel?”
Devilment danced in his eyes. “Then let’s compromise. I’ll be first in the tub, and you can be first the rest of the night.” He waggled his brows. “How’s that sound?”
Images rushed into her head. Heat flooded her body. It sounded like the kind of compromise she could support. Repeatedly. Maybe even in the tub.
Laughing, she opened the door. “After you, Mr. Benton.”
Epilogue
Lottie got her double wedding. But instead of standing with Ty beside Becky and Juno in a church or before the circuit judge, the four of them said their vows one July morning under the pecan trees by the creek at the newly purchased Benton place.
A barrel from the market, which Mrs. B. dressed up with flowers and a lacy shawl, made a beautiful altar. Ty and Juno and Mr. B. turned lumber discarded after the storm into benches, which they set in rows before the altar with an aisle in between. It wasn’t fancy, but the scent of summer flowers sweetened the air, birdsong added to the music of the creek, a gentle breeze rustled through the leaves of the shady canopy overhead, and the cloudless sky matched Ty Benton’s eyes.
In Lottie’s mind, it was the most beautiful day ever.
Reverend Nathaniel Lindz performed the ceremony. He had accepted Becky’s defection so well it took him less than two weeks to find a new choir director and fiancée—Sugar Maples, lately of the Spotted Dog—a sweet, pretty girl, as primed for evangelical manipulation as he was desperate to provide it. An excellent match, Lottie thought.
Sugar’s musical talents were less excellent. But what her rendition of the “Bridal Chorus” from Wagner’s opera Lohengrin lacked in accuracy, she more than made up for with volume, pounding with bird-scattering enthusiasm on the piano tied in the back of the buckboard that had carried it all the way out from the Spotted Dog.
Becky thought it was the sweetest thing she’d ever heard. Apparently, she was as insensitive to pitch as Sugar was. But Lottie enjoyed it, too.
Mr. Brackett proudly walked both brides down the grassy aisle—Lottie on one arm, Becky on the other. Anson Briggs stood as best man for the two grooms, while Lady Jane Knightly served as bridesmaid to both brides.
Neither Lottie nor Becky would have had it any other way.
Most of the town came to the ceremony, even Lord Findlay, who remained gracious throughout—probably a stretch for an English baron, but Lottie appreciated the effort. He wasn’t really so bad—he just didn’t fit. Bea Davenport, Fred Kearsey, Cook, and several other workers from Lady Jane’s came to celebrate the nuptials, in addition to serving the excellent luncheon prepared by the club’s kitchen staff.
Even Humphries came, and brought with him a boxy camera that he set up on a tripod. Apparently, he was quite the photographer. Mr. Griffin had hired him to take photographs throughout the day—his gift to the brides and grooms. Lottie hoped Humphries could work the focus slide with that squint. She would hate to have everything come out blurry.
Belle, Red, and Henry were there from the Dog, mostly in support of Juno, but also to cheer on Sugar in her musical debut. Their arrival raised eyebrows among the stuffier attendees, but with Ty and Briggs looking on—and Juno’s donation of a crate of whiskey from the saloon—no one openly objected, especially when soon after the ceremony ended, the three of them returned to the Spotted Dog and business as usual.
Two things happened that afternoon that promised weeks of fodder for the gossipers. The first came during the vows when Reverend Lindz turned to Juno and asked, “Do you, Junius Alphonse Darling, take Rebecca Gay Carmichael—”
The rest of his question was lost in an eruption of raucous laughter and mocking catcalls.
Juno’s face turned red with embarrassment, although he should have expected some ribbing since he’d never allowed anyone to know his full name. Lottie could understand why—he was anything but “darling.” Yet she admired the grace and restraint he demonstrated in the face of such teasing.
The second revelation came at the conclusion of the delicious wedding luncheon the club staff set out beneath the trees. Lottie knew it was coming, but that didn’t lessen her sorrow when Lady Jane rose to speak.
“I wish to make an announcement, if I may,” Jane called out.
Expectant faces turned her way. In the months since Jane had arrived in Greenbroke, she had gained many friends, both for her uniqueness, and for her generosity after the storm. She had become a fixture in the town, rather like that special keepsake set on the highest shelf and out of harm’s way, there to enjoy but not to touch. Lottie wondered if anyone else noted how distracted she seemed of late, shining with happiness one minute, then sinking into sadness the next. Findlay must have wondered about it, yet he remained ever attentive. Briggs was more stone-faced than ever, revealing little of the turmoil Lottie knew was tying him in knots inside—the stalwart soldier who had won the battle but lost the war.
After the diners settled, Jane cleared her throat then began. “It is said that Texans are a tough, independent people who don’t easily suffer fools, newcomers, or city slickers. But from the first day I arrived in Greenbroke, you have welcomed me and shown only kindness and support. That has meant more than I can say.”
“Hear, hear,” several voices called. Other listeners raised their cups in acknowledgment. “I love you, Lady Jane,” one drunken cowboy shouted, before the elbows of his friends toppled him from the bench.
“However,” she went on, “I have been called back to England, so I will be leaving in a few days.” Hearing murmured protests from those who hadn’t heard she was leaving, she put on a strained smile. “I am sad to go. And I shall never forget each and every one of you.” Her gaze moved over the faces turned her way, paused on Lottie for a moment, then moved on. “But the good news is that Mr. Briggs will be staying to watch over the club.”
Briggs acknowledged the protests and teasing groans with a thin smile.
“So, until we meet again . . .” Jane raised her glass of lemonade. “God bless you all. I shall love you always.”
More cheers.
Jane sat down, her face tight with emotion . . . until Lottie saw Briggs reach beneath the tablecloth to take her hand in his. The look that passed between them nearly broke her heart. Lottie feared that after Jane and Findlay boarded the train for the first leg of their long journey back to England, she would never see her ladyship again. She wondered how Briggs could bear it.
The gathering lasted until late afternoon when the whiskey ran dry and the sun dipped toward the horizon. Needing to return to Greenbroke while they still had enough daylight to show them the way, folks began to offer their good-byes.
Becky and Juno led the way back to town in a beribboned buggy, dragging strings of shoes and tin cans in their wake. Jane followed with Briggs and Findlay, and falling in behind them, tipsy revelers rode on horseback and in wagons, some still singing the latest bawdy wedding song.
Lottie waved until the last guest crossed the creek and disappeared over the rise. Silence settled over the clearing. With a deep sigh, she slipped an arm around Ty’s waist. “I can’t believe it’s over.”
“Over?” Looping an arm over her shoulders, he smiled down at her. “I’d say it’s just beginning.”
She leaned into him, reveling in the strength of the arm holding her close and the warmth of the body against hers. “Is it real, Ty? Are we truly married?”
“We are. You’re stuck with me now.” Bending down, he brushed his lips against hers, then drew back to study her face. “
You’re crying again.”
“I’m happy.”
“I’m happy, too, but I’m not crying about it.”
“You might yet.”
“Oh?”
Lottie took a deep breath for courage. “What if I told you I still want to bookkeep?”
“Now? You want to talk about this now?” When she didn’t answer, he thought for a moment, then shrugged. “I guess I could live with that.”
“And I want to be full partner.”
“Sure. We can start pulling fence tomorrow. Wear thick gloves.”
“And I can’t cook.”
He reared back. “At all?”
“Grandpa did the cooking at the ranch. But I can open cans.”
“Well, that’s half of it. I guess we can hire out the other half.”
Smiling through grateful tears, she reached up and pulled his head down. “I’m going to love being married to you, Tyree Benton,” she whispered against his lips.
“Then let’s get started, Lottie Benton.” And before she could argue about who should follow whom into the house that was still torn up from all her changes and decorating projects, he scooped her up in his arms and carried her through the doorway into their new home.
Laughing, Lottie kissed her way up his strong neck. Her grand life had finally begun.
Kaki Warner is a RITA Award-winning author of Pieces of Sky and numerous romance novels, including Home By Morning, Where the Horses Run, and Heartbreak Creek. A longtime resident of the Pacific Northwest, she now lives on the eastern slopes of the Cascade Mountains in Washington, but Kaki grew up in the Southwest, and is a proud graduate of the University of Texas. She spends her time gardening, reading, writing, and making lists of stuff for her husband to do while she soaks in the view from the deck of her hilltop cabin. For book excerpts and more information, visit the author online at facebook.com/kakiwarner.
Looking for more?
Visit Penguin.com for more about this author and a complete list of their books.
Discover your next great read!
