Expressly Yours, Samantha (Cotillion Ball Saga Book 7)

by Becky Lower

  His grin grew wider as his mother tapped his arm gently. “Still haven’t lost your sass, have you, young man?”

  “No, Mother, but I have grown up a bit. Samantha and I want to stay in the West and set up a horse farm, similar to what Joseph has done, although not as grand.”

  “As long as you stay close to St. Louis, so I can see all my children when I come to visit, I think I can deal with another of my children leaving home.”

  “We have a lot of things to think about and take into account. Samantha’s parents had a small farm a bit west of here. Maybe we’ll go there.”

  Samantha’s eyes filled with tears at his comment. “Really, Valerian? You’d do that? Allow me to take care of my parents’ graves?”

  “I figure you need at least one more good memory of the place, to erase the bad one inflicted by your uncle.”

  Samantha extricated herself from Charlotte’s grasp and moved around to Valerian’s side. She leaned into him and kissed him, overcome with emotion. “Thank you, Val. You really are a good man.”

  “All thanks to a boy named Sam Hughes.”

  The luggage was loaded onto the wagon, and Valerian’s parents climbed aboard. Samantha and Valerian held hands during the ride to the cabin. Although a lively line of chatter passed between Samantha and his mother on the way out of town, Valerian didn’t hear much of it. His father sat beside him and spoke in a low voice.

  “I’m disappointed, of course, that you won’t be joining me at the bank as your brothers have done. But I always was aware you cared much more for horses than for numbers. What you’ve done is to help build this country, and for that, I’m appreciative. Plus, it seems your Samantha has settled you considerably from the wild boy who refused to come back home after his vacation was over. I’d say you’ve done well.”

  His father clamped his shoulder, and Valerian relaxed. He could still count on his family to be behind him, even if he disappointed them. All he wanted now was to give Samantha that same sense of peace and belonging for the rest of her life.

  • • •

  Samantha was surrounded by love. Somehow, some way, this big happy Fitzpatrick family made room for one more. Little Samantha Hughes, only child of Molly and Hiram Hughes, and niece of Aunt Hilda, a girl who had to run for her life to escape the clutches of the evil Uncle Jack, had a home at last. Charlotte clung to her for the entire first afternoon, as if afraid she’d disappear if the hold on her were relinquished. They spent a wonderful, warm day together at the log home of Ginger and Joseph while the crisp November wind whirled around them outside. Basil Fitzpatrick, his wife Temperance, and their two children joined the celebration. Ginger had also sent a telegram to her sister, Heather and her husband, David, who were stationed at a military post outside of St. Louis, and they were to arrive in time for Thanksgiving, along with their children.

  As darkness descended, Ginger pulled Samantha and Valerian aside. “I’m putting Mother and Papa in the extra bedroom here tonight. So, the only place left is the little hunter’s cabin where Joseph and I lived until our cabin was built. Do you think you can find your way there, Valerian?”

  Samantha caught the knowing glance between Ginger and Valerian, and had no doubt this was a pre-planned move. She didn’t know how, since Ginger and Valerian had no private time together to work things out, but she wasn’t used to large family interaction, either.

  “Sure thing, Ginger. I’ve been there plenty of times before.”

  Samantha and Valerian donned their outerwear and walked through the trees to the small hunter’s cabin. She smelled the fragrant wood smoke before the house came into view. Someone had been here before them and started a fire to heat the inside of the home. It was a lovely little cabin in a clearing, with a porch extending across the front of the house and windows on each side.

  Valerian led the way inside, lighting candles as he went. Samantha stood at the doorway, her eyes darting from the small table to the bed in the corner. Tears clogged her eyes. It had been years since she’d been in a real home where she was safe, warm, and content. The lump in her throat grew along with her tears. She strode over to Valerian and wrapped her arms around his neck.

  “Thank you.” She reached up and kissed him.

  “Well, you’re welcome. But what exactly are you thanking me for?”

  “I didn’t think I’d ever feel safe again in my life or be able to stay, for even one night, in a real home. Aunt Hilda tried, but her house was never a home. I’ve been sleeping in a barn, or in a pantry, for months.”

  Valerian stared into her eyes. “I won’t let anything happen to you, or to our baby, ever. As long as we’re together, you’ll be safe. My mother and father love you already, so you have the support of my entire large family behind you.”

  He leaned down and captured her lips again, steering her toward the bed the whole time. He moved his hands from her waist and began to unbutton her dress.

  “How is it your mother had complete knowledge of my plight, anyway? I only thought you told her I was masquerading as a boy. Not every last detail.”

  Valerian laid her on the top of the bed, and continued to kiss her. As the buttons came undone, he followed the path, kissing her exposed skin.

  “I told you before, I had to tell someone or explode under the enormity of it all. So, I wrote about what you were doing in my letters home. Not only was I able to get it off my chest, but it also provided good material for my sister. I hope you won’t mind being a heroine in a potboiler some day.”

  Samantha smiled as she began to free Valerian of his shirt. “I’d rather be a heroine in your eyes.”

  “Oh, that you are.”

  “Well then, why don’t you show me?”

  In answer, he yanked his shirt off, and then wrapped his hands around her head, leading her mouth to his. Their bare skin met, chilly to the touch, but so hot underneath. Nearly five months had passed since they were last together, and Samantha could tell very little sleep would be happening tonight. Or at least she hoped that would be the outcome.

  As if in answer to her unspoken words, Valerian moved to the end of the bed, removing both her shoes and then his boots. His hand snaked its way up her leg, under her coarse skirt, wrapping around her thigh. She gave herself over to the feeling of having him near at last. Contentment overtook her, and the tears threatened again. She blinked them away. Now was the time for joy, not tears.

  Valerian’s hand moved from her thigh to her core, and his fingers toyed with her bundle of sex. Her sighs became moans as he continued to torment her with his wicked fingers. His other hand undid her skirt and pulled it down. His hands were quickly back, working their magic at her core again. All she had left on her body was her shift, while Valerian was still wearing his trousers. Her hands went to his belt and began to undo it. He brushed her hands away.

  “Tonight, it’s all for your pleasure, Samantha. Let me take care of you. Now and forever.”

  His eyes shone with love, and, for the first time in ages, Samantha let herself go. She had total trust in Valerian, the boy who only wanted to ride horses. Now they would ride into their future together. He lowered his mouth to kiss her expanding belly, cradling their child with his hands as he kissed her skin. Samantha swallowed the lump in her throat.

  His mouth continued its downward progression, until he covered her sensitive spot with his lips. She shuddered as his tongue flicked out and grazed her. Sensation after sensation washed over her as his hands came up and captured her breasts, working the nipples into hard, sensitive peaks. She moved under him, her arms and legs twitching in anticipation. Finally, she reached the pinnacle of excitement and tumbled over the edge. Her breath came in short gasps and her heart beat wildly. She had never been so alive, so excited, so pummeled with wonderful sensations.

  Valerian held her until she came down from the crest of her orgasm. He kissed her softly as her breathing returned to normal.

  Her hands moved back to his belt. “I would say my pleasure h
as been fulfilled. Now, it’s time for you to join me.”

  His eyebrow cocked in her direction as she ran her hand over his stiff manhood, still shielded behind his trousers. “Are you certain it won’t hurt the babe?”

  Samantha laughed softly. “I haven’t had too much experience in these matters, but no, I don’t think it will. Ginger would not have arranged for us to be alone if she thought it would.”

  “Good point. Before I crawl into bed with you for the night, though, I need to put another log on the fire.”

  He rose and added more wood to the stove, then divested himself of the remainder of his clothing. As he climbed under the covers with Samantha, he ran his hand over her belly again.

  “If our child turns out to be a girl, I really want to name her Destiny. It seems appropriate.”

  Samantha smiled up at him, welcoming his weight and warmth. “I thought the same thing just yesterday. Destiny would be perfect, unless it’s a boy.”

  “Then it’s settled. Now kiss me again, Samantha.”

  She wrapped one arm around his neck and drew him close. Tonight would not be long enough for them to make up for the months they’d been apart, but it was a start. They now had the rest of their lives.

  Chapter 30

  Samantha lingered over breakfast the following morning with Valerian’s mother. From the moment they’d sat down, Samantha was aware Charlotte Fitzpatrick had something on her mind. And her firm grasp on Samantha’s hand made her even more aware the topic was going to involve the wedding ceremony. There was no getting around it.

  The last of the dishes were cleared away, and they were the only ones left at the table, but still Charlotte wouldn’t relinquish her hold on Samantha. Accepting the inevitable, Samantha turned in her chair.

  “Is there something you wish to discuss with me, Mrs. Fitzpatrick?”

  “I want to know what kind of ceremony you have in mind, dear, and how we can accomplish it in a matter of days.”

  Samantha shifted in her chair. “I don’t think a formal ceremony is necessary, do you? We need to marry as soon as possible since our child is going to make its appearance long before nine months after the wedding.”

  Charlotte’s hold on Samantha’s hand grew tighter. “This would not be the first child to put in an appearance before the parents had been wed for nine months. And your child is special since it was conceived in love. Don’t ever forget that, and you must remind your baby of his parents’ love whenever you can. I’ve seen the way my son worships you. I never thought my unruly child would become a responsible adult, but you’ve managed to tame him, and for that, I love you, too.”

  Samantha smiled at Charlotte’s words. She had tamed Valerian just as she’d tamed the horses she’d worked with. “Be that as it may, Mrs. Fitzpatrick, I still don’t think we need to stand on tradition. We’ll go into town and find a justice of the peace. A simple ceremony will be fine.”

  “Why don’t we meet somewhere in the middle? I love weddings, especially when it involves one of my children. You can have a justice of the peace preside over the ceremony, but I want to have the wedding here, in Ginger’s lovely home. On Thanksgiving morning, I think. And I want to incorporate some of the Indian traditions. After all, Joseph was the first to recognize you and my son were destined for each other.”

  Tears clouded Samantha’s eyes as she glanced over at Charlotte. “What a lovely idea. And so different from the way I thought my life would be. You’ve been very kind, Mrs. Fitzpatrick.”

  Charlotte ran her hand over Samantha’s hair. “It’s not kindness, my dear. It’s family. You are a part of us now, as is the babe you’re carrying. The only thing you have yet to do is get to know me well enough to call me Mother.”

  Samantha’s breath caught in her throat. “I’d love to. Since my own mother died, I’ve been very much alone.”

  Charlotte wrapped her arms around the young woman. “Never again, child. Never again. Now, what dress shall you wear?”

  “Since I only have two, I’ll wear the one with the fewest stains on it.”

  “I do wish my daughter Jasmine were here. She could create a dress for you in no time. Perhaps Ginger has something more suitable for a wedding. Your feet are about the same size. You could wear the moccasins Joseph made for her wedding.”

  Samantha leaned back in her chair with a grin on her face. Charlotte Fitzpatrick reminded her of her own mother. Once she had a plan in her mind, nothing was going to get in the way to change it. She’d allow Charlotte to plan the wedding ceremony if it would make her happy. All Samantha wanted was for it to happen soon. Her life with Valerian would be her happiness.

  • • •

  The lilting strains of the Indian love flute, played by Etienne’s wife and Temperance’s sister, Prudence, filled the air as Valerian, wrapped in a blue blanket, took his place beside the ring of fire in front of Ginger and Joseph’s home. The drum being pounded by Etienne matched the rhythm of Valerian’s heart. He took a deep breath of wood smoke as it mingled with the chilly air. Surrounding the fire were his parents, Joseph’s parents, Joseph’s brothers and sister, his own sisters and brother, along with their spouses and children, but he only sought only one person. Samantha.

  He spied her finally, also wrapped in a blue blanket as she made her way to his side, being led to him by his own father. The chill in the November air was no match for the roaring fire in the center of the clearing. Valerian’s heart almost leapt from his chest as he gazed upon Samantha’s lovely dark locks, now extending over her shoulders. He stared into her bright brown eyes. It was no wonder her uncle had been obsessed with her. Samantha, once she shook off the disguise of being a boy, was a lovely woman. His woman. He grinned at her.

  Valerian turned his attention back to the ceremony. The justice of the peace seemed cold and uncomfortable with the surroundings. Joseph stood alongside him, acting as the spiritual leader of the ceremony. He blessed their union using the Ojibwa tongue. In unison, Charlotte and George Fitzpatrick came up behind the couple and removed their blue blankets.

  Although Valerian missed the warmth the extra layer provided, he realized the significance of the removal. Both he and Samantha were shedding their old lives, their loneliness, their sorrows, and would now present a united front to the world. He turned to Samantha, taking in her white dress and beautiful hand-tooled white moccasins. She had never been more beautiful. He had on black trousers and a ribbon shirt that Joseph had loaned him. He didn’t quite fill out the shirt as well as Joseph, but he had gotten bigger in the past months. He was strong enough now to accept the responsibility of a wife and child. Moccasins also adorned his feet.

  The flute and drum went quiet, and the justice of the peace performed his simple task of uniting them. Valerian gently held Samantha’s hands in his and placed a gold band on her finger to claim their union. Together, they recited the words of the Ojibwa wedding prayer they had both memorized the night before. But the only words that stuck in Valerian’s mind were the final ones. “We are two bodies, but there is one life before us and one home.”

  When they first met each other, Valerian and Samantha were two lost souls, each in their own way. Now, together, they would head back to the homestead that had belonged to Samantha’s parents. They would work to bring the home back to life, to shore up the crumbling walls, to once again have a clearing instead of weeds. Together there, they’d care for her parents’ graves and raise their children. As his mother and father came forward and wrapped a new, white blanket around the pair, Valerian embraced his wife and found his tears matched Samantha’s. This was truly inendaagozi.

  Author’s Note

  One of the most heralded chapters in American history was the creation of the Pony Express. The route for the riders was 1,966 miles long and stretched from St. Joseph, MO to San Francisco, CA. Its primary purpose was to open a northern route for correspondence to flow back and forth from the nation’s capital to the rich land known as California. In the event of a war, t
he North wanted California to side with it.

  William Russell was the mastermind of the Pony Express. His belief that a central route could be established and carry the mail across the country in ten days led to the government taking a chance on him. In a matter of sixty-seven short days, he cobbled together a route running through Kansas, Nebraska, Colorado, Wyoming, Utah, Nevada, and California, consisting of seven different divisions. Each division employed seventy to eighty scrappy, tough, and small riders who were born to the saddle, were familiar with the countryside, and had nerves of steel. They would gallop back and forth between relay stations set up at regular intervals, where a change of horses would be accomplished. Home stations were about eighty miles apart and signaled a change of rider as well as a change of horse. With remarkable speed, the route was laid out, relay stations constructed out of whatever material was available when a house or an inn was not already available, and four hundred horses were spread out over the route. The first mail delivery run, heralded by parades and speeches on both ends of the country, took place April 3, 1860. Most of the horses used were wild mustangs, as tough as the territory they’d be crossing.

  The Pony Express trail followed the stagecoach route and the trails used by the pioneer wagon trains as they moved emigrants across the country. It was a common occurrence for the riders of the stagecoach or wagon trains to applaud the Pony Express riders as they galloped past. Everyone was well aware they were witnesses to history.

  Telegraph lines were being set up along this route as well, and as quickly as it came into being, the Pony Express dissolved in October 1861, when the final leg of telegraph lines was installed. There was now a more efficient method to keep California in touch with the East Coast, and after only eighteen months in existence, the Pony Express became a romantic memory in American lore.

  More from This Author

  (From The Duplicitous Debutante by Becky Lower)