Twice Blessed

by Jo Ann Ferguson

  “Is that so?”

  “I want you to plead not with your voice, but with your body.”

  When his fingers stroked her cheek, she gazed up into his ebony eyes, which revealed the desires she had not been able to silence within her. His lips grazed hers as lightly as he had caressed her face, but she was sure he had decorated her skin with liquid fire.

  “Emma!” Sean’s voice was insistent. He opened the kitchen door and peeked in. Grinning, he said, “You should leave the lovey-dovey to the bride and groom.”

  Noah kept his arm around Emma as he turned and said, “I didn’t realize you were such an expert on courting, Sean.”

  “I know all about it.” His thin chest puffed out in pride. “I plan to kiss Jenny today.” His eyes widened as he realized what he had said. “I mean …”

  “You might want to save the kissing for another day,” Emma said as she handed him a dish towel and motioned for him to pick up a tray of rolls. “Sometimes it is better to have such a special event be on a day that is special only for you. Why share it with this wedding?”

  “Do you think I should wait until another day?”

  “I think you’ll be happier if you do.”

  As Sean nodded and went back out, balancing the tray as if he were carrying dynamite, Noah chuckled. He started to speak, but Emma held up her hand.

  The front door closed, and she said, “All right. He won’t hear you now.”

  “You have a real skill with kids.”

  “I’m learning as I go.” She laughed. “Or maybe I’m thinking of how my mother said such things to me and my brother and sister.”

  “Brother and sister? Mother? You’ve never mentioned them before.”

  Emma wanted to curse her own carelessness. No one else, other than Noah Sawyer, had lured her into revealing what should stay hidden. She pasted on a smile and asked, “You didn’t think I was hatched, did you?”

  “Do they live around here?”

  “No.” She lifted her apron over her head and placed it on its peg by the door.

  “That’s too bad.”

  “I do miss them.” She reached into the warming box for the last tray.

  “No, I meant it was too bad for me.”

  “For you?”

  He picked up two of the trays and grinned. “Think about all the tales I might hear about you when you were a little girl.”

  “Think about it all you want.” She was able to smile back as she picked up the third tray and opened the door to the parlor.

  “I’d rather think about you as a woman.” He edged through the door, brushing up against her as he moved slowly past. He turned at an awkward angle and kissed her.

  She reached out to balance the tray in his left hand. “Think of me as an angry woman if you send my cooking all over the floor.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” He gave her a wink before she walked past him to open the door to the porch.

  Emma was not sure whether to be disappointed or relieved when he did not press up against her when he stepped out onto the porch. She was both, but she was glad he was being sensible in public. As they walked across the green, she introduced him to people who had not been able to attend the barn raising.

  Noah set the trays on the table and looked around. “Where’s Samuel Jennings? I thought he would be here today.”

  “He doesn’t like weddings,” Alice said as she stirred up the mashed potatoes she had prepared.

  “What makes you say that?”

  “He never comes to any. He always has an excuse to avoid them.” She hurried away.

  “Don’t listen to her, Noah.” Emma chuckled. “Alice once was sweet on him, and she hasn’t gotten over her irritation that he expressed no interest in marrying her.”

  “But he isn’t here.”

  “Maybe one of the children isn’t feeling well.” She shook her head. “Three at once is quite a burden for a man all by himself.”

  “One has been enough to keep me busy.”

  Emma did not have time to reply as shouts were called to get something to drink so the bride and groom could be toasted before the food was served. Someone handed her a mug of cider, and she raised it as shouts of congratulations rang through the afternoon. When Noah put his arm around her shoulders, she leaned her head against his shoulder and wished the joy of this afternoon could continue forever.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  That time when she stood next to Noah during the toast was the last quiet moment Emma had with him that afternoon. As she watched Sean fill his plate, eagerly wanting to sample every new dish, she smiled at Gladys, who was trying to persuade Belinda that no one must touch the three-tiered wedding cake until the newlyweds had cut and eaten the first pieces. Emma led a parade of Sean, Belinda, and Gladys—who picked up the food falling off Belinda’s plate—to find a place to sit on one of the blankets that had been spread across the grass for the women and children.

  Looking across the green, Emma saw Noah talking with the other men. They were laughing and refilling their mugs with beer or with whatever was in the bottles that were being passed around. If she had not known better, she would have guessed he had been in Haven for years and years. The barn raising had allowed him to get to know the people of Haven and for them to know him. His hard work had gained their respect.

  He turned, and she was caught by his gaze, even from across the green. When he smiled, she did, too. There was some invisible thread that connected them, and she did not want to let it unravel. Instead she wanted to wrap it around her like his arms.

  Emma was aware of that link even when the children finished second helpings and ran off to play while the women began to talk about all the news from within the village and beyond. When the wedding cake was cut and served, with the youngest children vying for the pieces with the most icing, she sensed Noah watching her.

  And why shouldn’t he be? She was watching him. His easy good humor as he enjoyed a joke with the men, his smooth, graceful motions when he tossed horseshoes, the respect the other men offered him when the conversation turned to politics and the upcoming elections in the fall … she took note of all that and more. She wanted to discover every expression he wore and every movement he made so she could remember them when she was sitting alone in the evening after Sean had gone to sleep.

  As the sun set, turning the river at the bottom of the hill a brilliant red, the guests returned to the tables to finish off the last of the food. Vulgar comments to the bride and groom warned her that the final event of the wedding, the shivaree, would soon be starting. She wanted Sean in the house before that rowdy, bawdy fun began. Other women were collecting their children, too, and taking them back to the wagons or to their homes in village.

  “It’s still early,” Sean complained when Emma called to him to follow her back to the house.

  When he yawned, she laughed. “All this sunshine and the good food have worn you out.”

  “Do you have weddings often in Haven?” he asked as she put her arm around his shoulders while they walked toward the house.

  “Usually a couple of times a year.”

  “Only twice a year?” He frowned, then brightened. “Why don’t you and Noah get hitched? He has been honeyfuggling you.”

  “Honeyfuggling?”

  “Billing and cooing with you and kissing you and—”

  She smiled. “I know what honeyfuggle means. I’m just surprised you do. That’s not a New York City type of word. It’s more of an Indiana word.”

  “I’ve heard it about town.”

  Although she wanted to ask what else he had heard, she did not ask, for her name was shouted. She turned and saw Reverend Faulkner waving madly to her.

  “Wait here,” she told Sean. “I shouldn’t be long.”

  She went back to the center of the green where the minister was motioning to her to hurry. She wondered why he had such a head of steam up at the end of the day. Her steps slowed when she saw the unmarried women gathering near the bride. />
  “Reverend Faulkner,” she began, “I need to take Sean back to the house before—”

  “Not before the bouquet is tossed, Emma.”

  “That’s for the young girls.”

  “It’s for all the young ladies who have never been married.”

  Emma sighed. She usually had managed to be elsewhere when the bouquet was tossed. If she spoke the truth that she was no longer eligible for this silly ritual, she would ruin her life here in Haven. She had worked too hard to rebuild a life for herself here to let it get undermined simply because she hated this tradition.

  She let the minister herd her to where a half dozen other women were waiting. Two of them could not be much more than fifteen, and they were giggling excitedly together as they whispered about which boy they would like to wed if they were lucky enough to catch the bouquet. Exchanging a glance with Alice, who looked no more pleased than Emma to be taking part in this, Emma stepped behind the young girls. Two of the bride’s sisters came to stand with them.

  “All set?” called the newest Mrs. Smith as she looked back over her shoulder.

  “Go ahead!” cried one of the young girls.

  “Throw it here, Sally!” shouted the other.

  The bouquet soared into the twilight sky. The girls leaped forward. As they bumped into one another, Emma reached out to keep the smaller one from falling to the ground and ruining their pretty dresses. The bouquet struck the girl on the shoulder and dropped into Emma’s hands.

  “Oh, no!” she moaned.

  “I’m glad it’s you and not me,” Alice said with a chuckle as cheers resounded around them.

  “How about another try?” Emma suggested. “I don’t think it bouncing off someone counts.”

  Alice wagged a finger at her. “You aren’t going to escape that easily.”

  As if everyone had heard the teacher’s hushed words, Emma was surrounded by the female guests, who congratulated her on catching the bouquet. Her face grew warm when she realized that the men were making jokes at Noah’s expense.

  Sean tugged on her arm, and she was grateful for the excuse to take him back to the house. He frowned at her as they reached the front steps.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked when she went into the house and lit a lamp.

  “You said you wouldn’t embarrass me.” His nose wrinkled as he pointed at the bouquet. “And look what you did!”

  “I didn’t want to catch it. I was trying to catch Andrea Stewart before she could fall on her face.”

  “Just please don’t do it again. It was embarrassing to have everyone talking about you getting married.”

  “Weren’t you the one who just a few minutes ago was trying to persuade me to propose to Noah?”

  “I was joking.” He did not look at her.

  “So were they.”

  He shook his head. “I’m not so sure. We’re a family now, aren’t we, Emma?”

  “Yes, we are,” she answered slowly, astounded where this conversation was headed. “If you want to be.”

  “I do want to be a family.” A momentary grin brightened his face. “I have never had one. Except for my sister, Maeve.”

  Drawing him down to sit on the lowest step, she sat next to him. “Sean, I want us to be a family, too. When Maeve comes to Haven, she can be part of our family as well. You want that, don’t you?”

  “You know I do!”

  She put her arm around his thin shoulders again. “And I want that, too. Families are made by welcoming other people into them, people we don’t even know. Like babies and like you.”

  “And like a husband?”

  “Maybe … someday.”

  He pondered that for a moment, then said, “I like Noah.”

  “I know.”

  “And you do, too.”

  “Yes.” She smiled.

  “So if you have to get married, I suppose he’d be a good choice.”

  She mussed his hair. “I don’t need you matchmaking, too.” When he giggled, she gave him a hug and stood. “I need to put these flowers in some water before they’re completely wilted.”

  “If you get married, you won’t have to try to catch the bride’s flowers again, will you?”

  “No, I won’t have to do that again.”

  Again he thought for a few seconds. Standing, he said, “Then maybe you should get married so you don’t embarrass me again.”

  She hugged him. “You can be sure I will try not to embarrass you ever again.”

  “So you’re going to marry Noah?”

  “I didn’t say that.”

  He laughed again.

  Patting his bottom, she said, “Now off to bed with you. Gladys should be bringing Belinda over here before the shivaree starts.”

  “What’s a shivaree?” His eyes lit up. “There’s more fun?”

  “Not for the children. The adults are going to act silly one more time before they go home. It gets loud, so try to get to sleep before they start. That way, you can get a good night’s sleep and be ready for the ball game I know you’re planning to play tomorrow.”

  Rushing up the stairs, Sean careened around the corner and into his room.

  Emma poured water from the bucket into a wide bowl and put the flowers in it. In the morning, she would untie the bouquet and find a vase that would hold the blossoms.

  Shouts came from outside, and she went out to the porch. Torches had been lit, looking like giant fireflies on the green. When she heard the song that was being sung in drunken voices, she sat on the top step. The procession would be passing right in front of her. She would wait here until they reached her house.

  When Gladys appeared out of the darkness carrying Belinda, who was already asleep, Emma smiled. “You can put Belinda in my bed, if you’d like.”

  “You don’t have to stay here. Go ahead and have some fun. I’m too old for all this mischief.” She chuckled. “I think I’ll sit on the sofa and rest until it’s time to go back to the farm.”

  Emma stood and opened the door for Gladys. “Make yourself a cup of tea, if you’d like.”

  Closing the door again, Emma went back to sit at the top of the steps. The torches were lurching toward the house. Shouts resonated through the thickening darkness.

  Torches … shouts …

  She gripped the edge of the step as the voices and the lighted brands tossed her back into the morass of her memories. There had been torches coming toward the house in Kansas, and she had heard the angry, drunken shouts through the walls. Those torches and the lynch mob had distracted the deputy guarding her long enough for her to slip out of the house and bolt away into the darkness. If they had gotten into the house while she was still there, they would not have been stopped from hanging her at the same gallows where Miles had been executed. They had considered him a criminal, but she had been seen as betraying everyone in town in order to get rich.

  “Emma?”

  A scream escaped from her lips before she could halt it. She clamped her hands over her mouth as she looked up at Noah, who was regarding her with astonishment.

  “Are you all right?” he asked.

  “You startled me.”

  “I thought you saw me coming up the walk. You were looking right at me.”

  She forced a smile. “The shivaree was making me think about other nights, and I was lost in my memories.”

  “May I?” He gestured toward the steps.

  “Of course.”

  He sat next to her. He was as silent as she was while they watched the bride and groom being escorted past with catcalls and ribald jests. She thought of telling him that he did not have to remain here with her, but did not break the silence. As the parade continued out of town in the direction of the house Isaac Smith had been building since he asked Sally to be his wife, Noah stood and held out his hand.

  “Do you want to join them?” she asked.

  “No, but I thought I might see if there’s some more beer in that last keg.”

  Emma laughed. “By th
e sounds of the guests, I’d doubt it.”

  “You may be right.” He continued to hold out his hand to her. “Let’s go and see how the river is faring.”

  “At this hour?”

  “Why not? We watched it far later than this the night the creek rose.”

  Again she laughed. “We had a good reason then.”

  “Don’t you think I might have a good reason tonight?”

  She put her hand in his and let him bring her to her feet. There was an odd intensity in his voice, and she guessed he wanted to speak to her about something important when no other ears could listen. A throb of anticipation rippled through her. Maybe it was no more than he had found a place where they could be alone and rediscover rapture. As she imagined lying with him in a green bower, she had to fight to keep her feet from running.

  The river’s current had slowed to its normal spring speed, and Emma could see a few branches bouncing on the water. The moon was new, so only starlight glimmered in the river. Walking down the hill to the narrow shore that was edged with trees and wildflowers that had begun to bloom, she smiled when Noah swung their hands between them. She looked back up the hill and saw the town’s buildings blocking out a portion of the sky. A few windows were lit with lamps, but most were dark. In the distance, she heard a roar of laughter, but here they could have been the only living beings in the world.

  “Do you ever go across the river to Kentucky?” Noah asked without preamble.

  “I have once or twice. The closest bridge to span the Ohio is nearly a day’s ride south and west of here.”

  “A single strand of water keeps Indiana and Kentucky so separated. Sometimes, it’s the simplest things that keep places and people apart.”

  She was uncertain how to answer, because she had no idea why he had asked her to come here to speak of this.

  “But traditions keep us together, don’t they?” he asked with a chuckle. “Weddings and graduations and funerals and births and all the other rituals of our lives. Traditions are important, you know.”

  “I know.”

  “We really shouldn’t go against them,” he said as they continued to walk through the soft darkness.

  “Really?” She smiled up at him.