by Arlene James
Levering herself up onto her elbows, she threaded her fingers into the hair at his temples and gazed down into his eyes, her love shining brightly. "Make babies with me, Jesse."
Smiling, he rolled her beneath him, pressing the rigid evidence of his willingness against her. "We may already have," he said softly. "We didn't use any birth control before, you know."
"All the more reason for a quick wedding," she replied, grinning.
"True," he agreed, adding blandly, "and besides, you're not
getting any younger."
For a moment she looked stunned, but then she put her head back and laughed until they were both shaking. Amusement gradually gave way to gasps of passion as their bodies melded and settled into complementary positions. Drawing up her knees and hugging his flanks, she looked up into his eyes.
"When did you decide?"
"About us?"
She nodded.
"Last night, I suppose, or maybe today. I don't know as you can call it a decision, really, more a realization."
"That we belong together," she said.
A slow smile curved his lips. "That whether I pushed you away or you cut a major artery slicing veggies, losing you is losing you—and I can't do it"
She wrapped her legs around him, whispering, "I knew you were the one."
"The only one," he vowed.
Reacting back, he flipped the blanket over them, and it was soon toasty warm there in that moaning, gently writhing cocoon.
249
Epilogue
Jesse struggled up the walk under a giggling, wiggling 125 pounds of woman, purposefully kicking up minishowers of snow with the rounded toes of his shiny black boots.
"Oof! Unngh! Arrgh!" His breath puffed out in smoky white clouds.
She pushed back his black hat with the satin ribbon band and rapped her knuckles on his forehead. "Cut it out, you! I know for a fact I'm light as a feather today." She leaned back in his arms, throwing the hand that grasped her bouquet high over her head and kicking up one slender leg encased in a filmy white silk stocking. Her short, white, gossamer veil floated on the air. "My feet have hardly touched the floor all day."
He laughed, then pretended to cough and wither, knees wobbling, shoulders sagging. "I know, honey. It's just that at my age all this excitement saps my strength."
She smacked him on the shoulder with the flowers, which were tied simply with a white ribbon, "In that case, I guess we'll just have to put off the wedding night until you build up your en-ergy."
He straightened up, sighing. "Oh, all right." Then he wiggled Ms eyebrows in an exaggerated leer. "But that's saying nothing about the wedding afternoon."
Caroline put back her head and laughed. The sound tinkled like bells on the clear, cold air. In two quick strides, Jesse carried her up the steps to the porch, where he swung her down and set her on her feet. She teetered on her high satin-covered heels, then leaned into the loop of his arms, her cheek pressed against his shoulder. Jesse braced himself against the porch post and just stood for a moment, staring at the frosty peaks of the mountains against the clear blue sky.
His wedding day. Even standing here in cowboy black, his best sirver-on-gray vest buttoned over a formal white shirt complete with starched collar and black string tie, his bride in his arms, he could hardly believe it. He looked down at the top of her head, her pale hair covered by fluffy layers of sheer white attached to a simple cloth-covered headband. She straightened and pulled away from him, her hand slipping down the sleeves of his black suit coat. He smiled, looking at her.
She had chosen a simple, elegant, street-length dress with a slim skirt. The strapless bodice was overlaid with sheer white fabric that hugged her slender arms and shoulders like skin, closing in a narrow satin ribbon at the base of her throat. Her long pale hair had been wound into a simple knot on the back of her head. He had never seen anything or anyone more beautiful. The narrow platinum band on her ring finger matched the one on his own hand, an oddly humbling reminder of the certainty of their love. He'd offered her diamonds, but bis practical Caroline had refused, saying that she'd rather have babies, that she already had everything else she could possibly want, meaning a home, family. Him. He marveled again that she had found him.
Found him, hell. She'd come after him with the same determination of Hannibal crossing the mountains. And he was unspeakably grateful.
She smiled, even as she shivered in the cold, clear air. He would warm her. She would be glowing with warmth before the rest of the family caught up with them. They had sneaked away from their own wedding luncheon, craving some time to themselves before the family descended again, demanding cake and champagne and teasing them about honeymooning at home. It seemed pointless to go somewhere far away just to spend all their time in bed trying to satisfy this ravening beast that was the passion between them, especially when everyone else would be going away tomorrow morning, his parents to Arizona, bis brother and family back to New Mexico. He'd have her all to himself again, but this time... Ah, this time...
Suddenly energized, he dipped and scooped her up again, whirling her around in a circle while they both laughed and her veils flew. Then he headed for the door. She switched her bouquet to the hand she'd slid around his neck and reached for the knob.
"Welcome home, Mrs. Wagner," he told her as he carried her across the threshold. She was kissing him as he kicked the door closed again.
In mat single, spare moment when thought was still possible, it occurred to him that his life had finally—finally—begun, and he knew that it would be long and full and loving. And probably wild, confusing, frustrating. God knew she'd run him ragged from the beginning! But he was up to the chase. Oh, yes. He was born for it. For her. For Caroline. Maybe he'd spent the better part of the last four decades just waiting for her, but if so, it was worth it More than worth it.
Welcome home, Mr. Wagner, he told himself as the world dissolved and he plunged headlong into happiness. Not bad for an older man. Not bad at all.
