"You think?"
"I know!" An idea came to her. "Owen, we could have a secret wedding."
"Um," he said with a thoughtful look, "that's something to consider." Smiling, he nodded. "Good idea! And we can marry in public later."
"Wonderful!" She wanted to spring from her chair and rush over to kiss him, to let his hands run over her body and feel his caresses. But not here, not in this place. Later, ah, later . . .
"Now, I want you to return to your house in Allegheny, and that reminds me. Didn't I tell you I don't want you visiting me in jail? This is no place for a lady.”
“Darling, I had to tell you about William. Besides, how do I know when I'll see you again?" Lisa said, her voice rising.
"It should be very soon, because my trial is coming up within the next day or so. The others charged with treason have already had their trial, found innocent and released."
"Why didn't you tell me that in the first place, as soon as I got here?"
"You didn't give me a chance. Now go home and remember I'll be with you again before the end of the week."
Lisa touched her fingers to her lips, then placed them on his mouth. "I love you so much, Owen."
"And I, you, sweetheart. I can never tell you how much. When I see you again--and it will be soon, I promise--we can start to make plans."
"Goodbye, darling." She left him then, walking self-consciously past the prison guard. A feeling of optimistic happiness enfolded her and accompanied her all the way back to their home in Allegheny.
* * *
Innocent of treason!
Owen left the Court of Oyer and Terminer a short while after his acquittal, heading for Lisa's home in Allegheny. Within minutes, she was in his arms. He held her close, kissing her again and again.
"Didn't I tell you they'd never find me guilty of treason?" he exclaimed.
"Thank God!" Returning his kisses, she touched his cheeks and ran her hand through his hair, her fingers tangling in his thick locks. "Oh, darling, thank God you're with me again!" She drew back to take her fill of him, pressing her hand to her thudding chest.
"I came straight to you, Lisa. I'm a free man now." Owen looked down at her, his eyes moist as he clasped her hand to lead her to the sofa. He tilted his head and observed her close.
"Why the frown, sweetheart? Aren't you happy to see me?" he asked with a teasing grin, and made as though to rise from his seat. "Shall I go back to jail?"
Lisa laughed shakily as she tugged at his arm. "Don't you dare go back! You're going to stay here with me." She was quiet for a moment. "It's just that . . . I've been thinking about William."
"William!" He grimaced.
"Owen, I feel so guilty about his death . . . as if . . . as if I'm to blame." Lisa wrung her hands together. "God knows, I wanted to be free of him, but I never wished him dead."
Taking her in his arms again, Owen brushed his cheek against hers. "You mustn't think like that, sweetheart. How in the world are you to blame for his suicide? Don't ever think that. From what you've told me, he was depressed over unwise investments, losing money . . ."
She sighed. "I suppose so. But there are still so many things to take care of--"
"Isn't Lawrence dealing with your husband's affairs?" he asked, looking into her eyes.
"Yes, but Lawrence tells me everything will take a long time--his debts, the sale of the house . . . William's financial concerns are very complicated."
"Try not to worry, although I know that's easier said than done. If anyone can take care of your husband's affairs, Lawrence can. Please," he murmured, "no more talk. I've missed you so very much." He kissed her again, a slow, deep kiss that seemed to last forever. His lips pressed against hers in wild desperation, his hands moving purposefully over her body. “My darling, how much longer must we wait?”
* * *
“My wife, at last!”
Lisa smiled at him, wanting to pinch herself, afraid to believe that happiness was finally theirs. After a private wedding ceremony at their house in Allegheny, with only Mrs. Gilmore and Elizabeth and Lawrence as witnesses, Owen gathered Lisa close, his arms strong and warm. Their guests had only recently left, Mrs. Gilmore riding in Elizabeth’s and Lawrence’s carriage.
Owen drew back and held her at arm’s length, a teasing look in his eyes. “Well, now that we have the place to ourselves, what shall we do? Play cards?” He slapped his forehead. “Ah, I have a chess set at home. Should have brought it here.”
“Owen . . .” Lisa’s body warmed, her yearning for him all but unbearable. They’d waited so long, so long.
He drew her close again, his cheek warm against hers. “I’ve waited so long for you,” he murmured, echoing her thoughts. “Can’t wait any longer.” He slipped off his coat and threw it on the sofa, then led her to their upstairs bedroom.
He paused at the doorway. “Lisa, I know this is the first time for you. . . .”
“And with you, it will be beautiful, my darling.” Her heart sang inside her, her happiness almost more than she could bear.
He helped her undress and they slipped into bed, bare skin to bare skin, as she always dreamed it would be. He eased her close, the curves of her body taunting him, driving him to madness. His mouth descended on hers in a deep, lingering kiss. All his love and longing converged in this one, exquisite moment. His lips moved slowly, persuasively, while he savored her warm lips, her body so close. His body ached with a yearning to long stifled, a hunger too intense to be denied. Every pore in his body, every drop of blood, cried out for this one woman in all the world, meant only for him.
By the pale gaslight, he drank in the beauty of her body–those alluring breasts, the nipples hard with passion; her slender waist, the gentle swell of her hips. His mouth, warm and demanding, found hers again, his arousal at the breaking point. Running his fingers through her silky hair, he inhaled her lilac fragrance, agonizing how much longer he could wait to be one with her. He feathered kisses from her forehead to her throat, his fingers caressing her breast.
“Lisa! I’ve wanted you for so long! I can never tell you how much I love you.”
“You don’t need to tell me, sweetheart. Show me!”
She delighted in the touch of his lips on hers, the provocative pressure of his bare chest. She loved the movement of his fingers, slow and deliberate, over her. Could this really be happening, this beautiful melody he played on her body, this epiphany of love that seemed to have no beginning and no end? She’d waited months, years, a lifetime for this moment! Wanting him, loving him, was the here and now. Nothing and no one else existed for her but this man, this one person who could give her such pleasure, this dear one she loved more than life.
Covering his face with kisses, she stroked his muscled shoulders and back. How she savored the feel of him, the very masculine essence of his body. A desperate need grew inside her, so intense her body throbbed.
“I love you so,” he said again, then said no more, but she didn’t need words to realize how much he loved her. His every touch, his kisses, told her more than words. Lightly kissing the hollow of her throat, he murmured endearments, his lips covering her taut breast. His mouth, his fingers, found all the sensitive secrets of her body. She returned his kisses and caresses, wanting him as she’d never imagined possible.
“Please, dear,” he whispered, “let me make love to you now.”
“Yes, oh, yes!”
Raising himself above her, he began to enter her, trying to go slowly for her sake.
Pain shot through her, but she ignored it, her only wish to give him pleasure. Hearing his ragged breathing, she gloried in his every movement, the heat of his skin next to hers. To know the rapture of his body on hers, to hear his whispered love words in her ear, to realize she could give him such exquisite enjoyment–this was happiness!
After his release, he stayed with her, resting his head next to hers, telling her again and again of his love. Slowly, he withdrew and sank back next to her. “I’m sorry ab
out the pain.”
“I’m not. I’m glad you were the first.” She smiled in the dark. “The first and only.” She leaned over him, her hair as light as a whisper and as enticing as perfume, falling across his chest. Her fingers made circling movements on his chest, moving downward to his belly . . . and beyond. She felt his arousal, knew he wanted her, too. “Make love to me again.” With sighs and caresses, she lured him and eased every closer to him.
He enfolded her in his embrace, tangling his fingers through her hair. Tenderly, seductively, he drove her to a point where she could no longer deny her passion than she could stop her heart’s beating. As they became one again, she luxuriated in his body heat, his every thrust, the whispered love words in her ear.
This was all she’d ever wanted, all she’d ever dreamed of. And intense ache built inside her, a desire too great to be denied. Even in her wildest dreams, she’d never known there could be such joy to share with a loved one. She moved sensuously beneath him, wanting to give him pleasure, and to heighten her own enjoyment.
Owen, sweetheart! His kisses, his caresses, his deep thrusts inside her brought her to the brink of rapture and beyond. Pleasure flowed through her, washed over her, overwhelmed her until she could only cry with joy. His low moans told her he felt the same. Ah, she could stay in his arms until the end of time. He kissed her again and told her of his love, his voice low and husky in her ear.
Her happiness was complete.
Warmly satiated, Lisa rose from bed while Owen still slept, his breathing deep and even. The poor man must be exhausted, she mused, recalling their night of lovemaking. As the first pale light of a new day lit the eastern sky, she thought of all that had happened this year and of what lay ahead. She knew many troubles stretched into the future but knew, too, they would face their problems and solve them together. Eventually, the steel mills would rehire the skilled workers and Owen could return to work long enough to earn money for his college education. She would help him in every way, for nothing and no one would prevent his becoming a civil engineer. Ah, so many good things lay in store for them. They had only to be patient. She turned his way and smiled, wanting to live every minute of her life, to share all her love, with Owen.
The future was theirs!
Epilogue
1941
Owen parked his Packard and got out, leaning heavily on his cane. As Lisa stepped from the car, he marveled that she still seemed as young and spry as when he'd first met her, so many years ago.
"They chose a pleasant day for the dedication ceremony, don't you think?" Lisa closed the car door, then came around to take his arm, a warm smile on her pretty face.
"Right. But it's going to rain soon," he said, flexing his left leg. "My rheumatism tells me so."
"Come now, you're doing fine." Lisa squeezed his arm against her side, smiling with pride and happiness. A light breeze ruffled her gray hair and fluttered her skirt around her knees. "You've outlived most of the men you worked with. Do you see anyone you recognize, dear?"
"Not yet." Owen scanned the crowd on this grassy spot as he looked for friends he'd worked with before the strike. None were here, or at least, he didn't see any. Most of them had died, as had Frick and Carnegie.
Together, he and Lisa approached the monument to the Homestead steelworkers, impatient to see its unveiling. The wait is worth it, Owen mused as he observed a pretty majorette in her skimpy outfit. My, how times had changed.
Lisa tapped his arm. “I’m going to move around here, talk with others. Want to come with me?”
He sighed. “Not now, maybe later.” For now, he just wanted to be by himself.
She kissed his cheek. “Okay, see you in a little while.”
As Lisa mingled with the crowd and struck up casual conversation with some of the spectators, he considered all the changes that had taken place since that time so long ago--like centuries!--when the union had struck against the Carnegie Steel Company.
Running a hand through his unruly white hair, Owen walked toward an isolated spot and eased himself down on the grass. He locked his hands around his knees, content to rest for a few minutes and sift the memories--good and bad--through his mind. He thought of old friends, particularly Lawrence and Elizabeth. It had taken Lawrence months to untangle William's financial affairs, way back in 1893. To no one's surprise, he'd found that William had left many debts. After the sale of the Ellsworth Avenue mansion, however, Lisa realized assets of over four-thousand dollars, which she'd invested wisely. Their love had only grown over the years.
They remained friends with Emma, who remarried four years after Anton's death. Emma had five grandchildren now, all doing well.
From a distance, Owen heard the chatter and laughter of the good people of Pittsburgh who'd come to see the monument. He'd get up soon and join them, but for now, he enjoyed his solitude, a gentle breeze bathing his face, providing relief from the heat. With an attempt at comfort, he loosened his tie and unbuttoned his coat.
He shifted his position on the hard ground and recollected how the years had benefitted him, despite the normal trials of life. After graduation from the School of Engineering at Western University, he'd obtained a satisfying position with a prominent engineering firm in Pittsburgh, designing roads and bridges. He'd worked there for fifteen years before taking in two partners to establish his own engineering firm. And a profitable company it had been, too, providing a good income for him and Lisa and their four children while enabling him to build a comfortable home in Fox Chapel.
Enough reminiscing, Owen thought as he rose to his feet, wincing with the effort. His mouth set in determination, he tried to manage without his cane. Bits and snatches of conversation reached his ears as he made his way among the press of people.
"We're going to be dragged into another war," one young man was saying. "You mark my words. They'll bring back the draft, and it's off to Europe for me."
"Not another war!" An older man said, echoing Owen's thoughts. His oldest son had fought on the Western Front during the Great War, and now he feared his grandsons--all four of
them--would be drafted to fight Germany or Japan. Only a matter of time.
Returned to the present, he saw Lisa looking for him. How pretty she was, with her green linen dress and fetching straw hat, her gray hair bobbed short and curling around her ears. And that amber necklace--it was his idea that she wear it today. How well he remembered first seeing it, when the Amalgamated had its convention in Pittsburgh back in '92. Like yesterday!
Lisa caught up with him, taking his arm. "They're ready to unveil the monument now." His heart turned over at the sight of her, her proud and happy expression. "I told the officials you were one of the Homestead steelworkers at the time of the strike, so they want you to unveil it."
"I'm honored!" Together they returned to the monument where Owen stood for a few silent moments, swallowing a lump in his throat. While the crowd waited in quiet expectation and with Lisa at his side, he removed the cover from the monument. Not saying a word, he and Lisa stood back to read the inscription:
In memory of the Iron and Steel Workers who were killed in Homestead on July 6, 1892, while striking against the Carnegie Steel Company in defense of their American rights.
Lisa turned to him. "A fitting tribute, don't you think, dearest?" Tilting her head, she gave him a steady look.
Owen nodded but kept silent, too choked with emotion to speak. A fitting tribute, yes. He could still hear the screams of the wounded and dying, could hear the crack of the rifles and the roar of the cannon. They'd routed the Pinkertons, all right, but Frick and Carnegie had had their way . . . then. Now, it was the United States Steelworkers, firmly entrenched at Homestead and the other mills across the country, who had the last word. Hell, the company wasn't even Carnegie anymore. It was the United States Steel Corporation, the world's first billion-dollar corporation.
Lisa gave his arm a gentle squeeze, and after socializing for a few minutes, they returned to the car. In q
uiet contemplation, Owen observed they'd come a long, long way since that July day in 1892. Despite the horrors of the Battle at the Landing, its aftermath had brought happiness to him and Lisa and had changed their lives forever. After a short walk, they reached the car, where they exchanged loving glances. He knew she felt the same.
The End
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Born near Pittsburgh, Shirley Martin attended the University of Pittsburgh. After graduating from "Pitt", she taught school for one year, then obtained a position as a flight attendant with Eastern Airlines. Based in Miami, she met her future husband there. After raising three sons, she devoted her time to writing, something she had always wanted to do.
With a vivid imagination and a love of storytelling, Shirley has always enjoyed writing. Her first published novel, "Destined to Love" reflects her familiarity with western Pennsylvania, where she hails from, and her love of romance writing. From this historical romance, she blossomed out to other romance genres. "One More Tomorrow" is a vampire romance, one her publisher dubbed "a sizzling seller". With several fantasy novels and novellas, her writing should appeal to just about every reader of romance. Her books have been sold at Amazon and most major book stores and have garnered great reviews.
A widow, Shirley lives in Birmingham, Alabama, with her two cats.
Also from Shirley Martin by Books We Love
Midnight for Morgana
Night Secrets
Night Shadows
Destined to Love
Dream Weaver
One More Tomorrow
The Princess and the Curse
The Sacrifice
NOTE FROM THE PUBLISHER:
Forbidden Love Page 25
