“All right,” she whispered, shifting to do as he’d asked, lying beside him with his arms around her.
He felt her shiver and pulled the sheet up to cover her, his head bending, so that he might kiss her with soft caresses meant to ease her fright.
He was being denied a wedding night, and the pain of that denial struck him with sharp talons, rending his spirits until he felt himself falling into the depths of despair. He had frightened his bride, had failed in his wooing of her.
“Perhaps tomorrow night, Simon,” she whispered softly. “I’ll truly try to do better.”
“I was at fault, Grace. I rushed you too much, and frightened you.”
“I’m not afraid of you, Simon. Only of what you expect of me. I think I wasn’t aware of how intimate this would be. I should have known.”
“How could you?” he asked, only now realizing just how innocent his bride truly was. She’d had no one to speak with her about this act of marriage, and he’d thought he could persuade her to fill the part of a wife. And perhaps he could, but not tonight, he realized.
His hand moved to her back and he smoothed a wrinkle from her gown, his fingers against the fabric, his hand moving in a soothing pattern. She murmured soft words he did not understand, perhaps whispering a good-night to him, he thought, and then she snuggled a bit closer, as if she’d lost her fear of his touch. In mere moments, she was sleeping, not a sound slumber, but apparently she trusted him enough to lie beside him and curl closely to his long form.
Simon’s eyes closed for a moment, and then snapped open again, for he was only too aware that this night would be long. He was married, and yet not a husband. And with little to look forward to, unless Grace could be persuaded to speak with Ethel. The girl needed to have a womanly conversation with someone, for it didn’t appear Simon could persuade her to his will.
And so he lay, awake and silent, aware only of the slight weight of Grace by his side, his manhood aching and needy.
He must have fallen asleep, for when he next stirred, Grace was gone from his bed, the pillow still warm where her head had been, the sheet pushed aside and only the rays of the rising sun sharing the place where he lay.
After breakfast they walked into town. Simon did not have to preach the morning service at church; his bishop had offered to tend to it in his stead. His parents were sitting on the porch at the hotel, rocking in chairs provided there for the guests who shared the hospitality of the establishment. Simon’s parents expressed a wish to treat Simon and his bride to a meal in the hotel dining room, and shortly after noon they found themselves sitting around a table, perusing the handwritten menu with Sunday’s offerings listed.
After ordering, they settled down to await their meal and Simon’s mother shared her delight in the amenities offered by the hotel. She laughed softly, speaking of the buckets of water carried up the long flight of stairs by the bellboy, then dumped into a private bathing tub, the treat arranged for her pleasure by Simon’s father. And when that gentleman smiled at Cora Grafton, it was obvious to both Simon and Grace that George was bewitched by his wife of over thirty years.
They ate well. Simon especially was hungry, for his wedding feast had not been properly appreciated; only the time with his bride had been important yesterday. Now he demolished a steak, watched as Grace ate chicken potpie and shared small talk with his mother over their dinner. His mother spoke of home, of his childhood friends, of family members and of their train ride, finding Grace to be a good listener, for she was eager to hear anything his mother had to say about Simon.
Simon was aware that his mother had traveled but little in her life, only to the next county, there in Oklahoma, and the train traveling the distance to Maple Creek, Kansas, must have seemed like a magical time to her. She was but a simple woman, a loving mother and a wife of whom his father could be proud. And he found that such things mattered more to him today than they had before.
Perhaps it was having a wife of his own that opened his eyes to the beauty of womanhood, that made him more aware of his own mother’s loveliness, faded a bit over the years, but still vibrant and pleasing.
They would stay for the evening vespers service in his church, for though the bishop had served in Simon’s pulpit this morning, he was even now on his way back home and Simon would handle the vespers tonight.
And now they left the hotel dining room, Simon’s parents vowing they would enjoy the quiet of a Sunday and perhaps steal a nap in their lovely room on the second floor. For Simon, there was the joy of walking through town with his bride on his arm, catching her clean, sweet scent as he bent to her and spoke of many things.
They sauntered slowly, aware of watching eyes, for some of the townsfolk were blatant in their survey of the young couple. Many sat on porches, enjoying the summer day, several buggies passed them by and hands were lifted in greeting. Simon felt pride steal over him, though he knew that it could be a besetting sin, this feeling of arrogance that filled him as he looked down at his wife. Surely no man had ever had such beauty by his side, such sweetness to bear up in his arms as he carried her over their threshold.
It might be a day late, but Simon had decided to observe the custom, lifting Grace into his arms and opening the front door to carry her into the foyer before he set her down on the floor. “I meant to do that yesterday, but I was so eager to get you home, I forgot,” he said with a chuckle. He pushed the door closed behind them and took her in his arms, yearning for her hands on his face, her lips touching his, the sweet scent of woman filling him to overflowing.
They took a nap of their own then, although Grace said later that he hadn’t slept much, only held her and whispered soft words to her as she dozed. They arose in time for vespers at the church, and Simon took his place behind his pulpit. He led his congregation in prayer, directed them in hymns from the hymnals and spoke but a few words of scripture, as befitted a vespers service. His final words were of thanksgiving for his church, his people and his parents, who had guided his life into the path he now took.
And then he dismissed his congregation and met them, one and all, at the wide front doors of his church, shaking hands, speaking small bits of greeting in the manner he’d grown to enjoy.
And by his side stood the woman of his choice, she of the laughing eyes and flashing dimples. Her dark hair was formed into a mass of curls and pinned atop her head, and if he thought of its beauty spread across his pillow, he could be forgiven, he supposed, for it was enough to tempt a saint, to think of her thusly.
And Simon Grafton was no saint.
Chapter Nine
Monday morning found them on the train platform, waving as George and Cora Grafton stood at the back of the final railway car, the last of a long line following the smoke-spewing engine. Simon’s mother wiped away a tear, and his father slid his arm around her waist and tugged her close, winning a smile from her for his efforts.
The train pulled away and Simon swallowed hard as his parents disappeared. He’d made his choice to settle in Maple Creek years ago, but their leaving was wrenching since he saw them so seldom. It was the knowledge that they had come so far to see him married that tempered his sadness at their departure.
Grace took his arm and turned him away from the platform. He looked down into her face and reveled once more in his own good fortune. She was comforting him when her own parents had been dead and buried for over a year, and she would never see them again. His smile was not feigned as he led her toward home, for he recognized again the blessings he’d so recently been gifted.
They were halted midway through town when the sheriff hailed them from in front of the jailhouse. “Did your parents get off all right?” he asked Simon and then ushered them into his office.
“I need to let you know that we’re having a tough time finding Kenny Summers, folks. I went out to the Cumberland place again, and it seems he’s not been seen there since just before Belle got mauled so bad over at the saloon. You need to know to be careful. The man i
s a fugitive now and unless he’s left town altogether, he’s more than likely a danger to Grace.”
“I wouldn’t count on him walking away,” Simon said ruefully.
“Nor would I,” Charlie Wilson agreed.
Grace felt her heart almost leap into her throat. “You don’t think he’d hurt Harold or Ellie, or any of the elderly folks outside of town, do you, Sheriff? He might think to get back at me that way, since I was at the Blackwoods’ farm, even though it was but for a few hours one day. He might have followed us there.”
“It’s hard telling how his mind works, Grace. We’ve solid proof of him being responsible for the attack on Belle, for she’s ready to identify him in court, so I think his days of freedom are numbered. Once we get ahold of him, he’ll spend a good long time in jail.”
Their walk as they continued through town was quiet, their mood sober as they thought of the pain and suffering of Belle. Grace’s words burst from her as though they could not be contained. “I almost wish your bullet had been lower the day you shot Kenny. If it had struck him in the chest, we might not have all these problems, Simon.”
He shook his head. “You don’t know how I struggled with what happened that day. I had to preach a sermon on one of the commandments the following Sunday. I was doing a series and the next one in line was relating to murder.”
Grace halted and clutched at Simon’s arm. “But you didn’t kill him, Simon. I should be ashamed, for I was wrong to even wish such a thing. And I well remember that sermon. And all the rest of the commandments that followed on the Sunday mornings after that.”
“No, I didn’t kill him, but I fear I wanted to,” Simon admitted. He looked away from Grace, as if he could not face her with the admission. “And if I had, it would have been better all the way around. I have to admit, I agree with you, sweetheart. It would have been more fit and proper an ending had I aimed a bit lower that day. Poor Belle would not still be suffering from his attack.”
“I don’t recall you aiming that day, Simon. You just held your gun and shot it. I doubt you even thought about where the bullet would hit him.”
He looked at her in silence for a moment and then, grasping her hand, continued on down the road toward the parsonage. “You can’t imagine how difficult it was for me to have to tell my bishop what I’d done, Grace. He didn’t hold me accountable, for he said any man would have done the same. But I’ve felt, ever since I chose my profession, that as a man pledged to serve God, I must set my standards higher than just any other fellow in the world. I remember when I was younger, how I felt about our pastor back home, how I admired him and his principles.
“I suppose that’s one reason why I couldn’t have taken your innocence before our wedding. It wouldn’t have been right for me. I don’t judge anyone else, only Simon Grafton, and for me there has to be a set of rules to follow.”
“I fear even now you’ve been robbed of your rightful loving of me, Simon. I’m so sorry to be such a coward, for you’re a good man and deserved better from me,” Grace said quietly, her head bowed.
Simon thought then of his failings in life, knowing that Grace thought him to be an almost perfect man, and that was far from the truth. He spoke impetuously then, telling her of the man he’d killed so long ago as a youth, and in a few short words he made Grace aware of the incident. For he wanted his conscience clear, feeling that she deserved to know the worst of him.
And yet, the light of love still shone from her blue eyes. “God doesn’t expect any of us to be perfect, Simon, but defending your mother that day was the act of a loving son,” Grace said simply. She felt his pain, knowing that he’d fallen short of his own standards on that day so long ago. And again on the day he’d wounded Kenny. She smiled up at him, swinging their hands between them as they walked, hoping to lighten his mood a bit, speaking of their earlier discussion. “And did you enjoy finishing the series on the Ten Commandments, Simon?”
He grinned. “Yeah, the rest weren’t nearly so difficult for me to preach. But I’ll admit I’m finding it easier to work on the good guys in the Bible right now. I’m devoting a Sunday morning to each of them, starting with Noah a month or so ago. Although he was no saint, either, now that I think about it. I guess there aren’t too many of them floating around these days, any more than there were back then.”
“You may be right, but then I have to admit I’m rather prejudiced in your favor.” Her smile was brilliant, and he looked up at the sky quickly, as if to see if the sun had just come from behind a cloud, for so bright was her countenance before him.
“Will your folks let you know when they get home?” Grace asked, knowing that Simon would be concerned until he heard from them.
“Yes. My father said he’d wire us when they get off the train, and Mother promised to write in a day or so. It sure was good to have them here. Even if my mother did put you on the spot with hinting around about wanting grandchildren.”
“Your mama is a real sweetheart, Simon. She didn’t bother me one little bit. I can’t wait to have your babies.”
“Do you mean that, Grace? You won’t mind if you are in a family way right off?”
“First we’ll have to be intimate, Simon, before I can think about babies.”
“Well, maybe in a couple of months or so, now that I think about it,” Simon said, not wanting to rush Grace into motherhood before she was ready for it. “We need to settle in with each other before we have a third member in this family,” he said, smiling at her.
His lips curved in a smile as he busied himself with opening the gate in front of the parsonage. “I thought we’d settled in pretty good last night, love. I feel almost like a husband already, and you look just like a wife ought to, pretty and shiny, kinda like a brand-new penny.”
She frowned at him mockingly. “A penny? Is that all I’m worth?”
He shook his head. “Ah, sweetheart, I can’t tell you how much you mean to me, how highly I prize you. I won’t even try, for you wouldn’t believe me.”
“Give it a try, Mr. Grafton. You’ve talked yourself into a hole. Now just try to get out of it.”
The front door swung open at his touch and he escorted her into the house, halting her in the hallway, bending low to whisper against her ear.
“I didn’t frighten you too badly, Grace, did I? On our wedding night and then again last night?”
“Last night?” She looked up at him in surprise. “Last night we just slept in the middle of the bed. You didn’t even… Well, you know, we didn’t…”
He took pity on her. “You know why, honey. I didn’t want to hurt you and I knew you were upset. I’ll do better in a day or so. Perhaps you’ll let me closer to you tonight. I can only hope so. But I did sleep with my arms around you all night, you know. I sure didn’t give you room to get away from me. But I knew by the way you looked that you weren’t ready yet for my loving.”
She dropped her face against his chest. “I will be, Simon,” she whispered softly. And then she looked up at him and her smile was perfection to his eyes. “I’ll try ever so hard to be your wife tonight,” she said, leaning against him, as if she craved his touch on her body.
Simon ran his palms down her sides, from beneath her arms to her hips, and then encircled her with arms that promised much, and hands that offered her pleasure.
She faced him, nestling closely to him, her head on his shoulder. “I promise you I’ll try to make you happy tonight, Simon. I’ll really try to be what you want.”
“You already are, Grace. And if we don’t consummate our marriage tonight, it will be another night, but it must be when you’re ready. I promise not to rush you again.”
Grace looped her index finger through Simon’s watch chain, which reached from one side of his vest to the other. “See how long we have until it’s time to begin dinner, Simon. I’ll have to give Ethel a hand with preparations.”
He obliged her, pulling his watch from the pocket designed to hold it and showing her the time. “It�
�s only eleven now, Grace. Ethel won’t care if you don’t help with today’s dinner, anyway.”
“Well, I care,” she said. “You go spend some time in the yard, Simon. I have things to do, now that I’m a wife.” He smiled, nodding his approval of her as she escaped to the kitchen where she heard Ethel puttering about.
They walked through town after supper that evening, a slow stroll that once more exposed them to the neighbors who watched from porches and called out to them. Simon was popular in town, Grace had decided, for the men seemed to enjoy his company and the women cast her looks of…perhaps envy was too strong a word for the expression on their faces when the younger females of the town spied their handsome minister out and about.
Grace only knew that she was proud to be his wife and the overflow of interest in Simon fell on her. Folks were friendly to her, the ladies including her in their conversations after church, the menfolk polite and courteous. She’d done well to marry Simon, for she’d found a place in the community, if only by association with him.
Simon opened the front door and they went into the house, a single lamp in the parlor to light their way. Grace sat down on the sofa and Simon found his place beside her. From the kitchen a kettle or pan rattled against the stove and Ethel could be heard humming softly.
“Are you ready for bed, Grace? Or do you want a piece of the pie Ethel made for dessert first? I’m sure there were several pieces left over if you’d like a cup of tea and another piece of pie,” Simon told her.
“No, I think I’m ready for bed,” she said, a flush rising to cover her cheeks, perhaps at the thought of her promise to him.
Simon rose and held out his hand to her, then led her across the parlor and into the foyer. He called out to Ethel as they reached the foot of the stairway. “We’re home, Ethel and we’re going up to bed now.”
Ethel appeared in the kitchen doorway. “I’m just filling the coffeepot for morning and I’m going to put some wood in the stove and bank it for the night. I’ll be up in a few minutes.”
Saving Grace Page 11
