by Linda Ellen
The stunning redhead and her companion met one another’s eyes and smiled before Beth giggled. Then, she turned to Charise and gave her another hug. “He did more than that, dearest Char. Papa Hinkle has been my protector, my champion, my advisor, my compatriot...and first and foremost—my proxy groom. Now, he is about to become one of Brownville’s two newest citizens.”
“That’s wonderful!” Charise was saying, but at the words proxy groom, Sam’s mind blanked out and his heart sprang forward in his chest and then began to gallop. Groom...married...Beth Ann... His palms began to sweat as he unconsciously tightened his grip on the bouquet. He couldn’t take his eyes off the gorgeous woman before him. Adorned in purple from her cute, flowered hat to the hem of her flowing skirts, she was perfect. With her fiery auburn hair arranged in an attractive chignon, several tendrils of which had escaped and were adoringly curled at her temples, her bright, snapping green eyes glittering with joy, her comely smile, alluring lips, and her creamy complexion... she was positively effervescent. And she was...for the moment at least...his bride. Fierce emotions rose up within him... pride... possessiveness... protectiveness... attraction... yearning...
Wait a minute! Did she just say... One of Brownville’s two newest citizens? She’s thinking of staying!
As if his brother heard his thoughts, Finn’s smile widened into a huge grin as he looked over his shoulder at Sam and announced to the new arrivals, “Ahh, speaking of grooms...Beth Ann, you do remember my brother, Sam, right? My proxy, and now, your husband.”
Finn moved to the side with an exaggerated flourish, clearing the way for Sam to step forward. He did so, inwardly cursing his massive size. He’d always been proud of the fact that he was a good four inches taller than his brother and outweighed him by at least fifty pounds—not that he was overweight—on the contrary, he was barrel-chested, large boned, and quite muscular...ruggedly handsome, thank-you-very-much. Born to be a lumberjack, his mother had always said.
However, standing amongst people of shorter stature, such as the elderly Mr. Hinkle, he sometimes felt like a giant. Beth Ann, shorter than Charise by several inches, seemed almost tiny. He figured she was probably not much over five feet. Goodness, I’ll have to be careful not to crush her... he mused, and then quickly became flustered at the images that thought inspired.
Carefully, he stepped closer, hoping he wouldn’t trip over his own feet and opened his mouth to voice a greeting, but then stopped to just stare into his new bride’s eyes. That sublime sea green gaze of hers literally seized him by the throat and he couldn’t seem to move or breathe as she smiled enchantingly up at him. She seemed genuinely glad to see him. Might it be that she wasn’t adverse to the idea of maintaining their marriage...making it real...not only staying in Brownville, but also remaining Mrs. Samuel Maynard?
Then, she was speaking. “Hello again, Sam. I want to thank you for your help. Your idea of marrying you by proxy quite literally saved me. I’ve got so much to tell you—all of you.” She looked up at him expectantly, but when he neither moved nor spoke, a teasing sparkle lit her eyes. She glanced down and then back up, allowing her teeth to nibble on her bottom lip—which did funny things to his insides as he couldn’t help but watch—and then she quipped, “Are those for me?”
The others chuckled, he knew at his expense, and the realization of the bouquet popped back into his mind. Embarrassed and feeling the hated telltale flush rise up his neck and into his cheeks, he gasped, “Oh! Yes, sorry...here!” and quite forcefully thrust them at her. Part of his brain realized he was acting like a lovesick schoolboy, but he couldn’t seem to help it. Put a rein on this horse, Sam!
However, before Beth could get a firm grip on the beautiful flowers, her fingers brushed Sam’s, and in reaction, his meaty fist unexpectedly let go, much like the jaws of a metal trap being sprung open. The fragrant blooms fell to the ground at their feet—straight into a large puddle from that morning’s rain shower.
I can’t believe I just did that! Sam fumed as he hastily bent to try and salvage a bloom or two. Unfortunately, Beth Ann bent forward at that same instant with the same intentions, and they bumped heads with a loud thump, a grunt from him and a squeal from her.
Literally seeing stars, Sam heard his brother beside him burst out laughing.
Chapter 7
“A nd then he asked me, ‘A bit long in the tooth to be marrying such a young lass, aren’t you?’” Zebulon chuckled.
Everyone around the table erupted in laughter.
“I told him, ‘Now Judge, I may be old, but I still have what it takes to be a proxy groom—I’m male, and I’m willing to help out a young lady in need.’ He agreed with my logic and he, um...performed the deed.”
Beth Ann giggled as she leaned back in her chair at the Blue Bird Café and dabbed at her mouth with her napkin. They had finished their meal long ago and were sitting around sipping coffee and talking.
The five of them had managed, after Sam had suffered immeasurable teasing from his brother about dropping the bouquet into a puddle, to arrange to have the bags and trunk delivered to Finn and Char’s apartment above the barbershop. Luckily the top of Beth Ann’s head had quickly stopped hurting from the unexpected contact with Sam’s forehead. Her heart had gone out to him for his obvious humiliation, and she had tried to make light of the incident as they left the depot and walked up the hill and a block over to have a pleasant meal at the eatery.
On the way there, the three Brownvillians had pointed out this or that house and business to the newcomers, and both she and Zebulon had listened with unfeigned interest. Then as they were passing by the barbershop, Beth Ann had looked her fill of the outside. She’d liked what she’d seen and was quite anxious to see Charise and Finn’s home, since she had heard so much about it and for the next little while, at least, it would be her new home. The two had also graciously invited Mr. Hinkle to stay with them in their second spare bedroom until he was able to get his bearings and decide upon his future.
All the while as they ambled along and lightly conversed, Sam had strolled beside her, close enough that he could have held her hand if he’d had a mind to...obviously he hadn’t, and for that, she had been disappointed. She wondered if the reason was that he hadn’t felt the urge to do so, or if he was perhaps a bit shy. Remembering the look on his face as he had fumbled with the bouquet of flowers, she rather hoped it was the latter. Now, seeing him again, she was quickly finding herself drawn to the big, strapping lumberjack.
Everything about Sam was alive and vital, exuding strength and reliability. Watching him, she wondered if he ever merely sat still and contemplated life in front of a gentle fire. He seemed to be the kind that would always have something to do and rarely feel tired.
Under her lashes, she stole yet another peek at her husband. Funny...she’d never been attracted to large, muscular men before, as all of the men she’d been acquainted with back in Louisville were of smaller stature than Sam, and of slighter build. But something about his gentleness despite his obvious strength sent waves of unexplained feelings through her body. Searching her heart for a moment, she reflected on whether her recent bout with helplessness and fear had her gravitating toward someone who could no doubt be her champion against danger.
No, it’s more than that...I already enjoy the sound of his voice...and the animated way he moves his hands when he speaks...his gentlemanly ways toward others...and the warm way he and his brother interact.
She’d never known a man who wore a full beard like his. I wonder if it would scratch my face... she pondered, and then hastily averted her gaze as his eyes swung to hers, lest he read her mind.
All through their scrumptious, late lunch of meatloaf, mashed potatoes, steamed greens, and apple crisp for dessert, Finn and Sam had kept up a nearly nonstop marathon of trading digs at one another. She guessed it was some kind of sibling ritual. At one point, after a particularly insulting exchange, Beth Ann’s mouth literally dropped open in surprise. Charise, however, ha
d turned her head to meet her shocked expression, rolled her eyes, and shook her head.
“They do this all the time. Always trying to get one up on the other. I’ve stopped trying to referee.”
Just then, Sam had finished telling the story Beth Ann had been waiting for—about the first time Finn had met Charise—and he had fallen flat on his face. Finn’s expression during his brother’s narrative, as well as the telltale flush of his cheeks, made the story all the funnier. The way Sam told it, reenacting the voices and slapping his palm on the tabletop and clanging the platters for sound, along with the hint of a few embellishments, put the icing on the cake.
Once he finished and everyone’s laughter had begun to abate, Finn rose up in his chair. “I know, I know, and me falling splat on my face was worse than Sam here dropping a few flowers. All right, All right. So, now let me tell you about the time Sam—” he began, only to be cut-off in mid sentence by his wife.
“That’s enough for one evening, Phineas Oliver. It’s getting late, I’m tired, and I want to go home and put my feet up.”
Instantly transforming into the attentive husband when she reminded him she was carrying extra weight, Finn switched gears, wiped his mouth, and pushed back his chair.
“Sure thing, Char. Here, let’s get you home,” he murmured and gently grasped her arm to help her out of her chair.
As he, Sam, and Zeb paid for the meals and the girls were gathering their belongings, Charise sent Beth Ann a wink and leaned over to whisper, “Reminding him of the baby works every time. Am I bad to use it in such a way?” she asked with a soft giggle.
“I’d say all’s fair in love and war...and navigating husbands,” Beth Ann whispered back with a light snicker.
The three men, finished with their task, turned to the gleeful women with truly confused looks, and as one, met each other’s gazes with clueless shrugs.
“Oh Charise, I love this!” Sam heard Beth Ann gasp as she climbed the steps to the back porch of Finn and Charise’s home—the second floor of what once upon a time had been the Lone Tree Saloon. Jesse James’ self-proclaimed favorite tavern in all Nebraska!
Finn had bought the building and made the bottom floor his barbershop and the top floor his home. He hadn’t wasted any time renovating, and one of the first things he had done was remove both sets of external steps, which were rotted beyond repair. That had left only a very tight, circular, internal staircase to access his living quarters.
However, on the eve of his departure to go to Louisville to marry his bride, Finn had broken his leg, necessitating that a new staircase be built down from the back porch. It was extra wide and the railings and balusters were sanded and nicely stained with varnish.
“Finn, Charise had written me about the lovely new steps you built, but she didn’t do them justice. They are wonderful,” Beth gushed. Sam watched as she trailed one delicate hand along the fine work he had done with his own hands.
Then as she reached the porch itself, she looked around at the twenty-foot by twelve-foot area, running her hand along the new, sturdy railing, and eyed the comfortable outdoor chairs and table, stands for potted plants come spring, and other decorations. Glancing toward Sam, she added, “And Sam, I know you had a hand in it as well. It’s such superb workmanship. You’re quite talented,” she smiled at him in the waning light.
At her praise, Sam felt himself puff up to his full height as he hefted her trunk over one shoulder. Amazing how compliments from a woman’s lips could buoy a man’s masculine pride, he mused. Hearing her words made him want to jump over fences or perform all kinds of heroic feats just to see her smile at him like that again and tell him he’d done a good job. Dang, Sam ol’ boy, you’ve got to get a hold of yourself or this little filly will run roughshod all over you!
He sent her a smile and a nod. “Thanks Beth.”
Finn topped the steps behind his wife, carrying Beth Ann’s two carpetbags, which along with the rest of the baggage, Charlie had delivered and left by the base of the steps. “Thanks, Beth Ann,” he replied to her compliment. “Did she tell you that in the spring, Sam and I are going to screen this porch in so that we can enjoy it more in the evenings? She hates our Nebraska mosquitoes,” he teased with a wink at his wife.
“My goodness, that’s the truth. Each bite swells up to the size of a quarter on my skin, and the itching seems to never cease!” Charise qualified, giving a little disgusted shudder.
“I hate them, too. And believe me, Finn, Louisville had no shortage of the little buggers,” Beth Ann laughed.
Seeing his wife shiver a bit, Finn encouraged, “Let’s get on in the house, it’s getting a bit chilly out here now that autumn has set in,” as he ushered everyone inside the warm kitchen.
The ladies entered, followed by Zebulon struggling with his own valises.
“Oh hey there, Zeb, put those down...I can get them for you...” Sam belatedly offered, feeling ashamed that he’d been so fixated on showing off for Beth, he’d let common courtesy lapse.
Zeb, however, grunted, “Thanks, son, but I’ll manage.” True to his word, Zeb did get the bags inside as Finn held the door for him and then for Sam so that he could maneuver Beth Ann’s large trunk through the opening.
Sam, however, privately wondered what in the heck Beth Ann had packed in the blasted trunk—it felt like lead shot or bricks—but he’d be danged if he let her see him struggling at all under the weight.
Charise crossed to the door to the hall, “Through here, everyone. I’m so glad we went ahead and fixed up both rooms when I was attending to yours, Beth,” she said as she hustled forward to open the door to the first room past a center hall. “I guess a little bird told me we’d need it,” she added with a smile at their elderly boarder.
Zebulon immediately countered, “Now, I feel bad for you going to extra trouble on my account. After all, you didn’t even know I was coming. Surely there is a hotel or boarding house...”
Finn interrupted, “Nah. You’re welcome to stay with us as long as you like, Zebulon. We’re glad that you accompanied Beth Ann and Charise has told me how they were constantly borrowing items from you when they were your neighbors,” he added with a laugh. “We feel like you’re family. We wouldn’t have it any other way.”
“Yes, Papa. Of course you’ll stay with us!” Charise added with a kiss to his weathered cheek, having quickly picked up on Beth Ann’s use of the endearment.
Sam watched as the old man actually seemed to blush, even while grinning with gratitude and affection. He set one of his bags down by the door to the room, which they indicated was for him, so that he could better wrap his arm around Charise. “Thank you, sweetie.” As he pulled back, he added, “You know... the old apartment house was sure a lot quieter after you left.”
“Quieter!” Charise squealed in mock indignity. The others laughed and she added with hands on hips and pretend affront, “I’ll have you know that we were always considerate of our neighbors...unlike those two brothers that lived down the hall from us. They seemed to always be making some kind of noise.”
“And on the first floor, the young couple with a baby who seemed to cry all hours of the night,” Beth Ann added, in defense of her friend, although her sparkling eyes told the tale that she was enjoying the teasing.
Having stopped behind them as they were standing in his way, Sam cleared his throat. “This is all well and good, but kindly move outta the way—this thing ain’t filled with feathers, you know.”
The girls laughed again as they made way for him to get through. Twisting and grunting, he wrestled the huge trunk through the door and set it at the foot of the bed in the room Beth Ann would be staying in...for hopefully not too long a time, if Sam had anything to do with it.
Finn put Beth’s carpetbags down just inside the door and then followed Charise and Zebulon into his room. Sam could hear them pointing out its features and explaining about the bath downstairs, which the newcomers would see in a few minutes.
Beth A
nn had followed Sam into her room. He could feel her eyes on him as he stood up from carefully lowering the heavy trunk into its place. There wasn’t a snowball’s chance he was going to put a hand to his lower back right then, and he hoped the twinge he felt would be gone in the morning.
“Thank you, Sam,” she said softly. He turned to meet her eyes and his body seemed to freeze in place.
Those eyes, they were the feature he had remembered the most—so vividly green and breathtaking. She stood there looking up at him expectantly, but all he seemed to be able to do was stare back at her, his mind at a total loss for anything worthwhile to say.
She went on, “Thank you for offering the use of your name to allow me to marry you by proxy. Your premonition came horribly true...” she paused and visibly trembled, placing one hand against her heart. “If I hadn’t had the marriage license with me when that awful Fetterman caught up to us, and could show it to that police officer to prove my claims...I just don’t know what would have happened. I’d probably be his prisoner. The man is insane,” she whispered as she trembled yet again. Her eyes had begun to moisten.
Sam instantly reacted. “Oh, honey,” he whispered back as he closed the distance between them and enfolded her in his arms, one hand gently pressing her head against his chest. Safely ensconced therein, she automatically raised her arms to loop around his solid waist. They stood thus for several long moments, gently swaying, until Sam felt Beth Ann relax and the tension begin to leave her body.
Finally, fishing around for something to say, he murmured, “Mama said it was a gift, the way I sometimes know when something bad is gonna happen...God’s whispers. She said that she had prayed her son would walk in love and be a help to man. But Pop used to call it my woman’s intuition.” He chuckled softly. “Made me so mad every time he said that. But...I’ve been right so many times. Don’t know how...but I’m glad everything worked out this time...”
