I’m lucky in more ways than that. She turned to see a large square case with reinforced bands at each end, leather patches on the corners tacked on with metal brads, and a keyed lock under the dual handles. A very expensive-looking bag. “That’s beautiful. Did you make that?”
“I did. I can make one like it for you.” He nodded. “Or I can make you a portmanteau.”
“What’s that?” She sat with her chin cupped in her palm as he first explained that particular type of luggage, and then he expounded on the various items of leather goods he offered for sale. As she listened, she spotted Torin riding within sight but at a distance from the wagons. Probably because the squeaking of the wheels or the creaking of the harnesses might make the mustangs hard to control.
Before she realized how much time had passed, they stopped by the side of a creek for the midday meal. Beef sandwiches, pickles, oatmeal cookies, and tea never tasted so good. Rather than unharness the teams, Nic brought pails of water to the horses, and the sisters exercised their legs.
“How is driving by yourself?” Cinna held Gigi’s leash and watched the dog hop over the dried tufts of prairie grass.
“All right.” Nola glanced over her shoulder toward where Torin watered the horses. “With no one to distract me, though, I’m getting anxious about what I’ve committed myself to.” She gave a sideways glance and then looked away. “Suppose that sounds ridiculous, since I’m the one who made the suggestion last night.”
Grinning, Cinnia nudged her shoulder against her sister’s. “Not at all. I’m feeling a bit like that, too. Let’s have a long talk tonight.”
A whistle sounded, and they turned to see the men waving them back.
“Oh no, are we trained so easily?” Nola made a face of mock horror.
Then they burst into giggles and hurried back to the wagons.
The afternoon progressed much like the morning. Cinnia saw the same prairie grass, stunted bushes, and rocky soil. Except this time, no mountains provided a shape to focus on in the far distance.
Nic asked her question after question about the traveling life and places the troupe had visited to perform.
As she shared her experiences, she realized that she hadn’t always hated the lifestyle. Only in the past few months had the dissatisfaction grown.
He asked about what made her choose the poems she recited and the inspiration for her costumes.
The conversation was relaxing and enjoyable. Being the object of his attention excited her. She imagined them coming together at the end of their work days—sharing special moments or incidents as they ate supper. This experience was so much better than anything she’d ever read in a novel. When the conversation lulled, she couldn’t help watching his strong hands on the reins or peeking at his handsome profile, knowing this was the man who would vow to be at her side. The man she would turn to for comfort and security.
The sunlight slanted low from behind, casting long shadows of the horses. Ahead, an angular shape broke the softness of nature. “Is that where we’re headed?” Cinnia pointed and shifted her weight, because her bottom was getting numb.
“That’s one of the wayfarer’s stations. But we’ll push on to a more easterly one along the route.” He glanced at her from under the brim of his dark hat. “The farther we ride today, the less we have to travel tomorrow.”
About an hour later, Nic called, “Whoa.” He gestured toward the small shack. “Inside are two sets of bunk beds, a fireplace, and a lantern. We have to bring in your stools and our own bedding. We’ll cook in the fireplace, which will help heat the room.”
What she really wanted was a bath but was too embarrassed to ask. That would mean the men would have to remain outside.
“I can see you want to say something.” He pressed his leg along hers. “Tell me.”
“Could we heat enough water to take baths?”
“Sure.” He tied off the reins and hopped down, gesturing as he talked. “There’s a lean-to for the horses behind the cabin, and a stream runs behind that.” He walked around the wagon to reach her side. “I’m assuming the tub or pans are in Nola’s wagon, right?”
“They are.” She accepted his hand and climbed down, feeling the strain in her calves as she moved. “Funny to hear you call it that. I’m used to thinking of it as our wagon, or the lavender wagon.”
Since Nic was the only person who’d stayed at the cabin more than once, he organized the chores. Soon, the horses were tended, dogs fed and curled up near the fireplace, and the men’s supplies unloaded into the cabin. Cinnia and Nola had decided to spend their last night together in the wagon.
The remainder of the beef stew bubbled at the edge of the fire. On the other side, a pail of water heated.
“Nola, let’s discuss tomorrow.” Torin balanced on the edge of a lower bunk, holding his wrist close to his chest. “I used my hand quite a bit today, and I can feel the exertion. Are you okay to ride horseback tomorrow?”
With a shake of her head, Nola moved to the stack of plates and cups she’d brought and lifted out a packet. “I brought my supply of willow bark. Yes, I’ll be fine to ride.” She moved to the fire to fill the cup. “Will you put Aengus in the harness, or will I ride him?”
“Or I could ride Aengus.” Nic leaned his back against the wall. “Cinnia, I know Ziven and Yasha are bigger than your horses, but do you think you could handle our team?”
Again, a thrill went through her when she heard him refer to her as owning the team. “Sure, I’ve driven our, um, the showman’s wagon lots of times.”
The discussion continued on what was the best combination of horses in the harness as they dished up stew and sliced the crusty round of bread. Nic brandished the crock of creamy butter, producing cheers from the others. For the final course, he uncovered a special treat—a Saskatoon berry pie made with a quart of berries Bertha found while conducting her inventory.
Torin held to his conviction that his horses should go into the harness, and he’d put his saddle on her horse, Captain.
Nic stood and heaved a big sigh. “Well, I guess I’ll just have to do this a day early.” He stomped out of the cabin.
The remaining three cast curious gazes at each other.
The door opened, and Cinnia recognized one of his beautiful saddles as he carried it through the doorway.
“Nola and Torin, this is my wedding present to you. Now, Nola, you’ll have your own saddle for riding Captain.” He carried it to the empty bunk and set it on the bottom bed. “When Torin’s healed, he’ll be able to take you out for moonlit rides.”
Nola gushed her gratitude, gave Nic a quick hug, and then fussed and stroked the smooth leather.
Torin shook his friend’s hand and grinned as he watched Nola’s delight.
Pride filled Cinnia that Nic was thoughtful enough to think of such an appropriate gift that was both beautiful and practical. But a saddle was quite an expensive item. She didn’t have time to ponder the question for long, because chores needed to be finished before the women could bathe. She and Nola went out to the wagon to gather their bathing items—Cinnia found her length of bath toweling she’d overlooked—and hurried back inside.
Bathing in the warm cabin was a luxury compared to the baths they normally took in the middle aisle of the unheated wagon. Cinnia sat near the fire, running a brush through her hair to dry the thick weight as best she could. Watching the firelight sparkle off the lighter, sun-bleached layers was mesmerizing. Those would be dark again by spring, but she’d always like the difference made by the highlights.
Nola’s hair was thinner and took less time, so she bathed last. Today, they had another luxury of fresh water for both baths.
“I forgot to say thanks this morning for you taking care of the dresses. Did they get dry?”
“Dry, but wrinkled.” Nola moved the toweling over her shoulders and squeezed the length of her hair. “But we deal with that all the time.” She stepped out onto Cinnia’s towel and quickly dried off the rest of t
he water droplets.
“That’s true. Did you notice what the church in Sweetwater Springs looked like? Is it big or small?” As the hours ticked down to the ceremony, Cinnia felt doubts creeping in. Was she ready for so much change in such a short time?
A knock sounded on the door. “Ladies, you about done? Nic and I have talked ourselves into washing off the trail dust, too.”
Nola and Cinnia looked at each other and giggled. “Two minutes.” They rushed around to gather their towels and toiletries and slip bare feet into their shoes. Wrapping their capes over their shoulders, they made eye contact then nodded at each other.
Nola opened the door and walked outside. “The cabin is yours, gentlemen.”
Cinnia glanced at Nic and met his gaze. He looked at her outfit, all the way to her shoes, and grinned. The knot of anxiety lessened a bit.
****
Like Nicolai predicted, the rooftops of Sweetwater Springs appeared on the horizon around three o’clock on Saturday afternoon. He reined in the horses and turned to Cinnia. “Torin and I need to go into town to make arrangements for the mustangs while the wedding takes place. This is different than paying for them to be put into a stall at the livery. We’ll be erecting a rope corral within sight of the livery and need to confirm the owner will keep anyone from going near them. Should take less than an hour.”
Cinnia glanced over her shoulder and nodded.
Already, he could identify her nervous gestures, and that wide-eyed look was one. “Do you want to be taken to the minister’s house? I hear Mrs. Norton is a real nice lady.” He didn’t want to come right out and tell her that he needed to get to the mercantile to buy a ring. And he and Torin had agreed they wanted to make sure the minister was available before they changed into clean clothes and the ladies dressed.
“But she’s not an acquaintance, and I wouldn’t want to impose.” She sat straighter and gave a quick nod. “Nola and I will make ourselves ready in the wagon and then wait for your return.”
He leaned close and brushed a kiss on her cheek. “Be back as soon as we can.”
Once he’d delivered Cinnia to the lavender wagon, he and Torin headed to town then split up to accomplish their tasks. Nicolai stopped at the train office for a telegram from his father. Every week for the past six months, he’d been checking in whatever town he was closest to for word that the patent was secure, and he could quit looking over his shoulder. No telegram waited.
Next, he walked down to the mercantile and asked to see available rings. Thankfully, Mr. Cobb was behind the counter, and Nicolai made his selection without being subjected to personal questions. He thought of the discussion he and Torin had about the coming bad weather. “I also need to order two barrels of oats, fifty pounds of flour, twenty pounds of sugar, a half barrel of barley, two cases each of canned corn, peas, green beans, peaches, and apples. A jug of maple syrup, a jug of honey, and two jars of jam, any flavor.” He couldn’t think of anything else, figuring Cinnia would enjoy making a shopping list once she got used to cooking in his kitchen.
Mr. Cobb jotted notes on the pad. “Are you opening a second mercantile in Morgan’s Crossing?” He frowned as he stared across the counter.
“Nope, I’m getting married this afternoon.” Nicolai couldn’t keep the grin off his face. He liked the sound of that—getting married. “Also, I’m preparing for what is being talked about as a hard winter.”
“I heard that, too. I hope it’s not true, but I gotta admit the rumor is great for business.” He scratched his chin. “About ten days to two weeks to receive this shipment. Set it up for delivery by El Davis?”
Nicolai pulled out his wallet and set out eight five-dollar bills as a down payment. “If this doesn’t cover the order and delivery, put the rest on my tab.”
Mr. Cobb scooped up the bills and peered at the front. “Crocker National Bank. All the way from San Francisco, California.”
The sight of the shopkeeper’s inquisitive gaze made Nic realize he should have grabbed gold coins from his lockbox. “Yeah, I visited there earlier this year. Thank you for your help, Mr. Cobb.”
“Always happy doing business with you, Mr. Andrews.”
Torin dashed inside. “Everything’s squared away. Be at the church in thirty minutes.” He stepped up to the counter. “Proprietor, I’ll be needing a wedding ring.”
Twenty minutes later, the two couples stood on the steps of the church.
Nicolai could barely believe the beauty he escorted. The color of her dress deepened her eyes, and she’d put her shiny auburn hair into a fancy twist with ribbons woven through it. His black wool trousers, linen shirt, and string tie barely held a candle.
The doors opened, and a bearded man with white encroaching into the brown looked them over. “Welcome, folks. Come inside.”
Torin and Nola stepped ahead, and Nicolai and Cinnia followed.
“Now, I feel I must appeal to you again about waiting until tomorrow, right after church services.” He crossed his hands over the edges of the worn Bible he held. “I’m sure a few of the townspeople would enjoy seeing handsome young people like yourselves take the matrimonial step. My wife, Mary, loves weddings, and she’ll be sorry her stay with an ill neighbor caused her to miss this.”
Nicolai met Torin’s look and knew what his friend’s response would be. He just shrugged.
“Like I said, Reverend Norton, I, er, my wife and I will need be on our drive north after daybreak.” Torin ran a finger inside his collar. “Without a hotel in town, we’ll be packing ourselves into a showman’s wagon my Nola and her sister traveled in. So, I’m sure you understand our need to be married this afternoon.”
In the haste of the preparations, Nicolai hadn’t thought ahead enough to warn Cinnia about the sleeping arrangements. She hadn’t yet told him what the conditions of their marriage were, but he knew they’d work things out.
“I presume each couple will be the witness for the other. Do you request a separate ceremony, or a combined one?” His blue-eyed gaze scanned the group.
“Individuals ones, Reverend.” Nic gestured for them to walk forward. “Torin and Nola can go first.”
“Oh, I almost forgot.” Cinnia dug into her reticule and pulled out a silver ring. “You’re the older sister so you should be the one to have Mother’s ring.” She hugged Nola, and then stepped back and slipped her hand in the crook of his elbow.
Nola’s eyes shone, and she mouthed a thank you before following the Reverend down the aisle to the front of the church.
Nicolai escorted Cinnia down to the second pew and waited while she sat and arranged her skirts. He only half-heard the voices, because he wanted to listen and hear them as new statements when he stood there with his almost-bride. Her body shook against his arm, and he laid his hand on his thigh, palm up.
Only a few seconds passed before she slid her hand into his and held tight.
He gazed at their clasped hands, seeing the creamy color of her skin against his tanner fingers. Freckles dotted the back of her hand, and he wondered if they covered her whole body. His jaw clamped tight as he fought the direction of those thoughts.
Shoes scuffled on the floor, and Nicolai jerked up his gaze just in time to see Torin and Nola exchange their wedded kiss. He turned to Cinnia and watched her dab a handkerchief under her eyes. “Ready?”
She nodded.
The Reverend smiled at them both and asked for their names.
A stab of guilt flashed when he stated his simply as, “Nic Andrews.” Until he was released from his father’s mandate, he couldn’t declare otherwise.
She cleared her throat. “Cinnia Blossom York.”
The Reverend’s blue eyes looked into Nic’s for several seconds. “Nic, will you receive Cinnia as your wife and bind yourself to her in the covenant of marriage? Will you promise to love and honor her in true devotion, to rejoice with her in time of gladness, and to grieve with her, as long as you both shall live?”
Although he hadn’t been instr
ucted to, he turned so he could look into Cinnia’s shiny eyes as he spoke his pledge. “I vow to fulfill all the stated promises and accept you, Cinnia, for my wife.”
Cinnia listened as the Reverend repeated the marriage questions and then she turned to connect with Nic’s gaze. “I accept you, Nic, as my husband and make those promises with an open heart.”
In a blur, Nicolai slipped on the ring, the Reverend pronounced them married, and he leaned close to seal their vows with a sweet kiss that spoke of so many more to come.
The others started down the aisle.
Nicolai slipped several folded bills from his front pocket and pressed them into the holy man’s hand as he shook it. “Thank you, sir, for accommodating our last-minute plans and for the good works done by your church.”
Then he turned and walked with long strides toward his auburn-haired beauty who waited in the doorway, framed in the last golden light of the day. The impact of what had just transpired hit, and he had to swallow past a lump in his throat. “Shall we go find a camping spot while we still have enough light?”
With a sweeping move, Torin gestured toward the prairie. “I don’t care where we go, as long as it’s—”
“North.” The other three chimed in.
Torin chuckled. “Said that a time or two, have I?”
Later, the embers of the fire glowed red, putting out barely enough heat to reach the two couples where they each sat on blankets on opposite sides of the fire. Nicolai braced his hands behind him and tilted back his head to look at the night sky. “I always feel so small when I look at the heavens.”
“Does anyone know the names of what constellations we’re looking at?” Nola held out a hand to block the firelight as she gazed upward.
“I know some, but—” Torin pushed to a stand and held out his hand. “Dawn comes early. We need to get to bed. Come, my wife.”
Nola giggled and grasped his hand. “I’ll take care of…my…Oh, I’ll be right over there and meet you in the wagon.” She walked off to the clump of bushes the women had used earlier.
Montana Sky_Laced By Love Page 16
