by West, Everly
His eyes closed and he squeezed her hand. "Mother died from a miscarriage. Father was off doing his political stuff in Cheyenne and he only came home every several months. The last time he came home, she got pregnant. About three months into the pregnancy, she began to bleed."
Tears welled up in his eyes and she could see the memory caused him great pain.
"Grandpa rode into town to fetch the doctor, but by the time he returned, she’d bled to death. At the time, I was only eight and losing my mother crushed me."
"Oh my, I'm so sorry," Cora said, reaching out and stroking his face with her hand. "Your mother, she died so young, when you were just a child."
"Yes," he said, taking her hands and pulling her closer to him.
"It's been hard to return to Riverbend, but this time... This time, you, Cora Moonlite made being here better."
Warmth radiated through her and she smiled. "Your grandparents’ ranch is like my family’s, only with less drama and a lot more happiness."
A smile crossed his face.
August sank into the chair next to her, she felt the mood shift and he leaned into her and kissed her, his lips moving over hers, his hands reaching up and gripping her cheeks to draw her close to him. While his mouth roamed over hers, his tongue pressed inside her lips, creating a firestorm as she moaned deep in her throat.
August shifted his body toward her, his weight pressing against her. Abruptly, she heard the cracking of wood and her wooden chair broke sending them both plummeting to the ground with August landing on top of her.
Their lips came apart and they began to laugh hysterically.
"Are you all right? I didn't hurt you, did I?" August asked lying on top of her, his chest pressing into her breasts.
"No, I'm fine. We've got to stop kissing. We're breaking too much furniture."
Tears rolled down her cheeks as she laughed at August. Finally, she stopped and gazed at him. "You're the first man to kiss me. If anyone else ever kisses me, I'll expect to hear wood cracking."
He raised and stared into her eyes, his blue ones darkening. "Am I wrong not to want another man kissing you?"
Her heart slammed in her chest. Was this what she wanted? Was he saying he didn't want to end the marriage?
Before she could ask him what he meant, the wind slung the door open, crashing it against the wall. "Sounds like a storm is blowing in, we better go."
They walked outside and she could see dark blue clouds approaching from the west.
"Looks like a blizzard is coming in. Let's go," he said helping her up on her horse.
Five minutes more and she would have had the answers she needed. Did he not want the marriage to end?
Chapter 8
A week later, his grandfather was still not doing much better and his grandmother sent him and Cora into town to pick up supplies and ask the doctor to visit.
They stopped by the mercantile to check on the mail. Though now, he almost didn't want to receive the information from his friend. Now he wanted the marriage to continue and for him to tell them too bad, they were married until death did they part.
While she waited in the wagon, he went inside.
"Anything for the Thompsons or the Moonlites?"
The lady behind the counter thumbed through her stack of envelopes. "Yes, are you August Moonlite?"
"Yes, I am. Do you know a Cora Moonlite?"
"That's my wife. We'll be staying with my grandparents, the Thompsons, until spring."
"Here you go," she said, handing him several letters and a package. A letter from his lawyer friend, one from his father, and a large wrapped envelope for Cora.
Anxious, he walked outside to reach the wagon where Cora sat waiting. "You received a package."
"Me?" she said stunned. "Who from?"
"Don't know," he said, opening the one from his father. It was the same stuff. The same line about how he only wanted the best for his son and he would help his career in politics grow. Nothing new in that correspondence.
With delight Cora opened the box, gasping with happiness. "Jennie sent me a new fashion magazine." A tear rolled down her cheek as she pulled out a handwritten note. "Oh, how I miss my sisters. Even Hattie our little troublemaker. Thank goodness, they found Kelly and she's getting married. I'll have to send her a letter."
As she continued reading the missive, she shrieked. "My sister sneaked me the acceptance notice. I've been accepted into the New York City Fashion Design School for ladies. I'm to report no later than June 1. They go on to say they are very impressed with my designs and are looking forward to working with me."
As if in shock, she turned toward August. "Now what do I do? We're still married."
Her words were like a sword stabbing him in his heart. For some reason, these last few weeks, spending time at his grandparents, he hoped she might come to care for him. That maybe she didn't want the marriage to end, and yet, it was obvious she was determined to reach the big city and attend school.
"Congratulations," he said, trying to sound excited while inside his chest splintered into a thousand shards of glass and he didn't understand why. "Guess we better get this marriage mess straightened out, so you can go to New York."
For a moment, she stopped and looked at him, her eyes drawing together, confused and unsure.
Part of him wanted to take her in his arms and beg her not to go, but she had to come to the conclusion on her own.
The envelope from his friend he'd been delaying, he opened, his stomach tightening with pain. Quickly he scanned the words, his heart breaking with every word. "Well, nothing here that will help us."
Folding the parchment, he put it in his pocket, determined to burn the missive once he reached home. The letter gave detailed instructions on how to end his marriage to Cora. Pain radiated from his stomach, his fists clenching together as he tried to hide his disillusionment, his frustration. No longer did he want their union to be annulled.
"He gave you no ideas on how to obtain the annulment?"
"Nope, said basically we're stuck," he said lying, knowing if she ever read the correspondence, they could have the union dissolved in about thirty days. In plenty of time for her to reach New York. Plenty of time for her to achieve her dreams while he remained here brokenhearted.
But misleading her wasn't right and now he didn't have a clue what to do. Why hadn't he been honest? All he knew was that he didn't want her to leave.
* * *
On Saturday night, Cora worked to make certain the wedding dress was ready to take to Martha. As her and Grandma put on the final beading, she looked at the beautiful gown in awe. Never would she have a dress like this one. When her marriage to August was annulled, she didn't think she would ever marry again.
"You're about the same size as Martha. I think you should try it on. We can check to see if the bodice fits right and the hem is correct," Bessie said.
One of her prettiest designs, so yes, she was taking credit for the beautiful gown. They started with a simple wedding pattern and turned it into one of the newer, more fashionable looks. The thought of trying it on, sent a chill through Cora.
How she wanted to wear this dress and claim it as her own, but it belonged to someone else.
"All right," she said, carrying the garment to her and August's room.
August sat talking to his grandfather, who was still in bed. The man had yet to recover from the illness that held him in its grip. The doctor didn't give much hope and only said he was fading.
Every evening, August went in and spent time with the man he loved and when he came out, he always appeared a little down.
Standing in the bedroom, she gazed in the mirror amazed at the gown's perfect fit. The trim skirt, the layer of tulle, the beading, it was the most magnificent gown she'd ever created. And she felt like a princess in the dress.
Unable to reach the top buttons, she lifted the dress and hurried down the stairs. The train flowed out behind her, the skirt had a stylish bustle in the back.<
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When Bessie saw her, she covered her face with her hands. "Dear, you would have been such a beautiful bride."
Warmth surged through Cora and she wished her wedding to August had not been rushed. After everything that happened, her mother had robbed her of a real ceremony, one with meaning.
August came out of his grandparents’ room and gasped. "Cora."
He walked to her side, his eyes taking in every aspect of the gown. "Did you design this?"
"Yes, but your grandmother and I added to an existing pattern. The pattern called for a full skirt, but I went with a more modern touch with the narrow waist and bustle."
"Stunning, absolutely beautiful," he said as he tilted his head and smiled. "I'd meet you in front of the church."
"But you're already married to me," she said softly, her heart aching with the knowledge that soon she would leave him and go to New York. Soon their marriage would end and that left a bittersweet taste in her mouth.
"Our wedding didn't feel real," he replied.
"No, just a ceremony neither one of us wanted," she said.
A frown crossed his brow, and for a minute, she imagined he wanted to say more. She wanted him to say more. At that moment, if he said let's have a church wedding, she would have said yes. Instead, he glanced at his grandmother.
“Grandmother, you're right. She's very talented."
"After the women in Doggett learn she designed this dress, she's going to be busy."
Did they really believe her skills were good enough to open her own shop?
"What?" Cora said. "What are you talking about."
"Cora, dear, if you want to create clothes, you don't need to go to New York. Do it right here in Doggett. There is no dressmaker in town. This wedding gown is going to give you lots of clients asking you to make them a dress."
Could she be happy designing dresses for women here rather than going to New York and receiving training? If their marriage ended, she would be leaving and going back to Laramie. The idea of moving home with her mother and father convinced her that couldn't happen.
No, if there was the possibility that maybe, just maybe, her and August had a chance at real happiness and love, then she would consider staying. No, she would not return to Laramie.
Even as a member of the ladies’ Laramie club, she wanted no association with that hen house.
"Let's not jump to conclusions. Let's hear what Martha says tomorrow and after the wedding what everyone else has to say about the dress."
August stepped up to her, his fingers caressing the side of her face. "Now I know how my wife would look like in a wedding dress."
"Yes," she said breathless, wondering how she could continue to live with this man each day without touching him. Her body clamored for his and when she looked at him, it seemed like their souls were united. How could that be? Sure, they kissed, but nothing more, and yet she longed for more.
* * *
Cora had never felt more nervous in all her life. After the services on Sunday, Bessie and she took the wedding dress to Martha's home for her to try on. August had stayed home with his grandfather. Why did she feel like her future rested on this design? Why did she want so badly for this woman to like what she'd done?
It didn't matter. After all, she had been accepted into the fashion school, she would be going to New York this summer and this meant nothing. And yet their approval did matter. For some reason, her heart pounded in her chest and her stomach was so tightly clenched, she wanted to throw up.
"Let me try it on. My mother will help me with the buttons," Martha said.
Oh, how Cora longed to be in there when she first put the gown on. Longed to witness her initial reaction.
"When you're ready, come out so we can check the length," Cora said, her tongue stuck in the back of her throat. The women disappeared behind a bedroom door.
"What if she hates the dress," Cora said, gazing at August’s grandmother, wringing her hands. "What if it's all wrong and nothing like she wanted."
The older woman reached out and grabbed Cora's hand. "Deep breaths. Everything is going to be all right."
As Cora swallowed the sickening nausea in her stomach that threatened to overwhelm her, she squeezed Bessie's hand, grateful the woman had come with her.
Behind the closed door, they could hear the women talking, their voices raising and lowering, but she couldn't understand what they said.
"What was I thinking when I thought I could do this. They are still in there, she must hate it," Cora said her chest tightening with unshed tears.
"Stop, Cora, everything is fine," she said. "You're doubting yourself and you shouldn't be."
But she had every reason to question herself. Maybe her mother was right, her dreams were those of a child. Maybe she wasn't a good a seamstress.
The door opened and the young woman stepped out looking beautiful, the gown fitting her exactly as it should. Moving as quickly as the wedding gown would allow, she came over to Cora and hugged her tightly. "Thank you," she said, tearing up. "Somehow you saw what I wanted and created the dress of my dreams."
Cora grabbed her arms and pushed her back, staring at how everything fit. "Really, you're happy? This is what you wanted?"
"Yes," Martha said laughing. "The gown is perfect. Stylish with a hint of traditional and the beading. How many hours did it take you to sew all these tiny beads on the bodice? What can I say? It's just gorgeous."
Martha's mother stood off to the side gazing at her daughter, with tears in her eyes. "Such a gorgeous gown. If we had traveled to Cheyenne, we would not have found anything near as beautiful."
Stunned, Cora held her hands up to her face and shook her head. "You ladies don't know how afraid I was you wouldn't like it."
Kneeling, she checked the hem. "What shoes are you going to wear? We will need to check the length with the heels."
The women all looked at her and laughed and the bride's mother sighed. "Cora Moonlite, you are very detailed seamstress. Once the ladies in town see Martha's dress, you're going to be busy designing lots of clothes."
She glanced up at the woman sheepishly. "Really?"
"Yes, in fact, I would like to order a gown for myself for the wedding. After seeing my daughter’s, I think the mother of the bride deserves a new dress as well."
Later, when Bessie and Cora walked out of the home, Cora glanced at August’s grandmother, shaking her head. "Thank you, you were right. I can open a ladies’ shop here in Doggett where I create dresses for the women. Only now that I've been accepted to that school, I don't know what to do."
"Follow your heart, Cora," Bessie said. "Always follow your heart."
* * *
Sunday evening, August went in to spend time with his grandfather like he'd been doing every day since the man had taken ill. When he walked in, his grandfather's eyes were half closed, his breathing heavy. "Grandpa?"
The older man jerked awake. "August, I'm so glad you came home."
What was he saying? August had been home for weeks. Had he forgotten? Fear spiraled through August as he stared at the man he loved, knowing he was growing weaker.
"Me too, Grandfather. I regret not coming back sooner. It's great to be home."
His grandfather gave a weak smile. "Years ago, your grandmother didn't want to move out to that old cabin with me. Once she came here, she never went back. A good woman, she's been a blessing to stay by my side."
"Oh, I think she kind of likes you, Grandpa." The man's chest rose and fell as he struggled to breathe. August had a bad feeling.
The older man sighed. "I'm not going to be here in this world for long."
Panic gripped August, twisting his stomach, and though he tried to say comforting words, he feared the man knew the truth. "Stop saying that. You're going to get better. Whatever this is has weakened you, but you're going to get stronger."
"Son, I wish that were so, but every day my body grows weaker. The Lord is calling me home. So, listen to me," he said gasp
ing, yet his tone demanded attention, "there are things I need to say to you."
August felt his heart slam in his chest. This couldn't be happening. They had just reconnected, and he didn't want to say goodbye to this man he loved so very much. The man he’d admired most in his life.
"First off, promise me you'll make certain your grandmother is taken care of. With over fifty years with that woman, she is my main concern. Don't leave her out here all alone on this ranch. If you decide this life is not for you, that's fine, but move your grandmother to town or with you."
Recognizing his grandfather needed to know before he left everything would be all right, he listened intently to his wishes.
"Yes, sir, you know I will," he said, his chest aching with hurt. For twenty-five years, this man had always been there and now he was dying.
"Second, you're a grown man with a beautiful wife, but if you don't love ranching or the Riverbend, sell it. Don't feel an obligation to hang onto my dream. Whatever you do in life, I want you to be happy."
"Yes, Grandfather," August said, trying to hold back the tears that threatened to fall. These were his last minutes, possibly hours with this man.
"You and Cora could make this your home, but first you two need to decide if you're going to stay together. Make the decision and move on and if that means leaving Riverbend, it's all right."
"Grandpa, I think I've fallen in love with her and if I had my way, we'd remain married. But I don't know how she feels. She still wants to go to New York."
The older man took his hand in his and squeezed.
"Just keep showing her you care. She's a smart woman. She'll figure things out in due time."
The old man coughed, and the blood seemed to drain from his face, leaving him pale. Fear filled August.
"One last thing. There's a safe hidden in the wall behind that picture. The combination is our wedding date. Inside, you'll find the deed to the ranch, our marriage license, and a quarter million dollars. Half is yours, half is your grandmother’s. Make me proud in how you spend that money."
