by Kit Morgan
Ephraim straightened. Good grief, had he been leaning in for a kiss? “Yes?”
“The Haverdashes – that is, Bertram and Petunia – along with Mercy and myself, think it a splendid idea if you marry in the town square. The weather this time of year is agreeable, we could decorate the gazebo, and I’m sure Pastor Luke would agree it would be a nice change from the norm.”
Ephraim and Beryl stared at him. “What?” Beryl was the first to say. “Are you planning our wedding for us?”
“Of course,” Mayor Vander said happily.
Ephraim shook his head and rubbed his chin. “Mayor, we appreciate your efforts, but Beryl and I haven’t decided if we will get married.”
“You haven’t?”
“It’s true,” Beryl agreed. “We might not suit, and neither of us wants to put the other through any further distress.”
“Quite right,” Ephraim added. “Very wise, don’t you think?”
“Er, well, yes, I suppose …,” the mayor stammered.
“We knew you’d agree,” Ephraim said. “And so you don’t put any undue stress on yourself or others, we will let you know our decision in, say, two weeks’ time?”
“Oh … well … I …”
“After all,” Beryl said. “It is, as you said, the wise thing to do.”
“Did I say that?” Mayor Vander asked, confused.
Ephraim and Beryl exchanged a smile. “Yes,” they said at once.
“Well, if I said that, it must be right.” Mayor Vander scratched his head and left to rejoin the others.
As soon as he was gone, Beryl’s hands flew to her mouth. “Oh, my goodness.”
Ephraim smiled gently. “See? Teamwork.”
She nodded without removing her hands.
“Let’s not let Katie’s father get away with anything more,” Ephraim said in all seriousness. “He’s caused enough trouble.”
“Indeed he has.”
“Will your parents be upset when they hear what’s happened?”
“That I’ve come to Oregon, or that I’ve come as a mail-order bride?”
“Either. Both.”
“They’ll wonder what’s going on. I must telegraph them and let them know all is in hand.”
“Let’s do that tomorrow. You don’t want them to worry.”
Beryl looked downcast. “And I owe them an apology. I can only imagine what Mr. Haverdash told them.”
“As can I.” Ephraim took her hand. “Come, I’ll escort you home.”
She gasped. “Oh, no. I’m not giving that man any more ammunition.”
Ephraim smiled. “Don’t worry, we won’t be alone. We’ll take Betsy and Cecil with us.”
She sighed in relief. “Well, all right. Besides, I wouldn’t mind getting away from Katie’s father for a while. I just hope he doesn’t come banging on my door in the middle of the night.”
“He won’t. I gave him strict instructions to take another small dose of laudanum before he goes to bed. He’ll sleep like a baby.”
Her eyes widened as she tried not to laugh.
He shrugged. “Not necessarily for that. With his high blood pressure, he could use a regular sleep aid.”
“That much is true.” She nodded and licked her lips, and his breath caught. “Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For looking after him, even if he is horrible.”
“It’s my job.” Ephraim offered her his arm.
Beryl smiled as she took it and let him take her to inform their hosts they were departing.
“I’ve never seen lemonade be so stubborn,” Betsy was saying as they went down the walk. “You’d think it would be fine, but it lifts the color out and if you don’t take care of it quick …”
Beryl smiled. Betsy and Cecil walked behind her and Ephraim, holding hands. A part of her wished Ephraim would take her hand, but that would be silly. Wasn’t it enough to have her arm linked with his? But hand-holding said something different. It said you were together.
Did she want to be together with Ephraim Stone? He was certainly attractive, intelligent, attentive and forthright. He also wasn’t interested in her. She did her best not to sigh at that.
“It’s a lovely evening, don’t you think?” he asked her.
“Made lovelier by leaving the Vanders’ home.”
He smiled. “Come now – Mayor Vander and his wife aren’t that bad.”
“I wasn’t referring to them and you know it.”
He glanced at her. “Don’t let him get to you. It will do you no good to stew over the man’s abhorrent behavior.”
“Aren’t you?”
“No. I do not stew. Bad for the heart.”
She laughed. “Neither do I, now that you mention it.”
“I can see that. You boil.”
“That’s true.” She laughed again and glanced over her shoulder. “Betsy and Cecil have stopped.”
“Of course.”
Her face twisted up in confusion. Were they looking at something? There was nothing special about the street they were on – some nice houses and lovely trees, but nothing out of the ordinary. “What is it?”
Ephraim was smiling. “They’re giving us a chance to get ahead so I can steal a kiss.”
She gasped. “What? They’re supposed to be chaperoning.”
His shoulders shook with laughter. “Exactly.”
“Oh, my goodness,” she said as they started walking again. “Is that why they were so happy to come along? To see you kiss me?”
“Betsy likes a good kiss as much as the next woman.”
“Yes, but she’s not the one getting kissed … oh.” Beryl looked and, sure enough, the older couple was kissing. “Oh, my.”
Ephraim smiled, patted her hand and they were off again.
“Are you sure we shouldn’t be chaperoning them?”
“No, they’re fine. Besides, they’ll catch up eventually.”
“Eventually? What happens when they’re supposed to be truly chaperoning?”
“They are. But they don’t know we’re not really …” He waved between them.
She heard a hint of disappointment in his voice and her belly flipped. Or did she just imagine it? Maybe Katie was right, and the man did like her a little.
It wasn’t long before they’d reached the hotel, but Beryl could no longer find Betsy and Cecil. “We lost them.”
Ephraim smiled. “No, they’re around somewhere. Probably canoodling in a dark corner …”
She giggled. “You’re horrible.”
“No, I just know Betsy and Cecil.” He let go of her arm and faced her. “Beryl …”
Her lips parted and her heart raced. Oh, good heavens, she wanted him to kiss her! She bit her lip. “Hmm?”
He leaned toward her. “I’m going to help you …”
“Ephraim?” Her heart was thundering in her chest. Maybe she liked him a little too.
Ephraim came closer and her lips parted. An obvious invitation, and he took it. His lips were soft, gentle. He took his time and, as this was her first, she let him. And enjoyed it.
But it wasn’t just a kiss. This was something else, something Beryl couldn’t explain. Warmth seeped into her bones, into her core. She couldn’t pull away even if she wanted to. And by the time he did, she was lost.
Chapter Eleven
Ephraim stared at Beryl, eyes wide. “I shouldn’t have done that.”
She nodded but wasn’t sure what she was agreeing with. No, he shouldn’t have kissed her. No, she shouldn’t have reacted the way she did. But her body was still wrapped up in whatever spell he’d cast, and she had no idea where her voice, let alone her common sense, had fled.
“Well, well,” Cecil said. “Here you are. We thought you went down Maple Street.”
Ephraim shook his head, his eyes still on Beryl’s. “No, we’ve been right here.”
“Cecil, you have a horrible sense of direction,” Betsy said. “We ended up going down Maple.”
E
phraim looked at them. “You mean to tell me you can’t find the hotel?”
“I never go there,” Cecil said innocently.
“Me neither,” added Betsy. “But that don’t matter, you two are getting along just fine.”
Ephraim smiled. “So we are.” He looked at Beryl, and she felt her heart leap in her chest. If a look could do that, what would happen if he kissed her again? “I should say goodnight.” He looked at his hands on her arms.
At least Betsy and Cecil hadn’t caught them in a tight embrace. That would only add to their belief that she and Ephraim were courting. But … they weren’t. And the kiss, other than one of the most delightful experiences of her life, was …
“Something wrong?” he asked, breaking into her thoughts.
Everything, she wanted to say, but still couldn’t speak. Did he steal a kiss? She felt as if she’d given him one. And he’d given her a sense of wonder, enjoyment and pure bliss. Had he received the same?
“I think I’d better escort you inside.”
“Mm-hmm – you do that, Doctor Stone,” Betsy said. “Cecil and I will be right here waiting.”
Ephraim smiled. “I’m sure you will. I’ll be right down.”
“Take your time,” Betsy drawled. “We’re in no hurry.” She went to a bench and sat. “C’mon Cecil, have a seat.”
He joined her, putting his arm around her. “Run along, you two.”
Ephraim chuckled, wrapped Beryl’s arm through his and ushered her into the hotel. When they reached her door he asked, “Do you have your key?”
She held up her reticule. Good grief, the man had rendered her speechless!
He reached into her little bag, pulled out the key and unlocked the door. Before he opened it, however, he tucked his finger under her chin and brought her face up to his. “Say something, Beryl. You’re starting to worry me.”
She opened her mouth. “I … I should go in,” she whispered.
He smiled at her. “Yes, you should.” He let his hand drop and handed her the reticule. “We’ll talk tomorrow.”
She nodded. She still didn’t understand what just happened. Her father always did say she was more sensitive than most, felt things more deeply. It was the reason she was so stubborn, a trait she inherited from both her parents.
“Until tomorrow,” he said, his eyes still on her.
Beryl nodded. They’d shared something special and they both knew it. Now what would happen? She had no idea. But she didn’t want him to go.
Still, he did, turning as if he was being pulled by some unseen force, his eyes not leaving hers until he could look at her no more. Then he slowly walked down the hall, stopping once to wave her into her room.
She closed her eyes, her hand on the doorknob and turned it. If she kept watching him she wasn’t sure she’d ever go in.
After closing the door behind her she took a deep breath. “Oh, my …” She cleared her throat, went to the dresser where there was a water pitcher and poured herself a glass. She drank it, wiped her lips, then touched them and knew that one kiss had changed her. She didn’t know how or why, only that she was different somehow.
Did Katie feel this way when Jace kissed her for the first time? She knew Katie had never been kissed before coming to Independence. Nor had Beryl. Should she ask her? If her mother were here, she’d ask her about first kisses. She’d told Beryl about how she’d almost kissed Beryl’s father outside a barn in some little town in eastern Oregon …
“Wait a minute – Clear Creek! Ephraim’s from there.” Would he know her father?
He wanted her to send her father a message saying she was fine but had done something a little foolish. But the minute Ephraim found out who he was, would he suddenly be more interested in her family’s wealth than in her? Or was he too young to remember when her parents were there? How long ago had Mother and Father met? Let’s see … it was the summer of 1879. Mother had traveled to Clear Creek with Aunt Bella, Uncle Calvin, Calvin’s mother and her new husband – and wasn’t the husband the sheriff of Clear Creek once?
Beryl paced her room as she recalled details she hadn’t thought about in years. Ephraim had to have been a boy at the time from the look of him – maybe five to ten years old when her parents met in his hometown. Considering all the hullabaloo at the time, he might remember them.
“The chicken.” Yes, there was a madcap search for some silly rooster. “Only it wasn’t a rooster!” she could hear her mother say. “It was a rare bird.” To think that her parents were brought together by an escaped exotic bird that terrorized the countryside always made her laugh. But now she frowned – who could forget that? Hadn’t her parents chased the bird into a cave and gotten themselves lost? And what about the fight between Uncle Calvin and her father during a picnic? Had Ephraim attended? She didn’t know.
She sat on the bed. Who could forget all that, especially with an entire town there to remind you? “Great. He’ll know.”
Beryl sighed. She liked Ephraim. After the kiss they’d shared, she liked him a lot. She’d never had a man catch her eye before, but this one had her full attention. Still, he already knew her surname. If he found out she was one of those Bransons, that could ruin everything. It figured. The first man she becomes interested in, who likes her for who she is as a person and not her father’s bank accounts and vast holdings. But … he might already know about them.
She washed her face, changed into her nightclothes, braided her hair and brushed her teeth, then crawled into bed and stared at the ceiling. She hadn’t heard a peep from next door yet and wondered if the Haverdashes were still at the Vanders’. Not that she cared at this point – she had bigger worries. Like how she’d tell Ephraim who she was when all was said and done.
And when would that be? She wasn’t sure. She wanted to make sure Katie was okay, wanted Katie and her parents to part peacefully. She wanted to let her own parents know she was alive and well and would head home soon. But she also wanted to be courted by Ephraim Stone, which would preclude heading home soon … or possibly ever.
“Oh, how do I get into these things?” she muttered, turning to her side. “It was just one kiss.” But oh, what a kiss. Was that how all first kisses went? Or was it as special as she thought?
She flopped onto her back again. “I’ll ask Katie.” Or maybe Betsy. She obviously knew a lot about this sort of thing or she never would have allowed Ephraim to kiss her in the first place.
She smiled and closed her eyes. Now that she had a plan, maybe she could fall asleep before the Haverdashes returned. If not, she might have to figure out how to get a spoonful of laudanum from Petunia next door. No, she didn’t want to resort to that. It would mean having to see Mr. Haverdash as well. What a horrid thought.
Beryl started counting sheep instead.
Ephraim bid goodnight to Cecil and Betsy as he left the hotel, then headed home. Betsy had given him a parting wink – she thought he was sure to be standing before Pastor Luke soon. But that wasn’t the case. He wasn’t sure what was, truth be told. He shouldn’t have kissed Beryl but couldn’t stop himself. It was as if something deep inside of him took over, willing his lips on hers. He was drawn to Beryl Branson like a moth to flame. Now what would he do?
He got home, went inside and sat on his bed, still puzzling. He’d just met Beryl, yet felt as if he’d known her all his life. They might as well have grown up together. He’d heard of love at first sight, of course, knew folks in Clear Creek it had happened to, and people like his parents who married quickly and fell in love shortly thereafter. But neither had ever described anything close to what he experienced with Beryl in that single kiss.
Did anyone he knew experience this? Maybe someone in the Cooke family – there were enough of them, including his own mother (actually she was a Sayer, a cousin of the Cookes). And there had been others in Clear Creek – the blacksmith turned prince consort, and old Doc Drake – but kissing wasn’t what folks talked about when they brought them up. And the mysterious
Scotsman … wait a minute, hadn’t he seen him at Jace and Katie’s wedding? No, he couldn’t have. The last person he spoke with before leaving the church was Mr. Markhel.
“Oh boy, Markhel.” What would he do about that job offer now? He’d been interested, and had no problem with the stipulation that he couldn’t marry if he held the position. Well, he hadn’t before tonight. And Mr. Markhel was almost as strange and elusive as his dilemma. The man had been visiting Clear Creek for years, and now was in Independence recruiting men for some government organization. But who was he, really?
Ephraim sighed as he prepared for bed. He couldn’t get Beryl out of his head, and wondered if he’d have trouble getting to sleep. Maybe he was more ready for marriage than he thought. But was she as interested in him as he was in her? And doggone it, how could he be after a single kiss? But he was, there was no denying it. Something had awoken when his lips touched hers, something primal. He wanted her far beyond a man’s need to bed a woman. If he didn’t claim her as his own, he might go mad. Why else would he be pacing his bedroom like a caged animal?
He stopped in the middle of the room and glanced around. “What am I doing?” He went to the window, looked at the starry sky and recalled one of Clear Creek’s famous first kisses. The Italian woman and Mr. Van Cleet’s assistant … what was his name? He couldn’t recall, but he knew the story. One of the Weaver men went loco when his wife’s younger sister (he couldn’t remember her name either) got caught kissing … no, that wasn’t right – when the man involved admitted he’d kissed her. A fistfight followed, it involving the Weavers and all.
But what made it interesting, and why folks still talked about it, was that the other man defended his right to kiss the lady with a skill no one there had seen before in anyone but the Weaver boys. The Weaver finally landed the other man in the dirt, but it took a while. Would he be willing to defend the kiss he shared with Beryl?
Ephraim smiled. Of course he would. But who’d oppose him? Mr. Haverdash was pushing them toward marriage, hoping it would put Beryl in her place. But he didn’t want Beryl hurt in anyway, nor Mr. Haverdash thinking he could manipulate people and get away with it. No, he’d have to do this the right way. And that meant asking Beryl if she would let him court her.
