Sweetwater (Birdsong Series) (20 page)

Eve teared up, a bit. “She’s got a cold and we thought it
wouldn’t be prudent to bring her. I miss her so much. This is the first time
we’ve been separated, and even though I know she’s receiving the very best of
care from Ty’s folks, I still worry.” Her face suddenly lit up. “You should
see her around little Peter Bernard. She’s the best big sister a boy could
have.”

“Did I hear you say that little tyke is named Bernard?”
Whiskey asked, dumbstruck.

“Yes, Whiskey. We named him after my two papas. Pete and
you—Bernard. I hope you’re pleased,” Eve said softly.

“Aw, shucks, I’m plum overwhelmed,” the old man gushed.

Blake cleared his throat and announced it was nearly time
for him to get hitched and he’d be right obliged if everyone would find a seat,
because he couldn’t wait a minute longer.

The music started playing and Patty and Cassie ran up the
stairs to fetch the bride. As Blake took his place beside the preacher, all
eyes were trained on the stairs.

On cue, Cassie and Patty proceeded down the stairs with slow
and deliberate steps. Each woman was lovely and graced the room with her
presence, but it was Emily who caused the guests to gasp and the groom to
nearly lose his footing.

In her wedding finery, she resembled a glorious, ethereal
angel, with her white silk dress trailing behind her. She appeared to float
down the gracefully curved staircase. More elegant than a princess, more
beautiful than any flower, Emily stole their breath away. Her blue-black hair,
piled high in curls, shown with a light all of its own and her flawless
alabaster skin shimmered with stardust. The blue of her eyes rivaled any sky
and her lips were pink with love’s purest desire. As she glided across the
floor, Blake noticed her hips swaying slightly and the curve of her bosoms just
barely peeked above the neckline of her gown.

His mouth went stone dry. His eyes felt as if they were
going to fall out of his head. She was magnificent. Emily was stunning . . .
and she was all his.

Carefully lifting her hand and placing it in his own, Blake
decided to recite his own vows. The preacher was surprised, but happy to let
this special couple have their way.

Looking deep into his bride’s shimmering eyes, Blake removed
a ring from his pocket and spoke in a strong and unwavering voice.

“My darling, Emily. I have for you a golden ring, the most
precious of metals. But your love is the most precious element in my life.
And like this circle of gold, it has no end. My love for you, Emmie, is eternal.
I shall love you and care for you, all the days of my life, and I will
rejoice.

“From the first moment I saw you, I knew you were the one
and only woman for me. Thank you for glancing my way. Thank you for
overlooking my many faults. Most of all, thank you for agreeing to be my
wife.”

He placed the ring inside the palm of Emily’s glove and gave
it a slight squeeze. The words he spoke were from his heart, and now he waited
for Emily’s response.

Emily’s voice was still soft and somewhat scratchy, but she
didn’t care. She wanted everyone to know that she was the fortunate one in
this union. Emily looked up and smiled radiantly before speaking.

“Blake, I never really had a choice in loving you. It was
all God’s plan for us. I fought it, but I knew I loved you from the very
beginning. Just being next to you makes my heart sing. You take my breath
away with your smile. I am the lucky one to have found my one true love.
Blake Donovan, you honor me by asking me to marry you and share your life. Thank
you, from the bottom of my heart.”

The preacher dried his eyes and joined the hands of the
handsome couple standing before him.

“It is my privilege to join this man and woman, in holy
matrimony. May these two find happiness in their lives together and may they
remain faithful to their vows. May their years together be rich with the joys
of life and their days be long upon the earth.

“In the eyes of God and the laws of the state of Kansas, it
is my pleasure to declare Dr. Blake Donovan and Emily Falkenrath . . . husband
and wife.”

The crowd stood on their feet applauding, while Blake took
advantage of his new status as husband. He wrapped his arms around Emily’s
tiny waist and pulled her in close and tight. He whispered, “I’m going to kiss
you now, Mrs. Donovan.”

Emily stood on her toes to make it easier for him and
puckered up. Giggling, the happy couple locked their lips for an indecent
length of time, while everyone watched and cheered.

The music started up and a real party quickly ensued.
Everyone was happy and carefree. At long last this couple had tied the knot.
The food was first rate, naturally, and Dora beamed at all the compliments she
received. The musicians offered up a lively selection of tunes causing more
than a few husbands to ask their wives to dance.

Cassie was truly happy for Emily, but her thoughts sometimes
strayed to her corporal. It was at one of these moments, when Emily found her
and put her arms around her small shoulders.

“I know darling,” Emily said. “You’ve been very brave. I
don’t know why things happen the way they do, but God knows. He has a plan for
each and every one of us. One day, a very special man will walk through those
doors, and you will know. He will ease all the pain you have in your heart.
And who knows? He may even be French!”

Cassie had to laugh at that remark. “Thanks, Emily. I’m
going to miss you and the doc.”

“Well, we’ll be here for months. The whole farm needs to be
rebuilt and we can’t do anything until the last snow melts. Nothing’s going to
change for a good long while. Now, let’s go get that baby!”

Blake stepped inside their room, making certain the door was
latched securely. He wanted no chiverie nonsense to disturb his first evening
with his new wife. As his gaze fell upon the vision standing so proudly in the
center of the floor, he froze in awe. This amazing woman numbed his senses and
weakened his body with desire. He felt his knees tremble and his hands shake.
His wife was simply glorious.

Earlier, Emily had insisted upon going to their room to
rest
, she had said. Her friends went up
and
helped
her to rest. She was now
fully prepared and waiting for her husband’s arrival.

Emily greeted her husband wearing only a white gown of the
sheerest fabric. It flowed softly over her body, gently hugging her curves and
leaving very little to the imagination. Her rosy tipped nipples were clearly
defined through the thin silk, as well as just a hint of her dark and luscious
triangle. Long legs graced her form and an incredibly small waist completed
her picture of perfection. Her long and shimmering hair draped casually over
her shoulders, each curl lightly caressing her body and tempting her husband to
touch and feel of its softness. Emily felt like a temptress, a desirable
seductress, and she reveled in it.

“Husband. I’ve been waiting for you,” she purred.

“My God, Emmie…” Blake managed to croak, his heart
threatening to burst out of his chest.

“Yes, darling?” she smiled, coyly.

“You’re breathtakingly beautiful and you leave me
speechless.” His mouth hung open and his eyes glazed over in rapture. Her
extraordinary splendor was beyond his comprehension and he realized she had
been worth the wait.

With weak legs and unsteady steps, he made his way to
Emmie’s side. He was suddenly afraid to place his hands upon such perfection.
What if she disappeared at his touch? Could she be simply an apparition, a
figment of his imagination? But he didn’t need to worry, as Emily helped him
out of his stupor and brought him back to reality. She lifted his hands and
pressed them to her full breasts. His fingers squeezed them lightly as he ran
his thumbs over their darkened tips, causing her to close her eyes and moan
with pleasure. That was all he needed to route him from his musings.

Standing before him was his Emmie, flesh and blood, not some
untouchable being from another world. Blake smiled and his eyes grew dark and
smoldered with desire. He drew her into his arms, his hands roaming up and
down her back, feeling her feminine curves and the roundness of her perfect
bottom. Her breasts were pressed against his chest and he was aware of two
things—he now had the right to make love to this incredible woman . . .
and he was wearing entirely too many clothes.

Swiftly, he put some space between them, his eyes never
leaving her lovely face, while he tore at his shirt. Clothes began to fly
through the air as the lovers impatiently sought the bare skin and the sensuous
touch of the other.

The feel of skin upon skin was ecstasy and their lips sought
out the forbidden places they had for so long yearned. As Blake buried himself
in her lush warmth, he knew he had been heaven blessed. Emily’s body responded
to his every move, arching her back against him, coming up to meet every
thrust. She was a natural and Blake was a good teacher. He guided Emily
gently, into the sensuous and delightful ways of making love. Over and over
again, they shared that intense moment of fulfillment and incredible bliss, as
they reached the pinnacle of desire and trembled with sublime release.

In the early morning hours, Blake was still awake, basking
in the afterglow of their love. He had waited so long to make Emily his and
now it was a reality. He could barely believe his good fortune. Already, he
could feel his body harden again, with just the thought of his luscious bride
cuddled against his side. He had not been surprised to discover the degree of
passion that Emily possessed. She had wanted him as much as he had desired
her.

“Darling? Can’t you sleep?” a sleepy Emily whispered. “I
would think you’d be exhausted,” she giggled. “Are you wanting to do it all
over again?” She was smiling in the dark.

Blake could hardly believe his ears. “Surely you can’t be
serious?”

Emily sat up on one elbow. “What do you mean? Are you
tired of me already?”

“Oh, no, sweetheart.” He grasped her shoulders and ran his
hand down her arm to her hand, bringing her wrapped fingers to his lips. “I’m
just surprised that you’re up for it. I’m afraid I’ve been greedy and I don’t
want to take advantage of you. Aren’t you sore?”

Emily giggled. “A little . . . but in a good way. I tell
you what. Just kiss me. Kiss me lots and kiss me
all
over. Let’s just see what happens.”

Blake certainly wasn’t adverse to kissing and who knew where
it would lead? “Yes, ma’am,” he said enthusiastically. Rolling over on his
side he began to kiss her fingers and worked his way up to the inside of her
elbow. Emily liked that. It made her giggle. Then his lips and tongue
traveled up the side of her neck to stop at her tiny little ear, where he
sucked on her lobe, causing her to moan with desire.

“This is fun,” he sighed.

He loved to bury his face in her sweet smelling hair, while
letting his hands roam freely over her lush body. His kisses stoked the fire
that only he could put out.

Emily could feel his erection throbbing with need of her,
and she was ready. Never had she imagined anything as wonderful as this. Her
heart overflowed with love as she experienced the most incredible climax,
shattering over and over again, into a million fragments of divine pleasure.

*

Dora had finished the first breakfast and decided to make
another breakfast when she heard movement upstairs. No one dared to disturb
the newlyweds, but they had to eat.
Didn’t
they?

Cassie had been warned to stay away from the honeymooners,
and clean the adjacent rooms last. All her work was done, but still there was
no sound coming from Emily’s room. “Golly, Patty. How much sleep do two
people need?” she asked innocently.

Patty laughed at Cassie’s innocence. “Oh, sweetie. They’re
probably really, really tired. Yesterday was a big day for them and Emily is
still recovering.”

Cassie rolled her eyes. “I know. We were
all
there. But I managed to get up at
my regular time.”

“Someday, Cassie, I’m going to remind you of this
conversation and I promise you will laugh at your
naiveté
.”

“French?” Cassie looked wide-eyed with curiosity.

“Yes, dear. Your
innocence
.”

“Do you think I’ll ever go to France, Patty?”

Patty saw the wistful, faraway look in the pretty young
girl’s eyes. It melted her heart. “I’d say to never give up on your dreams,
and if that’s what you wish to do, then don’t let anyone prevent you from doing
it. Now I’ve got to get busy. We need four of our best rooms available today.
Some very important people are coming in on the last train and they have
requested our finest.”

“
Ooh la la”
Cassie
joked. “They must be French.”

Patty pretended to swat Cassie across her bottom as she
hurried by. “Oh Cassie, what would we do without you?” She laughed, but she
meant every word. The young woman had finally dealt with her grief and was
returning to her lighthearted self. It was a welcomed change. Patty was too
often plagued with unhappy memories and a fear of the future, but Cassie’s
humor and lightheartedness kept the darkness away.

Whiskey and Dora marched into the hotel lobby and confronted
Patty.

“Well, I say enough is enough. Two people may be in love
and think they have no need to join the rest of the world, but everyone needs
to eat! I’m gonna fix them up some dinner and carry it up on a tray, and leave
it outside their door. I’ll knock and holler
‘dinnertime’
and run away. If they don’t want to see me, that’s
all right, but I’ll not allow them to starve. A couple cain’t live on love
alone.” Dora crossed her strong arms over her large bosom. “Humpf!” No one
would dare argue with her. Secretly, she was anxious to see the newlyweds.
She loved them both and missed them . . . all hidden away like they were.

Whiskey smiled at his willful wife, knowing she had only the
best of intentions. “I’ll help you carry the tray, sweetheart,” he grinned.
He figured he’d get extra points in the bedroom later, for doing this little
favor for her, now.

*

The last train of the day was due in at any moment.
Everything was ready. Fortunately, for the small staff at the Birdsong, these
new arrivals would be their only guests for a day or so, allowing them to
provide more personal attention.

Patty heard the whistle of the arriving train and quickly
gave the lobby one last perusal, making certain that everything was a nice as
possible. Then her eyes fell upon the hotel guestbook. “Oh, this will never
do,” she uttered. She had intended to bring out the new one. This one was
turned to its last page and it was showing its age. Too many fingers, clean
and not so clean, had turned the pages, signing or making their X. Looking up
toward the door, she knew she had time to run around the corner of the desk, to
her small office, and retrieve the new blue leather registry. Not only was it
of the very finest paper, but each page had a gilded border. “Only the best
for our guests,” she said proudly.

The doors opened and three gentlemen, all of obvious wealth
and importance, strode into the best lodging establishment in town. However,
the primitive opulence failed to impress, as their eyes darted around the
spacious lobby, with an air of disdain. One sniffed and wrinkled his nose as
if something had gone bad under the settee.

“Pardon me, Judge, but are we in the right place? Surely we
have not been booked here? It is so provincial,” whined a tall and very thin
man with small, gold-framed eyeglasses perched on the end of his overly long
nose.

“It doesn’t look that bad to me, dear boy. I believe it is
clean and the owner’s have made an effort. In fact, I believe it has a pioneer
elegance to it,” the white-haired man declared. He looked prosperous and quite
intelligent, with his white mustache and beard. “One must make do with what
one has. This is the Wild West, you know.”

The third man stood frowning, but remained silent . . . that
is until Patty came from around the corner, her glorious red hair curling about
her perfect face and her green eyes flashing fire.
“Mon dieux,”
he gasped, softly.

Patty had overheard the rude comments made by her guests,
and she was ready for a fight. She loved the hotel and they had worked their
fingers to the bone for these three stupid men.

“I understand you have a problem with our hotel, gentlemen.
You find it somehow lacking?” She looked directly at the skinny man with the
eyeglasses. He reminded her of a weasel, and no doubt he was. “I assure you,
sir, this is the finest hotel in all of Kansas, but if you prefer, I can find
you rooms at another establishment. What do you say . . .
sir
?” She gritted her teeth, daring him to say something
infuriating. “I am certain the Tumbleweed or the Hitchin’ Rail will have rooms
available.”

The distinguished white-haired gentleman gave a small bow
and tried to smooth things over with the furious little redhead. Never before
had he seen such fiery beauty and passion, all deliciously wrapped in one tiny
and curvaceous package. She was magnificent.

“Forgive us, madam,” he pleaded. “My friends and I are exceedingly
tired from the lengthy train ride, and are out of sorts. Your hotel is a
pleasant surprise, I assure you. We only long for a comfortable bed. May we
register?”

He looked sincere, Patty thought, as she tried to relax her
shoulders and give the gentleman the benefit of the doubt. The older man was
quite attractive and possessed kind eyes. She was still peeved at their lack
of good manners, but she was somewhat appeased by his sincerity. Naturally,
they were exhausted and needed to sleep. After one of Dora’s fine breakfasts,
they would surely be more courteous and considerably more grateful for their
superb accommodations.

However, his skinny associate was anything but contrite. He
had small, dark eyes and a pointed nose with spectacles perched precariously on
the very end. Patty thought he resembled a weasel’s ugly cousin and had the
manners of a polecat. He felt no need to apologize.

Patty held her head high and said in her most proper voice,
“Of course, sir. If you and your friends would sign our register, I will get
you your keys. If you require anything, you need but ask. We pride ourselves
on our fine cuisine, prepared by a master chef, and our excellent service.”
She smiled slightly, picturing Dora in a tall chef’s hat. Perhaps she had
stretched the truth slightly

Glancing at the register she noticed the distinguished
looking white-haired man was Judge Bartholomew Hastings, and the weasel was
Thomas Frances Harrington, Esq.. The third man hadn’t yet signed his name; in
fact, he had turned his face away from Patty and was looking anxiously toward
the door, shifting his weight from one foot to another, while nervously mopping
the perspiration from his forehead.

This was most peculiar, Patty thought. “Excuse me, sir.
Would you care to sign the register?” She raised her voice several notches to
gain his attention, but he continued to ignore her. “Sir? You must sign your
name.”

Turning toward the older man, Patty asked, “Pardon me, Judge
Hastings, but is your friend hard of hearing?” She asked this in all
seriousness.

“No, no. I don’t know why he is acting so peculiar.” The
judge seemed genuinely puzzled. “Philippe. Sign the woman’s book and let’s go
upstairs. Andre can fend for himself,” he exclaimed, clearly out of patience.