by Anna Schmidt
And seconds later, she heard the judge start to utter the final words, “By the power vested in me, I now—”
She was in Nick’s arms before the judge finished. They were kissing, and there was music again, livelier than before. Music that made her want to dance and laugh and share this incredible joy she felt with the world. Clarissa clapped in time to the music, and Nick lifted Grace and spun her around. He was laughing as well, and the expression on his face mirrored what she was feeling inside. They were married. From this day forward, they were one.
After he set her down, Nick shook hands with the judge but still held Grace close with his arm around her waist. Elton had shed his robe and was looking far less intimidating in shirtsleeves and a vest. He was even smiling.
Clarissa kissed first Grace and then Nick on the cheeks. “There’s more,” she said with a twinkle. “After all, what’s a wedding without a reception to follow? Come with me.”
“But we really should start—”
Clarissa linked arms with her husband and led the way to the door. “Resistance is futile,” the judge warned.
The room where Clarissa had fixed Grace’s hair had been transformed. More candles had been lit and the table set with a small cake and four crystal glasses. Next to it was a stand that held an ice bucket and a bottle of champagne. Clarissa took the bottle from the ice and handed it, dripping, to her husband. “You open, and I’ll pour,” she instructed.
“Beware of what you’ve just stepped into, my friend,” the judge teased Nick as he pulled the cork from the bottle with a satisfying pop. “Clarissa was never this bossy when we were courting. All sweetness and smiles, she was.”
Nick laughed. “Clarissa was always this bossy, and you know it. It was her spirit that got you hooked in the first place.”
When they each had champagne in hand, they raised their glasses. “To Grace and Nick,” the judge said. “May their life together be filled with adventure and challenge and above all, the abiding love they will need to see them through times of sorrow and times of joy.”
“To Grace and Nick,” Clarissa chorused.
It was not the wedding she had imagined, but it was one Grace would certainly never forget. She regretted the absence of her parents and siblings, but perhaps one day, she and Nick could travel back to Missouri and have a small celebration there.
The guitarist’s mother and sister cut the cake and served each of them a thin slice. As they ate, Grace turned to Clarissa and her husband. “Judge Brill, I’d—”
“It’s Elton, Grace. Nick is our dear friend, and now we look forward to getting to know you as well.”
“See, I told you,” Clarissa added, poking her husband in the ribs. “Once he gets out of that robe, he’s really just regular folks.”
Nick set his plate on the table. “Well, Grace and I need to get started back.” On their way to Santa Fe, he had pointed out a spot where they could spend the night under the stars and the rolled canvas and other supplies he’d loaded onto the buggy for just that purpose.
“Nope.” This time, it was Elton who protested their intention to leave. He took out his gold pocket watch and checked the time. “The way I see it, you have a good eight hours before dawn, time enough for you to get Grace back to her job and you on your way to California. Clarissa and I have a wedding present for you.” He actually winked at his wife. “Follow me.”
On his way out the door, Elton plucked his suit coat and a derby hat from a hall tree inside his chambers, then led the way across the plaza and into the elaborate lobby of the renowned La Casita Hotel—another Harvey property. “Wait here,” he said as he and Clarissa approached the desk.
“What’s going on?” Grace whispered.
Nick must have had some idea, given the way he was grinning. “I think we’re about to spend our wedding night in one of your employer’s finest establishments instead of camping by the creek,” he replied as he watched the desk clerk hand his friends a key.
“But what if someone sees me—us?”
“No one knows us here, Grace, and we’ll be gone before first light.”
Clarissa and Elton were coming their way, both smiling broadly. Clarissa handed Nick the room key. “The desk clerk will make sure your horse and buggy are properly stabled for the night and ready to go tomorrow morning.” She patted his hand closed around the large brass key. “Be happy, my friend,” she murmured, and Grace saw tears glisten on her lashes.
Elton bent and kissed Grace’s cheek and then shook hands with Nick. “Let’s go, Clarissa,” he said as he steered his wife to the door.
“Good night,” Clarissa called, looking back over her shoulder.
Nick and Grace waved. “And thank you both,” Grace added.
When they were gone, Nick led the way to the stairs, and they climbed together to the second floor. “This way,” he murmured after checking the number on the key and signs on the wall.
Once inside the room, they were suddenly shy with each other. Nick took her coat and his and hung them in a small closet, then went around opening doors and drawers, discovering a washroom with sink and toilet and a desk with a fold-down writing surface and three shallow drawers. Grace walked to the window and parted the heavy drapes to reveal a view of a church, its stained-glass windows dark. They both avoided looking at the bed that dominated the room.
“There’s a gift for you,” Nick said. He pointed to a white box tied with red ribbon on the bed.
Since he was still all the way across the room from her, Grace had to ask, “How do you know it’s for me? It could be for you, or both of us.”
Nick chuckled. “Only way to find out is to open it.”
They approached the bed from opposite sides of the room. He slid the box toward her. “There’s a card.”
She opened it, read the message, and smiled. “It’s for me—from Clarissa. She says she figured I didn’t have a chance to pack.”
“Open it.”
Once the ribbon was untied and the lid set aside, Grace dug through what seemed to be masses of tissue paper until finally, her fingers closed on fabric—a fine, creamy-white lawn. She held up a nightgown trimmed in lace with ribbon closings. She immediately began putting it back in the box.
Nick reached across and placed his hand on hers. “Go put it on,” he said softly. He nodded toward the bathroom. “Go on.”
She took her time, mostly because her hands were shaking so badly, she had to struggle to unfasten the buttons on her dress. When she was down to her undergarments, she hesitated, staring at the beautiful nightgown she’d draped over the edge of the sink. It was so thin, Nick would see everything.
Well, isn’t that the idea?
She could hear him moving around outside the door. She heard his boots hit the floor as he shed them, followed by the creak of the bed. She wondered if he was as nervous as she was.
“Grace, are you all right?”
“Yes.”
“Awfully quiet in there,” he added.
“I’ll be out in a minute.”
That seemed to satisfy him. Turning away from the small mirror over the sink, she quickly shed the rest of her clothing. Naked now, she folded each undergarment and stacked it with her dress before putting on the nightgown. The long sleeves covered her arms, a lace ruffle brushing the backs of her hands. The neckline barely covered her shoulders until she tugged on the ribbons to gather the fabric closed. She tied each of the ribbons that ran from her neck to her waist, imagining Nick opening them again—unwrapping her as if she were the gift.
She drew in a shuddering breath and turned away from the mirror before releasing the pins, ribbons, and combs Clarissa had used in her hair, dropping the pins in a small glass dish that sat on a shelf over the toilet. Lock by lock, her hair tumbled down her back. She lifted the weight of it and pulled it all over one shoulder. And when she finally raised her eyes to the mi
rror, she barely recognized the woman staring back at her.
“Mrs. Nicholas Hopkins,” she whispered, smiling at her reflection.
Chapter 9
Nick kept his eye on the closed door. What could be taking so long? He’d shed his clothes and turned back the luxurious satin spread on the bed in no time at all. Now he sat with his back against the cypress headboard, the covers—softer than anything he’d ever slept under in his life—pulled to his waist.
He was about to go to the bathroom door again when he heard a soft click, saw the knob turn, and watched as the door slowly opened. When she stepped into the room, he swallowed a gasp. She stood for a minute, smiling uncertainly, the light from the street outside the window silhouetting every detail of her body beneath the gown.
She fingered one of the ribbons. “Isn’t it lovely?” she said.
“You’re lovely,” he managed. He patted the bed. “Come here.”
“Turn out the light,” she said, nodding at the lamp on the bedside table and not yet realizing he’d already seen everything.
“Grace, we’re married.”
“Then you come here,” she said, stepping farther back into the shadows.
“Grace, I’m naked. Clarissa didn’t send anything for me.”
“Oh.” The way she looked around, he was half afraid she might go running back to the bathroom.
“Hey,” he said, pulling the sheet free and wrapping it around his waist. Barefoot, he crossed the room, pulled her into his arms, and kissed her. “This is me—and you.” He ran his hands from her shoulders to her breasts. “Right now, we’re not doing anything we haven’t done before. Just fewer barriers.” He kissed her throat. “Touch me, Grace,” he whispered.
She placed her palms flat on his bare back.
He untied the first of the ribbons, then two more, and spread the neckline of the gown so that her shoulders were exposed. He kissed her there and, nudging the gown lower as he went, trailed kisses across the rise of her breasts. She wrapped her arms around him, urging him closer. He grasped her bare waist, and as he lifted her, the gown fell away, and he let the sheet drop as well.
Cupping her hips as she wrapped her legs around him, he carried her to the bed. Gently, he laid her down, her hair fanned over the pillows. His breath caught, and his desire swelled to a near breaking point as he straddled her, resting his weight on his hands, flat to either side of her face. But was she ready? Did she understand?
“Grace, the first time can be—”
She placed her finger against his lips to shush him and then trailed that finger down his chin, his throat, his chest, and on until she touched him intimately, spreading her fingers over the length of him. “Teach me,” she whispered.
He didn’t need to be asked twice. “Well, for starters, if we want to really enjoy this, you need to stop touching me in that particular way.”
She jerked her hand away. “Sorry.”
“That’s kind of the advanced lesson. First, we need to be sure we’re both ready.”
“I’m ready, Nick. I—”
She gasped as he touched her in a way that was both shocking and thrilling.
“Not quite yet,” he murmured. “Soon,” he promised. “Very soon.”
* * *
Grace had no idea what was happening to her. All she knew was that she was certain that at any minute, she might explode like a skyrocket. But when her body jerked in an involuntary spasm and Nick immediately stopped the exquisite torture, she grasped his hand before he could pull free of her. “Don’t stop,” she whispered.
He shifted so that he was not only massaging her down there but also covering one nipple with his open mouth, allowing his tongue to play over the hardened and sensitive tip. She scraped his bare back with her nails, urging him closer—as if he could be any nearer than he was.
And then everything stopped. He raised himself onto his forearms and looked at her. “Ready?”
She was half crazed with the need for him to burst this dam of sensation he had created. “Yes.” Her voice was a hoarse rasp.
Nick placed his hands under her hips and then lay over her. At first, it seemed impossible that their bodies could be made to connect in this most intimate way. He was tender and cautious. She was frustrated and impatient. She shifted beneath him, searching for the exact angle that would allow him full entry, full possession.
And then in one swift moment, they were joined—they were one. For an instant, they froze, and then slowly, he started to move, and she matched him in the rhythm of this dance she understood was the waltz of love.
* * *
It was still pitch-black outside the hotel window when Nick woke her. He was entirely dressed except for his boots.
“Grace?” He touched her cheek, and she leaned into the caress and smiled.
“What time is it?” She pushed herself to a sitting position and stretched before realizing she was naked. Nick’s hand hovered near her exposed breast.
“Nearly four.” He allowed his finger to graze her nipple. “We have to go.” His tone reflected the regret they both felt. The fairy tale of the last several hours had come to its end.
“I wish—”
He smothered her words with a searing kiss. “So do I,” he whispered. “But we have to leave soon, or you’ll be slipping past Miss K’s room right when she comes out to start her day.”
On her way to the bathroom, she stepped on the nightgown, now lying on the floor. She picked it up and, for a moment, glanced around. She had no luggage, and she could hardly return to the hotel toting the large gift box, but she would not leave it behind. In the bathroom, she washed herself, feeling the exquisite soreness that was evidence of her status as a newly married woman. She could not seem to stop smiling.
Before she finished dressing, she slipped the nightgown over her head and then put on the rest of her clothing over it. She wound her hair into a knot and anchored it with the combs and pins she’d removed the night before. She took the ribbons and wrapped them around her fingers before stuffing them inside her purse.
“Almost ready,” she said as she opened the door. Nick had put on his boots. She sat on the small settee and reached for her shoes.
“Allow me, my lady.” He knelt and raised the hem of her dress above her ankle. He kept his hand there for a second, stroking her calf, before reaching for the shoes. Using a buttonhook he had retrieved from the dresser, he concentrated on wordlessly attending to each shoe.
Grace watched, her eyes accustomed enough to the predawn darkness to see him bite his lower lip in concentration. She found this so endearing and wondered how many little details she had yet to discover about her husband.
Husband.
“I don’t want you to go,” she murmured.
He stood, having finished the task, and held out his arms to her. “Then quit your job and come with me. We’ll tell Aidan we’re married, and that will set everything in motion. A honeymoon in California and then—”
The realities and practicalities of their situation hit her like a pail of cold water. “No, we need this time for me to complete my obligation to the hotel and my family while you get that much closer to paying off the bank loan without having to worry about providing for me.”
He folded his arms around her and pressed her close to his chest. “I know,” he said. “I know.” There was so much they hadn’t thought through—where they would live, how they would manage—and yet she had no regrets.
They stood like that for a long moment, and then he kissed her forehead and stepped back. “Ready?”
She nodded. He held her coat for her before picking up his hat and opening the door.
“Wait,” she said and hurried back to the bedside table to get her wedding bouquet.
Nick grinned. “What are you gonna do with the flowers?”
“I’ll come u
p with something, but I’m not leaving them behind.”
Outside, the horse and buggy waited by the entrance.
“How did they know?” Grace asked as Nick helped her climb in.
He shrugged. “Elton and Clarissa leave nothing to chance.” He tipped the doorman and climbed aboard, and they were off. “Well, Mrs. Hopkins,” he said and then grinned.
“Well what?”
“Nothing. Just wanted to say the name.” He urged the horse to greater speed, and suddenly, Grace knew exactly what to do with the ribbons and flowers.
She pulled the ribbons from her purse, then stripped the petals and leaves from all but one of the blossoms in the bouquet. That one, she wrapped in her handkerchief and tied with one of the ribbons before placing it carefully back in her purse. Then, as they rode away from the deserted streets of Santa Fe, she released the rest of the ribbons and petals in the air. “Hello, world! Meet Mr. and Mrs. Nicholas Hopkins,” she shouted as she flung them high.
Nick laughed, wrapped his arm around her shoulder, and pulled her close. They drove that way until they reached the outskirts of Juniper. The sun was just beginning to win the battle to lighten the black skies to charcoal and then gray and then a rosy pink. Nick turned the buggy down a narrow, unmarked trail.
“This will take us to the back of the hotel,” he explained. “I’ll get as close as I can, but you’ll need to make a run for it. There’s a side door used by the housemaids. You can go in that way, through the laundry, and up the back stairs there. The entry to your quarters will be at the far end of the third-floor hall.”
Grace stared at him.
He grinned. “Want to know how I know all that, do you?”
She nodded.
“Slim was courting a Harvey Girl a few years back and scoped out the whole hotel for every possible way to get her in and out.”
“Is he…is she…?”
“She ran off with a peddler. Slim never got over it to this day.” He pulled the buggy to a stop. “I’m not much of a letter writer, Grace, but…”
She framed his face with her hands. “Just send word you’ve gotten there safely and come back to me as soon as you can,” she pleaded. She kissed him, memories of their night of lovemaking filling her thoughts as he wrapped his arms around her and deepened the kiss.