by Betty Bolte
His gaze flashed to her mouth and then up to her eyes. "I love you, Samantha McAlester."
She inhaled and let it out slowly while she explored her feelings for the handsome man standing before her, holding her hands while a sensation much like a mild jellyfish sting sizzled through her entire body. As a result, she lost the ability to string together coherent thoughts. Somewhere among the foggy remnants, as she peered up at him, she rediscovered her answer. One she'd dismissed as too fearful and sudden when she first discovered it, but now fit like a doeskin glove. She grinned at him. "I love you, Trent Cunningham."
He continued to study her, exploring her expression for a long moment. The silence stretched like a cat after its nap. A little boy grin eased onto his lips. "Will you forgive me for my errant opinion of your talent and training?"
If he continued to regard her with those enchanting eyes and devilish grin, she'd forgive him any trespass. "Only if you'll forgive my tendency to stubbornness."
He inclined his head. "I have something I'd like to give you, with your permission?"
"That depends upon what you wish to give me." Goodness, whatever could he mean?
He squeezed both of her hands, closing the distance between them in one fluid motion. "An understandable request. Miss Samantha, I wish to bestow upon you my hand in marriage. Will you accept?"
Shock swept through her like the vibration of a walking stick struck upon bedrock. Marriage? Such a sudden idea, unexpected but surprisingly not unwanted. "Are you teasing me?"
Trent's smile sobered. "Indeed not, my dear. I am in earnest. Will you marry me?"
The fog in her brain descended, and she shook her head to try to clear it to no avail. "Nay, I cannot answer you. 'Tis too sudden a question."
His grip tightened then relaxed. "I did not mean to offend you. I shall withdraw my question."
This beautiful man wanted to marry her? After all they'd been through? Despite all they'd been through over the past month? His proposition held merit. Not only did she find him attractive, but more important he had the means to provide for her and the ambition to make a life for them. Marriage meant relying upon each other to forge a working household, a place to raise children and make a life together. Love was not the primary consideration, but it came with a deepening of respect and trust between two people. The fact they shared such a love at the outset of their relationship boded well. She could continue to work alongside him, but if she were to become pregnant, then she'd have the luxury of caring for herself first to ensure a safe delivery of the babe. Until then, she'd have a partner as well as an intelligent and enticing companion. But what of her desire to remain unwed? Her vow to be true to Edward and their love?
"Nay, do not withdraw your question, unless you desire to do so." She squeezed his hands, drawing his attention. "I'm honored by your proposal, Trent. I simply require time to consider your offer. Will you grant me a day to deliberate?"
Trent inclined his head in a half bow. "In that case, please allow me to give you one thing with which to make your contemplation more productive." A flicker of something wicked flashed in his expression.
Gramercy but he took her breath. She swallowed and then raised an eyebrow and slanted her gaze at him. "What sort of thing?"
"This." Wrapping his arms around her waist, he lowered his mouth to hers.
It was a natural response to circle his neck with her arms, clasping one hand onto her other wrist and pulling him closer. Despite the fact decorum dictated her hands should stay primly on his arms. Very muscular arms, but abandoned for the welcome feel of his hair beneath her fingers. Finally. Desperate to enjoy the luxurious softness, she slid one hand through his hair before clinging to him for stability. Trent slipped his tongue between her lips and teeth, exploring and tasting, first tentatively and then with more assurance. She let her eyelids fall while she savored the sensations exploding in her mouth. Sensations unlike any she'd felt in her life, not even with her first husband.
His arms became bindings, lashing her body against his chest. His kiss devoured, leaving her breathless and hungry for more. She pressed against him, their tongues playing and cavorting, desiring nothing more than to become one with him. A low moan began in the back of her throat and worked its way up and into his mouth, where he swallowed the sound. Still, they stood locked in an embrace neither wanted to break, locked in a kiss neither wanted to end, locked in a moment neither wanted to forget.
Samantha finally had to come up for air, gasping and disoriented by her wanton demand for his touch and his kiss. Forcing herself to step back so her breasts no longer pressed into his hard chest, she chose to strive for poise despite the churning inside. Besides, she should never have allowed him such an improper act. Gift or not. Heat flushed up her neck and into her cheeks. Words, however, did not come to mind as she stared at the luscious man, one who could be her man if she so chose. Did she?
"I'm afraid I must leave you for the time as I have an urgent errand to run." He released her and half bowed from the waist. "I shall come for you on the morrow to watch the spectacle, if you'll permit me?"
Yes, he should leave. At the moment, she'd permit him most anything he desired. Her body still trembled from his assault on her senses, her heart still raced, and her lips still buzzed like a swarm of bees. She needed time to think, to consider, to recover. She drew in a shaky breath. "'Tis very kind of you. I shall look forward to it."
* * *
Crowds of Charles Town's citizens lined Broad Street the next afternoon, watching the British troops slowly trudge past on their way to the ships in the harbor. Their faces displayed misery and relief. Misery at their defeat by the ragtag Americans. Relief at finally putting their backs to the newborn country once and for all.
Samantha stood between Trent and Emily. Joy filled her heart with each passing row of Britons marching down to the docks and then boarding the vessels bound for distant lands such as England, Florida, St. Lucia and Jamaica. Not that she cared where they went as long as they left.
She sneaked a glance at Trent, his beautiful face wreathed in a happy smile as he chatted to Benjamin on his other side. She'd thought long and hard throughout the night about his unanticipated question. Pacing the wood floor, afraid she'd wear the boards thin, she had considered the ramifications of his proposal. While the short-term result would be a place to call her own, the long term meant tending and caring for another husband. Did the foundation exist for them to love, to trust, and ultimately to take the fearsome step of joining their lives together as long as they lived? Life had become pleasant with only herself to consider. Did she want to have someone else to think about and look after?
Thistle came to mind along with the thought. What had happened to the dog and her puppies? Were they being well cared for? She imagined the pups had grown, become more agile and sturdy over the past days since she last watched them play. She sighed. She missed their furry, plump bodies squirming to secure a spot to nurse from their mother. She missed their sweet smell when they licked her hands and her cheek. Caring for someone else brought a feeling of joy and of being useful.
The soldiers continued to stream past, so many men with harsh, determined faces. All of them no doubt harboring grudges against the Americans as well as looking forward to reunions with their loved ones on the other side of the ocean. So much had occurred over the last few days that her head spun. Which direction should she journey next? Down the single path or take the branch leading to matrimony?
Then she must also answer the question as to her midwifery and healing endeavors. Her failure to adequately help Lydia and her child festered and stung. Despite Trent's reassurances, her abilities and reputation had been tested and found wanting. Benjamin's recovery stemmed from the unknown qualities of an ancient fever reducing sweat and the smoky quartz, a mysteriously powerful stone. Should she even contemplate continuing her practice? So few successes to her name led her to lean toward foregoing the effort and search for something else to do with h
er time. Like making food stuffs to sell in the market. Or perhaps she could join with Emily in her shop, stitching shirts and dresses which Emily would embroider for others to wear.
A movement beside Trent caught her attention. She smiled at the woman approaching, carrying a child swaddled against the coolness. A step behind, Belinda strolled along with a faraway look in her eyes. Samantha moved to offer her greetings. "Evelyn, how are you?"
"Very well, and very glad to watch the bloody British depart our fair shores." Evelyn waved a hand at the backs of the men marching down King toward the wharfs and then faced Samantha. "And how fare you?"
How indeed? Confused and scared and hopeful. She nodded. "The Sullivans' have been very kind to me while I sort my options."
"We should chat as we have much in common, at least given what Amy has told me."
Samantha tilted her head and raised a brow as she regarded Evelyn. "Like both being widows?"
Evelyn grinned and nodded. "And we're both without a home of our own."
"Mayhap we should visit and discuss possibilities." Samantha lifted the soft blanket from where it snugged around the baby's face. "Including little Jim's future. Will you return to the manor house?"
"Rebuild?" Evelyn's gaze drifted to the British soldiers marching slowly away. "I hadn't considered doing so, but now that you mention it, I might. Though I'd want a friendlier dwelling if I have my way."
"It would entail quite a few helping hands, I dare say, to make a go of living so far from town." Amy stepped up to stand with the women. "I doubt you and Belinda would prove enough to manage."
"The property is a fair piece from town," Emily said, joining the cluster of women. "You'd be better served finding a place closer to town, or even within its boundaries."
"Definitely something to consider." Evelyn bobbed her head several times and shifted Jim to a more comfortable position. "I know my limitations. I'll need a good man, a better man than Walter, to become my husband and provide a safe and sufficient home for my little one and myself."
Amy laid a gentle hand on Evelyn's shoulder. "You'll always have a home with me, no matter what else happens."
Tears sprang to Samantha's eyes at the love openly shared between the sisters. Family willing to nurture and shelter their own. She suddenly wanted nothing more than to have a family of her own to love and provide for, to comfort and celebrate with through the upcoming years.
Benjamin huffed, a poor substitute for a chuckle. "You ladies should not bother your pretty heads with details such as building an appropriate dwelling or locating a proper house." He sniggered from where he stood nearby, though he made no move to further interrupt the women's conversation.
Amy shooed him with one hand. "Ignore us, Benjamin, as our talk may well be over your head."
"Very humorous, my dear." He sobered but aimed a knowing grin her way. "Your meaning is well taken." He briefly bowed his head and then turned to continue watching the parade.
"Men." Amy snorted and individually looked at the women's faces waiting for her reaction to her betrothed's statement. "At least he's learned when his opinion is desired."
"And when it is not." Emily laughed and crossed her arms inside her cloak.
Samantha observed each of the women circled around her, their skirts and cloaks crushed together as they chatted. Amy's bright smile and sparkling eyes after verbally sparring with Benjamin. Emily's grin as she glanced at Frank's profile. Evelyn's contented perusal of Jim in her arms. Each happy in her own way. Samantha flicked a glance to Trent, where he stood conversing with Frank. Trent's open and engaging expression attracted her toward him as surely as the night attracted the stars. Gramercy, what a handsome, intelligent, compassionate man. His first thought had always been for the welfare of his patient, the good of the town, and even her sensibilities after the death of her patients. And he loved her. He said as much. A smile lifted the corners of her mouth.
As if she'd spoken his name, Trent turned toward her. Her smile widened as his eyes changed from curious to twinkling the longer they gazed at each other.
"Samantha, you're making a spectacle of yourself." Emily swatted Samantha's arm lightly. "You'll have the entire town gossiping about you and Trent if you're not careful."
"What would they have to gossip about?" Samantha brought her gaze to rest on the circle of friends again. "We're merely sharing a private moment."
Amy clapped her gloved hands, a muted thud repeated against the fife and drum corps marching past. Over the increased din as the musicians marched by, she said, "All the more fodder for inventive minds to work with. If you want the town to talk, pray continue. I shall be most amused to hear their stories."
The ladies laughed in chorus, the merry sound a consonance against the steady marching tune. From the corner of her eye, Samantha spotted a cluster of people standing nearby, watching the cheerful clutch of women. Samantha didn't care. She was happy for the first time in many weeks. Soon the occupied town would be free just like her heart. Free to move forward and love anew. Time to focus on the future and not dwell on the past. To plan for tomorrow and the next week, next month, next year.
She pivoted and sidled over to Trent. With each step, her confidence grew. She had her answer to his question.
"I've been hoping you'd come stand by me. The Americans will be arriving soon, and I wanted to share this historic transition with you." Trent turned to her as she neared and took her hand in his with easy familiarity. Drums beat the rhythm of the withdrawal as he held her attention.
"I cannot think of anything I'd rather do than share with you the momentous day when our town takes control of its future once more." She squeezed his hand as best she could with her smaller one. His clear blue eyes searched her face while she stared up at him. "Like the rest of the town's residents, today is the first time in years I can seriously plan for my own future as well."
"Are you saying...?"
She moved her head up, then down, keeping her eyes focused on his loving expression. "I believe you asked me a question yesterday."
"And?"
A shuffle behind Samantha alerted her to the straining ears of her friends. They were about to learn about the meaning of the previous shared moment between her and Trent. She could almost feel their breath being held in suspense the longer she studied Trent's questioning smile.
"I'm afraid I'm not quite certain I recall your precise question." After her previous secretive engagement and marriage she wanted everyone to witness this one. "Would you repeat it, to make sure I can answer with the appropriate response?"
Trent smiled at her, then glanced over her head to note their audience. Understanding brought a twinkle to his eyes. He placed a kiss on the back of one gloved hand, and then raised both of her hands to hold in front of his chest.
"Miss Samantha, would you please put me out of my misery and answer my plea from yesterday. Will you marry me?"
The commotion of the men marching by, the cheers of the crowd, the fife and drum marching tune played by the retreating British, and the rush of wind fell away. Samantha pressed her lips together, remembered the intensity of his kiss the day before, the intensity of his gaze when he'd asked her to marry him.
"I am honored by your request, and I accept on one condition." She waited until she received his agreement. "We shall work together in your new hospital to provide the best care possible."
"Together?"
"As equals."
"Agreed." He whooped and lifted her into the air on a whirl of wind.
The women clapped and cheered and rushed to crush around the newly engaged couple.
"What's happened?" Frank asked. "What did I miss?"
"Here I thought you were so observant." Trent grinned as wide as the Cooper River. "Samantha has agreed to become my betrothed."
Congratulations came from all of their friends who surrounded Samantha where she stood in the circle of Trent's arm. She accepted them with a happy smile of her own.
"Oh, Samant
ha, you must plan to marry this gorgeous man on the fifth of January along with Emily and me." Amy clapped her hands together and performed a little hop, her skirts flouncing and stirring up the sandy soil. "Say you will."
"A triple wedding, how wonderful!" Emily hugged Samantha. "I can't think of a better day."
"There will be a lot of plans to put into place to plan an event of that magnitude in such a short period of time." Evelyn jostled Jim in her arms, a huge smile lighting her face. "I'll help any way you need."
"Thank you, Evelyn. I fear I'll need all the assistance my friends can provide." Samantha touched Trent's arm. "What say you?"
He gazed down at her, grinning, and shrugged. "I'd marry you today if you'd agree. But if you wish to wait until Twelfth Night, so be it."
Squeals met his pronouncement. Samantha reached up and kissed him square on the lips to the delight of her observers. Her life with him would begin in less than four weeks. Sweet joy spread through her chest, warming her.
Trent hushed the excited chatter with a motion of his hand. "Anon, I have a surprise. One I cannot contain a moment longer." He took both of Samantha's hands in his and peered into her eyes. "As a wedding gift to my exquisite bride, I am pleased to share that I have purchased the old McAlester place."
Samantha froze, blinking back tears as the meaning of his words sank into her befuddled brain. "You bought my father's house?"
Trent bowed and then grinned at her. "Do you approve?"
"Oh yes! I'd heard it had been sold, and I thought all was lost." She threw herself into his waiting arms and kissed him soundly. Tears of joy cascaded down her cheeks. "You're wonderful. Thank you seems impotent in the face of such generosity."
Benjamin slapped Trent on the back and guffawed. "You sure know how to impress. How am I to live up to such a high standard of wedding gift for my own wife?"
"Yes, Trent, you've definitely set the mark. It shan't be easy, in the event, to equal your effort." Frank shook his head. "I'll need to ponder on the situation for quite some time."
Amy chuckled. "I did not know wedding gifts were a competition."