Autumn Lady

by AnneMarie Dapp

  Mara admired the lacy material, delicate and refined. Her blue eyes filled with tears as it was placed on her head.

  “Don’t you dare cry, Mara. You’ll get me started and I’ll be doing plenty of that at the church.”

  Betty came forward with a small box in her hand. “Mara, you’re my best friend…actually more like my sister. I know you should have something blue, and so I want you to wear my mother’s necklace on your special day. My pa gave it to me on my sixteenth birthday. It was a gift to my mother on their anniversary,” she whispered.

  She turned, her mouth trembling. “Oh, Betty, it’s so beautiful.” She looked down at the sapphire, admiring the brilliant gem. “I’ll take good care of it for you.” She hugged her tightly, kissing her cheek.

  “I can’t thank you enough, and to think you’re going to be my Maiden and Matron of honor!” They wrapped their arms around their friend and led her outside to the surrey, carefully placing her train alongside her on the seat. Betty rode with Joshua, while Sarah drove Mara. Autumn leaves blew across the cobblestones, colorful markers of time.

  The Wedding

  Patrick and Jenjie took a detour on the way to the wedding. They’d made an early start of the day. The groom had planned a special surprise for his bride. There were many people out on the road that morning, and neither man realized that they were being followed. They parked in the alley behind a large warehouse. Jenjie busied himself tying Sammy to a hitching post while Patrick searched for his toolbox in the back of the wagon. He was oblivious to the approaching footsteps. A shadow fell over him and he turned towards the darkness. A stranger was blocking the light, a shiny pistol in hand. The man appeared to be in his thirties, well dressed, but disheveled. The right side of his cheek appeared swollen.

  “Put your hands out where I can see them,” he said with a gravelly voice.

  “Who are you?”

  “That’s not important. All you need to know is that you cost me everything.”

  Patrick looked up in question, his brows knitting together, “I think there’s been some kind of mistake…I’ve never seen you before.”

  The stranger pointed the gun at Patrick’s head, smiling wildly. “James assured me that you were going to lose. He said it was a sure thing. I bet everything I had on the fight. You…shouldn’t even be here,” he growled.

  “I won the fight fairly. I’m sure we can talk about this reasonably…if you just put the gun away. Shooting me isn’t going to fix your problem.”

  The stranger’s face reddened, his eyes narrowed. “No, but I’m sure that you won a pretty penny. You’re not even from this country, are you?” He tongue darted over his bottom lip. “You don’t deserve the money.” He spit a clump of tobacco towards Patrick’s feet. A trail of brown spittle ran down his chin, over his rust-colored beard. “So, you’re going to hand it over to me…and then…maybe I’ll consider letting you go.”

  Patrick studied the man’s face. He noticed the beads of sweat on his forehead and upper lip. A nervous twitch flickering over his right eye.

  “I…don’t have the cash on me.”

  “Then we can go for a little ride. My carriage is parked out back. Move,” he said, gesturing with his pistol.

  Jenjie quietly crept up behind the man. He tossed a pebble towards his feet. The moment the stranger’s attention was diverted, he hurled himself forward. He dropped his gun, but not before pulling the trigger, the bullet whizzing within inches of Patrick’s face. The loud re-percussion exploded like thunder. Jenjie wrapped his arm around the assailant’s throat in a chokehold, dropping him to his knees. He gasped for breath, struggling on the ground. Patrick rushed over, his eyes wide. “Thank you, Jenjie,” he said with a sigh of relief.

  A second man appeared in the alley and hurried over.

  “Wow! You two definitely keep things interesting around here.” He looked back and forth between the men shaking his head. “I was just checking on your order inside, Mr. Deane. They’re ready for you.” He put his hands on his hips, looking down the alley. “Look, why don’t you head on over. Maybe Mr. Lee can help me secure this man inside my carriage while you get set up. I can’t wait to hear what this is all about,” he said. He studied the man on the ground struggling to get up. Jenjie pushed his knee into the small of his back and the stranger groaned in protest. “I suppose that I could take him to the sheriff’s office. I believe you two have a wedding to make?”

  “Yes, we most definitely do. I really appreciate your help.”

  “My pleasure. I won a lot of money off your fight. Like I was saying at the dance, I’m looking forward to going into business with you fellows. I hope you enjoy your wedding gift…as a little advance on our upcoming business.” He handed Patrick a gold key on a chain.

  “Thank you, Mr. Jacobson. We’ll definitely enjoy it.”

  “Wonderful. I’m looking forward to getting to work once you’re back in town. Mr. Lee and I can start looking at properties while you’re away.

  “Sounds great. I’ll get in touch after we get back from the honeymoon. Thanks again.”

  Jenjie and Patrick took care of their final errand before the wedding, and then rushed back to the church with just a few moments to spare.

  * * * *

  Mara and her friends arrived at Saint Patrick’s; a large number of carriages were already parked outside. They waited in the back, nervously anticipating the ceremony. The procession lined up, with Father Joseph following behind. When the music began, the congregation rose to their feet. All eyes turned toward Mara. She appeared to float down through the aisle, an angel decked out in all white. Her bouquet of pink roses matched the glow of her blushing cheeks. Tears and sighs greeted her as she passed. Donald led her by the arm, smiling proudly. Joshua escorted Betty, followed by Mrs. Levy on Sheriff Carpenter’s arm.

  The groom stood tall and proud in a dark navy suit, a silk vest over a white silken shirt. A few loose bangs escaped over his forehead. His brown eyes glistened with tears as Mara made her way down the aisle. Jenjie stood next to him as best man. He smiled softly, honored to be part of his friend’s special day. Patrick took a deep breath, overcome with emotion. Donald led the bride to the altar, stepping forward when the priest inquired as to who was giving her away. He gave her a quick peck on the cheek and made his way back down the aisle, taking a seat next to Jeremiah. Mr. Smith noticed the tears in his eyes and gently patted his shoulder.

  Sarah’s grandson handed Patrick the ring when the time came. He slipped it carefully on her finger as they said their vows. A feeling of peace washed over them while they gazed into one another’s eyes, enraptured by love and grace. Applause rang out when they took their first kiss as husband and wife. Afterwards, the couple made their way down the aisle as Mr. And Mrs. Deane. The congregation rose to their feet, their friends’ good wishes and showers of rice followed them.

  Outside, the weather had taken a startling turn. The sky was darkening, and a storm front was moving in. Patrick leaned toward Mara and whispered, “I have a little surprise for you, love.”

  She looked up at her husband, her heart filled with wonder. At the bottom of the steps was a new carriage—navy blue, with gold accents. A large satin bow was tied around the back. She smiled when she saw that Sammy was hitched to the front, but when he leaned down, she noticed that another horse was standing alongside him. Patrick took her hand and led her to the other side. A petite, sorrel mare whinnied as they approached. Mara’s eyes widened with disbelief, her mouth falling open.

  Patrick smiled, pushing his bangs away with the back of his hand. “It’s about time we had our own carriage, and I know how much you love horses. So, I figured you might enjoy one of your very own, and this little mare was just released from the SPCA for adoption. She needed a new home, and so I thought it’d be nice for her to join our family.”

  “Oh, Patrick, it’s the pony from that terrible accident, but look at her now! Why she’s filled out so…you can’t even see her ribs. She’s so
beautiful. I…love her.”

  He smiled and nodded. “They took good care of her at the shelter.”

  Mara reached up and stroked her neck. The mare eyed her softly and snorted. Sammy nudged her as they leaned close.

  “Looks like Sammy’s quite taken with her.”

  “Like I told you when we first met, love…Sammy can’t resist a pretty lady.” He offered his arm and helped her into the carriage. Mara sighed as she sat down on the velvet cushions, feeling like a princess. Their friends waved goodbye as they made their way down the cobblestone road.

  The Honeymoon

  They traveled for many miles along the glistening bay, past forested valleys and meadows of ice plant. A few hours into the journey, the clouds gathered and the wind began to moan. Patrick pulled Mara close, rubbing her arms to warm her. She was filled with an excited anticipation, wondering where they were going. As the afternoon light faded, a sea breeze blew against their faces and the crashing tides echoed from the shore. A light drizzle fell, and they blinked away the cold drops. They eventually arrived at a small fishing village. Clusters of willows were strewn throughout sandy beaches. A foghorn sounded from the distance. It was answered by a series of barks from a group of shiny sea lions. They huddled in lazy contentment, yawning and stretching in their protected cove. A sliver of sunlight escaped the cloud barrier, warming their plump bodies.

  There were anchored ships in the distance, hulking giants. A scattering of smaller boats floated along the restless waves, tiny dots on an infinite sea. Several rustic cottages were strewn along the beach. Mara wondered if they would be safe with the rising tides. The full moon was helping draw the waters dangerously close to the shore.

  They drove past an old faded sign reading, The Village of Sausalito. It was a sleepy town full of seasoned mariners with weather-beaten faces and calloused hands. The shoreline was dotted with modest shops and cafés. Shacks lined the road, providing local fisherman with bait and tackle. The carriage weaved along the dirt path, passing churning waters and rocky dunes. The azure tides rushed and crashed, seagulls occasionally diving toward the waters, their shrill voices crying in the wind.

  Patrick looked at his bride, his eyes shining with love and eagerness. The road curved toward a sandy beach, which was surrounded by steep rock cliffs. A modest cottage was set between the tall boulders, providing its own private setting. Mara wondered why the home was set apart from the others. A small paddock rested behind the house. He pulled their carriage toward the stalls, parked, and helped Mara down from her seat. Her shoes slipped into the sandy soil, and so he steadied her as they walked.

  She looked up questioning Patrick, her eyebrows rising.

  “You like it, love?”

  “Oh, it’s a beautiful town. So charming, but why are we here?”

  “Darlin’, I wanted us to enjoy a nice little vacation for our honeymoon, and I thought this fishing village might be a private place to…begin our lives together,” he said, with his eyes glimmering in the fading light.

  “I’ve been working with a gentleman I met at the Palace Hotel. You remember Mr. Jacobson? We chatted briefly at the dance. He’s involved in quite a few real-estate ventures in the city. He also won a large amount of money on my fight. Boxing happens to be his favorite sport. So, he’s interested in doing some business with Jenjie and me. We’re planning on investing together in the Pacific Heights neighborhood. This cottage happens to be one of his vacation properties. He offered it to us for our honeymoon,” he said.

  Her mouth fell open when she realized what he’d planned. “Oh, Patrick, this is so beautiful!” She wrapped her arms around him, as he leaned down for a kiss.

  He smiled softly, and then tended to their horses, setting them up next to one another in their own stalls. Each was given a flake of hay and some scoops of grain. They leaned toward their feed, blowing vapors of mist in the chilly air. Mara studied the sorrel mare, admiring her glossy coat and petite frame. The setting sun slipped through the window, blanketing them with its garnet glow. She reached her hand over the paddock door and stroked the white stripe running down the mare’s muzzle. She nibbled at her fingers playfully, her velvet nose soft to the touch.

  “She’s so lovely, Patrick.”

  “Have you thought of a name yet, darlin?”

  She tilted her head slightly. “I think that I’m going to call her Calliope. That’s the Greek muse of poetry. It’s fitting. She’s so graceful when she trots, her dainty feet seem to dance along the ground. She’s poetry in motion.”

  Patrick shook his head and smiled, “That’s a beautiful name, and I was thinking we might want to take them down to the beach later this week. We could ride them along the shore together. Calliope is the perfect size for your tiny frame,” he said, offering his arm. Mara nodded happily, imagining their horses racing together in the sand.

  They made their way down a curving path, leading to the weatherworn cottage. Their feet sunk into the sand as they walked, leaving soft footprints behind. The sea breeze was fresh, the sky above glowing with crimson streaks. A harvest moon illuminated the waves in its hazy glow. They crashed together in frenzied harmony, the tide rising out to meet them. A crack of thunder erupted overhead, and the rain began to fall. A sprinkle at first, followed by icy sheets. They laughed, running towards the cottage hand in hand. Patrick unlatched the white picket fence, and they followed the graveled walkway to the oak door.

  Mara looked around the front yard. Bright pink roses shot up toward the heavens, an ivory fountain resting between them. The rain caressed the snowy angel wings. The cherub grinned under the fading light. Patrick searched inside his pockets until he found the key, placing it inside the rusty lock. It jiggled for a moment before clicking open. He pushed on the door creaking on rusty hinges. He paused and looked down into Mara’s soft blue eyes. He took her in his arms, the waves of silk fluttering in the breeze. They crossed the threshold, and he gently lowered her to the floor. The room was filled with shadows, a fading twilight outside the windows. A fireplace rested in the corner of the room. The mantel above displayed pieces of driftwood, a tiny ship in a bottle, and pink and white seashells. A large canvas hung above it—an ocean scene with raging tides and a moonlit sky. A bed sat opposite, covered in a navy and white quilt, a wedding ring pattern appliquéd to the soft cotton.

  Patrick took Mara’s hand, kissing it softly, and told her he’d be right back. He bent down in front of the fireplace and went to work starting the flames. Soon, the shadows disappeared into the corners and the hearth burned brightly. Mara studied his silhouette. Each movement highlighted the contours of his muscles along his back and arms. Outside the wind howled, a crash of thunder erupting followed by a streak of lightning that lit up the room. Mara jumped when it struck, letting out a gasp of surprise. Patrick turned toward her. The firelight reflecting in his dark eyes, golden highlights mirrored in the flames. His lips parted as he sighed. “I’ve never seen anyone so lovely, Mrs. Deane.”

  Hearing her new name made her heart flutter. He stepped closer, studying her face. Another roar of thunder rumbled, and the rain pounded against the doors and windows. Outside, the waves crashed like battling titans. He swept her up in his arms, his chiseled body pressing close. He carried her to the bed, his eyes dark as night. He leaned forward, kissing her mouth, and she responded eagerly. His hands moved over satin curves, loosening fasteners and ties. Mara freed his buttons, one by one, exposing his broad chest. She traced her fingers over taut muscles, exhaling in anticipation. She breathed in the scent of his aftershave and sun dried leather. He looked down at her delicate camisole and smiled. His hands moved across her shoulders, barely touching her skin, and the straps slid down. Undergarments fell to the ground, and his trousers soon followed.

  Her eyes widened in the firelight. He reached his hand under the small of her back, carefully lowering her down toward the bed.

  In that moment, Mara’s heart pounded so hard she thought it might actually explode. Patrick ca
ressed her body, sending tingling sensations down into her toes. She felt the gold of her wedding band, a reminder that she was now his wife, bound by the eternal. As their bodies pressed against one another, she trembled with anticipation, Patrick gazing into her soft blue eyes, tracing the curves of her face with the back of his hand.

  “I love you, Mrs. Deane. I want you to know that you will always be my beautiful little rose. I pray that I’ll be able to make you happy, and that you realize just how much I love yah, and I’ll spend the rest of my life trying to make your dreams come true.”

  “I love you, Mr. Deane,” she whispered, “and you’ve already made all of my dreams come true.”

  His dark eyes glowed like burning coals, his smile flashing brilliantly in the firelight. He pulled her closer, his hands caressing her strawberry blonde curls, their colorful strands slipping through his fingers, as her golden highlights shimmered in the night. His lips brushed over her mouth and down her delicate neck. His tongue flicked over her supple breasts. She pulled his face closer, her fingers clutching his wavy locks. He was eager to please, and her body yearned for his touch. He took his time until she couldn’t take it anymore, and then she pressed against him, her body trembling, waiting for the secret to be revealed. He looked into her eyes making sure she was ready, and then pressed down gently with his hips.

  When he entered, she winced slightly, biting down on her lower lip. He hesitated, her eyes widening with concern. She sighed and whispered, “Yes.” The corners of his mouth pulled up, and he continued. The rain pounded on the roof and windows. A howling wind whipped against the cottage walls. Inside they were warm and safe in each other’s arms. The firelight reflected in her locks of cinnamon gold. He smiled down in fascination, never knowing such happiness. Patrick’s eyes were so full of love that Mara felt like she was falling.