The Dolan Girls

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The Dolan Girls Page 23

by S. R. Mallery


  A smile crossed the matron’s face.

  Meanwhile, on the home front, the food preparation was nearing its close: roast turkey, roast pig, boiled ham, boiled mutton, stewed liver, poultry, and cutlets for the main course. Hot bread, croquets, and vegetables, puddings, custards, stewed fruit, and of course, a three-tiered wedding cake, courtesy of Marlena.

  “Where did you learn how to do this, Marlena?” Cora had asked.

  The dove gave a fast wink. “I once worked in a certain gentleman’s household. He was a restaurant owner and taught me how to bake, among other things.” She giggled.

  Clothes were also discussed in some detail. Informing her sister that she had gotten a proper dress made for the occasion, Cora asked, “So, I assume you’ve had a dress made up for yourself, right, Minnie?”

  “No thanks, Miss High ‘n Mighty. I just got me some lace trim and put it on one of my own dresses, thank you very much. Besides, it’s not me you should be thinkin’ about. What about the fact that the doves want to help Ellie paint her face, hm?”

  Cora turned to her daughter. “Is this true?”

  Sheepish, Ellie nodded.

  “Oh no, you don’t. That’s fine for the girls, but not for you. I really don’t think Brett would appreciate that, either.”

  Ellie sighed. “Actually, he’s already told me he doesn’t think I need it.”

  “Smart man,” Cora muttered.

  When time came for Ellie’s final fitting, her wedding dress turned out to be breathtaking. Fashioned after a picture in one of Cora’s imported fashion magazines, Madam Laforte, the town’s best seamstress, had cut and sewed morning, noon, and night until the poor French woman’s fingers were numb and blistered.

  Two different fabrics had been used as befitted the newest fashion: an ivory satin for the skirt and bodice, trimmed with lace and held together by shell buttons. And for the three quarter sleeves and the flowing train, a beautiful brocade material had been attached as a ‘compliment subtile.’

  “Isn’t it beautiful, Mama and Auntie?” Ellie cried, stepping out from the seamstress’ back room.

  Cora gasped. How could she have produced such a beautiful daughter? So much grace, such big bright eyes, and top it all off, a girl with an intelligent mind that soared.

  “Cora, are you listening to me? I said doesn’t she look grand?” Minnie asked.

  Cora smiled. “She certainly does.”

  Picking up the edges of her dress, Ellie flew over to hug her mother. “Oh, Mama,” she murmured. She turned to her aunt.

  Minnie couldn’t help herself. “Well now, Missy, are you plannin’ on having petticoats underneath your dress…or maybe your ridin’ bloomers?”

  Madam Laforte was not amused.

  * *

  Finally the wedding day, on Sunday––something Cora had insisted on––had arrived.

  “Why Sunday, Mama?” Ellie had wanted to know earlier.

  “It has to be on a Sunday. That way we’ll know that people have taken their Saturday night baths!”

  Bright and early, as was custom, Brett was retrieved from his stable lodgings by various townspeople. Mr. Corrigan led the pack made up of locals, most of the doves, the blacksmith, Bradford Jones, in town for the occasion, and several of Buffalo Bill’s entourage who had shown up at the last minute. Jokes about marriage––and the wedding night––multiplied as the noisy crowd surrounded the groom who kept fiddling with his stiff collar.

  Just outside the town hall, Minnie was the welcoming committee. “Brett, all’s I can say is you’re walkin’ just like a man with a new suit of underwear,” she cried, triggering a round of explosive laughter.

  Inside, the buzz of excitement was quickly mounting. Chairs had been set up for the people closest to the bride, plus dignified visitors––Mrs. Endicott and her crowd, and a beaming Annie Oakley.

  Brett, armed with the rings in his pocket he had secretly commissioned the blacksmith to make, walked up toward the front to join the local clergyman and Thomas, who snatched a glimpse or two of Cora sitting in the front row when she wasn’t looking.

  Suddenly, the younger madam gave a quick hand signal to the piano player to start up with a slow march. In came Ellie on the arm of a surprisingly sober Pete, so beautiful she brought tears to Brett’s eyes. And as soon as their Biblical vows ended, the minister pronounced them man and wife, and Brett kissed his new bride tenderly, the crowd almost brought down the roof with their whistling and clapping.

  During the meal, the head table housed the family, Pete, and Thomas. The Pinkerton had stayed clear of Cora, but at one point, when their eyes locked, he watched her rubbing the back of her neck as he felt the sweat gathering beneath his suit.

  Toasts were in order, including a very sweet one from Annie, welcoming Ellie to the Buffalo Bill Wild West family. People, caught up in a cheery mood, applauded when Thomas stood up and raised his glass.

  “It has been my great privilege to not only get to know Ellie Dolan––excuse me, Mrs. Brett Parker…” He waited for the titters to cease. “…Mrs. Brett Parker, but also her first rate husband, Brett. No two finer people could be getting married today. So here’s to a long life filled with good health and happiness. Congratulations, you both deserve it. Here, here!”

  Glasses were lifted, clinked, and “here-here’s” echoed across the floor.

  Cora’s toast was short and sweet. “Here’s to the newlyweds. May you always be healthy and happy.” Raising her glass, she smiled at the couple. Then, facing the guests, she announced, “Folks, now it’s time to dance!”

  All eyes turned toward the musicians. A waltz started up, and the bride and groom took center stage. Instantly, a wide-berthed circle of invitees surrounded them, spilling over with encouraging “aahs,” and “Look how beautiful they are,” as the newlyweds twirled around together, in front of everyone.

  Cora watched her daughter and her new husband happily floating on the dance floor, with other couples soon joining in. When Bradford Jones approached, she heard Minnie giggle.

  “Hey, gal, ready for a spin?” he asked, looking his playmate up and down.

  Much like a schoolgirl, Minnie blushed, causing Cora to laugh out loud and say, “Minnie, come on! At your age?”

  “One of us has to get some,” she quipped, and grabbing the photographer’s hand, left her sister standing next to a now inebriated Pete.

  From across the room, Cora could see Thomas talking to a few of the more genteel ladies. Annoyed, she was about to turn to Pete when she noticed him bringing Mrs. Endicott’s niece out onto the dance floor.

  “Food. I should see to the food,” she said so abruptly to Pete, he spilled his drink.

  “Cora, what the hell?” he asked, as she scurried over to the dessert table.

  “Mr. Garrett, you haven’t heard a word I’ve been saying, have you?” the plain-faced niece complained, encircled in the detective’s arms and seeing her partner glance over toward one of the food tables.

  “Sorry,” he muttered, taking one last peek at Cora. “What were you saying?”

  “I was saying that you must come over to dinner some night. Alone, without the Dolans, if you don’t mind,” she sniffed. “Mr. Garrett?”

  “I won’t be here much longer,” he answered when the dance ended. He gently, but firmly brought her back to the sidelines.

  “Thanks for the dance, Miss Rebecca.” Nodding, he made his way over toward the desserts.

  Cora’s eyes widened. Seeing him approach, she hurried back to Pete, leaving Thomas midway across the floor, open-mouthed.

  Toward the end of the night, Ellie, Brett, and Minnie drifted over to Cora and Pete.

  Minnie, sweating profusely, pushed back her wispy hair and turned to the newlyweds. “Gotta go protect you newlyweds from the Chivarees.”

  Pete laughed. “Ah, that time-honored custom of harassing the bride and groom on their wedding night. Reminds me of when my wife and I were married. We were thrice interrupted in our, shall we say,
loving expressions.”

  “What happened, Pete?” Ellie asked, twisting her hands together back and forth.

  “They kept on coming to the hotel where we were staying and banging on our door. Third time, they grabbed me and would have kidnapped me, if it hadn’t been for the hotel manager.”

  Cora glanced over at Ellie’s stricken face. “Pete, I don’t think this is the time to…”

  “Ellie, don’t pay no mind to this ol’ coote!” Minnie said. “That ain’t gonna happen to you two. Now, go on. Go to your new husband.” She gave her niece a little push toward Brett standing on the other side of the room.

  Noticing Thomas walking by, Minnie called out, “Hey, Thomas, how you doin’?”

  Thomas stopped and came over. “All right. Just wanted you all to know I’m leaving in two days’ time, if anyone’s interested,” he said, scoping out Cora’s face.

  “Good to know, good to know. Ain’t it, Cora?” Minnie side-commented.

  Cora avoided Thomas’ eyes. “I know about it, already,” she said, and looked off toward the newlyweds across the hall.

  There, a small band of cowboys and doves had surrounded Ellie and Brett, patting them on their backs and holding up their glasses for another toast.

  “Time to go, all,” Minnie urged, and quickly charged over to the newlyweds.

  Ten minutes later, in front of the hotel, she used a wide stance in front of the doors, shotgun pitched against her shoulder. “You two go on upstairs to your room now. I’ll stand guard. Nobody’s gonna bother you tonight, I can promise you that!”

  Ellie gave Minnie a big hug. “Thank you, Auntie. Thank you so much.”

  Upstairs on the second floor, their wedding suite had been carefully prepared. Champagne was chilling in a silver bucket; bread, cheese, and fresh fruit lay on a small platter.

  Down below, they could hear the noisy cowboys whooping it up, and as they cocked their ears toward the window, they could hear Minnie expressing something strong, because soon, the crowd had disappeared.

  “Well, that’s a relief,” Ellie said, fidgeting with her hair. “Those rings sure were beautiful. By the way, the blacksmith confessed.” She smiled. “So that’s where you disappeared to for two days. Thank you.”

  “Yup, special rings for my special lady.” Brett chuckled. Walking over to the champagne, he withdrew the cold bottle and turned toward his new wife. “Want some? I bet it’s good.”

  Ellie gulped, then looked up, her hand stroking her throat.

  His eyes turned insightful. “Sweetheart, I know you’re nervous.”

  “I never, you know.” She studied her hands.

  Placing the bottle back in the bucket, he went across the room to her.

  “Ellie, I know you’re scared. But I’d never hurt you. Don’t you know that?” he asked, reaching for her hand.

  She placed her hand in his, and let him guide her gently over to a large chair with him.

  “Let’s just talk,” he said simply, sitting down and drawing her onto his lap. He could feel her trembling. “Talk to me,” he said. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

  “Well…”

  “What, sweetheart? Please tell me. ”

  “Marlena told me the first time it would hurt,” she admitted, as he stroked her hair so gently with one of his hands. She drew a breath and tried to smile.

  “Oh, sweetheart, I can wait. Whenever you’re ready, I promise, I’ll be so gentle.” He paused. “Do you believe me?”

  She nodded slowly. “I want to believe you, I swear I do!”

  “This is me, Ellie, not someone like Wes.” He could feel her body relaxing more and more as she leaned forward to give him a quick kiss. He didn’t move a muscle. Then she continued, her kisses lasting longer. Still, he kept his arms gentle around her and let her take the lead.

  Her pupils were beginning to dilate, and as her response deepened, he groaned slightly, particularly when she began stroking his neck, chest, and shoulders. In between her increasingly sensuous kisses, her breath had become almost ragged, and it took all his willpower not to undress her until she was ready. All his instincts were screaming that he must take her now, on the bed; still, he held back.

  Until she started undoing his shirt, almost ripping out the buttons. Then he moved quickly, opening up the little shell buttons on her dress, pulling the bodice and skirt over her head, and finally, gaping at her in her chemise.

  “Oh, Ellie. You are so beautiful.”

  She gazed up at him, her eyes half closed, her mouth parted open just like the first time they had really kissed. He couldn’t help himself. Picking her up and carrying her over to the bed, although it flitted through his mind for a second or two this might be too much too soon, there was an urgency now for both of them, so he tossed out all caution and began his own touching, his own exploring.

  Within minutes, it wouldn’t have mattered if the entire town were gathered at the foot of their bed, bellowing and laughing, as the newlyweds made passionate love that night, consummating their marriage.

  Three times.

  * *

  Back on their porch in the pre-morning hours, Minnie, Cora, and Pete sat back, inhaling the fresh, Nebraskan night air.

  “Thank you for not drinking before the wedding ceremony, Pete. That showed much will power and…” Cora reached out to stroke his hand.

  “Respect?” he interrupted. “Because that’s what I was aiming for, dear girl.”

  Minnie took several puffs on her pipe. “Yep. Our gal now belongs to another.” She turned to Cora. “He’s a good one.”

  “Yes, I do believe he is.”

  Minnie chuckled. “Glad you can at least see him right.” She rested her pipe against the chair arm.

  “Don’t start with me, Minnie. Not now.”

  Pete, his eyelids closing slowly suddenly popped them open. “Don’t start what, Minnie?”

  “The fact that Cora’s been asked to marry Thomas, and she’ll have none of it.”

  “Are you out of your mind?” Pete exclaimed, sitting ramrod straight, his rocker stalled.

  “Minnie,” Cora said, her voice strident. “You talk so much about trust. Trust for Ellie, but what about me? How can I trust Thomas after what he did?”

  Puzzled, Pete shook his head. “What Thomas did? I thought it was Wes who hurt you. What are you talking about?”

  Cora stopped her rocker short. “Really, Pete? The fact that Thomas didn’t come back to be with me after Wes violated me, how he just disappeared. That’s what I’m talking about.”

  “My dear girl. Did I not tell you? Didn’t Minnie ever tell you?”

  Cora was surprised to see tears welling up in the old man’s eyes. She choked. “Tell me what?”

  “That Thomas was determined to get back to you as soon as he heard what had happened. But I stopped him. Told him not to come back. At least not for a long time.”

  A tiny wheezing noise squeaked out of Cora’s throat. “Why would you do that? I needed him so much.”

  “It was an ugly time, Cora. Folks were ready to lynch Wes and anyone connected to him.” He paused. “I––we––just wanted to save his skin. Wouldn’t you have wanted that?”

  Minnie sat suspended. “Oh, my Lord. I never told you, Cora, because I just figured Pete had already done so.”

  “And I thought …well, I don’t know what to say,” Pete added.

  “Finally, you have no quote ready for us?” Cora snapped.

  Minnie reached over to cover her sister’s hand. “Cora, that’s not fair.”

  “Fair?” As Cora rose and took her first step down toward the street, she suddenly swiveled around. “All this time wasted and now, it’s too late!”

  * *

  In her fury, she almost forgot Thomas’ room number at his hotel. Charging through the halls, she woke up at least two people before someone pointed out another door down the hall.

  A tipsy Thomas opened up. “Cora! Are you all right?” he began.

  “Why d
idn’t you ever come back for me?" she cried, her red face blotchy from crying.

  He grabbed her and drew her close.

  “Why? Why?” she moaned, her fists beating on his chest. “I waited for you for so long.”

  He broke away, and sank down on his bed. “First of all, I nearly died in the war. Did you know that? Those Texas Rangers almost did me in. I ended up in the hospital for a long, long time. Then, when I was finally released from there, William from our town, remember him?”

  She gave a slightly annoyed nod.

  “Anyway, he said he was going back to visit his folks in South Benton and would look you up before returning. Told me he would let me know how things were before I either started my new job with the Pinkerton outfit, or do what I was hoping to do––come back to you.”

  “So? What does any of that have to do with William?”

  “It has everything to do with him. When he came back, he told me that he had spoken with Matthew Johnson at a dance. Claimed Matthew said he was going to ask you that night for your hand in marriage, and he was completely confident you would say yes.”

  “Matthew? Marriage? That’s ridiculous!”

  “William told me you were there with him at the dance, pretty chummy ‘n all.”

  “He was always just a friend to me, nothing more.”

  His sigh was very long and measured. “It seems we’ve been at cross purposes,” he said sadly. Standing up, he took a step toward her. “But we have a chance to begin again, don’t we?”

  “Oh, Thomas, I don’t know if I can change. I’ve been this way for so long,” she added, close to a whisper, as she moved to the door.

  “Think about it, Cora, please?” he called out. Two minutes after she had left, the smell of her lavender water was still lingering in the room.

  * *

  The next morning, when a knock on Thomas’ hotel room door came out of nowhere, the detective jumped. Slowly, as if drunk, he got off the unkempt bed and looked around him. Dirty shirts were tossed on the chair, breeches lay carelessly on the floor, and his two half-filled bags stood in his path. Stumbling over them, he cursed as he instinctively picked up his gun.

  Praying it was Cora, his heart pumped furiously as he flung the door open.

 

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