by Rebel Carter
“You’re quite dramatic Alex.”
“Right you are.” Alex winked at her. “Makes life a bit more tolerable, don’t you think?” She reached out and took Minnie's hand as she stood from her chair and pressed a slight kiss to her knuckles. “I’ll be outside seeing to the horses. Get your things together for the journey into town, hmm?”
“Ah, yes,” Mary managed to get out. “I’ll be there shortly,” she said. Alex gave a wave of her hand and continued on, her footfalls slowly fading and then going silent as she left the house. Once the door shut behind her Mary sagged back against her chair and let out the ragged sigh she hadn’t been aware she was holding in.
“Oh, dear,” she whispered, hands going to her face. She held up the hand Alex had kissed in front of her, the gesture had been so casually done and without thought that Mary found it all the more precious and significant. It was as if they had been together for far longer than their scant day of marriage, their handful of acquaintances, as if the other woman had never been without her. That kisses should pass so freely and easily between them was a thing that made Mary’s heart flutter and she shifted, leaning forward onto the table holding the hand up in front of her with wide eyes.
Perhaps her marriage was not purely of kindness after all.
Chapter 12
“You mean that I am free to choose whatever I like?” Mary asked. She was currently standing in front of the mercantile with a hastily scribbled list she had put together on their ride into town. She bit her pencil and looked at her wife curiously when Alex rocked back on her heels and gave her a nod.
“Yes, whatever you like. Pick it out and we’ll have it packed up. The shop will settle the bill with me at the end of the month. I’ll be just up the way talking with Stark about a set of rockers I’ve had on my mind to get. Now is just as good a time as any.” Alex made to move away, and Mary found herself unable to stagger towards her wife with an outstretched hand.
“And you...won’t need to look it over?” she asked.
“No,” Alex answered, and then paused looking back at Mary, “is there a reason I would need to Minnie?”
Mary stopped and considered her words. In her life she had been trusted with precious little. Her mother had always been at the forefront of all decisions, even down to the color of dresses Mary wore, or how she curled her hair. Her father had allowed her some freedom, but it had always been the root of an argument between her parents and led to a sour dinner with all three in tense silence. Mary had learned from a young age to want for little and to ask for less.
“Well, no, I suppose you would not need to but I--” Mary’s voice trailed off when she saw a flash of red and saw it was nothing less than her mother’s hair. Sarah James was beautifully done up in the dress Mary had last seen her fitted in.
Her wedding dress.
In her hand was a bouquet of white roses and on her arm was a dapper dressed Mister Rutherford. It seemed the elder James could not be outdone by her daughter’s impromptu wedding and so had secured one of her own after all.
Mary paused when her mother looked her way and she saw the familiar icy stare aimed at her. Sarah James tossed her head, her red curls cascading over her shoulder as she walked, head high and body elegantly poised as ever, there was not a care on her mother’s face--save for her attention to Mister Rutherford. Her mother always did have an uncanny ability to focus on those she deemed useful and Mary saw now that it was aimed at her new husband.
“Should I stay by your side?” Alex murmured and took a step closer to her. They were nearly shoulder-to-shoulder now, fingers almost brushing, arms grazing the other, and Mary did not miss how her wife drew herself up to her full height when she noticed the newly married couple crossing the avenue and making their way towards them.
“I-well, I don’t rightly know,” Mary confessed when she realized she was unable to determine how her mother might act in the moment. “I’ve never been one to know what my mother might do.”
“I’ll stay put then.”
Mary dipped her chin in acknowledgement and felt strengthened by the barest brush of Alex’s fingers against the back of her knuckles. She cautioned a look up at her wife then and felt the same overwhelming sense of awe at her beauty. It was raw and pure, unfiltered and so genuine in its simple way of being. Alex didn’t try to conform or school her features into a palatable way, not as Mary had been taught. The woman simply was, and Mary could not be more grateful for it.
“I see we are not the only newlyweds in town.” Mister Rutherford greeted them with a tip of his hat and smiled warmly at Mary. “It’s a shame I missed such a fine event, Mary. I hear it was a truly memorable night.”
“It was...dramatic, or so I have read in the morning paper.” Her mother sniffed and looked at her daughter as if she scarcely knew her, and Mary knew the prior evening’s words had not been hastily exchanged. This wasn’t her mother. It wasn’t even Sarah James. It was Missus Rutherford and there wasn't a soul on the avenue that didn’t know it.
“Yes, it was a joyous time enjoyed by all.” Alex reached for her then, lacing their fingers together. “I am pleased to see that you have been able to take part in your own bit of happiness as well,” she said, giving the couple a smile that could have fooled Mary as genuine, except that in their small time together she had noticed quite a lot about her wife and it all told her the smile she aimed at the newly christened Mister and Missus Rutherford was anything but amicable.
It was guarded and pointed. There would be no lingering. Not if the couple was smart.
Mary watched as Mister Rutherford took note. His eyes drifting from Alex to his new wife and then finally to Mary. He watched her for a moment, and she managed a quick “Hello,” with a nod of her head to her mother. She was not keen on sparring with the newly minted Sarah Rutherford.
“Ah, well, we were just here to see to a few things,” Mister Rutherford told them, pointing towards the mercantile. “I expect you are as well.”
“We are. Minnie is in need of a few items and there’s no time like the present.”
Mary was glad she was facing away from her mother, her hand in Alex’s who was leading her up the stairs, and away from the couple at their back. If she had been facing forward she might have caught sight of her mother’s face when the strangled sound at their back came out of her mouth, she might have also seen the curious shade of red her mother’s face became as she spluttered as well.
As it was, she missed both occurrences. Though the sounds her mother was making were anything but ladylike. A smile touched her lips at the near snorting and strangled scoff coming from her mother.
“Are you well, my dear?” Mister Rutherford asked, and Mary had to fight back the laugh bubbling in her chest. The man would be caught unawares by his new wife’s behavior, but that, like everything associated with Mary’s mother, was none of her daughter’s concern any longer.
Mary turned towards Alex and smiled at the sight of her strong wife. The blonde was still holding her hand, the sure and steady feel of her palm against Mary’s made her feel as if all would be well. Alex was ahead of her, leading her towards the tidy aisles of the mercantile. There were rows of sundries and dry goods, along with a good section of material, fine shoes and stockings, and even delicacies such as scented French soap and expensive perfumes Mary recalled from her days of primping.
She paused in front of a small display of glass bottles. She reached out tentatively when one of the bottles caught her eye but stopped short of touching it. She did not recognize the label, nor the name, Rococo, but the unmistakable name of Guerlain assured her of its quality. The bottle was small and lovely with its gold and blue label, the glass stopper at the top beckoned to her, begging for her to pull it free and indulge her senses. It had been quite some time since Mary had smelled of anything other than the soap she used to wash, and even then, the light floral of the bars was long gone by the afternoon hours.
Mary bit her lip, eyes fastened on the bottle
and her fingers twitched as she nearly reached for it. To purchase the bottle would be nothing but a luxury, a bit of frivolity and wholly unneeded. If she wanted to prove her worth and mettle to her new wife, it was an item she should surely pass up. She bit back a sigh and nodded to herself at the decision to walk away from the perfume. She did not need it, nor would she use her new fiscal trust from Alex on such an unnecessary item. She was here to outfit a home, not satisfy her baser need for indulgence, Mary moved to step away and stopped short when she realized Alex had moved closer. Their still clasped hands were pressed close to Alex’s side and she leaned in to see what had caught Mary’s attention.
“Do you, ah,” Alex cleared her throat and nodded at the perfume display, “are any of these to your liking?”
“Oh yes! These are of the finest quality and I used to wear many of them when I was home in Texas,” Mary blurted out and then winced at the quickness of her answer. “I mean to say that they are...interesting.”
“Interesting hmm?” Alex looked up at her briefly before her brown eyes were once more on the glass bottles.
“Yes, interesting. But not needed,” Mary replied firmly and tugged on her wife’s hand. “Should we continue with our shopping--”
“Which one would you like?”
Mary’s eyes widened at Alex’s question. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, which one of these would you like to own.” Alex jerked her chin towards the bottles. “You looked as if you might touch this one here, the one with the blue and gold label?”
“Ah, yes, that one is new,” Mary admitted. “But I don’t need it,” she added quickly when Alex dropped her hand and reached for the bottle. Mary’s fingers twitched, her palm itching to be in contact once more with Alex’s. She would give up the entire perfume display a hundred times over if she were only able to have Alex’s hand in hers once more.
“Just because you don’t need it doesn’t mean you don’t deserve it,” Alex told her. “If you want this then we should--”
“Already getting your little fill of baubles, hmm? Smart girl. I raised you right then.” The words were uttered in passing by Mary’s mother and Mary felt the blood drain from her face when Alex stopped speaking. The blonde turned, watching Sarah, ahem, Rutherford, sashay by. The other woman was making quite the show of browsing the aisles, but Mary knew her mother better. There was no way she wasn’t tracking her and Alex’s conversation, cataloguing their interactions, what they were doing.
Why she saw fit to do it, Mary couldn’t say but she hated it. She stepped closer to Alex and placed a hand on her arm. “Please, can we put it back and forget about it.”
Alex gave a quick shake of her head. “She’s trying to control you,” she said, looking at Mary with a stern frown on her face, full lips pressed into a thin line, “to control us by planting ugly seeds like that. I’m getting this for you, and that’s that.”
“Bu--”
“No buts, Minnie. You wanted it and it’s my right to spoil my new bride if I so choose, now isn’t it?” Alex raised a hand and tilted Mary’s face up to hers with the tip of her forefinger. The breath caught in her chest, as it often did when Alex’s attention was focused on her and Mary felt a slight tremble run through her body. It was the slightest thing, that gentle touch, nothing more than a press of finger to chin but it did wonders for Mary. She smiled up at her wife for lack of a better or smarter thing to do.
The two women stood as they were, bodies close but not touching, faces angled towards the other, Mary almost leaned into her. So close were they she could feel the warmth of Alex’s body through her dress. She licked her lips and Alex’s brown eyes tracked the movement. Alex’s finger slid up from her chin, the light sensation of it sent a shot of adrenaline through her body. Mary knew her eyes were wide, body held tight as a bowstring, when Alex’s finger stopped its quest at her bottom lip. She leaned close to Mary, flattening her finger, the pressure causing lightning to move straight down her legs.
“Allow me to buy it,” Alex said once she was close enough to whisper. Mary’s eyes drifted closed and the world around her ceased to exist. It mattered not that she was in the mercantile, or that her mother was nearby looking for any sign of weakness she might think to use against her. Against them.
“You’ll let me do that won’t you?” Alex’s breath puffed warm against her skin, the barest brush of her lips grazing Mary’s cheek.
Mary opened her eyes to see Alex looking down at her intently. There was a yearning there she felt she understood and was helpless to ignore.
“I suppose so,” Mary murmured after a moment. She might have said more and even thought to lean into her urge to move closer, to take Alex’s mouth for her own, but just then the shopkeeper made to wait on them. Alex withdrew from her and Mary nearly pouted at the loss of her wife’s touch as she made to stand behind her.
“Alex, how are you?” He greeted them with a warm smile. “Your wedding was lovely. I’ve not had the pleasure of meeting the new missus.”
“Pleased to meet you. I am Mary Ja-“ she stopped, catching herself as she fumbled with her new surname, “Pierce. Mary Pierce.”
Mary was thankful her social training took over then and she managed to compose herself enough to make her introductions properly. Behind her Alex merely grunted and placed the bottle of perfume on the counter with a thud.
“We will take this. Add it to our order please. And whatever Minnie likes.”
The shopkeeper's eyebrows drew up at the name. “Minnie?”
“Oh, ah, she means me,” Mary offered with a quick smile. “It’s a nickname,” she explained.
He nodded, picking up the bottle of perfume. “Minnie it is then. It suits you perfectly.”
Mary beamed at the man, unable to keep the smile off her face at his words. “Thank you.”
“Anytime, Mrs. Pierce. Please let me know if I can assist you with anything. I’ll have this at the front waiting for you.”
Mary turned towards Alex and grinned at her. Alex was frowning in the direction of the shopkeeper and she sighed, stepping closer to her. “Why the sour look?”
Alex’s eyes flicked towards her and almost instantly the woman went soft. She sighed and shook her head, blonde hair gleaming in the morning light that shone brightly through the mercantile windows.
“Small annoyances really,” she said, lifting one shoulder in a shrug, “but it was all for the best I suppose.”
“Oh?” Mary asked, walking past her to look at a collection of fine lace curtains. They were light and airy, just the thing to let in a good bit of sunlight while softening the hard edges of the utilitarian homestead life.
“Mmm, all for the best,” Alex said again, and this time she was smiling at her. “Do you want those as well?” she gestured towards the curtains in Mary’s hands.
“These?” Mary looked down at the material she had been considering and bit her lip. They would be lovely in the kitchen. She ran her fingers over the lace of it and tilted her head to the side considering the fine stitches. A haughty laugh sounded a few feet away and though Mary did not lift her head she knew it was her mother, and what was more, she knew it was done for effect.
Her mother did nothing without cause. Even now she was most likely keeping an eye on Mary, gauging her reaction and how she interacted with Alex, but Mary found she no longer had the patience to care what her mother thought.
She lifted her head, but she did not look towards her mother’s telltale red hair, instead her eyes were on Alex, and Alex alone, the lace curtains in hand.
“I do. I want them very much.”
Her life had been spent for far too long worried over her mother’s wants and motivations---now Mary’s only motivation was how to fulfill her dreams, and those were living a good life in Gold Sky. And she was coming to see that life, thankfully, included a wife like Alex Pierce.
A crack of lightning sounded overhead, the bright flash of it illuminated the sitting room and Mary looked away
from her book with a frown of concern. She had known that it would rain but this...this was an impending storm. The sound of rain falling fast and hard on the roof drew her attention to the ceiling and she swallowed hard at the sudden roar that filled her ears.
This was no storm. This was a raging tempest in every sense of the word, and she turned to look over her shoulder in the direction of the back door. She rose from her chair and made her way towards the kitchen. Alex was out in the downpour; she had left hours before dead set on mending a line of fence for fear that the turning weather would drive their cattle to scatter.
“It’ll only take an hour or so at most. I’ll be home long before the rain arrives.”
Mary’s hands twisted in her skirts at the memory of Alex’s words. It was achingly similar to her father’s reassurances, and the fright she felt bubbling up in her chest was to be expected. Another gale of rain let loose on the home and the windows rattled in their frames. A glance at the windows showed little was visible beyond the panes. If Mary was unable to see, then it went without saying that Alex was blind out in the downpour. How was the other woman finding her way back? What if she were lost and--?
“Stop it,” Mary chastised herself. “This is not the time to lose your head. Stop it.” She squeezed her eyes shut and inhaled deeply. She could do this. She would stay calm and all would be well. When she felt surer of herself she made to start towards the door but stopped short when a sharp pain in her side caused her to falter. She shook her head and put a hand out against the wall with a wince at the ache. Her free hand went to her belly, there was no mistaking that the discomfort she felt must in some way be associated with the baby but how and why?
Mary took in a careful measured breath and focused on staying calm. Now was not the time for her to panic, not when Alex was still missing, and the storm raged on. She must keep a calm head and work to relax. It was then that the downpour was useful, the roar of the rain dulled her senses and she breathed deeply using it to her advantage in this moment. She bowed her head, forehead coming to rest against the wall and breathed in again and again, so focused on her breath was Mary that she missed the opening and resounding slam of the back door. It was only when she felt Alex’s hands on her shoulders that she realized her wife had returned.