Suzanna

by Stevie MacFarlane

“How was I supposed to know that?” she whispered.

  “I guess you couldn’t have known,” Cole finally conceded, looking at the high ceiling as though for patience. “So why did you do it? Why work so hard to make my home nice if you thought you were never going to live there?” he asked, watching her closely.

  “Because I felt sorry for you,” she admitted softly.

  Cole stared at her in disbelief, taking in the sweet, soft curve of her cheek, the fullness of her breasts and looked away before barking out a harsh laugh. For the first time in his life, he was somewhat embarrassed.

  “You felt sorry for me? A pretty little thing like you, a woman who traveled across the country, probably without a penny to her name felt sorry for a big oaf like me?” he drawled sarcastically.

  “Yes,” she shouted back. “And don’t you feel sorry for me; I don’t want your pity.”

  “And I don’t want yours,” he shot back, beginning to circle the desk.

  “I know,” she whispered, darting around to the other side when he got too close. “That’s why I couldn’t tell you.”

  “I’m afraid I still don’t understand, Charlotte. Why did you feel sorry for me?” he asked quietly, still moving.

  “Because you didn’t want a wife and made that perfectly clear,” she replied, keeping her blue eyes on him. “Because you got trapped by Suzanna, a woman who had no genuine feeling for you. Because you were all alone, putting your life on the line every day and coming home to that gloomy little house each night.”

  “So?” he asked gently with a small smile, seeing that she was caught up in her emotional outburst and not paying proper attention to their game of cat and mouse.

  “It made me sad,” she admitted so softly he had to strain to hear her. “You had plenty of people who liked and respected you, but no one who loved you and you were going to wed a woman who never would. I thought if I made a nicer home for you, Suzanna might come to see…”

  “What did you hope she’d come to see, Charlotte?”

  “A good man, a strong man, someone who would care for her because he’d made a commitment and I knew in my heart you would not break your promise to her.”

  “But I did break my promise,” he insisted gently. “I broke it the night I took you in my arms and made you mine.”

  “You didn’t know,” she cried, defending him. “You thought you were loving Suzanna. It doesn’t count. It was me. My fault and…”

  “Who was I loving that night, Charlotte?” he asked, finally reaching her side, but not putting his hands on her. “Who did I fall in love with that night?”

  Charlotte gasped and tilted her head back, her eyes wide with shock.

  “I fell in love with the woman who cleaned and shined and polished. I fell in love with the woman who left a warm light on to welcome me home,” he said, tipping her head back with his hands cupping her face. “The woman who curled against me in the night and accused me of hogging the bed,” he said with a smile. “I fell in love with you, Charlotte. I’ll never forget the sound of your sweet voice calling out my name in the dark, your soft arms holding me close.”

  “In time you’ll …”

  “No, Charlotte, I won’t. I can’t forget. I don’t want to forget,” he murmured against her lips. “You’ve brought sunshine into a world I never realized was so gloomy.”

  “But Marshal…”

  “It’s Cole. I’m going to marry you, Charlotte. Here, tonight, I’m going to marry you and take you home,” he informed her, using his thumbs to brush the tears from her cheeks. “Every night I’m going to sleep with you in my arms, your sweet body close to me, and, Charlotte, I intend to make you cry out my name often, very often,” he said before he claimed her lips.

  Charlotte collapsed in his arms and kissed him back, sighing in delight when his lips moved to her neck, nibbling. He was holding her up, her toes barely scraping the floor and she felt her body melting into his.

  “Don’t you think we should discuss this further?” she panted out, as his hand cupped her bottom pressing her against him.

  “Sweetheart, I don’t think that’s a good idea,” he replied, staring into her eyes. “If we discuss things, we’ll have to talk about the fact that you deceived me and that there was a distinct possibility you were going to let me marry the wrong woman. There’s also the issue of you sneaking out of my bed, not to mention I’m not particularly fond of you riding all over creation alone, after dark. I have very little doubt that discussion would end with you over my lap getting your very pretty bottom spanked,” he said with a sigh, sadly shaking his head.

  Charlotte stiffened in his arms for a moment before taking his big head in her hands and looking into his teasing gray eyes.

  “I think you’re right, marshal. No need to discuss those things, none at all,” she agreed.

  Cole smiled, kissed the tip of her nose and set her down with a slightly stinging swat to her bottom. He laughed when she rubbed her backside with a pout.

  “Marshal Hadley,” Martha called from outside the door. “Do you think we could have the bride back for a few minutes? We’d like to help her get ready.”

  Taking the key from his pocket, Cole unlocked the door.

  “As much as it pains me to part from her,” he replied with a wink. “I guess I’ll have to allow it. Hurry back, sweetheart,” he whispered, kissing her hand before letting Martha and the others spirit her away.

  Chapter Ten

  Upstairs, Martha made some final adjustments to an ice blue satin gown she’d secretly been working on for weeks.

  “Where did this come from?” Charlotte asked in wonder as she held out the beautiful dress and turned slowly in front of the full length mirror.

  “Tempest has been picking up material and patterns since the beginning. In her mind everyone would require a beautiful wedding dress at some point and she wanted to be ready. She billed Hugh,” Martha said with a laugh. “She thought it was the least he could do for the brides. Please don’t tell the others. It would spoil her surprise.”

  “I won’t,” Charlotte promised. “My goodness this is lovely.”

  “No, you’re lovely, Charlotte, inside and out. You love the Marshal, don’t you?”

  Charlotte blushed.

  “You don’t have to answer. I can see it in your eyes,” Martha said gently. “I’m only sorry I didn’t realize sooner how things would turn out. I would have helped you more on the house.”

  “It doesn’t matter. It scares me to know how close I came to watching Suzanna wear this dress and marry the man I love,” Charlotte whispered.

  “Suzanna would never have worn that dress,” Martha insisted. “Tempest specified this material was for you and no one else. I believe her words were, ‘Ah, no one shall wear this but ma petite Charlotte. With her enchanting azure eyes, she will look merveilleux! Such a charming and kind hearted jeune fille is certain to marry well. You agree, Martha, Oui?’ ”

  Charlotte laughed and hugged Martha in delight.

  “She’s wonderful. I wish I had a mother-in-law like her.”

  “Do you have a mother-in-law?” Martha asked as she picked up a blue ribbon, weaving it through Charlotte’s curls.

  “I don’t know,” Charlotte answered dumbfounded. “I’ll have to ask Cole.”

  “But not tonight,” Martha said with a wink.

  “No, not tonight,” Charlotte replied, her cheeks blushing wildly before she covered them with her hands and laughed.

  “I’m still waiting,” Hugh growled from just outside the door.

  “We’re coming,” Martha called.

  Hugh took Charlotte’s arm and led her to the top of the stairs.

  “You look lovely,” he whispered, patting her hand. “Far lovelier than Cole probably deserves,” he teased.

  Charlotte giggled and descended the stairs, Hugh’s strong arm supporting her until he turned her over to her future husband. They were all there, Tempest and Duncan, Sam and Effie, Grace and Jonah. Even Et
han was there as he’d been planning to spend some time with Martha.

  There was a new Catholic church being built in town and the priest was only too happy to perform the marriage. Charlotte had no trouble promising to obey her groom. It was exactly the kind of marriage she always intended to have and Cole couldn’t have been prouder to take her as his wife.

  As soon as Cole kissed his bride, furniture was moved to the walls and the dancing began. Hugh knew a few fellows from town who were musicians and he’d asked them to come along when he went to get the priest.

  Doctor Martin stopped by to speak with Jane and ended up leading a Virginia Reel before he knew it.

  “When are we going to set the date?” Ethan asked as he twirled Martha in his arms.

  “As soon as I find a heavy skillet,” she replied with a laugh.

  “Is this a custom in your family?” the big blonde Swede asked in confusion.

  “Not yet, but I think it’s going to become one,” she said, still grinning.

  “I do not understand, but I will gladly buy you this heavy skillet if it will hurry you along.”

  “Oh Ethan, it’s just a silly joke between Charlotte and I.”

  “Then explain it so that I may laugh too,” he said.

  “Somehow I don’t think you’d find it funny,” she admitted wryly.

  Ethan stopped dancing and took her hand, guiding her to the door.

  “Get your wrap, Martha. We will take a breath of fresh air and discuss what I will not find funny,” he ordered mildly.

  Taking her wrap from a peg by the door, Ethan draped it around her shoulders. On the porch, he steered her toward the farthest corner, his big body blocking her from view.

  “Tell me.”

  “It’s nothing, Ethan, really. Just a joke.”

  “Tell me,” he repeated. “A husband and wife should not have secrets from each other and I can tell this is more than what you say. Something is bothering you. There is a reason you have not settled on a date for our wedding.

  “You accepted my offer of marriage. You have met my family and I have met yours,” he pointed out, indicating the people inside the house. “Why are you delaying? Have I done something that offended you? You must tell me, Martha. It is not fair to keep me dangling. I want a wife and a family. There are other brides I could choose from,” he informed her.

  Martha stiffened and turned away, staring at the incredibly tall trees silhouetted in the moonlight.

  “Do you want another bride?” she asked. “Because if you do, you should feel free…”

  “I want you, Martha,” he insisted, his strong hands gripping her shoulders. “You know this. Did I not claim you the moment I saw you?”

  “Yes,” she admitted.

  “Then why do you doubt my feelings for you?” he asked.

  “I don’t, not really, it’s just that I don’t know if I can be submissive toward you,” she whispered.

  “What is this, submissive?” he asked puzzled.

  “Submissive, subservient,” she said. “You know, ‘mind your words’ as you put it.”

  “When did I say this?”

  “The night Suzanna went missing with Marshal Hadley,” she reminded him. “You said you didn’t know whether you wanted to spank me or kiss me.”

  Ethan laughed.

  “I feel the same way right this moment.”

  “See, that’s exactly what I mean,” she hissed, turning to face him.

  “Martha, I feel great love for you and passion as well. As my wife you will receive my devotion and protection as well as my guidance. Can you not trust that I would never hurt you?”

  “I don’t believe you would truly hurt me, not in any permanent way, but I would find it highly embarrassing were you to discipline me as a child,” she insisted.

  “I see. Are you perhaps worried that you will behave as a child?” he asked, tilting his head as he studied her in the moonlight.

  “No, of course not.”

  “Then why are we talking about this? You are not making much sense, Älskling.”

  “Because of the skillet,” she nearly shouted. “You asked about the skillet?”

  “And you still have not explained the joke,” he pointed out.

  “Charlotte and I were talking the other day and she told me that she expected any husband would discipline his wife if the need arose and she didn’t find it strange in the least.”

  “But you did, find it strange?”

  “Yes. I am not a child, Ethan. I’m twenty-six years old and have managed my own life for quite some time without the advice or assistance of a man. Maybe I am too set in my ways to be married?”

  “Ah, such an advanced age. I myself am nearing thirty. Do you think I am too old to make a good husband and father?”

  “No, but it’s different with men,” she sighed, her shoulders slumping.

  “Martha, to me you are young and very beautiful,” Ethan said tipping her chin up and forcing her to look at him. “Since you are already at such an advanced age, don’t you think we should hurry up and get married so we can start having babies?” he teased.

  “Oh, Ethan,” she sighed. “You make me sound silly.”

  “You are being a little silly,” he agreed gently. “Do you have deep feelings for me? Do you love me?”

  “I believe I do, Ethan,” she replied with a wry smile.

  “Then if the only thing holding us up is some skillet, I will buy you the biggest, most durable skillet in all of Seattle.”

  “Hadn’t you better ask me why?” she asked as she threw herself into his arms laughing.

  Ethan kissed her deeply and passionately before whispering “why” in her ear.

  “To hit you over the head with if you ever become overly bossy or beat me,” she whispered back, holding her breath.

  Setting her down, he took her shoulders in his hands and looked deep into her eyes.

  “I will confess that I can become bossy at times, especially with the workers under me. If I act that way with you, I will expect you to point out my shortcomings. As far as striking you, it’s possible I would treat you as I would a disobedient child, placing you over my knees and pointing out your shortcomings with the flat of my hand on your bottom.

  “I also better tell you that if you should ever move to hit me in the head with a heavy skillet, you will not sit down for many days, but I will buy it for you, just as I’ve promised.”

  “Ethan…”

  “I will be an honorable husband to you, Martha, as I am an honorable man. Is that not enough for you?” he asked, stroking her cheek.

  “It is enough, Ethan,” she replied, resting her head on his wide chest. His arms gathered her close, his lips brushing her hair.

  “Set the date,” he ordered gruffly as he pressed against her letting her feel his desire for the first time.

  Martha shivered and pulled him closer, surrendering herself to his care.

  “One month, Ethan. We’ll be married in one month.”

  Picking her up, he twirled her around in delight before letting her slide slowly down his tall frame.

  “Why does that sound like such a very long time?” he murmured as he claimed her lips.

  The celebration lasted until well after midnight and many of the guests were a little tipsy from the punch. A jovial Sam and Jonah went out to the barn and managed to bring the wagon around to the front of the house without mishap after the last drop had been drunk.

  Doctor Martin stole a kiss from Jane as he bid her goodnight, and Jane stole a slice of wedding cake to put under her pillow.

  “Cole, my friend,” Sam cried as the couples followed the groom and his bride to the wagon. “You have joined a very elite group tonight. You’ve married a beautiful woman and I congratulate you,” he said, kissing Charlotte’s hand after Cole placed her in the wagon.

  “Sam, you’re intoxicated,” Effie scolded.

  “I’ll have you know that I was much more intoxicated the night I took you on…�
��

  “Hush, Sam,” she laughed. “Good grief, I’ve married a drunkard.”

  “Drunk on love, my darling,” he insisted.

  “Hugh, do something,” Amelia pleaded laughing.

  “I think it’s time we started our temperance group,” Grace giggled.

  “Indeed it is,” Effie agreed, pulling Sam away from the wagon as Cole snapped the reins. “Only Hugh seems able to control himself. Amelia, you have done well for yourself in your choice of husbands. Miss Pettigrew would be proud.”

  “Thank you,” Amelia replied with a slight curtsey.

  “Let’s get together this week and start looking for a place to hold our meetings,” Grace said with a frown as Jonah leaned heavily on her shoulder. She staggered slightly before elbowing her husband in the ribs. “Apparently we’ve delayed too long.”

  “I think you’d better spend the night,” Amelia suggested as Hugh stepped up and steered Jonah toward the porch. “You too, Sam.”

  “Well, if you insist,” Sam responded with a grin. “In the morning we’ll all discuss this temperance business.” Wrapping an arm around Effie, he patted her bottom as they moved toward the house.

  “We most certainly will,” she replied, dodging a sharper swat.

  “Not too early though,” Sam suggested. “I have a feeling I’m going to have a headache in the morning.”

  “I have a feeling you’re going to have a headache no matter when we discuss it,” Effie warned with a grin.

  Cole pulled the wagon as close to the porch as he could and jumped down. In a few strides he was at Charlotte’s side lifting her carefully into his arms. He didn’t set her down. Instead, he carried her over the threshold and into the house, wiping his feet carefully.

  “You can put me down now,” she suggested, her cheeks pink.

  Slowly, he lowered her to the floor and cleared his throat.

  “I’ll go and take care of the horses. It will give you a few minutes to get ready for bed.”

  He took his time; wanting to make sure she didn’t feel rushed and entered the house quietly when he’d finished tending to the animals. A light burned in the bedroom and he took off his boots by the back door. Quickly washing up at the kitchen sink, he followed the warm glow.