Suzanna

by Stevie MacFarlane

  “No, that wouldn’t be fair. You have a chance of making it on your own and my weight could drown you,” Effie protested. “I’m the one who chose this road. I’m the one who was driving the team.”

  “Effie, we sink or swim together,” Suzanna stated firmly.

  Effie looked at her curiously. Finally, she nodded and they tied each other’s wrist to the braid.

  Carefully they rose and pressed their backs against the muddy mountain side.

  “On three we run, jumping as far away from the rock as we can,” Suzanna said softly, squeezing Effie’s hand.

  “One.”

  “Two.”

  “Three.”

  The water was ice cold and black as night. Effie struggled, not knowing which way was up as they were carried along with the current. Terrified and hopeless, she mourned the life she was leaving behind, the children she and Sam would never have. Finally, she felt several tugs and her body being hauled toward the surface. Gasping in air, she saw Suzanna a few feet away scrambling to pull her closer.

  “Hang on, Effie,” she screamed above the roar of the water. Slowly, inch by slow inch, she worked to get them closer to the bank even as they were carried farther and farther downstream. It was impossible to get a grip on anything. Many of the rocks and ledges they encountered were slick with slime. Others jutted from the water, battering their bodies as they slipped by.

  Effie tried to help, tried not to be a drain on Suzanna, but Effie knew in her heart that were she not tied to the other girl, she would surely drown. Just when it seemed unbearable and Effie thought they’d never reach safety, they came to a spot where the current died down and Suzanna dragged Effie to the bank. A large flat rock still held a bit of warmth from the day and they huddled together, choking up water and shivering. Finally, at full dark when they figured no one would find them, they wrapped their arms around each other and lay down, exhausted.

  “I’m sorry, Suzanna,” Effie murmured.

  “It’s all right. I might have done the same thing if I was worried Dalton was on the mountain.”

  “Thank you for saving my life.”

  “It may be you who saved me,” Suzanna sighed into Effie’s hair. “For the first time in a very long time, I’m proud of myself.”

  “Friends?” Effie asked quietly in the dark.

  “Best friends,” Suzanna replied before falling asleep.

  Chapter Eighteen

  They found them at daybreak. It took six strong men with pulley’s and logging equipment to get them up. Sam literally cried with relief as he sat in the back of the wagon and held Effie’s bloody body in his arms. The accident on the mountain had turned out to be minor but his missing wife was another story entirely. They’d searched all night.

  Dalton sat with Suzanna’s head on his lap, kissing her limp hand as they carefully made their way home.

  Tempest insisted the girls be brought to her house where she and Jane coddled and nursed them for nearly three weeks before Doctor Martin judged them well enough to get out of bed. During that time, Effie and Suzanna shared a room at Effie’s insistence and much to Sam’s surprise.

  Neither of them talked much about what happened that day, but they’d forged a bond that would not be broken. Dalton came daily, often staying over if Suzanna was fretful. She’d taken the worst of it, developing a fever from the dirty river water that hung on for days.

  Effie talked to her even when she wasn’t sure Suzanna could hear her, hoping the sound of her voice would pull her back. She was pleased to hear Suzanna’s first words as she croaked out, “Effie?”

  “I’m here,” she assured her from her bed.

  “We made it?”

  “Yes, dear, we did. Dalton’s been here sitting by your bedside every day, only leaving when Ma Ma kicked him out to get some sleep. The man loves you to distraction.”

  “I know,” Suzanna replied weakly. “I’m going to marry him even if he doesn’t have any money.”

  “A wise decision,” Effie smiled, ringing her bell. “Suzanna is awake,” she crowed when Tempest sailed into the room.

  “Mon Dieu,” Tempest yelled. “Jane, come quickly. Suzanna is awake. Send for the doctor. Ah, my poor jeune fille,” she cried. “We were so worried for you. You must marry that young man, ma petite. Oh, how he pines for you. He is nearly as bad as Samuel with his pacing and complaining. It is a wonder I have any carpets left with those two.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Non, I am Ma Ma now. You have saved our precious Effie, now you are one of us, tu comprends. Like my daughter,” she explained. “Oh, the wedding I will give you,” she exclaimed, clapping her hands in delight. “But first you must rest and recover. I will bring broth. You must not set one foot out of the bed,” she warned, wagging her finger as she scurried from the room. “Jane,” she bellowed.

  “Is she always like this?” Suzanna asked in awe.

  “If she loves you,” Effie assured her.

  For more than six weeks they were confined to the house. They read to each other, played cards and learned each other’s secrets. Grace and Amelia came many times to spend the day with them, entertaining them with stories of the brides and keeping them up to date on Mr. Ferguson’s courtship of Elinor, which was not going as well as he’d hoped. It seemed Elinor was quite a bit more opinionated than he’d realized.

  Martha had yet again postponed her marriage to Ethan pointing out she couldn’t bear not to have Effie and Suzanna there. Who would take care of them if everyone came to the wedding, she’d demanded of her frustrated fiancé? How could he argue with that?

  One day, Tempest came into the room carrying a package wrapped in brown paper.

  “This came from the photographer,” she said suspiciously, handing the package to Effie as she sat on Suzanna’s bed. “I do not comprehend this. I thought all the photographs had already been delivered?”

  “These are special, Ma Ma,” Effie replied, looking at Grace and Amelia with a questioning expression. When the girls nodded, she tore off the outer wrapping and took out the contents.

  “Oh my,” she exclaimed as she smiled and then burst into laughter. Opening the dark colored envelope on each one she passed them around.

  “Mon Dieu,” Tempest gasped, sinking onto the bed. “So this is what you were doing when you got the photographer intoxicated. No wonder he avoided me all evening you filles coquines! It is well you are blessed or you would surely be punished,” she insisted before she started laughing. “What am I to do with you? Having your pictures taken in such a state of dishabille!”

  The photographs were beautiful. Effie, Grace and Amelia standing together with their arms linked as they smiled into the camera wearing nothing but their corsets and petticoats. Effie draped on a chaise, her hair hanging over her naked breasts, one hand covering her mons as she smiled seductively. Her only clothing, the garters trimmed in rosettes. The photographer had even added a touch of pink to her cheeks and possibly her nipples that struggled to peek through the golden strands of hair. One picture showed her bending over, the round curve of her bottom visible through her thin drawers, her derringer slipped into her garter as she looked sideways at the camera while her hair hid her breasts.

  Amelia and Grace had not been quite so daring, but the pictures were risqué by anyone’s standards. Grace posed with a sheet draped around her torso, her naked leg fully exposed as she placed her foot on the chaise. Her flame colored hair cascaded wildly down her back. Amelia posed in a thin chemise, her hands gently cupping her small belly as she looked down. A blush had been added to her visible cheek also and her dark hair was swept up, held by a ring of flowers. They were amazing.

  “Who took these?” Suzanna demanded in awe. “I want him, please say we can have him for my wedding,” she begged, grasping Tempest’s hand.

  “Ah, shall I too be punished? What will Pa Pa say?” she asked, placing her hands on her hips as she rose and stared at the girls in dismay. “Let me see them again,” she deman
ded, holding out her hand and wiggling her fingers impatiently.

  Silently they gave Tempest the photographs and waited breathlessly. After looking at each one she handed them back.

  “Oui,” she stated firmly. “We shall hire this man for your wedding, ma petite,” she announced, “but on one condition. I too should like to have my photograph taken,” she informed them, sailing from the room with a laugh. “It shall be our secret, Oui?”

  “Oui, Ma Ma,” they all replied, breathing a sigh of relief.

  “She is merveilleux, is she not?” Suzanna asked sinking back against her pillows.

  Sam and Dalton spent as much time with them as possible with Sam chomping at the bit to get his wife home. Duncan and Hugh sided with his mother. Effie needed the tender care only Tempest could provide, so he waited, marking off the days on the calendar.

  Effie bemoaned her scars, fretting that Dr. Martin wasn’t much of a seamstress, but Suzanna seemed to wear hers as a badge of honor. Still Effie was glad that no scars marred her friend’s beautiful face.

  Clara and Mary had been busy scouting for a building to hold their Ladies Aide Society meetings in, but no final decision would be made until Effie and Suzanna could be included. Apparently this was another bone of contention between Mr. Ferguson and Elinor. While he had no issues with women’s rights, per se, he wasn’t quite sure how he felt about his woman’s rights. Suzanna and Effie found this quite amusing, at least while they were in no position to have any of their desires curtailed, not as long as Tempest was in attendance.

  It was quite lovely for a while, but like all good things, it had to come to an end. The day Dr. Martin declared Effie fit, Samuel carried her out of his mother’s home over abundant protests.

  “You take good care of her, you impudent boy,” Tempest called after them, stomping her foot in anger.

  “I will, Mother,” he promised.

  “I’ll miss you, Suzanna,” Effie called over his shoulder. “Come and visit me as soon as you can.”

  “I will, Effie,” Suzanna replied.

  “I think Suzanna is nearly ready to return to the hotel with me,” Dalton stated firmly, trying to profit from Sam’s lead.

  “She most certainly will not,” Tempest replied sweetly. “My petit jeune fille will stay here until the wedding. Tell him, my husband. It is only proper,” she insisted.

  “I’m afraid she’s right, lad. Had I known Suzanna was staying with you at the Payne unchaperoned, I would have put a stop to it. Now that you’re engaged you must follow the rules. You ken?”

  “I understand,” Dalton sighed, noting Suzanna’s brilliant smile.

  “Besides, a hotel is no place for my injured bébé,” Tempest continued. “She needs care and you must work, Oui?”

  “Oui,” Dalton barked back, slamming his hat on his head and going out the door. He could have sworn he heard Tempest giggle.

  Sam carried his wife into the house much as he had on their wedding night. This time he placed her carefully on the couch before the fire and made sure she was comfortable.

  “We’re not going to discuss that horrible night, Euphemia,” he began, pacing. “There’s no point in asking why you chose to take a route I told you was unsafe. I knew what a stubborn little wretch you were before I married you. There’s also no point in telling you how I feel about your reckless and disobedient behavior. No doubt you’ve spent the last few weeks wondering what form my discipline would take once you’d recovered and how long it would continue.”

  Effie nodded, biting her lip.

  “Suffice it to say that if you ever, ever put me through anything like that again of your own volition, and survive, I will kill you myself,” he ground out. His eyes flashed, his teeth clenched and his body shook with emotion.

  “Oh, Sam,” she cried, holding out her arms to him and sobbing when he came into them. “I’m sorry I’ve made you suffer so.”

  Sam held her tight, his own tears mingling with hers.

  “Don’t ever do anything so foolish again, my love,” he warned, giving her a slight shake as he drew back from her and held her gaze. “The price you pay will not be acceptable to you.”

  “I won’t, Sam. I promise,” she whispered with a shiver. “Take me upstairs,” she pleaded, cupping his cheek. “I need your tenderness tonight.”

  “And you shall have it,” he replied, kissing her palm before sweeping her into his arms and carrying her upstairs.

  Dalton courted Suzanna with flowers, candy and trinkets as he waited for their wedding day to arrive. He had very little input into the actual plans, but, as long as she ended up with a ring on her finger and he had a certificate in his pocket, he didn’t care.

  In the end, it was much like his dream. His beautiful girl came down the stairs on Duncan’s arm wearing an ivory satin gown that shimmered in the candlelight. Gardenias adorned each row of chairs, reminding him of the church in his vision as she glided gracefully toward him.

  At long last he knew who was standing at the alter awaiting her and no man could have loved her more. Radiant and smiling, she stopped to kiss Effie’s cheek where she stood as her matron of honor. Sam stood to Dalton’s left, the ring in his pocket as he waited for the priest to ask for it.

  It was perfect, or nearly so for he still hadn’t told Suzanna his full name. Everything seemed to be in slow motion until the priest spoke directly to him.

  “Do you, Dalton Vanderbilt take this woman to be your wife?”

  “Vanderbilt?” Suzanna asked weakly

  “I do,” he replied, ignoring her question.

  “And do you Suzanna Celeste Jefferies take this man to be your husband?”

  “Vanderbilt?” she asked again.

  “It’s a long story, darlin’. Now answer the nice man,” he advised.

  “What?”

  “He wants to know if you want to marry me,” Dalton explained with a smile.

  “You’re rich aren’t you?” she demanded, stomping her foot.

  Dalton nodded.

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” she asked, smacking him with her bouquet and sending petals everywhere.

  “I wanted you to marry me because you love me, not for my money.”

  “I do love you,” she snapped.

  “I know that. I just wanted to make sure you did. Now are you going to marry me or do we have to go somewhere private for a discussion?”

  “For heaven’s sake, Suzanna, just say yes,” Effie hissed leaning close.

  “Um, yes.”

  “So you will marry him?” the priest asked, somewhat bewildered.

  “She said Oui,” Tempest added, motioning with her hand for them to proceed and quickly.

  Taking the ring from Sam, the priest blessed it and instructed Dalton to slip it on her finger.

  “I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss your bride.”

  Dalton took her bedraggled flowers and handed them to Effie. He then proceeded to kiss Suzanna until she was nearly limp in his embrace as the women giggled and the men whooped.

  “It’s been a long few months,” he whispered against her lips, “and the last time you’ll sleep anywhere but in my bed,” he added.

  “I have no intention of letting you sleep at all tonight,” she replied with a wink just before they were swamped by their friends offering their best wishes.

  Dalton grinned. Some things were worth waiting for.

  The End

  Martha

  The Marriage Market Book Five

  Sneak Preview

  I hope you enjoy this preview of Martha – The Marriage Market - Book Five coming soon:

  Chapter One

  He watched her, his exquisite new bride flitting from one group of wedding guests to another. Tiny wisps of golden hair escaped from her intricate bun to lie sweetly against her flushed skin. She was happy; he could see that in her brilliant smile and shining dark eyes, the way she giggled when her friends teased her and her gaze sought him out, blushing.

 
“Lovely, isn’t she,” Jonah Blackthorn remarked as he joined Dalton at the bar. “What a transformation. You’re a lucky man, Dalton.”

  “You’ll get no argument from me,” Dalton replied. “Any word yet?”

  Jonah removed an envelope from his inside pocket and passed it to Dalton who slipped it

  inside his coat.

  “I received it this morning,” the ex-Pinkerton man replied. “Everything she told you is the absolute truth.”

  Dalton nodded, his eyes never leaving Suzanna.

  “No surprises?” he asked.

  “A few,” Jonah replied with a grim lipped expression. “Apparently her father couldn’t do it in a nice clean way like hanging himself from a beam in the barn. No, he had to blow his damn fool head right off his shoulders.” Jonah shook his head in disgust as Dalton cringed.

  “Suzanna found him,” Jonah continued softly as Dalton stiffened beside him. “I’ve been told she didn’t speak for nearly three months, didn’t leave the house for six. Poor girl.”

  “No wonder she sees men as a means to an end. The one man she should have been able to count on failed her completely.”

  “There’s more,” Jonah warned.

  “Wait,” Dalton replied, holding up his hand. “I have a role to play, remember?” Striding across the room, he soon caught up with his wife, Effie, Grace, Amelia and Tempest. “Just where are you ladies rushing off to?” he asked suspiciously, holding his hands behind his back as he rocked forward on his heels.

  “Why nowhere,” Suzanna answered, her cheeks pink. Apparently she was having great difficulty keeping the guilty smile from her lips.

  “We are going to freshen up,” Tempest explained. “It is so warm in here with all the dancing, Oui?”

  “I agree, however, I wouldn’t mind taking my bride out for some fresh air,” he offered.

  “No,” Grace nearly yelled before gathering her wits. “I mean, we need to help Suzanna with some personal things,” she continued as her gaze trailed away.

  Jonah snorted behind Dalton.