Plain Arrangement (Simple Life, Simply Love SHORTS Book 1)

by KQ Salsbury

  "I know," he says.

  "And yet, I am still aloft." I cannot even put up the pretext of being irritated with him. I'm near overcome with joy. I am certain it is joy and not merely the blood pooling in my head.

  "And there you will remain. In fact," he says, securing the satchel, "if I can find a way to not have your feet touch the ground until I set you down to say your vows, it would suit me fine."

  "Do you really feel that is necessary?"

  "Elizabeth," he says, sliding me smoothly onto the seat. His face hovers near mine for a moment and I think he is going to kiss me, but he steps away and secures the reins. "After so many missteps, I think I would rather not give the opportunity for another."

  He hops up behind me, wraps his arm around me, and rides what might accurately be called too fast for safety's sake in the direction of the justice of the peace's house.

  At the end of the lane, I venture to ask, "Nathan? Do you truly love me?"

  His lips touch the skin below my ear. My shoulders draw up in a pleasant shudder. "Yes. More than the first taste of chocolate…more than rain after drought…. more than moon treasures midnight." Kiss. "Do you love me?"

  I thread my fingers through where his hold me close to him. "At least as much as that."

  We ride for a while in silence. Then, I laugh at a thought that occurs to me. "More than chocolate? I am quite the fortunate female."

  I hear him smile. "Why do you love me?"

  "Because," I begin, then pause to consider. "Because I cannot help it."

  The wind cools where his lips leave dampness near my temple and he hold me close as we begin the winding up the lane toward the justice of the peace.

  "Let me see if I understand you correctly, Judson." The groggy, older man rubs his eyes and holds a lantern up to light where we stand on his steps. "You wish to marry this young woman despite the unholy hour?"

  "If we were worried about holy, I'd have knocked on the pastor's door."

  "You Old Staters do realize you've moved to a place that allows for common law marriage? No need to come barging in here at all hours. Just tell folks you're hitched and be done with it."

  I feel myself shrink back at his rebuke.

  Nathan slides an arm around my waist. "I think we'd like a certificate if it's all the same to you and we'll make our peace with the Lord come Sunday."

  Sniffing, the man ushers inside. "Martha, wake up. I need you to sign as witness."

  Then, never looking up from shuffling his papers, he speaks to me. "You're from that place out near the lake, aren't you child?"

  I bristle. I know what he means. He means he's been to my house plenty of times. He's seen my mother locked up plenty of times.

  Nathan takes my hand.

  "You've done well for yourself, haven't you?" He says to me after a few moments of weighted silence.

  "That I have," Nathan says quickly, pretending that the question was not directed at me. "Will this take much longer?"

  "Come on into the parlor then." The constable walks ahead and his wife looks utterly disinterested until she sees who has come to wed at this hour.

  "Nathan? Nathan Judson? I'd heard that you might be coming round to visit us in the near future. So, this must be Miss Montgomery." The woman blathers on about how the ladies in town will be so saddened to see him off the market and to lose out on big church wedding, too. I fidget, glancing upward every few moments to gauge Nathan's reaction to learning that his ancient arrangement had not remained a private matter after all.

  After a full minute of solo scuttlebutt that would shame a pack of hens, Nathan balks. "Tell me, will your wife be able to serve as a proper witness if she cannot discern the identity of my fiancée?"

  The man clears his throat and begins.

  About half a minute later, I am married.

  "You may kiss the bri-"

  Nathan lifts me clean off the floor and presses his lips to mine.

  At first, I stiffen in shock. Then I cannot stop my smile against his lips.

  I really wish I was not overwhelmed by all the developments of the evening; I can barely feel my own lips much less register the feeling of Nathan's on mine.

  "Really!" Martha huffs. "I never!"

  I resist the urge to say "And you never will."

  On our way out, Nathan hands the couple an envelope.

  "What is this?" The man asks.

  "Your fee, I suspect. My father instructed I give it to you."

  Smiling at me, Nathan lifts me back onto the saddle once he's settled.

  "Your Pa says here you're to take a room at the hotel for two nights. And I say he should've paid a greater fee for performing a wedding this late. As if common law isn't good enough for the likes of you."

  Nathan reaches down and snatches our marriage certificate from Martha before her signature is even dry.

  Then, he tips his hat and we are on our way.

  Our way.

  Chapter 13

  I've never really understood the purpose in carrying a wife over the threshold.

  Is it a custom reserved especially for the wedding night? What if one spends the wedding night away from home, as I am?

  Do I get carried again when it's for home?

  Whatever the case, I've spent precious little time on my own two feet since Nathan looked at me holding Sarah's garter, made an unearthly sound, and charged at me like a bull, scooping me over his shoulder and out the backdoor without breaking stride.

  For all the talking we've ever done, I understood that clearer than anything else.

  So, here, after carrying me up the stairs of the Free-State Hotel amid catcalls and hoots from the bar patrons below, Nathan is poised to carry me into our room.

  "Ready?" He smiles.

  "Ready," I say. I say it, but I hear my voice falter at the last.

  He steps through and kicks the door shut behind him before setting me down.

  I watch him set the bag down by the hearth.

  He puts his hat on the hook.

  I look at my hands folded in front of me.

  I can hear him open the bag. Pour water in the wash basin. Remove his boots.

  There's a hangnail on my index finger. I fight the urge to bite it off.

  Suddenly, his hand is on my face, under my chin. "Elizabeth," he says.

  I want to look up at him, but I can't. I simply can't.

  I blink back a nervous tear and when my vision clears, he is there. He is down on bended knee and looking up at me.

  "After all this, do you now fear me?"

  "No," I sniff. "I have fears, but they do not rest in you."

  He tucks a loose lock behind my ear. "This is only natural," he says, his eyes dart to the bed. "But we need do only what comes naturally to you."

  I cannot help a nervous bubble of laughter. "Then, I should spend our wedding night cooking and cleaning."

  A half smile from him. He stretches up from beneath me enough to press his lips to mine.

  Once.

  Twice.

  Oh.

  Oh, I feel his lips now. Like those silk ribbons or wet satin.

  His hand weaves back through my hair, freeing it more.

  Sitting back on his heels, he looks at me for a moment. Tilts his head. Slowly winds a lock of my hair around his fingers.

  "Um." He clears he throat quietly. "It's been a long day...plus the ride…" He stands and takes my hand within his own and steps a solitary step toward the basin. "Maybe we should, um, that is…"

  "Nathan," I say and he turns to look back at me. He opens his mouth and I know he is searching for some words to calm me, but I spare him.

  I place my finger over his mouth and reach for a wash cloth.

  Dip it in the wash basin. Smooth it over his brow. Down his face. Under his eyes.

  He hums a single note.

  Some drips fall on his shirt, the color darkens in splotches.

  I dunk the cloth again but, when I look back to Nathan, he already has a towe
l. He smiles at me in a way no one has ever done before. I am warmed to my toes.

  He runs the soaked cloth over my face. Steps closer. Holds my hair back in his other hand.

  He is so close; only when he steps away do I feel the coolness where my dress has become drenched.

  One more pass over his face and neck leaves Nathan's shirt at least as wet, the fabric clinging to his chest. I cannot help but note the colors. Contours. Lines.

  He looks to me, gauging my reaction, and starts to unbutton.

  But he stops.

  Stops and places my hand over the buttons instead. Watching his eyes, unable to blink, I push the rounded edge through and open the first.

  Slowly, he undoes the first of mine.

  My hand slides to the second.

  Then his.

  This game continues until his shirt is open and gone, until my dress falls to the floor, until I understand it's not about washing, until it isn't a game anymore.

  He bathes me, but it is merely pretense now. My slip is soaked.

  I wash him and he turns slowly so I can reach his back. Rivulets run down and over his planes.

  Rustling. I discern he's unfastening his pants, but he's trying to be discreet, trying not to scare me.

  I'm unsure anymore if it would…but I realize I love him all the more for his concern.

  I watch my hand rise and splay gently across his back. With a thwack, my towel hits the floor.

  He turns at the sound, apprehensive.

  My lips are dry. I lick them. Lean in. Kiss above his heart.

  In the bed, he kisses away the straps of my slip.

  Kisses me until I don't notice where all the clothes went.

  Kisses me until I become brazen enough to urge his hand lower.

  Then, I think better of it. "Nathan," I breathe against him, hands cupping around his face. "I do not know how to please you."

  His arms wrap under and around my back as he pulls me tighter against him. "You need only let me know how you feel…how I make you feel." He kisses me again, his voice ragged. I lose track of the difference between his skin and mine. "I will swear to do the same. We've witnessed what happens otherwise."

  His words calm me. He is right. This is right.

  It is the first of many wisdoms I learn.

  With whispers, he explains to me what will happen.

  With unworded sounds, he tells me how much he wants me until I believe and understand.

  With hands he holds me like a woman is held by a man.

  Then, sometime during the night, when the waxing moon paints the room in a glow of unearthly truths, with every part himself, myself…us, he shows me what I am to him.

  Makes himself a husband and me a wife. Lovers. And partners. And life.

  He rests his forehead on mine.

  "I love you."

  I cannot be certain if he said it or I.

  Chapter 14

  Most assuredly, this is a dream.

  The first clue is that I've not had to prepare breakfast for the first time in my remembrance.

  I have been blessed with dreams of Nathan before. I've dreamt of glasses of lemonade, and courting, and picnic lunches along a creek path.

  Though I'd never admit it aloud, I've dreamt of him kissing me, touching me.

  Hand to Heaven, I have never, ever, ever, ever dreamt of him naked and wound up like a twister rung him through cotton bedding.

  A twister that had no mind to leave the manly goods of him covered. I try to ignore them. It. But it watches at me.

  I swear.

  Determinedly facing forward, I give it the side-eye. It returns the favor.

  Just when I think I have summoned the guts to yank covers over it, a ruckus downstairs interrupts our staring contest. The racket thunders up the steps and, heeding my learned need for self-preservation, I hop from bed and don my dress.

  Nathan stirs behind me. "Wha-?"

  "Nathan Judson!" The door rattles on its hinges under the banging fist of what sounds to be Mr. Montgomery. "Nathan Judson, you no-good, two-bit, cheat! Open up! Open up I say, you bilk!"

  Within seconds, a very agitated Nathan has on his pants and shirt and opens the door, wide and proud.

  "Montgomery."

  "Tabitha has suffered ruination, gone up the spout even." Mr. Montgomery looks ever so much like a pickled beet.

  "It is little wonder she's scandalized," Nathan's voice sounds so cold, but his hand reaches behind him to where I cower and finds mine. "The fact that your daughter went shooting her mouth off all over town and brought about her own embarrassment fails to move me."

  "Does your word mean nothing?" I can practically here the spittle fly as he speaks.

  "When last I saw Tabitha, I was between hay and grass. A boy. Montgomery, I would not recognize your daughter in a crowd much less wish to marry her. Doubtless, she feels the same…so I suspect your insistence is more out of a belief my family is flush and might relieve a strain on your pocketbook."

  Montgomery splutters for a moment, and then acquires a near malevolent gleam in his eye. "What say we make all this untidiness go away with a good, old fashioned bargain? You purchase the parcel of inherited land what brought me to this godforsaken region and I will leave you in peace."

  I cannot believe my ears. Firstly, that Mr. Montgomery would truly use his daughter as bargaining chip. Seems my mother is not alone in her valuation of offspring. But, secondly, and far more intriguingly, I can think of no land that would be recently inherited other than Old Man Nelson 's , and it is but a stone's throw from the Judson's.

  I tap Nathan's back, hoping to bend his ear, but he turns quickly to me and winks. A smile splits my face; he already knows of what land Montgomery speaks.

  Nathan sighs exaggeratedly and I stifle a giggle at his play-acting. "Very well, Montgomery. I'll relieve you of whatever worthless land you possess for 75 cents an acre and you can try and pawn your daughter off on the next unsuspecting soul."

  Mr. Montgomery is more than prepared; he's brought the deed and a promissory note filled all but for price and Nathan's signature. Despite his machinations, clearly he failed to research the going rate for land and he hastily parts with his inheritance at half its worth.

  "Well, you may harbor no worries on that count," Mr. Montgomery is now positively like at cat with cream. "Word came to us this early morning of your elopement and Tabitha's already run off with the livery boy."

  I burst out laughing and Nathan barely utters "Congratulations" before slamming the door.

  Later, we make proper use of the large bed once more. “Nathan,” I say, splashing my face."I know we're paid up here for another night, but I wish greatly to see my sister." I grin broadly, a thought occurring to me for the first time. "Both of them."

  "We should have to be a great deal quieter in my…our bed than we have been here," he protests, but begins dressing as he speaks. "However, I find I can deny you nothing."

  "I suspect you'd like to inspect your newly acquired farm along the way, too, dear husband?" I mean to tease but find myself aglow as I speak his title for the first time.

  "Our land," he corrects and slides on his boot. "Dear wife."

  The ride back is a bit slow and cumbersome as I'm sitting at an angle this time. It was at Nathan's insistence and though I assured myself it was merely a bit of boastful pride on his part, I can already tell that I am sorer than I realized. A traditional saddle ride may well have proven torturous indeed.

  Our happy mood fades quickly as we wind down the lane toward the Judson homestead. Something is amiss.

  Not a soul is about. The wash I strung yesterday is still upon the line.

  "Wait here." Nathan leaves me on the saddle, ready to ride out quickly if need be, as he dismounts and hastens up the front steps.

  The front door no sooner smacks shut behind him then he is back out again, head down and moving just as quickly.

  "Good gravy, Boy!" Harrison, wearing what looks to be every piece of hi
s bedding rather than clothing, chases Nathan from the house. "I'd thought you might've turned a new leaf of sensibility. Two days! I paid for the hotel for two days for the purpose of a honeymoon and yet you show up here barely beyond the halfway mark!"

  "While grateful," Nathan says from behind me on the saddle, "as it was our honeymoon, we thought to spend it as we pleased."

  Harrison gathers the fabric closer around him and I turn away in embarrassment.

  "Not your honeymoon, Son. Mine."

  Covered in a misbuttoned dress, Cynthia quietly steps behind Harrison, peeking around his shoulder.

  Nathan apologizes profusely and I am at a greater loss for words.

  Stunned, we ride away with the understanding we will return tomorrow after going to my mother's house and removing whatever is not rightfully hers. There is not much, but Nathan hooks up a cart both for me to ride in and to carry my sister's and my meager possessions.

  I stop him when he inexplicably tosses a spare saddle in the back.

  "Whatever would we need that for?" I ask.

  "For your horse," he looks at me as though I am daft.

  I laugh at him. Even now he must not comprehend how poor a wife he's acquired.

  Nathan cocks his head at me. "That's what I heard when I burst in upon my father." He shrugs. "Why ever else would your sister call out that she needed her stallion back?"

  Table of Contents

  Copyright

  About the author

  Acknowledgements

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14