“What size do you wear?” he asked, and bent to hear her reply.
“I don’t know. Those look about right, I think.”
“Well try them on.” At his bidding, she sat on a low chair and he half knelt before her, untying the lacings of her boot and slipping it from her foot. His fingers slid the flat shoe into place and tested the fit, pressing on her toes and easing it on and off her heel.
“These are too large,” he said briefly, reaching for another box similar to the first. He opened it, revealing the same style of shoes as those he’d discarded, and tried another on her foot. It fit as though it had been made for her, and she felt a jolt of pleasure as she turned her foot this way and that, admiring the fit of the shoe, the slender lines of her own foot within it.
“That one will do, I think. Is it all right, Glory? Does it give you enough room to wiggle your toes?” His smile was warm as he placed her foot on the floor and bid her stand.
She did as he asked and he waved a hand at her, directing her to walk to and fro before him. The shoe was slick on the bottom and she walked with care, lest she slip and lose her balance.
“I think those will do,” Cade said to Mrs. Nelson, who watched them with interest. He took Glory’s other boot off and replaced it with the mate to the slipper he’d chosen for her.
“She’ll wear them, and if you have a place where she can change, I’d like her to try on the dress. If it fits, she’ll wear that, too. We’ll need a dress and a new hat for Essie while we’re at it,” Cade said, remembering just in time that he’d promised such a thing to the small girl.
The shopkeeper’s wife was obviously pleased with the turn of events, probably envisioning a dandy profit from this bit of business today, for she led Glory to a small room where extra stock for the store lined shelves and sat about in boxes on the floor. “Shall I help you?” she asked the young woman, who seemed dazed by the largesse of the man who accompanied her. Glory shook her head, yearning to see the new dress on her body, her fingers caught up in the lacy underthings Cade had bought to go beneath the fine batiste garment she held.
Mrs. Nelson returned to the front of the shop and smiled widely when Cade motioned to her, obviously pleased by the price he was willing to pay for the gold ring he chose from her supply. He slipped it into his pocket after carefully sliding it onto his smallest finger as if checking the size.
“I won’t be long,” Glory called from the back room, pulling the curtain carefully closed, then unbuttoning her dress, allowing it to fall around her feet. She lifted the new gown and put it over her head, her arms exposed beneath the puffy sleeves, her throat slender above the flowered bodice. A small mirror gave her a bird’s-eye view of her face and the upper part of her body, and she looked down with pleasure at the full skirt that fell to the floor around her. In a matter of moments, she’d pulled the new petticoat up beneath the full skirt and tied it firmly, deciding to save the dainty chemise for another day.
The waistline of the dress was just a bit too large, but she reached behind her and tied the ribbon that served as a belt to draw the fabric in a bit, forming it to her own contours. With an easy gesture, she picked up her old dress and folded it, knowing that Cade wanted to see her in the new clothing.
As she stepped from the storeroom, Essie drew in a quick breath and her sigh of approval was obvious. “Oh, Miss Glory, you look so pretty. Like a fairy princess in my storybook.”
“You’ve got that right, young’un,” Cade said, his own voice just as awed as that of the child.
Glory walked slowly from the back room of the store, one hand lifting the skirt of the dress lest it touch the floor. “Cade, it makes me feel …”
“Pretty?” Cade asked as he bent to her, his hand touching the shoulder of her gown, his fingers brushing the soft fabric with a gentle touch.
“Yes.” She looked up at him and her heart jumped within her breast. “You’re a kind man, Cade McAllister. Thank you for being so good to me.”
“You deserve every bit of it and more, Glory. Just you being my bride is enough to make me happy, and seeing you all fresh and pretty in a new dress makes me proud. Would you like a new hat, too?”
Glory shook her head. “No thank you. And I don’t need the veiling I spoke of either. I’ll be fine this way.”
He turned back to the counter and his hand lifted, his index finger pointing at another of the glass bins behind the counter. It was taken down and placed before him and he lifted the lid, his eyes warm as he touched the garment folded beneath his hand.
“Will this one fit her?” he asked, and Mrs. Nelson nodded as she lifted it from the box and held it before herself. It was smaller than she, but appeared to be a good fit for the woman he was about to wed. And if he was as smart as he thought he was, it would look like heaven’s best when he saw it on Glory’s body tonight.
“I now pronounce you husband and wife. Do you have a ring for Mrs. McAllister, sir?” The young minister paused and smiled at Cade as a simple gold circle appeared in his hand and then found its way to Glory’s ring finger. Her eyes opened wide as if she were surprised by the ring, and well she might be, Cade thought, for he’d meant it to be a surprise.
And then the final words were spoken. “You may kiss your bride, sir.”
Without hesitation, Cade bent to Glory, his lips fitting against hers with precision, leaving behind just a bit of moisture as he ended the brief caress. He’d do better later on, he promised himself. Yet, he could not fault the response he’d felt to his lips just now, for she’d returned the slight pressure he’d exerted, her mouth moving just a bit beneath his. She hadn’t denied him his right, that was for sure, and as he reached into his pocket to find a gold piece for the preacher, he considered the money well spent.
He was well and truly married to the girl, a husband in name and soon to be in fact. Once he got her home and the young’uns into bed, he’d set this marriage in motion.
His eyes were lit with a glow Glory hadn’t seen before, when he turned to her and offered his arm. She lay her hand atop his sleeve and walked beside him from the small, white church to the grassy expanse of lawn before the building. The children followed them, Essie whispering delightedly to her brother, Buddy unable to hush her words, and in fact adding to her excitement.
“We’re gonna eat at the hotel,” Glory heard him say to his sister, and she looked back at them, pleased at their happiness. Having Cade in the family had not been difficult for them, for he’d made a place for himself from the first. His care over Essie and his man-to-man friendship with Buddy had endeared him to the pair, and Glory was pleased that they had coped so well with having another man in the household.
The meal at the hotel was up to the children’s expectations, although Essie said that Glory could cook better than the lady in the kitchen. With their appetites sated and their excitement at a peak, they piled into the wagon for the ride home.
The four sitting on the board seat were squashed together, looking for all the world like a true family, and for that Glory was thankful. Essie sat on her lap, chattering happily about the wedding and the new hat Cade had bought for her and Glory’s new clothing, even praising Buddy for his handsome appearance in the new shirt he wore. For they’d all used the small back room at the store to change for the ceremony, and even Cade was resplendent in a new white shirt, with a black string tie making him look the part of a gentleman.
They rode up the lane to the farmhouse, Glory plotting her supper preparations, for it was nearing time to think about what she might put together for a meal before dark. “Will canned peaches and toast do for a meal?” she asked Cade.
“I don’t think any of us are starved,” he said with a grin. “Peaches and toast sound good to me. Maybe some fresh coffee.”
“Can we have tea, Glory?” Essie wanted to know.
“Of course. I’ll get out the flowered teapot for us and we’ll have a party,” Glory told her, wanting to make the occasion as cheerful as possible for t
he children.
Cade went to the bedroom, where he’d earlier moved his belongings, and changed his clothes, preparing to do the chores. Buddy did the same, and quickly reappeared in the kitchen with his overalls on.
Taking the empty milk pail from the pantry, he headed to the barn, Cade fast on his heels. “I’ll milk this time, while you take care of the horses,” he told Buddy. Make sure they have a measure of grain and see to it there’s clean straw in their stalls for tonight. We’ll leave them out in the pasture till after supper.”
Buddy nodded his agreement and left Cade to the chore of easing the cow’s burden of milk. Before long they had left the barn and Cade stopped at the chicken coop, handing Buddy the blue-speckled bowl of corn and chicken feed to scatter over the open yard where the hens gathered.
He checked on the broody hen in the corner, who clucked contentedly at him as he gathered eggs from the empty nests and left the coop. His egg bowl was half full and he carried it to the house, where Essie waited on the porch.
“We’re about ready to eat,” she said importantly. “Me and Glory fixed the food and I made the tea myself.”
Cade covered the child’s shoulder with a warm hand as he went into the kitchen, catching Glory’s eye, noting her flushed cheeks as she placed the big bowl of peaches on the table and then poured his cup of coffee.
They sat down to eat and Cade remembered that it was his duty to speak the words of thanks for the meal. He did so with a flourish, mentioning the wedding that had taken place that morning, and his thankfulness for God’s blessing on the service.
Glory looked everywhere but at Cade as she served the children and then dished up a bowl of peaches for herself. Cade spread jam with a generous hand on his toast, enjoying the thick slabs Glory cut from a loaf she’d baked just yesterday.
They ate quickly and the children looked out the window at the setting sun, then back at Glory. “Can I read for just a little while before we go to bed?” Buddy asked, looking toward where his current book awaited him on the kitchen dresser. He kept it close by, should a chance come to snatch a few minutes between its pages.
“I think so,” Glory said quietly. “I need to take care of my new clothes and clean up the kitchen, so you should have a half hour or so to spare.”
His grin was answer enough. Glory brushed her hand across his head as she left her chair and gathered the bowls, carrying them to the sink. Essie brought a handful of silverware and placed it in the dishpan. A small pan was used to carry warm water from the stove and the few dishes were cleaned up in but minutes.
Glory looked at Cade fleetingly. She didn’t see a way of putting it off any longer. She had to get ready for bed, had to take off her clothing and don the new gown he’d bought for her, and then lie down on the bed and await his pleasure.
The things they’d spoken of, the intimacy he’d put into words, were enough to make her tremble, for she had no idea what the man expected of her. She hoped he might let her retain possession of her nightgown; perhaps she’d go on that assumption, and have her own way in this small thing.
She put away the clothing Cade had bought for her, folding and refolding the garments as she placed them in the almost empty drawers of the dresser in the bedroom. It seemed she couldn’t dawdle any longer, for she heard Cade speaking with the children in the kitchen, and then Essie called out to her from the bedroom doorway.
“Good night, Glory. I’m going to bed now.”
Glory held out her arms and Essie flew to the shelter she’d come to know so well over the past years. “You’re a good girl, Essie, and I love you.” It was a whisper against her ear, and Essie leaned back and grinned her happiness.
“It was a good day, wasn’t it, Glory. We had fun and the dinner at the hotel was nice. The fried chicken wasn’t as good as yours, but the cake was sure delicious.”
“It was all a wedding day should be,” Glory said softly, brushing her hand over Essie’s hair, admiring the way the soft curls framed her dainty features. She dropped a final kiss on the child’s cheek and turned her toward the doorway. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
And at the thought of what would come to pass before the sun rose again in the eastern sky, Glory felt a touch of panic run the length of her spine. Buddy stood just beyond her door and offered a smile.
“I read two chapters, Glory. It sure is a good book.”
“Don’t forget you’ll owe me a book report on it when you finish,” she reminded him and he waved a negligent hand in reply, his footsteps taking him down the hallway.
It was quiet in the aftermath of the children’s voices, and when Cade stepped into view, she halted where she was, unable to speak.
“Can I come in, Glory, or did you want to get undressed first?” He watched her, patience being a virtue he planned to exhibit tonight. The girl was frightened, and with good reason. She’d never felt a man’s hands on her body, never known a man’s touch against her softest parts, and was now faced with a man who outweighed her by a hundred pounds and towered over her by almost a foot.
Well might she be apprehensive.
“It makes no matter to me,” she said in a small voice. “I can put on my gown behind the screen in the corner.” For, indeed, a corner of her bedroom was shielded from view by a three-paneled screen, meant to set apart the area where she kept her slop jar and dressing table.
“All right.” He was agreeable to anything she wanted, he realized. His only stipulation was that they share this bed in which she’d slept alone for three years. He had every intention of sleeping beside her for the rest of his life, of holding her close through long nights and waking with her every morning. Once he’d found that damn hoard, he’d never deceive her again.
And from the looks of the girl, something frightened her half to death. He walked with studied casualness into the room, closing the door behind himself. “I turned out the kitchen lamp and locked the doors,” he said, sitting on the chair next to the window and taking off his boots.
“Why don’t you get undressed, Glory,” he suggested, watching her as she drew her new nightgown from the dresser drawer. It was filmy, sheer, and altogether a delightful bit of froth, with lace in strategic spots. His desire to see her within its folds was urgent.
She nodded and went behind the screen. Soon her dress was hanging over the top and then her petticoat joined it, fluttering its signal that she was halfway into wearing the gown. He waited, watching for her to reappear, and when she did, it was a vision he was not about to forget in a hurry.
She indeed wore the gown. It fell loosely about her slender form, only the firm lines of her bosom shaping it to her body above her waist. It fell from there in a full, almost transparent skirt to the floor. She looked virginal—pure and utterly delicious—and his breath came with difficulty, forcing its way past the constriction in his lungs.
“Come here, Glory,” he said, holding out a hand to her as he waited beside the bed. “I want to kiss you and tell you how pretty you are, sweetheart.”
“You want to kiss me?”
“I seem to be thinking about it all the time of late. In fact, I’ve wanted to kiss you since the first day I saw you. Wanted to hold you close and offer myself as protection against everything that threatened you. I thought how womanly you were, how motherly and kind to two little kids who needed a mother badly.”
“All that?” she asked, her eyes wide with surprise.
“All that and more. I sat across the table from you that night and ate the soup you’d cooked. I thought then that you were the most courageous girl I’d ever seen, and if there was any way to have you for my own, I’d move heaven and earth to make it happen.”
“And you didn’t even have to do all that. I just fell into your hands like a ripe peach from a tree in the orchard.”
“You had me worried for a while, Glory. I wanted you to be happy knowing we were to be married, and I wasn’t sure I could please you, here …” He waved a hand at the bed beside them. “I want
to love you, Glory.”
His words were all he had to offer, hoping against hope she would be willing to place herself in his care. This was his chance to show this little bit of woman a degree of patience and tenderness that would perhaps win her heart.
She sat down on the edge of the bed, lifted her feet to slide them beneath the sheet and lay back on the pillow, her hair spreading over the white fabric like a dark cloud, a thing of beauty he’d been anticipating all day. Her eyes were blue as the summer sky tonight, and he realized that they changed color sometimes, turning gray as a storm cloud when he angered her. Blue was better, warmer, he decided, and he circled the bed, unbuttoning his shirt and slipping it from his shoulders to drop it into the laundry basket. His trousers were next and Glory’s eyes widened as he lowered them to the floor, sliding off his stockings and dropping them in the basket with his shirt before he folded his trousers and placed them over the back of the chair by the window.
In his cream-colored underwear, he approached the bed, lying down beside her, then lifting himself as an afterthought to blow out the candle she’d carried in here earlier.
He’d have preferred to let it burn, let it illuminate the clean beauty of her features as he loved her, but knew that her modesty would be better served in the dark.
Another time, he told himself. Another night, when he’d wooed her and coaxed her into a more adventurous mood, then he’d leave the candle burn.
As it was, there was enough moonlight to see her, to trace the fine lines of her cheek and temple, to see the lashes flutter against her skin as she looked up at him and then away, too shy to watch him closely. He had no such problem, for he’d waited all day to look at every blessed inch of the girl. If only she’d let him uncover her as he had planned.
A Man for Glory Page 9