by Bella Bowen
Eventually, the tinkling of knives upon water glasses droned into her brain and she ruefully dragged her lips from Samuels hoping the noise would stop, which it did.
Molly sobered and bit her lip.
“What is it?” He leaned close and spoke quietly, but it was no use. The rest of the table still listened intently.
“I have a confession to make. I may cause you to reconsider.”
He grinned, the pretended to worry. “Well, let’s have it.”
“I lied to you.”
“Oh?”
She thought he might be just a little worried, but he hid it well.
“Yes. You see… I really don’t…know the population of Booneville, Mississippi. Can you forgive me?”
Everyone laughed, but as Samuel’s forehead moved closer to hers, and his gaze dropped to her lips, she forgot anyone else was in the room. There was just the two of them in all the world.
“Yes. I can forgive you, if…”
“If what?” she breathed.
“If you can forgive me for not luring you down to the church and marrying you the day we met.”
“Forgiven. Will you please kiss me again, before I faint from the anticipation?”
Mrs. Carnegie cleared her throat with considerable volume…
And she was ignored altogether.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Molly and Samuel married the next day, unwilling to wait for a larger ceremony with the other five couples. The ladies made her a bouquet of pine boughs decorated with little blue bows. It complemented her blue dress with the white lace collar. Molly hoped her mother was looking down on her from Heaven and might at least be pleased she’d held onto the lace for all those years.
That morning, when she’d wondered what her mother would have looked like, she peered in a mirror instead of looking for the little oval. The new perspective was a gift Ellis Beauregard had given her. One of the best gifts she’d ever received.
Though Molly had witnessed many weddings since she’d arrived at Diamond Springs, the words seemed much more important to her that day. The problem was, she tried so very hard to remember them, but forgot every word when the preacher gave Samuel permission to kiss the bride.
That’s me..
She was a real bride now. Not a potential bride. Not a graduate hoping to marry. She was the real thing. Married to a wonderful man whom she didn’t fear. A man who would treat her kindly, listen to her worries, and trust her. He’d been willing to let her marry another man because he thought that was what she wanted. He’d wanted her to be happy above all else, even if it meant he’d be miserable. He’d left town thinking that Ellis Beauregard was the better man. She planned on proving him wrong.
The tall man stood on the front row of the church with Sarah Lee on his arm, witnesses to the ceremony they would repeat the next morning. There were no hard feelings on Ellis’ part, but when he bent to kiss the bride, Samuel accidentally stepped on the man’s foot.
As their covered carriage rolled toward the hotel where a wedding luncheon was being prepared, Molly’s nerves got the better of her. She waved to the little children by the side of the road so Samuel might not see how badly she was shaking. One little girl clutched a doll to her and stared, not understanding what all the excitement was about.
The little doll’s dress was pink. It was old, but well-loved. So well-loved it was missing an arm.
“Stop!” Molly cried and lunged for the little door. “Stop!”
The carriage stopped sharply, but she held her balance and got the door open. A man hurried to help her down.
“Molly, what is it?” Samuel called from behind her but didn’t try to stop her.
She realized her new husband probably thought she was panicking, just like she had at the dance, but she didn’t take the time to explain. She was going to lose the little girl who was running away now, down the street, towed by a bigger boy.
“Stop! Please, stop!” She ran to keep up. “Little boy! You! Please stop!”
Finally, someone grabbed the little boy’s shoulders and got his attention. Molly caught up. Samuel wasn’t far behind.
“Hello, there,” she said, panting for air. “I noticed your sister’s doll is missing an arm.”
“I didn’t break it,” the boy said, but there was something in his worried little face that made Molly think maybe he had, though he felt bad about it.
“That doesn’t matter,” she said. “I have an extra one.” She dug into the little purse hanging from her wrist and produced her own well-loved doll that was invisible, but for a little arm.
The girl’s eyes widened. Her hand lifted, but she didn’t dare reach for it.
Molly held it out to her. “I always thought it should belong to a pretty dolly with a pink dress.”
The girl shied away and hid behind her brother’s arm. So Molly gave it to him.
“Can I trust you with this? Will you see to it your ma or your pa puts it where it needs to go?”
The boy nodded and took it reverently. He stuffed it in his pocket, then the two ran off again.
Molly turned and found Samuel behind her. She reached out and a very real hand slipped into hers. It was clear she wouldn’t need the little porcelain one anymore.
“Like it was meant to be,” he said.
“Yes.” She gave him a big smile. “Just like you and I.”
EPILOGUE
Three weeks to the day from when Samuel left Snow Creek, he returned.
He and Molly had enjoyed a short, week-long honeymoon in Denver getting to know one another and growing more and more certain they’d married just the right person. But there were folks waiting for him, so they’d finally come home—to a place more wonderful because his heart had found its home too.
He’d returned with the surprised he’d planned to bring with him, but the surprise was his since no one came out to greet them. They drove the new carriage they’d purchased in Denver. And if Rosie and the rest didn’t recognize him or the horse tethered to the back end, he at least expected the woman to come out to greet company.
No one came from the barn, either. And if he hadn’t seen the cattle in the fields and the chickens in the yard, he would have thought the place had been deserted.
“I don’t know where everyone would be hiding,” he said to Molly who had insisted she ride beside him on the sprung seat instead of tucked comfortably inside the vehicle away from the dust.
“Are you worried?”
“Nah,” he lied and helped her to the ground. “Why don’t you stretch your legs and I’ll go see if Rosie’s got her head in the oven or something.”
Nervous for a hundred reasons, he ran up the steps and into the house.
“Rosie!”
The woman’s reply came from upstairs, but he couldn’t tell what she said.
He took the steps two and three at a time.
“Rosie?” He headed toward the woman’s bedroom, hoping she wasn’t laid up or ill or something.
“Samuel, I’m in your room!”
He stopped and headed in the opposite direction. Maybe she was cleaning his bedroom, expecting him to be home any day. He pushed the door open and found a woman in a large white gown dripping with lace. She wore a veil over her hair and was looking in his long oval mirror.
She turned and grinned at him. “What do you think, Samuel?”
Rosie? He swallowed hard. She was in his bedroom, dressed in a wedding gown the likes he’d never seen. What did he think? What the devil was she thinking?
“You look beautiful,” he said carefully. And she did. But beyond that, he couldn’t think of what to say without fear of offending her. He’d promised to be back in two or three weeks, but she couldn’t have known he’d be arriving right then.
Just how long has she been wearing that dress?
“I’m so happy you’re home, Samuel. But I hope you can understand I didn’t want to wait any longer than I already have. I told Jimmy I could hold out until today, but n
o more.”
“Jimmy? You mean Darby?”
“You know a lot of other Jimmy’s do you?” She rolled her eyes. “Now, why don’t you make yourself useful and help me down those stairs so I don’t kill myself on my own wedding day.”
“Wedding,” he repeated. “Rosie, forgive me if the dust from the road went through my ears and into my brain, but just who do you intend to marry?”
Her lower jaw dropped and he took a step away from her. If she’d been hinting around that she wanted to marry him, he hadn’t realized. And if that were true, she wasn’t going to be too impressed with the grand surprise that was, at that moment, stretching her legs outside the house.
Finally, her mouth closed again. Then she smiled.
He took another step back.
Then she laughed.
He was in the hallway before she was able to catch her breath enough to speak. “You thought I meant to marry you!” She laughed again. “I’m sure you meant to flatter me,” she rolled her eyes again, “but I’m afraid my heart’s belonged to James Darby since the day we met. And with you gone… Well, we decided it was high time, is all.”
Samuel stepped up to her, picked her up, and swung her around out of pure relief. He wouldn’t have wanted to hurt her feelings for all the tea in China.
~ ~ ~
Half an hour later, Samuel gave the bride away. And since he’d brought home his own bride, Rosie didn’t have any qualms about being away from Snow Creek for a little honeymoon of her own.
He and Molly waved at the newlyweds and a few minutes later stood alone in the churchyard after the rest of the ranch hands had headed back.
Samuel turned to Mrs. Craighton and gave her a sound kissing.
When he’d finished, she blushed and hid her face against his chest. “What will the preacher think?”
He laughed. “He’ll think it’s a good thing I told Darby to take an entire week in Denver…so we can have the house to ourselves.”
She bit her bottom lip and tried not to smile. It was a charming habit she had. And every time she did it, he had one thought.
A hell of a thing…love.
THE END
If you enjoyed Molly and Samuel’s story, please go to Goodreads or Amazon and leave a review. Then hop over to my website at www.bellabowen.weebly.com and let me know so I can thank you personally.
While you’re there, sign up for the newsletter so you’ll know when the next bride is due to arrive at Diamond Springs.
If you missed Gen and Devlin’s story, you can pick up Book 1 here.
If you missed Lizzy and Jake’s story, you can get Book 2 here.
Hope you enjoyed the ride!
Excerpt from BOOK FOUR:
THE BRIDES OF DIAMOND SPRINGS RANCH
Young Mary Radley sighed over the pile of freshly laundered underthings folded and piled neatly in her arms and headed to the third floor of Stoddard House to deliver them to the brides.
In each room, she asked to see which dress the ladies had chosen to wear to the Wednesday night dance. Most were happy to show off not only the dress, but everything they planned to wear along with it. Right down to the shoes.
Of course Mary knew exactly what she would wear to her first dance, as soon as Mrs. Carnegie allowed her to become a student, and eventually a graduate of the bride school. Never mind that she changed her mind about the color of her dream dress nearly every week.
A pink gown with a proper bustle was her current favorite. Something with layers on layers of fabric draped from her waist to the ground. And pearls. Most definitely pearls. The problem was, she couldn't decide which shade of pink she liked the best. But as she started down the stairs to the second floor, she reminded herself there was no hurry.
Sadly.
By the time she reached the last door, she had only one shift left in her hands. If it was the wrong size for Alexandra, the bride within, she would have to rush around and switch with a few brides, and hopefully get it done before any of the others started dressing. It was always a scramble on Wednesdays.
She took a deep breath and knocked softly. She didn't want to startle the woman.
There was no answer.
She knocked a little harder.
Still no answer.
Mary wondered if Alexandra might be in the bathhouse, but pressed her ear to the door to make certain and she heard the woman sniffle.
“Miss Alexandra,” she said softly. “I have a clean shift for you. I only need to know if I have the right size.”
It was silly, really. Shifts were loose-fitting things and one size fit most ladies. But there were a few who liked theirs tighter, and some who liked looser, which was ridiculous if the woman was also going to wear a corset. And trying to keep each lady’s preference straight, week after week, made her laundry deliveries more of a dance in themselves.
“Alexandra? May I come in? It's me. Mary.”
“Come,” said a tortured voice.
Mary entered quickly to see if the girl was all right and found her sitting at her dressing table staring at her own puffed eyes.
“I am sorry,” Mary said. “Is there anything I can do to help you?”
Alexandra shook her head. “Not unless you want to put on my dress and go to the dance in my place,” she muttered through her handkerchief. “I can't do it, Mary. I'm not ready. I don't want to be swept around the dance floor one night only to be dragged off to who knows where the next, only to marry a man I don't love.”
Mary had heard such things before from time to time. Often, though, it was from a bride who was supposed to marry the next morning. Not a bride who was about to reap her reward for graduating from all her classes.
“But surely you don't expect to love a man in a matter of days, do you?” Mary laid the shift on the bed and wondered if she might be able to leave before the woman decided the thing was too small. “It's the way of the West, I suppose. But you can't have been expecting love at first sight. Can you?”
Normally, Mary wouldn't have been so bold with a Diamond Springs Bride, but she and Alexandra had become friends, in a way. The woman was quiet and kept to herself and Mary had tried, on occasion, to help the girl feel like she was not completely alone on the big ranch.
“That's just the problem, Mary. I do believe in love at first sight because it has already happened to me. Back home.”
Mary gave up slinking toward the door, tossed the shift aside, and sank down onto the bed, anxious to hear more. “If you fell in love with someone from home, then what are you doing here?”
Alexandra laughed. “Do you know what a blood feud is?”
Mary guessed. “A fight between families?”
The other girl nodded. “For centuries my family, The Campbells, have been feuding with the MacDonalds. And while most of the families put it all behind them, my father and William MacDonald took it upon themselves to keep the feud alive in our small town in Pennsylvania. I had no idea Connell was a MacDonald when we met, and I’m afraid we were keenly in love before we ever got around to the subject.
“The only thing they could ever agree on is the fact that our families should never mingle. So they sent me here. And my Connell doesn't even know it.”
Mary's heart broke for Alexandra. “That's horrible. My pa's as mean as a boar hog and even he wouldn't begrudge me marrying a man I loved. At least I don't think he would. Of course, we never talk about love. If it hasn't got anything to do with putting food on the table, it wasn't worth discussing, I suppose.”
Mary looked at the mirror again. Alexandra's eyes were dry. The handkerchief was gone along with the tears. Mary thought perhaps the chance to share her worries with a friendly face might have cheered her, but that wouldn't explain the devious grin she gave Mary.
“What is it? Have you an idea how to get out of the dance?” Of course, Mary couldn’t understand why someone would give up a night of dancing, even if she didn't want to marry anyone she danced with.
“Yes. I believe I ha
ve.”
Mary frowned at her. “So you won’t be going to the dance?”
Alexandra’s smile widened. “No. Because you are going for me.” She got up from her seat and hurried to the door and blocked it with her body before Mary thought to run away.
“Come now, Alexandra,” she sang to Mary. “Time to put on your pretty pink gown.”
See more of Mary’s story, Book 4, and meet all the Brides of Diamond Springs Ranch at http://bellabowen.weebly.com.
Other books by Bella Bowen
BOOK ONE: THE BRIDES OF DIAMOND SPRINGS RANCH
(Gen and Devlin’s story)
BOOK TWO: THE BRIDES OF DIAMOND SPRINGS RANCH
(Lizzy and Jake’s story)
TABLE OF CONTENTS
DEDICATION
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
EPILOGUE
Excerpt from BOOK FOUR:
Other books by Bella Bowen
TABLE OF CONTENTS
About the Author
About the Author
Bella Bowen lives just outside Ketchum, Idaho and shares her woods with her cowboy boot-wearing husband, two dogs, a mean cat that deserves no mention, and the ghost of Earnest Hemmingway. Every now and then, at ungodly hours of the morning, Hemmy whispers inspiration through the dusty screen on her bedroom window.