by Merry Farmer
Without a doubt, she had made the best decision of her life in asking Solomon to marry her and in holding fast to her desire to have a real marriage in whatever time they had.
With her head snuggled against Solomon’s shoulder, she closed her eyes and attempted to drift off again, but now that she was awake, excitement buzzed through her. She opened her eyes and trailed her fingertips across the firm muscles of her husband’s chest. He was such a contrast to her—hard where she was soft, powerful where she was compliant. She loved the differences between them, but what she loved more was the deep-seated feeling that they were alike in all the ways that really mattered.
Her gentle exploration of his chest and stomach eventually drew Solomon out of sleep. His steady breathing hitched and he let out a low rumble of pleasure.
“This is one fine way to greet the new day,” he said, turning his head to hers.
Honoria giggled. Heavens, since when had she become the sort to giggle? “I agree.” She surged forward to lightly kiss his lips, keeping her hand spread flat against his lower abdomen. She wanted so badly to inch her hand lower still to bring that part of him that she instantly cherished alive once more.
He must have felt her desire. With one swift movement, he rolled her to her back, fitting himself between her legs. As badly as she wanted to give herself over to him again, the pointed soreness that his movement caused had her wincing before she could stop herself.
Lucky for her, Solomon chuckled. “I should know better.” He bent down to kiss her lingeringly. “I should have known better than to lose my head the way I did last night.”
“Oh, no,” she was quick to correct him. “It was wonderful.” To prove it, she sighed and wriggled against him.
Solomon caught his breath. She could feel him stiffening by the moment between her thighs. “You are a temptress, aren’t you?” His eyes were full of humor and hunger.
She laughed. “I never would have thought so, but you make me wild.”
His entire expression heated to something so arousing that Honoria was ready to forget her soreness just to feel him as one with her again.
Instead, Solomon kissed her quickly, then lurched back, climbing out of bed. Honoria caught one, tantalizing glimpse of his erection before he turned away, heading to his wardrobe.
“I could hurt you if we’re not careful,” he said with a laugh, although Honoria heard far more seriousness in the statement.
She stretched and flexed her sore muscles, loving the sudden rush of cool air against her heated skin. “I don’t know that I’d mind at this point.”
“Maybe not at this point, but you would when you found yourself trying to do simple household tasks.” He selected a suit from the wardrobe then turned back to the bed. His eyes lit with fire as he drank in the sight of her naked and spread across the sheets. Then he laughed and shook his head. “You are too much temptation for this weak man to handle, Honoria Templesmith.”
She laughed, then twisted to her side and reluctantly crawled out of bed. He was right about one thing, though. The more she moved and went through basic tasks of washing and dressing for the day, the more she noticed the sweet soreness that their wedding night had left her with. It wasn’t the same sort of annoyance as stubbing her toe or burning her hand on a stove. It was a delicious reminder of how exuberantly she and her new husband had gotten to know each other in the night.
“I actually do know how to make breakfast,” she said later, when the two of them finally made their way downstairs to the kitchen.
“Do you?” Solomon asked with a smile as he went to the pantry and came out with a tin of already-ground coffee.
“Yes, it was easier to sneak down to the kitchens to help Maria in the morning, before anyone else was up,” she explained. There was already a pan for frying bacon and scrambling eggs on the counter from their meal the night before, so she took it to the stove—which Solomon was already adding more wood to—then went in search of eggs and the rest of the bacon. “I can do pancakes as well, and I even learned how to make muffins and scones.”
It seemed silly to brag about something so common, but Solomon grinned and looked impressed all the same.
They worked together to fix a hearty breakfast. By the time they were seated at the kitchen table with bacon, eggs, toast, coffee, and ideas for far more elaborate breakfasts in the days to come, Honoria was certain that she’d never been happier in her life. Even if sitting was slightly uncomfortable.
“If I could close up the bank and spend the day with you today, I would,” Solomon told her as he speared his last bit of eggs.
“Don’t you own the bank?” she asked. “You could set your own hours.”
“I could.” He nodded, the businesslike expression that made him look even more authoritative coming over him. “But banks are an institution that require a great deal of trust in order to be successful. Perhaps more than anything, a person’s money is their life, or at least a crucial part in it. They entrust that bit of their life to me, so it is my duty to both safeguard it and to give the appearance of absolute confidence. That includes making sure the bank maintains regular hours.”
“That’s very noble of you.” Honoria sat straighter. “I’m not sure every banker out there feels the same way.”
Solomon shrugged. “It’s true. Some men enter banking to make their own fortunes.”
“Why did you become a banker?”
A wistful smile pulled at his handsome face. “Because Howard Haskell asked me to.”
“Oh?” She blinked. “I didn’t realize you knew Howard before you came to Haskell.”
“I did, but how we met is a story for another day. The short version is that he knew my background and my capabilities, saw that I was good with money, and sold me on the idea of providing financial services to the new town he was building out West.”
Honoria grinned and shook her head. “I’ve heard so many stories of people who Howard asked to move here specifically so that he could grow his own little Utopia in the high plains. It’s a wonder my father ever settled here at all.”
“Why did he?”
Honoria shrugged. “Business. He saw that there wasn’t much ranching competition and set up his enterprise. It’s not that interesting of a story.”
“Even so, I’ll have to get you to tell me all of it someday.” The edges of Solomon’s smile faltered as soon as he finished speaking. The same, terrible sadness came to his eyes that had been there every time they talked about time and the future.
The last thing Honoria wanted her new husband to think about the day after their wedding was how short their marriage would be. She stood, forcing a smile, and reached for his plate. “You’d better hurry up and get ready for work, Mr. Templesmith. We don’t want your loyal customers to lose confidence in you.”
She whisked the plates off to the sink. Solomon stood and followed her. As Honoria reached to work the pump, Solomon closed in on her from behind. His hands caressed her hips, and he bent down to nuzzle the sensitive flesh of her neck. Flutters of longing danced through her at the intimate contact.
“I only care that you have confidence in me, Mrs. Templesmith,” he murmured against her ear.
She drew in a deep breath, letting the scent of him fill her lungs. Strange, but she hadn’t had a single coughing fit or any tickly hints of one since walking into his house as his bride.
“I do,” she said in echo of her wedding vows, twisting to settle herself in his arms. “I have complete confidence in you.” It was such a wonderful thing to be able to say, as wonderful as the kiss that followed.
She could have lost herself in kissing him forever, but all too soon, he broke the kiss and straightened. His expression was sunny and casual once more. “And what do you plan to do with yourself on this first day as a married woman?” he asked.
A thrill zipped through Honoria’s heart. “I hadn’t thought about it.” She did now, tilting her head to the side even as she kept her arms circled around
his back. “I suppose I should start with decorating your house, since you told me I could.”
He laughed. “That sounds like a fine pursuit. I have credit at every store in town, so feel free to put my financial solubility to the test.”
Her expression brightened. She’d completely forgotten that Solomon was a wealthy man. As quickly as ideas of everything she could do with his money swooped in on her, she reminded herself that now was not the time to turn into one of her sisters.
“I’ll be frugal,” she said. “I’d rather decorate for beauty and function than pure ostentation.”
“Why am I not surprised?” He grinned and kissed the tip of her nose.
The gesture was so sweet and almost silly that she giggled. Yes, giggling was definitely her new favorite pastime.
Solomon straightened, putting on a mock serious face. “Decorating is all well and good, but what do you plan to do once you’re finished? How would you like to spend your time?”
Time. It was the one luxury she most longed for and the only thing she knew she couldn’t have.
She took a deep breath and tried not to give in to the gloom that reared up from the place she’d packed it away. “I think…I think that I would like to spend the rest of my time making beautiful things,” she said, glancing up into his eyes. “To be remembered by.”
The sadness that filled his expression was painful, but he kissed her all the same. “I think that’s a fine ambition,” he said, almost in a whisper. “We can find ways for you to do that.”
At last, he broke away, heading for the table where he’d left his jacket hung over the back of his chair.
“I really should be going.”
Honoria wondered if she’d made him so sad he needed to run. Probably. She rushed over to him, helping him put his jacket on, then straightened it when he turned to her. “Have a lovely day, husband,” she said, suddenly shy.
He lifted a hand to cradle the side of her face, then tilted it up to kiss her. “You too, wife.”
He kissed her one last time, then turned and headed down the hall. Honoria stood and watched him, her heart fluttering like a bird…but like a bird trapped in a cage that knew it couldn’t get out. Marrying Solomon had been an act of self-preservation, but it dawned on her that leaving him would be the hardest thing she’d ever done.
The thought was too heavy, so she turned to set about cleaning up their breakfast. Once everything was washed, dried, stored, and put away, she made a tour of the rest of the house, assessing what needed to be bought or improved on. The list became too long to keep mentally, so she found some paper and a pencil and jotted down notes for each room. Finally, as the morning was well on its way, she set out to see what the stores of Haskell had to offer.
She was barely out the door when the cozy world of her new, married life was breached.
“Honoria! What a delight to see you,” Estelle Tremaine called out to her as soon as Honoria had rounded the corner onto Station Street. Estelle changed direction to meet her in the middle of the road with a fond hug. “We were all so pleased when word got out yesterday that you and Solomon had married.”
“Thank you.” Honoria hardly knew what to do, whether to hug Estelle back. As far as she was concerned, the woman hardly knew her, yet here she was greeting her like a sister.
No, not like a sister. Her experience with sisters was something else entirely.
Estelle held her at arm’s length, beaming as she studied her. “You look beautiful this morning. Married life must agree with you.”
The possibility of having a conversation with a woman from town—a woman who her family did not approve of—made Honoria bold. “It does,” she admitted, instantly feeling her cheeks redden.
Estelle must have known exactly what she meant. Of course she did. She herself had been married to Lt. Tremaine for over ten years, and they had several children together. “Well, I won’t keep you from your errands, but you must come over for tea with me and some friends soon.”
“Tea?” The invitation was as exciting as it was unexpected.
“Yes.” Estelle squeezed her hand. “I’ll talk to Olivia as soon as she’s done with school and we can set a time.”
“That would be lovely.”
Estelle let her go, but as Honoria walked on, she blinked in wonder. She hadn’t done very well for her first conversation with someone she’d admired for years, but Estelle didn’t seem to think so.
She was still running over the brief exchange in her mind, wondering what she could have done to sound like less of a ninny, when another lilting voice shook her out of her thoughts.
“Honoria, congratulations!” This time it was Corva Haskell, the wife of Howard’s son, Franklin, who stopped her as she made the turn onto Main Street. Corva carried her baby boy, Howard Franklin Haskell, on her hip but still moved quickly enough to join Honoria in her walk up Haskell’s central thoroughfare.
“Mrs. Haskell, good morning,” Honoria greeted her, determined to do better at conversing this time.
“It’s so good to see you walking about town freely.” Corva smiled as if she genuinely meant it. But of course she did. Unlike her sisters, when women like Corva gave compliments, they were true and not just masks for later insults or ways to coerce someone into doing something for them. “Are you on your way to the bank to see your husband?” Her eyes danced at the word.
Corva’s high spirits were infectious. “No, I’m on my way to do some shopping. Solomon’s house is spartan at best.”
“I’m certain he picked the perfect woman to decorate it.” Corva winked. “But how you surprised everyone.”
“Surprised them?”
“Yes. No one even knew you and Solomon were courting.”
“I…” There was no way to even begin the conversation about why she and Solomon had married without giving away far more information than she wanted to.
Lucky for her, she didn’t have to say a thing.
“Of course, I imagine you’d have to keep that courtship secret from your father,” Corva went on. “He didn’t look particularly happy about it at the reception yesterday.”
An odd twist struck Honoria’s gut. A tiny cough escaped her. “How was he?”
“Livid,” Corva admitted with a sympathetic sigh. “Your sisters weren’t too pleased either. They refused to let anyone talk about it, and whenever they caught someone whispering about how happy for the two of you they were, Vivian and Melinda railed at them and tossed them out.”
“Oh, dear.”
Corva hummed in agreement. “Franklin and I had to leave early because of little Howard here, but Miriam Montrose was just telling me this morning about how toward the end, there was hardly anyone left for the cake-cutting.”
“Oh, no.” Right alongside Honoria’s pang of sympathy for her sister was a heaping of embarrassment for how her entire family must have behaved.
“If I were you, I’d thank my lucky stars that your family isn’t likely to be in town today,” Corva went on. “But I suppose Vivian is enjoying her honeymoon right now.”
Honoria hid a grimace. “Cousin Rance didn’t want to go on a honeymoon. He said it was too expensive, and who would want to see a bunch of old cities anyhow?”
Corva laughed, not understanding how bitter a point of contention that announcement had been. “What about you?” Her expression lightened. “Are you and Solomon going on a honeymoon?”
Honoria hesitated. It would have been lovely for the two of them to run away to the sea or to the woods, or any place where they could be alone, but there were far too few places in the world that would look kindly on a white woman and a black man holidaying together. That wasn’t even taking her health into consideration.
“Solomon feels a great duty of responsibility to his bank,” she answered instead, feeling that it was as true as anything. “Perhaps we’ll find a way to take a vacation later.”
“I certainly hope you do.” They reached Kline’s mercantile, but Corva continu
ed with, “You must allow Franklin and I to host a small party for you. Maybe lunch or something. I’m sure everyone is dying to hear your story.”
First tea with Estelle and her friends, and now lunch with Corva and hers? Had Haskell always been filled with this many sweet, wonderful friends? Of course, she would never have noticed if she was constantly being dragged around by Vivian and Melinda.
Vivian and Melinda.
“There she is!”
It was actually Bebe who yelped like someone who had stuck her with a pin from further down the boardwalk on the other side of the store. Honoria jumped at her sister’s voice. Every last inch of her confidence melted to dread at the sight of all three of her sisters marching toward her. They were all dressed like royalty, and Melinda and Bebe held their heads high with haughty grandeur, but Vivian looked downright pale.
“Ugh! I don’t ever want to see that traitor again,” Vivian spat. All the same, she continued to stride forward, coming to stop in front of Honoria with her arms crossed. Her lips pressed into a tight line. There were dark circles under her eyes, as if she hadn’t slept or had been crying.
“Disgusting little vermin.” Melinda echoed her posture, chin tilted up.
“Papa’s really mad at you,” Bebe said in a much quieter, more subdued voice.
“I am aware,” Honoria answered. Her mind raced and her heart with it. She did not want to be beaten back into the place she’d escaped from so happily yesterday, but more than a decade of enduring her sisters’ wrath made standing up for herself awkward. She took a deep breath, and instantly dissolved into a coughing fit.
“Oh, my. Are you all right?” Corva shifted little Howard against her hip and rested a hand on Honoria’s arm.
“She only does that to get attention,” Vivian sniffed.