The Wedding Kiss

by Hannah Alexander

  Still, Elam believed with his whole heart that Brute would have provided for his daughter if not for his jail sentence. How could Brute have predicted he would be blamed for protecting himself in a fight he hadn’t started?

  Elam pulled the wagon to a halt a distance from the graveyard. Had Keara known her father would be released from jail two days after losing the farm, would she have been so frantic to find a home for herself? Would she have married?

  Elam didn’t know the answer to that, but as he studied Brute’s bowed head, still heavy with grief, unfamiliar emotions warred in his heart.

  He didn’t know what to expect from Susanna’s arrival, but he knew, despite all, the wedding on Monday was right. It was supposed to happen. Faith in God’s providence helped him understand that nothing happened that God could not bless. That blessing could be hidden or obvious. This time many of the blessings were obvious. Many of them Elam understood and appreciated. Many of them, he looked forward to discovering.

  A butterfly landed on Cash’s nose, and Cash laughed out loud. Brute looked up. He made a quick swipe at his eyes. He stood as Elam climbed from the wagon with Cash.

  “I wanted to thank you for visiting me in jail,” Brute said, hat in his hands.

  “I knew you were at the house, but I figured you’d come inside.”

  Brute grimaced. “Didn’t realize my girl had taken things so hard. I’ll never be able to thank you for”—he spread his hands—“all you’ve done.”

  “Maybe you will.”

  Brute’s thick, dark eyebrows shot up in surprise. “You have something in mind?”

  “I guess you know my ranch has grown by several animals the past months. We’ve nearly doubled our number of new little ones this spring, not counting yours.”

  “Keara told me about your generous offer, but I won’t have a place to keep anything for a long time.”

  “You might if you work things right.”

  “Not sure how. I’m on my way into town to find a job as a farrier. The trade is always in demand, what with the town so popular with visitors and sick folk looking for a cure.”

  “I might need a farrier before long as well,” Elam said. “You’re good at it. You taught Keara well.”

  Brute sighed. “Ah, Keara.”

  “She had her own reasons for turning you away, and they aren’t what you think. I believe she’s pretty much over her anger with you for letting that scoundrel beat you out of the farm.”

  Brute’s eyes darkened. “Cheated, you know.”

  “Figured as much. Going to do anything about that?”

  “Not unless I can prove it.”

  “Good. If you can, call on me. I’m family now.”

  Brute fiddled with his hat and looked away. “Takes quite a man to shoulder another man’s responsibility.”

  “It doesn’t take much of a man to realize the worth of the woman I married.”

  Brute looked up. Elam couldn’t tell if it was hope he saw in his father-in-law’s eyes, or wonder.

  “She’s quite a gal,” Brute said softly.

  Elam nodded.

  “She doesn’t hold a grudge for long.”

  “Why don’t you go see Herman,” Elam suggested. “You’ll be a quality addition to his workforce for now, but don’t make it permanent. Soon I’ll need someone who can be more than a farrier.”

  Brute straightened. “I hear you got company.”

  Elam didn’t allow his surprise to show. “Now, who would start a rumor like that?”

  “Strange goings-on the night of your wedding, people thinkin’ they saw Gloria in town that day…and that mare you’re keepin’, your sister and brother-in-law hanging around the house most of yesterday.” He shook his head. “Never saw a horse like that before, except in books.”

  “Books?”

  “You know, pictures and magazines. Keara always gets them when she has a chance to get to town with money in her pocket. She knows I like horses, so she’s brought me books about them.”

  “You…know what kind of horse is with Freda Mae?”

  “Could be Friesian, though it’s not likely. Just looks that way to me.”

  Elam frowned. “Friesian. Didn’t know there were any like that in these parts.”

  “Rare horse.”

  “She’s not mine. I’m…keeping her for a friend.”

  “You got rich friends?”

  Elam shrugged. “Rich people come to the Springs all the time.”

  Brute eyed him for a moment. “Others come to the Springs too, I hear.”

  Elam braced himself for more comments on their visitor.

  “A fella hears a lot when he’s sitting in a jail cell and the sheriff and deputies sorta trust him. I heard about the wedding from Kellen. Came to town with an engraved invitation just for me. Said he knew I probably wouldn’t be able to get out for it, but I might want to keep it for a memory.”

  “Did you?”

  “It’s one of the few things I did keep.”

  “Where are you staying now?”

  “Sheriff Nolan let me spend last night in my old bed in the cell. Figure I’ll find a place soon as I land a job. If I get the farrier job, Herman has a fine shed that’s warm and dry.”

  “Do you figure on farming again?”

  “Soon as I get my farm back, I’ll make a start.”

  “I’ll help. Someday your boys may come back home.”

  Brute waved the comment away. “They’re fine. Out working themselves to death in the California heat. Orange groves, walnut trees.” He gazed around the horizon and his attention settled on Elam again. “Heard another piece of information, this one from the sheriff himself.”

  “You and the sheriff become friends while you were sitting in that jail?”

  Brute gave a brief grin. “He’s a good guy. He mentioned there’s a US marshal following a killer all the way here from Pennsylvania.”

  “A marshal, huh?”

  “That’s what he said.”

  “Know much more about this fella?”

  “The sheriff said he went rogue.”

  “The marshal came after a rogue?”

  Brute shook his head. “The marshal is the rogue. Not with the force these days.”

  “Did you catch a name?”

  “Nope, but he swore Nathaniel Luther was murdered by his own wife.”

  It took all Elam could do to keep breathing as Brute studied him. “My late wife didn’t come from a family of killers.”

  Brute shook his head. “Never met the woman, of course, but no sister of Gloria’s would kill her own husband. Not sure what this marshal’s trying to prove, but just thought you’d be interested in some town news. As I said, strange goings-on.”

  “Thank you.”

  “A few other things I’ve heard kind of surprised me,” Brute said. “Been a few more tourists in town than usual, men, mostly. Not taking advantage of the springs or baths, not here for any reason anyone can figure except to gather together outside the saloon on Mud Street. Been one fight already, and you know who was involved? Young Timothy Skerit, who was with his father to bear witness and get me out of jail.”

  Elam recalled his wedding night when he’d overheard Raylene mention a man named Skerit. “Troublemaker?”

  “Not Skerit. Good boy. It’s one reason the sheriff’s het up about the new gang of men. Not sure what to make of it.”

  Elam didn’t know either, but he couldn’t imagine what it might have to do with his present problem. He had to collect his children.

  “You know, Brute, for a man who knows so much about horses, you never built a horse ranch of your own. I always wondered why not, seeing how many horses are in demand in a town the size of Eureka Springs.”

  Brute grimaced. “A man with a wife who can’t care for herself or her family has to do what he knows best to survive. Following dreams is a luxury. I know farming. I’m not much on the business side of things, and you have to know folks in the business.”

 
; “I’m in the business. It’s growing, and I can’t expect Keara to keep helping me with the ranch when she has her hands full in the house. She learned all she knows from you.”Brute’s gaze softened. “Thank you.”

  As he mounted Lass and tipped his hat to Elam, he looked like a man with hope for the first time in two years.

  Elam left with a sense of urgency. He had to make sure his children were safe and that word didn’t spread about Susanna’s presence in their home.

  Twelve

  Keara was weeding the garden when she heard the wagon coming down the road. Britte’s chatter echoed against the treetops after her exciting two days with her cousins. Elam’s laughter blended well with his daughter’s voice, and Keara smiled.

  How good it would be to have the children back home. She dusted her hands against her skirt and thought, too late, about the dress Susanna had suggested she wear. But why change into another dress when this one would work just fine for the chores that would need doing later? And why listen to a woman half out of her mind with fever?

  Fashion seemed to change almost as often as Keara could get to town—for those wealthy visitors who kept up with fashion. Out here in the country, nobody kept up with the latest dress styles. She remembered the time Jael and Penelope noted with great joy that the bustle that looked like a horse’s backside had passed on through Eureka Springs and out the other side. But that was the exception.

  Still, as Keara rushed around the side of the house, she wiped her face with her sleeve and tried to tidy her hair. She glanced down at the dirt that blended well with the brown skirt—which had no kind of bustle or corset beneath it and never would.

  Britte and Rolfe tumbled from the wagon at the sight of her and raced to see who would reach her first. Britte beat her brother by a horse length and flew into Keara’s arms.

  “We missed you so much!”

  Rolfe charged after her, nearly knocking Keara over with the second whammy. “And we have so much to tell you! Peter’s cat had kittens while we were there and we got to watch, and the pigs got into the garden and Auntie Pen couldn’t stop them before they got the carrots, and so she said the first pig she caught would be breakfast, and—”

  “My turn,” Britte said. “I got to help with the twin calves when they were born, and we got to feed them by bottle, and—”

  “Auntie Pen said you had a cow with twins once and you had to share milk from another cow, and—”

  Keara burst into laughter as Elam carried Cash over to join them. Britte grabbed her papa’s hand and Keara’s hand and placed them together. “Auntie Pen says we need to make sure you and Papa get to spend a lot of time together, Auntie Keara.”

  “And Peter says you shouldn’t be sleeping with Britte,” Rolfe said. “You should be—”

  “We have a surprise for you,” Elam told the kids before they could say more.

  Both children fell silent, eyes wide, while Keara struggled to keep the sudden heat from her face. She released Elam’s hand, though he seemed to let her go with reluctance.

  “We have company.” The laughter gradually eased from Elam’s face. “Britte, she’s staying in your room right now, and she’s sick, so you and Rolfe will have to bunk together for a few days.”

  Britte and Rolfe grew still at last.

  “Who is she, Papa?” Rolfe asked.

  Elam looked at Keara, who reached for a squirming, fussing Cash.

  “She’s your aunt from back East,” Elam said. “You’ve never met her because she’s lived so far away.”

  “Which one?” Britte asked. “Ma said she has a lot of sisters. There’s Auntie Matilda and Auntie Gretchen and—”

  “Auntie Susanna was your ma’s baby sister,” Elam said.

  “The doctor?” Britte’s eyes grew wide.

  “That’s right, and she looks a lot like your ma,” Keara said.

  “Can we see her now?” Rolfe asked, looking toward the house.

  Keara glanced at Elam, and his dark brown eyes reflected her own concern.

  “Her fever’s dropped some the past hour,” Keara told him. She nodded to the children. “I know she’s been hoping to meet you.” And with the lowered temperature, perhaps she would be more lucid.

  As if catching the air of gravity in their father and Keara, Britte and Rolfe walked side by side in silence up the stairs. Elam took Cash into his arms again as Keara knocked on the door and checked to make sure Susanna was alert and presentable.

  She was lying with her hands folded over her chest, face still flushed, but not as much as before. She nodded to Keara. “Bring them in.”

  She glanced toward the door eagerly, almost hungrily, and her gaze lit on Britte, the first into the room. Her lips parted, and she caught her breath quietly.

  “Oh, Britte, I’ve heard so much about you. How you look like…” Susanna glanced at Keara, as if for direction.

  “She looks like her mother,” Keara said. “Isn’t she beautiful?”

  Susanna’s already bright eyes glistened with additional moisture as she turned her attention to Rolfe. “And you are the image of your father.”

  Britte stepped closer. “Auntie Keara said you look like Ma, but you don’t.”

  Susanna blinked. “I don’t?”

  Britte shook her head. So did Rolfe.

  Something appeared to ease in Susanna’s expression. She, too, had obviously been concerned that seeing her would bring back to the children the heartbreak of their loss.

  She aimed a charming grin at Elam and reached up to place her hand on Cash’s head. “Every fiber of a mother’s appearance is etched in her children’s hearts. We had nothing to fear.”

  “You’re sick?” Rolfe asked, glancing at the medical and herbal supplies on the dresser.

  “Yes, and your auntie Keara is helping me get well.”

  “And speaking of that,” Elam said, “it’s time we left you alone so you can get well more quickly.”

  Rolfe stepped to the side of Susanna’s bed and gently touched her hand. “You’ll get well. I know you will. Auntie Keara can doctor anybody.”

  As the children and Elam left the room, a fresh breeze blew through the open window, and Susanna shivered.

  Concerned by the moisture in her eyes, Keara reached down and touched her forehead. “Are you feeling worse?”

  “Rolfe says I’ll be well soon.” Susanna quickly dashed a stray droplet from her face, staring at the closed door as if she could still see the little boy.

  Keara poured another cold glass of tea from the pitcher. “I’ll check your temperature, then you can drink this.”

  Susanna closed her eyes. “Interesting, isn’t it, how our emotions have more sway when we’re feeling physically weak. I was just trying to imagine what my children may have looked like had I given birth.”

  Keara reached for the thermometer. “There will be time.”

  Susanna held her hand up. “Did my sister tell you how old I was when Nathaniel and I married?”

  “Eighteen.”

  “It’s been ten years. You don’t think I’d have had children by now?”

  Keara held the thermometer in her hand but didn’t attempt to put it in Susanna’s mouth. “I dreamt of becoming a mother since I was ten years old, but I realized when I was a teenager that I would probably never marry. I had too many responsibilities, and I didn’t have time to meet beaus.”

  “And yet here you are, with a husband and three children.” There was a hint of resentment in Susanna’s expression, and in her voice.

  Again, Keara reminded herself to be gentle with her patient. But she was growing tired of the woman’s tendency to set her up and then undercut her with a few sharp words. She left the room for a break, tired of arguing, tired of worrying, tired of her own quickly changing emotions.

  Elam left Britte and Rolfe in charge of Cash so he could unhitch the wagon and turn Elijah into the corral. Freda Mae rushed to nuzzle the big draft horse’s nose, while Duchess neighed at the house, as she’d
done often since arriving with her mistress on Monday.

  Recalling his conversation with Brute, Elam studied the regal mare. Though this ranch was far from the beaten path to town, and a stand of trees and a rise between the farm and the water totally concealed the presence of the house and barn, neighbors still visited on occasion, and there was traffic along White River every day. Strangers occasionally put to shore to explore, and once or twice someone had wandered through the woods the quarter mile to the house.

  One never knew what to expect from the river.

  Brute had been quick to notice Duchess when he rode up to the house; others were sure to do the same.

  With reluctance, Elam whistled to Duchess, and the great black mare responded instantly to his command. She’d been well-trained, as Susanna had informed him more than once when she was alert enough to converse. Nathaniel himself had been the mare’s trainer.

  When she reached Elam, he smoothed his fingers over her velvet lips and turned to walk toward the barn. She followed closely, having learned to expect a handful of oats and molasses. He’d thought no one would consider Raylene Harper’s claim about seeing Duchess on Monday night, but he no longer felt comfortable leaving the unique mare in full view of anyone who wandered near.

  Richard Brown had obviously seen Susanna on Duchess in town on Monday, and as Brute said, word got around. Whoever shot Susanna would undoubtedly recognize her mount.

  Duchess would hate being confined to a stall in the barn, but Elam knew he’d left her outside for far too long. He shouldn’t have turned her out with Freda Mae.

  Though Susanna had sworn she’d not ridden the main streets of Eureka Springs, she had ridden along Dairy Hollow. Anyone could have seen her. What if her attacker had followed her from town?

  Once Elam had Duchess settled comfortably munching in her stall, he gave Elijah and Freda Mae their own servings and brushed Elijah down.

  He glanced toward the house again. Since Gloria’s death, he’d begun to dream in color—the blue of her eyes, the flush of her cheeks, the iridescent lights of her black hair. All winter, she’d haunted him in his sleep, sometimes with her smiling face, sometimes with horrible visions of her final days of life. He still recalled vividly the night early this spring when she’d visited him one final time. This time in the dream, when she turned to leave him as she always did, he’d reached for her, held her, unwilling to let her go.