“But Attwater got to her first,” he supplied with a frown.
“Yes…oh God,” she moaned.
“Then, Alma Lee’s demise rests on my shoulders,” he admitted flatly.
Now she frowned. “How can you even say such a thing?”
“Alma Lee needed professional help. As wonderful as you were to her and as hard as you tried, you weren’t qualified to read the signs or decipher them properly. As you just admitted, she was vulnerable, but you tried to push her forward anyway. That’s why Alma Lee needed psychiatric care. If I hadn’t presented that fact so bluntly, so frighteningly to Trudy Boyd, Alma Lee might be somewhere now, getting the help she deserved.” His face saddened. “I failed her. I failed a patient.”
It was her turn to defend his actions now. “No matter how you presented the facts, Trudy wouldn’t have agreed. Her lack of understanding and trust filled her with fear, and that would’ve prevented her from ever allowing the professional help you offered. No one can make someone do something they don’t want to. I’d say no one’s to blame.” She took his hand and brought it to her lips for a kiss. “Come,” she coaxed. “It’s time for us to go on with our own lives. And a good start would be to tell my parents our nuptial date has changed.”
He nodded, a slow smile spreading his full lips. “Let’s go, then… We’ve got a wedding to plan.”
Gabriel stopped by the next day. Cassia would remain home until midweek, giving her ankle time to heal strong and her bruises to fade a little more. So, she was available to receive her brother’s visit.
Gabriel handed her a small, black case. “I wanted to give you this before I left for England.”
She smiled, loving when someone gave her a gift. Quickly she unlocked the lid. But her smile turned to astonishment when she got a look at the case’s contents. “A gun?”
Gabriel nodded. “And you’re to keep it somewhere on you at all times, especially when you’re out and about on your own.”
She frowned. “You want me to carry a gun?”
He nodded again. “It is much better protection than keys.”
Carefully she pulled the petite-sized pistol from the case, holding it out by its black pearled handle as though it had teeth.
He chuckled lightly. “You’ll get used to it, once you learn how to shoot it properly. I’ve asked Ethan to give you lessons.”
Upon closer examination, she read aloud the words etched on the barrel. “H and R Fire Arms, Worchester, Massachusetts…twenty-two.”
“Twenty-two is the caliber. H and R stands for Harrington and Richardson, the company that produces the gun. The establishment is located on Park Avenue in Worchester, Massachusetts. The make is a Young American…double action, small frame centerfire revolver,” her brother explained. “This weapon is a vest pocket model, self-cocker and uses modern, smokeless powder cartridges. Ethan will be over in a few days with the ammunition and to give you your first lesson.”
She inhaled sharply. “Gabriel, I don’t understand anything you just said.”
He took the gun from her grasp and placed it back in the case. “You will; just wait for Ethan.”
“But I don’t wear a vest,” she protested.
“Then always wear something with pockets,” he countered.
“It will weigh me down,” she objected again.
“It is a small gun; you will cope,” he said. Then folding his arms across his chest he added. “You are like this, you know, because my mother and Josh never spanked you.”
She playfully slapped him on the arm. “You’re one to talk; you were never spanked either.”
“I should have had the good sense to interfere. Wait, perhaps it is not too late.” He reached for her and pretended to put her across his knee.
“Stop, stop, Gabriel.” She wiggled free from his grasp and protected her bottom with both of her hands. “I am a grown woman now, engaged to be married.”
“Yes, I know. Brodie asked me to be his best man,” he announced proudly.
She smiled. “Thank you for agreeing.”
He nodded once more. Then pointing a finger at her, he playfully provoked her again. “You better be a good wife, or else Brodie will spank you.”
She arched a brow. “He damn well better not try.”
****
The next day Cassia and Amanda paid a visit to the Boyd homestead. Amanda made a peach cobbler and brought along a few jars of homemade jam. John Tyler wasn’t around, as he still worked with Patrick to keep the town at a safer level. Though Attwater was dead, danger of any sort could arise. That was precisely why Patrick remained a law enforcement figure for Eagle’s Landing, hiring Ethan and John Tyler to assist him. Trudy was subdued, appearing like the floor had been pulled out from beneath her, and rightly so. Ruth Ann seemed to handle it the best. Cassia believed, in Ruth Ann’s case, she put so much love, consideration, and hope in what she did and in how she lived, that a strong cocoon of faith kept her shielded from complete despair. As Cassia and her mother were ready to depart, Ruth Ann handed her a folded piece of material. Upon closer scrutiny, she recognized the fabric as the one she had chosen for her own sundress, the light green background peppered with bouquets of white, yellow, and pink flowers.
“I finished it for ya last night,” Ruth Ann said. “I made mine as well, and Alma Lee one too. I’ve been workin’ ever since word came about her death. Keepin’ busy’s helped me through, as I’ve got to stay strong for Mama.” The younger woman’s eyes filled with tears. “Alma Lee will be buried in her dress, though no one will see…can’t have the coffin open ’cause of what that monster did to her.” She reached out to gently finger the bruise on Cassia’s jaw. “Reckon he’d have done the same to ya if help hadn’t come.”
Ruth Ann’s words brought strongly to mind the force of Attwater’s blow, and she swallowed back the tears rising to choke her. “Oh, Ruth Ann, I am so terribly sorry for your loss.”
“For yours too, as my sister was someone you loved and cared about as well,” Ruth Ann reflected.
“Yes. Yes, she was at that,” she admitted.
“Well, like Reverend Holmes said when he paid a visit, God’s got a plan. Besides, we will all see each other again one day. Right now, Alma Lee’s gone on ahead…went to be with her husband.” Ruth Ann shook her head sadly. “Lord knows how much she missed him. Now they’re together again.”
“Amen to that,” she whispered.
****
The following weeks leading up to the wedding day were busy ones. Alma Lee’s funeral was extremely emotional, Cassia herself coping hard. Brodie remained faithfully by her side throughout the ordeal. His presence was the only thing keeping her from falling apart. A week later, to her surprise, Ruth Ann showed up with her family to the Strawberry Festival wearing her sundress. Cassia wore hers as well. The two of them raised a glass of lemonade in honor of Alma Lee’s memory.
After work most nights, she helped Brodie paint the apartment walls, sand down the floors, and clean the appliances, counters, toilet, tub, and sinks. P.J. helped, with an overly accommodating attitude, laying down a rug in the parlor and hanging curtains. Ethan lent a hand, as did Shailyn, Nora, Maggie, and Rising Sun. Furniture was given to them by both her and Brodie’s parents, Betsy, Shailyn, and Muriel Dodd. Vernon Washburn was even nice enough to make them a table and chairs set for the kitchen. The quality of his expert craftsmanship would last many years to come, as the table top consisted of one very strong piece of oak wood and the legs held on by wooden pegs instead of nails. In three weeks’ time, the place was ready to live in and Brodie moved in.
Cassia’s gown was finished. Betsy’s veil completed the look beautifully, and several women in town agreed to bring a hot dish, a meat dish, and a vegetable dish. Amanda supplied the flowers, Sadie made the cake, and Patrick handled the beverages.
The second Saturday in August dawned sunny with a slight breeze. Amanda, Riley, and Anita helped Cassia dress in her gown and veil. Having them back home for her s
pecial day meant everything to her. Even Silas made it back to Eagle’s Landing, deciding to stay in town until after the holidays. She glanced one more time around the room she’d slept in throughout her life. Now, it was empty of her belongings, as everything had been taken to the apartment the night before.
As her father walked her down the aisle, he teared up. “I never thought I’d make it to see this day.” Slowly he handed her over to Brodie, and whispered, “I know you’ll take care of her now.”
Willow Creek’s Reverend Benjamin Newcomb officiated. The church, decorated with white and pink roses, was magnificent, as was the music. But it was Brodie’s expression when she met him at the altar she’d remember for the rest of her life. The love he held in his large, emerald eyes which filled with tears of joy, made her heart soar with happiness.
A reception was held in the church’s hall. About seventy-five people attended. Thankfully there was more than enough food and drink to go around. They forfeited a honeymoon away, opting instead to save their money for an automobile. Brodie was sick of getting rained on while driving the wagon, and she was tired of getting around on a bicycle. So, the first night she would sleep in her new apartment would also be the first night she’d be with Brodie.
Butterflies fluttered in her belly when he carried her over the threshold. As he set her gently down upon her feet, she looked around the parlor, admiring all the little extra touches they added to insure their little love nest would be cozy and comfortable. As well as all those friends and family members who helped them. The whole place was a labor of love. With that in mind, it was easy to feel at home.
He poured them a glass of wine, and after removing her veil and placing it aside, they toasted their new dwelling and the life they’d now share. The heady taste of the burgundy warmed her throat and rose to her head. She felt light, happy, and ready to be with her husband.
He took the goblet from her and placed the two glasses on a nearby end table. “Welcome home, Mrs. O’Clarity,” he said before his long, hot, passionate kiss sent her senses whirling. Then he took her by the hand and led her to the bedroom.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
“Let me help you off with your gown,” Brodie offered, excitement rising through every part of his body. He had waited a long time for this night—to be with Cassia in the Biblical Way, as his parents referred to it. His fingers fumbled as he unfastened the tiny pearl buttons down her back.
She kicked off her heels before pulling the gown off each of her shoulders. He watched as she freed her arms from the sleeves, one by one, slow and easy as not to tear the delicate lace. Then she slipped the gown to her waist, wiggled her shapely bottom to get the material past her hips, and dropped it to her ankles. It was like watching a choreographed dance, and it mesmerized him. She laid the gown over a nearby chair and did the same routine with the slip, tossing it on top of the gown. Then she sat on the edge of the bed to release the garters holding her stockings. One by one she rolled the silk coverings down her shapely legs, off her heels, past her pink toenails, and placed them on the chair with the slip and gown. This left her clad in only a brassiere and panties.
His mouth went dry. As a doctor, he’d seen many naked bodies, belonging to both men and women. But this body…this beautiful, shapely body standing half naked before him—full, perky breasts erupting from the low-cut neckline of the brassiere, and a trim waist bared to his eyes…belonged to his wife—the woman he would soon have the privilege of making love to.
“I’m going to draw a bath.” She walked past him to the bathroom across the hall and disappeared behind the closed door.
He swallowed hard, anticipation swelling his loins. As he undressed, he heard the tub fill with water and then the swish of her descent. Would she come to him naked? Or would she be shy, afraid, timid and cry when he touched her? She had never known a man in this capacity, and it worried him he’d say or do the wrong thing to scare her.
I must remain patient and understanding.
He was down to his underwear when she called out to him. “Brodie, would you please bathe me?”
For a moment his legs froze, yet his blood rushed hot to his phallus. Immediately he swelled, his manhood hard and moist in his shorts. Inhaling sharply, he reached down to reposition himself, not wanting to intimidate the stars out of her, and made his way to the bathroom. Slowly he opened the door.
She held out a bar of soap to him. “Do you mind?”
His voice cracked as he neared her and took the soap. “No, not at all.”
Calmly, she lay back in the white, claw-footed tub and closed her eyes. Her ample breasts peeked out just above the water’s line. The nipples were a soft shade of pink, hard, and perfectly round. He fought the strong urge to lean over…suck one, and roll his tongue around the tender peak. Instead he knelt beside the large-framed tub on the plush bath mat that had been placed there. He was grateful for his height, as it afforded him the length to reach her over the large tub’s ridge, and dip his hands into the warm water. He lathered the soap and gently cupped her right breast, washing her with the fragrant lavender suds.
She groaned with pleasure and arched her back a bit, thrusting her rounded flesh against the palm of his hand.
Her bold response took him by surprise, and he hesitated to continue.
She opened her eyes, soft blue orbs searching his face. “Is something wrong, Brodie?”
He licked his dry lips. “I…I…just don’t want to…to frighten you by moving too quickly.”
Gently she took his soapy hands within hers. “Let me tell you something, honey. Married to an Apache, my mother learned what happens in the marriage bed can be fulfilling and pleasurable to both a man and a woman. The tribe’s women were not as prudish as the white women of my mother’s generation. They were free from such protocol and loved their husbands as their bodies craved. Between my mother’s schooling on such matters and my medical education, it was easy to become aware of my own body and confident enough to embrace its needs without feeling ashamed.” She smiled, moving her wet hand to stroke the side of his face. “Though I’ve remained chaste, wanting only to give myself to the man I married, I am far from ignorant or naïve as to what takes place between a couple after they wed, nor do I fear it. Understanding and enjoying intimacy is just as essential for the woman as it is for the man. With both of us admitting and satisfying our wants and needs, telling each other what does or does not please us, we’ll have a better marriage. I want our bodies to connect as well as our minds and hearts. So, I trust you to take care of me and to bring me to the point you’d want me to bring you. And none of that is going to happen for us if we’re not open and honest with each other about sex, or willing to be free with our bodies in the process.”
He swallowed hard. “Saints preserve us. I feel like a kid in a candy store…a very big, delicious candy store, and I don’t know where to start first.”
She giggled. “Where your hand started out works for me.”
He smiled. “Me too.”
She closed her eyes again as he washed her breasts, caressing and pinching the hardened peaks. Then he moved past her abdomen and to the juncture of her thighs where he played with the patch of golden hair framing her womanhood. She spread her legs wider, affording him the ability to circle with the tip of a finger her bud of passion. He teased her with slow, easy strokes. She groaned with pleasure.
Her passion caused his phallus to throb and ooze, wetting his shorts. “Honey, I’m openly and honestly telling you I need to take you into bed now.”
She opened her eyes. “I’m ready for that as well.”
In an instant she stood, emerging from the water like a love goddess, naked and ripe. He got to his feet, and for a moment he just feasted his eyes upon her. Slowly he visually roamed the length of her, memorizing each facet of her glorious being.
“My body tingles when you look at me like that,” she said, a spark of blush coloring her cheeks.
He smiled to himself. As fr
ee and as willing as his young bride was, her innocence and decency still prevailed. “Do you like me gazing so long on your naked body?”
“Yes,” she said breathlessly. “Very much so.”
His hands trembled when he reached for a towel and gently dried her arms, breasts, torso, backside, and legs…right down to her pink toenails. She stood quiet and still while he wiped the moisture from her body. Then he tossed the wet towel aside and reached for her robe, dressing her in the light pink, silk garment before embracing her. The front of the robe opened when she wrapped her arms around his neck. Her full, soft breasts met with his bare chest. The feel of her nakedness against his drove hot surges of yearning through him. He hoisted her into his arms, and she wrapped her legs around his hips. Without hesitation he stroked her backside, cupping and squeezing each of her buttock cheeks.
“Every time you touch me, you cause new and wonderful sensations to ripple through my body,” she softly admitted, burying her face beneath his chin.
“I love you, Cassia,” he whispered, kissing her forehead and carrying her to the bedroom.
Once he placed her onto her feet, she slipped off the robe and climbed into bed. He stood looking down at the beautiful woman he was fortunate enough to spend the rest of his life with, before removing his own shorts. His male member sprung forth so hard and erect, it could fly a flag.
Her eyes went to the thick shaft, and she smiled. “Looking at you also makes me tingle.”
He returned her smile. “Me too.”
“And do you like it when I gaze so long at your nakedness?”
“Yes.” He climbed into the bed beside her. “Very much so.”
He rolled toward her now, capturing her lips with a kiss, his tongue exploring the tender flesh of her mouth. Then he moved to her left breast. She entwined her fingers in his hair and gently scratched his head. Her touch felt good, and it relaxed him as he sucked, teasing the hardened nipple with his tongue. When he moved his hand to rest between her thighs, she spread her legs. Again he found the button of desire hiding between her woman’s fold. Back and forth he flicked the tip, feeling her grow moist with his touch. She groaned with pleasure when he increased the rhythm. As her ardor mounted, she arched her back…trembling with passionate spasms beneath his touch…crying out his name as her climax exploded.
The Last Bloom Page 28