Sweetwater (Birdsong Series)

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Sweetwater (Birdsong Series) Page 21

by Addy, Alice


  Carefully lifting her hand and placing it in his own, Blake decided to recite his own vows. The preacher was surprised, but happy to let this special couple have their way.

  Looking deep into his bride’s shimmering eyes, Blake removed a ring from his pocket and spoke in a strong and unwavering voice.

  “My darling, Emily. I have for you a golden ring, the most precious of metals. But your love is the most precious element in my life. And like this circle of gold, it has no end. My love for you, Emmie, is eternal. I shall love you and care for you, all the days of my life, and I will rejoice.

  “From the first moment I saw you, I knew you were the one and only woman for me. Thank you for glancing my way. Thank you for overlooking my many faults. Most of all, thank you for agreeing to be my wife.”

  He placed the ring inside the palm of Emily’s glove and gave it a slight squeeze. The words he spoke were from his heart, and now he waited for Emily’s response.

  Emily’s voice was still soft and somewhat scratchy, but she didn’t care. She wanted everyone to know that she was the fortunate one in this union. Emily looked up and smiled radiantly before speaking.

  “Blake, I never really had a choice in loving you. It was all God’s plan for us. I fought it, but I knew I loved you from the very beginning. Just being next to you makes my heart sing. You take my breath away with your smile. I am the lucky one to have found my one true love. Blake Donovan, you honor me by asking me to marry you and share your life. Thank you, from the bottom of my heart.”

  The preacher dried his eyes and joined the hands of the handsome couple standing before him.

  “It is my privilege to join this man and woman, in holy matrimony. May these two find happiness in their lives together and may they remain faithful to their vows. May their years together be rich with the joys of life and their days be long upon the earth.

  “In the eyes of God and the laws of the state of Kansas, it is my pleasure to declare Dr. Blake Donovan and Emily Falkenrath . . . husband and wife.”

  The crowd stood on their feet applauding, while Blake took advantage of his new status as husband. He wrapped his arms around Emily’s tiny waist and pulled her in close and tight. He whispered, “I’m going to kiss you now, Mrs. Donovan.”

  Emily stood on her toes to make it easier for him and puckered up. Giggling, the happy couple locked their lips for an indecent length of time, while everyone watched and cheered.

  The music started up and a real party quickly ensued. Everyone was happy and carefree. At long last this couple had tied the knot. The food was first rate, naturally, and Dora beamed at all the compliments she received. The musicians offered up a lively selection of tunes causing more than a few husbands to ask their wives to dance.

  Cassie was truly happy for Emily, but her thoughts sometimes strayed to her corporal. It was at one of these moments, when Emily found her and put her arms around her small shoulders.

  “I know darling,” Emily said. “You’ve been very brave. I don’t know why things happen the way they do, but God knows. He has a plan for each and every one of us. One day, a very special man will walk through those doors, and you will know. He will ease all the pain you have in your heart. And who knows? He may even be French!”

  Cassie had to laugh at that remark. “Thanks, Emily. I’m going to miss you and the doc.”

  “Well, we’ll be here for months. The whole farm needs to be rebuilt and we can’t do anything until the last snow melts. Nothing’s going to change for a good long while. Now, let’s go get that baby!”

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Blake stepped inside their room, making certain the door was latched securely. He wanted no chiverie nonsense to disturb his first evening with his new wife. As his gaze fell upon the vision standing so proudly in the center of the floor, he froze in awe. This amazing woman numbed his senses and weakened his body with desire. He felt his knees tremble and his hands shake. His wife was simply glorious.

  Earlier, Emily had insisted upon going to their room to rest, she had said. Her friends went up and helped her to rest. She was now fully prepared and waiting for her husband’s arrival.

  Emily greeted her husband wearing only a white gown of the sheerest fabric. It flowed softly over her body, gently hugging her curves and leaving very little to the imagination. Her rosy tipped nipples were clearly defined through the thin silk, as well as just a hint of her dark and luscious triangle. Long legs graced her form and an incredibly small waist completed her picture of perfection. Her long and shimmering hair draped casually over her shoulders, each curl lightly caressing her body and tempting her husband to touch and feel of its softness. Emily felt like a temptress, a desirable seductress, and she reveled in it.

  “Husband. I’ve been waiting for you,” she purred.

  “My God, Emmie…” Blake managed to croak, his heart threatening to burst out of his chest.

  “Yes, darling?” she smiled, coyly.

  “You’re breathtakingly beautiful and you leave me speechless.” His mouth hung open and his eyes glazed over in rapture. Her extraordinary splendor was beyond his comprehension and he realized she had been worth the wait.

  With weak legs and unsteady steps, he made his way to Emmie’s side. He was suddenly afraid to place his hands upon such perfection. What if she disappeared at his touch? Could she be simply an apparition, a figment of his imagination? But he didn’t need to worry, as Emily helped him out of his stupor and brought him back to reality. She lifted his hands and pressed them to her full breasts. His fingers squeezed them lightly as he ran his thumbs over their darkened tips, causing her to close her eyes and moan with pleasure. That was all he needed to route him from his musings.

  Standing before him was his Emmie, flesh and blood, not some untouchable being from another world. Blake smiled and his eyes grew dark and smoldered with desire. He drew her into his arms, his hands roaming up and down her back, feeling her feminine curves and the roundness of her perfect bottom. Her breasts were pressed against his chest and he was aware of two things—he now had the right to make love to this incredible woman . . . and he was wearing entirely too many clothes.

  Swiftly, he put some space between them, his eyes never leaving her lovely face, while he tore at his shirt. Clothes began to fly through the air as the lovers impatiently sought the bare skin and the sensuous touch of the other.

  The feel of skin upon skin was ecstasy and their lips sought out the forbidden places they had for so long yearned. As Blake buried himself in her lush warmth, he knew he had been heaven blessed. Emily’s body responded to his every move, arching her back against him, coming up to meet every thrust. She was a natural and Blake was a good teacher. He guided Emily gently, into the sensuous and delightful ways of making love. Over and over again, they shared that intense moment of fulfillment and incredible bliss, as they reached the pinnacle of desire and trembled with sublime release.

  In the early morning hours, Blake was still awake, basking in the afterglow of their love. He had waited so long to make Emily his and now it was a reality. He could barely believe his good fortune. Already, he could feel his body harden again, with just the thought of his luscious bride cuddled against his side. He had not been surprised to discover the degree of passion that Emily possessed. She had wanted him as much as he had desired her.

  “Darling? Can’t you sleep?” a sleepy Emily whispered. “I would think you’d be exhausted,” she giggled. “Are you wanting to do it all over again?” She was smiling in the dark.

  Blake could hardly believe his ears. “Surely you can’t be serious?”

  Emily sat up on one elbow. “What do you mean? Are you tired of me already?”

  “Oh, no, sweetheart.” He grasped her shoulders and ran his hand down her arm to her hand, bringing her wrapped fingers to his lips. “I’m just surprised that you’re up for it. I’m afraid I’ve been greedy and I don’t want to take advantage of you. Aren’t you sore?”

  Emily giggled. “A lit
tle . . . but in a good way. I tell you what. Just kiss me. Kiss me lots and kiss me all over. Let’s just see what happens.”

  Blake certainly wasn’t adverse to kissing and who knew where it would lead? “Yes, ma’am,” he said enthusiastically. Rolling over on his side he began to kiss her fingers and worked his way up to the inside of her elbow. Emily liked that. It made her giggle. Then his lips and tongue traveled up the side of her neck to stop at her tiny little ear, where he sucked on her lobe, causing her to moan with desire.

  “This is fun,” he sighed.

  He loved to bury his face in her sweet smelling hair, while letting his hands roam freely over her lush body. His kisses stoked the fire that only he could put out.

  Emily could feel his erection throbbing with need of her, and she was ready. Never had she imagined anything as wonderful as this. Her heart overflowed with love as she experienced the most incredible climax, shattering over and over again, into a million fragments of divine pleasure.

  *

  Dora had finished the first breakfast and decided to make another breakfast when she heard movement upstairs. No one dared to disturb the newlyweds, but they had to eat. Didn’t they?

  Cassie had been warned to stay away from the honeymooners, and clean the adjacent rooms last. All her work was done, but still there was no sound coming from Emily’s room. “Golly, Patty. How much sleep do two people need?” she asked innocently.

  Patty laughed at Cassie’s innocence. “Oh, sweetie. They’re probably really, really tired. Yesterday was a big day for them and Emily is still recovering.”

  Cassie rolled her eyes. “I know. We were all there. But I managed to get up at my regular time.”

  “Someday, Cassie, I’m going to remind you of this conversation and I promise you will laugh at your naiveté.”

  “French?” Cassie looked wide-eyed with curiosity.

  “Yes, dear. Your innocence.”

  “Do you think I’ll ever go to France, Patty?”

  Patty saw the wistful, faraway look in the pretty young girl’s eyes. It melted her heart. “I’d say to never give up on your dreams, and if that’s what you wish to do, then don’t let anyone prevent you from doing it. Now I’ve got to get busy. We need four of our best rooms available today. Some very important people are coming in on the last train and they have requested our finest.”

  “Ooh la la” Cassie joked. “They must be French.”

  Patty pretended to swat Cassie across her bottom as she hurried by. “Oh Cassie, what would we do without you?” She laughed, but she meant every word. The young woman had finally dealt with her grief and was returning to her lighthearted self. It was a welcomed change. Patty was too often plagued with unhappy memories and a fear of the future, but Cassie’s humor and lightheartedness kept the darkness away.

  Whiskey and Dora marched into the hotel lobby and confronted Patty.

  “Well, I say enough is enough. Two people may be in love and think they have no need to join the rest of the world, but everyone needs to eat! I’m gonna fix them up some dinner and carry it up on a tray, and leave it outside their door. I’ll knock and holler ‘dinnertime’ and run away. If they don’t want to see me, that’s all right, but I’ll not allow them to starve. A couple cain’t live on love alone.” Dora crossed her strong arms over her large bosom. “Humpf!” No one would dare argue with her. Secretly, she was anxious to see the newlyweds. She loved them both and missed them . . . all hidden away like they were.

  Whiskey smiled at his willful wife, knowing she had only the best of intentions. “I’ll help you carry the tray, sweetheart,” he grinned. He figured he’d get extra points in the bedroom later, for doing this little favor for her, now.

  *

  The last train of the day was due in at any moment. Everything was ready. Fortunately, for the small staff at the Birdsong, these new arrivals would be their only guests for a day or so, allowing them to provide more personal attention.

  Patty heard the whistle of the arriving train and quickly gave the lobby one last perusal, making certain that everything was a nice as possible. Then her eyes fell upon the hotel guestbook. “Oh, this will never do,” she uttered. She had intended to bring out the new one. This one was turned to its last page and it was showing its age. Too many fingers, clean and not so clean, had turned the pages, signing or making their X. Looking up toward the door, she knew she had time to run around the corner of the desk, to her small office, and retrieve the new blue leather registry. Not only was it of the very finest paper, but each page had a gilded border. “Only the best for our guests,” she said proudly.

  The doors opened and three gentlemen, all of obvious wealth and importance, strode into the best lodging establishment in town. However, the primitive opulence failed to impress, as their eyes darted around the spacious lobby, with an air of disdain. One sniffed and wrinkled his nose as if something had gone bad under the settee.

  “Pardon me, Judge, but are we in the right place? Surely we have not been booked here? It is so provincial,” whined a tall and very thin man with small, gold-framed eyeglasses perched on the end of his overly long nose.

  “It doesn’t look that bad to me, dear boy. I believe it is clean and the owner’s have made an effort. In fact, I believe it has a pioneer elegance to it,” the white-haired man declared. He looked prosperous and quite intelligent, with his white mustache and beard. “One must make do with what one has. This is the Wild West, you know.”

  The third man stood frowning, but remained silent . . . that is until Patty came from around the corner, her glorious red hair curling about her perfect face and her green eyes flashing fire. “Mon dieux,” he gasped, softly.

  Patty had overheard the rude comments made by her guests, and she was ready for a fight. She loved the hotel and they had worked their fingers to the bone for these three stupid men.

  “I understand you have a problem with our hotel, gentlemen. You find it somehow lacking?” She looked directly at the skinny man with the eyeglasses. He reminded her of a weasel, and no doubt he was. “I assure you, sir, this is the finest hotel in all of Kansas, but if you prefer, I can find you rooms at another establishment. What do you say . . . sir?” She gritted her teeth, daring him to say something infuriating. “I am certain the Tumbleweed or the Hitchin’ Rail will have rooms available.”

  The distinguished white-haired gentleman gave a small bow and tried to smooth things over with the furious little redhead. Never before had he seen such fiery beauty and passion, all deliciously wrapped in one tiny and curvaceous package. She was magnificent.

  “Forgive us, madam,” he pleaded. “My friends and I are exceedingly tired from the lengthy train ride, and are out of sorts. Your hotel is a pleasant surprise, I assure you. We only long for a comfortable bed. May we register?”

  He looked sincere, Patty thought, as she tried to relax her shoulders and give the gentleman the benefit of the doubt. The older man was quite attractive and possessed kind eyes. She was still peeved at their lack of good manners, but she was somewhat appeased by his sincerity. Naturally, they were exhausted and needed to sleep. After one of Dora’s fine breakfasts, they would surely be more courteous and considerably more grateful for their superb accommodations.

  However, his skinny associate was anything but contrite. He had small, dark eyes and a pointed nose with spectacles perched precariously on the very end. Patty thought he resembled a weasel’s ugly cousin and had the manners of a polecat. He felt no need to apologize.

  Patty held her head high and said in her most proper voice, “Of course, sir. If you and your friends would sign our register, I will get you your keys. If you require anything, you need but ask. We pride ourselves on our fine cuisine, prepared by a master chef, and our excellent service.” She smiled slightly, picturing Dora in a tall chef’s hat. Perhaps she had stretched the truth slightly

  Glancing at the register she noticed the distinguished looking white-haired man was Judge Bartholomew Hastings, and the wea
sel was Thomas Frances Harrington, Esq.. The third man hadn’t yet signed his name; in fact, he had turned his face away from Patty and was looking anxiously toward the door, shifting his weight from one foot to another, while nervously mopping the perspiration from his forehead.

  This was most peculiar, Patty thought. “Excuse me, sir. Would you care to sign the register?” She raised her voice several notches to gain his attention, but he continued to ignore her. “Sir? You must sign your name.”

  Turning toward the older man, Patty asked, “Pardon me, Judge Hastings, but is your friend hard of hearing?” She asked this in all seriousness.

  “No, no. I don’t know why he is acting so peculiar.” The judge seemed genuinely puzzled. “Philippe. Sign the woman’s book and let’s go upstairs. Andre can fend for himself,” he exclaimed, clearly out of patience.

  Suddenly, the man, Philippe, threw open the door and disappeared down the wooden sidewalk, leaving everyone questioning his actions.

  Judge Hastings appeared surprised by the sudden disappearance of his companion, but simply shrugged his shoulders. “I am not certain why Philippe is behaving so oddly, madam, but I assure you all is well. I suspect he left to help our friend retrieve his bags. They will be along directly. Now, I’d like to see my room. If I may have my key?” He held out his well-manicured hand.

  Feeling a light brush against her elbow, Patty turned to see a smiling Cassie, waiting to be of service. Patty’s hand trembled only slightly, as she dropped the keys into his open palm. “Follow our Cassie up the stairs. She will show you to your rooms. Have a nice stay, gentlemen.” Hopefully, their guests did not notice the way her jaws clinched every time she was compelled to say something polite. It was only being professional, she told herself.

  The judge and the weasel smiled, as each man carried his own bags up the stairs, following the pretty blonde woman with the amazing lavender eyes. Admittedly, it was not her unusual eyes nor her lovely hair that had them smiling as they climbed the stairs behind her. This provincial hotel was looking better by the minute.

 

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