August (Prairie Grooms, #1)

by Kit Morgan

  Comprehension dawned, and Penelope blushed deeply. Then she had a thought, smiled, and gave her attention to Grandma Waller. What she was about to do would no doubt make her mother swoon, but “when in Rome ...” “Perhaps, Madam, if you stepped out to the lobby and then returned, you’d find what you were looking for ...”

  August’s jaw went slack as he stared at her.

  Seth’s grin was a mile wide. “Ma’am, if’n your sister is anything like you, I’ll be a happy man.”

  “Don’t press your luck, Seth,” August replied

  Grandma snickered. “Now, Seth, why don’t you show me the front counter?”

  He chuckled and stood. “Don’t mind if I do.” He held his arm out to Grandma who took it with a smile. “We’ll be back in no time, ya hear?” They left August and Penelope staring at each other.

  August smiled and stood. “Whatever are you up to, Miss Red?”

  Penelope did likewise, and smoothed the skirt of her dress. “I’m ... simply trying to figure out the way things are done in your country.”

  August came around the table, took her hand, and gently pulled her toward him. “Did you get rid of them just so you could steal a kiss from me?”

  “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean,” she replied with a slight smile

  He looked her up and down. “Uh-huh. And I suppose Grandma left so we could swap recipes and do a little quilting?”

  Her eyes twinkled. “If that is what interests you, Mr. Bennett, we certainly can.”

  He smiled like the devil. “Oh no, you’re not getting out of this that easy. This was your idea, remember?” he said and pulled her into his chest.

  Penelope’s head tilted up, her eyes now fixated on his. She pressed a hand to his chest, but it was an automatic reaction, one she’d done before when gentlemen in the past tried to take liberties. America, however, was supposed to be the “land of liberty” – and hadn’t she just said she needed to learn its ways? “And what, dear sir, is your idea?”

  “Something like this, I suppose.” Before she could say or do anything more, he crushed his lips to hers.

  A kiss from August Bennett was something entirely different from the small pecks attempted by her previous suitors. Her hand slid down his chest until her fingers locked around his belt. He deepened the kiss, and she felt his fingers twist in her hair, pulling her head back even further. His tongue delved into her mouth, exploring, and she found she welcomed the invasion. In fact, she found to her shock, she wanted a great deal more.

  He slowly lifted his face from hers. “And that, Miss Red, is what we in Clear Creek refer to as ‘sparking’.”

  “I believe I see why.” Her breathing ragged, she looked him right in the eye. “Well, we had best be careful, lest we set the prairie on fire.” She pulled his face down to hers, and kissed him again.

  * * *

  “... and then I hit the low-down skunk ‘cross the ear with my ladle, and kept the varmints busy while Mr. Berg and the Scotsman took care of the rest!” Mrs. Dunnigan said as she slapped her hand on the mercantile’s counter. “Don’t let it be said women out here ain’t tough. We are – we have to be!”

  Constance and Eloise looked at her in awe. They’d been listening to her tell how she and some of the other women in town had been kidnapped, including Sadie and the new Duchess of Stantham, Cozette Cooke. It was a tale full of adventure, romance, and daring rescues. But was it true?

  “It was an adventure, all right,” Belle said.

  Eloise turned to her. “You mean it really happened? Just as she said?”

  Sadie, Honoria asleep in her arms, nodded. “Every word.”

  “You poor thing!” Constance exclaimed and looked Sadie over, seeing her in a whole new light. “I had no idea you’d been through such an ordeal! And to be rescued by ... by...”

  “Jefferson and Cozette?” Sadie finished for her. “Yes, looking back it was incredible. And thankfully, it had a happy ending.”

  The bell over the doors rang, and Penelope walked in. “There you are!” Constance exclaimed. “Where have you ...” She peered at her more closely. “... oh my. What ... oh my!” She covered her mouth in scandalized glee.

  Penelope sat in the nearest chair and stared straight ahead, smiling mysteriously.

  Sadie stepped over and examined her starry-eyed expression. “Oh, I bet I know,” she said with a scowl. “Grandma ...!”

  Grandma Waller was just coming through the doors. “Land sakes, child, you don’t have to yell.”

  “Grandma, you were supposed to be chaperoning them!”

  Grandma took on an innocent air. “I was. Don’t think I wasn’t.”

  Belle smiled and shook a finger at the elderly woman. “I remember how you chaperone. You did it for Colin and I, remember?”

  Grandma smiled. “Sure do, child – and look at you now. I done chaperoned for you too, Sadie, or have you forgot?”

  Sadie shook her head as she studied Penelope. “He kissed her,” she said in resignation

  “Again?” Constance asked. “And we missed it?”

  “Don’t feel bad, so did I,” Grandma said, then caught Sadie’s eye. “Don’t you start nothin’ – I was just in the next room.”

  “And we missed it,” Constance repeated with a whine.

  That brought Penelope’s head up. “Constance, really! Who would want to kiss the man you’re to marry with the whole world looking on? And giggling,” she added pointedly.

  Constance made a face, but didn’t argue.

  Eloise laughed. “I guess this means you really want to marry him?”

  Penelope smiled to herself. “Oh, yes, I do ...”

  “Oh my,” Constance whispered to herself.

  “Well,” Sadie started. “I’m glad that’s settled. Come now, ladies. We need to get back to work and finish this dress ... before things get any worse.”

  They worked late into the afternoon, and did the same the next day. Penelope didn’t see much of August during that time, though she did hear (from Fanny Fig, naturally) that he’d gone to see Doc Drake about a wound – or five – incurred while working in the barn. August had refused to talk to anyone else about it, but Penelope suspected it had something to do with his new “acquisition” from Mr. Turner. Who knew a chicken could be so dangerous?

  Penelope decided right then and there on a name for the rooster. There had been a tenant farmer on the Stantham estate who loved a good fight and often caused them down at the local pub. His name was Clyde, and she giggled to herself between stitches as she applied the same moniker to August’s new rooster.

  “What’s so funny?” Constance asked.

  “Nothing,” she said, and pulled her needle through the last stitch. “There, I’m done. I hope.”

  “So am I,” said Sadie.

  “Me too,” announced Belle.

  Penelope and her sisters, along with Belle and Sadie, were the only ones left to put the finishing touches on the dress. “Does this mean it’s completed?” Penelope asked.

  “Yes. Which means you can get married,” said Sadie.

  Penelope blanched. She’d not been able to concentrate the last two days, ever since August had kissed her senseless – and she returned the favor. Now there would be no end to their kisses ... what then?

  “Penelope, what’s wrong? You’re turning as pink as a piglet in springtime!” Constance said with an alarmed tone.

  “Where on Earth did you hear such an expression?” Belle asked.

  “I made it up. I’m trying to talk like an American,” she stated in a serious tone.

  The sound of her voice brought Penelope out of her dream-like state. “I think it’s adorable – do keep it up. In the meantime, I ... I think I would like to be alone to take this all in. Would it be all right if I took a walk through town?”

  Sadie and Belle looked at one another. “I don’t see why not,” said Sadie. “Stay on the boardwalk, though. Sometimes the men ride through pretty fast. It’s almost lunch
time and they’ll be heading to the saloon about now.”

  Penelope stood as she nodded and stretched - she’d barely moved for hours, so intent had she been on getting the dress done. She turned to the door to leave just as Constance began to lament about not getting married too. She shook her head and smiled as she left. As soon as the next wedding dress was done, Constance would have her turn.

  But Penelope felt responsible for her sisters, and wanted them to have a chance to get to know their future husbands a little before they wed. She was just getting to know August, and found herself distracted by a few kisses. Good heavens, if a few kisses did this to her – the sensible one – how would they affect Constance and Eloise? “I can scarce imagine,” she groaned to herself.

  “Somethin’ troubling ya, ma’am?”

  Penelope came to an abrupt stop and stared at the disheveled man sitting in front of the sheriff’s office. “I beg your pardon?”

  “I said, is somethin’ troubling ya? Ya seemed upset.”

  She straightened. “I am nothing of the kind, Mr., ah ...”

  “Just call me Cutty.”

  “Cutty,” she repeated. “Miss Sayer. A pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

  He looked her up and down. “Ain’t it, though?”

  She took a step back. Something about him – aside from just his dress and smell – was making her uncomfortable. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to be going.”

  “Don’t mind if I do,” he blurted.

  She looked at him confused. “Do ... what?”

  “Accompany you. Ain’t often a fella like me gets to walk with a pretty gal like you.”

  Her eyes widened. “No. No, I ... don’t recall inviting you along.”

  “I invited myself.” His voice had changed, his words suddenly more precise. He stood and looked her right in the eye. “Shall we?” Thank goodness he didn’t offer her his arm – she wasn’t sure what she would do if he had.

  She started walking briskly, and he ambled along beside her. “Lovely weather we’re having, don’t you think?” he asked.

  “Yes, quite.” What else was she going to say?

  “You have any other relations in town?”

  “My sisters, you saw them. They were with me at the mercantile.”

  “I thought you all kinda looked alike. So you’re all here to marry?”

  “That’s right.”

  “You left England to come all the way out here to get hitched?”

  “Isn’t that what I said?”

  “Didn’t think I heard ya right the first time. Well, nice talkin’ with ya,” he said with a wave, then shuffled right off the boardwalk and into the street.

  Penelope stared after him. “His brain must be addled,” she mumbled to herself. She continued on, and tried to forget about Cutty and his odd ways. But then, wasn’t everyone in Clear Creek a little odd?

  She stopped up short. Good Heavens! Did that mean it was only a matter of time before she went round the bend?

  She shuddered and continued on her way.

  Twelve

  “Blast those Cookes, and blast those meddling cousins!” Thackeray peeked around the side of the livery stable to make sure no one was around before he continued with his tirade. “I knew I should have gotten rid of them years ago when I had the chance.”

  Out of habit, he pulled what was once a white, lace handkerchief from his pocket. It was little more than a rag now. He held it under his nose as if to ward off a stench, and stood straight as he contemplated his next move.

  “Duncan Cooke is enjoying himself in my estate, working my tenants, reaping what should be my rewards. Well, no more!” He began to pace, hands clasped behind his back, as he continued to work himself up. “I should have done it then, but no, I had to listen to that Brennan blackguard!” He stopped his pacing and glanced around. He was still quite alone. “And while I’m on the subject of that swindler, why didn’t I do away with him too? I could have married that fine little piece that’s now the Duchess of Stantham. But nooooo, Duncan Cooke married her, and instead of sipping French wine on the Stantham estate, I’m stuck here in this miniscule town out in the middle of bloody hell on earth!” He kicked at a rock, missed, and almost fell over. “Blast!”

  Thackeray paced faster. “There must be a way to win. I have to win. But that foul Duncan Cooke is in London and I’m here ...” he stopped. “Yes, here with his brothers, and now his cousins. My cousins.” He rubbed his whiskered chin and licked his lips. “It would serve the Duke right to lose it all,” he said and nodded to himself. “Lose as much as he took from me ... what should have been mine ...” He turned, stepped to a corner of the livery stable and peeked around it. “And I think I’ll start with our dear cousin Penelope ...”

  * * *

  Penelope walked to the hotel, turned and started back. August stepped out of nowhere and she walked right into him. “Oh!”

  He laughed. “You really should watch where you’re going, Miss Red.”

  She glared up at him. “Very funny. You did that on purpose.”

  He smiled. “If only I’d thought of it,” he said with a wink. “And I’d do it again if it meant stealing another kiss from you.”

  “Mr. Bennett ...”

  “I think we’re way past all that ‘Mr. Bennett’ nonsense, don’t you? Please, call me August. After all, we are to be married tomorrow – if not sooner.”

  “Sooner?” she gasped.

  “Your dress is done, correct?”

  She swallowed and backed up a step. “I suppose so ...”

  “You suppose so? What’s the matter, Miss Red? Don’t you want to marry me?”

  She stared at him. Marriage. It was so final. There would be no going back to England, no return to the life she once knew. But ... the man before her had shown her he was sensitive to her plight, and had done his best to give her a small piece of what she’d left behind. She glanced behind her at the hotel doors, and smiled at the memory of their tea ... among other things. “I do want to marry you, Mr. Benn ... August. I’m simply nervous, is all.”

  “I assure you, there is nothing to be nervous about, Miss Red. It’s going to be you and me against the world.”

  “That sounds awfully ... big.”

  “Oh, the world isn’t so big, at least not from here in Clear Creek. Probably because no one leaves.”

  She laughed at that and looked into his eyes. “You’ve been other places before coming to Clear Creek, haven’t you? You mentioned New York state.”

  He held his arm out to her and she took it. He led her down the boardwalk, away from the hotel. “That’s right. I was born and raised in Buffalo, which is a city of some size – about eighty thousand people.”

  “That large? I had no idea.” And she hadn’t. It wasn’t London by a long shot, but eighty thousand was about the size of Norwich or Brighton, substantial British cities.

  “Then I went to Texas, and then Mexico, during the war. Never fired a shot, incidentally – I was in the quartermaster corps, keeping the fighting troops supplied. I returned to Buffalo briefly to finish school, then headed west to Missouri, California, and finally what was then the Oregon Territory. Now that Oregon is a real state, that means something, you know?”

  “I’m afraid I don’t know, really. But I think I understand some of the significance of what you’re saying.”

  He smiled as he stopped and turned to look at her. “This territory becoming a state makes us feel like we’re part of something bigger, much bigger. We’ve got people in Washington City now, speaking on our behalf. Later this year we’ll get to choose our next president. These are exciting times, even for a tiny speck of a town like Clear Creek. One day, a lot of people will settle out here – you’ll see.”

  She looked around at the small buildings on either side of the street, dominated by the mercantile on one end, the hotel on the other. It was hard to visualize it being anything else. “But what if no one comes?”

  “Well, Miss Red, I�
��ll tell you. I’ve built myself a farmhouse, and a barn. I’ve got livestock, a few chickens ... one truly cantankerous rooster.” He put his hands on her upper arms and rubbed them. “You’re the only thing missing to make my life complete. With all of that, I could live and die here a happy man. I don’t need anything else.”

  She shivered at his touch. The heat from his hands was warm enough to feel through the cotton fabric of her dress, and part of her melted at the thought of him wrapping his arms around her and taking another kiss.

  “I’ve made my mind up to marry you, Miss Red. But I want you to make sure you want to marry me. I know life out here is about as different from England as you can get, but I’d be mighty happy to call you my wife.”

  His words were simple, yet they brought tears to her eyes. He was dead serious. He wanted to marry her – not because she was a mail-order bride, but because he genuinely liked her. She could tell by the way he flirted, how he looked her in the eye, how he tenderly touched her now and then when he thought no one else was looking. He’d done it in the mercantile, in the hotel when they were having tea, and at various other times, like he was doing now. She reached up and took his hands from her upper arms, and looked into his eyes. “Yes.”

  “Yes, what?”

  “Yes, August ... I’ll marry you, and happily.”

  His face broke into a wide smile and he swallowed hard. For a brief moment she thought he might shed a tear. But instead he put his arms around her waist, just as she’d hoped, bent his face to hers, and locked gazes with her. “Yes.”

  “Yes ... what?” she whispered.

  “Yes, I’ll marry you too.” He lowered his face another few inches, and smiled. “I’m about to kiss you in public. You don’t mind, do you? After all, this isn’t England – it’s all right here.”

  She wanted to speak, but all that came out was an inviting sigh.

  “I’ll take that as a yes,” he said, and did.

  Her moan deepened with the kiss, and she was vaguely aware of several sets of footsteps coming their way. By the time August lifted his lips from hers and she opened her eyes (she hadn’t even realized she’d closed them!) Preacher Jo and his wife Annie were standing next to them.