Blue Moon

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Blue Moon Page 31

by Jill Marie Landis


  When he heard Ern’s voice booming in the stairwell and then saw the peacekeeper help Judge Richmond down the narrow stairs, he had an urge to run. His panic intensified when everyone in the room squeezed in closer, pressing forward so as not to miss a word.

  Leaning hard on his cane, the judge made his way across the room with Ern at his elbow. Finally he stopped right in front of Olivia, craning his neck so that he could look up at her.

  “Where’s the groom?” His voice grated like an unoiled hinge.

  Noah cleared his throat. “Right here.” He took a step forward, stood beside his bride, and reached for her hand. As soon as they touched, a calm swept through him and he knew he would be all right.

  Judge Richmond peered over his spectacles. “You sure you both want to do this?” He stared into Olivia’s eyes.

  She whispered, “Yes.”

  He glanced over at Noah. “Well?”

  Noah nodded back.

  Then Richmond looked over at Payson. “You sure you want to give your daughter to this man?”

  Noah felt his face burn. Although he was certain Payson would not object, he realized he was holding his breath.

  “I know of no finer man than Noah LeCroix,” Payson assured the judge.

  Noah barely heard a word after that. He had seen only one wedding ceremony and that from the edge of the forest, where he had hidden and watched Hunter marry Jemma. He had lost his eye only a few weeks before and back then could not think of showing himself and ruining their day.

  He had little idea of what to expect of this ceremony and soon realized that if anyone were ever to ask him what the judge had said today, he probably would not be able to relate any of the details.

  He did know that when he swore to love and to honor, to cherish and to keep Olivia until death parted them, that he meant each and every word of the vow. He knew, too, that the love in her eyes when she spoke her own vows was real, and true, and lasting. When she promised to love and obey, to cherish him always, to have and to hold him until death, that in that singular moment, he felt as if they were completely and entirely alone. The strangers, the curious onlookers, the Mathesons, and even the Bonds who loved them might well have been hundreds of miles away.

  In that instant nothing else existed save the love they shared with one another, the memories they had already made and those yet to make.

  Judge Richmond did not tarry over the words or the sentiment, he simply pronounced them man and wife without fanfare.

  “There,” he said, shoving his glasses up his crooked nose, reaching for the hat Ern held out to him. “That ought to do it. Now, I need to be on my way. Ern, you better come along and help me into my buggy before all that blackberry wine I had upstairs starts to take effect.”

  “Now what?” Little Pay shouted, breaking the silence as the adults around him laughed.

  Not to be outdone, Freddie echoed, “Now what?”

  “Kiss the bride!” a man hollered from the front of the store.

  Olivia turned her face up to Noah expectantly, a slow, knowing smile on her lips. He couldn’t believe they expected him to actually kiss her right in the middle of the crowded store.

  He swallowed. Hard. He looked around and saw that everyone was waiting expectantly, most of all Olivia.

  “You don’t have to,” she whispered. Her eyes told him differently. He closed his eye and leaned toward her, unerringly found her mouth and tried to shut out the rest of what seemed like the entire world. In two heartbeats he forgot they were not alone. He became lost in the taste and scent of her, in the moist softness of her lips, in the promise of the future.

  Faye initiated a round of applause. Hoots and hollers started in earnest. Olivia pulled away, her cheeks ablaze, her eyes wide and startled as if she, too, had momentarily forgotten where they were. Payson took Olivia in his arms and hugged her. Susanna walked over to Noah and stood on tiptoe so that she could kiss his cheek. The boys each grabbed one of his hands and started tugging him in two different directions.

  While Noah finally let them lead him to a counter where Faye had set out some cookies, candies, and glasses of rich, dark wine, he smiled at Olivia and watched as some of the women shyly stepped up to congratulate her.

  Olivia stared into the sea of unknown faces, wishing Noah had not been so obliging to the boys and had stayed by her side, but she couldn’t blame him for escaping. Faye had done her very best to muster up a wedding party because she had been determined, as she had assured Olivia in a whisper, to turn what had been an extremely trying day into a celebration.

  Unexpectedly, one of the women suddenly handed her a folded sheet of paper. She appeared quite shy as she ducked her head in greeting.

  “I’m Mary Ellen Walker,” she said quietly. “An old friend of Faye’s. I thought you might be needing these recipes.” She held out the page. “They’re three of my favorites. I’d ’a put down more, but I couldn’t write any faster on such short notice.”

  Expecting nothing but censure after all she had revealed this morning, Olivia could only stare at the woman in surprise. When she finally managed to look down at the recipes carefully penned in ink, the letters blurred and wavered.

  Pulling herself together, she looked up.

  “Thank you, Mary Ellen. I’ll treasure these recipes always and think of you every time I make calf’s head or cider cake or persimmon pudding.”

  Another woman, this one older than Mary Ellen with a face lined and care-worn, her brow knit in a permanent frown from squinting in the sun, shoved a folded homespun cloth at Olivia.

  “Here, this ain’t much, but it’ll get you started, I reckon.”

  As she carefully opened the piece, Olivia complimented the colorful pink and lavender petunias embroidered around the scalloped edges. Hard-pressed to find words to express her thanks, she stared up at the stranger in awe.

  “It’s a tablecloth,” Susanna prompted. She stood at Olivia’s elbow like a proud mother hen.

  “Thank you,” Olivia told the older lady. “I’ll treasure it always.”

  A girl who looked younger than herself quickly slipped into the circle of women. She thrust an old, brass, long-handled combination strainer and ladle at Olivia.

  “Congratulations, ma’am. I’m sorry we almost hung your husband.”

  Olivia had to bite her lips until she could calmly thank the girl. She then turned to Susanna and Faye.

  “I don’t understand,” she said softly. “These women don’t even know me.”

  Faye chuckled. “But they know the Prince of the Ohio, and after the way he stood up for you today, I’m certain everybody wants to make up for any ill thoughts they might have started to entertain.”

  “But—”

  “Just smile and say thanks, honey,” Susanna advised. “You don’t need to fret anymore.”

  Not everyone in the room stepped up to personally wish her well, but by the time the last of the women had congratulated her, Olivia’s arms were full of hand-worked pieces, various cooking utensils, lengths of cloth, homespun thread, and even a small basket of fresh brown eggs.

  When Noah finally caught her eye from across the room, her heart swelled with joy.

  epilogue

  Bond Homestead

  Noah stood in front of the cabin watching the Bonds, a family together for a few moments more. He delighted in watching his wife, his Olivia. Dressed in a lightweight muslin gown that would see her through the long walk home, she had packed a few of her essential things, only what they could carry this time. She made him proud when she included his mother’s shawl and her doeskin gown.

  She was ready to leave her family. This time there would be only tears of joy, not sorrow, except for Freddie’s tears. He still could not understand why his sister had to leave again.

  While Noah waited with Payson, Olivia tried to explain to the boy that they would both come back to visit soon. While they were talking, Susanna had disappeared inside.

  “But, Livvie, I don’t
want you or Noah to go away.” He locked his little arms around her neck and planted two loud wet kisses on her cheek, leaving a sticky peppermint-scented trail behind. When Olivia finally managed to escape his hug, she stood him on the ground and looked to Noah for help.

  “We’ll be back in a few weeks,” Noah promised. “Olivia will need more clothes and some more of those presents she got today.”

  Then he turned to Olivia. He cupped her cheek and traced her soft skin with his thumb, still finding it hard to believe that she was his wife, that she belonged to him forever. The meaning behind Hunter’s words of advice came rushing back to him when he suddenly realized that he loved Olivia enough to stay on with her family if that would make her happy.

  “If you want, we’ll stay,” he whispered. It wasn’t until she shook her head no that he realized how much it meant to him that she truly was looking forward to going back to Heron Pond.

  “I want to be with you, Noah, in your home. I want us to make our own way. But I would like to come back in the fall to help with the harvest.”

  He smiled. “I told you I am willing to learn what being part of a family means. And about loving.”

  She reached up, drew his face down close to hers, and whispered softly, “I’ll teach you all there is to know.” As she gazed into his eyes, he nodded in the direction of the boys, reminding her that they were not alone.

  Just then, Susanna came back out of the cabin carrying a small bundle in her hands. She walked over to them and smiled up at Noah.

  “I have a present for the two of you, something for luck.” She handed the gift to Olivia.

  Noah watched as his new bride unfolded a linen towel Susanna had wrapped around the gift—a small silver pitcher with a dent in one side near the handle. The significance was lost on him, but tears instantly wavered in Olivia’s eyes.

  “Why, this was the creamer to your silver tea service.” Olivia tried to hand the gift back to Susanna. “I can’t take this. It belonged to your great-grandmother. Didn’t you once tell me that it came from England?”

  “You have to keep it. It’s a remembrance, from all of us to the two of you,” Susanna told her.

  “But I thought the tea set was stolen by Sullivan’s men.”

  Her stepmother shook her head as the boys and Payson gathered close and stared at the shining silver object in Olivia’s hands, remembering.

  Susanna spoke softly, reverently. “The scoundrels dropped this piece when they rode off. It’s a little bit battered, but it survived.”

  Payson held a thin book in his hands. He was smiling at Olivia. “Weren’t we all a bit battered? And didn’t we survive? Take it, Livvie. And take this, too.”

  He looked over at Noah. “I hope on those long winter evenings when you have nothing to do, you might want to read to your husband by candlelight.”

  Susanna laughed. “I’m sure they will think of other things to do on long, cold winter evenings, Payson.”

  Olivia blushed. Noah cleared his throat, feeling more than a bit uncomfortable.

  “Like what?” Little Pay wanted to know.

  “Like what?” Freddie echoed.

  Noah sighed and decided he had learned more than enough about the intricacies of family life for one day. He was ready to take Olivia home.

  “Time to go,” he told her. He reached for his pack, took the silver creamer that Olivia handed him and tucked it inside, then slipped the strap over his shoulder.

  Olivia was looking down at the new book in her hand. “Percy Bysshe Shelley?”

  Noah glanced over her shoulder. The words on the pages looked like nothing but dots and specks and lines to him. He did not see how the symbols held the power to bring tears to her eyes, but somehow they did.

  Payson said, “It’s a book of poetry. I thought you should have at least one book in your new home. I marked a special place for you in Prometheus Unbound.”

  Olivia turned the pages until she came to one where a small dried wildflower lay pressed inside. She carefully lifted the fragile flower and stared down at the words. Noah noticed that there were some lines drawn beneath some of the letters. He did recognize an H among them.

  Olivia whispered. “To forgive wrongs darker than death or night; … To love and bear; to hope till Hope creates … is to be good, great, and joyous, beautiful and free.”

  “Oh, Daddy.” She reached for her father and put her arms around his neck. “Thank you, so very, very much. I’ll treasure this always.”

  Payson hugged her close. When Olivia finally drew back and looked up at her father, Noah was relieved by the bright smile on her face.

  “You are already beautiful, Livvie. Now you must go and be joyous and free.” Payson hugged her one last time. He turned to Noah and offered his hand, then changed his mind and hugged him, slapping him on the back. “Good luck to you, son. I know you’ll take good care of her.”

  Noah watched Olivia brush Little Pay’s hair back off his forehead with her fingers, a last touch, an unspoken, loving gesture of good-bye.

  “If it gets any later, we might as well stay the night.”

  He sighed, shifting the weight of his pack as he picked up his rifle. He looked off toward the southwest, toward home.

  When Olivia slipped her hand into the crook of his elbow, eyes dry and smiling, ready to go with him, Noah knew that no matter what the future held in store for them, they would face it together.

  “I’m ready.” Olivia smiled up at him.

  “Then let’s go home.”

  The cypress and tupelo swamp closed around the couple in the low, sleek pirogue as it cut through the water, guided by the sure, strong strokes of the man as he dipped the paddle into deceptively still water. Below the surface speckled with emerald duckweed, an unseen current flowed swift and sure, carrying fresh water through the swamp, ensuring purity, passing on ancient wisdom and all the secrets of the water, not only to the man, but to the tiny bud of life nestled in the woman’s womb.

  The woman looked up, through the thick canopy of leaves and branches, at the patches of sky streaked orange and gold with sunset. High above them, through the gathering mist, she saw the outline of a dwelling amid the trees and recognized the sturdy, well-constructed cabin and the wide wooden porch that surrounded it. The house was suspended in the branches of a tree that had grown old before the first inhabitants walked the land.

  She turned to the man behind her and let her smile convey most of her thoughts, for there were no fitting words that she could use to express her love, her gratitude, her joy, save two.

  “We’re home.”

  About the Author

  JILL MARIE LANDIS’S twenty+ novels have earned distinguished awards and slots on such national bestseller lists as the USA TODAY Top 50 and the New York Times Best Sellers Plus. She is a seven-time finalist for Romance Writers of America’s RITA Award in both Single Title and Contemporary Romance as well as a Golden Heart and RITA Award winner.

 

 

 


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