by B C Yancey
Passengers, luggage, and livestock—cows from the sound of it—were being unloaded, clomping their way across the wooden boardwalk before dirt and grass muffled their steps.
"Ready?" Everett asked, squeezing her hand. "My car is parked up ahead, near the livery."
Nodding, she tightened her grip on her walking stick and followed him across the platform and around the building.
"Good evening, Captain Monterose!" A gravely male voice called out and walked up to them. He sounded like a happy sort, the kind who was instantly able to put a person at ease, despite the fatigue tinging his words. "Nice to have you back in town. I'm assuming this is the new wife Marcus mentioned you'd gone to fetch?"
Everett grumbled a curse under his breath before saying louder, "Evening to you too, Doc," he let go of her hand and settled his arm around the back of her waist. "And yes, this is my wife, Elyria. Elyria, this is Doctor Gilbert; we served together during the war."
"Pleased to meet you, Doctor," she said with a smile.
"She's a far sight better than your first pick, Captain, if you don't mind my saying," he chuckled. "Prettier too, but don't tell Eleanor I said so or I'll never hear the end of it."
Everett coughed.
"Elenore," Elyria frowned, "is she your-"
"Ex-fiancé," he muttered, pressing a gentle hand to the small of her back to prod her forward, "she married Doc's youngest son Eustace."
"That she did; and the poor devil hasn't had a moment's peace since."
Elyria choked on a laugh and covered her mouth.
Everett chuckled beside her.
Doc continued, unfazed. "But they seem to love each other to distraction, and have managed to produce some attractive offspring, so I suppose that's all a father can hope for." He sighed, then cleared his throat, "Well, I better let you two go. No doubt you're aching to get home after your journey. It's awful nice to meet you, Mrs. Monterose, I look forward to seeing you again."
She bit back a nervous giggle, and smiled, "And you, Doctor."
His footsteps across the gravel road receded. Everett let out an aggrieved sigh, steering her in the opposite direction. "Sorry about that, Doc's a good man and an exceptional doctor, but he does tend to be a bit chatty."
"It's all right. He's very likable, even if he did name his son Eustace."
Everett laughed. "I couldn't have said it better myself." Bringing her to a stop, she heard a jangle of keys and then the soft click of a lock. "Your chariot, my love. It's nothing fancy and can be a little temperamental at times, but it saves me from walking all over town."
"Evening, Captain," another male voice said, this one sounding younger than Doc. "Glad to have you back in town. Hey, is that your new wife?"
Heaving a tired sigh, Everett muttered a curse under his breath, then raised his voice and said, "Evening, Gus, glad to be back. We'll catch up later if that's all right?"
"Sure thing, good to meet you, Mrs. Monterose."
Elyria smiled and waved in the man's general direction before Everett helped her into the car and shut the door.
Four more people greeted Everett before he managed to get in the car beside her and maneuver the vehicle onto the road toward home.
"I didn't realize you were so popular," she murmured with a smile.
He growled. "Neither did I. Makes me think they've all lost their marbles."
She patted his hand and bit back a smile, "There there, I'm sure Captain Rattlesnake will know how to make them go away if he really wants to."
Everett chuckled, squeezing her hand before the car slowed and turned a corner. "We're almost home…it's about a quarter-mile up ahead from here."
"Home," she said softly. A swarm of butterflies took flight in her belly at the word. Her senses became hyper-aware of every smell and sound until he pulled the car to a gentle stop and then helped her out a moment later.
The air held a crisp, woodsy aroma—the kind that's noticeable after heavy rain—mixed with the pleasant smell of cooking food she didn't know the source of.
"Ready?" He asked with a breathless note of anticipation in his voice. "I thought we might start in the back of the house?"
Elyria nodded and squared her shoulders, "Lead the way, Captain."
Thirty-Three
Everett led her up the stairs to the covered porch and unlocked the back door, cringing when it screeched open like a wailing banshee protesting their intrusion. "Sorry about that, guess I need to oil the hinges."
Gripping her hand tight, they crossed into the large living and dining room area and from there showed her around the entire house.
Blatantly evident from the moment he opened the door, his home was furnished for a bachelor. It would have to be rectified immediately if they both wanted to eat together, let alone anything else while in the house.
Standing there, taking it all in as a married man, it smacked him in the face just how lonely and meager his existence had been up till now. The fact that he was not poor by any means, and hadn't been since selling the fireworks factory, made his surroundings more miserly than he'd ever realized.
The majority of his extensive book collection surrounded his favorite overstuffed chair with matching ottoman and sat in the designated reading spot next to a small side table and lamp.
It was a cozy little area that now seemed cut off from the rest of the room by an ever-widening void of space between the reading chair and his small dining table with sitting for one.
Everett showed her to his modest-sized kitchen and even more meager pantry in trepidation. Years of hating to cook and taking all possible meals at the cafe in town showed.
He owned one pot and a single pan, along with a chipped glass for drinking, a plate, a warped spoon slightly flattened on one side and curved on the other, a fork, and a knife better suited for slathering on butter than cutting meat.
When he accepted his current teaching position, Aunt Mable had lamented his lack of proper cooking tools on their first visit. Ever since then, she traveled with her entire kitchen any time they came to see him for a length of time.
He'd always laughed and passed the tendency off as a funny quirk, but now he understood why she'd felt the need to do so.
Elyria remained silent while he led her from the main living area over to the guest room, which housed a good-sized bed shoved up against the far wall to give the room more space. It had been a gift Aunt Mable, and Uncle Edgar had insisted on buying for their visits.
A lone bedside table occupied the left side, directly under the window, and held a lamp and small clock. Also, to the left of the bed along the wall resided the built-in closet that housed a pitiful supply of bed linens and towels.
He showed her the bathroom spacious enough for a sink, the toilet, and a large clawfoot tub that allowed him to submerge his full height.
Lastly, he led her to what would now be their bedroom and approached it with excitement and bated breath. He spent the vast majority of his time in this room, his refuge from the stresses of the world, and it showed.
There was a comfortable air to the space, one that welcomed and invited he now realized the rest of his home didn't possess.
Quite large for a bedroom, a necessity he'd insisted on when drawing up the plans to have it built, it accommodated two chests of drawers, writing desk and chair, queen-sized bed, a nightstand on either side, and three tall bookshelves filled with the remainder of his collection.
Turning to Elyria with mixed emotions, he asked, "Well, what do you think?"
"Out of the entire house, this room and the bathroom are the only ones that feel like you actually live here."
His brow arched and his lips curled in a wry smile. "Really?"
She looked at him, and nodded, "It's faint, but they're the only two spaces where your cologne lingers…all the other rooms feel impersonal and empty. In here there's a sense of warmth and life."
It was a good way to describe what he'd only just realized himself about where he'd spent the past s
ix years of his life. He closed his eyes and sniffed the air, but it only smelled like home to him.
Shrugging his shoulders and smiling, he took her into his arms and whispered, "We'll buy some new furniture and warm the place up. It could use a woman's touch."
"Turn it into a lovers haven?"
He bent his head and kissed her, "I like the sound of that."
Her stomach growled, reminding him he didn't have any food in the house. Pressing another kiss to her lips, he pulled away and ran a hand through his hair. "On a scale of one to starved, how hungry are you?"
"Is famished before starved?"
Everett chuckled. "They're the same thing in my book. Maybe there's still time to go to the café?" He checked his watch and cursed, 8:00. "So much for that idea. It closed a half-hour ago."
"I'm sure I could-" A sharp knock at the door interrupted her. "Is it normal for you to have a visitor this late at night?"
He pressed another kiss to her lips and sighed, "No, but I didn't think it normal to be stopped and greeted by so many people at the station either."
She laughed and walked with him to the front door.
"Is it too much to hope whoever it is might be bearing food?" He pulled open the door and smiled.
Marcus stood before him, as though summoned by the food gods themselves, a hot pad in each hand and holding a casserole dish of heavenly smelling food covered in melted cheese. "Evening, Everett, nice to see you again, Miss Elyria Ormond of 224 Rhode Island Ave. I see you found each other."
She nodded and smiled. "That we did."
"We got married a month ago today," Everett murmured, grinning down at her. "Thanks again for the train ticket."
Marcus blushed. "My pleasure, Cap…" he cleared his throat and nodded down to the dish of food in his hands, "I saw you two arrive a little bit ago, and I thought I'd bring this over just in case you hadn't stopped to eat at Katherine's Café on your way home."
"You devil!" Everett grinned, motioning the man inside. Common knowledge about Marcus the postman in their little town—and one more reason Everett enjoyed having him for a neighbor—was that he happened to be an exceptional cook. "I'm so happy I could kiss you."
Marcus shrunk back at the same time he held the dish out and remained firmly on the doorstep. "Wh-whatever for?"
"Don't look so worried." Everett laughed and took the proffered dish of food. "Thank you for dinner; you've saved us from going hungry."
Marcus let out a relieved sigh and smiled, "Glad to hear it…I best let you two eat in peace and settle in. I'm sure glad you both made it home safe; hope you enjoy dinner. Sally—that'd be my wife—said it's a real winner." With a nod, he turned and marched across the porch, then down the steps with an agility Everett envied. "You two have a good night."
Thirty-Four
The next five days before the start of school were spent sorting through Elyria's belongings and crates of furniture she'd kept in storage while living with Daphne they'd sent ahead.
While getting everything sorted and put in their proper place, Everett set about helping her get familiar with the layout of the town and her immediate surroundings.
To do this, he took her on long walks, as often as his recalcitrant leg would allow; all so that she would have a sense of independence once he went back to teaching.
Each day they went out, the never-ending supply of well-wishing townspeople, eager to converse with her husband never ceased to surprise her.
She'd been so used to the cold efficiency of Washington DC making her invisible for so long, that the friendliness and warmth hit like a shock to the system, albeit a pleasant one.
The night before school started, Everett's leg seemed to be bothering him more than usual. However, despite being in obvious pain and moving slower than usual, he didn't let it stop him from working outside around the house.
So, while he oiled hinges and fixed broken boards in the side fence, Elyria set to work creating a special night for him in appreciation for all he'd done to help her feel at home and welcomed.
She spent the day using her new pots and pans cooking up Salisbury steak with creamy mushroom gravy, sides of mashed russet potatoes and sautéed carrots, and freshly baked dinner rolls.
And just in case he was still hungry after all that food, she baked a two-layered yellow cake with chocolate frosting for dessert.
After setting the table with their new dishes and cutlery, she walked to the back porch and threw open the door. "Dinner's ready!"
There was a moment of silence, and then, "I'll be right in! Just give me a minute to wash up."
Elyria removed her apron and hung it in its designated place in the kitchen just as the door opened and Everett stepped inside.
He let out a low whistle and limped over to her, "Is it my birthday, and I didn't know it?"
She laughed and shook her head, tucking a lock of hair behind her right ear. "No, I just wanted to make you a nice dinner tonight to say thank you."
He took her into his arms and kissed her, "For what?"
Elyria caressed his stubbled jaw, "For being so good to me."
"That's because I love you." He kissed her again, then pulled back. "It's getting worse by the hour."
"You make it sound like it's an affliction," she chuckled.
"Maybe it is. But it's one I never want to be cured of."
Her heart squeezed painfully at his words, and tears stung her eyes. "I love you too," she whispered, "and I hope you like Salisbury steak, cause that's what you're having for dinner."
"I do, it's one of my favorites at the café." He stole another kiss before they sat side by side at the table and began dishing up their food. "There's enough food here for a small army."
Elyria blushed. "I thought you might take some with you tomorrow for lunch—unless you had other plans."
He laid down his fork and reached for her left hand, "If you plan on eating with me, we have a deal."
She smiled and nodded. "I'll heat it and bring it over around noon?"
Squeezing her fingers before picking up his fork once more, he said, "Sounds perfect."
The meal, one of the best she'd ever made in her adult life, progressed with easy conversation interwoven with soft kisses.
"That was a really nice dinner, Pegleg," he whispered with a kiss to her cheek and stood. Clearing their dishes from the table, he asked, "You still wanting to go for a walk after I put the food away?"
Elyria grabbed the bowl of potatoes and carrots and placed them on the kitchen counter before heading back for the remainder of the steaks and rolls. "Actually, I thought you might enjoy relaxing here at home tonight…giving your leg a rest."
Everett took the pot and bowl from her hand, set it on the counter with a light clatter, then took her in his arms. "I sure do like you, Pegleg."
She hugged him and closed her eyes, resting her head against his chest. "Do you ever wonder where you'd be in life if we hadn't met?"
"You mean if you hadn't disobeyed Winters my first day?"
Elyria nodded.
"I'm pretty sure I'd be dead by now. I wanted it bad enough; I would have found a way to end my misery."
She clenched her eyes and tightened her hold around his waist. "Don't say that."
He shrugged. "It's true. My life was lonely and miserable until I met you—even the few parts I thought were bearable. But I was only existing, waiting."
Looking up at him, she cradled his face in her hands and brushed her thumbs across his stubbled cheeks. "In that regard, I think you and I were the same…even though I didn't realize just how lonely I was at the time."
"What did I ever do to deserve you?"
"Have you helped a gaggle of old women cross the street lately?"
He laughed and shook his head. "Nope, but I did save an entire bus of orphans this morning before breakfast."
Grinning, she pressed a kiss to his cheek. "There you have it then. The reward for saving orphans is one blind Pegleg who'll love and adore y
ou for the rest of your life."
A low, playful growl escaped him before he cupped her jaw in his hands and plied her lips with a heated, driven kiss.
Moments later, he pulled away and murmured, "When you said relaxing at home tonight…does that involve you doing some relaxing with me? In the tub, maybe?"
She blushed and tilted her face up to kiss his chin and along his jaw, "I hoped you'd ask."
Thirty-Five
A month later, Everett found himself at school glancing at the clock on the opposite end of the room, cursing under his breath when only five minutes had passed.
What started as a typical pleasant day, quickly evolved into a miserable one, and over the past hour, he found himself counting down the minutes until Elyria arrived for lunch.
His eyes wandered to the reason; thirteen-year-old Carson Wagner. The young man with raven black hair, a spattering of freckles across his cheeks and the bridge of his nose, and eyes the color of green sea glass, sat at his desk tugging his sleeves down around his wrists; doing his best to appear unfazed by the growing tension in the air between him and Milo Goodwin who now sat three desks behind.
Only six months separated the two boys in age, but Milo easily stood a foot taller and heavier than Carson's thinner frame.
From the moment Everett accepted the teaching post up until the end of the last school year, both boys were the closest of friends. But something had changed between them over the summer and Everett had no idea what it might be.
Earlier that day, they'd been excused for their fifteen-minute morning break when Milo instigated a fight—behavior out of character for the fourteen-year-old.
Carson did his best to ignore the jeers and jabs until Milo pushed Carson down and called him a particularly vile name.
Everett rushed from his perch at the side door, shouted for the boys to stop and placed himself between them for good measure when Carson stood up with scraped and bloodied palms.
Rolling his sleeves to his elbows, Carson raised his fists and widened his stance, ready to fight back.
Everett froze, the reprimand perched on the edge of his tongue suddenly forgotten. His stomach lurched, then sunk to his toes in dread.