A Bride for Sam

by Linda Ellen

  She nodded thoughtfully, and he took her further on to explain a few more details about the workings of the operation.

  After a bit, they ascended the steps to his office and as he caught the tiny smile that came to her face, he looked around at the mess as if seeing it through her eyes. “Um...I guess I need to clean up in here a bit, don’t I?” he joked, and she laughingly agreed. At first sight, it probably appeared as though his papers were strewn everywhere and the room was in utter chaos. But that wasn’t so. Sam could lay his hand on any contract or piece of paper at any time. He liked to refer to his mode of operation as...orderly chaos.

  They only spent a few minutes up there before he escorted her back down the steps. She looked around again and asked, “You mentioned you had a helper. Why isn’t he here?”

  “Oh, yeah—Ross Beckmann. He works for me part time for a little extra cash, but he’s got a farm about three miles down river. I told him I didn’t have anything for him today. Also...I’d kind of hoped you’d want to see the place and...well...with the saw running,” he pointed to the bladed apparatus they had discussed earlier that currently was sitting quiet and still. “As I said before, it can be kind of loud on gentle ears.” He stopped and laughed out loud. “Finn says the circular saw makes a ‘Gawd awful screech’ when it’s cutting through a piece of wood. Anyway, I didn’t want it to hurt your ears.”

  She turned then and smiled up at him with such gratitude and affection, it took his breath away and nearly bowled him over. Good gracious, how’d I get so lucky as to get this angel as my bride?

  “So, what—” “Where does—” they began at once, then stopped and chuckled together. He gestured for her to speak and she pointed to the wall to the right. “Where does that door lead to?”

  He looked over at it and then again at her, swallowing. “That’s um...that’s where I sleep. The door leads to a lean-to storage area that I made into kind of a room for myself.”

  Beth Ann tilted her head, obviously interested. “May I see?”

  That’s not a good idea, his conscience whispered, but he pushed it aside and said, “Sure.”

  Walking the few paces, he opened the door and ushered her in, glad that he had made up his bunk that morning and picked up his discarded clothing. It wasn’t clean, but it was passable.

  He watched her face as she walked the few steps inside and turned a full circle, taking in the narrow space, the one window on the end, the pot belly stove, one chair, the small table on which sat a lantern and his Bible, and the box for his clothing.

  Finally she looked up at him. “This is where you live?”

  Immediately, he understood what she meant. He was a business owner. He should have a house or at the very least an apartment. Quickly, he explained, “Well...yeah. See...once our father, and then our mother passed, it was just me and Finn living in the family cabin over on the bluff above the river. Once Finn bought his place and moved out, well...it seemed a waste for me to go all the way home to just shuffle around in the empty homestead by myself, so...I made me this little room.” He shrugged uncomfortably. “It worked for me.”

  “But...the bed...it’s kind of narrow. I mean...” Beth Ann stopped and he saw her cheeks were pink again. “Oh, umm—did you say you have a cabin?”

  Now, he knew what she was thinking! “Yeah, sure. Oh honey, I wasn’t thinking of you moving in here with me! No! I was...well, I was going to wait until sometime later, maybe in a few days or so, and take you out to show you the old homestead. I was there a few days ago and...um, it needs some work...”

  Her face brightened and once again, he realized she’d probably been thinking that if she decided to remain his wife, she would have to call his small lean-to home. “I’d very much like to see your cabin, Sam. And...I’m an old hand at cleaning and fixing up...” she offered with a sweet smile, which he immediately returned.

  Glancing around again, she stepped over to a shelf below the small window at the end of the narrow room, on which was an assortment of woodcarvings.

  Intrigued, she picked up one of a bear standing on its hind legs, holding a trout in its mouth, and examined it. “This is quite good; very realistic. The caretaker at the orphanage where I grew up made carvings...but they weren’t as intricate as this one.”

  He drew near and gently touched it as he explained, “My father made that one.” She looked up at him as he continued, “During the long, snowbound winters, he’d sit around in the evenings and carve these. Sometimes he’d give one away as a gift. I’d never tried my hand at it until I moved into this little room. Now, sometimes on lonely evenings, I play at it. You’re the first I’ve told that to...” he admitted, feeling a bit shy. “I ain’t even shown Finn...I figured he’d poke at me about the quality compared to the old man’s.”

  “Which are yours, Sam?” Beth immediately asked, and he reluctantly indicated the ones on the lower shelves. She picked one that he considered his best so far and brought it up to the light of the window, examining every detail. “Oh Sam, this is very good, I’d say just as good as your father’s. Goodness, you even made claws on this squirrel...and the fur of its tail curled around...and its eyes...I feel as if they are looking straight at me,” she gushed, making him feel as if he had created something amazing, like one of those statues in Rome he’d seen likenesses of in a book once. Pride welled up in his chest and overflowed when she turned to look up at him again, her earnest expression declaring that she wasn’t just trying to stroke his ego. She meant it.

  What more could he ask for from a woman than this? She seemed to be able to tell what he was feeling, in this case, that his carvings weren’t yet up to his father’s standards. If he was dreaming, he sure hoped he never woke up.

  Standing together in the small room and gazing into one another’s eyes in the dim light from the tiny window, the atmosphere suddenly heated up as they both realized they were very much alone, unchaperoned—and legally married.

  His hand trembled a bit as he slowly raised it to brush his fingertips across Beth Ann’s cheek. “You’re so beautiful, Beth Ann,” he whispered, fascinated by the emotions playing behind those enchanting green windows to her soul.

  “Thank you...and you’re quite handsome, Sam,” her answer a demure murmur.

  The moment was right.

  Slowly, giving her time to turn away, he lowered his head until he could connect with her sweet lips; vaguely noticing she seemed to be stretching up on tiptoe to meet him halfway. Another breath, another heartbeat, and his lips touched hers.

  Sparklers seemed to ignite along his arms and behind his eyelids. The soft sweetness of her mouth coaxed a groan from deep inside his chest.

  Great day! He’d never felt anything like this before!

  Beth Ann found herself holding her breath in delightful anticipation of Sam’s kiss. When his warm lips finally pressed to hers, pleasure swept through so intensely it was all she could do to stay on her feet. Her hands came up and grasped his shirt to steady herself.

  Goodness! She’d been kissed before, surely—her former beau had given her chaste kisses many times after walking her home. And of course, the repulsive attack she had suffered at the hands of the abhorrent Lloyd Fetterman had been a kiss, of sorts.

  But this...she’d never felt anything so heavenly as the sensation of Sam’s lips, so warm and smooth, moving against hers. His beard was so soft and comforting as it brushed her cheeks...the secure feeling of his strong arms as they slowly circled around her...the pleasing taste of his mouth...the aroma of his masculine essence...all combined into one heck of a heady combination.

  This is what she had been waiting for all her adult life. Not only did she like this man to whom she was married, she also felt an incredible attraction for him, and now...desire was quickly heating up her insides. She’d never felt desire for a man before—surely not Stanley. She realized in the space of a heartbeat that she had never felt much of anything for Stanley—not even real friendship. For the first time since the n
ight he had told her he wanted to break things off with her, she felt truly thankful that he had!

  But ahh, Sam. A soft exhale escaped as their kiss went on and on and she sensed that he was feeling the same way as she—unwilling for this first blissful contact to end. With a satisfied sigh, he tilted his head to one side, deepening their kiss, and she felt such a thrill bolt clear down to her toes that it completely took her breath away. Were those stars behind her eyelids? At once, she opened to allow him full access and as she did so, she felt his quick intake of air and a tightening of his arms that were surrounding her. She found herself falling in love with the warmth, taste and scent of her new husband.

  Suddenly, Sam moaned deep in his throat and the pressure of his mouth began to abate until his lips disengaged from hers, leaving them both deliciously winded from the encounter. He took a half step back as she opened eyes that were dazed and misty. When they met his, she was oh so gratified to find his expression mirrored the feelings raging through her body; he was obviously as affected as she.

  There’s no question about it...unless Sam changes his mind, I vow to remain Mrs. Samuel Maynard forever...

  “Oh Beth...” Sam whispered as he raised a hand to smooth his beard, and then gently caressed her cheek with the backs of his fingers. “I didn’t mean to let that go as far as...I mean I shouldn’t have...” he paused and let out a bemused sigh. “Woman, you don’t know what you do to me!” he finally blurted with a playful grin.

  Overflowing with joy, Beth Ann laughed and returned his grin with a mischievous one of her own. Reaching up to pat her hair, which was trying its best to free itself from its restraints, she quipped, “Oh, I have a good idea, Sam. Much like what you do to me, I’m thinking.” However, immediately after uttering the admission, she realized the implications of what she had said and her face flamed scarlet.

  He tipped back his head and laughed out loud. Then, he clasped her elbow and turned to guide her out of the room. “Well, then, darlin’, I think we’d best be moving along—or this may turn out to be the fastest courtship on record!”

  Sam’s use of the endearment sent a shiver of delight down her spine and she met his smile with a matching one of her own.

  By the time the two emerged out into the open area of the mill and she answered his query that she had seen enough of the millworks that day, Beth Ann had sufficiently recovered her composure. Sam handed her up into the fringe-topped surrey and as he settled next to her on the upholstered seat, he took up the reins and smiled down at her.

  “Where to, darlin’? Do you want to go back to Charise and Finn’s, or go somewhere’s else?”

  Beth thought about that for a moment and then smiled up at him. “Um...Charise wrote to me about a lovely place that Finn has taken her a few times. It overlooks a long expanse and curve of the river, where you can see the landing and wharf with the steamboats and the ferry. Could we go there? I used to love watching the steamboats ply the river in Louisville, with its incredibly large and busy wharf, but it isn’t exactly a place for a female to go alone and...well...Stanley never...” she paused and clamped her teeth on her bottom lip as she scanned Sam’s face to see his reaction over mentioning her former beau.

  He didn’t seem to mind, but gave a nod and replied, “I know that place. It’s about a mile down this road that leads to Nebraska City. Most local folks call it—” he paused and she thought a bit of color came into his cheeks above his beard. Clearing his throat, he turned forward and flicked the reins with a, “Get up there.”

  Now, why didn’t he finish? Goodness...what do most of the residents call it?

  She didn’t say any more about it, but allowed Sam to set the pace and the subject of conversation. They talked about the fall foliage and their favorite foods to have for Thanksgiving, among other topics.

  “Sam...” Beth cooed at one point, reaching up to caress the side of his beard. “I love your beard. I didn’t think I would, but...it’s so soft. Are all men’s beards that way?”

  He sent her a grin before putting his eyes back on the road. “Thanks, darlin’. I work on it. A couple of years ago, Hodges Mercantile started carrying Ivory soap, so I use that on it and my hair, and well...all over,” he paused and Beth saw his cheeks get a bit pink. “And...then I rub sweet almond oil into it. Works like a charm.”

  “Sweet almond oil?”

  “Yep. Helps to have a brother that’s a barber. He knows things,” Sam added, with a quick glance at her and wiggled his eyebrows playfully. Beth giggled at his silliness.

  Finally, Sam pulled the surrey over and climbed out, reaching into the space behind the seat for the lap blanket. Swinging around, he handed Beth Ann the cover and then lifted her out of the conveyance in one easy swoop. Holding her sides for several heartbeats and smiling down into her eyes, he then took her hand and led her over to a large, flat boulder. As they neared, the landscape fell away and opened up to the most beautiful vista she had ever seen. Oh my, Charise’s description didn’t do this justice! It’s breathtaking!

  “Oh, Sam! This is simply magnificent! Look at that view!”

  He just smiled indulgently as he climbed up onto the rock and reached down, grasping both her hands to lift her effortlessly up beside him. They moved a few steps over and Sam arranged the blanket for them to settle onto the rock in comfort. Up on the hill the autumn breeze was nippy, and Beth wrapped her shawl tighter around herself as she surveyed the amazing panorama. Sam noticed and immediately wrapped an arm around her, tugging her against his side to shelter her a bit from the gentle wind. She snuggled against him to soak up some of his warmth.

  “Ahh Sam...I do believe that this may become my favorite spot in all of Brownville.”

  He chuckled. “Then I’d say you wouldn’t be alone in that opinion.”

  She couldn’t take her eyes from the expanse of the river, the rolling hills and many colored leaves on the trees—the vivid reds, yellows, and oranges, as well as the evergreens, and the water in the center flowing smooth and seemingly without a ripple. On the river, she could see the comings and goings of the water trade. A ferry was headed across to the Missouri side, flatboats gently floated by, and a steamboat was moored at the wharf. She could just make out men scurrying around, carrying cargo up its gangplank.

  “That’s the Selkirk moored down there. Looks like they’re loading wood for her boilers,” Sam observed.

  Beth Ann watched for a few moments, and then remembered what he’d said about selling firewood to the steamboats. “Yours?”

  “Yep. It’s a good chunk of change.”

  She nodded and watched for a few more minutes, and then turned a mischievous smile up at his bewhiskered face. “Sam?”

  “Hmm?” he answered glancing down to meet her eyes.

  “What do the townsfolk call this place?”

  His eyes flared for just a second and then he smiled, she thought a bit rascally, and answered, “Lover’s Vista.”

  “Oh...” she whispered, her pulse speeding up as her gaze locked with his. Mysterious connotations concerning the name swirled in her mind.

  Then...she watched his eyes drift down to her lips and then back up to meet her own and she shivered with a zing of expectation and longing.

  Chapter 10

  S am couldn’t resist. The place wasn’t called Lover’s Vista for nothing. Something about being alone with a girl up there just leant itself to some serious sparking. And when the girl was willing...

  His head leaned down of its own accord and his lips captured hers again. This second time was no less thrilling than the first, as her mouth acquiesced to the insistence of his own. Quickly she granted him access and molded her lips to his. If he’d thought their first kiss was wonderful, this time all words evaded his brain, there was only an ocean of feelings and emotions surging between them.

  Surely this was love! But...isn’t it too soon for his heart to feel this much? Whispers of doubt tried to interrupt, but he shoved them away and folded his bride into his e
mbrace. She came willingly.

  Within moments they found themselves lying back on the blanket, completely caught up in one another. Her scent, her taste; she was pure ambrosia. She seemed to instinctively react to his every motion as he ravaged her mouth. His left hand developed a mind of its own and decided to start on a quest of exploration. Part of his brain cautioned that this was too much too soon. He was the experienced one in this situation. He knew she was an innocent and probably had no inkling of how tenuous a man’s control over his body’s reactions could be in circumstances like this. She wasn’t one of the floozies at the Lucky Buck! And she trusted him.

  That thought shattered his reality.

  Come on, Sam, pull back...NOW. Or you’ll hate yourself tomorrow...or worse...SHE’LL hate you tomorrow. She deserves respect.

  With considerable effort, he dragged his lips from hers, striving to catch his breath as he tipped his head back and closed his eyes for a few seconds, before allowing his gaze alone to feast on her face, her lips... She lay within his embrace with her head on his forearm, her eyes closed, her lips rosy and damp from his kisses. He could see the soft skin around her mouth was pink from the friction of his beard and an unexpected feeling of pride and possessiveness welled up inside him as a wild thought sprang into his mind...I’ve branded her as mine.

  Slowly, she opened those long-lashed green eyes and stared up at him. Then, she blinked as if just coming to the realization of how hot the sparks were burning between them. He watched as she drew in a deep breath.

  “Oh Sam...I...I’ve never been kissed like that before.” Raising a hand, she smoothed his beard over his jaw. “You...you are one mighty fine kisser, my husband,” she murmured, allowing her eyes to roam his face, his cheeks, his lips, and back up to his eyes once more.