A Season Beyond a Kiss

by Kathleen E. Woodiwiss

  The milliner smiled, pleased by their show of gratitude. Jeff extended his appreciation a bit further by suggesting that his young wife had need of another bonnet or two to go with her new gowns. In this instance, Raelynn was willing to accept his largess, for in passing the millinery, she had seen several that were at the very least exceptional. She had little difficulty choosing a half dozen to try on and posed prettily in each for her husband. By the warming glow in his eyes, Raelynn was wont to think that he was enjoying his newly acquired status as husband. When she asked which of the hats he liked best, he showed no hesitancy in selecting the prettiest two of the lot, leaving her little else to do but smile and eagerly nod.

  Upon leaving the milliner’s shop, Jeff deposited their purchases in the carriage and then, with Raelynn on his arm, continued wending his way down the boardwalk. Thaddeus followed with the landau at a snail’s pace, now and then pulling over to let other conveyances pass on the street. Even so, he was always near at hand just in case the couple wanted to ride or go to some other area of the city.

  When Raelynn and Jeff paused at a quaint inn to share a light lunch, other couples crowded around their table to extend hearty congratulations and good wishes for what seemed a marvelous match. When the couple returned once more to the boardwalk, Thaddeus waved a chortling farewell to another driver and climbed to his seat on the landau. More introductions were made here and there along the way, making Raelynn’s head spin with all the names and faces she’d later have to recall. As the afternoon progressed, she became increasingly cognizant of the fact that her husband knew a surprising number of people and had more friends than seemed possible for only one person.

  Old women seemed to adore him, and with good cause, his young wife smilingly determined, for he was especially generous in lending his attention to them, as if they were the very joy of his life. He called them fondly by pet names and squeezed their fingers affectionately as he bestowed brief kisses on wrinkled cheeks or blue-veined hands, evoking giggles or secret smiles, at times all but hidden behind dignified miens.

  The easy camaraderie Jeff readily exhibited with other men left her much in awe of the one she had married. Whether hunting companions, scholars, or associates in some business venture or another, these male acquaintances of his gave every indication that they thoroughly enjoyed her husband’s ready wit and felt totally at ease to reciprocate with humorous quips or hearty banter.

  Jeff conveyed an unmistakable respect for ancients, some of whom had tutored him. They had amusing stories to tell of the youth who had been ever wont to try and soothe the temper of his older brother whenever that one got into a fray or to stand valiantly beside him and fight until they were both nigh bloody when the opposition outnumbered them and demanded physical confrontation. When the younger men congratulated him upon his recent marriage, they did so with great gusto, clapping him heartily on the back and ragging him unmercifully about his haste to see the deed done, as if he had been afraid some other swain would snatch his winsome bride out of his grasp. Still, they seemed genuinely pleased to both see and converse with him.

  Comely, well-bred young ladies displayed more reserve when greeting Jeff. Some eyed him surreptitiously with a measure of longing, while others, ignorant of his recent marriage, tossed fetching smiles his way and, with well practiced coyness, flicked long lashes as they peered at him askance. It seemed part of the rote of enlightenment that, after being so completely taken with the man’s presence and engrossed in guilefully flirting with him, these maidens would then glance at Raelynn in curious wonder. After Jeff’s introductions, some seemed genuinely astounded, a few even stricken by the news that he was now wed, affirming Raelynn’s growing suspicion that Nell was but one of many comely young maidens who had held aspirations of first gaining Jeffrey’s regard and then, some time later, of becoming his wife.

  Jeffrey had no pressing engagements or any particular destination in mind and was simply content to enjoy the balmy day and the presence of his young wife. With Raelynn’s arm tucked within his, he paused often to look at numerous displays in the shop windows they passed and to solicitously inquire if his bride was at all interested in taking a closer look at anything. At an import house, Raelynn momentarily scanned the bric-a-brac neatly exhibited behind the small, square panes of the window stretching across the front of the shop. Seeing nothing of real interest, she was about to turn aside when she caught sight of a brass-bound wooden coffer sitting atop a table inside the store. Unable to believe her possible good fortune, she leaned forward in rapt attention, oblivious to the fact that she pressed the brim of her flower and beribboned bonnet to the glass in her attempt to view the chest better. Similar pieces surrounded the piece, but the one upon which she had fixed her gaze was definitely the most notable of the lot. Even if she hadn’t recognized it as the coffer in which her father had once hidden a small cache of gold coins, Raelynn would have desired it for herself.

  “Do you see that box over there on the table, Jeffrey?” she asked, pointing toward the item.

  He leaned near to peer through the glass. “Aye, love. A handsome piece, it is. Would you like to have it?”

  “At one time, that coffer belonged to my father. Shortly before his arrest, he bade my mother to guard it carefully until he had need of its contents, but he died before any of the gold coins it contained could be of benefit to him. During the sea voyage, my mother began to fear that the box would be stolen by some of the other passengers and asked Cooper Frye to safeguard it for us. She assumed she could trust her brother, but sad to say, that was the last we saw of it. When my mother asked him to return the coffer, he gave the excuse that someone had stolen it. Even so, he continued to live like some high and mighty lordling aboard ship while we did without. We had hoped the coins would see us through our first year here, but they were obviously used by that greedy crook to fill his own belly and appease his thirst for strong drink. Seeing the box here in a shop so close to the waterfront causes me to renew my suspicions about Cooper Frye. I think he had it within his possession all the time and, as soon as he left the ship, sold it at the first shop he came to. If he didn’t, then certainly someone else did.”

  “There’s no reason why it can’t be yours again, my sweet,” Jeff assured her. “It may well be the only tangible memory you’ll have left of your father.”

  She squeezed his arm affectionately. “I would be pleased to have it, Jeffrey, truly I would.”

  “Then it shall be yours, my love.”

  Barely had they stepped into the cool, pleasant interior than a portly gentleman with thick, silver hair hurried from the back. “A fair good morning to you both,” he greeted with a pleasantly reserved smile. “Can I be of service? Or would you perhaps prefer to browse for a while?”

  “Actually we’re interested in that richly grained coffer you have on the table over there,” Jeff answered, indicating the box.

  “Lovely piece, isn’t it? Not overly ornate as some tend to be. English, of course. Probably made in the last century, the sort a nobleman might keep on hand for important papers and the like.”

  “When you purchased it, was there anything inside the coffer?” Raelynn asked softly.

  “Why, no, it was quite empty.” He looked at her quizzically. “Are you perhaps familiar with this particular piece, madam?”

  Slowly she reached out a hand and caressed the lid. “Very familiar. Once upon a time it belonged to my father.”

  “The coffer is so unique, I can’t imagine there being a duplicate here in Charleston,” Jeff offered in a museful tone.

  Raelynn swallowed with some difficulty and indicated an indentation in the brass covering a corner. “You see this? I was just five years old when this particular dent occurred. My father was holding me on his lap when my mother called me. I started to get down, but I slipped and nearly cracked my head against the raised hearth. My father caught me in the nick of time, but in doing so, he accidentally knocked the chest from the table with his elbow.
I was so proud that he had saved me from getting hurt that I boasted of his deed to my friends and showed them the ding that had resulted. They thought he might have gotten angry about it, but he overheard their comments and reassured them that what had really mattered most to him was the fact that his little darling hadn’t gotten hurt.” Hurriedly blinking against threatening tears, Raelynn sought to collect her poise, but her throat tightened to the degree that she was forced to fall silent.

  The proprietor of the shop discreetly busied himself rearranging small china figurines on a sideboard as Jeff laid an arm about his wife’s shoulders. She glanced up, her eyes shadowed by her painful loss, and found the emerald orbs tender with sympathy. She swallowed hard against the lump in her throat, accepted a clean handkerchief from him, and hurriedly dabbed at the moisture welling over her lashes. Regaining some measure of composure, she managed a faint smile.

  “I’m all right,” she reassured him softly. “Truly I am. Indeed, I have much to be thankful for.” Smiling into his eyes, she left no doubt that as her husband, she had every hope that he would prove her greatest blessing.

  Jeff lifted her hand to his lips and gently kissed her fingertips in silent tribute. Tucking her hand within his arm, he faced the shopkeeper, who, upon turning, offered a kindly smile to Raelynn before meeting her husband’s gaze.

  “Sir, I’d like to buy the coffer for my wife,” Jeffrey announced, “but I’d also be interested in hearing how you came by it. Do you have any memory of the one who sold it to you?”

  The man stroked a finger musefully across his chin as he tried to think back. “I believe that particular piece was brought in here by a man who had just arrived from England. He kept referring to himself as Ol’ Coop. He said the coffer belonged to his sister before her death and that he needed as much as I could spare to care for his niece. Am I to assume, young lady, that you’re his niece?”

  Raelynn had no wish to claim kinship to a man who had allowed her mother to die while he had selfishly indulged his own propensities to drink and gamble. “He said he was my uncle, sir, but I have reservations about the truth of that possibility. If anything, he was a despicable swindler who preyed on us for profit.”

  “Had I any notion the box was not rightly his at the time, madam, I would never have purchased it. I don’t normally barter with thieves, but when he said he had a niece to care for, I was in hopes he was a benevolent sort. Now I must believe that I was mistaken. I humbly beg your pardon.”

  “It has been my conviction, sir, that in his lifetime, Cooper Frye has managed to dupe a lot of people,” Raelynn stated softly. “You weren’t the first, nor do I think that you’ll be the last. My own mother was taken in by his claims of kinship and died as a result.”

  “I’m terribly sorry,” the proprietor murmured in solemn empathy.

  “My sorrow is fading with each passing day, sir. The recovery of my father’s coffer means a great deal to me. I’m thankful you bought it and that I saw it here in your shop. I’m even more grateful that my husband is willing to buy it for me. The box will become a treasured keepsake which we can hopefully hand down to our offspring in years to come. If you hadn’t purchased it, I’d still be wondering what happened to it.”

  “You’re as gracious as you are beautiful, madam,” the shopkeeper averred with a kindly smile. “And it is my wish that in the months and years to come the coffer will become an even greater asset as you store away memories of your father.”

  “THEY’RE COMIN’ OUT NOW,” OLNEY HYDE ANNOUNCED, leaning near the window of the hired livery in which he was now safely ensconced. Chortling softly, he gestured toward the couple who were just emerging from the shop across the street. “Look at that! Mr. Birmin’am’s done gone an’ bought yer liedy somethin’ else.”

  “Dummkopf! Get back before somevone sees yu!” Gustav Fridrich snapped irately. “Or haf yu forgotzen zo zoon zhat yu’re still vanted by zhe sheriff?”

  The curly headed blond grinned cockily as he considered the older man whose stocky frame dominated the opposite seat of the well-worn carriage. The German was nearing two score, stubborn to a fault, and lame now in one arm, which seemed forever destined to be kept bound up in a sling. He had thick, blunt features, a shining bald head, wiry brows, and pale-blue eyes, the coldness of which could almost freeze a man. At the moment, they were hot, angry, and glaring a hole through his younger companion.

  Shrugging off the harsh reminder with a casual twitch of his brawny shoulders, Olney relaxed back into his own seat. “Ain’t no use in frettin’ yerself ’cause o’ that lame-witted sheriff, Mr. Fridrich. He ain’t gonna find me. I knows this here town an’ all the areas ’round ’bout it like I do the back o’ me hand. I can come an’ go just as much as I please wit’out Sheriff Townsend bein’ none the wiser.”

  “It vill be zhe back of my hand zhat yu’ll be getting if yu cause me any more trouble,” Gustav barked. “I haven’t forgotzen zhat it vas yu who shot Herr Birmingham and made his pistol go off and shatter mien shoulder! Nor do I zhink zhe sheriff iz as stupid as yu make him out to be. Yu, however, may be lacking vhat he iz not. If not for zhat freight wagon and my timely intervention earlier today, Herr Birmingham vould haf caught yu and no doubt haf relished beating yu to a bloody pulp before personally escorting yu to zhe sheriff’s office.”

  Olney scoffed. “Maybe he would’ve, maybe not. Just ’cause Birmin’am’s close ta a head taller’n me don’t mean he can best me. I’da’ve hit him in the gut afore he could’ve even swung a punch. Anyways, I forgot ta tell ye thanks for askin’ the driver ta halt for me on the street like ye did.” Olney’s shoulders shook as he recalled his adversary’s frantic search after the livery had passed. “Yes, sir, we sure fooled that fancy man, we did, but ye know, Mr. Fridrich, ye ought not ta get inta such a temper o’er what’s already been done. It ain’t good for yer liver.”

  “Yu imbecile! Vhat do yu know about livers?”

  “Only what I’ve heard Doc Clarence tellin’ ye, but enough ta figure out yers is a-gonna turn green wit’ all that bile a-workin’ in it.”

  “Yu prattle inanely about matters beyond yur ken,” the German sneered, “and yu annoy me in zhe process.”

  “More’n Mr. Birmin’am?”

  Gustav’s lips curled in disdain as he swept his gaze out the window and fixed it glaringly upon the tall, well-garbed man presently strolling with his ravishingly beautiful bride on the boardwalk across the street. Noting the wooden box his handsome adversary was toting, Gustav grumbled ill-temperedly. “No telling vhat zhat fool has bought for his frau now. He’s too stupid to realize zhat he vill only spoil zhe girl buying her everyzhing she asks for. Vhen she iz mine again, she vill learn better.”

  Olney canted his head curiously. “Just how ye plannin’ on snatchin’ Mrs. Birmin’am back now that Frye’s plan ta sic Nell on Mr. Birmin’am ain’t panned out? Mrs. Birmin’am was supposed ta hate her husband after Nell accused him o’ bein’ the cause o’ her fat belly, ‘ceptin’ the redhead don’t look like she’s a-bearin’ any hard grudge against him, not the way she’s a-hangin’ onta his arm an’ a-smilin’ up at the bloke. Looks ta me like they’re gettin’ on real fine.”

  “Yu find Cooper Frye for me and tell him zhat he vill haf to come up vith a much better plan if he expects to live past zhe summer,” Gustav snarled. “Tell him zhat I vill even make it worth his vhile if zhis time he can actually be successful in making Frau Birmingham hate her husband.”

  Unable to comprehend the wisdom of such a plan, Olney waggled his head much like a child begrudging a parent’s dictates. “Why do ye need Frye’s help when ye’ve got me? I’m far better able ta do what that stinkin’ sot can do. From what I hears lately, he gots his head too much in the puke-can ta be o’ any use ta himself, much less ta ye. All that rot-gut whisky he guzzles sure ain’t helpin’ his liver none, that’s for damned sure. He’ll be dead afore the year is out the way he’s been swillin’ down that stuff lately.”

  “Livers
again! As if yu knew anyzhing about zhem.”

  “I’m askin’ ye, Mr. Fridrich, why do ye need that souse?” Olney insisted.

  “I vould hear vhat new ideas zhe Englishman has to offer me. If he believes he vill die if he disappoints me, he vill prove very resourceful, I zhink.”

  “A sizable reward would be incentive for anybody.” Olney met the pale blue eyes with a calculating glint in his own. “How much extra are ye willin’ ta pay ta see the deed done, anyway?”

  Gustav briefly pondered the younger man’s question. “A zhousand Yankee dollars.”

  Olney arched a sun-bleached brow in rampant surprise. “Ye really want the li’l wench that much? Even after the way she jeered at ye when ye were in pain?” At the uncomplimentary reminder, his employer raised his chin in growing vexation, prompting Olney to shake his curly head in bemusement. “Ye sure gots a forgivin’ heart, Mr. Fridrich, or ye’re after somethin’ more’n dumpin’ that li’l redhair on her arse an’ climbin’ on top.”

  “I vill not let anyvone take vhat iz mine and zhen enjoy zhe rest of zhe year unscathed! If I let Herr Birmingham or even Cooper Frye continue to live after thwarting me, zhen others vill get zhe idea zhey can turn a deaf ear to Gustav. My business affairs vould be in shambles once vord of my clemency got around.”

  “Ye’d actually give Cooper Frye as much as that for carryin’ out yer orders when he was the one what got ye in this mess in the first place? Did ye forget the man sold ye the girl after he’d already taken seven hundred fifty dollars from Birmin’am for her? Frye deliberately bilked ye. How can ye be so forgivin’?”

  “If he brings me zhe girl, zhen it vill be vorth it to me.” Gustav pursed his lips briefly in a facial shrug. “If he doesn’t, zhen zhe fish vill be feedin’ on his carcass ere the end of zhis year. Eventually I vill deal vith him over zhe matter of his cheating me, but it vill be in my own good time, vhen he ceases to be of any use to me . . . after I have zhe vench. If he kills Birmingham in his attempt to placate me . . .” Gustav lifted his thick shoulders in a gesture of casual indifference, “all zhe better. He vill hang for it; I vill not.”