by Kit Morgan
“Er … ah …” The preacher took a moment to regain his composure. “By-the-power-invested-in-me-by-Almighty-God-and-the-Washington-Territory-I-now-declare-you-man-and-wife-you-may-kiss-the-bride!”
Ebba sucked in a breath, about to sneeze again, when Daniel reached up and pinched her nose, cutting it short. He then gave her a quick kiss and let her go.
As the cheers began, she stumbled, her sneezing picking up again with a vengeance. Daniel no sooner pulled her against him than Charity came running down the aisle, a cup of tea in her hands. “Quick, drink this!”
Tears were streaming down Ebba’s face as she did her best to choke back a sob. But she could still see Nellie with that knowing smirk on her face, while the rest of the townsfolk watched with a combination of sympathy and shock. There were also a few looks of utter disgust, and deep down she knew they weren’t because of her sneezing fit. If only she knew what did cause them.
“There now, sweetie,” Daniel whispered against her hair. “Drink that tea down.”
She took a sip, then another. It was hard to breathe but the hot brew helped. Since her voice would betray her at this point, she didn’t say anything. Nor did she protest when Daniel picked her up in his arms and carried her back to the house. A few clapped as they passed while the rest murmured congratulations.
With one exception. Nellie Davis could be heard harrumphing, “Well, we’ll see how long this marriage lasts.”
Fresh tears stung Ebba’s eyes. Why would Nellie say such a thing?
* * *
“There now, sweetie,” Daniel said as he set her on the bed in her room. Their room now, she realized. “Ya’ll be all right. I’ll have Charity bring up another cup of tea.”
Ebba tried to hold the tears back but failed. “I’m so sorry!” she sobbed. “I ruined our wedding!”
Daniel, his arms still around her, chuckled. “Now, I wouldn’t say that.”
She sniffed and wiped her eyes with the back of one hand. “Well, I certainly would … achoo! … oh drat!”
“Ya go ahead and sneeze your pretty little head off if’n ya wanna. I don’t mind.”
She wiped at her face again. The handkerchief the woman had given her earlier was soaked through. “I mind.”
“‘Course ya do. You’re a woman. Womenfolk are always fussin’ about this sort of thing. Menfolk, not so much. We know there’s some things that cain’t be helped.”
Ebba swallowed hard. “Well, it’s nice …” She sniffed back more tears. “… to know that you don’t mind. But to everyone else, I’m a … ah … achoo!” She blew her nose. “A laughingstock!”
Daniel reached up and brushed some hair off her face. “Yer mighty pretty today, did ya know that?”
Ebba’s mouth dropped open. “How can you say that?” she asked, her voice cracking. “I’m a mess! A horrible mess!”
“Nah,” he said gently and cupped her face with one hand. “Yer my wife.” And he just as gently, kissed her.
Miracle of miracles, she didn’t sneeze. Instead, she let the sensations that simple kiss evoked engulf her. Warmth crept up her spine as his lips melded against hers. One of his arms locked around her waist, while the hand that cupped her face slid to the back of her neck. He deepened the kiss, and she moaned.
Daniel slowly lifted his face from hers. “There now,” he whispered against her lips. “That seems to work.”
“Wha?” she managed. She couldn’t move – her limbs felt like jelly.
“Ya don’t sneeze when I kiss ya,” he said matter-of-factly. “I kinda like that.”
She closed her eyes, unable to keep them open. “Oh.”
Daniel pulled her closer and tucked her head under his chin. “I think I might be what cures ya, sweetie. Ain’t that somethin’?”
Ebba felt as if she was about to fall into a deep sleep. That Daniel rubbed his hand up and down her back was part of that, and it felt wonderful.
He kissed her hair. “We’re gonna be just fine, ya and me,” he whispered before gently pulling away to look at her. “Hello, Mrs. Weaver. How ya feelin’?”
Ebba’s mouth moved, but nothing came out.
Daniel cupped her face again, lowered his lips to hers and ran his tongue over them as he tightened his arms again.
Her breathing picked up. Where her ailment had stopped, something had started in its place. What it was, she wasn’t sure, but it was definitely gaining momentum. The room was growing hot, as were a few other things, when Daniel’s tongue delved into her mouth and began to explore. It was all she could do to stay on the bed. If he hadn’t been holding her, she’d slide onto the floor in a heap!
The kiss became more demanding and Ebba didn’t know what to do. So she kissed him back – or at least hoped she did. Having never been kissed before, she had to improvise, and she was still in a state of shock besides. Not just because he was kissing her, but because she hadn’t sneezed once since he’d started. What if kissing kept her from sneezing? Wait – was that what he’d been talking about a moment ago?
Ebba’s eyes sprang open at the thought. But she was careful to not move otherwise as Daniel continued to administer the cure to everything that ailed her.
* * *
After an hour of Daniel’s miracle elixir – kissing Ebba senseless – the newlywed couple came downstairs. Her face washed and her veil straightened, Ebba strode into the parlor on her husband’s arm feeling like a new woman. The man was a miracle. Her sneezing had completely stopped, her eyes were dry, the scratch in her throat was gone. Even her voice was fine. All that from kissing? How was she ever going to explain this?
“Are you feeling better, dear?” Leona asked. “You look better.”
“I’m much better, thank you,” Ebba said.
“She’ll be fine,” Daniel informed them. “I took care of her.”
Nellie, sitting in a chair near the fireplace, glanced at the ceiling before giving them a knowing look. “I’ll just bet you did.”
Ebba saw Daniel’s eyebrows twitch at the remark, but he remained silent.
“Would you like some supper?” Leona asked Daniel. “Your mother is outside serving everyone. Let me go fetch the two of you a plate, shall I?”
“No, you sit with my wife, Mrs. Riley,” Daniel instructed. “I’ll go get Ebba something to eat.”
“Why, that’s very kind of you! Don’t mind if I do.” Leona took Ebba by the hand and led her to the settee. “Come, dear, sit next to me and we’ll make sure that sneezing of yours doesn’t get started again.”
“Are you going to make her some tea?” someone across the room asked.
Ebba and Daniel both looked to see who it was. A thin young woman stood in the doorway to the hall. She had brown hair and amber eyes, almost like a cat’s. “Hello,” Ebba said. “I don’t believe we’ve met.”
The woman walked over and held out her hand. “I’m Bernice Johnson. My husband Warren is outside helping with supper.”
“Ya mean he’s outside helpin’ with the pig, don’t ya?” Daniel asked.
Bernice smiled. “Yes, he is. It’s wonderful too.”
“You’ve already eaten?” Ebba asked in surprise. She glanced at Leona sitting next to her.
“Yes, most of us have. You two were upstairs for … quite a while.”
“Hmph,” Nellie added.
Ebba did her best to ignore her. “How long were we up there?” she asked Daniel, who could only shrug.
“It doesn’t matter, dear,” said Leona. “What does is that you’re feeling better now.”
Daniel was still hovering near the door to the hallway, as if afraid to leave her. The thought warmed Ebba’s heart and she felt herself relax. “All I need now is a bite to eat,” she hinted, smiling at him.
“Oh! Right – I’ll go fetch that plate.” He disappeared in a hurry.
Nellie sat and shook her head in disgust.
“What?” Ebba asked, unable to take it anymore.
Nellie slowly faced her. “What?”
/>
It was all Ebba could do not to roll her eyes. Maybe this wasn’t the best time to say anything. “Nothing.” She turned her attention back to Bernice. “Was it you that handed me a handkerchief earlier?”
“Yes, it was.” Bernice sat in the chair next to Nellie’s. “I hope it helped.”
“More than you know,” Ebba said. “I hope I can have it washed for you before you leave tomorrow.”
Bernice smiled and shook her head. “Keep it. You can save it as a memento of your wedding day.”
Nellie laughed.
Ebba forced herself to stay civil. Thankfully, Leona decided to take it upon herself to deal with Nellie. “You’re taking far too much pleasure in this poor child’s misery, Nellie Davis! Just what has gotten into you these days?”
Nellie stood. “A better question is, why hasn’t anything gotten through to you, Leona?” She cast a quick glance at Ebba. “Or haven’t you heard?”
“Heard what?” Leona shot back, clearly flustered.
Nellie smiled like a cat that had just eaten a canary. “Well, if you haven’t heard by now, there’s no sense telling you.”
Leona stood. “Reverting to your old ways, I see,” she muttered, then louder: “Fine, don’t tell me – I don’t want to know.” She turned to Bernice. “Go check on what’s keeping Daniel, will you, dear?”
“I’ll do it,” Nellie volunteered. “Besides, I’m sure he’s looking forward to getting his wife to himself again.” She left the room without another word.
Ebba let out the breath she’d been holding. “That woman is impossible.”
“Don’t we know it?” Bernice replied. “And to think she was doing so well, too.”
“She was?”
“She’s a hard one to get along with, that Nellie,” Leona said. “Always has been.”
“Maybe she’s just having a bad day?” Bernice suggested.
“No, she’s got ahold of something, I can tell,” said Leona.
Ebba fought against a shudder. That something obviously had to do with her. She just wished she knew what.
Chapter 16
“So …” Stanley Oliver, Nowhere’s blacksmith, elbowed Daniel in the ribs. “How was she?”
“Stanley!” Lucien Miller, the new banker in town, chastised. “Gentlemen do not ask such things of other gentlemen.”
“Heck, Mr. Miller,” Stanley said. “Everyone ‘round here knows I ain’t no gentleman like yerself. And neither’s Daniel.” He turned to Daniel again. “So?”
Daniel’s face twisted in confusion. “What in Sam Hill are ya talkin’ ‘bout, Stanley?”
Stanley’s eyes darted around before he leaned toward him. “Now doggone it, Daniel, ya gotta tell me. Yer wife won’t care if’n I know. Heck, who knows how many fellers she’s been with afore now.”
Daniel almost dropped the plate in his hand. “What did you say?”
“YaknowhatImean. Truth is, I cain’t hardly believe ya married her. I never would. Did ya feel sorry for her or somethin’?”
Daniel handed the plate to Lucien, who took it without question. “What are ya sayin’, Stanley? And choose yer words carefully.”
Stanley laughed. “C’mon, Danny boy – ain’t a man in town that ain’t heard about yer wife!”
Lucien cleared his throat. Daniel spun on him. “What have they heard?”
“I have heard nothing worth taking stock in, Mr. Weaver.”
He spun back to Stanley, grabbed him by his shirt collar and got right in his face. “What have ya heard?” he snarled.
Stanley quickly took stock and saw two of Daniel’s brothers within shouting distance. One Weaver was bad enough, but three was a death sentence. “Er … ya know … that she’s a … a …”
Daniel gave him a good shake. “A what?”
“Dagnabit it, yer gonna ruin my best shirt!”
“A what?” Daniel repeated and shook him again.
Stanley’s voice dropped to a whisper. “A whore.”
Lucien groaned and shook his head.
Daniel’s eyes popped. “What … did … you … say?”
“Ya heard me – heck, it’s all over town –” Stanley didn’t get to finish – not after Daniel’s fist connected squarely with his jaw. The blacksmith hit the ground hard, and didn’t even have a chance to get his hands up before Daniel landed on him and let his fists fly.
Lucien, having been in town long enough to witness Weavers in action (and hear tales of earlier exploits), wisely backed away. As Daniel pummeled away and Stanley began to return fire, he studied the fried chicken on the plate, took a bite and continued to watch, careful not to get his suit dusty. He didn’t want to have to clean it.
“What in tarnation’s goin’ on here?” Arlan roared as he came up beside him.
Lucien swallowed. “Mr. Oliver suggested that Daniel’s new bride has an unsavory past. Your brother … took umbrage.”
“Well, I don’t rightly know what an umberge is, but I figger it cain’t be good,” Arlan replied. “If it was any other day, I’d let ‘em have at it, but Ma won’t take kindly to Daniel ruinin’ his good clothes.” He stepped forward, grabbed Daniel by the shirt collar and yanked him to his feet. Daniel was spitting mad, his arms still swinging, but Arlan shoved him to the side, grabbed Stanley in the same manner and none too gently hauled him up as well. “What’s the matter with ya two idjits? Fightin’ durin’ a weddin’ supper?!”
“He called my wife a whore,” Daniel said through clenched teeth.
Arlan’s eyes narrowed to slits. “He did what?”
Stanley’s, on the other hand, turned to platters. “Uh-oh …”
Arlan’s fist connected with Stanley’s jaw, and he dropped like a stone. That done, Arlan returned his attention to Daniel. “Now what started all this?”
“It’s like I said! That low-down varmint Stanley called Ebba a whore!”
Arlan glanced at Lucien who nodded. “What the … why in tarnation would he do such a thing?”
Lucien took another bite of chicken, turned and began to edge away, but was stopped forcibly by Arlan’s hand on his collar. “Not so fast. Tell me what ya know.”
The young banker sighed and turned around, cringing against any potential fists. “It’s a rumor around town, Arlan. I don’t know where it started – and frankly, I didn’t believe a word of it. Just for the record.”
Arlan studied him. Lucien Miller was new in town – he’d arrived the previous autumn, a handsome single man with dark hair and grey eyes. Him being a banker made him suspect to the Weavers, who’d never believed in leaving their money in somebody else’s keeping. But he had a reputation for being honest as the day was long. “A rumor, huh?”
“I’m afraid so. I’m sure it’s without any basis in fact –”
“So am I!” Daniel declared. “And I’ll lick anyone that says otherwise!”
“Calm down, Daniel – I’m sure it ain’t the case. But I’d hate for Ebba to have to hear any of this. Might hurt her feelings.” Arlan put his hands on his hips as Stanley moaned, and looked around at the crowd that had gathered. “Anyone else heard someone spreadin’ dirt about my sister-in-law’s virtue?”
Everyone from Nowhere mumbled something in the affirmative.
“Well, I’m tellin’ ya right now it ain’t true, and anyone who says it is’ll answer to me and my brothers. And when I find out who started it, that feller’s gonna wish he hain’t.”
Stanley started trying to sit up.
“Stay down, Stanley,” Arlan warned. “I won’t hit ya again, but Daniel might.”
“Daniel will,” Daniel corrected.
Stanley lay down again.
“All right,” Arlan declared. “Show’s over. Y’all go back to whatever you were doin’. And someone get the doc to patch up Stanley – and make sure he don’t open his mouth again.”
Daniel glared at his brother. “I still wanna hit him.”
“I think you’ve done enough for one day. It’s a good thing Ma w
ent into the house or ya’d be getting’ a lickin’ of yer own. Leave him be and go do … whatever ya were you doin’ out here.”
“Fetchin’ Ebba a plate.”
Lucien looked guiltily at the plate in his hand. “Oh dear …”
Daniel waved him off. “Don’t worry none, Luce. I’ll fix her another.”
Lucien smiled. “Thank you, Daniel. Most generous of you.” He nodded farewell and walked away. Arlan gave his brother one last warning glare and did the same.
Daniel sighed, took a few steps after him, then quickly glanced around before kicking Stanley Oliver in the ribs. Whistling, he stuck his hands in his pockets and went to fetch his bride some food.
* * *
Ebba was content to stay indoors for now. She knew if she stayed outside for too long, her sneezing would start again and … well, she certainly didn’t mind Ma’s cures (or Daniel’s cure, for that matter), but it was better not to deal with the malady at all. Even aside from the physical toll, there was also her embarrassment to think of.
How she would survive being a farmer’s wife was beyond her at this point – her wedding ceremony was proof enough of that. If deep kisses, whiskey and chamomile tea were her only solace, she might have a really fun time, but she wasn’t going to be much help to the rest of the Weavers. She grimaced at the thought and sliced up another pie.
“Ebba!” Ma said as she entered the kitchen. “What are you doing that for? You’re not supposed to be working – you’re the bride!”
Ebba shrugged. “I just needed something to do,” she said lamely.
“Nonsense, you have plenty to do – being with your husband, mingling with your guests …”
“Ma,” Ebba sighed, “we both know they’re your guests, not mine. If I go outside I’m going to have another sneezing fit and I just don’t need that. Neither does anyone else, for that matter.”
Ma took the knife from her hand, gently pushed her out of the way and finished slicing the pie. “We’ll find a remedy that works, mark my words. You might suffer a little now, but you won’t later.”