Behind the closed door, they could hear the women talking, their voices raising and lowering, but she couldn't understand what they said.
"What was I thinking when I thought I could do this. They are still in there, she must hate it," Meg said her chest tightening with unshed tears.
"Stop, Meg, everything is fine," she said. "You're doubting yourself and you shouldn't be."
But she had every reason to question herself. Maybe her mother was right, her dreams were those of a child. Maybe she wasn't a good a seamstress.
The door opened and the young woman stepped out looking beautiful, the gown fitting her exactly as it should. Moving as quickly as the wedding gown would allow, she came over to Meg and hugged her tightly. "Thank you," she said, tearing up. "Somehow you saw what I wanted and created the dress of my dreams."
Meg grabbed her arms and pushed her back, staring at how everything fit. "Really, you're happy? This is what you wanted?"
"Yes," Betty said laughing. "The gown is perfect. Stylish with a hint of traditional and the beading. How many hours did it take you to sew all these tiny beads on the bodice? What can I say? It's just gorgeous."
Betty’s mother stood off to the side gazing at her daughter, with tears in her eyes. "Such a gorgeous gown. If we had traveled to Denver, we would not have found anything near as beautiful."
Stunned, Meg held her hands up to her face and shook her head. "You ladies don't know how afraid I was you wouldn't like it."
Kneeling, she checked the hem. "What shoes are you going to wear? We will need to check the length with the heels."
The women all looked at her and laughed and the bride's mother sighed. "Meg Scott, you are very detailed seamstress. Once the ladies in town see Betty’s dress, you're going to be busy designing lots of clothes."
She glanced up at the woman sheepishly. "Really?"
"Yes, in fact, I would like to order a gown for myself for the wedding. After seeing my daughter’s, I think the mother of the bride deserves a new dress as well."
Later, when Alice and Meg walked out of the home, Meg glanced at Martin’s grandmother, shaking her head. "Thank you, you were right. I can open a ladies’ shop here in Pagosa Springs where I create dresses for the women. Only now that I've been accepted to that school, I don't know what to do."
"Follow your heart, Meg,” Alice said. "Always follow your heart."
Chapter 26
Sunday evening, Martin went in to spend time with his grandfather like he'd been doing every day since the man had taken ill. When he walked in, his grandfather's eyes were half closed, his breathing heavy. "Grandpa?"
The older man jerked awake. “Martin, I'm so glad you came home."
What was he saying? Martin had been home for weeks. Had he forgotten? Fear spiraled through Martin as he stared at the man he loved, knowing he was growing weaker.
"Me too, Grandfather. I regret not coming back sooner. It's great to be home."
His grandfather gave a weak smile. "Years ago, your grandmother didn't want to move out to that old cabin with me. Once she came here, she never went back. A good woman, she's been a blessing to stay by my side."
"Oh, I think she kind of likes you, Grandpa." The man's chest rose and fell as he struggled to breathe. Martin had a bad feeling.
The older man sighed. "I'm not going to be here in this world for long."
Panic gripped Martin, twisting his stomach, and though he tried to say comforting words, he feared the man knew the truth. "Stop saying that. You're going to get better. Whatever this is has weakened you, but you're going to get stronger."
"Son, I wish that were so, but every day my body grows weaker. The Lord is calling me home. So, listen to me," he said gasping, yet his tone demanded attention, "there are things I need to say to you."
Martin felt his heart slam in his chest. This couldn't be happening. They had just reconnected, and he didn't want to say goodbye to this man he loved so very much. The man he’d admired most in his life.
"First off, promise me you'll make certain your grandmother is taken care of. With over fifty years with that woman, she is my main concern. Don't leave her out here all alone on this ranch. If you decide this life is not for you, that's fine, but move your grandmother to town or with you."
Recognizing his grandfather needed to know before he left everything would be all right, he listened intently to his wishes.
"Yes, sir, you know I will," he said, his chest aching with hurt. For twenty-five years, this man had always been there and now he was dying.
"Second, you're a grown man with a beautiful wife, but if you don't love ranching or Elk Ridge, sell it. Don't feel an obligation to hang onto my dream. Whatever you do in life, I want you to be happy."
"Yes, Grandfather," Martin said, trying to hold back the tears that threatened to fall. These were his last minutes, possibly hours with this man.
"You and Meg could make this your home, but first you two need to decide if you're going to stay together. Make the decision and move on and if that means leaving Elk Ridge, it's all right."
"Grandpa, I think I've fallen in love with her and if I had my way, we'd remain married. But I don't know how she feels. She still wants to go to New York."
The older man took his hand in his and squeezed.
"Just keep showing her you care. She's a smart woman. She'll figure things out in due time."
The old man coughed, and the blood seemed to drain from his face, leaving him pale. Fear filled Martin.
"One last thing. There's a safe hidden in the wall behind that picture. The combination is our wedding date. Inside, you'll find the deed to the ranch, our marriage license, and a quarter million dollars. Half is yours, half is your grandmother’s. Make me proud in how you spend that money."
Shock radiated through Martin, but he didn't want the damn cash.
"Grandfather," he said stunned, knowing suddenly there wasn't a thing he needed or wanted except for the man not to leave. "I'd rather you stayed here with me. Thank you, I love you."
"Son, I have no choice. I love you too. Now get your grandmother," he said, his voice growing weaker. "I want to say goodbye to my love."
Warren ran to the door. "Grandmother."
Meg glanced up from her needlepoint, her eyes large. Slowly she put her needlework down and moved toward him, her eyes never leaving his while she hurried into the room and knelt by the bed. "Ira, don't leave me."
As his grandmother leaned over his grandfather, he pulled her lips to his, and kissed her one last time. “Alice, it's my time. Our boy is going to make certain you're all right. Since that day at the train station where I first laid eyes on you, you've been my love, my sweetheart"
Crawling in beside her husband, Alice held Ira, telling him how much she loved him and what a wonderful life they had together. Holding him until he was gone.
Meg slipped her arms around Martin as they stood in the doorway and watched as his grandfather slowly departed this world, leaving an empty void.
When he took his last breath, Martin laid his head on Meg’s shoulder as his heart broke and tears flowed. The one man in life he trusted and looked up to was no more. The one man whose advice he understood and agreed with could help him no more.
Chapter 27
Meg couldn't believe his grandfather was gone. It happened so quickly, so suddenly, and she couldn't imagine him dying with only Alice here alone. Thank goodness they had been with her when he went.
The funeral had been held two days later, but the burial of his body would have to wait until spring.
The morgue in Pagosa Springs could hold his remains in a cold underground cellar until the ground was no longer frozen.
The ride home from the church had been quiet with his grandmother sitting stoically in between them.
"Over fifty years with that man," she said softly. "How am I going to live without him?"
"It's not going to be easy," Meg said, wishing with all her might if she ever loved anyone it wo
uld be how Martin’s grandparents loved. Gazing at her husband who focused on driving the team and getting them home, she wondered if he could ever love her like his grandfather adored his grandmother.
"As much as I want you two to stay at the ranch, I'll be all right if you need to return to Denver,” she said.
"No, we're not going anywhere," Meg told her, thinking she would not let Martin go off and leave Alice. Not now. Maybe not ever.
Martin glanced at his grandmother. "We're not leaving."
"Thank you," she said. "Your grandfather told me he told you everything, Martin.”
What had his grandfather revealed to Martin? Not that it mattered. It was their business, not hers, but she was curious.
"Yes, he made his wishes known to me," he said with a sigh. "But I still didn't believe he was really dying. What if we hadn't come? What if I hadn't married Meg and decided I'd had enough of my father's manipulating?"
One good thing had come from their marriage. She stole a look at her husband. She wished more would come from this union but didn't know how to tell him.
His grandmother reached over and patted his arm. "Things happen for a reason." She glanced between the two of them. "I realize you two newlyweds are still trying to figure things out, but maybe God had a hand in you falling out of that window and Martin catching you, Meg. Could the two of you be meant to be married and for you to come here?"
He gave her a quick glance, his eyes searing her as she stared at him. A spiral of warmth skittered up her spine, leaving her hungry for more. Were they being foolish not to recognize their marriage was real?
They pulled in front of the house and Martin halted the horses, tying the reins around the brake. He jumped out of the wagon, and then turned to help his grandmother alight.
"This old woman has said too much already and now if you'll excuse me, I think I want to be alone for a while. Without your grandfather by my side, sleeping is difficult, and I need some time to adjust to my new life."
At the sadness in the older woman's voice, Meg felt her heart clinch in pain. How did you get over losing the love of your life?
"Good night, Grandmother," Martin said, kissing her on the cheek as she hurried toward the house.
Looking up at Meg, tears filled his eyes as he wrapped his hands around her waist and placed her on the ground next to him.
"Do things happen for a reason?" Meg asked. "Are we meant to be married?"
Silence from Martin and then she noticed the tears running down his cheeks and her heart squeezed her chest splintering in two.
"How do I know? Right now, I don't understand anything, except the man who I admired the most in this life is gone."
A pang of hurt gripped her chest as she thought of the pain her husband was feeling. Her hand reached out and lifted his face as she raised his head and looked deeply into his sapphire eyes.
The womanizer, the tycoon’s son, the man who had teased her was gone and in his place was a hurting soul that she cared so much about. A man she was falling in love with.
Timidly, she lifted her mouth to his, trying to express her sympathy to him. An ache built inside her as she tried to show him she was concerned about his feelings.
His hands grabbed her face as he held onto her, moving his lips over hers like a starving man. Desire surged through Meg at the desperate kiss, her legs trembling. Finally they broke apart, their breathing ragged as they stood in the yard, their foreheads touching.
“Meg,” he said breathlessly.
With a woman's intuition she never knew she possessed, she understood what her husband needed. Without a doubt, she realized what she must do. And she wanted him as badly as he craved her.
"Come to bed, Martin. Come to bed and let me heal your sorrow."
Chapter 28
Meg led him up the stairs to their room, knowing her man grieved for his grandfather. In their bedroom, she unbuttoned his shirt and then tossed it over a chair in the corner, then she turned and let him unbutton her dress and slipped it down her body, stepping out of the muslin and laying it on top of his shirt. When she turned to face him, she removed her shift and turned for him to undo the stays on her corset.
Was joining with her husband a mistake or the right decision? All she knew was that he needed her tonight. Needed her to comfort him and soothe his pain.
With a groan, he kissed her back trailing his tongue down to her pantaloons. His fingers slipped beneath the material and he pulled them down and she stepped out of her drawers. Uncertainty and nerves had her trembling as she turned to face him.
“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered taking her into his arms, his mouth layering over hers with a kiss that promised so much more. Though he still wore his long johns, she felt his erection stiffen and grow. He raised his head and their eyes met in the darkness, and a shiver passed through her at the desire that radiated from his gaze.
Quickly he shed his long johns pushing them to the floor as he walked her backward to the bed they shared, but never like what she knew was about to transpire.
She wanted him as much, if not more, than the passion she saw reflected in his eyes.
Trembling with anticipation, she watched as his mouth descended, covering her lips in a kiss that was more savage than gentle. He stretched his body full length against her, letting her feel every hard muscle. His hands molded her soft curves against his muscular frame until they were meshed together, muscled thigh up to hardened chest. His mouth caressed hers, coaxed her until she relaxed, her arms slowly winding about him. Wanting him closer.
She reveled under the assault of his lips. Tonight, this was what she wanted. The death of his grandfather made life seem shorter, less certain, and her love for Martin more certain. She pulled him to her tighter as if to protect him, shield him, from the grief that consumed him.
His tongue entered her mouth, sweeping the inside of her lips, leaving her gasping and needy. She pressed her body against his, seeking the hardened flesh of him between her thighs, yearning only to satiate the desire Martin created within her.
As she lay beneath Martin in their bed, a sense of rightness overwhelmed her.
This was where she belonged, where she was meant to be. Were her dreams of New York just a young girl’s fantasy?
His hungry lips lured her, pervading her body with delight until she no longer heard the voice of reason inside her head. She only wanted this mind-numbing satisfaction to possess her, fill her, until her soul was brimming with Martin. For he seemed to be inciting a storm of sensation in her body.
His mouth trailed a string of kisses down her cheek, under her chin, along her neck to her shoulder. Her breathing sounded raspy and harsh in her ears, and she gasped at each new sensation.
“Oh, Meg, heal me. Make me feel whole again,” he whispered against her neck.
She trembled, his words thrilling her. He continued his path down her neck to the top of her shoulder, his tongue lingering in the sensitive curve of her nape. His lips and warm breath sent shudders rippling through her.
He raised his head and gazed into her eyes, his look scorching her with its intensity. She watched as he lowered his mouth toward her. Eagerly, she rose to meet him.
Slanting his lips across her mouth, he kissed her deeply and thoroughly as if to mark her as his own. Meg wanted to cry out her response, but she needed him so desperately that she clung to him.
There was no turning back. No second thoughts, nothing but a sweet sensation that this was right. This moment in time belonged to the two of them. They were meant to be together and nothing, not even death, could keep them apart.
Greedily, he placed his lips on her breast, his tongue laving attention on her nipple. She arched her back, giving him more access to her, her hands clutching his hair. She was insistent and caressing all at the same time, and she yearned for more of Martin.
His body molded to the contours of her skin, and she luxuriated in the feel of his muscular thighs and hard chest, firm and solid, against her
. For every place their skin touched, she rejoiced in the way his flesh seemed to warm her with a heat that burned from within.
His hand skimmed down her rib cage, over her stomach, lower, until he felt her wiry curls against his fingertips. Searching and finding her very center, he delved his fingers into her hot, moist core.
This was nothing like she expected. Nothing like her young woman’s mind conjured. This was much better.
Gently, he teased and stroked the tender petals as Meg gripped the tangled sheets, clutching them in her fists. Never had she experienced the frenzied passion that Martin incited within her. Just the touch of his hand to her velvety folds left her hungry and shivering with need. She glanced up at him in the darkness and stared into his eyes as she cried out, disintegrating beneath his hand, quivering her release.
She lay spent, her heart still racing, her breathing jagged as she clung to Martin, his broad shoulders hovering above her.
What had just happened? What had her husband done to her?
He kissed her temple, her eyelids, and her nose. She could feel him rigid and hard against her leg, waiting patiently for her to catch her breath.
She knew this was not the end. But what came next?
Martin made her feel, made her hunger for desire, and that knowledge increased her passion. She wanted to return the same feelings to him that he was giving to her. She wanted to know that he hungered for her as she did for him.
“Meg,” he whispered huskily in the dark. “I need you. Love me.”
She whimpered at his words, the thought of his needing her astonishing. Did he mean physically or emotionally? Or both?
He bent his head and suckled her breast, her nipple hardening into a pointed kernel. With trepidation, she reached down until she located the proof of his desire between his legs. She touched him, wrapped her fingers around his shaft, and lovingly stroked him. She gazed into his passion-filled sapphire eyes, his face a grimace of pleasure and pain.
The Debutante's Scandal: Western Historical Romance (Debutantes of Durango Book 4) Page 9