“As much as I out and out love to hear these words, darlin’, I still do reserve the right to court you profusely, kiss your hand repeatedly, and spoil your lovely socks off,” he declared, accenting his words with a stately bow that touched Lorelei’s heart.
Making good on this promise, Jacob soon escorted Lorelei back to his ranch house, a modest but attractive two-story home with ivory walls, a crystalline bay window and a columned front porch graced by a homey old pair of rickety wood rocking chairs.
“I am fully aware, Lorelei, that a fine young woman such as yourself might have just a few reservations about bein’ alone with a man inside his house, and without a chaperone,” he told her, adding as he made a broad gesture in the direction of the rocking chairs, “so I thought I’d serve us supper outside.”
Soon the couple shared a fine country dinner in the waning sunlight that soon gave way to sunset; their heads tilted together as they feasted on fried chicken, hominy and grits, buttered mashed potatoes, as well as a luscious bowl of homemade strawberry ice cream served with sprinkles and a cherry on top, as per Lorelei’s request.
“Delicious!” The joyful lady smacked her lips, adding as she arched her eyebrows inquisitively in the direction of her host, “How did you learn to cook this good, Jacob?”
Her host smiled.
“My ma,” he told her, tone soft and wistful. “Back a few years ago when I first bought this place, my parents used to visit every Saturday night. Ma and I would cook up supper, and we’d always follow up our meal with some ice cream and a good bit of Bible study.”
Lorelei nodded.
“Sounds wonderful,” she praised, adding as she took another hearty bite of homemade ice cream, “do your folks still live around these parts?”
Jacob shook his head.
“Actually, Lorelei, they don’t live at all,” he revealed, adding with a deep sigh, “one evening, as they were coming home from my place, they got caught up in a terrible storm. The rain and the wind battered their wagon, which eventually toppled over into a creek.” He paused here, adding in a trembling voice, “Ma and Pa were both killed in the accident.”
Setting aside the rose print dish that—or so Lorelei guessed—had once been a part of his mother’s china collection, Lorelei wrapped her arms around Jacob’s muscled shoulders and enshrouded him in a comforting hug.
“Oh, Jacob,” she whispered, pressing her soft pink lips against his carved cheek as she offered, “I am so sorry to hear this.”
Jacob said nothing for a moment, just graced his lady with an affirming squeeze as he clutched her arms and rested his head in the crook of her neck.
“Thank you, darlin’,” he said finally, cuddling close and sweet to his loving guest as he continued, “I miss my ma and pa so much, but I never did allow myself to cry.” He paused, adding as he shook his head, “Cowboys don’t cry, Lorelei. They drown their sorrows in whiskey and women, so that is exactly what I did. In trying to mourn my parents and family in my own special way, I have done things that have disgraced Ma and Pa—that have besmirched and spoiled my family name.”
Lorelei shook her head.
“You have done wrong, Jacob, but just remember that the damage here is far from irreversible,” she reminded him, continuing in a comforting tone, “you have not killed anyone. You have not forced yourself on any woman. You do show sorrow and repentance for your misdeeds, and the good Lord is sure to forgive you.”
Jacob smiled.
“Well, I do believe the good Lord already has forgiven me to send me an angel like you,” he cooed, pressing his full soft lips against her fair skinned cheek. “I wonder, though, as to whether Lillibet and John Townsend can find it in their hearts to forgive my grave trespass against their marriage.”
Lorelei bit her lip.
“As far as I have heard, Jacob, Lorelei and John have no plans to divorce. So if John is willing to forgive his wife, then hopefully he will extend the same forgiveness to you,” she offered, adding through gritted teeth, “in lieu of this forgiveness, he just might extend his fist instead, to hit you upside your noggin!”
Jacob laughed, letting loose with a chortle that seemed to release with it months’ worth of sadness and tension.
“Woman, you’re a blessin’,” he praised her, adding as he pulled her closer to him, “And while I do enjoy talkin’ to you, I do believe I’d far rather kiss you, instead.” He paused here, adding as he swept his hat from his head in a single courtly flourish, “With your kind permission ma’am, of course.”
In lieu of a verbal response, a blushing Lorelei turned full in her chair to face the man of her heart, staring deep into his eyes with a gentle smile as she nodded her assent.
Without further hesitation, Jacob leaned forward and covered her lips with his, rubbing his full moist mouth against hers as they lost themselves in the tender throes of a sweet romantic advance.
Leaning into his kiss, Lorelei inhaled her man’s appealing musky scent as she ran her fingers through the silky strands of his soft, honey blond hair.
She purred contented against his sumptuous lips as he continued to ply her with the sweetest, truest kiss; all the while massaging her neck and shoulders as the tendrils of his luxurious hair fell soft against her chest.
Finally, the couple broke their kiss, their hands clasping tight between them as they continued to stare deep into one another’s eyes.
“You, Miss Lorelei, are an amazing woman,” Jake praised her, adding as he squeezed her fingers between his, “in the brief time that I have known you, dear lady, you already have saved me and changed my life. And I cannot wait to see what the future brings.”
Lorelei smiled.
“Only time will tell, just what the future promises for us—and, furthermore, just what the Lord has in store for our relationship,” she told him, adding as she graced him with a shy smile, “For the immediate future, however, I was wondering if you still would like to escort me to the church dance next week?”
Jake blinked.
“Well, certainly miss,” he agreed, adding as he inclined his head sharply in her direction, “only I thought that you had no interest in accompanying me to the dance.”
Lorelei shrugged, hoisting her chin upward to prideful effect as she announced, “A woman always has the prerogative to change her mind. And today, dear Jake, you have pert near changed mine.”
*****
“Criminy! What am I doing?”
The eternal embodiment of the feminine tomboy, Lorelei never minded the perpetual wearing of riding or walking skirts—but dancing skirts?
“This courtin’ business is no easy feat,” she rolled her eyes heavenward, inhaling sharp as her best friend Norma mummified her within the confines of a strangulating corset.
She did admit that she did take quite the liking to the ebullient azure ball gown that she had purchased at a local dressmaker shop; a lush satin effort with a fine ruffled bodice, wide sleeves that boasted additional ruffles as well as pure lace trim, and a smooth flowing skirt that fell graceful to her feet.
She also favored the blue satin ribbon as well as the matching choker that adorned her hair and neck, and when she inspected the completed ensemble in the brass bordered frames of her full length bedroom mirror, she couldn’t help smiling.
“Not bad,” she whispered, turning to Norma with a smooth flourish as she blushed in spite of herself.
Her escort for the evening reflected these sentiments moments later as he arrived at her home in a black polished carriage guided by two ivory chargers.
“You, my lady, are beautiful,” he praised her, kissing her hand as he made a deep bow before her.
“Thank you!” she returned, adding as her rebellious gaze perused the black mohair jacket and pants, as well as the sleek white satin shirt that completed his own ensemble for the evening, “So do you!”
Soon the couple walked into the simple but clean-lined social hall that formed a far corner of Willowbrook Church; a hall adorned
this evening with shimmery tulle tissue banners every color of the rainbow, as well as pennants and swirls that brought some much needed color to the room.
Taking her tenderly in two strong arms, Jacob swept Lorelei across the surface of a clean tiled dance floor, swirling and swaying her in time to the music played by a violinist who stood unobtrusively in the corner.
Bending her body backward in a thrilling dip, Jacob graced Lorelei’s lips with a whisper soft kiss as their bodies grew closer together.
Soon, their proper ballroom dance evolved into something of a lustrous tango, their beings merging to form a radiant constant as they twirled like a vibrant kaleidoscope across the width and breadth of the dance floor.
“This is perfect,” Lorelei breathed, feeling as light as air as his sturdy hands enclosed her waist and their chests pressed together.
Jacob shrugged.
“Almost,” he agreed, “but not quite.”
With these words, he lifted his head to address the violinist in the corner, a man who now paused between songs to take guest requests.
“Dear Sir!” Jacob summoned his attention with a spirited wave, “Could you please play The Yellow Rose of Texas, and dedicate the song to my lady friend here?”
Soon an exalted Lorelei kicked up her heels as she and Jacob launched into yet another jaunty, spirited reel; their hands clenched tight together as they and other dancers made broad circles across the floor.
Finally, the couple collapsed in an affirming hug as their signature song came to a close, walking together in the direction of a refreshment stand that formed a far corner of the social hall.
They froze seconds later, and their smiles dissolved as their path was blocked by the presence of a tall, muscled man, one who struck a strong stance before them as he glared outright at a startled Jacob.
“John Townsend,” he addressed the man before them, immediately recognizing the husband of his former lover.
John nodded.
“Yes sir, it’s me,” he acknowledged, adding as he balled his fists at his side, “And you are the man who dang near ruined my marriage.” He paused here, adding as he opened his sleek tan coat to reveal what appeared to be a shiny pearl handled a revolver, “And if you would care to step outside with me, I’d quite like to settle this matter once and for all.”
Gasping outright, Lorelei touched Jacob’s shoulder with a warm protective hand, shaking her head as she told a furious John, “Mr. Townsend, violence is never the answer to anything—especially not in a church social hall.” She paused, adding as she braced her hands on her hips, “Have you never heard of turnin’ the other cheek and all that good stuff?”
Jacob shook his head.
“The man has the right to want me dead,” he told Lorelei, all the while never tearing his gaze from the face of his onetime rival. “And frankly, John, you have every right to hate the man who trespassed on your marriage. Just please know, Mr. Townsend, that the man who betrayed you is not the same gentleman who stands before you today.”
John snorted.
“So I take it, then, that you have an evil twin?” he deadpanned.
Jacob smiled, but only briefly.
“No,” he acknowledged, adding with a heated sigh, “I do feel, however, that I was overcome by a certain type of evil—a force that drove me to fill the empty, lonely place that lingered deep inside me after the death of my parents. I went to any and all lengths to fill that void, to numb the pain that threatened to kill my heart.” He paused, adding as he averted his eyes to the floor beneath them, “I sure enough did choose the wrong way to go about it, though. And if you feel that the taking of my life is sufficient punishment for the pain and dishonor that I have brought upon the heads of you and your wife, then so be it. I will not draw my gun against you, or try to escape my fate.”
With this, he once again lifted his gaze to look his rival straight in the eyes.
“If it would make you feel better, if it would mend your marriage, to take the life of the man who tarnished it, then please do so,” he advised John, adding with a sharp nod in the direction of the stunned, wide-eyed Lorelei, “just please, please do not harm the beautiful angel who has offered me love and salvation by way of her beneficent touch.”
In a reflexive action, a stone-faced John laid a firm grip on the glistening tip of his imposing pearl handled a revolver.
Then in a heartbeat, he released the gun, gripping instead the hand of his rival, who he engaged in a warm handshake.
“I suppose it would not benefit Lillibet to have a husband in jail,” he reasoned, adding with a nod toward Lorelei, “it also would not benefit this lovely lady to have a husband in the grave.”
Releasing his rival’s hand with an abiding smile, Jacob next took the hand of the woman beside him, turning to her with love in his eyes as he clarified, “Well, she’s not my wife; yet soon I do hope to correct this heinous misfortune.”
Dipping his free hand deep into his pocket, Jacob withdrew a shining diamond ring and presented it to a glowing Lorelei, slipping the ring over her finger as he asked, “Lorelei Harris, would you do me the honor of being my wife?”
Blinking back some unbidden tears, Lorelei stared with quiet admiration at the symbol of love that now adorned her hand, as well as at the man who bestowed this symbol as a statement of his love and heart.
“Yes, Jacob,” she breathed finally, leaning forward to grace his smiling lips with a warm, affirming kiss, “Yes, I will.”
*****
Jacob and Lorelei found themselves once again in church the following Sunday, this time for the blessed occasion of their holy and eternal nuptials.
Dressed for the occasion in an out skirted satin wedding gown the hue of purest cream, one further accentuated by the adornment of a pink pearl sash and elegant puffed sleeves, Lorelei also pinned her blonde tresses with tiny golden roses. She also carried a bouquet made up of fully bloomed versions of these same ebullient blossoms.
The man she joined at the altar that day also shone as a picture of gentlemanly resplendence, wearing as he did a brown wool frock coat with matching pantaloons, as well as a wedding vest of ivory silk brocade that covered a crisp white cotton shirt. A bolo tie of silver brocade completed the look as did the resplendent smile that welcomed his beautiful bride.
Joining hands at the brass bordered altar that oversaw their nuptials that day, the couple stared deep into one another’s eyes as they heard and recited the vows of holy matrimony.
Finally, and with a binding kiss, the couple reached the end of the ride that had brought them this far; thus embarking as they did on the greatest ride of all—the one that would take them all the way home.
The Yellow Rose
The singular act of shucking an ear of corn might not be considered the most glamorous or intellectually challenging activity; but, for some odd and inexplicable reason, Abigail Tompkins loved every moment of it.
Standing side by side with her parents Ray and Sandra Tompkins, the owners and proprietors of the Diamond T ranch in the heart of Austin, Texas, she basked with a smile in the sumptuous rays of the golden Texas sun, also reveling in the vision of endless emerald green fields that signified their life and industry.
Every morning she joined her parents in the tending of their 50-acre farm, a modest but fertile plot that also had served as the site of her childhood home.
Even as a child her tiny hands had picked and shucked these precious ears of corn, also garnering many precious memories in the company of the two dear friends who—as an added bonus—had brought her into the world. Mighty nice of them, she thought.
“I do believe, dear daughter, that you may have set some sort of record this morning for the most ears of corn consecutively shucked,” said her mother, a petite brunette with wide, brown eyes, who graced a grinning Abigail with a playful nudge as she added, “Congratulations!”
Standing upright at the center of the field, the tall, sturdy Abigail straightened her straw hat atop he
r dark haired head as she considered this curious praise.
“Well I must say it Mother,” she said finally, “if that is the most exalted accomplishment that I can achieve throughout the course of my young life, then—well—that makes me feel pretty darned sad and pathetic, to be truthful. Thanks for that, Mum.”
Chuckling as they exchanged looks that reflected their keen amusement, Ray and Sandra turned as one to fix their 21-year-old daughter with a warm, affectionate smile.
“Make no mistake, daughter. You accomplish every bit as much as we do on this ranch—more so, on some days,” Ray Tompkins assured her, adding as he reached forward to grace her sturdy shoulder with a loving pat, “And especially since both of your younger sisters abandoned us this year to marry their ever adoring beaux, we can’t tell you how much we appreciate you staying on with us—helping us build the Diamond T into something special.”
Abigail nodded.
“Thanks Daddy,” she acknowledged his compliment, adding as she made a broad gesture across the heather strewn fields around them, “The Diamond T is my home—not to mention my business. I’d far rather shuck corn than birth babies or clean up after some man, any day of the week.” She paused here, adding as she thrust a sturdy finger square at the center of her own denim clad chest, “This is my job, and I do it well. And I never have even the slightest desire to be anywhere else.”
Ray nodded.
“Well your ma and I can’t be any prouder,” he affirmed, adding as he graced his daughter with a warm, loving smile, “As you well know, Girl, your grandparents were the settlers who claimed this land. And now that they’ve passed, your ma and I have every intention of doing them proud. But we can’t do it without our dear lady farmer.”
Striking a deep bow in response to his words, Abigail tipped her straw hat in her parents’ direction before stepping sidewalks down their row of planted corn, soon leaning forward to continue her work as she whistled absently to herself. It would only be an hour or two, she mused, until she and her folks would retire to their ranch house to enjoy a hearty noon meal made from home grown—and handpicked--ingredients.
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