Hopefully Matched

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Hopefully Matched Page 7

by Ginny Sterling


  Last night, when she had stepped inside, practically running from the kiss that his stance had promised, she had felt excited and scared at once. Jeremiah was attractive and had made no qualms about letting her know that he had picked her as a potential bride in return. He had answered the ad, she had responded in kind. While she had originally pushed off the idea of marrying due to her rampant feelings of guilt at the thought of betraying her marriage vows, it was now solidified in her mind that Peter was not returning. It had been four years without a word. She needed to move forward just as much as her neighbor, Melton, who also was widowed.

  Today would not be just a festival for the town. It was a chance to meet and greet the new faces in town, joining their parish. She would put her best foot forward and act like a proper, gentile lady, instead of allowing Jeremiah to incite her to throw manners to the wind. Mortified, she remembered that she had crammed the tart into her mouth, causing him to do the same. Ladies did not do that! Nor had he fought to actually kiss her! She knew that he could have but, instead, he had backed away, apologized and she found herself running indoors. Running from him.

  Taking care, she carefully styled her hair up delicately, allowing her hair to gather and fall in a mass of curls. A few stray tendrils curled around her ears. Studying herself in the mirror, she smiled. She realized that she looked like an eligible young lady instead of a proper wife who wore her hair in a snood or a tight bun. She had done that since she had married Peter. Her gown was perfect for a spring day. It was one of her best and made by Lucy Talbot. Lucy had always had an eye for fashion, and this creation was no different. Long, translucent sleeves gathered at her wrists, while the bodice was covered in a fashionable lace to keep it modest. The wide collar gave her a place to pin a small cameo that had been her mother’s. It was delicate, feminine and enchanting, making her feel almost like a belle before the war.

  A loud knock at the door interrupted her thoughts as she realized that Jeremiah must have arrived to pick her up. Either that or it was another body being delivered. Both gave her chills, but for different reasons. Stepping lively down the stairs of the small house, she felt alive with the idea of having fun today. Even if it was notification of a delivery, she would still do her best to enjoy what time she could at the festival. Nothing could damper her spirits!

  Opening the door, she smiled politely at Jeremiah. He stood there in the clothing she had provided and it was obvious he had just had a bath. Ava momentarily closed her eyes at the memory of him rising out of the trough that was kept at the mortuary to pack bodies in ice. She couldn’t believe he had used it as a tub. But then again. wasn’t that what it was for? She had certainly kept it clean!

  Jeremiah’s dark hair was carefully combed and he looked quite dapper in the suit. His broad shoulders fit the expanse easily, making her feel a twinge of guilt as she realized that it hadn’t fit Peter quite right. The string tie was askew, causing her polite smile to widen into a grin as she stepped forward. His eyes widen in surprise at the easiness that came to her. It was nothing for her to adjust his tie. But to do so, she had to step into his personal space.

  “Good morning,” she said quietly. “Stand still and I will straighten your tie.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” he replied appreciatively. Ava didn’t even realize that he had moved until she caught him sniffing at her hair. “You really like sour things, don’t you? I smell lemons.”

  “Lemon verbena,” she answered and shivered at his warm breath on her hair. The moment was broken by a loud whinny nearby.

  “No,” she breathed in surprise and instantly regretted it as Jeremiah quickly stepped backwards from her, thus undoing the bow she had just finished since the string was still in her hands.

  “My apologizes again, Mrs. Buchannan.” He stepped back, jerked the tie from his neck and tucked it in the pocket of his jacket. Turning away, she quickly reached for his arm.

  “Jeremiah! It’s not you, it’s the horse,” she explained, feeling embarrassed that he had thought she was brushing him off.

  “What’s wrong with the horse? The woman at the livery just laughed when I told her I wanted a gentle one to ride out to the festival with you.”

  “I’m sure she did,” she said, looking past Jeremiah and eyeing the four-legged devil that was staring at her. “Horses and I do not agree.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean that you’ll end up thrown, bit or some other maiming if I end up on that horse. Either that or I will end up tossed. Tell me that you don’t expect me to ride that… thing?” Her hand pointed at the chestnut horse.

  “Of course I do. Ava, I would never let you get hurt,” he promised, running his hand through his wet hair, disheveling it. “I shoveled stalls this morning at the livery, in exchange for using the horse. I wanted to make sure you weren’t too tired to dance later. I heard there was a dance and I’d hoped you’d do me the honors. I already paid and it’s a long walk. If you want to walk we can,” he offered, looking embarrassed.

  How could she refuse that? “No, we’ll ride. But I warn you now that we do not get along well at all!”

  “They probably smell your fear, Ava. This one here is a sweet girl. She ate right out of my hand this morning when I cleaned her stall.”

  “I bet,” she retorted and instantly bit her tongue at his grin.

  “Give me your hand and trust me,” he encouraged. “Ava, it will be okay. I promise.”

  Stretching out her hand, she was frustrated to see it shook in fear. This was ridiculous. Horses hated her and her alone. People rode them all the time. But if she tried to get near one, she got snapped at or pawed at. Jeremiah’s warm hand encircled hers, before kissing her knuckles.

  “For luck,” he said quietly with a grin. She watched as he turned to the horse that was staring at Ava. His other hand rested lightly on the horse’s head just below the eyes, rubbing it softly. Tugging at her hand, he walked her forward and crooned gently as the horse became skittish. The sudden movement forced Ava to yank her hand from his and step back.

  “Ava, trust me. They can tell you are scared. Trust me and relax, darling,” he breathed, pulling her forward. Jeremiah’s arms wrapped around her as he stood behind her, almost in an embrace. But instead, he reached around and held her hand forward, while his other arm circled her waist. “I’ve got you. Nothing will happen, I promise.”

  “I’m going to hold you to that,” she admitted, swallowing hard. She was not sure what made her more nervous; the strong arms wrapped around her or the large animal eyeing her hand like it was the next snack!

  “Shhhh,” he breathed softly against her neck, causing her to shiver and close her eyes. She breathed in his clean scent and focused on her rapid pulse that fluttered in her chest. All of a sudden, she felt contact under her fingertips and nearly jumped. “Shhh, darling Ava. I’ve got you,” she heard in her ear, causing her knees to weaken. “Open your eyes and pet her. She’s waiting and hasn’t moved an inch.”

  Ava peered nervously out of one eye, expecting to see her fingers disappear into the horse’s mouth. Instead, she found her hand rested on the nose of the animal and the horse was nudging her. “Oh, she is sweet, isn’t she?” Ava gasped. Petting the horse awkwardly, she touched the bridge of her nose and laughed when the large tongue reached out, touching her wrist. “She licked me!”

  Jeremiah muttered something, but Ava didn’t catch it. She was too fascinated by the sweet horse that kept nudging her hand for more attention. Looking up, she saw that Jeremiah had climbed into the saddle and stood there with his hand extended towards her. “Let’s mount up and get going,” he told her. “Do the same thing, rest your hand on her and walk towards me. Don’t be frightened.”

  Placing her hand in his, she carefully put her foot in the stirrup in order to mount behind Jeremiah on the saddle. Instead, he pulled her in front of him as he slid back. “You take the saddle. I will ride pillion.”

  Ava felt curiously invincible. She kept expecting t
he horse to snap at her or throw her. But instead, she felt like she could do anything and that Jeremiah would be there to catch her. It was a heady sensation to feel supported and protected. His arms were on either side of her and held the reins lightly, directing the horse easily up North Main Street towards the ranch. They rode silently for a bit as Ava kept anticipating the slightest repercussion from the animal.

  “Relax and talk to me,” Jeremiah ordered. “Keep your mind occupied. It will keep you from focusing on what bothers you.”

  “How do you know that will work?”

  “It already did, remember? Why do you think I was goading you when we prepped the body for burial? It’s not because I like making you upset, even though you are stunning when you are angry, dear. It’s simply because you focus on something else, letting you get past the fear. It was something another officer taught me when I was on the field.”

  “Why? You were scared?”

  “Absolutely! I was terrified!”

  “I thought men weren’t supposed-” she said, stopping quickly when she realized how insulting it sounded.

  “Yes. Yes, men are supposed to be strong fearless leaders. We are. But we are also human. Make no mistake, when you see a cannonball take off another man’s head, you are terrified that you are next! There are things that I cannot share because I can’t speak the words aloud. The memories haunt me and though I am supposed to be brave, I find myself having nightmares like a child sometimes,” he admitted.

  “I’m sorry,” she said quickly.

  “Don’t be. War is terrible. My scars may be few on the outside, but they are there on the inside. I guess that is why I am, how did you put it, shameless?” he said mockingly, kissing her on the cheek boldly in the middle of the street. “I have seen death and I want to grasp at life. There is so much beauty in the world and I never really appreciated it until it was nearly taken from me.”

  “You mean your leg?”

  “Exactly,” he said, getting quiet.

  “Tell me what happened,” she invited.

  “I took a bullet to the leg. It was nothing glorious or heroic. I was at Vicksburg and there was so much chaos going on that it was hard to tell who was who on the field. The uniforms were stained, making them blur in front of your eyes. I was in the thick of it, trying to help and trying to get my commanding officer back to the tent so I could address his injuries, but he would have none of it. He got angry and ordered me to fight, so I did. We all did. I found him dead on the ground when I was captured. I had been shot in the leg, slowing me down when the battle drew to an end. I thought someone would take my leg but, thankfully, I was able to fight off infection in the Union camps. I eventually healed and was released.”

  “You didn’t head home?”

  “I did and it was gone.”

  “Where was your home?”

  “Just outside of Savannah. I had heard about Sherman’s march and refused to believe the stories of the devastation but they were all true. Crops gone. Homes? Families? All of it was almost leveled to the sea. I remember I was still healing and when I came up to the bridge that was near my family home, I found the bridge gone and the house was rubble. I left. I felt that I had been given a second chance at life and I wanted to take it. So now, we are here.”

  “So we are,” she agreed blindly, feeling shocked at what he must have felt and gone through.

  “Ava, darling? We are here at the ranch,” he teased. “But I’m glad you agree with me.”

  Blushing at the misunderstanding, she swatted at his hand that rested around her waist. “Help me down, if you please.”

  “Of course.”

  Staring out over the large crowd that was gathering, Ava was inspired by all the happy, smiling faces. The haunted expressions from the town of Maypearl were gone, replaced with hope. The smells of baked goods nearby were enticing. The tables were laden with a variety of pies, cakes and muffins.

  “The eggs! I forgot them!” Ava cried aloud, spinning around to look at Jeremiah who was tying up the horse.

  “It looks like there is plenty of food. Don’t worry, Ava,” he said easily, looping the reins around the post.

  “That’s not the point! I need to go get them,” she hedged, feeling torn. She would rather go join the festivities than to ride home. Seeing Melissa Miller’s dark hair bobbing through the crowd, she saw her set a large cake on the table. “I have to get my dish.”

  “Why? No one will starve. Let’s join in,” he invited. “Unless you are competing with Miss Melissa,” he teased. Ava’s quick glance at Jeremiah gave away the fact that she had been watching the young woman. Melissa Miller was lovely and also very eligible.

  “That isn’t why,” she countered, looking away from his grinning face.

  “Come along,” Jeremiah ordered, pulling a quilt from the horse’s rump where he had been sitting on the ride over. “I promise you, there is no competition if I was given a choice between the two.” Ava looked at him curiously. She was surprised to hear humor in his voice and assumed he was teasing her about Melissa.

  “I’d pick your sour vinegar eggs over her sweet cake any old day, Ava. I find that I have a fondness for sour things,” he announced loudly, much to her chagrin, and walked boldly off with the quilt tossed over his shoulder. Ava’s jaw dropped at the innuendo. The nerve of that man! Even with his limp, she found herself watching as he walked off. Then she was racing to catch up.

  “You really are something, you know that?” she told him, once she caught up and tugged at his arm to slow him down.

  “You’ve caught my attention,” he replied bluntly. “Unless you are done with me or looking elsewhere.” She shook her head as he grinned at her. “Ava, pick a spot for us to picnic later then, my dear.”

  They walked over to where several other blankets lay nearby under the evergreens. They would provide shade to watch the festivities later in the day. Ava spread the blanket and Jeremiah put his jacket on it. It seemed a very personal and intimate thing to do. Picnicking was something couples did. She hadn’t had a beau in such a long time and it made her feel good to see that she had one now. He must have been thinking the same thing or reading her mind, because her eyes met his and his wide, knowing smile was endearing. Thankfully, he didn’t say a word about it. Instead, he just crooked his arm, inviting her to join in the festivities.

  Walking arm in arm, it was good to see the children of town running around, playing. Several men and women stood in groups talking together. It felt normal. Not war wounded, not broken, or hopeless. There was so much hurt and anger for so long.

  After the war and the bank robbery, the resentment of strangers passing through town had stung and hung in the air. Rangers were invited to town and Ava had already noticed a chance in the air. Hope was back.

  Now, the church was hosting a real shindig! The field had cleaned up nicely and it was evident that help was here. Several men wore guns around their waists, including the ranger, Mr. Ashton. Even Jeremiah had worn his, slung low on his hip. The thought of community and making new acquaintances had really brought out everyone, putting the townsfolk at ease.

  She could see Mrs. Smith in the distance. She apparently had made several huge pots of chicken and dumplings. The woman was smiling as she ladled bowls of the hearty meal for each person nearby. They joined several others nearby to eat, listening to the conversations and studying the flurry of activity in the distance.

  While she had braved petting and riding the lovely chestnut horse, she was in no hurry to press her luck. Thankfully, their seats allowed them to watch the cowboys gallop in large circles off in the distance, performing different tricks on the horses. Off to the side of where they were performing, it looked almost like wrestling was occurring with the animals. Glowing brands brought everything to a halt as the small calves were branded. The bleating of the animals tore at Ava.

  “I think I am finished,” she said quietly, setting down her bowl of half-eaten soup. “I can’t bear to listen to them, i
magining what that feels like. I guess that makes me soft.”

  “No, that makes you alive,” Jeremiah disagreed, setting his own bowl down. “The calf doesn’t bother me as much as imagining when I had to do that to cauterize a wound. I believe my appetite is gone, too. Shall we walk around?”

  “Yes, please.”

  Standing first, Jeremiah took both bowls and returned them to the large table where the other dishes sat. He returned and extended his arm politely. Ava grasped it to stand up from her bench seat.

  “Let’s see if there is a kissing booth,” he teased.

  “Find it yourself,” she said halfheartedly, pulling her hand from his arm. He quickly grasped it and put her hand back in its place.

  “I was teasing you to get your mind off the calves.”

  “It worked.”

  “I can see that. Shall we?” he began again, this time with a knowing smile at Ava. That smug, knowing expression irritated her. He acted like he knew her. Well, she’d show him!

  “You can try your charms on someone else. Who knows? Maybe it will work this time.”

  “Oh ho? That sounds like a challenge,” he answered glibly.

  “No, a promise,” she countered, raising her delicate nose in the air to meet his eyes. “You are welcome to kiss who you’d like, Mr. Ellington.”

  “Well, I am relieved to have your permission, Mrs. Buchannan. I am assuming we are back to formalities?”

  As they stood there talking, Ava avoided Jeremiah’s gaze on purpose. Instead, she watched as Melissa Miller paid a penny for a slice of pie for a tall blond-haired man. He had bent his golden head and kissed Melissa’s knuckles politely in a deep bow, handing the plate back to her instead. It was obvious she had tried to purchase it for him, yet he gave it to her. This brought a bright red flush to her cheeks that seemed quite the contrast to her pale skin.

 

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