Cal had heard enough.
“Now you listen here, Mrs. Susie Marks,” he bellowed, stepping between the two women as he seared their critic with a cold hard gaze. “Of the two women I see here before me, I’m afraid that only one could be called a lady,” he paused here, adding as he made a broad gesture in Abigail’s direction, “The fine woman you see before you works hard and diligent on my land—coming home at the end of the day to seek some deserved respite in her own room; one that’s separate from my own. You, on the other hand, made an inappropriate advance toward me in town two years ago; while both of our dearly departed spouses still lived. And, if you will rightly recall, I rejected you flat.”
Susie shook her head, her delicate cheeks flushing as she considered these words.
“Yes, well, I guess I went a bit out of my mind when Doc told my husband that he didn’t have much longer on this earth,” she explained, adding as she once again faced the couple before her with a rough, cutting glare, “It still ain’t proper for an unmarried man and woman to be sharin’ the same living quarters.”
Cal nodded.
“Well on that point Madame—and that point alone—you and I just happen to agree,” he acknowledged, adding as he wrapped an encompassing arm around the shoulders of his wide-eyed date, “And that is precisely why Miss Abigail and I plan to be married next month.”
“We do?” Abigail sputtered, recovering quickly as she kissed the cheek of her smiling “intended,” “Oh I mean, yes we do! I do, most literally!”
With this she grabbed her date’s muscled arms and pulled him into the spirited reel that had now erupted on the dance floor; a riotous square dance set to the tune of a lively fiddle.
The couple laughed and chortled like free-spirited youths as their steps became fast and frantic; soon they launched into a fast-paced do si do that sent them spinning across the floor.
“You make just about everything in life so much more fun!” Cal praised his dance partner, adding as he pulled her off to the side, “Still and all, I do believe I need just a bit of a rest. Care for some punch?”
Soon the couple stood beside a sparkling crystalline punch bowl that rimmed with scarlet liquid; sipping from delicate rose print tea cups as their gazes remained clenched.
“Listen, I’m really sorry about that miserable shrew back there,” he told her at one point, adding with a distinct wince, “She’s been chasing after me since we were kids, and never got the hint that I was never even remotely interested.”
Abigail shrugged.
“Oh that’s all right,” she allowed, adding with a slight wince all her own, “I’m just sorry that you had to lie for me.”
Cal frowned.
“Lie for you?” he repeated, adding as he shook his head in a show of pure confusion, “Not sure what you mean, love.”
Abigail gritted her teeth.
“Well in a noble effort to save my reputation,” she reminded him, “You told him that we were going to be married next month.”
Cal smiled.
“Well Miss,” he began, putting aside his punch glass and taking her hand in his, “I don’t see those words as a lie, as much as they are a wish or a dream.” He paused here, adding in a whisper, “I’m in love with you, Abigail. And with your kind permission, I would indeed like to marry you next month.”
Sniffing back some unbidden tears, his lady squeezed his fingers tight as she gave a vigorous nod in response to this warm proposal.
“I love you too, Cowboy—dang me, but I do,” she told him, adding as she reached forward to sear his carved cheek with an affirming kiss, “And yes, I will marry you.”
Abigail felt as though he was floating in a dream; most literally.
Never had she imagined herself ensconced in a frock of such regal ivory finery; but indeed, the wedding gown that she now wore was a study in elegance. This white lace ball gown was culled from pure organza trimmed at the top with a fitted boned bodice and engraved lines of vertical ivory lace. A flowing train and an antique veil completed the look, as well as delicate satin slippers that took her through the door of the Dovecrest Chapel; a small but elaborate place of worship that would serve as the site of a wedding that day.
Staring with quiet admiration at the ebullient stained glass windows that lined all sides of the chapel, the bride stepped into a plush scarlet carpeted aisle that took her slowly in the direction of the man she loved.
Cal himself shone resplendent in a sleek brown wool davenport coat with a black velvet collar and matching trousers; an ensemble accented by a silver brocade vest and an ebony cravat with a gleaming diamond pin.