Pamela Morsi (6 page)

Its absence on his face was startling. The lined, work-ravaged face of Rome Akers would never be classically handsome, but without the long, curling handlebar hanging from his upper lip, he was a fair-looking man.

“You look much better without it,” she told him honestly.

He didn’t appear convinced. “That’s what your Amos told me,” he said.

Gussie was surprised. “You talked to Amos about us already?”

Rome shook his head. “No, I went into the barbershop to get cleaned up. I announced that I was headed for a courtship. I figured that was a quick way to get the word out.”

Gussie nodded. It was a good idea.

“Amos suggested that if I were
serious
about the woman, I should shave,” he said. “I could hardly tell him that I wasn’t so serious.”

“No, of course not. That would ruin everything.”

He came to stand behind her and gazed at himself in the hall-tree mirror, fingering his bare upper lip.

Gussie gazed at him in the glass and a strange jolt went through her. The image in the mirror. A man and a woman in the same small oval was somehow too prosaic, too intimate.

She stepped away from him too quickly and nearly fell. She giggled nervously. It was not an attractive sound.

“We’d best go,” Gussie told him. In truth they had plenty of time, but Rome nodded in agreement.

He held the door for her as she passed through and then proffered his arm when they descended the front steps.

“It’s going to be fine, Miss Gussie,” Rome told her encouragingly. “Try not to worry too much.”

“I am so jittery,” she admitted.

“And that is fine,” he assured her. “That would be expected for a woman walking out with a man for the first time.”

“Do you think …”

Gussie hesitated. It was her worst fear and she hated to voice it. Bravely she spoke the words.

“Do you think they’ll believe it?” she said.

Rome hesitated and Gussie knew he felt just as she did. The two of them were the most unlikely, mismatched couple ever to promenade down a public street. Everyone would see through the ruse, and their implausible scheme would blow up in a grand humiliation from which neither would ever fully recover. Gamely they kept walking.

“It’s very important that you don’t overplay your role,” Gussie advised. “Don’t attempt to hold hands with me or spout poetry or the like.”

Rome looked startled. “I would never dream of holding hands with you, Miss Gussie,” he assured her. “And the only verses I’ve committed to memory are the type improper for recitation in mixed company.”

She blushed.

“I was just trying to help,” she said.

“I know how to escort a lady in public.”

“Well, how was I to know that? I’ve never seen you walking out with anyone and—”

“Smile,” he ordered, interrupting her explanation. “The Purdys are on the other side of the street and they are looking this way.”

Gussie felt her face flame. This was it. It was really happening. Everybody in town would believe she was being courted by Rome Akers. She just had to hope that the experience would be short, uncomplicated, believable and efficient.

Deliberately she raised her chin high. A asset worth having was worth fighting for, scheming for, even lying for.

She knew the exact moment the Purdys spotted them. There was an audible gasp from Anna. Gussie turned to glance at Rome.

“And they’re off!” he said in a teasing whisper.

He smiled at her then. It was the warmest, sweetest smile Gussie had ever seen on his face. It lit up those fine blue eyes, and even though she was aware that it was part of the deception, it took her breath away.

Several other people saw them, but no one actually spoke until they reached the church. Perry Wilhelm was standing next to the steps, rolling himself a cigarette. When he glanced up at them, his jaw actually dropped open in disbelief.

Gussie suffered a moment of panic. Was it that hard to believe that a man like Rome Akers would walk out with her? Fortunately, Wilhelm recovered quickly and so did she.

“Good evening, Rome, Miss Gussie,” he said to them.

They acknowledged the greeting. Gussie just nodded, but she heard Rome saying something appropriate, so she smiled.

Sharing wordlessly their secret, she just smiled.

Then, as they went up the steps together, both nervous, scared and edgy, they glanced at each other. In that one friendly, connected instant, something very unexpected happened. Rome Akers winked at her.

It was such a flirty, flighty, man-woman gesture. Innocent yet hinting at all things sensual. To her knowledge, in her thirty-one years of life experience, no man had ever winked at her.

It was somehow reassuring, yet it gave her a strange sort of fluttery feeling in her chest. She swallowed the strange reaction and continued by his side.

They entered the church. On the small table in the vestibule, the anemic hothouse roses greeted the arrivals.

As they approached the sanctuary, Gussie was suddenly aware of the strength of the man beside her.
Somehow the powerful muscles in the arm upon which she so formally lay her hand gave her courage. Rome Akers was a good man to have by her side in any endeavor. She’d known that in business. Now she understood that it was also true when confronted with a personal challenge.

“Smile,” he reminded her in a whisper.

She glanced up into his face and did just that. Her knees were quaking, her pulse was pounding, her stomach was near nausea, but she smiled up at the man beside her.

“I’m ready,” she told him, not certain whether it was truth or a lie.

He smiled back at her and they stepped through the entryway. There was almost a stunned hush to the crowd. Gussie knew that there could not have been more eyes upon her had she been the bride herself.

Rome was a brave and daring fellow. Gussie would have been very tempted to take a spot in the very first pew they passed. The Mudd family pew, however, was fourth from the front on the right side. She would not have thought that Rome knew that, but he led her unerringly to it. They seated themselves and gazed silently straight ahead.

It wasn’t going to be easy. Gussie had known that going into this deception. But she had not realized how conspicuous she would feel. Or how unlikely she would look as the object of attention for a man like Rome Akers.

But Rome, she decided at that rather uncomfortable moment in the pew, was not the kind of fellow who would ever choose a bride based upon the practicalities that the woman offered. Gussie would suit Amos Dewey perfectly. That was obvious both to her and to everybody who knew them.

But Rome Akers? No, there was simply too much … too much passion in the man.

Beside her, Rome leaned in closer and spoke to her in a low and private tone.

“Did you see Amos?” he whispered. “He’s near the back, sitting with the Bensons. I’m sure he saw you.”

It was all Gussie could do to face forward and not glance behind her in the man’s direction. Her plan was really happening. Amos had seen her. What had he felt? she wondered. Confusion. Anger. Jealousy. Pain.

Not pain, she hoped ardently. She didn’t want to hurt him. She didn’t want that at all.

Rome covered her gloved hand with his own. It was then that she realized she was trembling. She looked at him.

“Courage,” he whispered.

Gussie straightened her shoulders.

It was at that moment that Mr. and Mrs. Penderghast moved into their pew just in front of them. An audible intake of breath got Gussie’s attention. She raised her head to see the Penderghasts, both of them, gazing in shocked incredulity at the sight of Gussie and Rome holding hands in church.

The two schemers realized their breach of etiquette at exactly the same instant and Rome released her hand. It had been a comforting gesture, not a romantic one. But no one else would ever know that.

Gussie had wanted to create talk. She was certainly going to get it now. Nervously she glanced around the room. There was a great crowd of people. Nearly every family in town was represented. And she knew most everyone. Most from her social circle, but also a few from the ice plant, her employees and their families. What would they make of this mismatched pair?
The owner and the manager of their livelihood holding hands together in church. At the very least, it boded upheaval and change. She hadn’t given a thought to how this deception might affect her employees.

The minister entered rather noisily from an anteroom, walking from pew to pew, loudly greeting people and discussing the weather, cotton prices and the latest exploits of “Dark Cloaked Avenger,” a serial fiction currently being published in
Cottonwood Beacon
.

When he reached Gussie and Rome, he was momentarily struck speechless. He quickly recovered himself and shook Rome’s hand in a manner too enthusiastic to be enjoyed.

“I’m so glad you’ve brought this sinner with you today, Miss Gussie,” he said. “We haven’t seen Rome in church here since he was wearing short pants.”

Gussie was embarrassed by the pastor’s attention. It was … well, it was so loud. Churches should be quiet, reverent places. And the men who headed them should be likewise. She knew Reverend Holiday to be an upright, righteous and worthy member of the clergy. But for the life of her, she had to bite her tongue to keep from shushing the man.

And now, being the loud focus of attention in the building was almost more public display than she could bear. Anyone who’d missed their entrance, the long walk to the Mudd Family pew or Mrs. Penderghast’s gasp could not fail to note the loud comments of the good reverend.

Reverend Holiday continued to gush for several more minutes before he moved on to make his way through the rest of those in attendance.

Why had she chosen this night? Why had she chosen this place? Surely another occasion would have been better for this deception. She quickly met Rome’s eyes. He looked as disconcerted as she.

R
OME COULDN’T IMAGINE HOW LONG ONE EVENING
could last. And it had hardly begun. It seemed like a lifetime had passed before the groom and his best man and aide-de-camp appeared up front to wait with the pastor. The music began to play. There was a flutter of anticipation all around the room, as if the wedding might actually commence.

The church door opened and, as one, every person in attendance turned to look. The two young attendants entered one at a time. Leading was pretty, red-haired Betty Ditham. She was the oldest granddaughter of old Shultz, and Rome recognized her from the times she’d visited the ice plant. Behind her was the bride’s sister, Becky.

Rome thought the younger Timmons girl must be fifteen or sixteen. But Miss Becky had yet to acquire any womanly curves. Her hips were straight as a board and her bosom more closely resembled a tabletop than a pair of hillocks.

The two made their way to the front of the church. Betty with smiles and flirtatious giggles. Becky with
timidity and hesitance. They were in place and facing the back entrance when the bride appeared at the doorway.

The congregation rose to its feet.

Rome put his hand upon Miss Gussie’s elbow to help her up. It was a tender gesture he’d often shown to his mother in years now distantly past. It seemed appropriate somehow to extend such a courtesy to his ladylike employer. He accepted a slight nod of appreciation from her before turning his attention back to the dramatic procession.

Lucy looked flushed and lovely, as always. Her elaborate gown might have outshone a less comely young woman, but with her shiny blond hair, bright blue eyes and dazzling smile, she was an unquestioned beauty. And her obvious happiness glowed from within her.

The march to the front of the church was slightly awkward. Her father, a hardworking and capable cobbler, walked beside her. He had a noticeable limp and a thin, wan body bent and twisted by arthritis.

Rome could remember the girl when she was all unkempt pigtails and toothless grin, charging up to his wagon to beg for chunks of ice. It was so strange that she was to be a married woman now, and he was still waiting for the right woman to come along.

Rome hardly had the time to absorb this completely before the congregation was seated and the ceremony commenced.

The preacher, a bit too loud and overenthusiastic, conducted the service with as much solemnity and reverence as he could manage.

Rome did not frequent weddings. In fact, he could not recall the last he had attended. He wondered now why he had not. With the fine music and the sentimental
drama of the events, it was, in its way, more entertaining than a traveling vaudeville production.

Of course, marriage itself was a very serious concern. At least it had always seemed so to him. Rome was not opposed to holy wedlock on any level. He thought it to be a very good thing—for Gussie and Amos and Lucy and her beau.

For a man like himself, well, it was hard to even imagine Rome Akers in the position of groom. He accepted the inevitability of marriage. Eventually he would find a woman who didn’t annoy him too much and he would settle down with her. He wanted children. He’d need someone to leave his legacy to.

“Who gives this woman in marriage to this man?”

The preacher’s words were a bit louder than necessary, with excessive dramatic emphasis on inquisition, as if he truly had no idea who was standing up with the bride.

“I do,” old, crippled Timmons replied proudly.

He looked assessingly at the young groom and then shared a quick, almost private glance with his daughter. Then he smiled at the two of them as if he had complete confidence and was wholly in agreement with the match. But in the evening glow of candles, Rome detected a gleam in the man’s eyes that could only be evidence of tears.

Reverend Holiday began explaining the duties of marriage. Both the duty of two people to each other and the duty of the couple to God. The bride and groom exchanged brief, intimate glances. The depth of feeling in their eyes said more than anything spoken. They were so young, so attractive, so full of hope.

Rome shot a surreptitious look in Gussie’s direction.