Town Square, The (20 page)

Arthur’s mom touched her shoulder. “Oh, you poor thing,” she said, and pulled her in for a hug.

Harriet had to let go of Arthur and Maybelline’s hands to return the embrace. His mother was shorter than she was, and had a spine of steel.

When Mrs. Hale stepped back, she nodded in a crisp fashion that was reminiscent of Arthur. “Welcome to the family, Harriet.”

Arthur’s father also nodded, and in his bright blue gaze—so like his son’s—she also saw acceptance.

Then George barreled forward and hugged her, calling out, “Oh, come on, everyone. Let’s show Harriet and her sister what a great town Dare can be.”

“Yeah,” a little girl with braids said. “She said she was sorry.”

A few people chuckled at that.

When George let her go, Arthur stepped close and caressed her cheek. “For a moment there, I thought I’d made a mistake, asking you in public, but I can’t imagine loving you any more than I do right now. My, you’re brave. We’re going to make one hell of a family.”

Her laugh came out more like a sob. And then someone tapped her shoulder.

She turned. It was Bertha, whose eyes were wet. Her hand reached out for a shake. “Welcome to Dare,” she said, “I’m Bertha Linglefield.”

Harriet had to bite her lip a moment before responding. “Good to meet you, Bertha” she replied as she shook her hand, another tear falling down her face. “I’m Harriet…Wentworth. And this is my sister, Maybelline.”

“Good to meet you both,” she said, and then winked at Arthur. “Welcome to Dare Valley.”

When the waitress stepped aside, Herman Smith introduced himself just like Bertha had, giving his full name. And then Alice York from the bakery. Soon the crowd made a line to introduce themselves.

When the last person shook her hand and Maybelline’s, she wiped away more tears and hugged her sister.

“It’s going to be okay,” she whispered into her ear. “It really is.”

Maybelline rocked her back and forth. “Yes, Harriet. It will be. I’m so proud of you.”

When she let her go, Arthur put his arm around her. “Okay,” he said, the hint of impatience in his voice. “Will you marry me
now?”

A few people laughed.

As she looked up into his blue eyes, she smiled. “I’m sorry, but have we met?”

His brow rose.

Then she extended her hand. “I’m Harriet Wentworth. And you are?”

His mouth twitched. “Your future husband,” he responded, yanking her to him and then swinging her in a circle.

As the crowd started to clap, she simply held on, knowing her anchor was sound and would never let her go.

Chapter 21

T
he citizens of Dare Valley packed into the church one Saturday in June to watch Arthur Hale marry his beloved Harriet Wentworth. When the minister announced her full name, people smiled, remembering her impassioned speech in Dare’s town square on May Day and how everyone had become reacquainted with her then.

There had been talk, no two bones about it, but the couple had weathered it, largely because they only had eyes for each other and a whole lot of support. His family and Emmits made sure of that.

As Arthur slid the wedding band on Harriet’s finger, she leaned close and whispered, “I still say you should have chosen sapphires so it could remind me of your beautiful eyes.”

He snorted, something totally inappropriate at a wedding, especially theirs. But she didn’t care. “Tomfoolery,” he blustered, but his eyes twinkled, and she couldn’t look away.

He said his vows with the same intensity that he did everything else. She responded with the new confidence she’d felt since delivering her speech before the town.

It had saddened her that her father wasn’t there to walk her down the aisle, but Emmits Merriam had asked for that honor. My, how she was growing to love that man.

When the officiant pronounced Harriet and Arthur man and wife, she turned to look at her new husband.

“You may kiss the bride,” the minister said.

When Arthur leaned in, he waggled his eyebrows. “I thought he’d never get to that part,” he whispered before putting his sweet lips on hers. He took her hands when they separated and simply looked at her. She beamed back.

“Shall we, Mrs. Hale?” he asked, nodding to the aisle.

Wow, Mrs. Hale. She was a Mrs. It would take some getting used to, but it sounded great.

Maybelline, her sole attendant, smiled as they passed. Her transcripts had transferred easily to Emmits Merriam, and she would begin in the fall when the university opened. She’d decided to study English literature, thinking she might want to become a librarian some day after all her volunteering in Dare’s public library. The church choir indulged her love of singing, and she was already planning to form a theater group at the university. She’d live with Harriet and Arthur until she moved into her dorm. Both sisters were thrilled with the arrangement. It seemed like the Wentworths were all settled now.

The reception was packed, and she was kissed and hugged until she was sure her makeup had been rubbed off. When she asked Arthur about it, he just winked and said, “If there’s any left, I’ll be sure to rub if off later.”

Later.

Oh yes.

Finally.

They took their first dance, and her mouth parted in surprise. “You’re pretty good at this,” she commented.

“I’m a man of many talents,” he said, leading her with a firm, but gentle touch.

“Mmmhmmm,” she only responded and laughed when he spun her in a circle.

As the night continued, their eyes kept coming together like magnets, from across the dance floor when she was paired with someone else, when they were cutting the white Lady Baltimore cake and feeding it to each other for the first time, and the embarrassment of the whole garter toss as the men fought to catch the white lace band with the baby blue bow, her something blue.

Though she knew this was a celebration to be enjoyed, she couldn’t stop thinking about what the celebration later would be like.

She was talking to Maybelline when Arthur’s unmistakable hands slid around her slender waist. Leaning back, she felt his warmth.

“Are you ready to go?” he whispered near her ear. When she nodded her assent, he took her hand. “Then go throw that bouquet, and let’s get out of here.”

Maybelline called the single women to follow them to the center of the dance floor. But Harriet threw the bouquet with so much gusto that it leapt over the women and hit George in the chest like an arrow.

He immediately threw it away like it was poison ivy. “Get that away from me!”

Arthur slapped him on the back. “You’re next, baby brother.”

“Oh, no,” he said, dancing back, holding up his hands. “One marriage this year is plenty.”

“I just have one piece of wisdom for you when you propose. Don’t ask the lucky lady in public. If she ends up balking, you’re going to be embarrassed beyond words. I had a moment there…”

“Yeah, looked like she was going to hang you out to dry in front of the whole town.”

“But she didn’t.”

As the brothers continued bantering about George’s future nuptials, Harriet turned to Maybelline. “It’s time for me to go.”

Her sister blinked away tears before enfolding her in an enormous hug. “I know you’ll only be gone a week for your honeymoon, but I’ll miss you.”

“I’ll miss you too,” Harriet whispered.

When her sister leaned back, she smiled. “If Mom and Dad could have been here, they would have been so proud of you. I know I am.”

Her eyes grew wet. “Thanks, Maybelle.” She grabbed her again. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” she whispered. “I won’t tell you to be happy because I know you already are.”

“Yes,” she said. “Yes, I am.” And it felt really, really good.

Arthur was saying goodbye to his parents and the Merriams when she joined him. Emmits slapped him on the back. “You did good, boy,” he said. “Real good.”

“I still feel a little bad about leaving the paper for a week.”

“Trust me,” Emmits said. “Everything will be fine. Your deputy seems up to the job.”

Harriet agreed, but Arthur had only consented to taking a week off. The timing of their wedding hadn’t been the best, but neither of them had wanted to wait.

Harriet’s hand slid into his after she said goodbye to his family, and together they walked out the front door and into a shower of rice. He pulled her along as the small pieces pinged off her face and body, causing her to laugh.

Then he was opening the door and pushing her into the passenger seat. After shoving her train inside after her, he ran around the hood and lunged into the driver’s seat, laughing beside her.

“It’s everywhere,” she cried, brushing grains of rice off her dress.

“Well, if we run out of food, we’ll know where to find some.”

He honked the horn twice and took off through a sea of faces, the metal cans tied to their bumper clanging together as he increased the speed.

Then he headed to his house.

No,
their
house.

They’d agreed to spend their wedding night there before driving to Yellowstone for the rest of their honeymoon. She’d never seen that part of the country, and after all George’s praise, she’d told Arthur she wanted to see it for herself.

He held her hand while he drove, letting go only when he had to shift.

When they reached the house, the front lights were on, almost as if the house were waiting to welcome them.

He came around and helped her out, and she scooped up her train as best as she could. Then he lifted her into his arms, and she laughed.

“I was hoping you’d do this,” she said, leaning against his chest in total trust.

“Well, of course. Didn’t I marry you proper?”

“You did,” she agreed and turned the handle when he reached the front door.

The door opened, and he carried her inside.

“Welcome home, Mrs. Hale,” he whispered.

His face lowered, and she caressed those beloved cheekbones. When he kissed her, his mouth gentle and firm, like they had all the time in the world, she wrapped her arms around his neck.

“I love you,” she said.

“I love you, too,” he said back.

“Make love to me, Arthur,” she whispered before she could lose her courage.

He drew back and smiled. “It would be my pleasure, Mrs. Hale, my sincerest pleasure.”

When they reached their bedroom, he set her down and reached for the twenty–odd cloth buttons over her spine. About halfway down, he sighed. “This could take a while.”

“But you’re a determined man. A few little buttons won’t stop you.”

“Be lucky I
am
determined, my dear, or I might consider finding some scissors to hurry this along.”

His hands slid inside her dress, caressing her shoulder blades and then the length of her spine. She shuddered at that first delicate touch. When he finally freed all the buttons, she slid the dress off and stepped out of it, standing before him in her white corset, panties, garter belt, hose, and heels.

“You’re stunning.”

When he reached for his bowtie, she stepped forward. “Let me.”

His eyes sparkled, and his mouth twitched.
“Now
look who’s determined.”

She gave a slow wink, something she’d never been bold enough to do before, and his mouth parted in surprise.

“Well, well, I think I’m seeing a new side of you.”

So was she. Standing in the intimate soft glow of their bedroom, she felt like a new person.

“This is Harriet
Hale.”

“Nice to meet you, Mrs. Hale.” He traced her cheek. “My wife.”

She took his hand and laid it on her breast. “My husband.”

Their mouths met, and they caressed each other’s bodies. Neither rushed, knowing they were building a scared foundation, one that had begun in the church and would end in them coming together tonight.

When he shed his clothes, she blushed slightly, but held her ground.

“Will I do?” he asked, taking her into his arms.

“I think so. Yes.” She turned her head as his lips met her neck.

“Let me know when you’re completely sure.” There was laughter in his voice.

When he lay beside her, his mouth on her breast, she said, “Okay, I’m sure now.”

He lifted his head and grinned. “Glad to hear it.”

Then he kissed her long and deep, preparing her body, acclimating them both to these new sensations. It hadn’t been easy to wait for tonight, but they’d both agreed to it, wanting this night to be as special as possible.

When he finally entered her and broke through the final barrier between them, she gasped at the sensation, the heat, the size, the tightness. He held himself still, waiting for her to adjust. As he took his mouth to her breast, she felt her body relax. Her back arched toward him, and the initial pain became but a memory.

“Arthur,” she whispered.

“I know, love,” he only responded. “I know.”

Her body, while new to pleasure, seemed to know when to rise and fall with his. His eyes never left hers, beckoning her, loving her. She kept her gaze on his as her pulse quickened, as her body grew more urgent, as the pace increased.

She gripped his waist, wanting to chain him there, wanting a release. His hands lifted her, and he lunged, and she cried out, the pleasure cresting across her, fanning out deep inside her body.

She heard him call out above her, and then felt him lower until he rested completely on her, his harsh breath hot in her ear.

Gulping in air, she marveled at the clenching in her body, at the heat, at the sweat.

At the connection. And the soft pink glow, almost like she was floating on a cloud.

When he lifted his head to gaze at her, her whole heart seemed to expand in her chest.

“I never imagined,” she whispered.

He pressed his brow to hers then. “Me either.”

When he rolled them to the side, still keeping that new and tenuous connection, she pressed her face against his chest and tried to take it all in. No one had ever told her it could be like this between a man and a woman.

They didn’t speak other than to whisper words of love.

And when the peach rays of dawn crested through the window, he awoke her and rose over her again.