Deep in the Heart of Trouble (37 page)

He shook his head. “Well, I can tell you this, no one will ever again be able to say you’re marrying a younger man.”

She frowned. “What?”

“I aged ten years seeing you up there. That makes me thirtyeight and you just thirty-four.”

She smiled, but before she could respond, the judge and sheriff interrupted.

“Essie?” her father said. “You all right, honey?”

“I’m fine,” she said, hugging them both.

“Is Ewing okay?” Tony asked.

“He will be. Your sister, Russ, and a couple of the older women are taking him home and seeing to his injuries.”

“What about Howard?”

“The mob left him for dead, but the bullet didn’t hit anything vital,” Melvin said. “I have him recuperatin’ in a jail cell while the doc tends to the others who were wounded.” Melvin looked Tony up and down. “What about you? You all right?”

Tony held out his hand. “Much better than I was a few minutes ago, thanks to you and everybody else. I wasn’t sure what happened to you after the mob rushed us.”

Melvin nodded. “They stuck me in a cell and left several men to guard me. You know who freed me before my men could get there?”

“Who?” Essie asked.

“Your band of bloomer-gals. That’s who.”

She brightened. “How’d they do that?”

“Same way them suffragettes did in
A Woman’s War.
”

Her jaw went slack. “
A Woman’s War
? You read Mrs. Lockhart’s books, too?”

“Shhhh,” he said, looking around, then signaled Grandpa over.

“Gather up several men and escort Essie, Tony, and the rest of the ladies home.” Someone shouted the sheriff’s name and he excused himself.

“I want you to go on to the house with Essie,” the judge said to Tony. “I don’t want you staying in the boardinghouse until things settle down.”

“Yes, sir,” he said. “You think they’ll sentence Finch to hang?”

“I’d say it’s almost certain.”

The depth of Finch’s misdeeds overwhelmed Tony, flooding him with sorrow. Thoughts of Darius, Finch’s wives, and their shortened lives left him feeling dejected. What a waste.

Spreckelmeyer squeezed Tony’s shoulder. “Well, at least one good thing came from this.”

“Sir?”

“Well, Anna.”

“Anna?”

“Yes. If it hadn’t been for all this mess, why, she and Ewing might never have gotten married.”

Tony looked at him blankly. “Married?”

“Why, sure. She was afraid if the worst happened, she’d have to honor her marriage contract with Mr. Tubbs. Ewing told her that’d be mighty hard to do if she were already wed. So I married those two up this afternoon.”

“What?”
He looked at Essie. “Did you know about this?”

“No,” she said, eyes wide. “This is the first I’ve heard.”

Spreckelmeyer chuckled. “Well, now, with all that’s been going on, that’s not so surprising.”

Tony scanned the crowd, then remembered Anna and some of the others had taken Ewing home to see to his injuries.

Grandpa approached with a couple of horses. “You two ready?”

In a bit of a fog, Tony helped Essie mount, then swung up onto his horse. The Sullivan Oil men surrounded them and proceeded to escort them to the Spreckelmeyers’ house on Bilberry Street.

“Where’s Finch?” Tony asked Grandpa.

Grandpa spit a wad of tobacco onto the ground. “He’s got him an escort, too. Straight to the jailhouse.”

chapter THIRTY-FIVE

ESSIE WOKE early, anxious to check on Tony. She hastily donned a shirtwaist and skirt, then hurried down the stairs. Tony and Papa sat at the kitchen table. From the looks of the almost-empty coffeepot, they’d been there awhile.

“What are you doing out of bed?” she asked Tony. New bruises had materialized and his right jaw was swollen, though both eyes were open now.

“It looks worse than it feels.”

Papa stood and picked up his coffee cup. “I’ll be in my study if you need me.” He pecked her on the cheek and left the room.

Songbirds heralded the morning and a bit of eastern sun touched the window. She could see Tony had made good use of the bathwater she’d prepared for him last night. His hair was clean, his swollen face shaven, and she could smell a faint hint of sandalwood.

“Are you hungry?” she asked.

“Not really. I’ve a belly full of coffee right now. What about you?” She shook her head, then poured herself a cup. “How long have you been up?”

“Awhile.”

She leaned against the counter. “Did you sleep all right?”

“Yes. It was good to be in a real bed again.”

“I imagine.” She blew on her cup. “I’ll have Jeremy or someone collect all of your things from the jail.”

“I can do it.”

“No. I don’t want you near there. Not anytime soon, anyway.”

He studied her. “How long you gonna make me wait for a goodmorning kiss?”

A weightlessness seized her tummy. “Your jaw’s swollen. Won’t it hurt?”

“Not unless you plan on punching me.”

She smiled.

He stood, then ambled toward her. “I like waking up in your house.” He took her cup and set it down. “I’d like it even better if I were waking up in your bed.”

She swallowed.

He slipped his arms around her waist. “Good morning, love.”

Then he kissed her. Softly. Gently. Sweetly.

It didn’t take long, however, for passion to rush in and burst open the gates of desire. He clasped her more tightly against him, splaying his hands wide on her back and waist. She slid her arms around his neck.

He flinched and she jerked back.

“Oh,” she said. “I’m sorry. Did I hurt you?”

“No,” he said. “I guess I’m just a little more sore than I thought.” He slipped his hands into hers. “Come sit down at the table with me.” He held her chair, then settled in across from her. “Have you made any plans for the wedding?”

“Not yet. I’ve been spending most of my time trying to prove your innocence.”

“And I certainly appreciate that.” He squeezed her hand. “But now that we have that behind us, I was wondering if you’re going to want a big wedding?”

She shrugged. “It’s not so much that I want one, it’s more that I’ll get one by default. My father’s the Thirty-fifth Judicial District Judge, and we know most every person in the county.”

He nodded. “Maybe
big
wasn’t the right word. I think I meant fancy. Are you going to want a fancy wedding?”

She considered his question. As a young girl, she’d imagined her wedding in a thousand different ways. Sometimes she’d seen herself wearing a lavish beaded gown fit for a princess. Other times she’d visualized a wedding in an outdoor glade fragrant with colorful blooms. She’d even imagined galloping off in the sunset with some handsome cowboy. But those childhood fantasies didn’t hold the same appeal now that they did then. Since her betrothal to Tony, the details of the ceremony had become secondary to the commitment she was making to God and to him.

“You know,” she began, “I think I can honestly say I don’t care one way or the other. So long as it’s you who I’m exchanging vows with, most any kind of wedding will do. Why? Do you want a fancy wedding?”

He took a deep breath. “You know what I’d really like?”

She shook her head.

“I’d really like to get married today.”

Her lips parted.

“And not just because I’m ready to enjoy all the benefits awarded to married couples—though I’m certainly looking forward to that with great anticipation.”

She felt herself blush, though he didn’t suffer the same affliction.

“The other reason I’d like to accelerate the exchanging of vows is because I need to return to Beaumont. My family’s business interests go well beyond Morgan Oil and have been languishing since Darius’s death. I really need to go home.”

She looked out the window at the legs of the oil rig in their yard.

“Well, I can certainly see you needing to straighten out your affairs. And though a hasty wedding sounds extremely tempting, I’m not sure that’s the best solution.”

His shoulders slumped.

“Don’t misunderstand, Tony. I’m impatient, too.” She took both of his hands into hers. “But I have to think about Papa and all my friends. If I’m going to live away from them the rest of my life, then I think I should stay here for just a few more weeks and plan a modest wedding where everyone will have a chance to say good-bye. I also need to tie up my loose ends at the Velocipede Club and prepare Shirley to take over.”

“Are you going to change your mind about marrying me?”

“No.” She squeezed his hands. “In three weeks, I will be yours and I will go wherever you go.”

Pulling her to her feet, he kissed her. Roughly, deeply, right there in the kitchen where anyone could walk in.

“I love you, Essie.”

Throughout the next three weeks, she found that her hometown, the town that was as much a part of her as her right hand, no longer held the luster it once had. Not without Tony in it.

She sought out Anna’s company more than anyone else’s because she somehow felt closer to Tony when she was with Anna.

But Anna was a new bride herself and busy settling in with Ewing, whose injury had not hindered the honeymoon at all, she guessed, considering how happy the two of them looked whenever she caught sight of them.

And this last week had been nothing short of miserable for her. Why, oh, why hadn’t she told Tony to come for her sooner?

But finally her wedding day had arrived. And Tony would be coming in on the ten o’clock train. Even then, though, she wouldn’t be able to see him until the ceremony. She didn’t for one minute believe in bad luck or good luck or any such nonsense, but Mrs. Lockhart had been adamant. In
Clarabel’s Love Story
, Clarabel had seen her groom before the wedding, and that marriage had lasted only three days.

Dragging her hope chest into the center of the bedroom, Essie ran her hand across the ornate wooden trunk. She’d been ten when her mother began filling the box with family heirlooms that would be Essie’s when she married.

She slowly lifted the lid. Her grandmother’s white-on-white embroidered bedspread, some lace tablecloths, and curtains all lay folded and wrapped in tissue. From her great-grandmother, she had a full set of silver tableware with engraved handles. From Aunt Verdie, a cut-crystal punchbowl and cups.

Linens hemmed and embellished by Mother and by Essie’s own hands lay underneath handkerchiefs, tea towels, and hosiery. Chemises, corset covers, and dressing sacques.

And on the very top, her nightdress. Made especially for her wedding night. The tissue crackled as Essie folded it aside and lifted the gown from the chest. Tiny white rosettes were sprinkled among three rows of rice stitches decorating the neckline. Lace trim ran along the sleeveless straps. Only one delicate ribbon held the garment closed.

She slipped her hand beneath the bodice, disconcerted to find the gossamer fabric so sheer, so clingy. She swallowed. She’d only worn this gown once before. The night she’d decided to remain unmarried for the rest of her life. The night she’d decided to have her Lord and Savior as her one and only Groom.

And yet now He’d sent her a flesh-and-blood groom. One who would give her children. Who would grow old with her. Who would see her in this gown this very night.

I’m glad I wore it for you first, Lord. Because even though you’ve sent me a groom, you will always be first. In my heart. In my marriage.

In my life.

Four hours later, after the ceremony and wedding meal, Tony waited for his wife at the bottom of the stairs. Her bedroom door opened, but it was Mrs. Lockhart who came out. He smiled again at her bright purple gown with pink trim, then took the steps two at a time to assist her descent.

“I’m still unhappy with you, sir,” she said as he slipped his hand under her arm. “A bride should be taken on a train to Niagara Falls for her wedding trip.”

“Essie didn’t want to go to Niagara Falls,” he said.

“Doesn’t matter. You’re the man. You’re the one who should be deciding these things.”

“And I did decide. I decided to take her to Enchanted Rock in Llano County.”

“On a bicycle!”

They reached the bottom of the steps, and Tony smiled at the woman who’d taken him under her wing the very first time she’d seen him.

“Not ever,” she continued, “not even in one of my novels, have the bride and groom traveled away on a bicycle.” She leaned in close and whispered, “Where on earth will you spend the night? You can’t think to be with your bride for the first time on nothing more than a bed of grass!”

He tweaked Mrs. Lockhart’s nose. “I shall not discuss such things with you, ma’am. For shame.”

“Well, someone needs to talk some sense into you. It’s not too late,” she said, squeezing the sleeves of his jacket. “You can send your friend with the bullwhip to the train station right quick to secure you some tickets.”

The bedroom door opened again. Anna, Shirley, and Mrs. Dunn came out of the room backwards, hovering in front of Essie. Finally she came into view and his heart sped up.

Her bicycle costume was the same blue as her eyes, her straw hat surprisingly simple, with a wide ribbon band that matched her outfit. He took an involuntary step toward her.

She placed her gloved hand on the balustrade.

“Wait,” he said, then patted the rail. “This way. I want you to come to me this way.”

Mrs. Dunn gasped.

Smiling, Essie hopped onto the banister and, with bloomers ruffling, slid straight into Tony’s waiting arms.

“Hello, Mrs. Morgan,” he said, pulling her against him.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Morgan.”

He kissed her firmly on the lips. “Are you ready?”

“I am.”

He lowered her to her feet. She hugged the women good-bye. The sheriff, judge, and preacher stepped into the foyer. Anna kissed Tony’s cheek, then moved next to Ewing while Essie’s uncle enfolded her into his arms.

“Be careful, Essie-girl,” he said. “Do you have your pistol?”

“Yes,” she said, pulling back. “We’ll be fine.”

Turning to her father, she stepped into his embrace.

“Ah, Squirt,” he said. “I wish your mother could have seen you today. You were the prettiest bride I ever did see.”

Lifting up on tiptoes, she kissed his cheek. “I’m the happiest bride you ever did see.”

He squeezed her tight, then let her go and held out his hand to Tony. “Take good care of her, son.”

“I will, sir. And we’ll come back through Corsicana on our return trip toward the end of the month.”

“I’d like that.” He sighed. “Well, you have a passel of folks out there waiting for you. Y’all’d best get going.”

Tony offered Essie his arm and opened the door.

They stepped out onto the porch. The yard and street were full of wedding guests. Friends of his. Friends of hers. Friends of their families. They cheered and whistled.

Clasping Essie’s hand, Tony looked at her. “Here we go.”

They ran down the steps and walkway under a shower of rice. Russ opened the gate and they rushed through.

“Oh, Tony!” she exclaimed. “It’s a
side-by-side
bicycle built for two!”

“That’s right,” he said, helping her mount. “I don’t want you in front of me or behind me. I want you right beside me. On our wedding trip and for the rest of our lives.”

He kissed her, amazed that if his father hadn’t disinherited him, he would never have come to Corsicana. Would never have met Essie.

At the time in his life when he thought he had nothing, when he thought his cup was empty, his heavenly Father was selecting the finest of wines to pour into Tony’s cup until it overflowed.

Essie pulled away slightly and flushed. The whistles and hoots of the crowd penetrated Tony’s consciousness as folks on the street parted for them, waving, calling out good wishes and throwing the last of the rice.

Winking at Essie, Tony took a quick glance behind them to be sure their clothing and supplies were still secured to the machine, then jumped onto his seat and pushed off.