Garters.htm (41 page)

"I don't anymore," he said. "When I saw you this evening, my proud, imposing Esme, who knows she's just as good as everybody else, trying to hide her light under a bushel of meaningless manners, I knew you loved me."

Reaching for her, he pressed her tightly against his shirt as if he wanted to fuse her self with his own. "Nothing but real, true love could have made you humble yourself."

"I am humble! I failed you," Esme whispered against his chest. "I've embarrassed you in front of your friends. I know how much their opinion matters to you."

Cleav shook his head. "No, you don't, Esme," he said. "Because it doesn't matter. You love me for myself. That's a hundred times more fulfilling than having the whole world love me for something I can pretend to be."

"Oh, Cleav," Esme wailed. "You deserve to have a lady, a real lady."

Cleav smoothed her brow with one long finger.

"I have a lady, Mrs. Rhy," he whispered. "I have you."

"I'm no lady! You saw that tonight."

"You
are
a lady, and you always have been. I saw that one morning in church."

"In church?"

"The day they gave your family that charity basket," he said. "We humiliated you. But you never cowered or cried or hid your face. You raised your chin and just looked right past us. You knew you were as good as anybody. And you've taught me that I am, too."

His lips found hers, and he tasted her gently.

"All this to-do about being civilized and proper," he said. "It's kept me in a stew for too many years. Finery and genteel conversation don't make us ladies or gentlemen. City folks have their ways and we have ours. When we try to be what we're not, we only shame ourselves."

"You mean you want me to be just Esme Crabb?"

Cleav smiled. "I want you to be Esme Rhy," he said. "I want you to be the lady that I love."

He kissed her then, and the sweetness was such that Esme couldn't let it go. She answered his lips with urgent exploration of her own.

Their bodies strained against each other in passion both remembered and renewed. Esme felt the now familiar warmth melting her loins, and she eagerly squirmed to meld that fire against the evidence of his response.

"I love you," Cleav whispered. "I've wanted to tell you that every day, every time I've touched you. I've wanted to say it and now I can't stop."

"I love you, Cleav," Esme answered. "I don't know if it was that first day in the store or later when I got to know you. But I couldn't live without you, and I would have done anything to keep you, to help you, to make you happy."

"Even pretend to be something you are not," Cleav said accurately.

"I'd swim like a fish if it was what you wanted," she declared.

Cleav's smile was naughty. "Swimming was not quite what I had in mind," he said. "But if I take you upstairs, will you promise to wiggle like a trout out of water?"

Esme giggled and then shook her head reprovingly. "Only if you promise to give me another of those no-hands fish looks."

"Can't promise that, ma'am," he answered. "Tonight I'm planning to put these hands all over you."

"Well," Esme suggested. "How about prissy talk? Can I expect some of that at least?"

"My dear Mrs. Rhy, I vow to eloquate with such magnificence that you will find yourself incapable of resisting supine repose for the remainder of the evening."

"Mmmm," she replied appreciatively.

Cleav grasped her hand, and they hurried to the house like eager children.

"Wait" Esme hesitated at the doorway. "Can we go upstairs?" she asked him. "We have guests in the house."

"Mrs. Rhy," he said smoothly. "In this house
you
make up the rules of etiquette. What do you deem proper?"

Esme was thoughtful for only a moment.

"Our guests might be scandalized," she told him. "And I always try to keep a watchful eye on Pa and the twins."

Cleav acquiesced easily. "Whatever you think, Mrs. Rhy."

Esme's thoughtful expression slowly became a confident grin. "But I think I've been taking too much care of my family," she said. "It's time that Pa and the girls start facing the world all on their own."

"Now, that's a very good idea," Cleav said.

"And your gentlemen friends from up north should really get some opportunity to find out about real Tennessee people."

Cleav nodded. "So we go straight upstairs?"

As if suddenly remembering what happened, Esme sighed in dismay. "No, after making such a fool of myself, I'd better go back in there and face them tonight."

Cleav placed a strong arm around her waist and grinned at her.

"Just stick close to me, Mrs. Rhy," he said. "It's a husband's right to rescue his wife from social blunders."

"Who made that rule?"

"I did," he replied easily.

Esme walked nervously beside her husband as they entered the house. The company had left the dining room for the informality of the back parlor, and she could hear Pa fiddling a happy tune.

Reaching the doorway, she saw the twins gleefully instructing the gentlemen from up north on the proper steps of mountain clogging. There was much laughter and clapping, and the two somewhat bookish gentlemen were clearly having the time of their lives.

"Excuse us," Cleav interrupted their revelry.

Every eye focused on them, and Esme felt her courage drifting away. Only the strength of Cleav's arm kept her beside him.

"My wife and I would like to apologize for our abrupt departure from dinner," Cleav began civilly.

"Quite all right," Theo said eagerly.

"We're perfectly fine," Ben insisted.

"Wonderful," Cleav replied with a pleasant smile. "Do go on and enjoy yourselves,'' he said."Mrs. Rhy and
I
must retire early, it seems."

Esme glanced up at her husband in surprise.

Cleav smiled at her before he said calmly, "You may find this difficult to believe, but my wife and I have both suddenly developed an unprecedented infestation of fleas."

March 12, 1898

Theodatus G. Simmons

Springfield, Massachusetts

My dear brother-in-law Theo,

As always, we enjoyed receiving your missive, especially the good news of your addition. Esme sends her love to your new son and our dear Agrippa with hopes for an eventless recovery.

I accepted the salutation on your last letter as jest. Believe me, the degree is strictly honorary and I certainly have not taken to calling myself Dr. Rhy, despite the governor's fine words about my modest contribution to natural science.

Esme and I did, however, truly enjoy the trip to Knoxville. After so many years it was quite strange to return and discover things so unchanged and yet so different from the memories
I had held. Esme charmed the dignitaries, one and all. I believe the headmaster at Halperth Academy was near ready to write odes to her eyebrows. As per usual, my dear wife remains unaffected by the unique effect her wit and humor have upon the male species.

Esme wanted me to be sure to mention to Agrippa that Reverend Tewksbury has retired and his son-in-law, Reverend Hightower, is now pastor of the church. The new reverend was a friend of the twins when they were children. The man is actually a very exceptional preacher. I was quite surprised myself, but Esme was not. She assures me that the worst sinners always make the best preachers.

Yohan is doing better now that the weather is warming up. The cold bothers the arthritis in his knee, but he rarely complains. He continues to talk about his visit to Ben and Adelaide in Washington, D.C. Meeting President Cleveland and playing with the gentlemen of the symphony now figure largely as the highlight of the old man's life.

Mother is doing well, the twins keep her busy. Not just playing with them but replanting all the flowers those two manage to trample.

I'm sure you heard the story about when the boys were born and Esme named them Herbert and Hubert. I felt, and continue to feel, that the names are far too prissy for a couple of Tennessee storekeeper's sons. Esme disagreed with me completely and declared that I knew nothing about naming children. She stated before the whole company at the visiting that were I to name the boys I'd undoubtedly call them Catfish and Crappie. To her horror the names stuck. She was especially disheartened when the boys returned from their first day at school with their nicknames written neatly on their slates.

I do hope that perhaps late in the summer you will come again to visit us. The trout spawning was extremely successful this year, and I am eager to show you my new design for races.

I must cut this letter short as the boys are waiting upon me. We are doing a little project together this spring. I'm allowing the boys to help me repaint the house. White is such a lifeless color, I've decided it should be blue. In the mountains there is just simply not enough sky.

As ever,

Cleav