Levi (Prairie Grooms, Book Five) (3 page)

“Let me see,” she said as she raised a hand and tapped her chin with a finger. “What sort of name befits one such as you?”

“One … such as me?”

She looked him up and down. “Yes; now be quiet so I can think.”

He ignored her and started to put food on her plate. It didn't take long to fill it, and once he did, he returned to where she stood. They were not the only two at the tables getting food. “You’re in the way,” he informed her.

“I'm still thinking.”

He took her by the arm and gave her a gentle tug. “Let's go find a place to sit.”

“If we must.”

She was beginning to sound like her old self again. Good. He led her to the table set aside specifically for them, and pulled a chair out for her.

She looked at it, then at him. “Why, thank you,” she said with a hint of surprise.

“I'm not without manners.”

She sat. “I didn't say you were.”

He set the plate in front of her. “I'll return in a moment.”

“Where are you going?”

“To get some food, what else?”

“Oh, yes, of course. That will give me time to think up a name for you.”

“I'm agog with anticipation,” he said dryly.

“You should be.”

He narrowed his eyes, ever so slightly. Perhaps her being back to her old self wasn’t so great after all. He almost dreaded the moment he returned to their table. Almost.

Three

Several hours later, Fina found herself sitting on a wagon seat next to Levi. The rest of the day had flown by and, before she knew it, the goodbyes were said, hugs from her sisters and cousins given, and she and her new husband were on their way home.

Home. What would it be like? Was it like Chase and Lena’s cabin? Or a quaint farmhouse like August and Penelope's? What if it was like Constance and Ryder’s dwelling? Fina shuddered at the thought. She couldn't imagine living in such a small place. But enough of houses; they’d been rolling along for a good half-hour and Levi hadn’t said a word. Was he angry, or quieter than she thought? “How long will it take us to get home?” she asked to break the silence.

He glanced at her. “I'm only half an hour on the other side of town. From here, I think it will take us an hour.”

She fumbled with the skirt of her dress, nervous about her next question, but had to know. “We received some lovely gifts today. Will they go well with the house?”

Now he looked at her. “The house?”

“Match? You know, look well together?”

“If you're asking if the quilt you got from Grandma and Mrs. Mulligan is going to look good in my house, then I suppose so. I don't pay much mind to that sort of thing.”

“You live there, don't you? How can you not pay it any mind?”

He shrugged. “I'm not a woman.”

“What has that got to do with it? August Bennett decorated his entire home before he married my cousin, Penelope.”

“I am not August Bennett,” he said flatly.

“No, I can see that you're not. But it doesn't mean you can't have taste.”

He rolled his eyes in amusement. “Look, Fella, I hope you're not the kind of woman who's in the habit of comparing her man to everyone else's, because I’ll tell ya right now, that will annoy me.”

Her hackles went up and her back arched in response. “Well, I had no intention of

annoying you.”

“You're not annoying me… Yet.”

She stiffened. “If I had known a simple question would be such a bother to you, I never would've asked.”

“What did you ask?”

Fina's mouth dropped open in shock as she gasped. “You know very well what I asked, Mr. Stone!”

“Ah, yes, now I remember. You asked if the quilt Grandma gave you would look well on our bed tonight.”

“That is
not
what I asked!”

“Yes, you did. And I'm answering. And yes, it will look quite lovely on our bed, especially with you under it.”

Fina’s face flushed red. “What are you saying?”

Levi chuckled. “I'm saying I'm looking forward to tonight.” He leaned toward her with his signature, devilish grin. “Our
wedding
night?”

If Fina’s cheeks grew any hotter, she'd melt. “Oh. That. I’d quite forgotten about it.”

“I didn't.”

“I didn't figure you for the type who would,” she said as she sat up straighter. Her face, at this point, positively flamed. She faced forward and fought the urge to look at him, knowing full well that grin of his would be plastered across his face. She swallowed hard. “Would it be too much to… ask for a … postponement?”

He pulled back on the reins, and brought the team to a stop. “A what? You want a postponement, for our
wedding
night? Are you plum loco?”

Now she’d done it. “I think it a reasonable request, considering I hardly know you.”

“May I point out that we’re married?”

“You may, but it's not going to do you any good. I can't very well… sleep with someone I don't know. It wouldn't be proper.”

“We're married!”

“As clear a fact as that may be, I would still like to postpone our wedding night.”

“This isn't a transaction you can cancel,” he pointed out, his face flushed.

She turned on the seat and looked at him. “And if our positions were reversed, wouldn't you be asking for the same thing?”

He stared at her, dumbstruck, before he started to laugh. As his laughter grew, she decided she liked it much better when he sat and stared at her like an idiot. Obviously, it was time to switch tactics. She waited for him to calm down and looked at him, her face an expressionless mask.

“What's the matter with you?” he asked through his chuckles. “Other than you didn't want to marry me.”

She started at his words. “Let's not start that again.”

He studied her a moment. “You know, you’re harder to figure out than I first thought.”

“Good. That's one point for me.”

“Point? That's not a point.” He gave the horses a slap of the reins, and they were off again.

“It most certainly is,” she said, happy she’d found something with which to distract him from the topic of their wedding night. “That makes it an even score.”

He gave her a teasing glare. “I'll let you have this one, but from now on, I’m not going to be so generous.”

“Fair enough. The score is one to one.”

“I'm still not giving in on postponing our wedding night.”

She snapped her mouth shut. His voice had a level of authority in it she’d not heard before, and it shook her to the core. “Surely, you don't expect me to…”

“You're really serious about this, aren't you?”

Fina balled her hands into fists to try and get a hold of herself. Why was he affecting her like this? She knew he had every right to consummate their marriage on their wedding night, but the thought frightened her. After
that,
there would be no turning back. She would belong to him, completely and fully.

“What's the matter, Fella? Cat got your tongue?”

“Of course not,” she said trying her best to keep her voice even. “The idea of it makes me nervous, that's all.”

“That's natural. I would imagine all brides feel the way you do right now.”

“Not the ones who've had a chance to get to know their husbands first.”

He said nothing and continued to drive. After a few moments he finally spoke, “I'll give you a week.”

“Two weeks.”

“Eight days.”

“Nine.”

“Done.” He brought the wagon to a stop and turned to her. “Nine days, Mrs. Stone,” he leaned toward her even further, “unless I can convince you otherwise.”

Fina leaned back as far she could, without losing her balance and falling off the wagon seat. She stared into his face and, much to her embarrassment, audibly gulped, “Deal.”

Levi wrapped an arm around her, but not to draw her in for a kiss as she thought he might. Instead, he pulled her upright. “Well,” he said, “at least we agree on one thing.”

* * *

Levi didn't speak a word the rest of the way, and it made Fina more than a little nervous. She had nine days in which to feel comfortable enough to consummate their marriage. Nine days? She knew couples in England whose engagements lasted more than two years! How was she ever going to get to know this man in nine days?

“We're almost there,” he said, making her jump.

“Oh! We are?”

She saw him watch her out the corner of his eye. “I hope you're not expecting much,” he said, “because what I got isn't.”

As if against her will, her shoulders slumped in disappointment, but she quickly straightened them. “I'm sure I'll make the best of it,” she said, chin up.

“Really?” he drawled.

Was he smirking? “If Constance can do it, so can I,” she stated with confidence.

“Do what?”

One of her hands balled into a fist. If she were a man, she'd be tempted to hit him. “Live in a hovel.”

“Hovel?” he laughed. “Are you calling my house a hovel?”

“Isn’t it?”

“It's nothing of the sort.”

“That's two points!”

“Points? That didn't earn you any points!”

“I got the truth out of you, didn't I?” she said smugly.

He turned and stared at her, his eyes narrowed, and she could see by his expression he was weighing her words. “One point,” he finally ground out. “It wasn’t worth two.”

“I disagree.”

“What?”

“You heard me. I disagree. The way I see it, since I figured out a way to get you to tell me that your home, in reality, is anything but a hovel, then I'd say I've learned something about you
and
that it should be worth two points.”

He pushed his hat back, his mouth half-open in exasperation and, much to her delight, said nothing.

Fina smiled. “Two points.”

“Fine,” he ground out. “Two points.” He turned to her. “But I guarantee I’ll find out things about you by the end of the day.”

Fina smiled again. “I wish you the best of luck.”

“Luck? You think I'm going to need luck? Don't think to keep yourself from me. That would be cheating.”

“I have no intention of cheating,” she told him, her voice haughty. She boldly stared at him.

He narrowed his gaze, brought the team to a halt and, without taking his eyes from her, said, “Your hovel, milady.”

Fina turned, and gasped.

This was no hovel. Of course, it wasn't as big as the Triple C, but she was sure it wasn't as small as Constance and Ryder’s place. What it was was a simple, two-story, saltbox home. Fina continued to stare. Levi had painted the house white, its window frames and shutters a light gray. Behind it sat a barn of moderate size, also white, a much smaller structure, a corral, and the privy; all white with gray trim.

“Nothing to say, Mrs. Stone?” he drawled in her ear.

She glanced at him. “I admit it's not what I expected.”

“I didn't think it would be, therefore, I do believe I just scored a point.”

“You did no such thing.”

“Now, now, let's be fair about this. As I anticipated the reaction you just had, then you must concede the fact that I know something more of you.”

“Tell me again where you're from?”

He smiled. “Boston, born and raised.”

“That explains your eloquence of speech.”

“Does it? For all you know, I simply read a lot.”

She smiled back. “Then you must house quite a library.”

He ignored her comment. “Let's see, I do believe the score is now evened up; two to two.”

She drummed her fingers on her reticule. “Very well, I'll let you keep this one. But like you, I’ll not be as generous from now on.”

“I can live with that,” he said and set the brake. He climbed out of the wagon then came around and helped her down. It was all she could do to hide her excitement over the house. It really was quite lovely, and she was glad to see that the yard was well-kept, and hoped the rest of his place looked as nice.

He went around to the back of the wagon to unload it. She watched him a moment and decided she’d better help. “Here, let me take that,” she told him as he pulled out the quilt Grandma and Mrs. Mulligan had given her.

“We’ll take these in and come back for the rest,” he said. Their arms full, they headed for the house. Once on the porch, he stopped them both. “You stay here.”

“Whatever for?”

“You'll see.” He opened the door, went inside, and set down his load. He then came back and took what was in her arms and did the same with it. When he returned, she was craning her neck to look into the house. “Don't worry,” he told her. “It's clean inside. I'm not as disorganized as Chase.”

She looked at him. “That's good to know. Now what?”

“You mean, you don't know?”

“Know what?”

He shook his head and laughed. “You English,” he said and, without warning, swept her into his arms.

She let out a squeak at the sudden movement. “What are you doing?”

“We’re married, aren't we? I'm doing what's got to be done.” He lifted her in his arms, making her cry out. “So, you scream when you're startled, eh?”

“Put me down!”

“Not until after I carry you over the threshold. It's what a husband does with his wife after they’re married. Or do they not do that sort of thing where you come from?”

She stared at him with a sort of glassy look, and swallowed. “Yes, they do.”

He gazed back. “Did you not think I would carry you across?”

“To be honest, I hadn't thought of it.”

“If you ask me, when it comes to marriage, there's a lot of things you haven't thought about.”

Touché.

She stiffened in his arms. One, because he was right, and two, she’d never been held in a man’s arms before and it made her nervous. She gazed back at him, and willed herself not to cry. Perhaps she wasn’t as ready to marry a perfect stranger as she’d thought. But it was a little late to worry about that now.

“I want to carry you across this threshold as my wife,” he said, his voice soft.

The sound melted her, and she felt herself relax a notch. If she wasn’t careful, she’d start crying on the spot. “Then don’t let me stop you.”