A Chance at Love (27 page)

“Oh, of course, but nothing is done about it. My husband and others want to form a union but know they'll be dismissed if they do.”

They talked some more about Fanny's Traveling Man, as the Pullman porters were often known, then other things. For Loreli the time seemed to be crawling by.

Downstairs, Jake, tired of being told that he couldn't see Loreli until the wedding, and being bossed around by women he barely knew, sought refuge in his room. They fed him lunch, however, which raised their positions in his eyes, but they wouldn't let him walk around lest he see Loreli on her way to her bath or having her hair done, or lord knew what else. He wanted to shout that he'd already
seen quite a bit of his bride to be, but didn't. It wouldn't help. He just prayed Art would show up soon so he could have someone to commiserate with who gave a damn.

By four the guests began arriving. Loreli couldn't verify this, however, because she was still confined to her room. She was dressed at least, and in an hour, she'd be Mrs. Jake Reed. Even though the marriage wouldn't be a permanent one, she had butterflies in her stomach just the same.

When Jake was finally allowed out of his room, he and Art Gibson, his best man, were led out to the back of the house where all the guests were waiting. The black-vested suit Jake was wearing was the only one he owned. It was clean, however, as was the white shirt he had on beneath. In spite of his disagreements with his late father, Jake paid tribute to his memory by wearing his father's cufflinks; and Art would be reading from the Bible left behind by Jake's mother, the only possession of hers Jake had.

The women had transformed the backyard into an outdoor chapel, complete with a flowered bower for the bride and groom to stand beneath. Beside it stood Sheriff Walter Mack. Where the women had gotten all the chairs was a mystery to Jake, as was where all the people in the chairs had come from. This had been billed as a small affair, but in looking around, he saw half the town had chosen to attend whether they'd been invited or not. Even Rebecca was in attendance. She was seated beside Millie Tate, and both were dressed in mourning black. Jake turned away. The piano was near the bower, positioned on a large square of plywood. Jake couldn't but wonder how the brides had managed to get it outside. Loreli had bragged about how inventive the women had become as a result of
the wagon train. After seeing all that they'd accomplished here today, Jake agreed that they were remarkable indeed.

At five o'clock sharp, a young woman took her seat at the piano and began to play. It was plain that she'd been classically trained; the notes of the sonata rose on the air with a grace and beauty small-town folks rarely get to hear. Everyone listened raptly as the woman, another one of the brides, played on.

Then she stopped and began the sweet familiar notes of “Amazing Grace.” In response, the twins came out of the back door. Side by side, they stepped down the stairs and began a slow walk to the bower. Their pretty dresses and proud faces earned smiles from the guests and touched a cord inside Jake that made his eyes sting.

When they reached him, Jake leaned down and gave them each a kiss on the forehead. “You both look mighty fine.”

“Mighty fine,” Art echoed.

The girls grinned and turned to the porch to await Loreli's arrival.

She appeared moments later wearing a blue gown so beautiful that all the guests stared in awe. Low cut and sleek, it had a pleated underskirt and an overskirt that swept across and softly draped at the side. The sleeves were three-quarter length and ended in two small bows. Her matching three-quarter-length gloves fit smoothly beneath the gown's sleeves. The rich silk dress rustled as she walked down the stairs. With a bouquet of summer flowers in her hands, Loreli made her way past the assembled guests and up to the bower, where Jake and the others waited.

Loreli knew this was pretend but it didn't feel that way;
it felt real. Her heart was beating so fast, and she never remembered being this nervous before, ever. The faces of the guests were little more than blurs. The only person she could see clearly was Jake.

When she reached his side, she smiled down at the twins and then over at Art. Jake was instructed by the sheriff to take Loreli's hand, and once he did, the reading of the words began. As he came to the part in the ceremony where anyone with a beef against the wedding was allowed to stand and state their displeasure, Loreli waited for him to continue. Usually the pause generated nothing more than a few titters from the guests. Not today.

Today someone actually got up and said, “Loreli, what the hell are you doing?”

The familiar voice made her spin with dismay. Filled with shock, she stared into the smiling green eyes of the Black Irishman, Trevor Church!
What is he doing here?
Had she been a heroine in a dime novel, Loreli Winters would have fainted, right then and there.

“W
hat are
you
doing here?” Loreli snapped at Trevor.

The guests were buzzing like a beehive hit by a stick, and it didn't take much imagination to know gossip surrounding this event would occupy folks for weeks. As if he were unaware of the drama he was creating, the smiling Trevor responded by saying, “You look lovely, lass.”

“Save the blarney, Trev, and answer me,” she gritted harshly, suddenly remembering just how angry she'd been at him in Mexico City three years ago.

“Just came to see what possible reason you could have for marrying a hog farmer?”

Loreli didn't dare look at Jake. She could feel the tightness in his body. She wanted to shoot Trevor for embarrassing Jake this way.

Trevor was one of the handsomest men any of the ladies in attendance had ever seen. As he made his way from the back, they took in his smooth golden skin, his
black curly hair, and his clover green eyes. His brown vested suit fit his trim muscular body well. He was tall too, his height rivaling Jake's. Loreli didn't care about any of that; she just wanted an explanation.

Loreli finally looked into Jake's face. His jaw was tight and throbbing, his eyes on Trevor. When Jake's gaze left Trevor and slid to Loreli, the coldness she saw chilled her like a November wind.

“I've no idea what he wants,” she told him truly.

“No?” Jake's voice was as cold as his stare. “You didn't wire him to come and rescue you from the hog farmer?”

Not liking his sarcasm, she answered truthfully. “No.”

By now, Trevor had joined the wedding party under the bower. Instead of responding to Loreli's demand for an explanation, he turned a winning smile on the twins, and said, “My, what lovely young ladies. Trevor Church. At your service.” He bowed elaborately before the girls.

They giggled.

“Trevor!” Loreli snarled.

He straightened. Eyeing Jake contemptuously, the Irishman made a show of sniffing the air before he drawled, “Is that a hog I smell, or the groom?”

The guests gasped.

Jake smiled with eyes void of amusement. The fist he exploded in Trevor's face was void of amusement, too, and sent the Irishman sprawling. Blood poured from his lordly nose. On the ground now, Trevor looked at the blood staining his fingers. A brittle light of amusement filled his face. “So, the hog farmer has spunk.” Wiping at his nose, Trevor slowly rose to his feet. His eyes were focused cobra-like on Jake. “You want to fight for her?” he asked.

“Nope, she's already mine. I just want to fight you.”

Loreli couldn't believe her ears. “This is supposed to be a wedding, not a prize fight!” she told them angrily.

Paying her no mind, they began circling each other. Guests started leaving their chairs, jockeying for a good view.

“Did you hear me?” Loreli snapped.

Apparently not. In fact, Art Gibson came up behind her, and after lifting her from her feet, carried her kicking and yelling away from the combatants. As he set her down, the males in attendance hooted and howled. “Stay here,” Art commanded.

Loreli looked at him and uttered plainly, “I'm not your wife, so get the hell out of my way.”

Art was so flabbergasted he did just that, but by the time Loreli stormed back to the bower, it was too late; the fight was on.

The twins along with the other children and the rest of the female guests, including Denise Gibson and Susan Peterson, took refuge on the porch. The men on the other hand were ringing the action like spectators at a cock fight, urging Jake on, and cheering as each punch fell. For Loreli, getting through the male throng wasn't easy, but after planting some well-placed elbows and kicking some shins, a path was opened. Now, able to see, she stared wide-eyed at the sight of the two men dancing around like boxers. Jake had blood pouring from a spot over his eye, and Trevor's lips were fat and split. Before she could yell at them, Trevor launched himself at Jake and they began wrestling like Greeks, toppling the bower and knocking over the tables holding the food and plates. The male crowd roared like Romans.

Loreli spotted the sheriff standing beside Brass Barber and Matt Peterson. Hoping they could stop the fight, she pushed and shoved men aside in an effort to reach them.

“Make them stop!” she shouted at the sheriff.

The sheriff, whose attention was on the battle, yelled back over the noisy crowd, “I can't, Miss Loreli.”

“Why not?”

“It's a matter of honor.”

“But you're a peace officer!”

“But he's a man first,” Brass yelled over another loud roar.

“Your friend insulted Jake and he has to pay,” Matt Peterson added.

Loreli had never heard anything so harebrained in all her life, but realizing they'd be no help, she frantically looked around for someone or some way to put an end to this madness. That's when she spotted Elvira tied up by the corral. Forcing her way out of the crowd again, Loreli hurried over to the goat. As she approached, Elvira eyed her malevolently, but Loreli snapped, “Bite me and I swear I'll turn you into jerky!”

The goat seemed to take the threat seriously and stood patiently while Loreli undid the rope. Loreli then dragged the goat by the scruff of the neck over to the circle of cheering spectators. Smiling smugly, she slapped the goat sharply across its rump and turned her loose all in one motion. “Get 'em, Elvira!”

Elvira charged into the crowd.

All hell broke loose. Elvira Goat-Dog began butting and biting whatever she came in contact with: buttocks, thighs, flailing arms. Men screamed like little children in their efforts to escape the horned, black-and-white terror.
Those men Elvira couldn't bite right off, she chased; those she chased and caught up to, she bit. It took the goat less than two minutes to send the men running for their lives, leaving only the two combatants on the scene.

By now, Jake and Trevor were so tired, they could barely raise their hands to throw the next fist. So wild and off target were their blows, they looked as if they had been magically slowed down. Their faces were battered and bruised, and their once clean clothes sported blood, grass, and dirt. Loreli was furious with the both of them. This was supposed to be her wedding, dammit, and they'd ruined it. Yes, it was a wedding for a temporary marriage, but it was probably the only one she'd ever have. And they'd ruined it!

Loreli looked to the porch, where the women stood laughing uproariously at Elvira's routing of the men. “Beatrice, go get Elvira and tie her up. If she tries to bite you, tell her you'll turn her into jerky. That seems to work.”

“Yes, Loreli.”

Bebe took off to retrieve the goat now chasing poor Rabbit around the yard. Hot on the goat's tail was Pal.

Trevor and Jake could fight no more. They were both lying on the ground—their swollen eyes focused on the heavens, their breathing forced and harsh.

“You throw a hell of a punch, for a hog farmer,” Trevor said to Jake.

“You're not so bad yourself, for a foreigner,” Jake replied.

Loreli wanted to throttle them both. After all the chaos and gossip they'd caused, they were now going to be friends?
Men!

Jake turned his head, and upon seeing Loreli standing over him, her eyes flashing righteously, he said around his swollen jaw, “Guess we have to get married some other time.”

“If I had a gun,” she told him coldly, “I'd shoot you both!”

That said, she turned and left.

As they watched her angry march to the porch, Jake said to Trevor, “I think she's mad.”

“I think so too,” Trevor replied.

Then both men began to laugh, even though it hurt.

 

Later, a knock sounded on Loreli's door. She'd locked herself in over an hour ago. Although she was still too angry to want company, she called. “Who is it?”

Bebe's voice came through the door, “It's us, Loreli.”

Loreli walked down the staircase and threw back the bolt on the door. Their concerned twin faces deflated her anger and Loreli was instantly contrite. She had no idea how the debacle had affected them, and she'd been so wrapped up in her own self-pity, she'd failed to consider their needs.

“Are you all right, Loreli?” Dede asked.

“No, but seeing you two makes me feel better, so come on in.”

As they followed her back up the steps to her room, she asked, “Are you two okay?”

“Yes, but Mr. Barber says he's going to have Elvira arrested for biting him,” Bebe answered.

“Mr. Barber deserved whatever he got. I'm sorry my friend ruined our wedding.”

“We can have another one,” Dede said.

Bebe added, “Miss Zora and the other ladies sent everybody home. She said she'd see you in a few days.”

“Thanks, girls.”

Dede asked, “Can we change clothes now, Loreli? Our dresses are pretty, but I'm hot.”

She chuckled. “Sure, pumpkin. Just make sure you two hang them up.”

The girls nodded their understanding, then gave Loreli a hug.

“You're the best friends a girl could have.”

They grinned. She kissed them on the cheek, then they left to go and change.

Loreli finally ventured downstairs a half hour later. Art Gibson and Matt Peterson were just getting the piano back into its spot. When they looked up and saw her, both men dropped their eyes as if ashamed. “You should be ashamed,” she told them. “Where are your wives? I want to thank them for the food that we didn't get to eat.”

“Gone,” Matt Peterson confessed.

“Took the children and told us to get home the best way we could,” Art added.

Loreli thought that a very apropos punishment. “Good for them. Where are Tweedledee and Dum?”

Art pointed to the back porch.

“Thanks.” She then added grudgingly, “And thanks for bringing in the piano.”

Out on the porch, Jake and Trevor were being patched up by of all people, Rebecca Appleby and Millie Tate. Millie was working on Trevor's split lip, and Rebecca was stitching the jagged cut over Jake's left eyebrow. When Rebecca looked up and saw Loreli, she stopped and said defensively, “Since no one was here to help them—”

“You go right ahead. If I get that close, I may take an ax to them.”

Trevor said, “Aw, lassie—”

“Don't you lassie, me, Trevor Church.”

“Loreli—” Jake said.

“And I'm not speaking to you either, Jake Reed.”

He grinned, then grimaced as Rebecca pulled the stitches tight.

“Are you spoken for, gentle lady?” Trevor asked Millie.

“No,” Millie tittered.

Loreli rolled her eyes, then went back inside the house.

Upstairs in her room, Loreli took off her dress, then hung it in the armoire. She removed her shoes, her fancy stockings and garters, then donned a dress more suitable to the life she was leading now. It had been a while since she'd gotten all gussied up, and hanging up the dress reminded her of that. She had a hard time remembering the last time she'd danced or kicked up her heels. It was sometime before joining the wagon train in Chicago, she realized. Since then, there'd been no visits to gambling dens, no playing high-stakes poker, and no being feted and catered to for being the one and only Loreli Winters. Maybe it was because the wedding had been such a debacle, but she suddenly missed her old life. Here in Kansas, the days moved slow as molasses, and porch-sitting in the evening was what folks here did for entertainment. Of course, she'd known all this when she agreed to marry Jake Reed, but today for some reason, the prospect of spending the next twelve months here with a husband who'd never love her loomed heavily. Maybe Trevor's arrival was responsible for her sudden melancholy. He rep
resented her old life—a life filled with good times, good food, and good money. With Trevor she'd seen the world, and could again, but she thought about the twins. No matter Loreli's melancholy, she'd made them a promise, and one did not break promises to loved ones. Shaking off her mood, she ventured back downstairs.

Rebecca was still about, as was Mule-Faced Millie Tate. Both women were out on the porch drooling over Trevor. Loreli knew it was an easy thing to do, the man could charm the robe off a nun. However, Rebecca and Millie were babes in the wood in the world of Trevor Church, but neither woman probably knew that.

When Loreli stepped onto the porch, she asked them, “Where's Jake?”

Rebecca's eyes never left Trevor. “Out back with the twins. He's cleaning up the mess.”

Loreli planned to go see if he needed help, but first she had a question for Trevor. “When are you leaving town?”

“But he just got here,” Millie replied with a pout.

Loreli ignored her. “When are you leaving?”

Trevor, bruised and battered but no less handsome, said, “Mildred is right, lassie. With such lovely nurses about, I may stay forever.”

Loreli snorted. She knew better than to believe that. Too bad Millie and Rebecca didn't know him as well as Loreli. “Tomorrow, you go back to wherever you came from.”

“Aw, Lorie, you can't be still mad.”

“I am, Trevor, so don't test me. A lot of people went to a lot of trouble to make today special, but why should you care?”

“She's always been excitable,” he told Millie and Rebecca, “but not even she would send an old friend back into the cold cruel world in my condition.”

“If you're still here by tomorrow this time, your condition will be much worse,” Loreli corrected him.

“Trevor, I have an extra room in my shop. You're welcome to recover there,” Millie said, to Loreli's amazement.

He smiled at her. “What a lovely offer, Millie.”

Rebecca's face soured. Apparently she didn't find the offer lovely at all. “You're an unmarried woman, Millie. What will people say?”

Millie, looking cow-eyed at Trevor, replied, “I don't care, Rebecca. It's my duty as a Christian to open my home to someone in need.”