Samuel Peter Belden felt lucky. He lived in a little village upstate from the bustle of New York City, but still had the culture and excitement contained in the Big Apple at his fingertips. That is if he decided to leave the sleepy little town and seek out the pleasures and dangers within.
He was a homebody, however. It was not in his nature to seek out the fleshpots as many young men his age did. It could be because both his parents succumbed to the Asian flu epidemic, leaving him the family farm known as Crabapple Farm. He had to assume the responsibilities at a young age when others were sowing wild oats.
One regret was that he didn't have enough to go to college. Indeed, for the first few years, he barely could breathe. The pain of his parents' early death and just trying to figure out life without their guidance was difficult at best.
He soon realized he needed a job. Sleepyside Savings and Loan was hiring, and it was within commuting distance of the farm. And he was always good at ciphering, as his dad called it. He applied and to his surprise, was hired.
Apparently, old Mr. Augusta saw something in him because a year or so later, he was promoted several times and was now chief loan officer, with his own desk and telephone.
Sam began to consider taking a wife. It was rather lonely down in the hollow. The Spencers, his nearest neighbors, had moved into the huge mansion known around town as Manor House, but they weren't overly friendly. He was, after all, just a banker and they had quite a lot of family money.
I'm not too rough on the eye, he thought. He was tall and slender with the whipcord strength one develops when one does a lot of outdoor chores. His hair was as black as a raven's wing, and his eyes were as dark as molasses. A lot of the women attempted a flirtation with the handsome banker, but he was rather reserved and circumspect. It wouldn't do at all for him to respond to the overtures of clients' wives. Or the few women tellers the bank hired. Better to keep his non-existent love life out of the workplace.
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One sweltering, hot summer day towards the end of August, he was summoned to the front of the bank by a flustered teller. "Mr. Belden, Miss Van Voort his having problems getting her cash drawer open. Can you see if you can assist her? We just opened a new account, and the client is depositing some cash." The receptionist, a Mrs. Lemin, was clearly put out. The building was old, and during times as such as these, the old drawers would swell with the humidity and stick.
"I would be happy to assist." He pushed off from his desk and made his way to the teller's station. "What seems to be the problem, Miss Van Voort?" He didn't glance at all at the client waiting patiently.
"The drawer is stuck again, Mr., Belden, and I need to deposit some cash into the account Miss den Breejen has opened today."
Sam popped the drawer open and looked up into the prettiest blue eyes he had ever seen. "I'm, ah, I'm sorry for the inconvenience, Miss den Breejen." Gleeps, she was beautiful. Her hair was the color of the honey he collected from his hives and her smile lit up her face.
"It was no problem waiting for a while, Mr. Belden. I'm Beth den Breejen, and I am going to be the new English teacher at the high school."
"Welcome to Sleepyside, Miss den Breejen. I hope you'll find our little town a welcoming place," Sam smiled at her.
Beth den Breejen's toes curled. She read about it in the romance books she hid from her parents growing up; saw it portrayed in the movies she devoured in the Criterion. Mr. Belden was quite handsome, with kind eyes and a bright smile. Her spirits lifted, just a little. "Thank you, Mr. Belden. I am sure I'll be happy here."
Sam returned to his desk, a little reluctantly. It was, however, a good vantage point to watch the delectable Miss den Breejen as she completed her transaction. She was one fine figure of a woman, and Sam felt things stirring within him that he hadn't felt in a long time.
She was wearing a navy-blue suit. The jacket came in tight to her tiny waist before flaring out into a peplum. The slender, A-line skirt fell just below her knees, and she had on matching pumps. He watched as she pulled on her gloves and straightened that little nothing of a hat that graced her lovely head.
Sam frowned, a quick flash. A woman as beautiful as that must have a special gentleman friend back home. He was sure of it. Well, no use dreaming about things that can't be. He turned back to the next application he needed to vet.
The teller noticed the interest the two had in each other. She wasn't a student of human nature for nothing. "Mr. Belden is the loan officer here," she informed Beth. "He's so dreamy, like Clark Gable. He's single, though. His parents died when he was real young, and he had to grow up fast. That's why he's not over there, fighting. Last in his line. He's a good man."
Beth was startled. "He, um, seems nice. I think I'm going to like it here." She smiled at the chatty teller and took her leave. She stepped into the sunny street, looking up and down at her new town and digesting all the information the teller just blurted out.
And wondered if the very good-looking Mr. Belden was unmarried.
She walked several blocks to the charming boarding house that would be her new home. It was a three-story Victorian with a porch that invited the residents to set a spell and talk. It was being run by an older woman, a Mrs. Vanderpoel.
She was a quiet Dutch woman who recently lost her son in the war. Apparently, she had a daughter-in-law who lived outside of town, and Beth learned the younger Mrs. Vanderpoel was grief-stricken and couldn't bear to leave the house she shared with her husband, if only for a brief time.
Of course, Beth's parents found all this out as they vetted the woman and the house before Beth moved down here. Mrs. Vanderpoel only took in female boarders, and she was as choosy as Beth's parents. Although there was a long list of rules of comportment, Beth was sure she'd be happy there. At least it wasn't her parents' house any longer.
There was a certain freedom in that. And it would be doubtful she would have any gentlemen callers, at least not for a while.
Life was good. She had a wonderful job, a nice place to live and just met a man handsome enough to make her swoon. Beth gave a little twirl of happiness. Freedom!
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Beth had a couple of weeks before school started. She used that time to explore the town and meet the friendly residents, including a few of her students-to-be. Everyone was welcoming to the pretty new teacher.
In the usual manner of educators, she began to prepare her classroom for the onslaught of students in September. Beth met the other teachers in the small high school, mostly female as the war was still raging. At night, she listened to the radio Mrs. Vanderpoel had in the communal living room and all the news coming from the front.
She and a couple of the other teachers decided to grab a bite to eat at a new diner that opened right there in town. Wimpy's, it was called, after the cartoon character in the Popeye cartoons. In fact, the owner, Michael Owens, has a sign up above the grill that proclaimed, I will gladly pay you Tuesday for a hamburger today.
Beth giggled about that. The food wasn't as excellent as it would become; rationing was still in effect, and no matter how you dressed up margarine, it still wasn't butter. It was there, in the diner, that magic began to happen.
She was coming from the ladies' room, not really paying any attention to where she was going when she bumped into a solid mass of muscle. Strong arms encircled her so she wouldn't fall. "Oh, I'm so sorry! I wasn't…" Beth raised her face to look into the smiling countenance of that handsome Mr. Belden from the bank.
Her mind went totally blank.
Sam Belden was thanking the heavens above for having this little bundle of energy in his arms. He'd been thinking about her ever since they met at his bank. Not being too experienced with women, he was wondering how he could meet her again.
"Why, no harm done, Miss den Breejen. How are you? How do you like our little town?"
Beth stepped back from him, blushing a rosy red. "Hello, Mr. Belden. I'm fine, thank you. Everyone in the town has been so nice and welcoming. I'm looking forward to finally teaching in a few days."
"We are a town of friendly people. I often think there is something magical about Sleepyside, almost like that mythical village in Ireland, Brigadoon."
"Except Sleepyside doesn't appear once every hundred years or so," she said wryly.
Sam took a deep breath. It was now or never. "I would be pleased to take you around and show you all that Westchester County has to offer if you would like." There. It was sink or swim now. He held his breath, waiting for an answer.
"I would very much like that, Mr. Belden." She lowered her lashes as a new wave of rose highlighted her cheeks.
"Thank you. How about Saturday? I can pick you up in the morning, and we can take a drive, Can't go too far because of the gas rationing, but we can hit the highlights. We can go out for lunch after that."
"Saturday would be fine, Mr. Belden. I'm staying at Mrs. Vanderpoel's boarding house on Elm Street. You can come calling at nine."
"I know where it is. Mrs. Vanderpoel, the younger, is down out my way. Pity about her husband,"
"Yes, I think the war has touched every family I know. I need to get back to my friends. Thank you for the invitation, and I look forward to seeing you on Saturday." Beth stuck out her ungloved hand.
Sam placed his large, rough hand over hers and… something happened. Some kind of electrical jolt to the system that had them both widening their eyes. "It is my pleasure, Miss den Breejen. See you Saturday."
It began right there, in Wimpy's Diner. The Courting of Miss Beth den Breejen.
Beth practically floated back to her table, full of giggling teachers who had eagle eyes on the discourse between the handsome banker and their newest member. She was greeted with quite a bit of good-natured ribbing from the others and a little envy, too. Sam Belden was considered quite a catch in Sleepyside.
And pretty little Beth den Breejen just landed the big one.
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Sam Belden found himself wishing the days away. To save gas, he bicycled in for the rest of the week, arriving early in the morning and changing in the facilities at work. Gosh, she was pretty and nice! He wished his dad were still alive so he could ask advice. How did one go about making a good impression even better?
Beth was also excited and very nervous. She'd gone out on a few dates before, and mostly in groups with her friends. Her parents were old-fashioned and had a laundry list of rules boys had to observe.
This was her first, real adult date, alone with a man. Oh, she wanted to tell her mother, but she kept that secret clutched close to her bosom. Beth was aware that her parents would be down to Sleepyside in an instant to vet Samuel Belden.
And for once, she needed to make her own choices.
Instead, she wrote a long, chatty note to her parents and mentioned nothing at all about her impending date. She did, however, inform Mrs. Vanderpoel that she had a gentleman caller coming. When Beth mentioned Sam's name, Mrs. Vanderpoel smiled and patted Beth's hand.
"Sam Belden is a good man, Beth. One of the best. He goes out of his was to help others. My daughter-in-law lives out of town, not too far from him. She doesn't drive, and he picks her up occasionally and brings her to town."
When Saturday dawned, Beth was in a panic. Was she overdressed? Underdressed? She looked at herself in the small mirror in her bedroom. A shirtwaist dress in her favorite blue, with a white Peter Pan collar and elbow length sleeves, cuffed in the same white. White buttons marched down the front, and her waist was cinched by a dark blue belt. On her head was a small hat with a veil, and she splurged and used her silk stockings. Were the seams straight?
Completing her toilette were a small handbag and a pair of peep-toe pumps. She needn't have worried. She looked breathtaking. As the clock inched towards nine, she waited for Sam Belden to come calling. Mrs. Vanderpoel advised that Beth should await Mr. Belden's arrival in her room and make a grand entrance when he was announced. It seemed kind of silly to Beth, but she listened to the advice. And now, she was listening for Sam Belden's deep voice.
Sam drove up to Mrs. Vanderpoel's Boarding House for Women and sat in the old Studebaker. It belonged to his parents, and he kept it shiny and repaired. He ran a finger along his collar, nervous but anticipating seeing her again.
He grabbed to small bouquet he picked from his mother's flower garden. It was not as well-maintained as when she was alive, but he tried. He had on a lightweight summer suit in blue, a white collared shirt, a matching blue tie, and a white handkerchief peeked out of his pocket. Straightening his tie, he stepped out of the car with his charming flowers, tied with a blue ribbon – because it matched her eyes.
Sam rang the doorbell and waited. The inside door was open, and the screen door let in the soft summer breeze. "Mr. Belden. Come in, I'll go tell Miss den Breejen you're here." Mrs. Vanderpoel opened the door and smiled.
"Thanks, Mrs. V," he replied and followed her to the parlor. Thank goodness none of the other ladies were about!
"You wait here," she commanded as if he had any thought of following her upstairs.
Mrs. Vanderpoel climbed the flight of stairs and knocked on Beth's door. "Your young man is here." She barely had the words out before Beth was at the ready. "He is in the front room."
Beth descended the staircase slowly. She was so giddy, she thought if she walked any faster she just might trip over her own feet. Sam heard her hesitant footsteps and turned, his breath catching in his throat.
She was so beautiful, it almost hurt looking at her. Dark eyes locked with baby blue and the world faded away.
Beth thought he was the most handsome man she ever saw, even better than those actors in the movies. And he chose her! He stepped over to the staircase, helping her down the last step or so.
"You look wonderful." He wished he had a facility for words.
"You look handsome yourself." Beth blushed as she said it.
He remembered the flowers. "I brought these for you. They're from my garden, Miss den Breejen."
"Beth. Oh, they're beautiful. I love daisies. Thank you, Mr. Belden."
"Sam, please."
Mrs. Vanderpoel was charmed by the scene playing out in her parlor. My, it was better than those serials! "I'll take those and put them in a vase for you," she told Beth. "You can bring them to your room when you get home. Go on, the day's a-waiting!"
They both chorused their thanks as Sam opened the door for Beth and escorted her to his car, opening the door and closing it as she pulled on her gloves. It was finally happening.
Their date.
Sam turned to her, his hands on the steering wheel. "Well, I guess I don't have to show you the high school, Wimpy's, or the bank."
She giggled. "No, I think I'm very familiar with those landmarks, Sam." His name tasted good on her lips.
"Well, I think we should start in town square. If you look up, you'll see a grasshopper weathervane we call Hoppy. It's tradition to greet him with a 'hello, Hoppy' when you're in the square."
"What a charming little story. Hello, Hoppy!" she called out of the open window. He felt a thrill, right down to his toes. This fun-loving, kind, and beautiful woman was with him!
Sam took her around town, pointing out various locations and trying to orient her to the village. "Right over there is the train station. You can take the train right into New York City if you're so inclined. They run several trains a day. A lot of people a leaving the city and settling in Westchester County. The air is cleaner, and it's a good place to raise a family."
"Oh, I didn't realize we were so close to New York City. I've never been there. It looks fabulous when you see it in the movies or the newsreels."
Sam shrugged. "It's a nice place to visit. Go to a museum or a Broadway show, or even a first-run movie. It's nice to walk around it. But I like Sleepyside just fine."
"So do I. Bit, I think it would be fun to go for a visit. Maybe see the Statue of Liberty. She's on all my bonds, you know."
"We'd have to go during the day, Beth," Sam said without thinking. "They don't illuminate it at night any longer due to the blackouts."
"I'd love to go sometime with you, Sam. Maybe we could make a day of it."
"I'd like that, Beth."
"Where to now, Sam?"
"I thought we'd drive to see the Tarrytown Light. It's a beautiful lighthouse, right on the river. Nice walk, too. Afterward, I made reservations for lunch at the Glen Road Inn. I hope that's okay with you."
"It sounds perfect!"
They spent the remainder of the morning driving to Sleepy Hollow, where the lighthouse was located, It was a squat plug of a building right there on the Hudson, still in operation. "I heard they're planning to build a bridge here or in Dobbs Ferry. Pity to ruin the view," Sam remarked.
"The Hudson looks so calm. You wouldn't think there was anything dangerous at all under those placid waters."
"The river is full of hidden dangers. There are shoals right near the lighthouse on the Eastern side here. Up near Sleepyside, the currents can be swift and deadly. Did you know a female pirate named Sadie once plundered ships and villages along here?"
"I didn't Sam! Just goes to show you how deadly females can be."
Sam glanced at his watch. "We best be getting back to Sleepyside, or we'll miss our reservation." He tipped his fedora to a couple of giggling schoolgirls, making them giggle all the more. And in that one instant, that little gesture that made the day of two young ladies, Beth felt herself falling right into love. Here was a man who was witty, kind, and oh, so very male. It bloomed in her, a bud awakening to Sam's sun.
The Glen Road Inn was a converted Victorian mansion. "Oh, how lovely!" Beth exclaimed when she first saw it. All fancy gingerbread over the porch, where white rockers were stationed inviting guests to sit for a while and enjoy the gorgeous country.
"It is, isn't it? It reminds me of my next-door neighbors, the Fraynes. They have a similar style of architecture. The property is called Ten Acres."
"Ten Acres? That's unusual."
"I don't think whoever named it had flights of fancy," Sam responded wryly. "The property consists of Ten Acres. The Fraynes are local gentry. Nell and James. They are well-off, but salt-of-the-earth types. A young couple, our age. James' mother lives with them. His father died during The Great War." Sam shook his head.
"So sad. And here we are, at war again." That was one of the reasons Beth was teaching. There was an enormous teacher shortage, and the state allowed her to take an alternate route to obtain her teaching certificate.
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Beth's parents were none too happy. She loved them dearly, but they had her life all mapped out. They even had a suitor chosen for her, the son of their best friends. While the couple was nice enough, their son was a grabby, self-absorbed thinks-he-is-a-ladies'-man type. He even tried to corner Beth at a party.
And he rejoiced in his 4-F status. Beth thought that he manufactured something to weasel out of serving his country, and despised him for it.
Of course, when she told her folks, they were sure she was just misconstruing his actions. "You're a pretty girl," her mother told her. "And he's a man, honey. He just wanted a kiss."
Well, Beth thought, I didn't want to give him one. Don't my wishes count?
Her parents did acquiesce, with a bit of reluctance to pay for her college education at Nazareth College in Pittsford. It was an all-female school, and they felt she wouldn't be tempted there. The war interfered, though, and Beth, talking to a trusted advisor, realized she had a way out.
And here she was, sitting in a charming restaurant with a handsome man. A man who listened to her, her opinions, and treated her like a lady. It was a heady experience for an unsophisticated young lady.
The Inn was bustling, but the conversation was muted, Tables were set far enough apart so that diners could have private conversations. A few war posters were scattered about, reminding patrons that Loose Lips Sink Ships and urging citizens to Buy More War Bonds!
Sam was utterly captivated by the beautiful, intelligent woman sitting across from him at their small table. She was lively, with a quick wit and a flashing smile. During their time together, he learned a little about her home life. She wasn't one to blather on and on about injustices. Instead, she moved to a town far from home and without knowing a single person. You had to admire the courage it took for her to do so.
Sitting there, eating their simple meal of meatloaf, mashed potatoes with gravy, and beans from the Inn's Victory Garden, Sam felt content. It was a feeling he hadn't had since his parents died. Underneath that feeling were the sparks reminding him he was a young man, and she was a gorgeous woman.
A woman he wanted to see more of, and not just in a dating way. When he found himself wondering what she looked like in a bathing suit, he flushed a little and directed his thoughts to more appropriate channels.
"School starts Monday. Are you nervous at all?" He imagined all those hormonal teenage boys would fall in love with her at first sight.
"No, I'm not. I think that this is what I was born to do, teach. I can't wait, Sam." Beth thought for a moment and added a little to her declaration. "I hope that someday I'll have a family, too. Teaching doesn't end in school, you know. It starts in the home and ends in the home." A rose flush bloomed on her cheeks. Imagine talking to a man you barely knew about… about having a family! It was scandalous.
"I agree with you, Beth. It's important that parents teach their children manners and morals and maybe just a little of readin', writin', and 'rithmetic. Not too far from my farm is a one-room school house. My father and a few of the children in my neck of Sleepyside went to school there, before the schools in town were built. When the weather was bad, their parents did the teaching."
"Sure did," Beth nodded. "How do you like working in the bank? I'm sure that must be both wonderful and terrible."
"It is. I'm the chief loan officer. You know, money is tight because of the war, and it kills me to have to say no at times. It was bad enough during the Depression when people were losing their homes and businesses left and right."
"Do people ever get angry at you? When I was student teaching, I had one family whose child, I believe, will grow up to be Al Capone or Bugsy Siegel. The kid was flunking everything and didn't care at all. The parents came in, screaming that it was our fault and that we were a horrible school. It was frightening how uncontrollable they were." Beth shuddered at the memory.
"Oh, sure. Our receptionist has even had to call the police at times. You can't give someone more money if they're defaulting on paying the money they owe." He didn't add that sometimes he gave money out of his own pocket. Most of the time, people repaid his kindness many times over.
They talked and laughed through the rest of the lunch, and were both a little deflated when it was time to leave. As Sam drove down Glen Road back to town, he pointed out some landmarks. "There's Ten Acres," he explained. "Up on the hill is Manor House. The Spencers own that, and there is a lake on the property. They are wealthy, but I'm not sure country life is meant for them. They're rarely there. Right over here is my house, Crabapple Farm."
Beth saw a delightful, rambling white farmhouse with a wrap-around porch. It appeared to be meticulously maintained, and crabapple trees abounded. The gravel driveway led to a large barn, and there were riots of late summer flowers everywhere.
"It's lovely, Sam. Do you have animals?" Beth gestured to the barn as Sam slowly drove past his place.
"We used to have a cow and some pigs, some barn cats, and a dog. Now I just have chickens, and the barn cats take care of themselves. I'd love to have another cow and a dog or two. But, I'm at work much of the day, and it's not fair to leave them alone for long periods of time."
"True. Who owns all the forest around here?"
"The Spencers own some of it, and of course, the Fraynes own Ten Acres. The rest of it is just undeveloped land. I'm kind of hoping it remains that way. I had loads of fun as a kid exploring."
"Weren't you lonely? I know I was sometimes as an only child." But then again, her parents were stricter than most.
"I was at times. As we got older, though, some of my friends would ride their bikes up to the Farm, or I'd ride into Sleepyside. We snuck into the Spencers' lake any number of times." He gave her a wicked grin. "Still do."
That mischievous grin sent shock waves through her. She wouldn't think about it. Sam, going skinny dipping. No wonder ladies in the old days carried fans.
Much too soon, Sam was opening her car door. She placed her ungloved hand in his, and it happened again. That frisson of awareness among them. She gazed into those dark eyes and was hypnotized by what she thought she saw there, a fleeting expression her brain wanted to interpret as desire.
Sam wanted her. He wanted her more than anyone or anything he ever wanted in his life. When Beth spoke of having a family, he pictured her in the kitchen at Crabapple Farm, the heartbeat of the house. Nebulous little faces sat around the table calling her Mama and him Papa.
They walked up to the door at Mrs. Vanderpoel's Boarding House. "I had a wonderful time, Sam," Beth said, breathless.
"I did, too, Beth. How about next Saturday? We can take the train to New York City and be tourists for the day."
Please, please say yes.
Her blue eyes sparkled. "I'd love to Sam. Thank you so much."
"You girls here do have a curfew, correct?"
"Yes, we need to be back here no later than eleven PM on weekends, nine on weekdays. That's unless someone is working the night shift at one of the factories."
Beth stuck out her hand to shake his. Her mother drilled it into her well: Good girls don't kiss on the first date. But she couldn't resist him, or his well-sculpted mouth. Beth went up on tiptoes and brushed her lips across his, darting inside and closing the door. Once inside, she leaned against it, blew out a breath, and began to giggle at her audacity.
Sam stood there, stunned for a moment or two. A huge grin split his handsome face, and he bounded down the steps with a spring in his step and a lightness in his heart.
He couldn't wait for next Saturday.
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Back in Pittsford, Beth's parents were hosting a dinner party for their best friends and their son. "It's amazing what you can do even though we're being rationed, Irene." Debra Olmstead complimented her friend of more than thirty years.
"It is delicious," John added his agreement. Their son, Jerald, just sat mute. The Olmsteads had two boys in quick succession. Jerald was the oldest, spoiled and mulish at best. The other son, David, was somewhere in Europe fighting the Nazis.
Joe den Breejen also agreed. He knew how hard his wife worked to make a palatable meal.
"Have you heard from Beth?" Irene inquired. "How is she doing?"
"Yes, we've had several letters from her. She says she's doing well, loves it there and is happy." Irene blew out a breath. "Joe and I really don't like her being so far away from home. But, as she said, she's doing her part at home to support the war."
Jerald piped up then, his voice a bit whiny. "Is she dating down there?" Realizing he sounded like a spoiled child, he adjusted his tone. "I'd hoped we'd be together by now." Yeah, Beth with her pretty face and delectable body. Being married wouldn't stop him from going into Rochester and visiting the seedy side of town. And she was a teacher. She could make money until his parents kicked off.
"No, not at all. She's very busy getting ready for the school year to begin."
"I don't know if I'd let a daughter of mine go so far from home," John pontificated. "Too much temptation for a pretty young girl. And too many wolves out there waiting to take advantage."
"We went down with her to Sleepyside. She's staying in a boarding house for women run by a lovely Dutch woman. Of course, we made sure the establishment was on the up-and-up. Mrs. Vanderpoel assured us she'd look after Beth as if she were her own daughter," Irene said, stung a little by the implied criticism.
"Yes, yes. We did do that. The boarding house has some rules of comportment that are strictly enforced. I'm sure Beth will comply." Joe added.
"Just where is Sleepyside?" Jerald asked. "I've never heard of it."
"Oh, it's downstate, near Sleepy Hollow and White Plains. It's a rather delightful small village." Irene smiled. "Would you like more salad?"
The subject changed, Jerald grew quiet, Maybe it was time he paid a visit to wandering Beth and bring her home. Yeah. He'd talk to his folks about either taking the car or getting money for a train. He was sure they would agree. His mother and Beth's mother wanted this more than anything.
And Jerald? He'd be glad to get a new source of funds.
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Never had Sam Belden wished the week away as he was now doing. It was the first week of school, and he wondered what Beth's classes were like and if she was happy. He made plans for their date on Saturday. The Empire State Building, the Brooklyn Bridge; walking on Fifth Avenue and Central Park. He knew she would love to see the Statue of Liberty, but unsure as to whether there would be time. He decided to give her a choice as to what sights she wanted to see on this date.
Lunch at the Automat would be fun for her. Maybe Schrafft's or Katz's Delicatessen for that authentic New York experience. It was a lucky thing Sam was frugal.
Because shortly, he thought he just might be buying some nice jewelry.
Beth was very busy during the week, getting used to the adolescents she was now teaching. In odd moments or at night, she thought about Sam and that impudent kiss. Did he think she was too forward? Maybe she was, but, oh, it was nice.
He called the boarding house phone on Tuesday to speak to her and set their date. Sam gave her a list of places to go and see and asked to consider what she wanted to do on this trip. They'd take the early train, leaving Sam's car parked at the station, and he'd be sure to have her home by curfew. "No pressure right now. Just think of what you want to do this time."
It was the this time that got to her. His unwitting slip of the tongue snaked a thrill right down her spine. Sam was planning on asking her out after this!
When she hung up and floated into the kitchen, Mrs. Vanderpoel gave her a knowing look. She'd seen that besotted look on both her son and daughter-in-law. "That was Sam," Beth announced. "He was setting the time for our date on Saturday." She sat at the table, eyes glowing.
"Sam Belden is a fine young man, Beth. You couldn't do better."
"My parents are going to be disappointed," she confided to the older woman.
"Why?"
Beth heaved out a sigh. "My mother has a best friend, someone she's been friendly with since they were young kids. Their older son has a year or two on me. It's been their wish that Jerald and I get married, ever since I was born."
"And you don't like this Jerald?"
"Not at all!" It burst out of Beth. She could finally give voice to her thoughts. "He's spoiled, rude, and selfish. I don't think he ever had a job more than a couple of weeks. He got… or maybe his parents did… declared 4-F, even though his younger brother volunteered and is serving over in Europe. He's, um, handy, too. Jerald, I mean." Beth blushed.
"He doesn't sound like much of a catch," Mrs. Vanderpoel replied. "Did you try talking to your parents?"
"I sure did. They kind of dismissed it all as being a boy."
"Hence, you're down here." Oh, Mrs. Vanderpoel understood, all right. After all, she did meet Mr. and Mrs. den Breejen. She could see they loved their daughter, but it was the smothering, possessive kind of love.
"You did right to move away, Beth. I know it's difficult to leave everything behind. You're brave for starting over on your own terms."
"To tell you the truth, Mrs. V, I don't feel brave at all. I don't even feel sad, just relieved. I'm happy here. Very happy."
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Jerald Olmstead paused in the doorway to the living room in his parents' house. Debra Olmstead was perusing a letter, probably from his brother overseas. Jerk. David was going to get killed over there, and for what?
John Olmstead was reading the paper, full of breathless propaganda about the Allies and their efforts to eradicate the Japs and Krauts. You couldn't escape it, the war, not even in the movies. The newsreels were full of happy crappy about how our boys were saving the world, and even the cartoons were polarized.
Debra heard him, looked up and smiled. "I have a letter from Dave. He's doing well. He sends his love." Deb crossed here ankles so that the little white lie wouldn't count against her in the long run. Her younger son did no such thing. But, then she knew that Jerald would not even glance at the missive.
"Yeah, well, that's what Dave would say," Jerald replied cynically. He knew his brother would say no such thing. They hated each other from the moment David was born, and Jerald went out of his way to make David's life a misery.
"Mom, Dad. I was thinking going downstate to see Beth. I really miss her."
Debra nodded. "That's a lovely idea, dear. I'm sure Beth misses everyone here at home. Some people more than others," she added archly.
Even John looked over his paper at his wayward son. The love of a woman like Beth would be the saving grace of his older boy. He'd man up, especially when the babies started coming. "How you planning on getting there?"
"Train or bus."
"Oh, no, no no." Debra shook her head. "Honey, you can't. The buses are full of a lower class of people with who knows what diseases. Same with the trains. John, we should let him borrow the car. We've been saving up our gas rationing coupons, and it's just gathering dust in the garage."
John nodded his acquiescence. "Yes, you may borrow the car, Jer. When are you planning on leaving?"
"Friday. I figure I'll go to see her on Saturday after I find a place to stay for a night or two. Who knows, I may even convince her to come back home." And if I get her in the car alone…
"Sounds like a plan. I'll get the car gassed up."
"Mom, don't tell Mr. or Mrs. den Breejen. I want to surprise Beth, and they're liable to call her."
A satisfied smirk crossed his face when his parents nodded. He was going to get Beth to agree to marry him, one way.
Or another.
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Sam settled Beth in the seat by the window. "I love trains! I always wished I could take a trip on the Orient Express with sophisticated ladies and dapper men… and murder."
He laughed at her words. "A budding Agatha Christie!"
"Oh, no, not Agatha Christie! Miss Marple. I don't want to write about mysterious strangers and murders. I want to find the bad guy and make sure he gets his just desserts."
"You know, Beth, I think you'd make an excellent detective. If they let women on the police force."
Her eyes sparkled with happiness. He didn't ridicule her or make her feel unworthy. "Thanks, Sam." She reached out and took his hand in hers, squeezed a bit.
Oh, Sam Belden was not going to let this opportunity pass him by. When she went to let go, he tightened his long fingers around hers and watched her reaction. If she appeared uncomfortable at all, he'd release her. Otherwise, this skin-to-skin contact was, well, titillating.
Her eyes widened a bit, but she didn't let go. Instead, she snuggled back in her seat, content to watch the passing scenery and holding hands with the man she was sure she was beginning to love.
Sitting there in the swaying railroad car populated by strangers, two people were wrapped up in each other, existing in that bubble of newly-discovered romance. Nothing could touch them, nothing at all.
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Jerald Olmstead was slowly driving around Sleepyside. It was another boring little town, even smaller than the one he and Beth were from. No bright lights, no big city here. At least at home, he was near Rochester. There were many pleasures to be had there for a man inclined to such. Gambling, women, jazz clubs and reefers.
The closest this little place got to any sort of shabbiness was a short street. Hawthorne was just beginning a decline into seediness. The houses weren't quite as well kept, and there was a general air of decay surrounding the place.
A lone woman was standing on a corner, hand on hip. Olmstead rolled up and stopped, gesturing to her to get in. After a quick glance, the woman complied.
"Need a ride?"
"You ain't the cops," she said.
"Nope."
They agreed on a price, and Sam drove to a secluded area. While the woman he purported to love was arriving at Grand Central Terminal in New York City, he was in the backseat of his parents' car being serviced by a lady of a certain reputation.
And he didn't see anything wrong with that at all.
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"Oh gosh, Sam, it's just like in the movies!" Beth gaped at the large crowds scurrying through Grand Central Station, as it was known locally. "I think there are more people in this place than in all of Pittsford."
"It does seem that way, doesn't it? Now, you just let me know where you want to go and I'll take you there."
"I thought it would be nice to see Macy's and Gimble's. I love the movie, Miracle on 34th Street," she replied, coloring.
"A walk along Fifth Avenue might be nice. I want to go to the top of the Empire State Building, I hope King Kong isn't making an appearance. I want to go on a subway and see the Brooklyn Bridge. Oh, so many things to do and see!"
"How about the Statue of Liberty?" Sam was enchanted by her enthusiasm.
"I think… I think that I'd like to wait on that one, Sam, until after the Allies win the war."
Sam grinned at her. "I'll make sure you do, Beth." With those six words, a frantic, fun day through Manhattan kept the two moving. Beth was stunned at the size of Macy's and giggled at the fact there was a skyway between it and their arch rival, Gimble's.
They strolled down Fifth Avenue and glanced in the windows of all the fancy stores, most having a patriotic theme in their windows. She and Sam even browsed with the swells in Tiffany's, in awe of the magnificent diamonds worth many thousands.
They took a dizzying elevator ride up to the Observation Deck of the tallest building in the world, the Empire State Building, right up to the 102nd Floor observation deck. Beth clung to Sam's hand as it appeared they were as high as the clouds and Beth could swear she saw her home town.
Lunch was at the Horn & Hardart Automat. The coffee was fresh, hot and inexpensive, and she was fascinated when Sam inserted a nickel into a slot and out popped s slice of fresh apple pie.
Later, they doubled back to Fifth Avenue and the large Schrafft's that was there. Beth was fascinated by the restaurant, staffed and run by women. They finished their dinner with a hot fudge sundae for two.
Beth sat back in her chair and grinned at Sam. "That was delicious. Honestly, I must have gained five pounds today, Sam."
Sam couldn't help it. He was a gentleman, and he respected her, but those hot, nearly blazing eyes raked her upper body. She had killer curves in all the right places, and the female in her called out to the male in him. "You're just right, Beth. Perfect."
That blistering gaze felt almost like his hands touching her in intimate places, right there in Schrafft's. A heat began to uncoil within her, deep in her core as a rose flush highlighted her cheeks. For the first time in her life, Beth knew the feeling of absolute desire.
The thrall to which both were succumbing was broken by their perky waitress bringing the bill. It's a good thing too, Sam told himself. Or else I might have jumped over the table and… He wouldn't let the tantalizing images of him and Beth doing what comes naturally invade his imagination again.
Beth glanced down at the table, suddenly shy with the man who was awakening her body and mind. All the homilies preached by her parents about what good girls did and didn't do rang in her ears.
And they didn't matter at all.
The couple decided on a leisurely stroll back to Grand Central. It was fun to people-watch, walking hand-in-hand in the most famous city in the world. News kiosks were hawking the late editions of the papers, filled with news of what was happening over there. Neither one of them wanted this magic day to end.
The conflict was accelerating everything. Men were marrying their sweethearts when they came home on leave or before they shipped out. There was a sense of urgency with the knowledge a loved one might not return.
Sam Belden had a slightly cynical attitude toward these abrupt romances and hastily arranged nuptials. He figured the clear majority of them were to scratch an itch rather than the meeting of soulmates. What would happen when all these men and women returned from war and had to settle down with someone who was almost a stranger? He figured love took time to take root and bloom.
Before he met Beth.
As they ambled down crowded Manhattan streets, Sam was doing a little bit of introspection about the bubbly, lively woman practically skipping down the street. Was he physically attracted to her?
Hell, yeah!
Were all these feelings she was stirring in him related to that male need?
Some. He had to admit that to himself. But, there were other, deeper feelings settling into bedrock in his heart and soul. He thought about the future, about Crabapple Farm. About having her there, with his name tacked on to hers. Snuggling in bed. Having children.
Living life.
Beth den Breejen was the one.
Beth's thoughts were following a similar pattern. She had the most wonderful day with Sam. He was charming, funny and oh, so… dare she say it, or even think it? Sexy. She wanted to be with him, damn the consequences.
Her mind pictured that white farmhouse nestled in the hollow outside of the town proper. Oh, she could bring those lovely gardens back to beauty. She'd plant lavender along with the resident daisies since Sam had confessed a liking for their scent. A victory garden out back. Maybe a cow or two and of course, chickens.
It was fast, and it was furious, this feeling that matured within her. She knew, just knew, that this delightful, kind man was hers.
And she was his, in all the ways a woman could be a man's.
When they reached Grand Central, and its crowds, Sam's arm snaked around her shoulders, pulling her close to the side of his body. There was no way anyone was going to separate them. His heart did a little flip when she nestled in closer.
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Jerald Olmstead dumped the broad back on Hawthorne. It was a pleasant few hours, and she was cheap, much cheaper than the broads in Rochester. They smoked a couple of reefers in between their gymnastics in the back of his parents' car, but he needed something to eat, and he was done for now.
Patty Jones watched the car roll away, before bringing her hand to her abdomen and groaning. That guy, Jerry he said his name was, hurt her. Hurt her insides in a way no other had. She crept to her room in the shabby boarding house run by the Olyphant family, the town's requisite bad guys. Her bed never looked so inviting.
Patty took some stock of her life. She left home to become an actress on the Broadway stage and somehow ended up selling her body in this crappy little town. How she got there wasn't important. Where she was going was.
There was a loud knock on her door. "I know you're in there, Patty. You'd better have the rent ready by tomorrow. Or else we'll have to figure out another way for you to repay me." The gruff voice of Oscar Olyphant came through the thin wood.
Patty shuddered in her bed. It was time to get out of Dodge. Go back upstate to her family. She only hoped they'd take her in. It would be a midnight flit, tonight. She heaved herself out of her bed and began to pack her meager belongings.
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The was a gaggle of pretty women occupying one of the booths in Wimpy's, and Olmstead just couldn't resist giving them all a big grin and a wink. They all turned from the creepy guy with the over Brylcreemed hair and sleazy stare.
It didn't bother him at all. No, because he knew underneath those prim exteriors, they all wanted him. He sat at the counter, close enough to hear their conversation, and ordered a burger and shake. Maybe he'd have a piece of that apple pie, too. He needed to replenish his energy.
As he was chowing down, he heard a familiar name. "I thought Beth would be joining us," one of the voices said.
There was a giggle from another girl. "Nope! Our Beth has a hot date today with that delicious Sam Belden. The banker."
"Really? Man, she's lucky. He's a dreamboat. I've been trying to catch his eye for months."
Jerald put down his fork and listened.
"Beth certainly did! He took her to the Big Apple. She was all excited about it. Said they were going to go sightseeing and out to lunch and dinner. She's been out with him before, you know," the giggly voice said in a conspiratorial manner.
There was a chorus of no's and when? And how do you know?
"I have the room across from Beth's at Mrs. Vanderpoel's. Sam drove her around to show her the sights her and then lunch at the Inn last week or so, right before school started. She told me he's a complete gentleman. She's so lucky!"
"Wow! They might as well be going steady!"
"It looks it's headed that way. Say, do you think we should have a poster contest for the kids? Best patriotic poster?"
Jerald Olmstead lost his appetite as the conversation in the booth veered off into school issues. Beth was dating another guy! How dare she! She was promised to him, and damn well he was going to claim her. She was acting like a loose woman, going on an all-day date in a big city like New York.
And a banker? God, he couldn't think of a deadlier dull profession, unless it was an accountant. Still, he imagined what the stuffy other man could be doing with his Beth right this minute.
It never dawned on him that he just spent several hours in the back seat of a car with a prostitute, but he was enraged at the thought of anyone touching or kissing Beth… before he had a chance. Well, he would just wait there until this Sam Belden brought Beth back to that crappy boarding house where she was staying.
He'd teach Sam Belden a lesson he'd never forget, and he'd bring Beth back home with him. Time to teach her who was the boss in this relationship.
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Sam and Beth, oblivious to the events unfolding in their little town, hated to get off in Sleepyside. Maybe if they stayed on the train, the magic would last forever. "Would you mind if we walked to Mrs. Vanderpoel's?" Sam grinned down at her. "We have the time, and it's such a beautiful night."
"I'd love that. It is pretty, isn't it?" Although it was nearly the middle of September, summer was stubbornly hanging on.
Sam slipped an arm around her, pulling her close. Yeah. This was right. She felt right, tucked next to him. Beth nestled in closer as they ambled through town, saying hello to Hoppy and waving at the few patrons in Wimpy's.
A few streets later, they were in front of Mrs. Vanderpoel's. Neither noticed the man leaning against a car on the other side of the street, smoking a cigarette and waiting, His eyes were pinpricks of red rage as he noticed the couple's intimate touch. She never lets me even touch her.
They stopped in front of the steps and turned to face each other. "I had a fabulous time, Sam. Thank you so much."
"I had a great time too, Beth."
"How about if you come over on Wednesday after work? I… I can cook you a meal. We have kitchen privileges here."
She was sure he was sick of cooking for himself. A nice, home-cooked meal would probably be welcome.
"I'd like that very much, Beth." His large hand tucked a wayward strand of hair behind her ear. His knuckles trailed across her soft cheekbone.
The intimate touch made her shiver with want. She lifted her face to his, and he gladly accepted the invitation. Their lips brushed briefly at first, a tentative kiss. Neither could deny the electricity between them and the desire that had been bubbling all day beneath the surface flashed over to full boil.
Beth's arms encircled his neck, and Sam tugged her close, so close it was a wonder if there was an atom between them. She flicked her tongue along his lower lip, and plundered her mouth, tongues tangling.
This is what they must call French kissing. It sounded kind of icky when she read about it in those forbidden romance novels, but in real life, it was making her hot. And itchy, in places where a good girl had no business being hot and itchy.
Sam was enchanted by her response, and his body was reacting to it. She tastes like hot fudge and heaven, he thought hazily. And he didn't want to stop.
They never heard the approach of Jerald Olmstead, never even knew he was there until Beth was wrenched out of Sam's warm embrace. His rough voice growled, "Just what do you think you are doing, Beth? You're mine." Just for good measure, he gave Sam a shove.
Olmstead had a grip on her arm, so tight it was going to cause bruises. "Jerald? What are you doing here?" Beth blinked a few times, trying to adjust from Sam's drugging kisses to the angry man holding her captive.
"I've come to take you back home. It's time you got over this nonsense about teaching in this backward little town. Your parents promised you to me."
Beth wrenched her arm out of his grip and began rubbing it. "Our parents may have wished we would get together, Jerald. I don't love you, and you… you don't love anything. Please leave." Her voice began to quiver, just a little, and Sam sprang into action.
He pulled Beth to his side, away from the angry man. "I believe the lady has asked you to leave." His voice was mild, but inside he was boiling.
Olmstead snorted. "Lady? Not the way you two were making a spectacle of yourselves in public. Did you let him in your bed, too, Bethy?" he sneered.
Beth's temper flared. Before she could even think, her hand shot up and slapped Olmstead across the cheek. Hard. "How dare you say that to me, Jerry?"
Olmstead didn't even think. The scarlet rage burst in his brain, overriding any sort of common sense that was lurking in the corners of his mind. "You bitch!" He raised his arm, intending to teach her a lesson. One she would never forget.
He was a brute of a man. But his arm was halted in mid-air and twisted behind his back. "You just better rethink what you were about to do, Jerald," Sam spat out. Sam gave the arm a little twist, eliciting a groan from the man. "I suggest you get in your car and go back to where you came from."
Beth was furious. "Go back home. I don't love you, Jerry. Never will. Leave me alone."
Olmstead shook himself free from Sam's grasp. What he didn't realize was Sam loosened his grip deliberately. "You're a whore, just like the rest of them. Wait until I tell your parents what you are doing, Beth. We'll end up together, anyway. And they'll be glad I'm taking damaged goods off their hands."
"Insult her one more time, and I'll lay you out," Sam ground out.
"Is everything all right here?" Officer Derrek Molinson approached the little group. Mrs. Vanderpoel had called the police as soon as she realized what was going on. Molinson was a block or two away and got there almost immediately.
Olmstead shook a finger at Sam and Beth. "Arrest them, Officer, for lewd conduct in public."
Molinson's lips twitched, but all he said was, "Lewd conduct?"
"I was kissing my girl goodnight when this… this idiot started trouble," Sam spat out.
"Well, Mr…." Molinson paused.
"Olmstead."
"Well, Mr. Olmstead, there is no law against kissing your girl goodnight. At least, not in Sleepyside."
Beth spoke up then. "He grabbed my arm, Officer." She proffered her bruised extremity. "Told me he was going to drag me back to the town I am from. He was going to strike me when Sam intervened."
Olmstead took a step forward, cop or no cop. "You lying bitch," he began and got no further. Sam Belden's fist went flying into Olmstead's jaw, and he was knocked to the ground, dazed.
Molinson raised an eyebrow. "Good shot. Get your girl in the house, and I'll take care of the rest." Molinson watched with a small smirk on his face as Sam and Beth hurried into the house. Oh yeah. Belden was well and truly hooked.
He turned to the man on the ground and offered a hand up. "I demand you arrest him for assault and battery," Olmstead whined, spitting out blood.
The tiny smile disappeared from the officer's face. "I think you better leave Sleepyside as soon as possible," he informed Olmstead in a grim voice. "Now would be appropriate."
"What? You saw that, Officer. That man assaulted me. What, because he's a hometown boy and I'm a stranger? I'll go down to the police station and make a report myself." Olmstead turned to walk away but found himself stopped by a burly man with a nightstick.
"I saw the marks on the young lady's arms. You're lucky she's not pressing charges against you. You say that she was your girlfriend back home?"
"Yes, why?"
"Because your shirt collar is smeared with Tangee lipstick. You know the one that changes color according to the woman's complexion. And that particular color on your short belongs to a woman the entire police department has arrested at one time or another. Patty Jones, from over on Hawthorne Street. Our local bad girl. So much for love and faithfulness."
"You can't prove that!"
"Wanna bet? Now, I suggest you go home to wherever it is you come from. Oh, and I'd get some ice on that chin right away. Sir," Molinson spat out the word, making it the vilest of epithets.
Olmstead's jaw did hurt. It was a wonder if that palooka didn't break his jaw. A new idea formed in his evil brain. He nearly snickered aloud with its genius. "All right. I'm going. I'm going."
Molinson tipped his hat back and watched the man leave. He had a hinky feeling about this.
Inside the house, Mrs. Vanderpoel and Beth were fussing over Sam's bruised knuckles. "Cold compress, Sam. It will help," Mrs. Vanderpoel bustled about, getting a clean cloth and running cold water over it.
"Thanks for calling the police, Mrs. Vanderpoel." Beth took the cloth from her and placed it across Sam's swollen knuckles, patting it gently into place. He had to hide a grin. He'd had worse scrapes working around the farm.
"I noticed that… that nasty man hanging around outside. I got worried." She felt the emotions running between the two. "I'm going to do a few things before turning in. Sam, you may stay a while. Lock up, Beth." Never let it be said that Alida Vanderpoel didn't do her bit instead of Cupid – who, she hoped, was sending flaming arrows of vengeance into enemy lines.
"Thank you, Sam. I'm so sorry that you had to endure that after our lovely day," Beth cast her eyes down and bit her lip. She would just die if he didn't want to see her any longer.
"I'm sorry you had to endure that." He touched the purple marks blooming on her arm. She sighed, a sad, lonely exhalation of breath. "What's wrong?"
"I know him. I know Jerald. He's going to run back home and concoct some wild tale. He'll tell his parents who will tell my parents, and they'll be driving down here to make my life an absolute misery unless I agree to go back with them."
"Surely, they can see what kind of a man he is."
Beth stood and began pacing the kitchen. "That's it, Sam. They don't. They had Jerald and me matched up ever since I was born. They overlook everything about him. I tried to tell them, but they don't believe me, or they excuse his actions by saying he's a man."
"What he did to you is nothing like how a real man acts."
"I know that. You know that. But our parents are all wrapped up in this romantic notion of uniting the families. Like something out of a Shakespearean play."
An idea was dawning in Sam's logical brain. It was quite… radical. Quite daring and impulsive for a man who left his childhood behind some time ago. "You're worried about your parents coming down here."
"I wouldn't be surprised if they came down with the Olmsteads, Jerald, and a minister," she replied wryly. 'They were against me relocating here, and when I insisted, they allowed me to come to get it out of my system."
"What if we could stop them in their tracks?" A wicked grin crossed his face.
"Really? How?" Beth was intrigued. Stop her parents? And spend more time with Sam?
Uh, yeah.
"Let's get married."
She must have misheard him. Beth would have sworn on a stack of bibles that Sam just made a statement about marriage. About marrying. Him.
Her.
Her eyes widened in shock as she stammered out, "G… get married? Did you say get married?"
He was calm. Cool. "Yes. I think that would be our best course, Beth. We, ah, we get along well. We're, um, physically attracted to each other. By the time your parents get down here, you'll be Mrs. Samuel Belden, and there ain't nothin' they can do about that."
"It's so fast, Sam." He noted she didn't dismiss it right out of hand. That was a good sign.
He shrugged. "Not any faster than any of the hasty marriages taking place now."
"Jerald is probably hightailing it back home now. My parents will take off immediately to come down here. There just isn't time for blood tests and waiting." Marriage to Sam Belden, though. It both thrilled and terrified her.
"We can get a special license. I know people, Beth. We can be married on Monday. It won't be a big affair, just us and a couple of witnesses. I'll make all the arrangements, and after work on Monday, we'll go to the judge's office and get married." He stood and moved closer to her. "Please say yes."
"I…I…" The hot look in his eyes was hypnotizing her. She wanted this, more than anything she ever wanted. Wanted him.
"We'll have to delay the honeymoon, too. I hope you won't be too upset, not getting a big white wedding and a honeymoon. But I promise we'll have one at the first opportunity, baby." He took her hands in his and knelt on one knee.
"Beth den Breejen, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?"
How could she resist his proposal? Him? It was right. This was right. "Yes, Samuel Belden. I will marry you."
His face lit up with happiness, but something a bit darker and more decadent swam in those eyes, promising her untold delights. Something that called out to the very core of her. It made her shiver in anticipation. He stood and swept her into his arms, plundering her mouth.
And his Beth gave just as good as she got, right there is Mrs. Vanderpoel's kitchen.
They broke apart simply because the need for oxygen was paramount. "Okay, Beth. I'll come by tomorrow, once I have everything settled. Maybe you could ask one of your girlfriends to stand up for you."
"Maybe." Her thought was no so much to ask another resident or one of the teachers at the high school. No, Mrs. Vanderpoel would do just fine, if she agreed. "Do you have a best man in mind?"
"Yes, I'm going to ask James Frayne. He's a good sort, as is his wife, Nell. You wouldn't mind if she came to the ceremony, would you?"
"Not at all, Sam."
He opened the screen door and stepped out onto the porch. Sam leaned back in and kissed her again, sending those tendrils of want throughout her body. "Monday, sweetheart." He winked at her and took the steps two at a time.
Beth placed her fingers over her mouth. "Monday." She turned and walked back into the kitchen, turning off the light.
Softly lit sconces allowed her to climb the stairs safely. Mrs. Vanderpoel's light was still on, so Beth took a chance and rapped at her door.
"Beth. Is everything all right?" The older woman was still dressed but had traded her sensible shoes for slippers.
"Yes, ma'am. May I speak to you for a moment? Privately?"
"Sure, honey. Come right in and sit."
Beth had never been in Mrs. V's private suite. There was a small sitting room, and beyond that, a door which Beth supposed led to the bedroom. A radio was playing softly on a sideboard, and there were two comfortable-looking Queen Anne-style chairs.
"Sam asked me to marry him." Beth just blurted it out as she sat.
"And what did you say?" She didn't act shocked, or advise against it.
"I said yes." Beth paused. "It's not so much because my parents will be down here trying to bully me into going home. It's like I told Sam, they'll probably arrive with Jerald, his parents and a minister in tow."
"You said yes because Sam Belden is a good man and you're falling for him."
Beth shrugged, palms up. "Already did that. Fell for him."
"Let me tell you something, Beth. I've known Sam since he was in nappies. He's a good man, one of the best. And he's crazy about you."
"Do you really think so, Mrs. V?" She felt like one of the giggling teenage girls she had in her classes.
"I know so. I was married once myself, you know. He loves you, Beth. And for a man like Sam, that love is forever. You're a lucky girl."
"He wants to get married Monday afternoon. Sam is going to arrange for a special license through his contacts. We won't have time for a honeymoon or anything. Gosh! I have to check if I have a suitable dress!"
"I'll hate to lose you as a boarder, but I'm happy for you, Beth. You'll need to pack tomorrow. I'll run interference if your parents call."
"Oh, I'm sure they will. Especially when Jerald shows up with the swollen cheek and bruise on his jaw. Sam clocked him a good one when he started insulting me again, right in front of that nice officer."
"You need to get some sleep and start packing, young lady."
"I have one more thing," Beth began shyly. "Will you… will you stand up for me? I feel closest to you, Mrs. V."
The older woman was touched. "Of course, I will. Now scoot! We both will have lots to do!"
Beth stood and smiled. "Thank you. Thanks." Acting on impulse, she took a few steps over, bent and kissed Mrs. V's soft cheek. With a mischievous grin, she floated through the door, leaving Mrs. V to plot and plan Beth's upcoming wedding day.
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Samuel Peter Belden felt pretty damn good, but there was much to accomplish. He drove home, smiling and making plans. He'd call the judge tomorrow. Lucky that Seth Webster was a close family friend.
He went upstairs, taking the steps two at a time, into the master bedroom. His mother's jewelry box was there, and he took out the rings he wrapped in paper. His father's ring and his mother's. Simple gold bands that meant everything to them. He hoped his parents imbued them with the magic of the lifelong love that they enjoyed.
He glanced at the bed. It had the quilt his grandmother had sewn for his parents, a wedding ring quilt that was so appropriate now. Beth would be gracing that bed Monday night and every night after that. Sam peeked into the walk-in closet; a whole side was empty, just waiting to be filled with her clothes. The same with his dresser. An entire side of empty drawers, waiting for a bride.
However, for now, the only thing he could do was strip down, lay his clothes neatly on the butler, and try to get some shut-eye.