Chapter 36 – Mama's Boy
"What are you thinking?" Jack asked the next morning as he took a sip of lukewarm water from his canteen and looked at Elizabeth who was crouched at the front of the tent. She had the flap of canvas open a few inches.
"I was just thinking about the storm, and how I don't want us to get wet."
"It's coming down buckets out there. Why don't we wait an hour or two? The storm might pass by then."
Elizabeth continued looking towards the sky before speaking. Hoping to see blue somewhere, even in the far distance. But all she saw was grey through the curtain of rain coming down.
"Mother nature rarely plays by anyone else's rules. She can be very headstrong."
Jack chuckled. "Like someone else I know."
"You used to like that about me." Elizabeth grinned as she looked over her shoulder at Jack.
"Still do", he murmured as he crawled on the ground behind her. With one hand, he gently moved the hair off the side of her neck, and placed a lingering kiss on her skin.
"Jack, what are we going to do until the rain lets up?"
"I've got an idea or two." Jack's voice was low and suggestive.
"Me too!" Elizabeth said happily as an idea came to her. She dropped the canvas tent flap from her hand and turned towards Jack.
Thirty minutes later, Jack lay with his back on the ground inside the tent. He propped himself up on both elbows and stared at Elizabeth. His suspenders still held up his pants, which he had been wearing for more than thirty minutes despite his desire to have taken them off by now.
"You know, Elizabeth. This wasn't exactly what I had in mind."
'Hmm", she answered absentmindedly. She didn't bother to look at Jack as she continued to write in her notebook.
Jack watched as Elizabeth, still fully clothed, paused for moment in her writing. Her eyes stayed on the page in front of her. The pencil held motionless in her hand as she read her words and contemplated the next sentence in her story.
Don't do it. Don't do it, he thought to himself as he watched her. But he knew she was going to do it despite his silent plea.
Elizabeth, still glancing at her notebook, turned to a fresh page.
And then she bit her bottom lip pensively.
Aargh! Why did she do it? Jack thought as he stared at her lips and then dropped back to the ground in frustration. I love when she does that little bite thing.
Does she have any idea how badly I want her right now?
For half an hour, Jack had tried to stop thinking about what he wanted to be doing with his wife while she wrote her newest story idea in her notebook.
Obviously her idea of what to do until the rain let up was vastly different from mine, Jack thought with a chagrin.
Despite his subtle and not so subtle hints, Elizabeth had been oblivious to Jack's desires. He had rolled up his sleeves to exhibit the arm muscles she admired so much. He had rubbed her back as she scribbled in her book. He had told her how pretty she looked. And yet, she hadn't even noticed his actions as she wrote her newest story.
If it was a battle of Jack versus Elizabeth's imagination, Jack was a sore loser.
"You've been writing for more than half an hour", he remarked as he looked at the tent's fabric roof, watching the dimpling movement made by the raindrops which pounded on the outside of it.
Elizabeth didn't even hear him as she was now moving her pencil speedily across the page. She wrote line after line down the page until she got to the bottom. Then she quickly turned the paper over and began writing on the backside.
How selfish of a man would I be if I told her to put down the damn notebook and get on top of me? . . . Or under me?
Pretty damn selfish, he realized with a sigh.
He lifted up his head, and glanced at her again.
The humidity had caused Elizabeth's hair to become a wild mass of curls. Parts of it cascaded down her back, while other tendrils bounced on her shoulders like coils or soft tight springs. Around Elizabeth's temple, the hair strands which were several inches long when she wore them straightened, were now spiral curls barely touching her eyebrows.
Those curls are such a turn on. If I pull them down with my teeth, they bounce right back. Does she have any idea how sexy they are?
"Elizabeth, do you think maybe you've written enough for the morning?"
Elizabeth, engrossed in her thoughts, didn't lift up her head as she continued to write.
Five minutes later, she curiously looked up at him. "Did you say something, Jack?"
"Just wanted to know how much longer you're going to write."
"Did it stop raining?" she asked as she glanced in surprise at the entrance to the tent and realized that the sound of the rain beating on the tent had almost subsided.
"It's letting up. Probably be finished in the next five minutes or so."
"Okay. Just let me know when it stops and you're ready to go", she said pleasantly as she turned back to her writing.
Man, I would love to be that notebook right now.
The way she smiles and runs her hand along the pages. She's practically caressing them.
Why can't that be my body she's touching? he thought with a groan.
I cannot believe that I am jealous of a notebook!
"What did you draw?" Elizabeth asked curiously a few minutes later as she sighed in contentment and put down her notebook.
"Nothing."
"Nothing? What have you been doing while I wrote? I thought you were going to sketch", she said in puzzlement.
"Yeah, well, I just wasn't in the mood to draw after all", he said with a shrug as he looked at her and thought about how they had just missed a perfect opportunity.
Sure we made love last night. But come on, that was last night. At least ten hours ago! And who knows if we'll have a chance in Colter City. She normally loves making love in the rain.
And damn, I love those curls of hers.
"Really? You weren't in the mood to draw? But it was the perfect opportunity for our hobbies", Elizabeth said curiously as she stretched her back.
"How would you define the word 'hobby'?", Jack asked casually.
Elizabeth paused. She had no idea why Jack was asking her such a question, but she liked any excuse to teach.
"A hobby is a regular activity, which can be very physical. That is done for enjoyment. Typically during one's leisure time."
"Yep, that's what I was in the mood for", Jack responded with a sigh as he got up from the ground and began rolling up his sleeping bag.
"The storm's passed. We can head to town, if you're up for it."
Jack and Elizabeth had only been riding for forty minutes but they already realized that the pace was much slower than yesterday.
They rode side by side through the valley when they could. But on narrow paths, Jack took the lead. Careful to have his horse walk slowly enough that in didn't fall or pull a muscle in the areas of deep mud.
"You okay back there?" Jack called over his shoulder.
"Yep. Just don't trot."
The hillsides were more dangerous than usual. The hard hooves of the horses provided little traction on the rain-slicked grass.
Both Elizabeth and Jack dropped their reins, allowing the horses' legs to judge the conditions and set their own pace. Slowly and steadily, the two riders made their way towards Colter City.
"You wait here. I'm going to ride ahead past the thicket and see how slick it is and what the water looks like. It may be pretty treacherous due to all the rain we've had," Jack instructed as they neared a thicket close to a swollen river.
Jack cautiously rode his horse to the top edge of the wet embankment. Dismounting, he took hold of the reins and led the horse down to the water's edge.
Jack's years of riding allowed him to feel comfortable judging the speed of the river, its depth, and the abilities of their horses to navigate it.
He hesitated as he wondered if Elizabeth would feel comfortable riding through the fast moving river. If she was the least bit tense, he knew that her small horse would sense it and lose confidence in its movements, perhaps changing its gait and slipping on a rock.
Elizabeth's not used to riding as much as me, especially in these conditions. I'll switch horses with her. Mine will keep its confidence even if it senses that Elizabeth is nervous.
Jack, grateful that the rain had stopped when it did, was struck by how different it was to be riding with a wife as opposed to crossing the terrain by himself.
The feeling of protectiveness that he felt for Elizabeth made him pause and consider every move. The best routes to take. What may be too dangerous. How many hours to travel at a time.
As Jack took a final look at the river and the bank on the other side, the loud blast of the gunshot startled him, causing him to jerk around and look back towards the grove of trees where he had left Elizabeth.
"Elizabeth!" Jack screamed in desperation as he hurried up the embankment, pulling his horse behind him.
What the hell happened?!
With a scowl, he realized that he had left his service pistol in the saddle bag on Elizabeth's horse. Thankfully, he had his rifle strapped into his saddle.
His boot slipped in the wet ground, causing him to fall to his knees, splattering his clothes with mud.
He cursed at himself before he scrambled to his feet, using the horse's reins to help pull himself up.
His heart was pounding as he jumped on his horse and sped too fast for the conditions through the thicket. Why did I leave her alone?! he berated himself.
Jack held onto the reins in one hand. His rifle in the other.
At the edge of the thicket, he pulled up short when he saw Elizabeth.
She was calmly sitting atop her small horse. Jack's pistol in her right hand.
"Elizabeth, did you fire a shot? What happened?!" he yelled worriedly as he starting riding towards her again.
"It's fine. I handled it," she called out casually as she motioned off to the side.
As Jack approached, he looked to the ground to where Elizabeth was pointing. The body lay twenty feet from her horse.
The tawny colored cat, with its large paws and hind legs, was easily eight feet in length from the tip of its tail to its nose.
"Did you know that cougars are ambush predators? They sneak up on their prey. Quite crafty. And they can run up to 50 miles per hour and can even take down a bull moose," Elizabeth noted evenly as if she were teaching a class.
"You shot it?" he asked in bewilderment.
"I didn't have a choice."
"You hate guns!"
"Well, yes. I do. But that doesn't mean I don't know how to use one."
"One shot, and you hit it perfectly." His voice showed his amazement.
"It was a little hard because it was a moving target, but it was either me and the horse or it. And I wasn't about to become its lunch."
"Are you okay?"
"I'm fine. I hate to kill anything, but it was coming right at me."
"Does anything faze you?" Jack asked as he pulled up close to her. His horse's body a mere inch from hers.
Elizabeth chuckled.
"Jack, I grew up in the country. I moved to a small town by myself. I teach a classroom full of young children. Have you seen some of my students? Not a lot leaves me frazzled."
'Well, aren't you just full of surprises", he said as he shook his head in awe.
"This is dreadful. Absolutely dreadful. You can't dance at your reception with that . . . that . . . that hobbling thing you're doing. Stop it right now", Mrs. Thornton ordered after hugging Jack and Elizabeth, who had found the elder Thornton couple sitting at the town's busy restaurant two hours later.
"You simply must stop it", she instructed again as if that settled the matter.
Elizabeth looked at her mother-in-law in surprise and then turned to Jack. Her eyes pleading with him to say something.
"Mother, she was just injured a few days okay. She's getting better. She's not going to be hobbling at the reception. It's a sprain. She hasn't been permanently maimed."
Elizabeth couldn't tell if she had sensed disgust in his voice or laughter as Jack addressed his mother.
"Well, thank goodness for that. Now let's get you two settled and fed."
"Actually, I'll leave Elizabeth with you two. I need to check-in at the jailhouse and find out what's going on. Take care of her for me, mom."
"Of course, dear."
Before Elizabeth could react, Jack gave his mother an affectionate kiss on the cheek and hurried out of the restaurant.
Where's my kiss? Elizabeth thought with a frown. He kissed his mother and forgot about me. I'm his wife!
Colter City was bustling with displaced passengers, railroad workers, and town citizens. The residents had initially been anxious to help with the aftermath of the accident, but once they realized that no one was suffering life-threatening injuries, they realized that there was a profit to be made.
Jack and the other Mounties who had arrived to aid were kept busy as the injured needed assistance, people haggled over the prices of food and rooms, and long lines and crowds gathered around the telegraph office and other establishments.
Mr. Thornton, upon noticing his wife's dismay when she had seen the only available hotel room, had paid a hefty sum to a local farmer to rent the man's farmhouse and wagon for the week. For an extra five dollars, the farmer had also provided his thirteen-year old son to drive the Thornton's to and from town for meals.
"We won't need him now that you're with us, Elizabeth. I'm sure your cooking is just fine by now. At least I hope it is. But the boy's already been paid so we can still use him to run errands", Mrs. Thornton informed Elizabeth.
The three civilian Thorntons stayed in town all afternoon.
Mr. Thornton made several trips to the telegraph office to await a message from his office, and found his way to a game of poker and a glass of Scotch.
Mrs. Thornton found a somewhat private corner of a Cafe to drink tea and read a book. As long as she was willing to pay for the seat, the staff allowed her to sit there undisturbed other than to refill her teacup.
Elizabeth hobbled on her sprained ankle running errands for her mother-in-law and replacing some items lost or damaged in the derailment.
After an early meager dinner at a crowded restaurant which had a shortage of food, they heading to the farm. Elizabeth had managed to briefly see Jack in the street as he was hauling two handcuffed and drunk men to the jailhouse.
"I'll have to spend tonight in town. I'll be out to the farm in the morning for breakfast", Jack said quickly as he pulled up one of the men who was stumbling.
As Elizabeth rode next to the wagon on their way to the farm, she was already regretting that she hadn't stayed behind in Hope Valley.
The Nelson farmhouse, which was clean and simple, reminded Elizabeth of many of the homes in Aberdeen.
To the elder Thornton couple, it was more of a nightmarish curiosity. They had moved into the larger of the two bedrooms yesterday. In less than 24 hours, Jack's mother had been horrified by the lack of indoor plumbing, the lack of electricity or natural gas lines, and the sounds of a rooster awakening her at dawn.
"Don't worry about milking the cow anymore this week. I'll do it for you. My husband and I are going to be sleeping in the extra stall. So we don't need you stopping by twice a day", Elizabeth explained to Allan Nelson, the teenager whose chores she was willing to do, when he showed up the next morning.
"I'll gather the eggs too", she informed him pleasantly.
Elizabeth had slept in the boy's single bed last night, but she had already decided that when Jack came, the couple would sleep in the barn. After cleaning an empty stall, she had put down fresh hay and then made two trips between the house and the barn, carrying the mattress, pillow, and linens.
"Elizabeth dear, I need a frog. Please go find me one", Mrs Thornton said as the woman carried some fresh flowers into the kitchen. "Aren't these beautiful? I had the farm boy get them for me."
"Excuse me?"
"A frog. For the breakfast table. Please dear. I don't have a clue where to find one around here. You must know. You used to this type of. . . living arrangement."
Elizabeth, a frown on her puzzled face, wandered outside. A frog? I heard that rich people like frog legs in Paris. But we have perfectly good food here! Even if there's a shortage in town.
"Morning Mom, where's Elizabeth?" Jack asked as he walked in the farmhouse and took off his hat, placing it on the rack near the door.
"I have no idea where that wife of yours has run off to. I asked her to go find me a simple flower-frog for the centerpiece and she disappeared."
"Mother, I doubt very much the Nelson's have a flower-frog."
"It doesn't have to be silver. I understand that they couldn't possibly afford Tiffany's, but even a simple one will do. I need something to put the flower stems into. How else am I supposed to arrange the flowers for the table?"
"Mom, the people around here are not used to elaborate flower centerpieces. They don't need something to hold up the stems. If they have flowers, they just put them in a vase."
"No flower-frog?"
"No flower-frog."
"Well, then I have no idea where Elizabeth ran off to. Really, Jack, you have the most interesting wife. I simply do not understand that girl", Jack's mother said with a critical shake of her head.
A frazzled Elizabeth sat back on her haunches in the vegetable garden and looked at her dirty hands. I give up!
She had spent twenty minutes searching the farm for a frog.
But what will she say when I tell her?! I can't go back inside and tell her that I couldn't find a simple frog for breakfast. She'll think I'm not capable of making a proper meal! She'll think I'm a terrible wife to Jack! Elizabeth thought worriedly.
I have to find a stupid frog for breakfast!
"Elizabeth, what are you doing?" Jack asked curiously as he approached Elizabeth and saw her among tomato and zucchini plants.
"I'm looking for a frog! For your mother! Your crazy mother wants a frog for breakfast!"
"Elizabeth, do you have any idea what a frog is?"
"Of course, I do. It's an amphibian."
Jack laughed. "To most people, it's an amphibian. To the rich, it's a device you put in the middle of a centerpiece to hold up flower stems."
"What in the world are you talking about?"
"It's made of silver or porcelain or even glass and looks nothing like an actual frog. It has small holes or prongs to keep the stems upright."
"Why didn't she say?!" Elizabeth practically wailed.
Jack smiled and reached out his hand to her. "Come on, lets get inside."
"So we don't have to eat frog legs for breakfast?"
"No, my dear. We don't eat frog legs for breakfast. We're rich. Not desperate."
"You don't expect me to eat that atrocity, do you?"
Elizabeth's mother-in-law looked in disgust at the contents of the basket which Elizabeth brought to the table for breakfast.
"It's toast." Elizabeth said in surprise.
"It's warm and soggy."
"Of course it's warm. It's toast", Elizabeth replied in puzzlement. "But it's not soggy, it's just a little soft because that's how toast gets when you put the pieces together in a basket."
"I don't want warm and soggy toast. If I wanted warm and soggy toast, I would take a bath with it. I want my toast the way it's supposed to be. Hard and cold."
"It's toast! It's not supposed to be hard and cold!"
"Perhaps not the way you eat your monstrosity, but proper toast is hard and cold. This is not toast. This is limp charred bread. You should have used a toast rack."
"A toast rack?"
"A toast rack. A rack for toast. A toast holder." Mrs. Thornton looked at Elizabeth as if her daughter-in-law was a simpleton.
When Elizabeth looked at Jack in confusion, he simply shrugged in agreement with his mother.
"Do you like your toast hard and cold?" a stunned Elizabeth asked Jack.
"Kind of", he admitted.
"Kind of?!"
"I guess I like it the way I grew up with it. Hard and cold. And then with a little marmalade spread on it. Mom always made sure we had the most delicious orange marmalade. If you use a toast rack to serve the toast, it keeps the pieces nice and straight and separated", Jack smiled as he reminisced. "They don't get soft."
Elizabeth slumped into her chair. A toast rack?
"I'll get you a nice silver one from Tiffany and Company. When I buy you the flower-frog. I cannot have my son eating this . . . this . . . wilted bread for breakfast."
Elizabeth unfolded her napkin and placed it on her lap. She was reaching for her glass of orange juice and almost wishing that she had put some vodka in it, when her mother-in-law spoke again.
"What am I supposed to do with this?" the woman asked as she motioned towards the brown-shelled oval in front of her, which Elizabeth had placed in one of the egg cups she had found in the cupboard.
"It's a soft boiled egg."
"Yes. I can see that. But how am I supposed to eat it? I don't see any egg toppers", Mrs. Thornton remarked as she looked around the table.
"Egg toppers?" Elizabeth looked at her mother-in-law in confusion.
"Elizabeth dear, you forgot the egg toppers."
"The egg toppers?"
"For cutting off the top of the egg."
"You just use your knife . . . to crack the top." Elizabeth said hesitantly, wondering what she could possibly be misunderstanding. What in the world is an egg topper?
"Like this", Elizabeth added with a smile as she tapped on her egg with her knife. Happy to introduce the family to a new food. Have they never eaten a soft boiled egg before?!
Mr. Thornton seemed fascinated by Elizabeth's actions as he watched her lift the broken off top shell of her egg and place it on the side of her plate.
"How . . . how simple", he finally said as he tapped on his own egg.
"Well, thank goodness that I'm not expected to act like a barbarian and use my teeth", Mrs. Thornton replied with a shake of her head as she picked up her knife.
Elizabeth glanced at Jack for some support but he missed her look as he was busy using his knife to crack the top of his egg as he spoke.
"I remember our egg toppers! When we were little, Tom and I used to argue over who got the silver one with the rooster design for a handle", he said with a grin. "It was the best egg topper of the group."
Jack's mother laughed. "You two boys were so adorable. Going around the table asking if you could top off our soft boiled eggs."
"And you always said that I got to use the rooster handle topper first because I was the oldest. Tom was always jealous." Jack smiled as he looked at his mom.
"Every time I have a soft-boiled egg, I think of that egg topper and our breakfasts," Jack added wistfully.
Elizabeth looked a Jack in surprise.
"I make soft-boiled eggs once a week!"
"I know", Jack said with a shrug.
"And you always wanted an egg topper? You've never said anything", she said in disbelief.
"I could have bought you one", she added meekly.
"We still have the rooster handled one at home", Mrs. Thornton chuckled. "I'll have it packed up and mailed to you so you have it at your home."
"Thanks, mom. You're the best." Jack said happily.
Egg toppers? Silver egg toppers?! Just use a stupid knife! Elizabeth thought in frustration.
Jack's voice interrupted Elizabeth's thoughts.
"Elizabeth, did you make bacon?"
"Oh, yes. I'm sorry. I forgot it. I'll get it now." Elizabeth said as she quickly pushed back her chair and opened the oven where the bacon was staying warm.
Flowers need a frog. Toast needs a toast rack. Eggs need egg toppers. Thank goodness, bacon is just bacon. No special utensil needed.
Remain calm, Elizabeth. You can't have done anything wrong with bacon, she told herself as she picked up the platter with a dishtowel to protect her hands from the heat.
"This is Canadian bacon," Mr. Thornton remarked when Elizabeth set the platter on the table in front of him.
"We're Canadian!" a frazzled Elizabeth wailed before she slumping in her chair again. "What else would we be having?! We're Canadian!"
Mr. Thornton looked startled. "I was just commenting that the Americans called our bacon Canadian bacon. I learned that when I was in New York City last month. No harm intended."
"Sorry", Elizabeth mumbled, feeling her cheeks turn rosy, especially when she noticed Jack giving her a strange questioning look.
"Have you had your visiting cards made yet?" Jack's mother asked as she set down her fork and knife and wiped her mouth with her napkin.
"My what?"
"Your visiting cards?"
For the umpteenth time since they had been in Colter City, Elizabeth turned hopelessly to look at Jack, who responded for her.
"We don't really need them in Hope Valley, mother. We know everyone."
"I'm sure you know everyone dear. You are very well thought of in that town of yours", Jack's mother said as she looked at him adoringly and patted his hand.
Elizabeth noticed that Jack seemed to thoroughly enjoy his mother's compliment.
"But Elizabeth, you should have thought to make them already. A visiting card for a married woman should be three inches wide by two and 1/8 inches high. Make sure it's made of pure white unglazed Bristol-board, and somewhat flexible. But not too thin. The very thin cards of last year are no longer fashionable."
"But –"
"Because you live in such a small town, you need not put on your address but of course, you need your name engraved on the front."
"But – "
"I'm very surprised you haven't had them made yet. Really, Elizabeth, you're a Thornton now", Mrs. Thornton said disapprovingly.
"Yes, ma'am", Elizabeth answered meekly while Jack happily reached for another slab of bacon.
While Jack and his father got ready to go into town, Elizabeth dragged her feet down the short hallway to the bedroom with Mrs. Thornton.
"I brought four dresses for you to try on for the reception. I had the seamstress follow the measurements you sent, but if they don't fit perfectly, you'll have to use a seamstress in that coal town you live in."
"It's called Hope Valley and I am a seamstress."
"I thought you were a teacher!"
"Jack, she says she's a seamstress! We've been led to believe this entire time that she was still a teacher. Did you know about this?" Mrs. Thornton called out through the open door before quickly turning back to Elizabeth.
"Did you get fired from your teaching job?" the woman asked as she narrowed her eyes and looked suspiciously at Elizabeth.
Jack poked his head in the doorway. "She's quite capable of doing more than one thing. That's why I married her. She's an excellent seamstress and an excellent teacher", he said with a grin.
"I'll have to spend all day in town helping out. Dad will probably spend the day sending telegrams or keeping me company. We'll see you two later. Have fun."
Fun? Marie Antoinette had more fun at her execution. The people in the train wreck had more fun.
"I brought you several dresses so you'd have ample to choose from. I want you to feel like this is your wedding reception."
"It is my wedding reception."
"Of course, dear!"
"So . . . you like the color green?" Elizabeth said hesitantly when Mrs. Thornton opened the traveling trunk on the floor and withdrew four evening gowns. Laying them on the bed. Each one was green.
"Personally, I look better in blue, but with your hair color, I thought green would be more flattering for you."
"You brought me four green dresses."
"They're different shades of green. Obviously. This jade green might be a tad bit too dark for you but the cut is beautiful. The sea-green gown is from Paris. And this pale forest green is stunning. And this other forest green has the most lovely neckline."
"You do like green, don't you?" Mrs. Thornton asked when she noticed Elizabeth eyeing the dresses somewhat skeptically.
"Of course. I just thought that I had mentioned in one of my letters that a pink gown would be lovely."
"I thought you were joking", Mrs. Thornton said in surprise.
"Joking?"
"Well, yes."
"Why would I have been joking?!"
"Because you can't wear pink. Not with your coloring."
"I wear pink all the time."
"Oh dear. How tragic."
Elizabeth, wearing the dark jade green gown, stood in front of the mirror, looking at her reflection. The expensive dress fit her perfectly. Hugging her curves. Accentuating her small waist which was cinched in by her corset. The neckline showed off the pale blemish-free skin along her collar bone, making her look like a society woman in a portrait.
Elizabeth smiled as she thought of the famed artist John Singer Sargent, who was known to travel throughout Europe to paint exotic beautiful women. I could be one of his models. I could.
I look beautiful.
"I know pale is considered ladylike but with your pasty coloring and your hobbling on one ankle, you look rather like a wounded solider coming home from battle", Mrs. Thornton said as she observed Elizabeth.
Elizabeth's smile fell and her eyes widened in surprise.
"Perhaps you should get a bit more color in your face. . . . But not too much color. Then you'd just look like a wounded soldier who caught Dengue fever or some other dreadful disease before hobbling home from battle."
"Now, dear. Don't just stand there with your mouth gaped open. Please try on the next dress."
"Speaking of illness. Do try to stay away from students the week before the reception. We don't want you taken ill after all the work I've put in to this reception."
Mrs. Thornton had finally decided that Elizabeth would choose the pale forest green gown. Elizabeth had to admit that it was perfect. Even better than the jade one. She looked breathtaking. Jack's not going to be able to keep his hands off of me!
"You'll need a necklace of course. I brought you one. It's there in the smaller trunk. Would you get it dear? I'll go get us some more lemonade. Jack's grandmother left a few pieces of jewelry for the boys to give to their future wives. I decided to save the yellow and white diamond piece for Tom's wife. If that boy every gets married. The piece I brought for you suits you more."
Elizabeth went to the trunk, which had four drawers on one side and hangers on the other. In the second drawer, she found two thin flat jewelry boxes.
"Which one is it?" Elizabeth asked loudly as she looked to the door.
"The one that matches you", Mrs. Thornton called out from the kitchen. "The other one is one of my own."
Elizabeth lifted the lid of the first box and gasped when she saw the contents. The necklace was exquisite. The large gems were grey-blue in color, with smaller diamonds surrounding them.
It was the most beautiful necklace she had ever held in her hands. Elizabeth stared at it before shaking her head and then closed the box. This couldn't be for her.
Opening the other box, Elizabeth frowned when she saw the bare chain of delicate silver. If she hadn't seen the first necklace, she would have found this one to be charming in its simplicity. But it was simple. Plain. Cheap compared to all the other pieces the Thorntons must own.
Elizabeth lifted the chain from the box. It was obvious to her that this was the one her mother intended for her. That's what her mother-in-law thought of her. That she was simple. Plain. Cheap.
For some reason, Elizabeth felt like crying.
I'll always be a second-rate daughter-in-law. Jack loves his mother. And she'll never see me as anything other than second-rate girl who trapped her son.
"Not that one, dear", Jack's mother said as she carried the glasses of lemonade into the room and set them down on the dresser.
"That's my favorite piece. Things have been so crazy the last few days that I forgot to put it on this morning. The boys gave it to me one Christmas years ago. They were probably 10 and 12 and used all their allowance to buy it for me."
"I've never noticed you wearing it," Elizabeth said in surprise.
"I ususally wear it under my clothing. Close to my heart. In fact, I wear it almost every day."
Elizabeth stared at the woman in confusion. "But - But -. But the only other necklace is this one", she said hesitantly as she picked up the box with the blue-grey gemstones surrounded by diamonds.
Mrs. Thornton took a sip of lemonade and nodded.
"That's right. I thought it suited you so much better than Grandma Thornton's yellow and white diamonds. This one matches your eyes perfectly. The stones are sapphire but they're more grey than deep blue. Jack once remarked that you had the most beautiful light grey-blue eyes. And I remembered looking at them the last time we visited. Try it on dear. The grey color will go perfectly with the pale green dress."
Elizabeth couldn't stop staring at her mother-in-law. "You noticed my eye color?"
"Of course, dear. You're my daughter. Well, I suppose you're really my daughter-in-law but I've never had a daughter until you. It's always just been me and my men in the family. It's nice to have another female. And I always wanted someone to go shopping with. Tom just flirts shamelessly with the salesgirls when he comes with me. We'll have to go next time you're in Hamilton. Wait until you see the new gowns at Salon De Mode. The organzas are pure heaven. Do you need help with the clasp or can you get it?"
"You spent a lot of time with Elizabeth today. How'd it go?" Jack's father asked that night as he and his wife got ready for bed.
"She's a lovely girl. I just wish she had more confidence. She always seems like such a nervous ninny around me."
"She does seem rather high-strung or on edge", Jack's father agreed.
"Poor Jack. With the thunderstorm going on outside, she's probably keeping his hands full."
"And another thing. Have you noticed how she told our son to be quiet at dinner when he started to tell us a story about a new bed he purchased? She actually told him to hush!"
Mr. Thornton chuckled. "That's how I knew she was the right woman for him. I've only ever heard two women who can say hush that way. You and her."
"What are you talking about?"
"I never heard another woman other than you say it that way. Until tonight when I heard Elizabeth. "
"I have no idea what you mean? What way?"
"It's the darndest thing. You both manage to hush your husbands in a way that makes the one simple word tell us to be quiet and that you love us at the same time."
Jack lay on the mattress on top of the fresh hay and watched Elizabeth, who was leaning against the stall wall with one hand while she took off her shoes and socks.
"I want you desperately", he told her as she put her socks into her shoes and then set them down in a corner.
"Desperately?" she asked skeptically with a small smile forming on her lips.
"Desperately."
"How desperately?" she challenged him as she took down her hair and casually ran her fingers through it, loosening the waves.
"If you don't get over here in the next five seconds, I'm going to come over there and ravish you up against the stall wall where you're standing."
"Exciting. Sexy. But not too comfortable I suspect", she responded with a smirk and raised eyebrows as she slowly began unbuttoning her blouse and walking towards him. "I think we can do better than that."
"Mon passe-temps favori." Jack reached up towards her and pulled her down into his arms.
"What's that mean?" Elizabeth whispered.
Jack pushed her hair behind her ears and looked into her eyes before softly kissing her. In one gentle move, he rolled her over so that he was on top off her, his arms supporting his weight.
"It's French for 'my favorite hobby'. And you do something French that is most definitely part of my favorite hobby,"
Up next: Chapter 37
Dear Readers, If you've never used a flower-frog, toast rack, or egg topper, I recommend flower-frogs and egg toppers. But personally, I like my toast soft and warm, so I'd pass on the toast rack, no matter how expensive it is. :)