A Passionate Understanding: Vignettes Through the Years

Just a little vignette to add to the pile—I'm takin' a quick break from an angsty epic to write some happy fluff. Did a bit of research for this short scene—seems Valentine's Day has been a thing for a purty long time. A woman named Esther Howland was responsible for bringing Valentine's cards to America in 1850. They'd been available for a time before that, but she was the first to commercialize them and made a huge success of it. Her company was called the New England Valentine Company, and she employed many young women to work there. Happy Belated Valentine's Day, ya'll.

Chapter 15
"Valentine's Kisses"
by Lilyjack

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"How was Wichita?" Kitty sleepily asked, pushing herself upright to lean heavily against the pillows.

"It's grown quite a bit since I was there last," Matt murmured quietly, raking wayward red curls out of her eyes with his fingertips. He sat on the edge of the bed facing her, tenderly gazing at Kitty in her rumpled nightgown, a soft, gauzy affair that always made his chest ache with her loveliness, made his hands itch to hold her, to touch her.

He still wore his heavy coat, but at least he'd taken the time to tug off his gloves and toss them on a table, remove his dusty hat and hang it on the bedpost before perching gingerly next to her. She'd woken immediately and smiled happily, reaching to wind her arms around his neck, her sleep-flushed cheek warming his chilled one.

"Well, it has been several years since you traveled there, Matt," Kitty reminded him, rubbing her eyes. "Towns in these parts spring up and burst their seams in no time a'tall." Her voice was even huskier than usual with slumber, and the sound of it always made his toes curl in his boots.

"Yep." He took her hand and squeezed it.

"Your hands are cold." She cradled both his big hands between hers and held them to her warm body. "I'm so glad you're home, Cowboy," she intoned. "I missed you. I wish you didn't have to be gone for so long."

"Maybe I'll take the train next time."

"But you don't like to transport prisoners on the train."

"I know. Too risky."

"It was a nice thought, though," she smiled, her eyes raking over her big handsome cowboy, hungry for the sight of him after nearly two weeks' separation.

"Yeah," he agreed. "Hey, I, uh, I got somethin' for ya' in Wichita."

"You did?" She smiled affectionately at her man. It made her heart skip when she knew Matt had been thinking of her while he'd been away.

Matt reached inside his coat, pulled a white envelope from an inner pocket and handed it to her. She looked up at him out the corner of her eye.

He shot her a tiny smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "Happy Valentine's Day."

"It was yesterday."

"Better late than never."

One corner of her mouth turned up and an eyebrow lifted delicately as she accepted the fancy embossed envelope, a mite grimy after several days' travel across the prairie. Her name was penned in Matt's handwriting on the front. She traced her fingers lingeringly over the raised floral design.

"Go on, honey, open it."

Kitty bit her lip and pulled out an intricately decorated paper lace Valentine. Painted on the front was a single red rose tied in a French blue ribbon. She sighed, "Oh Matt…"

"Look inside," he urged.

Kitty glanced at him. "I'm takin' my time, Cowboy. Things like this don't happen every day, ya' know. Let a gal savor the moment, will ya'?"

Matt grinned at her.

She opened the card carefully and intently looked inside. Then she frowned, stretching her arm toward the bedside table. "I can't reach, Matt."

He obliged her by retrieving the lorgnette on a chain lying atop an open book she'd abandoned before falling asleep.

She held the lorgnette up to her eyes, scanning the printed verse inside the card.

"Read it out loud, honey," he encouraged her.

She bit her lip again and peered at him through her delicate little eyeglasses.

"Go on," he said.

Kitty lowered her eyes and read aloud in a hushed voice the words printed in red ink:

"Take a gift, a flower from me,
Sweetest Valentine.
Simple shall its message be,
My full heart is thine
."

It was signed in ebony India ink, "Through love's eternity, Matt."

Leaning against the pillows, she stared wordlessly at her rugged, virile lover's romantic inscription.

Matt hesitantly asked, "Do you like it?"

Kitty could only nod her head. But she reached a hand to cup his cheek, to thread her fingers through his soft, graying waves. "I love it, Matt. I…" she swallowed the lump in her throat before continuing, "I just don't know what t' say."

Matt was pleased. It wasn't often that he left Kitty speechless. "But that's not all…" He smiled secretively and reached his hand into his jacket again, pulling out a small parcel wrapped in brown paper. "Here…"

She delicately took the proffered package and tugged on the twine tying it together. Inside was a small book bound in soft brown leather.

Matt watched her expectantly as she read aloud from the cover, "Sonnets from the Portuguese by Elizabeth Barrett Browning."

He admitted, "The sales lady at the Wichita Emporium helped me pick it out. I sorta…described you to her," Matt explained a little sheepishly. "…and she said you'd probably like this."

"Oh…" Kitty breathed, unable to articulate her fervent emotions. She opened the leather cover and began thumbing through, stopping when she came upon a dried blade of prairie grass stuck between two pages. She looked up at Matt curiously.

"I, uh… I read it while I was ridin' home. It helped to pass the time. I marked that page cause I thought you might like it."

"This page?"

Matt craned his neck and squinted at her book. "Yep."

Kitty grasped her lorgnette in one hand, held the book open on the bed with the other.

"Read it to me," Matt requested. "The poems sound real nice when you read them out loud."

"Did you read it out loud?" She tried to imagine Matt sitting astride Buck, reading poetry across the vast plains.

"Yep, I did. The prairie dogs weren't impressed, but I sure enjoyed it." His pale blue eyes twinkled at her. "Go on-I like to hear you read, Kitty."

"Oh, Matt…" Kitty mildly protested, cutting her eyes at him.

He licked his lips and grinned. "I mean it." Touching her shoulder, he added, "I like your voice, honey. Read to me."

Kitty took a deep breath and began softly reading the liltingly beautiful words on the small page,

If thou must love me, let it be for nought
Except for love's sake only. Do not say,
"I love her for her smile—her look—her way
Of speaking gently,—for a trick of thought
That falls in well with mine, and certes brought
A sense of pleasant ease on such a day—
For these things in themselves, Beloved, may
Be changed, or change for thee—and love, so wrought,
May be unwrought so. Neither love me for
Thine own dear pity's wiping my cheeks dry:
A creature might forget to weep, who bore
Thy comfort long, and lose thy love thereby!
But love me for love's sake, that evermore
Thou mayst love on, through love's eternity.

Immersed in his thoughts, Matt repeated softly, "…through love's eternity." He bit his lower lip and claimed, "I can't say that I get all of it, but I sure do understand the message."

Lowering her lorgnette, Kitty whispered, "…love me for love's sake."

Matt reached out and stroked her warm cheek. "I do, honey."

Kitty leaned toward him, murmured throatily, "Kiss me, Matt…"

Matt obliged her, tenderly pressing his lips against hers as she slid her arms around his neck, her fingers tangling in the hair at the back of his head.

At her responsive touch, Matt deepened his kiss, his generous lips warm and inviting.

Longing to press her body to his, she began pushing the heavy coat from his shoulders. Matt made a sound deep in his throat, shaking the garment loose from his arms so that he could once again embrace her.

Suddenly, an incongruous sound materialized at Matt's elbow, a tiny voice piping, "Papa!"

Kitty made a small disappointed noise and broke off her kiss. She exclaimed, "Gus, what on earth are you doing out of bed, honey?"

"Papa home!" A red-haired toddler wearing a cotton nightdress stretched chubby arms toward his father.

Kitty sighed, "Matt, your son has started climbing outta his crib. I can't keep him in it anymore."

"My son? Look at 'im." Matt picked the boy up and plopped him into his lap, kissing the top of his red head. The tiny boy, a few small freckles sprinkled on his nose and cheeks, grinned at his father.

Kitty reached to affectionately thread her fingers through Gus's floppy curls and eyed the child. "You should be in bed, young man."

"Papa home…" little Gus happily repeated by way of explanation.

Kitty responded, "Mm-hmm, Papa's home," kissing Matt's sunburned, stubbly face and her child's chubby cheek.

Matt growled and grabbed Gus, holding him in the air while the boy squealed with joy. Matt's eyebrows crept up. "Gus…son, I believe you've grown since I left for Wichita!"

"That's why I can't keep him in his crib, Matt. He's gonna be as big and strong as you."

"I'ma big boy," Gus solemnly pronounced, hanging in mid-air. Then he emitted a peal of giggles that made his mama and papa grin. Matt lowered the boy and pulled him into a bearhug. "Yep, you're my big boy alright."

Kitty eyes misted over, watching them together. Suddenly, Gus turned to look at Kitty, gazed at her earnestly with his big blue eyes. "I'se Mama's boy?"

"Yes, honey, you're my big boy, too." She couldn't help but tenderly smile at the child, the embodiment of the fierce love she and Matt had shared for years.

Gus clambered from his father's lap and onto the bed next to Kitty. He wrapped his arms around her neck, gifting her a sloppy, wet kiss on the cheek. Spying the small book on the bed, he picked it up in his little fists, chirping, "Read, Mama."

Kitty attempted to sound stern. "Gussie, you need to be in bed…"

"Read, Mama," Gus implored, placing two hands on her cheeks, gazing insistently into her eyes.

Matt silently laughed.

Kitty shot him a look and sighed, thumbing through her beautiful little book of love sonnets. "How am I supposed to say no to you two?"

Matt smiled at her lovingly, watching their son nestle under his mother's arm, leaning back with her on the pillow.

"Here we go, my sweet Gus…" And Kitty began to read quietly and earnestly to her two men:

How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.
I love thee to the depth and breadth and height
My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight
For the ends of being and ideal grace.

Little Gus's fat thumb found its way into his cupid's bow mouth, his index finger curling over his nose, as his mama read to him hypnotically exquisite words about her love. She snuggled him closer as she read, his heavily lashed eyes slowly drifting shut as he listened:

I love thee to the level of every day's
Most quiet need, by sun and candle-light.
I love thee freely, as men strive for right;
I love thee purely, as they turn from praise.
I love thee with the passion put to use
In my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith.
I love thee with a love I seemed to lose
With my lost saints. I love thee with the breath,
Smiles, tears, of all my life; and, if God choose,
I shall but love thee better after death.

The rosy-cheeked boy breathed evenly and slowly before he even heard the final strains of the poem, lulled to sleep by his mother's comforting, familiar voice.

Matt leaned in to steal a kiss, first to his son's forehead, and then on his wife's lips. He whispered, "I'm gonna put this little rounder into bed, and then I'll come back in here with you to celebrate Valentine's Day a little bit late. If that's all right by you.."

"Oh, it's alright, Matt." She smiled at him alluringly. "Just make sure you lock our door when you come back. Your son doesn't stay in that bed for long." Kitty raised an eyebrow meaningfully.

Matt leaned in and kissed her deeply, hands threading through her tousled hair. She kissed him back, eager to make up for so much lost time away from his home and his family. He longingly pulled away with a groan.

Sighing, he picked up the boy, gingerly draping Gus over his shoulder like a little rag doll. "I'll be back in a minute."

She retrieved her cherished book of sonnets from the bed, clasping it in her hands, gazing up at the picture made by her big, strong man, holding his tiny but fast-growing son. She murmured, "I'll be waiting."

His voice was gruff with emotion. "I love you, honey."

"I love you, too, Cowboy."

end

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Author's Note: Matt's Valentine poem comes from an 1870's era antique Valentine. Sonnets 14 and 43 from Sonnets from the Portuguese by Elizabeth Barrett Browning, published 1850, is in the public domain. Poetry is meant to be savored, to be read aloud. I agree that you follow Matt's recommendation and read the verses out loud your very own self in a quiet place. They are eminently more rhapsodic when relished in this manner. 😉 I hope you liked this little marshmallow-filled trifle of a story as much as I enjoyed writing it. ~~lj