A/N: Another chapter, guys. I still don't have the statistics of how many persons have been reading this, so please help me out by reviewing.
Chapter 13 – The Thanksgiving Party.
As we approached the middle of November, I watched in amusement the citizens of Fredericksburg entering a state of collective excitement. Katherine explained to me that every year on Thanksgiving Day the local church celebrated the date with a special evening mass; after that, the town hall promoted an animated street fair with lots of foods, dancing, and carnival games. Apparently, it was the most important festivity in town and a great opportunity for young people to meet a future husband or wife – if that's what you were looking for. It was not my case, evidently.
Still, Kitty convinced me I should go to the party 'if only not to raise suspicions amongst the good people of Fredericksburg'. I suspected that she only wanted me to attend it so that James would allow her to go – I happened to know that Pete intended to join the celebration as well. I held back a smirk, pretending I wasn't aware of their feelings for each other.
Thus, on a Saturday afternoon, Katherine and I found ourselves at Worthington's Depot searching for new evening gowns. With his usual cheerfulness, Bobby Drake showed us the latest arrivals that, according to him, were a 'fashion success amongst New York's upper crust ladies'.
The dresses were truly wonderful, and we even dared to try one or two. But of course, we couldn't afford them, so we settled with two beautiful but simpler gowns – mine in burgundy velvet, Kitty's in yellow crepe; we complimented the looks with matching hats. We also picked two dresses, a few socks, and a pair of shoes for Ororo. I paid for everything with the savings I had from work – my way of saying thank you to my good friends.
We were about to leave when Mr. Warren Worthington appeared in front of us, a perfect smile plastered on his handsome face.
"Miss Howlett, what a nice surprise! It's a pleasure to have you here again, madam. You look lovely, as always," he said to me flirtingly, ignoring Kitty completely.
"Thank you, Mr. Worthington. My niece and I were just about to leave-"
"Oh no, not yet. Mr. Drake," he called aloud for Robert, who came immediately, "please show the young Miss Howlett those Parisian boots that have just arrived. Let her pick whichever she likes the most – on the house, of course."
"That won't be necessary, Mr. Worthington. We can-"
The blonde millionaire cut me off by showing me his right palm. "Please. I insist."
Katherine was beyond excited as she followed Drake across the store. That left me alone with Worthington, and I had to remind myself that to him I was a young single lady with an unpretentious background.
"So, Miss Howlett… How's Fredericksburg treating you? Nicely, I hope. You know, if anyone's been rude or unkind to you, you tell me, and I'll make sure that person never speaks to you again. Or speaks at all," he declared, one sparkling blue eye winking jokingly at me.
I giggled in response, trying to keep the tone of our conversation light; yet, on the inside I wondered whether he'd actually do something if I told him about the time Victor Creed had ambushed me in the road. I quickly dismissed that thought.
"That won't be necessary, Mr. Worthington. I've been nothing but welcomed by the people of this town since I arrived. It's almost as if I've lived here my whole life instead of four months only."
"I'm glad to hear it," he told me with a charming grin. "And since you're already so well-acquainted in town, I'm sure you've heard about our upcoming Thanksgiving Party. It's a lovely chance to see and be seen, and I speak from my heart when I say that your presence will make the festivities even more extraordinary this year."
Like many other rich men I had met in the past, Warren seemed relentless in his courting attempts; I, however, no longer had patience for spoiled, adulterous men. I forced out a smile. "I'm not sure what difference my presence will make, Mr. Worthington, but I do intend to go to the party. That's why I'm shopping, actually," I said, motioning to the two clothing boxes that I was holding.
Worthington promptly took the boxes from my hands and carefully placed them on the counter. "I'll have Mr. Drake deliver them to you later, don't worry," he assured me. "But tell me, Miss Howlett, has any gentleman offered to escort you to the festivities yet? Your brother, perhaps?"
I held back the urge to roll my eyes and only shook my head no. "Unfortunately, Logan won't be gracing us with his presence at the party – he says he's too old for social gatherings," I explained. It goes without saying that James preferred to stay home and gather in his bed with his secret girlfriend, the Wind Rider. Lucky him.
"In that case, let me have the pleasure of escorting you, Miss Howlett. I know just where the best delicacy booths are. For instance, you have to try Mrs. Blaire's soft pretzels – they're to die for. Also, I'll make sure that-"
"What about inviting your wife to try one of those pretzels, Mr. Worthington?" We both turned around to see Sheriff Summers standing right beside us with his arms crossed and face stern. "By the way, congratulations on the conception of your fourth child. I hope Mrs. Worthington is feeling well," my boss continued. Then he turned to me, his features softer. "Howdy, Miss Howlett."
Warren's pale complex turned pink, and I couldn't tell if it was from embarrassment or anger. I don't think anyone dared to talk to him like that. "Candance is fine, thank you, Sheriff. What about your wife? Any news from her?"
That was a low blow – even for someone as bold as Worthington. Yet, Summers seemed unshaken as he met the other man's gaze.
"I don't know. Didn't care to ask around," he responded before addressing me again. "I'm sorry to bother you, Miss Howlett, but are you busy? I could use a female opinion on a new suit for Nathan."
I wasn't busy. Plus, I was looking forward to getting rid of Warren's inconvenient company. "Not at all, Sheriff." I turned to the millionaire and curtsied in his direction. "It was nice meeting you again, Mr. Worthington."
"Likewise," he replied politely and left to mind his own business. Still, I was able to notice that under that pristine smile of his there was a man fuming.
I followed my boss to the children's department. It took him less than one minute to choose a whole new outfit for his son.
"I thought you wanted my opinion," I said as we moved to the payment counter, a silly grin forming on my lips.
"Oh. Right." Suddenly embarrassed by his lack of manners, Summers stopped in his tracks to show me the clothes.
"Nate will look very smart in those," I commented, earning a proud nod from the sheriff. Then I remembered something and hurried to the hat racks, returning a second later with a cowboy hat that I thought would fit my apprentice. "Take this as well. Nate will feel more at easy at the party if his scars are partially covered."
Summers beamed at me, and the sincerity of that gesture made my knees go weak. I bet the fella had no idea how attractive he looked when he smiled. "That's very thoughtful of you, Laura. Thank you," he said. He took the hat from my hands, his fingers brushing mine for a moment too long.
"I should be thanking you, Sheriff. Your timing was… well, perfect," I voiced to him as we waited for the lady behind the counter to wrap Nate's clothes. I needed him to know that I wasn't interested in Warren Worthington's looks or money.
My boss snorted. "I've met enough rich men in my life to know when they're being inopportune… especially when there's a beautiful lady involved," he casted me a side-glance as he pronounced those last three words. I couldn't help but blush a little. "Also, you looked like you weren't enjoying the attention."
"I wasn't."
Was I so easy to read? If so, how could Sheriff Summers not have realized who I truly was so far? I concluded that he must be too grateful that I had been helping Nate for the previous months to harbor any suspicions towards me.
I was finishing that thought when he inadvertently dropped some folded paper as he was reaching inside his pocket for his wallet. I bent down to pick it up, noticing that it was a poster. Curiosity got the best of me and demanded that I unfold the paper. My hands started to tremble when I realized whose picture was printed under the 'Wanted Alive' lettering.
Summers thanked me and gently retrieved the poster from my hands. "I was supposed to hang this outside the station, but I had completely forgotten where I had put it."
"Is-is that…?"
"Mrs. Jean Wyngarde, the redhead who assaulted Mr. Shaw last summer. Since our efforts to find her have all been in vain, Marshal Lehnsherr decided to issue this poster to every sheriff station in the Middle-West. If she's alive, someone will have to have seen her."
I took one last look at the poster. The lady staring back from it was young and proud; she had high cheeks, bright eyes, and light-colored hair; she looked rich, innocent, and a little bored… so different from how I felt nowadays. I decided she wasn't me. I couldn't afford to let her be me.
Summers slowly refolded the poster and guarded it back in his pocket. Kitty finally returned after having chosen her new pair of leather boots. Noticing my pale face, she quickly complimented the sheriff and asked me to take her home, saying she suddenly remembered she had left something on the stove.
"Wait," Scott spoke before we could leave. We turned around to meet his anxious gaze. "Laura, would you… would you do the honor of letting me and Nathan escort you to the Thanksgiving celebrations next Saturday?"
I could barely comprehend what he was asking, for I couldn't get my mind off the fact that the sheriff was carrying my criminal photography in his pocket.
"Yes," I responded automatically.
"Great," he replied, smiling again. "See you on Monday."
"Have a nice weekend, Sheriff Summers," Katherine said as she urged me forward with one hand on my arm.
I started sobbing as soon as we climbed onto the wagon. I told Kitty about the poster, and also told Logan and the others during dinner.
"How come Sheriff Summers didn't realize it was you in the picture?" my 'niece' asked.
"I don't know!" I cried desperately, new tears gathering in my eyes. "I mean, I know I look different now – I'm thinner, I've got dark hair, and I don't dress that fancy anymore. But still…"
"Isn't it obvious? The idiot's in love with ya."
I stared at James, shocked. "W-What?"
He sneered at me. "C'mon, Red. Don't tell me ya haven't noticed how he looks at ya."
"He-he doesn't-"
"I have to agree with dad, Jean. The sheriff can't keep his eyes off of you," Kitty added, earning a nod from Peter. Apparently, everyone had an opinion about Summers and me. "Plus, why do you think he invited you to the Thanksgiving party?"
Logan chuckled at that. Ororo watched the whole scene quietly.
"Oh God. Did I… did I accept it?"
"You did!" Katherine answered, smirking at me.
"I…," I cleaned my tears with the reel of my hands, then stared at my 'family' around the table. "Do you think I should go with him?"
"Unless ya wanna get arrested, yeah," James replied in a teasing tone.
"That's not funny, Logan!" I scolded him.
"It is a little," he gave back, laughing.
"Gosh, you're impossible, you know?" I cried, not expecting an answer. I looked at their eyes again. "You really think the sheriff is in love with me?"
"Yes!" Kitty, Logan, and Peter responded in unison.
We finished eating and I stood up to take care of the dishes. They all left the kitchen except for Ororo who lingered behind. She placed a hand on my shoulder.
"Question is… what Fire Bringer's heart say of lawman?"
I wanted to respond 'nothing', but the truth was I no longer knew that answer.
The following days ran by uneventfully, to my sheer relief. So far, no one in Fredericksburg seemed to have linked the wanted redhead to me, especially not the sheriff.
Speaking of him, we barely saw each other during that next week since he was too busy ascertaining that every criminal in town and surrounding areas was put behind bars before the Thanksgiving festivities. Ironically, the most wanted of them wandered freely through his house. Every time I thought about that, I felt sick with myself.
Nonetheless, I caught myself looking forward to the party. When Saturday finally arrived, I made sure to complete all my chores around the ranch in time to take a long bath and get ready for the occasion. I fixed mine and Kitty's hair, then applied some light make-up on my face before helping her to do the same. Only after that we put on our new gowns.
"Phweee," Logan whistled once we left our bedroom. "Ya ladies tryin' to steal all the attention to yerselves?"
"Oh dad!" Kitty exclaimed, blushing profusely. She did look radiant in her yellow dress.
Then Peter -wearing a full suit and tie- entered the kitchen. Seeing Katherine, his jaw dropped and he almost forgot to give her the bunch of wildflowers he had in his hands.
"What's that supposed to mean?" James inquired crossly, until Ororo whispered something to him in her strange language that the rest of us couldn't understand but was enough to soothe his anger.
"We'll be back before ten, Mr. Logan," Pete said.
"Ya bet ya will!" my 'brother' countered.
Since Kitty refused to climb on a horse's back, Peter had recently asked me to teach him how to drive a wagon, which I did; therefore, my company was no longer necessary to them.
"Ain't ya goin' with those two?" James asked me.
"No. The sheriff is picking me up," I explained.
"Humph. Why can't ya go with Kitty and Pete and meet Summers in town?"
"Like you said, Logan… so I don't get arrested."
He growled and scowled at me. Ororo and I couldn't help but laugh at his fatherly jealousy.
"Calm down, will you? Peter is a respectful young man," I remembered him.
We suddenly heard horses entering the property. Ororo quickly hid in the bedroom while James and I calmly walked outside onto the porch. Nathan jumped out of his father's stagecoach and ran to meet me by the last step. Like the little gentleman he was, he removed his new cowboy hat with his left hand and with the right one gave me a single pink rose.
"For you, Miss Howlett. 'Cause you are as pretty as a flower."
"Why, thank you, Mr. Summers!" I said to that sweet, sweet boy while Logan chuckled "What a charmer" behind me. Having taken a moment to secure his horses, the sheriff finally caught up to us.
"Good evening, Logan. Miss Howlett," he took off his hat and bowed to me. I noticed him catching his breath as our eyes met. "You look lovely."
"Thank you." I heard James chuckling again. "Shall we go?"
"After you."
Nathan took my hand in his and walked me to the stagecoach. Sheriff Summers lingered behind us for a second to hear something that Logan had to say. I trusted my friend enough not to try to listen in.
I sat beside Nate on the passenger's seat and used the opportunity to attach the rose to my already flowered bonnet. The boy smiled in approval and revealed to me that I had read his thoughts right, because he had been dying to have a cowboy hat of his own. Then the sheriff climbed onto the driver's seat in front of us.
"Ready to go?"
"Yes!" Nathan replied excitedly.
Summers was a careful driver, much more careful than Kurt, Logan, or me. He expertly conducted the small stagecoach along the dirty road, urging his two horses to move faster or slower according to the ground's condition. The mass was scheduled to start at six o'clock, but we made it to the church half-an-hour in advance.
"I'd like you to meet someone," the sheriff said, offering me his arm to guide me towards the altar. As we walked together along the side aisle, I felt many eyes falling on us, but my escort didn't seem the least bothered by them. "This is Father Xavier, the local priest and a good friend of mine," he explained to me.
Father Xavier was a bald middle-aged man with a kind smile and a leg disability. He took my right gloved hand in his and kissed the top of it.
"It's very nice to finally meet you, Miss Howlett. I've heard a lot about you."
That came as a surprise. I knew that the sheriff was a devoted Christian who did his fair share of charity and went to morning mass every Sunday; I had no idea that he talked to his priest about me. That made me smile.
"It's my pleasure to meet you, Father."
"Scott has told me how much you've been helping him and Nathan. They're very lucky to have you around." I quickly glanced at the sheriff and noticed that he was blushing. "Can I hope to see you in here more often, Miss Howlett? I believe this is the first time you've been in this church."
"Maybe," I responded. I hadn't felt very close to God in a while.
Xavier laughed at my sincerity. "It's a better answer than the one your brother gave me last time we talked," he told me. That didn't surprise me at all.
Summers and I let the priest return to his preparations and sat together on a wooden pew chair, Nathan between us. I could see Peter and Katherine sitting side-by-side a few rows in front of us, very busy whispering things to each other. They seemed relaxed. I felt happy for them.
But Emma Frost, who occupied the chair to our right, was clearly unhappy to see the sheriff and me sitting together. She kept throwing ugly glares at us and mouthing Lord knows what to her associates. On that moment, I recalled Jason's words: "Let them stare."
The mass began on time. Father Xavier's words about gratitude and forgiveness touched me deeply, and I even felt my eyes getting wet for a couple of moments during his preaching. I realized I had a lot to be thankful for and started to seriously consider attending mass more often.
We greeted a few acquaintances in our way out, Sam and his family included. His sister Joelle hugged Nate and asked if he wanted to join her and her siblings in spinning tops. He wanted to, of course.
"I'll keep an eye on them," Samuel offered.
That left the sheriff and I to wander the streets alone. As we walked, we talked about Nathan, our friends, Fredericksburg, and even past loves. Then we stopped before a food stand to have wine and roast beef sandwiches. We met Dr. McCoy and his wife, Patricia; from a distance, we saw Warren Worthington accompanied by a young woman who was definitely not Mrs. Worthington; we also ran into Lucas Bishop, Bobby Drake, and Miss Alison Blaire.
"You should try my mother's pretzels," the blonde saleswoman recommended. Summers and I shared a knowing smile and promised we'd try the famous dainty later.
As the evening went by, the local music band quitted playing Christian carols and instead chose to perform some of Buffalo Bill's Wild West songs, so popular back in the day. I didn't know any of the lyrics, but I found them much more entertaining than the string quartets I was used to listen to in New York. Life was definitely merrier in the West.
Nate finally joined us again, hungry and sweaty after hours of playing with his new friends. "You know, this is your fault, Laura," the sheriff hissed to me.
"What?" I asked worriedly. I had no idea what I had done wrong.
"My son acting like a normal kid and having fun. That's all your fault," he elaborated, a broad grin on his face. I smiled at him.
Nathan had apple juice and a full hot dog. When he was done eating, we accompanied him to a few game booths, his favorite being the 'shoot the duck' game. As expected from a sheriff, his father didn't miss one card duck; I, on the other hand, couldn't get one target straight.
"Thank God you're a tutor and not a gunslinger, Laura," Summers teased me as he tried to teach me how to operate the pellet gun.
The cheerful environment and his enticing proximity must have made me feel bold, because I suddenly whispered to him, "Thank God I have you to strike my targets, Sheriff." It ended up sounding more sensual than I had intended.
I watched his Adam's apple rising and falling as he slowly gulped. "Scott. You can call me Scott, Laura. We've known each other for a while now… there's no need to keep up the formalities."
"All right. Scott."
At that point of the night, all logic and rational thought had left my mind and I no longer cared. I was in love with Scott Summers, I realized. Despite all my efforts and promises to never fall for a man again, I had fallen for him. Hard.
After some more rounds, Nathan became tired. We walked back to the church where the stagecoach had been parked and, as soon as we started to drive, the boy fell asleep in my arms. We reached the sheriff's house in no time.
"Make yourself comfortable, Laura. I'll put Nate to bed and be back in a minute to take you home."
I used the opportunity to gather my thoughts. Falling in love with Scott Summers was a dangerous game, and I needed to pull back before it was too late. I was going to tell him that I had had a wonderful evening, then I would hop up onto that stagecoach and let he take me back to the ranch. And on Monday, I wouldn't dare to call him by his first name. The formalities between us were more than necessary.
Except that love isn't a game, and when Scott returned to the living room with a bright smile on his face and told me he'd never seen his son so happy, all I wanted to do was kiss him senseless.
I guess the sheriff was the true mind-reader in the end because he slowly approached me and thanked me for the wonderful evening he'd just had. Then he stroked my left cheek and told me how beautiful I was, and how jealous he had been of Warren Worthington when he saw him flirting with me in the store.
He leaned in my direction, brushing his soft lips against mine. Completely mesmerized by that man, all I could do was invite him inside.
We slowly explored each other's mouths, savoring that intimate sensation; but after a moment, it became too hot. I took off his jacket and felt the muscles of his arms under his shirt; he removed my bonnet and let my long black curls fall around my face and back. We kissed again, this time eagerly. He pulled me closer and started planting wet kisses on my jaw and neck. My eyes became unfocused, and I almost passed out with wanton.
"Wait," Summers stopped all of a sudden. It seemed as if he had just woken up from a trance, the same trance I had been in. He gently held my face between his strong hands. "Laura, I… I-I love you. I really love you. And as much as I want you right now, we shouldn't be doing this. It's not right."
"Scott…"
"I need you to know that I love and respect you. This…" he let go of my face to gesture to himself, "this isn't me. I'm usually a composed man, but when I… when I'm around you… you do things to me. You make me feel alive in a way that I've never felt before. You make me happy, Laura."
His words made me joyful and sad at the same time. I was standing before a man who deserved to be constantly happy. Unlike me, Scott was good and decent; he was honest, so honest that he was baring his heart and soul to me even though he had no clue of what I felt for him. I did love him, but I couldn't reciprocate – not with the truth, at least; so instead, I wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled him in for an unhurried, passionate kiss. When we broke apart, I whispered, "I love you too. And I want you."
His brown eyes locked onto my green ones. "Laura, I-I…"
"Show me that you love me, Scott. Make love to me."
"Laura, we can't…"
"Don't make me beg."
Without another second of hesitation, he cupped me in his arms and carried me upstairs to his bedroom. He carefully placed me on his bed, then crawled on top of me to kiss my lips before he began to slowly strip me. I mimicked his actions until we were both only in our undergarments.
He kissed me again, tenderly. "Are you sure, Laura?"
I responded by removing my corset. Even in the dark room, I could see the sheriff's pupils widening.
The rest of the night was too especial to tell; suffice it to say that Scott and I shared our love like we hadn't shared it with anyone else in the world.
I slept in his arms for the rest of the night. My sleeping was calm and dreamless, for I had just lived my most wanted dreams.