A/N #1: Sincere apologies to everyone for the unintentionally long delay since the last Yellow Rose update back in April. I stepped aside to write a new one shot back in May (A Steadfast Heart), and then unfortunately, after that, I've been working through some writers block as well as dealing with a health issue for the past couple months that really interfered with my writing time. I had every intention of this being the final chapter of this story, but it seemed Wyatt and Lucy had other ideas, lol. So there should be at least one more chapter to come...or maybe two? Who knows? Thanks for your endless patience, Timeless friends :)
Epilogue - Part Three
Saturday, April 30
It was almost time. Wyatt was able to think of little else as he began washing up before shaving. In only a few hours, Lucy would become his wife. He still had trouble believing it. Meeting a woman, falling in love and getting married again was something Wyatt never expected in a million years (or felt he deserved, to be honest) even after becoming a widower at such a young age. How rare it was to be given a second chance for love and eventually (he hoped), more children. Wyatt felt truly blessed.
Of course, now that his wedding day had finally arrived, time felt like it was slowing down in the contrary way it often did–which only added to his eagerness to marry Lucy. Wyatt couldn't help but marvel at the excitement and happiness (and yes, hope for the future) filling his heart, after months of grieving for Jess and Mattie. And it was all due to the fine woman the Lord in His infinite wisdom had sent to Wyatt.
Shrugging into his coat, he stood in front of the mirror to fix the tie hanging loosely around his neck. Too bad Gran was leaving with Lucy and Gramps for the preacher's house any time now and couldn't help him with it. Betsy Sherwin always took great pride in making sure her grandson looked his best on Sundays and special occasions, and it had been that way since the day he came to ranch at the age of three. A man couldn't ask for a better mother, Wyatt thought fondly.
But soon enough, Wyatt reasoned, he'd have a new wife to see to little things like tying his tie and other personal stuff...a comforting thought, indeed. Somberly regarding his reflection when he was finished, he lightly touched the tips of his fingers to his freshly-shaved cheek, lips curving in a smile. Wyatt swore he could still feel the gentle press of Lucy's soft mouth on his skin from earlier...
Flashback
Once the men were done eating, Wyatt cleared the table and carried the dirty dishes into the kitchen where Martha was draping a clean white cheesecloth over the wedding cake. Made of dark chocolate with thick white icing, it was one of her special recipes-usually made for Christmas Day-and filled the kitchen with a heavenly smell. After learning it was a particular favorite of Lucy's, she'd insisted on making it for their wedding. Glancing over her shoulder at him, she directed Wyatt to set the dishes in the sink.
"You didn't have to do that, Wyatt, not on your wedding day," the housekeeper chided, smacking Wyatt's hand when he tried to sneak a peek under the cloth. "I appreciate the help, son, but you should be getting your handsome self cleaned up for your bride...go on now and mind, take that hot water with you," she ordered, shooing him away. "Don't you worry, this cake and I will both be ready to go when you are."
"Yes, Ma'am," he grinned, kissing Martha's cheek before dutifully grabbing the pail of water she had thoughtfully left warming on top of the stove and taking it to his room. The upstairs hallway was empty, and while it was tempting to think about stopping at Lucy's door and maybe stealing a kiss, he knew she was probably getting dressed and it wouldn't be right to distract her. Too bad. Wyatt consoled himself with the very pleasant knowledge that after today, he would have the rest of his life to steal as many kisses as he liked (and as often as he wanted, too.)
Grinning at the thought, Wyatt carefully poured the steaming water into the basin and set the pail down to take back to the kitchen later. He began unbuttoning his shirt and was just slipping it off his shoulders when there was a quiet knock on his door. Assuming it was his grandpa, he didn't bother to re-button the shirt, just opened the door. To his surprise, Lucy was standing there.
"May I come in?" she whispered hesitantly, ducking inside when Wyatt opened the door wider, closing his eyes briefly as the faint scent of violets filled his nose. He hurriedly glanced down the deserted hallway before closing it behind her. No need for his grandmother to know they were alone together in Wyatt's room, even if they would soon be officially man and wife. Glancing at Lucy expectantly, he waited for her to speak, but for some reason, she didn't. They stared at each other silently while the air between them grew heavy. He bit back a muffled groan when her wide eyes dropped to his bare chest.
Wyatt could almost physically feel the curiosity, the yearning in her gaze. It seemed a safe bet he was the first man Lucy had ever seen without a shirt–and his masculine pride rather liked the notion. His skin prickled with desire at the mere thought that soon it would be more–much more-than just those pretty eyes he felt on his body. Merciful God...
"Lucy?" he asked in a strained voice, "Is everything alright? Did you need something?" He felt himself relax a little when it took the normally proper young lady a fair minute (or two) to regain her composure. Her reaction to his naked chest was reassuring as well as flattering, and he couldn't help wondering how Lucy would react later on at seeing all of him–which naturally sent his heart racing all over again. Not helping here, Logan.
Heaven only knew Wyatt could hardly wait to slowly peel every stitch of clothing from her slender body and introduce his new wife to the joys of marital intimacy. Easy, son, he could almost hear the sheriff caution in a mocking tone. Not now, Dave, he muttered, briefly shaking his head to rid it of his friend's annoying voice. Wyatt watched Lucy intently, fighting the instinct to steal the kiss he was wanting earlier since she didn't seem to be all that interested in conversation at the moment.
She jerked her wandering eyes to his face and stammered, "Fine...I'm fine...uh, I meant to give you my mother's ring for the ceremony last night but forgot." Abruptly thrusting her hand at him, he saw the thin gold band set with emeralds lying on Lucy's palm, glittering in the sunlight. She'd told Wyatt not long after he asked her to marry him that Henry Preston had set aside the elegant ring for his only daughter's future wedding day, so Wyatt knew how much the ring (and gesture) meant to Lucy. And it wouldn't be long now until he would be slipping it on her slim finger to wear for the rest of her life.
Reaching for the band and dropping it in his pants pocket, he grinned sheepishly. "Have to admit, sweetheart, I did forget about your mama's ring. Must have been preoccupied giving you a good night kiss or two." As he spoke, Wyatt moved nearer to Lucy, pleased by the soft color immediately pinking her cheeks. "You know, I'm kinda glad you had to bring the ring to me," he confided, taking her hand and pulling her closer, "because even if it wouldn't be considered proper, it means I get to see you one last time before we leave for the church." As always, making Lucy Preston blush was very enjoyable, but then she turned the tables on him...
"I'm glad, too," Lucy whispered, shocking the hell out of him by reaching up to delicately brush her fingertips over his bare chest. Now Wyatt's skin felt like it was burning from the inside out...from a single touch. Jesus. He was likely to go up in flames the first time they made love–and decided he'd die a happy man. Even as Wyatt was leaning down to kiss her for the last time before they exchanged vows, the sound of his Gran's voice loudly calling Lucy's name came from the other side of the door. Dammit, Betsy.
Reluctantly, Wyatt drew back. Gently running his finger along her warm, rosy cheek, he assured Lucy in a low voice, "I will see you at the altar, Miss Preston. Better be going now or we're sure to get a scolding." She nodded dejectedly and started to turn away before whirling around and hastily kissing Wyatt's cheek.
"I will be there, Mr. Logan," Lucy promised solemnly, soft brown eyes dancing at his startled expression. Wyatt stared at the door in bemusement after she quietly closed it behind her. Little minx. He wondered idly if the teacher had any idea the effect her innocent touch had on him–not that it mattered in the end. Damn. He'd bet good money that in no time at all, his pretty new wife would have him wrapped around her little finger–and Wyatt couldn't deny he found the notion rather entertaining...
End Flashback
Yeah, though he hadn't planned on seeing Lucy before the ceremony, Wyatt was pleased she found a reason to stop by his room. Spending even those few minutes with her had been wonderful, a tiny taste of the evening to come. He grinned ruefully at his reflection. Now if only the hours until they returned to the ranch as Mr. and Mrs. Logan would pass just a little faster...
It was almost time. The early afternoon sunlight slanted lazily through the windows while a light spring breeze stirred the thin white curtains. Dimly aware of the others chattering happily only a few feet away, Lucy gazed at herself in the tall oval mirror set in one corner of Mrs. Spencer's simply furnished bedroom in wonder. Reluctant to risk getting fine red Texas dust all over her beautiful wedding dress during the ride into Brady, she'd been grateful when the pastor's wife pulled her good friend Betsy aside after church services last Sunday and kindly invited the Sherwins and Lucy to stop at their home before the ceremony so the women could change into their wedding finery.
James was waiting with the pastor in the front parlor to drive them to the church. While it might seem to be a journey of merely a few minutes, in Lucy's opinion, it was the most important of her life-even more so than the trip that brought her all the way from California five years ago. This particular journey, her last as an unmarried woman, would take Lucy to meet the man she was to wed and spend the rest of her life with. Very important, indeed.
From the time the carriage came to a stop in front of the modest parsonage, the minutes flew by in a flurry of activity. While Mrs. Sherwin changed into her own Easter dress, Miss Spencer, who turned out to have a deft hand with fixing ladies hair, wasted no time playfully ordering Lucy to sit down so they could get started. The young blonde's nimble fingers thoroughly brushed the bride's waist-length dark curls until they shone before neatly coiling a simple braid at the base of her neck. Gently pulling a few wispy strands to frame Lucy's face becomingly, she then carefully placed a dainty crown of fragrant wild flowers gathered and woven by the Larson sisters on her head.
Standing back to admire her handiwork, Julie nodded in satisfaction. "My goodness, you surely do make a beautiful bride, Miss Preston. Mr. Logan is a lucky man," she declared firmly. Murmuring her thanks for the sincere compliment, Lucy thought privately that it was she who was the lucky one, to be marrying such a fine man. Now that her hair was all done, it was time to change into her wedding dress. Ducking behind the folding divider screen for privacy, Lucy quickly shed her dress and petticoats with shaking hands before standing in front of the women wearing her chemise, bloomers and good corset.
While Mrs. Spencer and her niece helped Lucy step into her Sunday petticoats and tie the ribbons snugly around her thin waist, Mrs. Sherwin draped the ivory dress with tiny yellow rosebuds across the bed to smooth out any creases. Then the dress was gingerly dropped over the bride's head and the many small buttons up the back and at her elbows were fastened. "No peeking just yet," Julie admonished when Lucy tried to look over her shoulder in the mirror. She stood quietly and let herself get fussed over, suspecting the three women were enjoying themselves as much as the bride. The fine material felt cool on her flushed skin, and Lucy couldn't help turning her hips slightly from side to side, enjoying the way the full skirt gently swished against her legs. Mrs. Larson was a skilled seamstress indeed, for it was truly one of the loveliest dresses she'd ever possessed.
At last they stepped back, each one wearing a wide smile. Lucy shivered and took as deep a breath as her corset would allow before turning to face the mirror. She gasped softly at her reflection. Even though she'd already worn the dress weeks earlier on Easter Sunday, somehow, in this special moment, the gown looked different...more formal, more elegant. Maybe it was because she felt different? Lucy's days as an unmarried woman were rapidly drawing to a close. In a very short amount of time, she would become Wyatt's wife.
Clasping her trembling hands tightly at her waist, Lucy willed her pounding heart to settle, lest she become light headed. It wouldn't do to faint at the groom's feet when she finally got to the church, she told herself sternly (though, unsurprisingly, the mere thought of Wyatt patiently waiting for her at the altar did little to quell the flutters of anticipation coursing through her body).
While Lucy had certainly been looking forward to exchanging vows with her handsome cowboy for weeks now, only privately could she admit a part of her was even more excited about how this special day would end...with Wyatt introducing her to the intimacies of married life. Oh, my. Perhaps it wasn't very ladylike of her, but somehow her natural curiosity, combined with the deep love she felt for the man she was about to marry, didn't allow for Lucy to think of much else. Fighting the urge to fan her heated cheeks in front of the others, she took several shallow breaths, praying the heightened color in her face would be attributed to the general excitement of the day–and not her increasingly immodest thoughts, especially after seeing Wyatt without his shirt this morning...
Flashback
Once Mrs. Sherwin left to finish getting dressed, there was a knock on the door. It was Martha with hot water for Lucy's toilette. "Martha! How thoughtful...you didn't have to go to the trouble of doing that, I could've gotten the water myself," she told her gratefully, taking the steaming pail from the housekeeper and handing over the tray of dirty dishes in return.
Waving away Lucy's concern, the older woman declared briskly, "No trouble at all, Miss Lucy. After all, if there was ever a day a woman deserved a little pampering, it's her wedding day." Touched, Lucy smiled and politely thanked Martha for both the breakfast tray and hot water before she left. Goodness. Having Mrs. Sherwin and the housekeeper looking after her so was unexpected, but very nice, and definitely went a long way to easing the lingering ache in her heart from not having her father here to share her special day with. I always miss you, Papa, but even more today, Lucy sighed wistfully. Still, in her heart, she knew both her parents were watching from heaven on this most special of days for their only child.
Enough melancholy. Today was for celebrating a new stage in Lucy's life, and it was time to get moving. Since she had bathed and washed her hair last night, it was only a matter of minutes for her to freshen up before changing into a skirt and one of her new summer shirtwaists for the ride into Brady. Standing in front of the oval mirror hanging above the wash basin, Lucy was pulling her dark wavy hair back in a loose tail when she suddenly remembered the ring. Her mother's beautiful wedding band, to be exact, the one Wyatt would be sliding on her finger later on. She'd retrieved the ring from her jewelry pouch days ago and laid it on the table beside the bed.
Lucy meant to give him the band last night, but might've gotten distracted by his very enjoyable goodnight kiss...well, kisses, to be perfectly accurate. Flattered by her groom's obvious reluctance to part at bed time–even though it would hopefully be the last night spent apart for the rest of their lives–Lucy had forgotten all about the elegant gold ring that once upon a time had belonged to Caroline Preston. Her heartbroken Papa saved it after his wife passed away for this very day, a sentimental gesture that meant the world to Lucy. Wyatt really should have it in his possession before any of them left for town, she reasoned. (Besides, it would give her one last chance to see him before they met at the altar.)
Peeking out her bedroom door, she was relieved to see no one around. After all, there was no need to risk Mrs. Sherwin's disapproval (despite the fact she and Wyatt would soon be married). Hurrying down the hallway, seconds later, Lucy was standing outside his door. When it opened, she smiled to herself at the surprised expression on his handsome face.
"May I come in?" she whispered hesitantly, ducking inside when Wyatt inclined his head and opened the door wider before closing it quietly. For a long moment, they looked at each other, the wedding band clutched tightly in Lucy's hand all but forgotten when her eyes dropped and she realized Wyatt's shirt was practically hanging off his broad shoulders...leaving his chest uncovered. Right then and there, she should have modestly averted her eyes until he was covered again...should have begged his pardon and turned her back...
But in that moment, Lucy was powerless to do anything but blush hotly and stare like a child wanting a treat at the candy shop. Every ounce of the good manners drilled into her from girlhood on about being a proper lady-as well as the rigid societal rules taught by her finishing school instructors-completely evaporated as she gazed at his bare chest in fascination. And was it any wonder? At the ripe old age of twenty five, she'd never seen a man without a shirt in person before, not even her ailing father, whose faithful valet tended to his personal needs to the very end of Henry's life.
These were extremely different circumstances, though. Standing in front of her (close enough to touch) was a young, healthy male in his prime–a man who worked hard outdoors for a living, oftentimes without a shirt, and had the physical fitness to prove it. Having been held in Wyatt's arms often enough to know how strong he was, Lucy of course had no idea what he looked like without clothing–that wouldn't be proper. She shivered faintly, unable to keep from noticing that unlike her pale skin, Wyatt's was lightly tanned, his stomach pleasingly flat and muscled-and every single feminine instinct Lucy possessed wanted nothing more in that instant but to touch him...all over, God help her...
"Lucy?" Wyatt asked patiently, "Is everything alright? Did you need something?" His husky voice gradually penetrated the thick haze of curiosity (and longing) that seemed to be clouding Lucy's mind-and effortlessly demolishing her usual inhibitions as well. Her skin felt strangely hot, heart racing wildly as if she'd been running. Was this what marital desire felt like? she wondered dreamily, taken aback by the strength of these feelings (and the surprising lack of concern she felt over her less-than-ladylike behavior). My goodness, Lucy, you're making a fool of yourself...
She hastily jerked her wandering eyes to his face and replied breathlessly, "Fine...I'm fine...uh, I meant to give you my mother's ring last night for the ceremony but forgot." Abruptly thrusting her hand at him to reveal the thin gold band set with emeralds lying on her palm, Lucy hoped to distract Wyatt from her embarrassingly forward reaction to his state of undress. Thankfully, it appeared to work and his slight frown faded.
Reaching for the gold band and dropping it in his pants pocket, he gave her a boyish grin. "Have to admit, sweetheart, I did forget about your mama's ring. Must have been preoccupied giving you a good night kiss or two." As he spoke, Wyatt moved closer to Lucy, and her already heightened senses tingled at his nearness. "You know, I'm kinda glad you had to bring the ring to me, sweetheart," he shared, taking her hand in his, "because even if it wouldn't be considered proper by a certain older lady we know (they both smiled at the reference), it means I get to see you one last time before we leave for the church." His dark blue eyes gleamed mischievously.
"I'm glad, too," Lucy whispered, shocking both of them by impulsively giving into her growing desires when it came to this man and lightly stroking trembling fingertips over his bare chest. As she imagined, Wyatt's skin was warm and smooth to the touch. Lucy was startled, yet quite pleased, by his barely audible groan (hopefully, that meant he liked her touching him), and shamelessly lifted her chin in hopes of being kissed. Just as Wyatt's head lowered, the sound of Mrs. Sherwin's voice loudly calling Lucy's name came from the other side of the door. She hid a dismayed frown at the ill-timed interruption.
Reluctantly, Wyatt drew back. Tenderly running his finger along her rosy cheek, he assured Lucy in a low voice, "I will see you at the altar, Miss Preston. Better be going now or we're sure to get a scolding." Disappointed but knowing he spoke the truth, Lucy nodded and turned toward the door before abruptly whirling around and pressing a gentle kiss to Wyatt's stubbled cheek.
"I will be there, Mr. Logan," she promised gravely, discreetly inhaling the masculine scent that was uniquely his. Why did he always smelled so good? Lucy smiled wistfully as she let herself out of his room when it occurred to her the next time the two of them would be alone in this room together, they would be married...and she'd be seeing much more than just Wyatt's bare chest...
End Flashback
She started at the gentle touch on her wrist. "You look lovely, Lucy, a real picture," Betsy assured her warmly. "The groom might well have trouble remembering his wedding vows once he sees you in this dress." Blushing in pleasure, Lucy smiled fondly at their shared reflection in the mirror. Not only was she going to spend the rest of her life with the man she loved with all her heart, today Lucy would become part of his family, and in the process, gain kind, loving surrogate parents in Betsy and James Sherwin.
"I must confess that after watching Wyatt grieve so fiercely over losing Jess and little Mattie, I nearly lost hope he would ever meet another woman worth risking his heart for," the older woman said, lightly squeezing Lucy's arm. "But the Lord works in mysterious ways, and finally my prayers were answered when you decided to take the teaching position here. From the day we met, I realized what a special young woman you are, which gave me hope that perhaps you and Wyatt might develop a fondness for each other, and possibly stronger feelings, the kind that eventually lead to marriage. And now here we are, on your wedding day. Bless you, Lucy Preston, for helping to heal my grandson's broken heart. I know the two of you are going to have a wonderful life together."
Overcome with emotion, Lucy's lips trembled and her eyes began to fill. "Here, now, no tears, dearest, even happy ones," Betsy chided gently. "You don't want to meet your groom at the altar with red, puffy eyes." Pulling a dainty white hankie from her sleeve, she dabbed at the corners of Lucy's eyes. "There, no harm done and pretty as ever. Good thing, because it's time to leave for the church now." Lucy nodded, and blinking back a last stray tear, gathered her bouquet of wild flowers from the top of the dresser. Squaring her narrow shoulders, she followed the other women from the room. I will see you soon, my love...
Wyatt pulled the larger of the two ranch carriages to a stop off to one side of the church, not far from the tables already set up under the trees for the small reception after the ceremony. Though it was a little while yet until the ceremony, he noticed a couple of Gran's friends had arrived and were busily smoothing white cloths over the tables in preparation for the lemonade and various baked goods that would be served to their guests. The most important of these desserts of course, was his wedding cake, resting securely in a place of honor on the second seat beside Martha. Wearing her best Sunday dress, the housekeeper held a flat woven basket filled with bluebonnets picked just this morning to decorate the cake and tables.
Riding up front beside him, Jonah jumped down to politely offer his hand to Martha before helping Wyatt carry the cake over to one of the tables while the gray-haired woman followed, keeping a sharp eye on their every step. "Here, now, take care with what you're doing. It's considered very bad luck for the bride and groom if you two drop this cake," she warned, frowning when Wyatt chuckled and winked at Jonah, who grinned. "Don't you laugh at me, Wyatt Logan, I mean business, young man."
"Yes, Ma'am," he replied cheerfully, wiping the mirth from his face as the two men slowly walked the dense, heavy cake over and set it in the center of a table precisely where Martha directed. Asking the ranch hand to drive the carriage over to the livery for his grandparents' use tomorrow, Wyatt watched in appreciation as she lifted the cloth from the cake and setting it aside, began meticulously placing brightly-colored stems of bluebonnets around the base. It was a well-known fact around Brady that their Martha was very talented when it came to baking, start to finish. As he recalled, the housekeeper had taken great pride in making his first wedding cake as well. Slipping his arm around her waist when she was done, Wyatt affectionately kissed her worn cheek.
"It sure is a pretty cake, Miss Martha. Looks delicious and smells even better, and I know Lucy will be thrilled. Thank you for doing this for us," he whispered, not surprised in the least when she sniffed and pulled a clean hankie from her sleeve to discreetly dab at her eyes.
"You're very welcome, son," Martha said briskly after a moment, clearing her throat and tucking away the hankie. "One last thing I want to say, Wyatt You're a good man who suffered a near unbearable loss, but in your sorrow, the Lord saw fit to send you a fine young woman like Miss Lucy to be your helpmate, and I know in my heart the two of you are going to be very happy." Her words had always carried a lot of weight with Wyatt, and he swallowed hard at the sudden rush of emotion making his throat feel thick.
Patting his cheek in understanding when he didn't speak right away, the older woman said, "No more serious talk, then, on this joyful day. Also, before I forget, I set aside a plate of sandwiches in the kitchen for later on tonight if you and your bride get hungry and decide to leave your room." She chuckled knowingly when a red-faced Wyatt muttered his thanks. "I better get to decorating the rest of the tables before half the town shows up." They turned at the sound of someone shouting Wyatt's name. It was Rufus wearing a wide smile. The housekeeper promised she'd see him after the ceremony before turning back to her task.
"There he is-the man of the hour!" Rufus exclaimed, grabbing Wyatt's hand and shaking it firmly. "How are you doing, Wy? Not nervous, I hope?" Before he answer, right on the blacksmith's heels came the sheriff, grinning from ear to ear.
"Captain Logan! A fine day for a wedding, indeed," Dave declared amiably, nodding at Rufus. The men stood for a few minutes talking until Wyatt decided he'd be more at ease waiting somewhere else now that more guests were arriving. (And never comfortable being the center of attention, he definitely didn't want to go inside and stand at the altar getting stared at while people were taking their seats.) Followed by his friends, Wyatt headed around the side of the church and with a deep breath, sat on one of the wooden benches beneath a leafy shade tree, willing himself to stay calm.
The minutes continued to leisurely tick away, and Wyatt was grateful for the presence of Rufus and Dave to keep him company until it was time to join the pastor at the altar. From around the front of the building, he could hear the distant sound of voices and bridles jingling as the wedding guests appeared in a steady stream. Too unsettled to make any kind of normal conversation with his friends, he stood and paced back and forth, dimly aware of the other two bickering casually about nothing in particular-as they tended to do more often than not. Most of the time, Wyatt found such interactions quite amusing, but today he had more important things on his mind. Like marrying the woman he loved...
Wyatt's mind drifted from the imminent ceremony (where he would say his solemn vows to Lucy and put a ring on her small hand to proclaim to all the world she was his) to the end of this day when the two of them would spend their first married night together. To his chagrin, taking sweet Lucy to bed was all he'd been able to think about for days now, leaving a preoccupied Wyatt unable to concentrate fully on his many responsibilities around the ranch (something he suspected his always perceptive grandpa had noticed). Damn, but his emotions were all over the place, constantly torn between desire, anticipation and concern-like some wet-behind-the-ears boy who'd never even kissed a girl.
Naturally, while Wyatt hoped to make his virginal new wife's introduction to marital intimacies as pleasurable as possible for her, unfortunately, it had admittedly been some time since he'd been with a woman in that way-not since the last night he spent with Jess–and he worried things might, well, progress way faster than they should for her first time with a man. Hell, Wyatt hadn't even so much as looked at another woman since the day his wife died. He groaned under his breath.
As a strong, healthy male in the prime of his years, the long months of self-enforced celibacy since losing Jess had been rough, especially when his sorrow eased some as the days slowly passed, and surprisingly, he began to actually feel emotions again. And then a sweet, kind, beautiful stranger had unexpectedly fallen into his arms barely three months ago, almost instantly stirring up Wyatt's senses something fierce. Small wonder his poor deprived body had gotten more tense (so to speak) by the day...
Thankfully, the newlyweds would have the big ranch house to themselves until after church services tomorrow afternoon since his grandparents were staying the night at the parsonage–a kind invitation made by the Spencers that offered the new man and wife a chance to share the first hours of their marriage in complete privacy. Not too much longer now, Wyatt told himself, his hand absently inching towards the pocket watch in his vest pocket to discreetly check the time.
"Leave that damn timepiece alone, brother," Dave reprimanded in an exasperated tone. "I swear it hasn't even been five minutes since the last time you looked at that thing." Wyatt glared at the other man despite the guilty flush warming his cheeks. Rufus shook his head sympathetically.
"Aww, Dave, quit picking at him. It's the man's wedding day, and who could blame him for being a mite impatient? It's not everyday a fella finds himself a good woman like Lucy to marry," he said, offering Wyatt an encouraging smile. "Besides, as I recall, you ain't never took the vows yourself." The sheriff shrugged carelessly, seemingly unfazed by the scolding, before fixing his gaze squarely on Rufus.
"And just what would you know about wedding days or even finding a good woman, blacksmith?" Dave retorted mildly. "You never had yourself a wife either that I heard tell of. Hell, you ain't even courting anybody right now...unless...unless maybe you secretly got your eye on Miss Emma's new cook at the saloon, the woman she hired from back east who got to town a couple weeks ago. Rumor is she's not only a fairly decent cook, but mighty fetching and without a husband, too,"
Fully distracted now from tempting thoughts of the night to come, Wyatt hastily shoved the watch back in his pocket without even looking at it. He'd been so busy with wedding plans and foaling season at the ranch, he hadn't heard the news about Emma hiring someone, and a woman to boot. (And apparently, an attractive, single woman at that.) Staring at his friend, Wyatt was fascinated by the unexpected blush he noted beneath Rufus' whiskers. One of James Sherwin's favorite sayings was, "Still waters run deep," and it certainly appeared to be true in this case.
"Emma has a new cook for the saloon? An unmarried, nice looking woman from back east, huh?" Wyatt asked curiously. As a man lucky enough to have gotten a second chance to love (and be loved despite his many flaws), he was pleased by the possibility of a good, decent man like Rufus also finding someone to share his life with. "Now don't that sound interesting. So does the fetching mystery female have a name?" he teased. Wyatt smirked when his friend blushed in earnest, rubbing the back of his neck and looking like he wanted to be anywhere else in Texas at the moment. Wyatt didn't mind at all that someone else was in the hot seat for a change (and it definitely helped the time pass faster).
"I dunno...Leah or Mia or something like that," Rufus mumbled, unable to meet their eyes. "Listen, I only saw her a couple times-okay, maybe three–at the saloon last week when she came out of the back to bring me a sandwich for lunch." Wyatt and Dave exchanged amused glances at their friend's stiff shoulders and the noticeable discomfort in his voice.
"Well, Emma told me her name was Jiya," Dave added helpfully when it became clear by the stubborn set of his jaw that the blacksmith was done talking about the subject. "Miss Jiya Marri from Philadelphia. According to Emma, the lady doesn't have any close family and wanted to get away from the big city, do some traveling out west. Guess that's how she ended working at the saloon." Wyatt rolled his eyes at the amazing wealth of information his friend had gathered about the newcomer in a relatively short amount of time, having learned early on after Dave arrived in Brady that the nosy sheriff naturally felt keeping up to date on the town gossip was all part of his official duties.
Before the men could bedevil Rufus any further, however, the side door opened abruptly to reveal a beaming Pastor Spencer. "Good afternoon, gentleman," he greeted them cheerfully. "I was just informed the buggy with Miss Preston and your grandparents has pulled up out front, Wyatt. We should probably go inside now," he advised the men.
Grateful the older man hadn't accidentally overheard them talking out of turn about the saloon's new cook, Wyatt nodded, his heart starting to race once more. It was time. Absently patting his vest pocket, he felt the faint outline of the delicate ring that belonged to Lucy's mother, and took a deep, fortifying breath before obediently following the pastor. Thank you, Lord. The moment he'd been eagerly waiting for was here at last...
A/N #2: Yes! The bride has arrived and it's finally time for the ceremony! (And to think it only took THREE years to get here, lol.) I hope this longer-than-usual chapter has helped build your anticipation for Wyatt and Lucy's ceremony...and of course, their wedding night (which I thought deserved its own chapter). As always, my appreciation to those readers still interested in going on this journey with me because I have truly enjoyed writing the 1881 versions of this wonderful couple. Your favorites, follows and kind reviews never fail to lift my spirits during those times I struggle with the process. Thank you so much :))