A second chapter in less than a week! You lucky people :)
March 24th 1871
Colorado Springs
"Do you have everything ready for the wedding?" Michaela asked Rebecca as they ate lunch at Grace's.
"Almost," Rebecca replied, "most of the arrangements are made. I just can't wait for the day itself." It was an understatement in itself. With each passing day she grew more and more excited about the prospect of being Preston's wife and finally being able to indulge in the passion which had ignited on their last picnic. When she closed her eyes at night she could still feel the sensation of his hand on her breast and it quite often drove her wild. It would be fair to say that her fears of falling pregnant were wedged firmly at the back of her mind.
"June 10th, you don't have long to wait."
"No, although it feels like forever," Rebecca laughed.
"It'll come before you know it," Michaela said, "And you're still of the opinion that Denver is the best place to get married?"
Rebecca nodded, "I want to do it away from here and away from Boston. I want it to be about Preston and me, not about family feuds."
"What about your family?" Michaela asked.
"There's not really anyone that I would want there. I sent my aunt a telegram out of courtesy but, happily, she replied and said she was due to sail for England the day before. Preston's brother James and his wife will be attending. They appear to be the only members of Preston's family who seem remotely pleased about our marriage."
"I'm sure the approval of the extended Lodge family is the furthest thing from your mind."
"Indeed it is," Rebecca smiled. "Preston's been coming up with all these grand ideas for our house."
"Really?"
"It's as if he feels the need to build the biggest house possible. Almost as though he's trying to create a piece of Boston here and it doesn't work like that. I would be happy living in the bank." Her attention was suddenly diverted at the sound of an approaching horse and, looking up, saw Matthew ride past with Emma on the saddle behind him. They pulled up a few feet away and he slid down before helping her down onto the ground.
"I'm worried about Matthew," Michaela sighed as she watched her eldest son bid goodbye to Emma with a brief kiss on the cheek.
"Matthew? Why?" Rebecca looked back towards the couple, "Oh, I see."
"It's not that I don't like her," Michaela said hurriedly, "and it's not that I don't understand why she does what she does but…"
"You're worried about him getting hurt?"
Michaela nodded, "And about town gossip. I know I've never really been one to listen to it, but it's different when it's your child."
"Have you spoken to him about it?" Rebecca asked. Michaela shook her head. "Perhaps you should. You might find he has reservations about it himself."
Michaela looked at her sideways, "Perhaps you could."
"Me?" Rebecca squeaked. "But…"
"He respects you, he listens to you…"
"Yes, but…I don't have…I mean, I'm not qualified to comment…"
"Even if you could find out how serious his intentions are. It might put my mind at rest," Michaela insisted, "What with the baby almost due and everything else…I don't have the strength for an argument with him." She put her hand on Rebecca's arm. "Please. I'd be so grateful."
The last thing she wanted to do was meddle in other's relationships, especially when her own was all so new to her, but she knew she couldn't refuse her friend. "Ok," she agreed, "I'll talk to him."
XXXX
"What did you need me to come up here with you for?" Matthew asked later that afternoon as Rebecca drew her wagon to a halt outside the farm.
She dropped the reins and sighed heavily, "Look at the place. Completely falling apart." It still hurt her to see the ever increasingly dilapidation and wounded her deep inside when she thought back over her failure to make it work.
"Can't Preston do anything?"
"He doesn't own the building anymore. The National Trust Bank does and his father hates the idea of me so much that I can't see him agreeing in any way to sell it back to me."
"I thought that Helen married someone else?"
"She did and she's expecting a child apparently, but I think Mr Lodge Senior is still smarting about what Preston did and blames me for it." She made a face. "I don't suppose there's much I can do about it."
Matthew jumped down from the wagon and then helped her down in turn, "So, what are we doing up here?"
"Well I…I thought we could talk…"
"Talk?" She nodded. "What about?"
"Well, we haven't really spent much time together over the last few months and I miss talking with you," she explained.
"Well you've been so wrapped up in Preston," Matthew said, his tone slightly pointed.
"I'm sorry," she said, "I have been neglecting my friends, I know that. But you've been keeping yourself pretty busy too with Emma."
Realisation suddenly dawned on Matthew's face, "Doctor Mike asked you to talk to me, didn't she?"
"No…" Rebecca replied, somewhat unconvincingly.
"I can't believe this!" He exclaimed. "This is my life! I'm trying to move on after Ingrid! I thought that was what everyone wanted! Why can't everyone just realise leave me alone!"
"Matthew, your family are only concerned about you! Michaela only wants you to be happy."
"I haven't even done anything!" he retorted, "Emma and me are…well…"
"Do you love her?"
He blushed, "That ain't your business."
"You're right," she replied, "it isn't. I'm sorry I…"
"I ain't been with a whore."
Rebecca was taken aback by his language, "Matthew, I never said…"
"Jake did," he interrupted her. "He said that every man's been with a whore at some time. Maybe you ought to ask Preston about that."
"Matthew!"
"I'll make my own way back to town if you don't mind," he turned on his heel and stalked back down the hill, leaving Rebecca alone to contemplate what a mess she had made of that.
XXXX
"You seem a little distracted this evening."
Preston's voice broke into Rebecca's thoughts, making her start, "What? Sorry," she said, "I was miles away."
They had eaten dinner at Grace's and were now taking an evening stroll down to the meadow, knowing it was the only opportunity they would have to be alone together. Despite the fact that she was a twenty five year old, responsible woman, Mrs Brimble seemed to disapprove about her being out of the boarding house at night. Rebecca liked to think that the older woman was only concerned with her wellbeing.
"What are you thinking about?" Preston asked, as she entwined her arm with his. "The wedding?"
"No," she replied honestly. "It's…"
"Is it Loren? Is he making you work too hard at the store?"
"No," she said, "Loren couldn't be sweeter to me…"
"Well, you won't have to put up with it for much longer. Once we're married you'll be giving up that job." he asserted.
"And doing what?" she asked.
"Well, once my…our…resort is up and running there will, of course, be a role for my wife as hostess."
Rebecca bit her tongue, desperate to avoid an argument on that topic. It wasn't something on which they were likely to agree. Preston seemed to be under the impression that she was going to become an appendage to his arm, someone to meet and greet guests at his new hotel and, basically, float around like some ethereal being. Having worked on the farm, it sounded like nothing short of hell. It was a discussion she knew they were going to have to have at some point, but there was something far more pressing in her mind. "Preston…" she began slowly.
"Yes?"
"Have you…I mean…did you ever…what I mean is…"
He smiled affectionately at her, "What?"
"I was just wondering…"
"Yes?" he prompted her.
"Have you ever…you know…"
"No, I don't until you ask me."
"Have you ever been with a prostitute?" The words came out in a rush.
Preston stopped dead in his tracks, his face drained of colour and Rebecca immediately wished she could take the question back. "What?!"
"I'm sorry," she said quickly, "I shouldn't have asked."
"Well why on earth did you?!" he blustered.
"I…" she fought for a decent answer, "I just…well, Jake was apparently giving Matthew a hard time about his relationship with Emma and he said…well he said that every man had been with a whore," she balked slightly at the word.
"Well, I can assure you that Jake Slicker does not speak for every man in this town!" Preston declared.
"So…you haven't?" she asked.
"No I haven't!" he exclaimed.
She linked her arm back with his again and they restarted their walk. Taking her courage in her hands, she dared to ask the obvious next question, "Have you ever been with any woman?"
This time, she saw Preston's face flush in the fading light and he refused to meet her gaze, "Rebecca, I'm not entirely sure this is a conversation we should be having!"
"Why not?"
"Because it's…well it's…"
"We're supposed to be getting married, Preston. Isn't it something we should know about each other?"
"Well I…" he stopped short and turned to peer at her, "Are you saying that you…?"
"That I…what?"
"Have you…?" he left the question hanging.
"No!" she exclaimed, feeling her own face grow red. "No I haven't."
"Good," he said, obvious relief flooding his face.
"But if I had?" she asked, curious as to his response.
"If you had…what?"
"Been with a man!"
He looked as though he wasn't sure how to respond, "Well you haven't, so it's not an issue."
"But it would be an issue if I had?"
"Well…" he coughed, "a man likes to think that…when it comes to his wife…"
"Yes?" she prompted.
"Well, that he is the first customer, so to speak."
"The first customer?"
"The first customer to purchase the goods," he looked at her meaningfully.
"I see," she said slowly, "but it's not important for a wife to be the first customer to…purchase the goods?"
Preston opened his mouth, but no immediate sound came out. "Rebecca, I think this conversation has gone far enough now, don't you?" He began walking away from her.
"I suppose," she said, following him, "but you didn't answer my question."
"What question?"
"Preston!"
He turned back and looked at her, "There may have been…on one occasion…"
Rebecca's mouth dropped open, "When?"
"A long time ago!" he insisted, stepping closer to her. "And it was nothing to speak of. Nothing at all. It won't be anything like…when you and I are finally together."
"Well, who was she?" Rebecca demanded.
"It was so long ago," he waved her away, "I can't even remember."
"You can't remember?"
"Which clearly shows how meaningless the whole encounter was!" He looked at her shocked expression. "Rebecca, darling, it's practically part of a young man's development. It's actively encouraged for men to...to sow their wild oats. Women, on the other hand…"
"And what does it say about the women that you young men 'develop' with?" she asked. "If they're not prostitutes, what are they?"
"Young women of nondescript birth for whom the encounter will only be one of many in their lives. Women who will spend their lives…having a good time."
"In other words, prostitutes."
"No…" he sighed, "not prostitutes. Can't we leave this topic now? It's giving me heartburn." He regarded her still stunned expression. "My darling…it is expected that men have…experience…in that area. I'm told that most wives find it more…pleasurable…when their husband is a man who can take charge as opposed to one as confused and fumbling as they themselves are."
They started walking again and Rebecca couldn't help grinning, despite the recent revelation, "So, am I to understand that you intend to…what was your turn of phrase…take charge of me on our wedding night?"
He stopped and drew her into his arms, "If I was any less of a gentlemen, I would take charge of you tonight," he murmured.
"You weren't exactly very 'gentlemanly' on Valentine's Day," she replied quietly in return, "A fact I'm sure Brian could testify to."
Preston's expression suddenly grew concerned, "Have you spoken with Michaela?"
"About what?"
"Well…about certain…precautions that may be necessary. That will be necessary once we're married."
Reality suddenly came back to her, "No," she said, "not yet."
"You must," he urged, "before we leave for Denver."
"I've plenty of time."
He paused, "I just want to make sure that you're fully prepared."
"I'm glad you see the responsibility as being mine," she quipped.
He smiled and kissed the top of her head, "I was hoping to speak with you about the groundbreaking ceremony."
Rebecca didn't miss the sudden change of subject, but decided not to comment, "Oh yes?"
"I've been thinking about May 17th."
"Don't you think you should wait a little until you have the bank under control?"
"I have the bank under control," he said, "I've been banking for years, Rebecca. But my investors in the resort are keen to see how their investment is being used and I want to make sure that work begins as soon as possible."
"But you don't need to have a groundbreaking ceremony, do you?"
"Yes I do!" he insisted.
"I'm only concerned that…well that you're going to be taking on too much. The bank, the house, the resort…"
"Don't worry about me," he said, "I'm not the one with the weak heart in this relationship."
Rebecca wasn't sure whether to thank him or hit him.
"Come on," he said, "I should get you back to the boarding house before Mrs Brimble sends out our erstwhile Sheriff to round you up."
"Then you'd best kiss me properly before we get back into town," she said with a knowing smile, pushing all other thoughts from her mind.
He needed no further encouragement. Pulling her close to him again, he bent and kissed her passionately and deeply. Rebecca responded, winding her arms around his neck and pulling him close to her, delighting at the feel of his body pressed tightly against her own. His hands slid down her back to rest at the top of her waist and she felt delicious shivers course through her.
"I love you," she whispered as he pulled back from her and peppered her face with light kisses before moving to her neck and gently nipping the skin there.
"Don't mind me."
They sprang apart again as Matthew stalked past. He didn't stop to speak or even to raise a wry eyebrow. Instead, he ploughed on, determination in every stride, his head down, his expression hidden under his hat.
"What is it with every member of the Quinn family interrupting us?!" Preston exclaimed.
Rebecca laughed and linked her arm through his again, "We probably should be getting back, before I lose my honour right here."