12. A Proposal
CHAPTER 12
A PROPOSAL
E lla Mae stared at John, her mouth dropping open when she realized he had removed the bandana from his face before he put voice to his proposal.
“Did my father…?” She paused, her eyes widening in wonder. “Oh, John,” she breathed, her gaze darting about in search of her parents. She found them standing in a corner, watching her as if they, too, were waiting for her response. “Are you quite sure?”
John gave a start. “Ella Mae Montgomery, I haven’t been so sure about anything in my entire life,” he replied. “I would have asked before I left, but?—”
“Yes. Yes, I will marry you,” she said, grinning in delight. “I cannot believe this is happening on the night of my come-out.”
He grinned, the dimple appearing at the base of his cheek. “Until Mr. Whitcomb paid me a visit to inform me of my… inheritance, I didn’t think I could ask you,” he explained. “At least, not yet. But as the new owner of Galena Stable, I think I can afford to keep you in a manner to which you’ve?—”
“I don’t require the same accommodations as my mother,” she interrupted. “Not that my father had to be the one to provide them.”
John furrowed his brows. “I plan to spoil you, Ella Mae.”
She grinned, stood on tiptoes, and gave him a quick peck on his cheek. “I might allow it,” she said, grinning in delight. “Oh, if only we could wed tonight,” she breathed. “We have witnesses, and my parents are here,” she added, gazing up at him as tears collected in the corners of her eyes. “We’re both dressed in such elegant finery.”
John stared down at her, finally blinking twice before he glanced about the ballroom. “There must be a minister around here somewhere,” he murmured. “You are certainly dressed for a wedding.” He held out one of his hands. “I have a ring I can give you.” He pulled it from his pinkie.
Ella Mae giggled before her eyes widened at seeing the Presbyterian minister approaching them from near to where her parents were standing. “Hello, Reverend Jenkins,” she said.
“This is rather… unusual , but I suppose we can see to the formalities in a day or two,” the minister said as he pulled a small book from his pocket. He nodded to where her parents stood. “Your father has already given permission for you to wed, I take it?” he asked.
“He has,” John stated.
Ella Mae inhaled softly. “He has?”
“I have,” Robert affirmed. He and her mother had joined them to stand before the minister.
Removing her lace mask, Ella Mae handed it to her mother while John removed the one from his good eye. The two turned to face the minister. Behind him, those left in the ballroom, wearing costumes and watching in wonder, paid witness to their wedding.
When Reverend Jenkins’ asked if anyone objected to the union, there was silence. Not even a meow met his query, so the man proceeded with reciting the marriage rites in a simple ceremony.
With a murmured “With this ring I wed thee” and a pair of “I will”s, the minister’s declaration that they were man and wife had most in the ballroom applauding.
Meows could be heard from somewhere outside the ballroom, which had most laughing but her mother grimacing in dismay.
“Champagne for all,” Robert Montgomery called out. The room erupted in shouts of joy.
For the next hour, the orchestra continued to play, and except for the next dance, which Ella Mae spent with her father, John claimed all the rest of the dances until the clock struck midnight.
Emma approached Ella Mae when it was apparent the last dance of the evening was about to begin. Tears pricked the corners of her eyes. “There’s nothing else I can tell you that I haven’t already said,” she whispered. “Trust him. Your father certainly does,” she added before she pulled her daughter into an embrace. “I’ll pay a call on you in a day or two, Mrs. O’Connor.”
Ella Mae gasped softly. “Mother,” she breathed. Before she could say more, Emma and Robert were headed for the exit.
A moment later, a distant howling had the rest of the ball goers rushing for the exit. John and Ella Mae grinned and watched until everyone else had departed before they made their way down the stairs and to the front desk of the hotel.
“You room is ready, Mr. O’Connor,” the clerk stated, handing him a key. “Your luggage has already been delivered.”
Ella Mae glanced up at him in surprise. “Luggage?” she repeated, sure her new husband was blushing.
“I might have made some arrangements in advance,” he hedged, offering his arm. “With your father, and the reverend, and the hotel,” he added.
Inhaling softly, Ella Mae stared at him. “What if I hadn’t agreed to wed you this evening?”
He chuckled softly and lifted a shoulder. “I would have courted you until you did agree,” he stated.
Grinning, she placed a hand on his arm. “Well, then, lead the way, Mr. O’Connor.”
His humor still apparent, John escorted her up the stairs.
“Where will we live?” she asked, once they had reached the first floor landing.
He dipped his head. “I have rooms above the stable,” he replied. “But I’ll be in search of a house for us as soon as I can.”
“Our own house. So soon?”
He angled his head to one side. “I promised I would spoil you,” he reminded her. “And I intend to start this evening.”
Ella Mae suppressed a giggle. “Mr. O’Connor?—”
“Call me John.” He paused before one of the doors and inserted the key into the lock. A snick sounded before the door opened to reveal a room lined in flowered wallpaper and furnished with a bed, an upholstered chair , an escritoire, and a bench.
“Call me Ella Mae,” she countered. She inhaled softly. “You’re quite a conniving young man, aren’t you?” she added, her gaze sweeping the room.
“My mother used to say that to my father.” He arched a dark brow. “When you say it, it doesn’t make me sound so bad, though.”
Her eyes rounded. “Whatever do you mean?”
“Your hint of an accent. The way you say your words, all proper like, but not snooty. You could call me a bastard and I wouldn’t mind.”
She inhaled softly. “I would never call you that, John.”
“You might after what I’m about to do to you.” His warning was barely audible.
Ella Mae’s eyes rounded when he bent down and touched his lips to hers. She didn’t back away, though—not that she could since she was pressed against the door—and instead she parted her lips in invitation.
Before she knew it, his lips captured hers. She gripped the fabric of his sleeves with both hands in an effort to stay upright.
She tasted the punch and the champagne he had drunk. Her knees felt as if they had turned to jelly, and not just from the champagne she had imbibed.
When he pulled away, she let out a mewl of protest. He grinned. “I think one of us might be feeling a bit drunk,” he whispered.
“Oh,” she replied, disappointment evident in her response. “Does that mean you wouldn’t have kissed me if you were sober?”
“ I’m not the one who’s feeling the champagne,” he countered, his brow once again arching as a grin appeared.
“It was excellent champagne,” she whispered, a moment before she stood on tiptoes and kissed him. Her hands reached up to his shoulders as she pressed against him. She moaned when his tongue invaded her mouth and slid across her teeth.
She had never been kissed before, but she wanted it to go on and on. Wanted him to hold her closer, and then was sure he could read her mind, for his hand had moved to the small of her back and he was pulling her hard against him.
When he relaxed his hold on her, she stared up at him, her eyes finally focusing on his one good eye. “I’ve actually never kissed a man before.”
John regarded his new wife with a look of relief. “Well I should hope not.”
Grinning, Ella Mae reached up and gave him a quick kiss on the lips. “I think I shall enjoy being married to you.”
“ T hen I am even more blessed than I thought I was yesterday morning,” John replied, referring to the way he had felt the moment he learned he had inherited the stable.
Ella Mae gave him a brilliant smile. “I am so pleased you think so.”
He angled his head to one side. Holding her like this—her shoulders wrapped in his arms and their bodies pressed close—did have him feeling rather blessed.
Blessed and regretful, for what sort of life might they have had if he had never gone off to war?
John gave his head a shake. He hadn’t been looking for someone back then. Hadn’t been of a mind to share a hardscrabble life in a burgeoning town. The responsibility of seeing to it his father had meals and made it to work every morning was quite enough in his teens. Then, given the timing of his father’s death, it only made sense to leave Galena with the band of volunteers Colonel Grant had hastily assembled. He never imagined that in less than a year’s time, he would survive military training, travel over five-hundred miles, and fight in several bloody battles only to lose an eye and be discharged.
So why had Robert Montgomery decided he was the one who should marry his daughter?
Perhaps he had known of Mr. Perkins’ plan to bequeath the stable to him. Perhaps Ella Mae had mentioned she knew him from school.
John knew it wasn’t out of pity, but perhaps the man had seen something of himself in him. Saw an opportunity to be a matchmaker.
He glanced down to discover a cat staring up at him. He had to suppress the urge to chuckle.
“What do you find so amusing?” Ella Mae asked, pulling him from his reverie.
“I blame it all on the cats,” he stated.
“ Credit them, don’t you mean?” she countered, finding both Sergeant and Colonel were watching them with great interest. Where they had come from, she had no idea.
“Now you’ve gone and done it,” he said as he lowered his forehead to hers.
“What have I done?”
“Whatever it is they want you to do.”
“Which is... what?”
John glanced back at Colonel and arched a brow. “Well?”
“ Meow .” Colonel replied, as if he was providing some sort of answer.
Sergeant joined Colonel, the two posed in identical sitting positions and looking every bit the twins they were. They gazed up at John and Ella Mae for a moment before they settled onto their sides.
“See?” John said, turning to discover Ella Mae staring at him rather than at the cats. Beneath his hold, something shifted in her.
“Does that mean they will allow us to make love this evening?” Ella Mae asked, her voice quiet.
John’s brows drew together, his good humor gone in an instant. “Mrs. O’Connor?—”
“Ella Mae. You can call me Ella Mae.” She seemed to give her comment a second thought. “Although I do like being called Mrs. O’Connor.”
“Ella Mae, I have no intention of allowing you out of my sight for at least the next ten hours. They won’t, either.”
She blinked up at him. “That long?”
“We have the room until noon. That is, if we don’t have to be somewhere else.”
“I don’t,” she claimed.
He paused. “Would you like to go to bed?” he asked, his voice sounding breathy.
Her gaze darted toward the bed. “Will you be in it?”
It was John’s turn to blink. “If you’ll allow it.”
“Well, shouldn’t I insist on it?” She glanced over at the cats, and this time Colonel responded with a rather loud, “ Meow .”
John scoffed softly. “Just how much champagne did you drink?”
“I didn’t even finish my third glass. I feared I might be unable to walk if I drank any more than that.”
He chuckled as he lifted the halo from her coiffure. “Do you know what happens on a wedding night?”
She nodded. “Indeed. In fact, I’ve been spending the past few afternoons imagining what it would be like to make love to you.”
Astonished at hearing her words, John chuckled. “Oh, well this should go well,” he said with relief. “You’ll show me how then?”
Not sure if he was teasing her nor not, Emma glanced up to discover his eye had darkened until it was nearly black.
“Something tells me I won’t have to,” she whispered.
“Something tells me I won’t be opening the stable until the afternoon,” he whispered, before leading her to the bed.
Glancing at the two cats who watched from the other side of the room, Emma gave them a wink as John undid the buttons at her back.