Chapter Eight
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“ Oh , Damien, I ’ m so sorry!” CeeCee said for who knew how many times. She didn ’ t know what else to do but to keep saying she was sorry. He looked devastated. All of his commissioned pieces were ruined beyond repair. At least that was what he had said. She wondered if with a little sanding and elbow grease it might could be brought back to life? She had no idea what it would take to start over, but she could tell Damien was heartbroken. “ Did your records survive?”
He gawked at her and shrugged.
“ I was thinking if you have records you can contact your customers and let them know what has happened?”
“ Of course.” Damien uttered. “ I have a fire-proof vault where I keep all my records.”
“ Well, that ’ s good. I can help you write to them, to-to let them know.”
He hung his head.
“ What else can I do?” CeeCee asked.
“ I don ’ t know.” Damien walked slowly through the ruins as if one more inspection might turn up a salvageable piece. “ I mean, I was really counting on the pieces to replenish our savings.” He looked into CeeCee ’ s eyes. “ I spent all my savings… to get you here.”
“ Oh.” She realized the reason for his despair. Sending her train fare and food allowance had cost him everything. And now the fire…
“ I mean, unless you ’ ve got some money left, we might could buy some timber to replace a piece or two. I have no way to start over on these commissioned pieces…” his voice trailed off as did his eyes. He looked lost.
CeeCee straightened to her full height. She was tall for a girl, five foot eight inches. “ Well, how much are you talking about?”
His head popped up and he looked deeply into her face. “ Look, you ’ re my wife, and have a right to know the truth… about our finances.” He strode to the front of the shop that faced Stagecoach Road, where he had a sectioned off office. In the little room was a desk, a filing cabinet, a bookshelf, and the fire-proof vault, like what one would see in a small bank. Sizzling embers of smoke rose from the wooden desk, and the filing cabinet looked like a charred stump. He opened the vault and took out a records journal. Flipping through a few pages, he carried the journal to where she stood and pointed at an invoice from the Silverpines Lumber Company. “ This was my last purchase.”
She glanced at the numbers.
“ And that ’ s what it would take for you to start over, to finished these commissioned items?”
He nodded slowly, and then sighed heavily.
“ And if you had those funds, you could meet your customer ’ s demands? ” she asked.
His head nodded again, but this time he closed his eyes. “ But my funds were tied up in this inventory until I sold these pieces, I didn ’ t have anything extra.” His sad eyes opened and focused on hers. “ I ’ m sorry, CeeCee. I never wanted you to have to suffer for want. Maybe we could sell some of the items in our home, just ’ til we can start over.”
CeeCee stepped up closer to him, shaking her head. “ Actually, I do.”
His head jerked, his eyes squinted to focus on hers. “ You do… what?”
“ I have that much money. We used to have more, of course, but when the war ended our confederate money was determined to be worthless.” She paused. “ Please don ’ t think poorly of me or my family, but in 1863 my papa accepted thirty-three cents to a dollar for our savings. You see, several of our southern boys had joined the union soldiers and they warned Papa that if the south lost the war, our money would be worthless. But even if the south won, Union money would still be good money, so either way, we wouldn ’ t lose everything… the value of our investment. So Papa… traded his confederate bills and hid the Union money in the lining of a trunk… my trunk. It ’ s not what it once was, of course, but it ’ s that much.” She tilted her head toward the journal. “ What you showed me on your invoice.”
“ And…” Damien spoke slowly. “ You ’ d be willing to help me start over?”
CeeCee stared at him for a long silent moment. “ I don ’ t know you well, Damien, but we are married and as your wife, for richer, for poorer, in sickness, and in health. Yes, I will help you.”
Damien ’ s eyes filled with tears. He grabbed her by the shoulders and pulled her into his arms. “ Oh, CeeCee, thank you!” He kissed her cheek, then her forehead, then her other cheek. His lips swept toward her mouth, and he kissed her quite solid on the lips. “ I ’ ll replace your savings, I promise. It ’ s just a loan.”
“ No, my money is your money. It ’ s ours.”
“ Well, yes, but you didn ’ t have to. I appreciate you so much!” he said and kissed her again.
A sensation like the burning embers all around them seared CeeCee ’ s midsection when he kissed her. Her knees turned to gelatin. She rather liked how it felt to be kissed by him. She kissed him back and his solid, powerful kiss softened, became more passionate. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her against him. She clung to him, pressing her arms into his back and holding him close to her. Her heart pounded out of control until she could not draw enough air. She gasped, heaving for breath, and stepped back from him. “ I-I think we should go home. I believe we have unfinished business to tend to there.”
He smiled. “ Are you sure?”
“ Well, I believe I am. I—” She pushed a strand of hair back into her drawn-back hair and cleared her throat. Her eyes swept over the damaged goods. “ We need to contact the lumber company and get your order in to replace these pieces.”
“ Yes, but if you ’ re saying what I think you are saying, it could wait.” He grinned mischievously.
She giggled. “ Well, I, let ’ s go home and discuss it.”
“ All right.” He put his arm around her shoulder and escorted her to his wagon. Helping her onto the bench, he sat beside her and flicked the reins.
“ Where you going?” Someone shouted. Damien ignored them. CeeCee felt the heat of embarrassment flush her cheeks. Was it right for them to leave everyone in such a state to go home because they were suddenly feeling amorous. Who knew such tragedy would bring them together as man and wife so quickly? Was this what Mademoiselle L ’ Rusoe meant when she said CeeCee was destined for him?
She had always felt guilty for her papa ’ s premature trade-out of their funds before the war was over. But had that been the very thing that locked her into her destiny with Damien? The forward thinking was not a betrayal to her southern state, but a means to save her future husband ’ s business after this unexpected fire. What a strange and wonderful coincidence, or was it? Had God known all along? Was this just the proof she needed to know for sure this marriage was meant to be?
Arm in arm they entered their house and walked together to the fox hunt themed bedroom. This was her bedroom now also. And they would soon be truly man and wife, consummated by love and forever together until death do they part.
After several hours of sharing love and intimacy, CeeCee and Damien shared one more reprise to seal this marriage the way God intended and forever begin a life full of love, hope, and beautiful creations that they would make together. Some would be fruit of the timber and others would be fruit of their loin. But definitely happiness from this day forward.
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NOT QUITE THE END