Well, maybe I can tolerate this after all.
“You won’t be sorry, I promise.” Davis ran his palms up and down her arms, resting his wrists on her shoulders. “I would never raise a hand to you, and although I don’t have much, everything I have will be yours.”
“Will you take me back to Indiana?” Head down, she mumbled to her lap.
“Sorry, darlin’, I’m heading to Oregon to settle. As my wife, you’ll go with me and stay there.”
Emma slumped. There it was. The reason she didn’t want another marriage. What she wanted never mattered, it was always the man’s wishes that counted. She still wouldn’t give up on her desire to return to Indiana. Back to the love and security of her childhood, to a comfortable life with people she’d known all her life. But that would remain her secret for now.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Summer now in full force, the heat started almost as soon as the sun came up. Cicadas chanted their spirited singing, and small animals and insects scurried for shelter from the heat. Circled by a crowd, Emma and Davis stood in front of Jeb Preston. Emma wore her best dress of green calico with ruffles around the neckline and sleeves. Small yellow flowers decorated her braided hair. She held a small colorful bouquet of wildflowers Abigail had made for her.
Davis was fresh from a river bath; wet hair slicked back, clean black pants, and a white shirt with a string tie. He looked very handsome, Emma noted. Some of the younger single women who were traveling with their families studied him with romantic wistfulness.
It was evening of the day after the river crossing. All the wagons had made it across, with the only mishap being Emma’s. Everyone had used the free day for bathing and laundry. Jeb had held a short Sunday service, and after the wedding ceremony, a party would follow.
Davis took Emma’s hand in his and repeated the vows Jeb spoke. Sarah had loaned the couple one of her rings, since she thought Emma’s idea of using the same ring she had received from Peter was not a wise decision.
Then it was Emma’s turn to repeat her vows, which she did in a soft voice. Her thoughts ran rampant as she spoke. So different from her first wedding. Her mother and father had beamed proudly when she’d become Peter’s wife. Now she was marrying a man her parents had never even met, out in the middle of nowhere, among a group of people she’d only known a short time.
She gazed at the man she was pledging herself to. Peter had been young, brash, and full of life and energy. Davis was a more sober man, having no doubt suffered through things that made him the man he was. She didn’t question his character, having seen him every day for weeks now. He was smart, hard-working, and at the same time, caring and helpful.
Would they grow to love each other? Did she want that to happen? Dragged from her musings at Jeb’s prompt, Davis reached over, took Emma’s face in his two hands and kissed her gently but firmly on the lips. Shock ran through her, creating little shivers to race across her spine, settling in her stomach. When she pulled back and met Davis’s gaze, once again the humor and other unidentifiable something sparkled in his eyes. She smiled briefly and then turned.
They linked hands and joined the rest of the crowd as they all headed to where the women had set up tables and chairs scrounged from the wagons. Each wagon had contributed food for the celebration. The men had cleared an area and a few brought out fiddles and harmonicas. Soon couples began dancing, with the rest of the group clapping in time to the music.
Apparently, having a break from the dull, hard routine of travel did much to refresh the travelers. Being clean, having clean clothing, and a reason to celebrate bolstered their spirits. Davis led Emma in a waltz and she was pleasantly surprised to find him an adequate dancer. He pulled her close and chuckled when she stiffened her elbows to put more space between them.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The sky grew dark and campfires sprang up as the party continued. Standing with a group of women, Emma spotted Davis in a circle of men who apparently were having some fun at his expense. The joking and nudging led her to believe they were discussing what was to come when the party wound down. Davis seemed to take it all in stride, but when he glanced over, she found her heartbeat speeding up. Glory be, what had she done?
In her focus on getting married again so she would have help for the rest of the trip, she had shoved the wedding night and all it meant to the back of her mind. Now it immediately presented itself to her full force. What was she thinking marrying a man she hardly knew? Would he insist on his marital rights tonight? Would he give her time to adjust to him?
She didn’t have a whole lot of time to dwell on it as Davis walked slowly over to her, his lips tilted in a half smile. He took both of her hands in his and gently kissed her on the lips. The distinct odor of whiskey wafted from his mouth. Perhaps she should have also dipped a cup into the men’s punch bowl to calm her nerves.
“Let’s go back to the wagon.” He whispered against her lips.
“Um, already?” Emma gasped. Davis chuckled and put his arm around her shoulders, guiding her away from the group.
Oh, dear, it didn’t seem as though Davis had any intention of allowing any getting to know you time before he took her to bed. She broke into a sweat and swallowed several times, trying to fill her lungs with air.
The walk back to the wagon used up no time at all. Her heart thudded so hard, no doubt Davis could hear it. Apparently noticing her distress, Davis left her in front of the wagon. “I’ll have a smoke out here, to give you privacy in the wagon before I come in.”
Nodding numbly, Emma crawled into the wagon. Good grief, now what? Would it be acceptable to lie down fully dressed on the pallet? What if she only took off her shoes? Davis had cleared out a few things and re-packed so the bed would fit. It was a warm night, but she imagined newlyweds sleeping under the wagon would not be appropriate. Newlyweds. There was a scary word.
Her first time with Peter had been awkward. He didn’t seem to know what to do any more than she did. He’d left his pants on, and she’d worn a new nightgown, but the garment buttoned up the front all the way to her neck. Neither one completely removed their clothes, Peter just pushing her nightgown up to her waist, kneading her breasts through her nightgown.
They’d fumbled around in the dark, Emma filled with relief when it was all over. The pain hadn’t been as bad as her mother had cautioned, but for the life of her she couldn’t figure out why people would continue to do that once they had a couple of children. Over their short time together, their lovemaking grew more familiar, but never what she would consider enjoyable.
Reluctantly, Emma took off her dress and underclothes and put the same nightgown on. Hands shaking, she took the pins out of her hair and brushed the lengthy locks. She could hear Davis outside the wagon moving about. She lay down on the pallet and took a deep breath. Within minutes her new husband entered through the canvas flap.
The space seemed so small with him in here with her. Her heart sped up again, her breathing rapid. With the bright moonlight, she could see his face as he sat alongside her. Tenderness seemed to radiate from him. He moved his hand slowly over her hair.
“You have beautiful hair, Emma,” he whispered. “I like it down. It’s like curly brown silk.” He picked up strands of hair and let it fall between his fingers. He then ran the back of his hand over her face, ending at her chin. He tilted her head up and bent slowly over her.
His kiss started out softly, but soon grew deeper, as he put his arms around her and pulled her up. She could feel the strength of his muscular chest against the softness of her full breasts. He moved his chest back and forth and her nipples pebbled. With a groan, he put one hand on her throat to tilt her head, and moved his tongue against her lips, seeking entrance. Emma opened her mouth and gave a small squeak as Davis invaded her mouth, touching soft, sensitive parts with his tongue.