Late Thursday afternoon, Max stood on the platform outside the railway station and waved as Reba left to join Pawnee Bill’s show. Then he walked back to the hotel, where Aidan looked up with a frown.
“You cannot be here,” the hotel manager announced.
“I need a room for tonight—for Emmie and me.”
“I’ll make those arrangements. Now you really must leave, Max.” He glanced at the large clock in the lobby. “It’s nearly time. You should already be at the church.”
Max was used to giving orders rather than following them, but Aidan seemed quite upset by his presence in the hotel, so he left. Making his way across the plaza, he was surprised to realize he was nervous. He’d performed before hundreds of people and never once felt unsure of himself, but suddenly he had doubts. Not about his love for Emmie but rather if he was being fair to her. After all, he had no idea what the work in Yellowstone might entail. He could be away for long periods of time, and she would be on her own among strangers. Of course, in time she would win everyone over, and they would be as devoted to her as were her waitresses and the rest of the staff at the hotel. But that would all take time.
Bert was waiting on the steps of the church. The man had blubbered with happiness when Max asked if he would serve as his best man. As Max approached, Bert tossed aside his stub of a cigar. “You ready to do this?” he asked, his grin as broad as the flashy polka-dotted bow tie he wore.
“You’re looking mighty fine, Bert,” Max said, ignoring the question.
“And you look like a man who might be having second thoughts,” Bert replied with a scowl. “That girl is the best thing ever to happen to you, Max, and if you walk away now—”
“Nobody’s walking away,” Max grumbled. “It’s these fancy duds Pearl insisted I wear. Where is she, by the way?”
“Over at the hotel, helping your bride get ready. Come on. I’ve got my marching orders. We’re to be inside and not watching when Emma shows up.”
Inside, Father O’Meara welcomed them and led the way to the small room behind the altar where he kept his vestments. “Might as well sit,” he said, indicating a bench. “We’ve got about half an hour, time enough for me to send one of the altar boys out for a sarsaparilla soda for each of you—unless you’d prefer something stronger.”
“Got that covered,” Bert said as he removed a flask from his inside pocket and offered it to Max.
“No, thanks. Best keep my wits about me. I’ll take that soda though.”
The priest nodded and left the room.
“You all right handling the auction on your own?” Max asked.
“That’s the third time you’ve asked, and my answer’s the same. Yes.” He took a nip of the contents of the flask, capped it, and slid it back in his pocket. Then he pulled an envelope from another pocket and handed it to Max. “Me and Pearl got you a little wedding present,” he said and turned away to look out the small window while Max opened the envelope.
Inside was a train ticket to Montana that included passage for Diablo as well. “This is too much, Bert.”
“Naw. As Pearl says, the sooner you get there, the sooner you settle in and send for Emma.”
Max had noticed that ever since the news broke that they would be closing the show for good, Bert had taken to quoting Pearl often. That told him his partner was spending more time with her. “I’ll pay you back,” he said.
“It’s a gift,” Bert muttered. “You’ve given us plenty. Take it.”
Max swallowed a lump of gratitude as he put the ticket in his pocket. “Thanks.” A silence stretched between them. “I’m sure gonna miss working with you, Bert,” he said softly.
“Pearl and me was talking last night about maybe we might come up that way once you and Emma get settled.”
“A wedding trip?”
Bert’s cheeks turned a deep mottled red. “Something like that.”
Max laughed.
Just then, a young boy opened the door and thrust two open bottles of soda at them. “Father says it’s almost time,” he reported. “He’ll be here to get you in about five minutes.”
“Thanks, sonny,” Bert said as he raised the bottle to Max. “To you and Emma,” he said and took a long swallow.
The cold beverage helped, but Max was still anxious as he stood between the priest and Bert. Several townspeople and most of the hotel staff filled several of the pews. Abigail Chambers, who owned the hat shop in town, sat at the pump organ. She was wearing an outlandish hat, obviously a creation of hers meant to advertise her shop. Pearl occupied one of the pews with Grace and Nick’s two children. She was trying to rein them in but not having much success.
Max had never imagined the ceremony would be anything but Emma and him standing along with Bert and Grace as witnesses as the priest led them in repeating their vows. Suddenly, the whole thing had grown into something far more elaborate and formal. Emma had warned him that others had taken charge.
As he ran his forefinger around a collar that was far too stiff and tight for his taste, Father O’Meara nodded, and Abigail struck up a tune that sounded like a fanfare they might have used at the opening of the show. The doors at the back of the sanctuary opened, and Grace Hopkins walked slowly down the center aisle, followed by Nick with Emma on his arm. Max had never seen her looking more beautiful. She wore a forest-green high-necked dress that was trimmed with lace. Her hair was pulled back but fell in curls freely to her shoulders, and she carried a bouquet of wildflowers. She wore no hat or veil, and the late afternoon sun streaming through the tall church windows highlighted the golden streaks of her upswept hair.
As she made her way down the aisle, she kept glancing at him from beneath lowered lashes, and it was only when he smiled at her that she seemed to relax, meet his gaze directly, and return that smile. Before she and Nick reached the altar, Max stepped forward and took Nick’s place. “I’ve got it from here,” he said, and Nick grinned and took a seat in the front pew next to Pearl and the children.
“Dearly beloved,” Father O’Meara intoned, and those were the last words Max really heard. He knew he played his part, repeating vows dictated by the priest, sliding a thin gold band onto her slender finger, and with the priest’s permission, giving his bride a chaste kiss before taking her hand and starting up the aisle. He was aware of women smiling and men clapping him on the shoulder as they passed, but it wasn’t until they were outside and he saw Wolf waiting with Diablo hitched to a buggy that had been decorated with evergreens and paper flowers that it really hit him.
“We’re married,” he said as he stopped on the church steps and looked at Emma.
“I thought that was the plan,” she teased.
“Captain and Mrs. Winslow,” Wolf called, “your carriage awaits.”
Clasping hands, Max and Emma ran lightly down the church steps and climbed into the buggy. Wolf drove twice around the plaza slowly before stopping at the hotel. That gave those attending the ceremony time to walk back. Aidan, George, and the Harvey Girls were lined up to greet them.
“What’s all this?” Max asked as he helped Emma from the buggy.
“I tried to stop them,” Emma said, “but the girls and kitchen staff insisted on a wedding supper, and Aidan says he has a special surprise for us. That’s all I know, honestly.”
Once inside the lobby, their escorts led the way to the dining room, which had been magically transformed into a garden of more greens and paper flowers and a candle centerpiece on every table. Nick and Grace as well as Bert and Pearl were already seated at a head table to either side of two empty places for the newlyweds. A long serving table lined one side of the room with a buffet of meats and fruits and side dishes.
“Oh, Max, they thought of everything,” Emma said as they took their places. “No one needs to serve—we can all serve ourselves.” Crystal wineglasses bubbled with champagne at each place.
Max watched as the waitresses, housekeeping, and kitchen staff took their seats at tables around the room. Several of the townspeople had been invited as well, and soon the room was alive with chatter as the guests lined up at the buffet. Pearl and Grace insisted on preparing plates for Max and Emma. “You are the guests of honor,” Grace reminded them. “Just sit back and enjoy.”
Once they had finished the main course, everyone pitched in to clear away the dishes and reset the places with dessert forks and coffee cups. Then George entered the dining room pushing a cart on which sat a three-tiered decorated cake.
“The frosting is white,” Max heard Grace tell Emma, “but rest assured the cake is chocolate. Someone told us that’s Max’s favorite.”
As soon as the cake was sliced and served and pots of coffee and tea had been added to each table, Aidan stood and lightly tapped his cup with a fork. “Ladies and gentlemen,” he said, calling for attention. “I have a telegram of congratulations I’d like to read the newlyweds. It is from Emma’s dear friends Lily and Cody Daniels, who could not join us on such short notice.” He cleared his throat. “Sending congratulations and best wishes to the happy couple. Stop. Please accept our gift of a night’s stay in the hotel’s grandest suite. Stop.”
The buzz in the room was increasing to the point of nearly drowning out the rest, but Aidan held up his hand and waved a second sheet of paper. “There’s more,” he shouted. “The Harveys have set aside one of their usual requirements that Harvey Girls remain single and granted my request that Miss Elliott—I mean, Mrs. Winslow—be allowed to remain in her quarters and at her post until such time as she leaves us to join Max in Montana.”
A huge cheer resounded through the room.
Max looked at Emma to see how she might be taking this news. They really had not talked about what she might do while he was away. Every time he’d broached the topic, assuring her she had no need to worry about paying for a room in the hotel or anything else, she had waved off any such discussion. “I’ve been on my own for years, Max. I can take care of myself until you send for me.”
But now he saw tears of happiness glistening in her eyes and knew this news was a relief. Beneath the table, he covered her hand and squeezed it.
“To Max and Emma!” Aidan lifted his cup, and everyone rose to their feet and did the same, repeating the toast.
Max was unused to being on this side of any show or celebration. He was usually the one making the speeches or offering the toasts for a show well done or in celebration of a company member’s wedding or the birth of a child. He glanced around the room, studying each happy face. He and Bert had brought the show to Juniper because of its location and mild weather. He’d not once thought of the people he might meet there—the friends he might find, not to mention the woman he would fall in love with. He stood and raised his cup in return. “To the good people of Juniper,” he said, his voice cracking with emotion, “and to the friendships and memories Emmie and I will take with us wherever we go. Thank you one and all.” He took Emma’s hand and urged her to stand with him as once again he raised his cup, this time to her. “To my beautiful bride,” he said. “Today, I count myself the luckiest man alive.”
Instead of drinking from his raised cup, he leaned forward and kissed her, and everyone cheered.
* * *
Emma would not have believed it possible that she could be any happier than she’d been when Max proposed. But she was. Her heart pounded with sheer joy whenever she looked at him or he at her. She was only vaguely aware of the others around her. From the moment he’d stepped forward to take her hand in the church, there had been only Max and her. And when he stood and toasted her and then kissed her, she thought her heart would surely explode.
Now it was Grace who was tapping her fork on a china cup. “Ladies and gentlemen,” she said once she had their attention. “Since Emma and Max will be spending the wedding night right here in the hotel, we have arranged that they will leave here now and take one more ride around the plaza, giving you all the chance to see them off, as it were. Please join us in the lobby.”
Some guests started for the double doors while others gobbled down the last bite of cake and hastily wiped their mouths before rising. Meanwhile, Grace continued to orchestrate the finale. “You and Max wait here until everyone is gathered on the veranda,” she instructed. “Then Chief Gray Wolf will be waiting with Diablo and the buggy. I’ll warn you, there may be a bit of a gauntlet to endure before you are safely aboard, but it’s all in good fun.”
She kissed Emma’s cheek and then Max’s and hurried away. They were truly alone together for the first time all day.
“Well, Mrs. Winslow,” Max said as he tucked a tendril of hair behind her ear. “Are you happy?”
“Happy is too small a word for what I’m feeling, Captain Winslow. Perhaps overjoyed or ecstatic are better. What I know for certain is that I am very delighted to be your wife.”
He wrapped his arms around her. “The honor and delight are all mine, Emmie. You are without a doubt the single thing that has been missing in my life. To have found you and now married you?” He shook his head as if words failed him.
Emma raised herself on tiptoe and kissed him. He tightened his embrace and deepened the kiss.
“Excuse me, but everyone is waiting,” they heard Pearl announce. Reluctantly, Max pulled away without releasing Emma.
“Tell them to keep their shirts on,” he grumbled and turned back to Emma.
She pressed her fingers to his lips. “We should go,” she said softly. “The sooner we go, the sooner they leave and we can…”
Max grinned. “I like the way your mind works, Emmie. Lead the way, Pearl,” he said as he tucked Emma’s hand in the crook of his elbow and together they crossed the dining room.
“Once I open these doors,” Pearl said, her hand on the knobs of the double dining room doors, “I suggest you make a run for the buggy outside.”
“Why?” Max asked.
“You’ll find out,” Pearl replied with a wicked smile. Then she threw open the doors, and they heard Bert shout, “Ladies and gentlemen, the happy couple.”
The guests had lined the route from the dining room through the lobby onto the veranda and all the way down the front path to where Wolf waited with the buggy. As Emma and Max started down the makeshift aisle, they realized they were being pelted with rice.
“What on earth?” Max shouted as he pulled Emma closer to protect her from the storm.
“It’s good luck,” someone shouted.
“A sign of prosperity,” someone else called out.
“And fertility.” That comment set off a wave of laughter and a final downpour of rice as they reached the buggy.
“Drive,” Max ordered, and Wolf snapped the reins.
But as they moved forward, Emma and Max were both smiling and waving. They continued to look back at the hotel until they saw everyone leave or go back inside. As Wolf turned the corner, they settled into their seats, and Emma picked rice kernels from Max’s thick hair, then rested her head on his shoulder, lulled by the gentle rocking of the buggy as Wolf guided it slowly around the plaza. By the time they reached the front of the hotel, everyone was gone, and the sun was just about to set.
Wolf turned to face them. “Well, here you are. I’ll take care of Diablo and meet you tomorrow morning for the train,” he said, his eyes on Max.
Emma knew the chief and his family would also leave the following morning, but their journey would be by wagon and on foot. She sat forward and touched his arm. “I wish you and your family the best,” she said. “Promise you’ll write and let us know once you are settled.”
He patted her hand. “I will. And you take care of yourself, Emma. Not sure what this guy would do if something were to happen to you.”
An unexpected chill ran through Emma’s body. Had George told Wolf about the spider? Had he surmised it was no accident but a threat? Surely not. Wolf was just being kind. She smiled. “I’ll be fine,” she assured him.
Max and Wolf climbed down and shook hands. “Thanks for everything,” Emma heard Max say. Wolf nodded. Then Max was holding his arms out to lift her down from the buggy. “Mrs. Winslow,” he said, “I believe we have a room reserved at this Harvey House, if that suits.”
“It suits just fine,” she said.
They stood on the veranda waving to Wolf as he walked Diablo and the buggy down the street to the livery. When they entered the lobby, for the first time Emma could recall Aidan was not at the front desk. Instead, his assistant presented Max with a key and wished them both a good night, treating them with the same deference given to any guest of the hotel.
The room they’d been assigned was at the opposite end of the hall from the rooms where Max, Bert, and Reba had stayed. Max fitted the key and opened the door. Gas lighting softened the shadows, and she saw that it was really two rooms in one with a sitting area and a large four-poster bed. There was even a private bathroom—small to be sure, but they would not need to walk down the hall.
“Leave it to Lily,” Emma murmured. She had no doubt that her dear friend had made sure she and Max would have the very best the hotel could offer. On a round table near the windows sat a silver bucket filled with ice and a bottle of champagne, as well as two glasses and a plate of the special candies Mr. Tucker carried in his mercantile. Max lifted the bottle.
“Shall I open it?” he asked.
“I’d rather have a nice glass of water,” Emma admitted.
Max grinned and scooped ice from the bucket into each glass before stepping into the bathroom to fill them.
On the bed was the most beautiful nightgown Emma had ever seen and a note.
From Lily and Grace with joy that all three of us have found our true loves!
Max came up behind her and handed her the water. “Your friends have excellent taste,” he said. “Can’t wait to see you try that on.” He faked a yawn. “Come to think of it, it’s been a long day.”
Emma laughed. One of the things she loved most about this man was his ability to put her at ease and make her smile. She knew he was deliberately trying to make this night as memorable as possible—a night they would cherish for years to come.
“I agree,” she said as she picked up the nightgown and went to the bathroom. “I won’t be long,” she promised and closed the door.
Her hands shook as she unfastened the buttons on her dress and stepped out of it, folded it, and set it on the edge of the sink, then did the same for her undergarments. Naked, she picked up the gown that was made of a cream-colored closely woven batiste, light as air. It would not leave much to the imagination, she was sure. It had an exquisite wide lace collar that fell away from the round neckline and the ribbons that closed the front of the garment. Similar lace formed the sleeves from the elbow to her wrists. The rest of the gown was unadorned.
Barefoot, she turned to catch a look at herself in the oval mirror above the sink. She removed the combs that held her hair back and arranged it over her shoulders. She bit her lips and pinched her cheeks, trying to add some color.
“Emmie?” Max knocked lightly at the door. “Are you all right?”
“Yes. Coming,” she called and took one more look at herself before drawing in a deep breath and opening the door.
He’d lowered the lights and turned back the covers on the bed. He was barefoot and naked to the waist, the top button of his trousers undone.
“Oh, Emmie,” he whispered when he saw her.
She knew the streetlamp outside the window cast a glow behind her, exposing her silhouette beneath the thin fabric of the gown. She was tempted to cover herself by wrapping the folds of fabric closer to her body, but when she saw the way Max was looking at her, she realized that to him she was indeed beautiful—desirable.
They moved toward each other until she could feel his breath warm against her skin as he untied the first ribbon, and then the second. It seemed an eternity but was only seconds before he pushed the fabric away to expose her shoulders. He kissed her throat, her collarbone, her bare shoulder, and used his teeth to pull the gown lower until he’d uncovered one breast. He cupped her with his hand, his thumb teasing her nipple as his mouth covered hers in a kiss so filled with passion Emma thought she might faint.
She clung to him, pressing herself to him until she felt the swell of his desire. He trailed kisses down her neck to her breast, suckling her as he dispensed with the nightgown, letting it fall to the floor in a pool at her feet. Then he lifted her, urging her to wrap her bare legs around his waist as he carried her to the bed. He lay her against the pile of pillows and quickly finished undressing before lying down next to her.
She reached for him, but he stopped her by kneeling next to her and planting a trail of kisses from the hollow of her neck to the juncture of her thighs. She felt a jolt of pleasure like none she’d ever imagined when he massaged her inner thighs. Spontaneously, she lifted her hips to meet his touch, wanting more. He obliged by slipping his fingers inside her, stroking her until she thought she might go mad with her need for him to enter her. She clutched at his hips and back, her nails scraping over his skin as she urged him to fill her.
In an instant, he lifted and turned her so that she was astride him. “I don’t know what to do,” she said, her voice shaking with emotion.
“Yes, you do, love. We’re one—two parts of a whole,” he whispered as he positioned her so that he could slide inside.
And as if she’d been born to it, she moved with him, joining him in this lover’s dance where no one led and no one followed, but they were as a single body moving together toward a pinnacle only the two of them could reach. And Emma understood that the sheer bliss of that moment would stay with her for all the days of her life.
Through the night, they dozed and woke to make love again. Too soon, Emma saw the dawn creeping in to scatter the shadows. Too soon, she knew Max would have to rise and dress—and leave.
Too soon, she would be alone.
* * *
Max stood on the platform, his saddlebags slung over one shoulder, his free arm around Emma’s waist as they watched a railway worker load Diablo. He had known leaving would be hard but could never have imagined the way his heart raced with a kind of panic—a feeling something was not right.
Earlier as they lay in bed watching the sun brighten the large room, they had talked about the future—their future. How he would get to Yellowstone and assess the situation, find them a place to live, and send for her as soon as possible. He was anxious for them to start their life together and impatient with the very idea of this necessary delay.
But Emma had assured him they would both be so busy with work, the time would fly by. “It’s important we get off to the best possible start. We’ll have years to share,” she’d said, snuggling more closely against him as she stroked his face as if trying to memorize each feature.
“All aboard!” The conductor paced the platform as he shouted his command.
Max set his saddlebags down and wrapped both arms around Emma. “I have to go,” he said unnecessarily.
“I know,” she replied, her eyes glistening with tears he knew she would not allow to fall. “Wire me the minute you arrive so I know you are there and safe,” she said.
Max kissed her. “You’ll write me?”
“Every day,” she promised.
The train whistle let out a long, shrill blast.
They were the only two people left on the platform. The conductor stood on the metal stairs of a passenger car. “Come on, buddy. Kiss her and let’s go.”
Max didn’t need permission. Emma was his wife. He could kiss her anywhere, anytime.
The train let out a belch of steam and started to slowly roll forward.
“Go,” Emma urged. “Let’s begin this adventure.”
Max grabbed his saddlebags and dashed for the train, catching hold of the stair railing in time to pull himself aboard as the train picked up speed. The conductor shook his head and entered the passenger car, but Max stayed where he was. He was determined to keep Emma in sight for as long as possible. She hurried along the length of the platform, waving and smiling. “I love you,” she shouted, although her words were lost in the noise of the moving train.
Max was smiling as he took his seat by a window. This adventure, she had called it, and that was exactly what it was. There had been nothing ordinary about their meeting or brief courtship. Some would say they had rushed into a marriage neither of them could possibly guarantee would last. And yet Max had never been more certain of anything in his entire life as he was that he and Emma had been destined to find each other and build a life together.
Still smiling, he leaned his head against the window and felt sleep about to overtake him. He chuckled as he realized a good long nap was exactly what was called for. After all, neither he nor Emma had gotten much sleep the night before.
* * *
Emma stayed on the platform until the last car of the train had disappeared, then walked slowly back to the hotel. The hour was early, and the shops had not yet opened. The plaza was deserted. The quiet was an appropriate backdrop to her melancholy now that Max was gone.
Work!
That was the answer. She would throw her heart and soul into helping Aidan choose her replacement and training the person. In the meantime, she would make sure every file and report were up-to-date, and because they were still shorthanded since Trula’s position had never been filled, she would go back to being a regular Harvey Girl, serving customers wherever she was needed. It would set a good example for the others.
Drawing in a deep breath, she bypassed the front entrance to the hotel and crossed the veranda, running her fingers lightly over the rocking chairs where she and Max had so often sat. At the kitchen entrance, George looked up.
“He’s gone?”
She nodded and bit her lower lip. Hearing the words spoken aloud somehow added to the reality of her situation. “I’ll just go change,” she murmured and fled up the back stairs. She stopped at the second floor and hurried down the hall to the suite where she and Max had spent their first night as man and wife.
She closed the door and stood with her back to it, surveying the rumpled covers of the bed, and saw the nightgown puddled on the floor. That made her smile and then giggle. She certainly hadn’t gotten much wear out of the garment. But there would be other nights—a lifetime of nights.
She picked up the gown and folded it carefully. Then she removed the case from the pillow Max had slept on and folded that as well. She pressed the fabric to her nose, inhaling his scent. She would cover the pillow in her room on the third floor with the case, and in some small way it would be as if he were there with her.
Checking to be sure neither she nor Max had left anything behind, she left the room and hurried up to the third floor. On her door was a note, and she recognized the handwriting as Aidan’s.
Please come to my office as soon as possible once Max is gone. Aidan
Ford Harvey was due to arrive any day now, and Emma suspected Aidan’s nerves were getting the better of him. She hurried to wash and change out of her wedding clothes and into her uniform. Expertly, she swept her hair up and secured it with hairpins and the white bow all the waitresses wore. As she reached around to tie the sash of her apron, she heard the other girls come down the hall. With a last check of her appearance, she opened her door.
“Good morning, ladies,” she said brightly and had to work hard to keep from laughing at their shocked faces.
“Miss E, what on earth?” Melba demanded.
“We thought you and the captain,” Nan began, then blushed scarlet. “You know.”
“I have just come from seeing the captain off,” Emma said as she led the way downstairs. “And now it’s time for work. Mr. Campbell wants to see me, so I’ll trust you ladies to get everything ready for the breakfast service.”
Melba released a long breath of pure frustration. “And that’s it? Nothing has changed?”
Emma patted the girl’s cheek. “Oh, Melba, a good deal has changed,” she said softly and then winked as she went to find Aidan. Behind her, she heard the girls giggling and chattering as they went about their morning tasks.