Charles/Laura fic, chapter 16 'Through Time & Seasons'
Through Time & Seasons
By Missbevcrusher
Rated [M]
This story is the continuation, as I see it, of the movie For All Time.
Lost the thread? A condensed recap of the story can be found (here)
Previous chapters can be found in their entirety (here)
Thanks go out to tayryn for doing such a great job with the beta. I really appreciate it, girl.
Chapter 16 ~ Shall We?
Water fell from the kettle’s mouth, gentle and steaming hot, the stream glittering as it tumbled forth in the late afternoon sunlight.
Alone in her bedroom, Laura was preparing a bath, filling her cast iron tub one kettle at a time, adding cold water every now and again so she wouldn’t scald herself.
It was Saturday and, despite all the day’s chores, she was in a good mood, her heart swelling in her chest at the thought of spending a carefree evening with Charles. No work. No burdens. Just dancing.
It would be refreshing, she thought, a much needed change of routine.
And she couldn’t wait.
Swirling her fingers in the water, Laura smiled to herself. The temperature was perfect, exactly what was needed to erase a hard day’s work. Straightening, she came to stand in front of her vanity. There-with the sound of songbirds filtering through the open window-she removed her hairpins one by one, then watched as her hair fell in a wavy curtain over and down her shoulders.
There was something to be said about anticipation, she thought.
Standing there, she felt…
Angling her head to the side, Laura bit her bottom lip.
What did she feel?
It was hard to define. Beautiful wasn’t the right word-because honestly, she looked like someone who had spent the day toiling around on a farm. But at the same time, she felt a surge of feminine assurance. It wasn’t conceit, she decided. But rather, what a woman feels when she is about to spend an evening with a man who truly loves and appreciates her.
Placing the flat of her palm over her heart, she took a breath and closed her eyes for a moment or two.
Charles Lattimer…
Just the thought of him was enough to stir the butterflies in her belly. Those blue eyes. That easy smile. The way he would sometimes touch and kiss her…
A delightful shiver coursing up her spine, Laura unfastened the top button of her blouse. She was staring at the mirror but her eyes weren’t really seeing. In truth, her thoughts had taken flight, swirling in a delightful space of what ifs and maybes.
Daydreaming… She chuckled quietly. It was rather silly for a grown woman. But she couldn’t help it. Furthermore, she didn’t want to. It was nice.
Not wanting to dawdle needlessly however, Laura allowed her clothing to fall at her feet. Then, passing a hand through the weighty mass of her hair, she made for the washtub and eased herself into the water. Doing so, she felt all of her weariness ebb away. As the soothing warmth suffused her being, relaxing her tired muscles, her skin rose in gooseflesh.
Much better, she thought, only vaguely aware of the muffled sounds coming from the kitchen.
Her mother was toiling about as usual, and Mary was still outside. From time to time, she could hear the faint and distant lilt of her little girl’s laughter through the open window. It was a heartening sound, one she would never tire of hearing.
Truly and utterly content, Laura sighed, then looked to her right.
Next to the tub was a wooden chair, onto which she had placed a porcelain pitcher and a dish holding a bar of home-made soap. On the back of this chair was a folded length of linen, the fabric made softer with age but still very white.
Hand reaching for the pitcher, Laura scooped a generous amount of water and tilted her head back, pouring the contents until her brown locks fell, straight and waterlogged, down her back.
While it was somewhat self-indulgent, she couldn’t help but wish for some of the fancy toiletries she often saw in the catalogue-things such as scented oils and perfume.
But this wasn’t the city, and she wasn’t one of those high society dames. Rather, she was but a country girl, a provider of average means, and as such would have to contend with what she had.
And what she had was plenty when she really stopped to think about it-a wonderful family, a man she was head over heals in love with, and steady employment.
Washing with care, Laura glanced toward her vanity, and the hairbrush which sat atop of it.
Tonight nothing but the best would do. She would coif her hair just so and don her new Sunday dress-that this was a Saturday was of little consequence to her.
Her thoughts gravitating back to Charles, Laura laughed quietly at herself.
Surely, he’s not fussing as much as I am.
He couldn’t be.
~~~
“Ah, come on, Charlie.”
Three.
That was the number of times Charles had adjusted his jacket in the past minute or so. It was also the number of times he had finger combed his hair.
He was nervous, wanted to look just right for the social tonight. And it was now getting ridiculous.
“Time to go,” he said to himself, turning from the mirror and grabbing the small bouquet of wild flowers he had picked earlier that afternoon. It was a simple arrangement of white avens and prairie roses, but he reckoned Laura would like it.
She had a love for flowers.
With a jittery breath leaving his lungs, Charles decided he had dawdled enough. Leaving the room, he ventured into the kitchen and found Mrs. Davis at the table. She was trying to breathe new life into an old work shirt, her slender fingers working to turn the collar inside out before sewing it back on.
“All ready to go?” she asked, smiling.
“I think so, yeah.”
“Those are lovely.” Mrs. Davis offered at length, referring to the flowers.
“Thanks,” Charles replied, shifting on his feet.
“I must say, I’m rather envious.”
“Envious?”
“Going to a social.” A look of nostalgia crossed her face, but she was still smiling. “It’s been so long since we’ve been to one.”
“You should go.”
At this, she chuckled. “You know Jeffrey. Dancing’s not exactly his thing.”
“That’s too bad. Not that I’m much of a dancer myself,” he clarified, thinking about the two-step and how he had never danced in that particular style.
Setting her sewing down, Mrs. Davis rose and went to pour herself a cup of tea. Doing so, she looked over her shoulder. “We won’t wait up. So go and enjoy yourself. You deserve it.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Davis.” Charles straightened as he said this. His shoelaces had been loose and he had seen fit to re-tie them.
“Don’t mention it. Now go, or you’re gonna be late.”
“Yes, ma’am.” With that, Charles left the house and started for the barn.
The slanting rays of the sun were quite warm this evening, the breeze gentle and barely noticeable. It was perfect, especially considering the social would be held outside.
Stepping through the rustic double doors, he looked to his right. “Hey there, Apple. Ready to go?”
Working at the livery was something of a blessing for Charles had been able to rent his own transportation at minimal cost. Oh, they could have taken Turnip, but this was a date and he wanted to be a gentleman, keep things traditional.
For tonight, he had chosen a white mare of calm temperament and a simple road wagon. Soon, he planned on buying his own horse though. He only needed to save more money.
With a gentle pat to the side of the animal’s neck, Charles led Apple outside, where the wagon was waiting. Once he had secured the lines, he made for the side and climbed on. Then, with a flick of the reins, he was off, traversing the patchwork of fields and pastures that were the lifeblood of the families around here.
The horse kept a steady pace throughout the ride, her head bobbing up and down as her hooves clopped on the earthen road.
When Laura’s house came into view, Charles sat a bit straighter. His pulse had quickened, and his hands felt hot.
He shouldn’t have been nervous. There was no reason to be. But he was, a little bit. Maybe it was the anticipation, or simply his desire to make the most of this rare opportunity. Whatever the cause, it made him look at his jacket and shirt one last time.
Your shirt’s fine, Charlie. Stop checking.
Flicking the reins, Charles urged Apple to pick up the pace. She did, slowing to a stop only once they were in the yard.
Hand reaching for the parking break, he heard a creaking sound-that of the front door-and looked up.
“Whoa…” a mere whisper, spoken as he straightened and stared.
Laura was standing in the doorway, looking absolutely lovely in a dress he had never seen before.
Rusty red, it was of similar cut to the dress she had worn at the presidential rally. The jacket was short, revealing the fitted V-shaped waist band of her skirt. Also, it had slender sleeves and a raised collar. The blouse she wore underneath was white bordering on cream. He could see delicate embroidery at the neckline, a decidedly feminine touch perfectly suited for her. Finishing the ensemble was her hat, a lovely straw bonnet with a floral trim.
It was her smile, though, that drew his eyes the most, the warmth and joy it conveyed.
Swallowing, Charles descended from the wagon and went to her.
“Wow, you look…” The words wouldn’t form. She had robbed him of thought and taken his breath away.
“Thank you.” Laura laughed quietly as she said this and her cheeks turned soft pink. “You don’t look so bad yourself.”
They looked at one another for what seemed like a long moment. After several heartbeats however, Charles realized what he was doing, cleared his throat and said, “Before I forget…” His voice dropped to a murmur. “Here you go.”
Extending the bouquet, he watched as she reached for it, light filling her gaze.
“These are lovely.” The utterance was hushed, blending seamlessly with the rustle of nearby leaves as her fingers curled around the stems. She brought the flowers to her nose. “Thank you.”
“My pleasure.” He meant it, too.
This evening was theirs for the taking, and he wanted it to be perfect, especially for Laura.
She deserved it.
“Oh, pretty flowers!” The spirited words came as the front door opened. It was Mary, looking as excited as she had sounded.
“Aren’t they?” Laura turned to her daughter and extended the bouquet so the little girl could see it.
“They smell good.” Her merry gaze rising to meet his, she continued. “Hello, Mr. Lattimer.”
“Hi there, Mary.”
“Mama says you’re going dancing.”
He nodded. “That’s the plan.”
“When I’m older,” the girl started, her gaze flickering back to her mother’s. “Will I be able to go at those things?”
“Of course.”
“Next year?” she asked, hopeful.
Laughing softly, Laura shook her head. “Not next year, no. In a few.”
Mary made a face, but her expression wasn’t petulant. Instead, her eyes conveyed that simple impatience so common to little girls-the desire to bypass childhood and shoot straight through to young adulthood.
“You’ll grow up fast enough. Believe me. Now you be good tonight.” Laura lowered her lips to the girl’s head, kissed her briefly. “Do as your grandmother says.” Then, handing over the flowers, she kindly asked if they could be put in water.
Once Mary had agreed, mother and daughter said goodnight.
“So,” Laura started when the door swung shut. “Shall we?”
“Yes, of course.” He extended his arm and she smiled, gladly accepting the invitation. Then, they walked, their footfalls timed perfectly to each other, as her other hand journeyed to his elbow, giving it a slight squeeze.
Charles liked that, looked at her sidelong and sent his hand to cover hers.
Near the wagon, they heard a blue robin in the distance, its song an uplifting ‘chur-a-lee’.
After helping her up, he made his way to the other side, climbed to his seat, and grabbed the reins.
The ride into town was pleasant, the perfect start to what he hoped would be a memorable evening. As the sun warmed his face, the breeze stirred and brought with it a subtle scent of lavender. Smiling, he threw a furtive glance at Laura for it was actually her scent. She had a habit of hanging a sachet of dried flowers with her dresses. He knew because she had told him once.
“What are you doing?” She had asked one morning, giggling softly.
His reply had followed a lengthy inhalation, his nose buried in the crook of her neck. “You smell nice.”
“I keep lavender in my armoire at home.” Her fingers kept on typing. “Now stop or I won’t get any work done.”
Charles had obliged but not before kissing her neck one last time. She had laughed.
It was a nice memory.
Back to the here and now, he observed her out of the corner of his eye, feeling a healthy measure of pride for the privilege of having her on his arm tonight.
“What?” she asked, a curious glimmer lighting her features. “You’re smiling.”
“So are you,” he remarked before confessing. “I guess… It’s just that I’ve been looking forward to this.”
Laura seemed touched. Her eyes were bright and her smile remained. “Me, too.”
They fell into a comfortable silence after this, their gazes looking to the horizon until they reached the edge of town.
There were a lot of wagons on the road this evening, folks waving and smiling to one another as they made their way to a night of fun and socializing.
“Evenin’, Mrs. Brown,” said one of the passersby on Main Street-a young woman who was walking arm in arm with her husband or suitor.
Laura waved in return, nodding when she said, “Good evening, Ms. Bell.”
There was a festive air about the town and it was nice to see.
Nearing the vacant field adjacent to the train station, Charles got Apple to slow and turn left. Once they had come to a stop, he helped Laura off the wagon, his mouth quirking in delight when she took the initiative and looped her arm through his.
Then, with their profiles bathed evening sunlight, they made their way toward the park.
Judging by the sound of a fiddle being played, the social was already in full swing. It was a lively rhythm. From what Charles could hear, there was a banjo as well, maybe even a guitar.
The park finally came into view and they smiled.
A good number of people were dancing already, executing a vivacious series of steps, all timed perfectly to each other.
“Swing em’ high, swing em’ low! Hold em’ tight and let em’ go!” said the man leading the dance-this stout little fellow with reddish hair and a thick handlebar mustache. He stood on the gazebo next to a trio of musicians, all of them wearing hats.
While very entertaining, the sight of square dancing was yet another reminder that he was way out of his element here.
“We can sit this one out if you want.” Intuitive as always, Laura squeezed his arm, her mirthful expression filled with understanding when she said, “Come on.”
And so their evening got underway, the two of them smiling and mingling as folks crossed their path.
First, there was Mr. Finnell and his wife, the mild-mannered couple who ran the telegraph office. Then came Mrs. Branch, a very enthusiastic woman who spoke with a sing-song voice. Though she could be a bit much-especially after a few minutes of continuous gabbing-Charles liked her well enough. She seemed kind, well intentioned, something Laura echoed on quiet laughter as the older woman left them to rejoin her husband. “She means well.”
At last they had reached one of the long tables on eastern side of the park. Minding his manners, Charles pulled out a chair, inviting Laura to sit first. “Folks did a great job here,” he observed, taking a seat next to her.
“They did,” she agreed, looking all around.
A lot of work had been put into this, it was true.
For a day and a half now, folks had been making preparations, readying the grounds for the social. They had started with additional lighting, a series of lanterns which hung above the grassy area in a crisscross pattern. Along with the square’s regular lamp posts, these would provide the illumination needed for tonight.
And then, of course, there were decorations-things such as red lengths of fabric, twisted and coiled around the wooden beams supporting the gazebo. It didn’t stop in the park either. Some of the surrounding buildings had been made to look festive, too.
As nice as it was, though, it wasn’t enough to hold Charles’ attention for long.
Like a moth to a flame, his gaze always seemed drawn to the woman who had essentially captured his heart. He could not help it, didn’t really want to.
Right now, Laura was observing the festivities, her body swaying ever so slightly with the music. “See what they’re doing with their feet?” she started, oblivious of the fact that he was staring at her. “It goes one, two, and then slide.”
Her gaze flickered back to his just then, and a blush came to paint her cheeks. It wasn’t shyness, but something else… something he could only describe as a delicate boldness.
To tell the truth, it was one of the things he loved most about her… how her eyes held these balmy undercurrents whenever they shared a subtle look like this.
“Sorry we’re late,” a woman said, essentially interrupting the moment.
Sudden as it was however, the intrusion was not entirely unwelcome for they had been expecting this particular couple.
Accompanied by her husband, Sally Stevens was all smiles, her hands rising to remove her knitted shawl from around her shoulders.
“So glad you made it,” Laura said.
“Took a bit of arm twistin’,” the blond woman admitted, throwing a playful glance at her husband as he pulled out a chair for her. “But we made it.”
“What can I say?” Hands lingering on the edge of the backrest, Jim shrugged. “I’m a good husband.” With that, he sank into the chair beside her and extended his hand to Charles. “Lattimer, right?”
Save for the times he had shopped at the general store, Charles had never really interacted with Sally’s husband. While he looked to be in his forties, the man had yet to start graying. Deep brown, his hair was a shade or two lighter than his eyes. His face was clean-shaven, too.
Charles accepted the handshake with a friendly nod. “That would be me.”
“Well, I’d say the festival is off to a good start.” Sally observed, and they all agreed.
The next few minutes were spent in pleasant conversation-though admittedly, the women did most of the talking. It could have been annoying for the men, but it wasn’t-not for Charles anyway. He liked the fact that Laura had a best friend, a woman with whom she could indulge in the time honoured tradition of girl chit chat.
Presently, they were admiring each other’s dresses. And as he smiled to himself, Charles could only form one thought; Nineteenth century or not, some things never change.
“I hear you’re working for John McFarland.” Jim suddenly chimed in, obviously opting out of the women’s ongoing conversation.
“I am.”
“He’s a good man. John.” After a second or so, his thoughts seemed to shift and he nudged his head toward the train station and beyond. “Must be different from the big city. Livin’ out here I mean.”
“It is. But I can’t say it’s a bad thing.” Casting a glance at Laura, Charles felt a level of contentment unlike any he had experienced in his old life. “Quite the opposite even.”
And so they talked, exchanging stories and anecdotes as the sun dipped ever lower, gradually disappearing behind the train station.
If he was honest, Charles found he rather liked these folks.
By far, Sally was the most talkative of the two. Cheerful and inquisitive, she could certainly liven up a conversation. Her zest for life reminded him of Al in a way and, for a moment, he couldn’t help but think back to the 21st century and the good times he had spent with his best friend.
Jim, for his part, was definitely the quieter of the two, but no less affable. Charles could easily envision being friends with him.
The social continued apace and the Stevens finally rose to dance.
“That’s a two-step waltz,” Laura explained to him, her gaze following the sea of movement in the dance area.
At first glance, it didn’t seem all that difficult. The pace was on the slow side, the steps not overly complicated. With her help, Charles reckoned he could pick it up. At least, he hoped so.
“While I can’t guarantee that I won’t embarrass myself, or you for that matter. I’d love to try.”
At this she arched her eyebrows. “Are you asking me to dance, Mr. Lattimer?”
Smiling at the formal enunciation of his name, Charles looked at her for a moment. “Absolutely.”
Her expression changed to one of pure delight and his heart stirred because of it.
Rising, he held out his hand, loving the warm feel of her palm as it came to cover his. There was an air of assurance about her as she rose. And he liked that, found it helped calm his nerves.
The two were soon making their way through the crowd, turning to face one another once they had found a suitable spot. Eyes rooted onto hers, Charles encircled her waist and took hold of her right hand.
“Just relax,” Laura said, sensing how tense he was. “We’ll keep it simple.”
Putting his trust in her, Charles listened to a few basic instructions, then started leading as best he could, hoping to God he didn’t embarrass himself, or worse yet, Laura.
To his relief, it wasn’t so bad.
Sure, there were a few fumbles at first, especially during turns, but soon he got the hang of it, or at least it seemed that way. “How am I doing?”
“You’re a fast learner.” Laura’s voice was laced with delight, her eyes even more so. It was encouraging. Her enjoyment as his reward, Charles’ nervousness began to dissipate, replaced instead by the sheer pleasure of having her in his arms.
Laura was graceful, blessed with an ease of movement that reminded him of a leaf gently floating on the breeze.
She looked beautiful… and happy. And she was here with him.
God, I’m lucky.
A second trickled past, and then another. Finally, Charles drew a breath, confessed. “I love seeing you smile like that.”
…
At those words, Laura shivered, a flutter beginning low in her belly as he led her on a turn without an ounce of awkwardness. His palm was warm against the small of her back, and the hand holding hers was sure and steady.
There might have been a lot of people around, but right now, it felt as though they were the only two people in the world.
Angling her head to the side, Laura regarded him for a moment. “Sometimes I wonder… just how it is you came to find me.”
They would never understand why. She knew that. But still, she couldn’t help but wonder at times.
“I do, too.” Barely audible, his reply was delivered as the song faded to nothing.
For several heartbeats, their gazes held, unwavering even as clapping erupted around them.
Had it not been unseemly, Laura would have kissed him right then and there. Goodness, how she wanted to.
In the end, she simply allowed her eyes to map his face as Charles asked her to dance one more time.
The musicians started playing just then, the melody floating over intermittent laughter as twilight sought dominion over dusk. Content to let the moment, and the dulcet tones of the music carry her, Laura followed his lead and sighed.
It was pleasant, yes. But it was more than that, too.
Quite frankly, there was something inherently satisfying about dancing with the man she someday hoped to marry-especially here, in full view of those who had thought she would never find love again.
The musicians kept on playing and the swirling disk of dancers grew thicker as more and more folks left the surrounding tables. But when the song changed to one suited for square dancing, the two decided it was time for a breather.
“That was fun,” Charles said once they had emerged from the crowd. At that moment, something caught his attention, he gave a small jerk of his head. “Seems we weren’t the only ones who needed a break.”
Following his gaze, Laura saw that Sally and Jim were already seated at the table, each of them nursing a glass of punch.
“Looks good.” Charles said to them, smiling.
“Nothing like a glass of punch after a round of dancin’,” Sally replied, her eyes atwinkle as the rim touched her lips.
“I think I’m gonna go get another one.” This time, it was Jim who spoke, hand rising to down the rest of his beverage. Once finished, he turned to his wife, asked if she wanted another one.
“Thank you, but it’s fine.”
“Very well.” To Charles, he then continued, “You comin’ with?”
Meeting Laura’s gaze, he seemed to ponder the query. “Would you like some punch?” he asked her.
Indeed, Laura was thirsty. “Please,” she answered, then watched him go, her insides awhirl with all the emotions he evoked in her.
“You two looked great out there.” These words left Sally’s mouth as soon as the men were out of earshot.
“Did we?” Taking a seat, Laura could only imagine the ear splitting smile she wore.
“Indeed.” Her voice dropping to a more discrete level, her friend leaned slightly forward, clearly hungry for details. “Now tell me, how’d he ask you to the social?”
“Actually, I asked him,” she clarified.
“You did?” Sally’s eyebrows rose, but the look on her face seemed to be one of delight rather than surprise. “Good for you!” Leaning back in her chair, she continued. “You know, I wish more women were like you. No, scratch that.” Her eyes darted toward the punch table. “I wish more men were like that beau of yours.”
At this, Laura laughed in hushed tones. It was true that Charles stood out when it came to his progressive ways.
“He doesn’t seem to be as…” Sally paused, searching for the right word. “As rigid and closed-minded as some of the folks here in town.”
“Jim isn’t so bad either,” Laura countered.
Though he differed from Charles in many ways, Jim treated Sally as an equal. The general store was in his name but she ran and cared for the place just as much as he did. He didn’t seem threatened by it and would openly defer to his wife’s judgment as well as seek her advice.
“True.” Light blue eyes set in a faraway gaze, Sally smiled. “He’s been good to me.” Then, on a blink, she turned the tables yet again. “But look at you. It’s been so long since I’ve seen you this happy.”
Her gaze fairly sparkled when she said this, reminding Laura of a time when they were both in school-a mismatched but steadfast duo, best friends, their heads filled with innumerable daydreams and the occasional mischief.
And just like in those days, she trusted Sally with her secrets.
Her heart stretched to bursting with the desire to confide in someone, she gave in and did exactly that. “Oh, Sal… would you believe my stomach has been in knots all day? I feel so… I don’t know. Giddy and ridiculous, like, like…” She shook her head. “Goodness, he makes me…” It was hard to explain.
“He makes your heart race?” her friend discretely finished for her.
“Yes.” There was no point in denying it. And there was no shame either. Not with Sally. “Sometimes, he just looks at me and my heart beats so fast, it feels like it’s gonna give out. I thought I was too old to feel this way.”
“The heart knows what it wants. Doesn’t matter if you’re sixteen or forty.“
“Forty-three,” Laura corrected, arching her eyebrows as her friend conceded with a dismissive flip of her hand.
“Fine. Forty-three” Sally said, echoing the age they both shared. “Doesn’t make us old. Besides,” She leveled her gaze at her, a knowing smile coming to curve her mouth. “I see the way he looks at you, all starry-eyed, full of admiration. The man’s crazy about you, Laura. It’s clear as day.”
In the wake of these words, Laura’s cheeks flushed for the umpteenth time that night. What her friend had just said wasn’t news to her. She knew how much Charles loved her. But thinking about it now, knowing the evening was still young and full of promise…
Her insides aflutter, she looked to her friend once more and laughed quietly.
“He really could be the one, huh?” Sally’s query was spoken in a low voice.
A second went by and then another. “I’m convinced that he is.” A confident statement, but not one she deemed excessively presumptuous.
Her relationship with Charles-though thrilling and new-was quite serious. In a way, it always had been. After all, their paths had been guided by hands unseen. Time travel. Fate. And the strange but splendid wonder called love at first sight-at least in Charles’ case. It had taken slightly longer for her; the span of an afternoon. A slightly different version of love at first sight, she supposed.
“How’s your mother taking all this,” her friend inquired at length, altering the course of their conversation.
“She’s coming around, I think.” Shrugging, Laura went on to admit, “Oh, I wouldn’t call it complete acceptance just yet, but she tolerates him well enough.”
“That’s good.”
“It is,” she agreed. “And when I lose sight of that, I just remind myself that it could be worse.” An image crossed her mind just then-her mother standing on the front porch, sporting an angry scowl, a hairsbreadth away from shooing Charles with a broom. It might have been a slightly exaggerated scenario, but considering the older woman’s protective streak, it could have very well happened. Luckily-thank the Lord-it hadn’t, and now she could relax somewhat, both glad and grateful for the reluctant truce her mother seemed to have awarded him.
The men came back and the evening wore on. Slowly but surely, the skies were darkening, the expanse of which was speckled with emerging stars, some bright and glinting, others dimmer but no less beautiful. In the middle of this lovely tapestry was the moon. Full and bright, it shone down on them, a welcome witness to the merriment in the park.
As the foursome talked and laughed, songs were struck one after the other. After a time though, Jim started yawning in spite of himself.
“I apologize. Seems the day is finally catchin’ up with me.” He stretched before going on to say that he had risen earlier than usual that morning.
After a brief exchange, the Stevens finally conceded that it might be best to head on home.
“Sorry to bail early like this.” Sporting a look of genuine apology, Sally rose alongside her husband.
“Don’t worry about it,” Charles replied at the same time Laura said, “It’s alright.”
“I hope you two will stay and enjoy yourselves. You deserve it.” This last line was directed mostly at Laura. With a merry glimmer in her eyes, Sally then bid them goodnight. Jim did the same.
As the couple retreated, Laura set her empty glass on the table, turning to look at Charles when he asked, “Having a good time?”
“The best.” Her answer was truthful, spoken as folks clapped in time with the lively tune that was being played. But when Charles asked her if she wanted to dance again-candlelight scintillating in his blue-grey eyes-she found herself wavering back and forth, unable to make up her mind.
“I would love to, but I don’t think my feet are up to it.” Bringing a hand to his forearm, Laura gave an apologetic smile. “You don’t mind, do you?”
He chuckled. “Not at all.” And there it was, that easy smile he often reserved for her.
Like so many times before, it proved to be the final catalyst in a growing sense of longing, one that seemed ever-present these days.
With a definite heaviness settling in her chest, Laura watched him, her mind already playing what she wanted above all else.
Hoping he would decipher her invitation, she gave a small smile and rose, subtly nudging her head in a way that said, “Come with me.”
But bless him, he misunderstood.
“I don’t blame you for wanting to turn in,” he said kindly once he had risen.
Unable to help the mirthful smile that came to paint her mouth, Laura said nothing, simply took the arm he offered and started toward the street.
Charles was so considerate, a complete gentleman.
Cushioned by the grass, their footfalls were silent at first. When they finally started crossing the street however, the dirt crunched beneath their soles, breaking the growing stillness as they moved further away from the park.
At length, they reached the wagon and, as they got underway, Laura decided to give voice to what was twirling around in her head. “The night’s still young,” she said, catching his curious, but hopeful, expression, on a sidelong glance. “Unless you’re tired of course.”
At this, Charles blinked a few times, her meaning finally sinking in. “No. No, I’m... I’m not tired at all.”
The way he stumbled was adorable and she found herself laughing softly. “Good.”
Looking up at the dark, cerulean sky, Laura yielded to the wagon’s gentle sway. She needed this, needed to indulge in some time alone with him, to enjoy herself and be selfish for once.
Lamp-lit streets soon gave way to fields and pastures. Crickets were chirping away this evening, the sound carrying far and wide. The sweet quietness of night.
The moon was higher now, the stars slightly brighter, too. As the breeze rose yet again, tickling the side of her face, Laura momentarily leaned her head on his shoulder, catching his gaze when he asked, “Where to, Mrs. Brown?”
True, she hadn’t really thought about where they were going. Pondering the question, Laura looked to the surrounding landscape, lingering greatly on the tree-line’s jagged silhouette.
“I think I have an idea.”
In truth, she was envisioning weathered trees, tall and entwined, as well as the calm and mirror-like surface of moonlit water…
The place Charles had dubbed the river hollows.
Continue to chapter 17