Looking up at this black-haired young woman in her unaccustomed but becoming carnation pink, he grinned. “Well, it wouldn’t hurt, would it? Everybody could use a little sympathy now and then.”
“Sympathy for who?” Reese was strolling toward them, hand in hand with his lady love.
“Oh, Doctor Havers, here, has just been complaining about his lot in life,” Hannah said, grinning. She spread her lovely skirts and took one of the extra chairs simply sitting around waiting for her to decorate it. “He seems to feel he isn’t appreciated.”
Revelry continued around those in this intimate family group, with some guests (mostly male) making their way through the food line once again, some guests (mostly older female) trying to contain and clean up, some guests (mostly younger female) pulling partners out for another dance. And some guests, all the children, racing around to chase early fireflies, roll hoops or play ball, and trip unwary adults in their passage to and fro.
The Burton clan seemed to be holding court, as Ben and Camellia, looking about as blissfully tired and happy as anyone could be, emerged from the crowd to pull up chairs.
“Oh, Molly, it was a beautiful wedding,” Camellia sighed, on a hint of more tears. “And you’ve been a beautiful bride. I hope this man of yours has told you that, and tells you that often.”
The bride looked up at that man of hers with blinding joy. “He has. He will.”
“Is that your elbow jabbin’ me in the ribs, Camellia?” Ben grinned. Slipping one arm around her shoulders, he leaned slightly sideways to nuzzle her ear—not yet the father, but ever the lover. “You know you always look beautiful to me, darlin’, whether I say so or not.”
“But, I—but, you—”
“I know. It means more if I say the words.” He glanced around at the others, who were smiling or chuckling sympathetically. “I can always savvy when I’m in the doghouse.”
“Oh, Ben, you don’t—”
“Listen, Cam, I was just thinkin’.” Ben decided to throw a monkey wrench into the works, just to see that charming, slight fluster of hers. “Now that your sister and my new brother-in-law are gonna be movin’ that dadratted big piano into their house—”
“Now, wait a minute,” Paul began to vociferously protest. “I didn’t say—”
“Hush, dear.” Molly touched a very wifely forefinger to his lips, but she smiled disarmingly as she did it. “We already agreed on that, remember?”
“You mean durin’ that conversation when you had me so dizzy with wantin’ you in my—”
“Hush!” Her cheeks blazing poppy red, she dared not send a glance around the table. “Private moment, Paul. Not for pitchers with big ears.”
Silence for just a minute, while the music for a Virginia Reel swirled around and gathered them in, and someone thoughtfully began to light a few lanterns for safety’s sake. At the far edge of the church property, a bonfire had been set burning; wood crackled, bright embers floated up into the air, and autumn fragrance was added to everything else going on.
Then Hannah injected pointedly and somewhat flatly, “About that piano?”
“About that piano,” muttered Paul gloomily. “Gonna have to build an extra room onto my house, just to hold the blasted thing. Sure didn’t k
now, when I took me a wife, she’d come with her own full orchestra.”
“Oh! Yeah, that piano.” Ben picked up the thread of his own interrupted conversation. “So, anyway, Cam, once that monster piece is gone, whatddya say we turn the barn into a stable? Get a couple horses from Abel, buy us a nice surrey. In the long run, financially we’d be smart to do it, and Lord knows it’d be nice to have a rig right here, convenient, ’steada havin’ to hike over to the livery every time, and—well, it just seems right. What’s your opinion?”
“Ben, you have many brilliant ideas. This is one of your better ones. Let’s do it.”
Beaming, he tightened his clasp, then openly, deliberately, spread a palm across her middle. “Well, then.”
Four men, four women, taking their ease during a delightful and satisfying celebration. Three of each holding hands, in the gathering dusk, when a few twilight stars were making an appearance, each occasionally murmuring or responding to the good wishes of a guest who approached. Only the doctor sat separate and apart, only Hannah relaxed in her seat at the end of the table; not a couple, unless they might be considered sparring partners in a boxing ring.
Molly was trying to persuade a reluctant Paul to take her out for a waltz, Ben was checking to ensure that Camellia was not feeling overtired, when Letitia made a move to rise. Solicitous, Reese bent toward her.
“Somethin’ you need, Tish?”
“M’h’m. The air is getting a bit cool, Reese, and I want to fetch my shawl.”
“I’ll go. Whereabouts might I find this thing, and what does it look like?”
She gave him a quick description: dressy black lace, with silky fringe, and a fragile pink rose embroidered at each corner; and its possible location: inside the church, draped across the second pew toward the altar.
It seemed that all activity had moved from the rather stuffy hall to the outdoors, where so much self-made entertainment was going on. Both vestibule and sanctuary showed as full of shadows, with only dim, muted light from the kerosene lamps edging through the windows to ease Reese’s way inside.