“That was some supper, wasn’t it?” Oscar asked Lily Fair as they reached the door of their room. When she didn’t say anything, he looked at her. “Somethin’ wrong?”

She shook her head and smiled nervously.

He unlocked the door and pushed it open. “I guess this here’s the part where I pick ya up and carry ya ‘cross the threshold.” He stood looking at her, waiting for her response.

She swallowed hard as her eyes grew round. Good grief, she wasn’t going to bolt down the hall, was she? “I guess so,” she squeaked.

“I don’t hafta if ya don’t want me to,” he said gently. “But I think the notion’s kinda romantic. Personally I’d like to carry ya across.”

Lily’s eyes grew larger. “You would?”

“‘Course I would. Yer my bride and … well, I only plan on doin’ this once.”

She looked away. “So did I. Things didn’t work out that way for me, though. I hope they do for you … I mean, for us.”

Oscar picked up something in her voice – regret? He hoped it wasn’t about him – he’d hate to think she regretted marrying him already. Land sakes, it had only been a few hours! He faced her, palms up in invitation. “May I?”

She studied him a moment, then nodded.

Oscar smiled in relief, bent down and scooped her into his arms. “Mrs. White, I’ll never forget this moment. I hope ya won’t either.” He stepped across the threshold and into the room, but didn’t set her down. Instead he studied her face, her hair, her eyes. She had beautiful eyes with thick dark lashes. He was still working to grasp that she was his. He’d seen beautiful women before – the stage stop was no stranger to them, given how many folks came through. But this lady, his Lily Fair, was his and his alone –

“Oscar?”

He shook himself out of his thoughts. “Gosh, guess I was woolgathering. I reckon ya want me to put ya down, huh?”

She smiled and nodded. “That would be good for starters.”

“For starters?” he repeated. “Then what?”

She shrugged. “It’s getting rather late. I think bed is in order.”

He swallowed hard as a nervous tingle went up his spine. Oh heavens – bed. With her. His wife.

“Oscar?”

“Land sakes, there I go again.”

She giggled. “Why don’t you put me down now?”

“Um, sure.” He set her on her feet and took a step back, as if she would break if he stood too close. “Can I get ya anythin’? Some water, maybe?”

She shook her head and covered a smile.

“What’s so funny?”

“You are.” She clasped her hands in front of her. “I have to admit I was nervous before, but … you seem to be more nervous than I am.”

He stared at her a moment, then threw his head back and laughed. “Tarnation, woman, if ya ain’t perceptive.”

“So I’m right?” she teased.

Oscar stifled his chuckling, went to a nearby chair and sat. “All right, I admit it, I’m plumb nervous. I ain’t never been this nervous in my life. I don’t know how you brides do it.”

She sat in the chair next to his, folded her hands in her lap and stared at them. “Usually the bride is more nervous than the groom.”

“Why’s that? If I’m this nervous, then ya must be going plumb crazy.”

She chuckled. “Most brides are terrified because they’re coming into a marriage with, um … no experience.”

Oscar jerked as if slapped. “Oh yeah. That. But … then ya shouldn’t be nervous. Ya done been married before.”

She nodded in agreement. “True …”

Oscar pulled at his collar. “So at least ya gotta few miles under yer saddle …” As soon as the words were out he grimaced, squeezed his eyes shut and had to force them back open. “I’m sorry, Lily Fair. That was a horrible thing to say. When I get nervous like this I can’t talk right. Can you forgive me?”

She pressed her lips together and nodded, as if she didn’t trust what might come out of her own mouth.

“What I mean is, when a person like yerself’s been married before, certain things won’t be as new as they might be… uh …” He gulped and glanced around the room. “… well, to me.”

That got her attention. Her eyebrows slowly rose as comprehension dawned. “Oh. Oh dear. I think I understand.”

“Really? I mean, do ya really understand?”

She quickly began to fiddle with the worn sleeve of her dress. “Are you saying that you’ve never…er … been with a woman?”

Oscar looked her in the eye. “Yes, ma’am, that’s what I’m sayin’.”

A shudder ran through his new wife – he wasn’t sure how to interpret that. But her next words were clear. “Then might I suggest we take a little time to get to know each other?”

He sighed in relief. “Ya know what, Lily Fair? I like that idea just fine.”

* * *

Lily Fair thanked the Almighty over the next several hours as she and Oscar took the time to get to know each other. That her new husband admitted he had no experience with women actually endeared him to her. He really was more nervous than she, and for good reason.

He’d probably worried she might think less of him for it, which of course was patently absurd. But then again, he was forty-five years of age – for a man to hold onto his purity for that long was unusual. Men were men, after all. Still, he’d spent most of his life somewhat isolated with his family, away from the rest of the world. Because of that, she could believe it.

“Henry’s special,” Oscar was saying, drawing her back into their conversation.

“How so?”

“On account he sees things different from you or me. Most other folks just call him stupid, but he ain’t – he’s just kinda slow. And he says things ‘zactly as he sees them. There’s an innocence in that, ya know?”

“Yes,” she said with a nod. “I think I understand. Can he read and write?”

“Oh sure – it’s just that he’s not as grown-up as the rest of us. And it’s not like he’s thirty years behind, either. Twenty, maybe …”

She took a deep breath and let it out slowly, her brow creased in thought. “I knew someone like that once – Violet Margrave. She was the daughter of a plantation owner. Her parents kept her at home when the family was invited to parties and other social gatherings. They hosted events at their plantation too, of course, but one rarely saw her. I was never sure if she stayed in her room by choice, or her parents kept her there when company was in the house.”

“That’s wrong,” Oscar said, his voice deeper. “Just wrong.”

“I agree. But there are those who don’t know how to properly handle someone who is …” She waved a hand in the air, looking for the right word. “… different from them. But I’m sure you don’t treat Henry any different than you treat your younger brother Anson, do you?”

“‘Course not. I look after both my brothers. And any man who’d harm either one of them … he’ll be sorry.”

She noted the flash of anger in his eyes and wondered what happened in the past to give him such a look. Should she ask?

She didn’t have to. “Once some men came through, outlaws, and tried to steal our horses by tellin’ Henry they bought them from Ma. Henry may be slow, but he ain’t that slow. He chased one of them out of the barn with a pitchfork. Lucky for Henry the man wasn’t wearin’ a gun at the time – I guess he thought he needn’t bother.” Oscar chuckled at the recollection. “Then Anson came along, grabbed another pitchfork, and did more than just chase one.”

“Oh my goodness, what happened?” she asked, a hand on her heart.

“He stabbed that fella right in the seat, and a few other places. I’m sure that scoundrel wasn’t able to ride a horse for a month.”

“But if they were outlaws, what did they do? Did they leave, or cause you trouble?”

“Oh, they tried to cause trouble, all right. And the rest of them were wearing their guns. I had to knock a couple of their heads together, and Anson clobbered another with one of Ma’s favorite chairs. She was purty sore at Anson for that.”

Lily covered her mouth to stifle a giggle. “Oh dear!”

Oscar nodded as his face took on a far-off look. “Then Henry took this bullwhip one of the stagecoach drivers gave him the year before. He cracked that thing and split one of them outlaws’ faces wide open, starting right here.” He pointed to a spot over his right eye. “All the way down to here,” he added as his finger traveled to the right corner of his mouth.

At this point Lily’s own mouth hung open, her eyes popped wide. “What did the outlaws do?”

Oscar rolled his eyes. “The darn fool Henry whipped tried to shoot him. But he had his right hand over his wounded eye, tryin’ to unholster his gun on his left hip with his left hand. He got himself all kinds of tangled up and fell right over, his gun went off and he shot one of his partners in the leg. That fella tried to pull his gun while he was stumblin’ ‘round, wound up shootin’ another one of their gang. Well, I figgered I’d better put a stop to it before they all killed each other …”

Ladylike or not, Lily burst out laughing. “Oh my goodness, that’s terrible! Not that you put a stop to it, but that they kept shooting each other on pure accident.”

Oscar smiled and nodded. “Yep. And all ‘cause Henry wasn’t ‘bout to listen to no hogwash.”

“I can’t wait to meet your brothers and your mother.”

“I cain’t wait for them to meet you neither. I gotta say, I’m excited – Ma’s gonna bust a gut when she sees ya.”

“Because you’re finally married?”

“No,” he said. “She knew I’d get hitched eventually. It’s ‘cause yer so beautiful.”

Lily quickly sobered. She unconsciously reached a hand up to her cheek and let it drift down her neck to her waist. “The Good Book says beauty is fleeting.”

“It does say that. But that don’t mean I cain’t enjoy it while it’s here.”

She smiled. Oscar White was a big man, powerfully built, used to hard work. True, he wasn’t much to look at – his hair was thick, dark and unruly, with streaks of silver. His eyebrows were also dark and thick and … well, joined, giving him the appearance of having only one. His voice was deep and probably scary when he was angry. In short, he could be a force to be reckoned with.

But he was gentle and deferential, and acted like a gentleman. He spoke well, albeit in a country drawl that betrayed a lack of formal education. (Not a surprise; where he grew up, they didn’t even have a one-room schoolhouse, let alone tutors like she’d enjoyed.) He was obviously intelligent, and certainly not lazy. She liked him. She just hoped that after the next few days, he liked her as much.

“What’re ya thinkin’ ‘bout, Lily Fair?” he asked softly.

She yawned in response. “Oh, pardon me. My goodness, it must be late.”

“That it is. We’re leavin’ tomorrow. Maybe we oughta go to the mercantile first thing in the mornin’ and see if ya need anythin’. Might be a long time before we get back to town.”

She looked at him as a chill went up her spine. Would he want to exercise his husbandly rights now, or leave her be? “We should get ready for bed.”

“Yep. I reckon so.” He met her gaze and smiled. “There’ll be plenty of time to talk on the way home. That suit ya, Lily Fair?”

She let out her breath, not realizing she been holding it. He was telling her he’d give her – and himself – more time. “Yes, Oscar, I’d like that just fine.”

* * *

The next morning the newly married couple got up, dressed and prepared for the long journey home. Lily Fair washed her face, put up her hair and followed Oscar downstairs for breakfast.

Mrs. Upton was just as chatty as the day before, and presented them with a basket of food for the trip. “I hope it’s enough.”

“I’m sure it will be, Mrs. Upton,” Lily said. And she was – the cook had to use both hands to keep it aloft.

“Oh, honey, call me Sally. There’s no need to be formal.”

“All right, Sally.” Lily took the basket, and managed to keep it from pulling her to the floor. “Thank you so much.”

Sally glanced at Oscar and Mr. Van Cleet, who stood talking on the other side of the dining room. “I never thought I’d see the day when a woman landed Oscar White. You’re very lucky.”

Lily smiled. People kept telling her that, and she was beginning to understand why. “Thank you.”

Sally sighed. “There was a time I fancied Oscar myself. But it never would’ve worked. We’d have fought like nobody’s business.”

Lily was shocked. “Fought? But why?”

“Two cooks like Oscar and me in the same kitchen? Oh no, no, no.”

Lily laughed, instinctively knowing what the woman meant. “Too much competition.”

“You said it. Every cook has their own ideas about things. Now best you run along. The stage will be here soon, and I heard Oscar mention he wanted to take you down to Dunnigan’s for a few things.”

Lily nodded and strolled over to her new husband. Oscar turned to her as she approached. “Ready?”

She nodded and held up the basket, with an effort. “It’s from Sally.”

Oscar took one look at it and smiled. “Looks heavy – here, let me take that.” He took the basket and lifted it up and down a few times. “Yep, Sally packed this, all right. There’s probably enough food in here for an army.”

Mr. Van Cleet laughed. “That’s our Sally. Now the two of you have a good trip home and give your ma our best. We’ll see you next time we go to Oregon City.”

“Do you go to Oregon City often?” Lily asked.

“Not as often as we used to – we’re getting up in years, you know. But we try to make it once a year. Best of luck to you both.” He gave them a parting smile, turned and headed for the hotel’s front counter. Lily watched him go with the sinking feeling that all the vestiges of civilization were going with him.

Oscar straightened and offered her his arm. “Well, Mrs. White, shall we?”

Lily smiled and pushed the dark thoughts aside. This was the first time she’d seen Oscar with that look on his face, as if offering his arm was one of the proudest moments of his life. Perhaps it was. She slid her arm through his and let him escort her out of the hotel.

When they reached Dunnigan’s Mercantile, the stage was already parked in front. Seeing it made her realize how much she was looking forward to the trip. Oscar handed their basket to Willie, who put it inside the coach and gave them a big smile, showing his missing front teeth. “We’ll head out in ‘bout fifteen minutes, folks,” he said, then went to tend the horses, while Oscar hurried them inside.

Now that Lily saw the mercantile’s interior, she wished she’d come in earlier. There were ready-made clothes, bolts of fabric, tools, books, hair ribbons, cooking utensils, pots and pans, boots, shoes and all sorts of other goods that she hadn’t seen since leaving Denver. Even though Dunnigan’s couldn’t match the inventory of the bigger general stores she was used to, it had a good variety. And it was the only decent mercantile for miles around, or so she was told. “Do you travel to Oregon City at all?”

Oscar shook his head. “Not unless we have to. Clear Creek is closer for supplies.”

She frowned. That answered that question – Clear Creek was as good as it would get as far as civilization. But the people were nice, at least those she’d met so far. Then a thought occurred that hadn’t before. “Oscar?”

“Yeah?”

She absently fingered a pretty green ribbon. “What happens if one of you gets hurt? There’s not a doctor around, is there?”

“No, we mostly do our own doctorin’. Pa was a doctor.”

She stopped fiddling with the ribbon and looked at him. “He was?”

“Sure. And he and Ma taught me and my brothers.” He put a large hand on her shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. “That and faith in the good Lord has served us fine all these years, Lily Fair. Don’t worry, we’ll take good care of ya.”

Lily’s heart warmed at his words, and she smiled and turned back to the ribbon. She’d survive this yet.