Emma's Journey

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. 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.