Doc grinned toward the charismatic deputy and then addressed Pearl. “You see, I had originally obtained a half acre plot—at an amazingly good price—on Levee Street, right on the river. The land had a little rise to it, and my wife and I felt it would offer exquisite views of the magnificent steamboats plying the river. We began building, but just as the outer shell was finished, the rains began.” He shook his head with a self-deprecating chuckle. “Well, needless to say, the river rose and we found out in a hurry why our plot of land had been so cheap.”
“Oh no!” Pearl and Livvy chorused.
The older man nodded, his expression one of hard-won wisdom. “Once the water receded, the workmen repaired what the flood had damaged, and then they built a sort of levee, three feet tall, around the perimeter of the land. All of the locals assured me that as long as they had been residents of Brownville, the water had never risen that high and we would be safe. So, we built, and for several years we were high and dry. We enjoyed our home. The house had an upper veranda then, and often we took our meals out there so we could watch the never-ending river activity.”
“It sounds enchanting,” Pearl commented.
“That it was.” Doc took a drink of his coffee as he reminisced. “A few close calls did happen with some water sneaking in the main floor, but we survived those. However…then came July of ’77,” he hesitated, obviously remembering the date well. “As a result of the encroaching Missouri, Florence and I were forced to move out of our fine residence on the levee for the duration of the high water—that was when we decided we’d had enough. So, I hired workmen to tear down the house and rebuild it here, brick by brick—plenty far enough away from that darned old, pesky river,” he chuckled.
“Brick by brick?” Pearl exclaimed. “That’s amazing!”
Dwight certainly agreed. “From the outside, it looks as if it was always here.”
“Yes, the workmen did a fine job. Cost a pretty penny though. I wish I’d had the smarts to build here in the first place,” the doctor laughed along with the others.
Dwight reached for his cup of coffee, sipping with the lip tilted just so as to allow his gaze to surreptitiously take in the enchanting young woman sitting to his right. She was smiling and giggling along with his sisters at something else Doc Reeves had said. However, Dwight hadn’t registered the remark as he was too busy focusing all of his concentration on perusing his wife’s creamy complexion, long, dark eyelashes, and silky dark hair. He found her profile most attractive.
Still wearing the charming yellow dress from earlier, he noticed again the appealing style in which she wore her hair, with its twisted braids gracing her head. Just then, she reached up and swept the long mass of waves cascading down her back to settle over her right shoulder. That afforded him a clear view of her slender neck, smooth jaw, and delicate ears.
I can’t believe this sweet, soft-spoken girl is my wife. A wife that will want me to walk away in a few short months. Calling himself a few choice names, he silently mused, Dwight, you idiot. This was one decision you didn’t think through!
Just then, Mary turned her head and like two magnets sliding into place, their gazes converged and held. He felt the power of those bright sapphires shoot down his body all the way to his toes. Sparklers seemed to crackle around his jaw as he marveled at the effect the simple action had triggered.
A few heartbeats went by, and then her lips turned up at the corners with just a hint of a shy smile.
Mary drew in a shaky breath as her eyes stayed locked with Dwight’s…she couldn’t seem to disengage their connection. All the while, she wondered what he was thinking as his eyes held hers, his coffee cup hiding the bottom portion of his face. What was left for her to actually see was his wavy, brown hair swept back off his smooth forehead, and the intense expression in those honey brown eyes. But what an expression! He looked almost…enraptured. That was a new word she had learned just the previous week in her daily, private lessons with Pauline and she couldn’t help but think it described the situation perfectly—especially since she was feeling the same way as she stared back at her husband. She couldn’t help a shy smile.
Husband…oh my heavens…he’s only been here a day and already he’s got me all but melting at his feet. How will I survive six more months of being with him every day, pretending to be a loving wife to him, only to have him tip his hat and board the train to who-knows-where once the baby comes? Because sure as shootin’, as Papa used to say, he’ll leave, get a divorce, and move on. After all, no college-educated man would want to be tied to someone like me…an uneducated girl with no place to call home…
A shudder rippled through her as an image of that debilitating moment in the future—Dwight climbing the steps of a train bound for parts unknown—flashed in her mind’s eye. She saw herself standing on the platform, tears slipping down her face, as she held her baby in her arms. She saw him turn at the head of the steps and look back at her, a tiny bit of regret and pity registering on his face. As the train begins to move, he raises one hand…Goodbye Mary…take care…
Her heart began to pound intolerably as panic set in at the mere
