Page 18 of A Winter's Wedding

America squeezed her eyes shut and wished for Leo to kiss her. Not just any kiss. A kiss that would bind them together. A kiss that would say all the unsaid things in his heart. She opened her eyes, and the twinkling stars flooded her vision. She looked up at Leo to find his eyes still closed. A small twitch pulled his cheek up on one side, and she watched until he was finished with his rather long wish list.

“The reason I said that this trip was better than what I thought our honeymoon would be, was because I don’t think we would have ever road-tripped like this otherwise. We spent our first night together as a married couple in the most beautiful desert landscape. Climbed mountain passes and forded streams today. I saw a herd of elk which by the way, are way bigger than I thought they were, and I ate dinner with the most incredible, gentle, understanding wife a man could hope for, under the stars in God’s Garden. I made a wish upon a star, like something out of a dream, and I kissed the prettiest girl in the world.”

The last part wasn’t true, but the way his eyes smoldered with fire burned into her and let her know that he was about to make good on the last part of his particular wish.

Brushing her hair back behind her ear with his thumb, his hand came around her face. Leo supported himself on one elbow and half of his body hovered above her. His lips pressed against her exposed neck, just below her ear. Another caress landed beside the first. The night air froze the moisture from his lips like little crystalized tattoos dotting her flesh where he had just been. Tiny gooseflesh prickled up with anticipation across her body and she ached for him to soothe it.

His hand cradled her neck, and he tilted her head backwards slightly. A better angle for him to fit his mouth with hers. The kiss was everything she needed it to be. Pleasure heated her spine and chest as she succumbed to the delicious exhilaration of kissing her husband under the stars.

What was he thinking? What was she thinking? She couldn’t put her thoughts together as his free hand explored her curves under the blanket. A moan escaped her throat, and he broke away only to crash against the spot where the sound had emanated from. She whispered his name and her body squirmed as she yearned for more; more of something she wasn’t entirely knowledgeable about.

No matter what her body was screaming for her to do, she was out of time to find out where her limits might end. Gravel crunched under the weight of an approaching vehicle and the headlamps shone across their faces. A white pickup truck pulled alongside and parked. Breathlessly, Leo chuckled into America’s neck at nearly being caught in a compromising position.

A flashlight beam blinded America and she put a palm up to block the worst of it. “Hey. Turn that thing off.”

“This area is off limits after seven,” a booming voice said from behind the light. “And it’s seven-thirty.”

America sat up and gathered the blanket to her chest. “Sorry, sir. I didn’t realize,” she said and slid off the hood. Her feet landed in the rough crushed stone on the side of the roadway. “We lost track of time. Thank you for reminding us.”

“Kids these days,” the man said, as he rolled up his window, in a tone that was meant to be under his breath but one she heard loud and clear.

Back in their own car, America and Leo giggled and exchanged little kisses and knowing looks all the way to the hotel at the highway entrance. She only hoped the place had a vacancy, and a cold shower.

Chapter11

So much for that winter storm, Carol thought as she looked to the partly sunny skies above her. America and Leo had warned her of the incoming snow, though as she walked the mile or so from her house on Main Street down to The Foundry, she wondered if the forecast had changed.

Carol stepped along the newly built replica of a historic covered bridge; the kind New England is known for having. Though most of the covered bridges had long since fallen into disrepair, this one was solid steel and stone. Only the materials used made it appear much older than it was. She appreciated the effort in making The Foundry hold true to the area’s nostalgia.

When Leo had first said that he was going to cobble together several of the old cabins and houses along the lake shore and create a retreat where people could come and relax, learn, and feel part of something, she had laughed him off. The idea was absurd. First, he was the mayor who saw the town fall to new lows and then he decided to be a hotel manager.

She had to give it to him though, as the black barn came into view, the risk had been worth taking. The resort was coming up on one year in operation, and other than the near catastrophic flooding that tried its best to wipe the place off the map late last spring, the resort was doing quite well. Leo and America had received an investment from an out-of-towner and were able to use the funds to make some timely improvements, like water mitigation.

Sunshine spilled through the glass exterior walls of the resort’s main building and refracted off the crystal chandelier hanging just inside the vaulted structure. The luxurious sight was one of Carol’s favorite renovations that Leo had undertaken at the property. The change that the abandoned lake-side property had undergone in the last year was unbelievable. Even though she had helped however she could during the renovation, the sheer scope of the project had been an ambitious endeavor that the whole town had gotten involved with.

And the guest response had been largely positive, seeing as how the place was always booked up. Today was no different. A dozen cars were parked in the recently paved lot beside the barn; Harbour House, they called it. This week’s retreat guests were scheduled to check out on Friday, leaving room in the staff’s schedule to organize Saturday’s big wedding.

Inside, there was no sign of Edwin, who had said he would meet her there. Carol went to theCucinawhere she hoped to find the chef and get the tasting moving along with or without Edwin’s help. “Alfonso? Are you in here?” She poked her head inside the saloon-style kitchen doors, but the space was deserted.

The Harbour House was the main gathering space for the resort. A large, wide open great room where all the meals and many of the activities could be held. Saturday, the venue would be transformed into a magical garden for the wedding ceremony. America had been very vocal about the aesthetic she wanted. Pink and white would be everywhere.

Above Carol, the afternoon sun played in the crystal chandelier, sending rainbows dancing in all directions, and painting the walls with vibrant colors and geometric shapes. She could have sat there for hours just watching the way the space changed throughout the day, but alas, she had a job to do.

Carol peered through the lobby entrance for any sign of Edwin. “Where are you?” she said and plopped down in an oversized velvet chair by the two-story stone fireplace. Resigned to waiting on a man, or in this case, two men, she picked flaking red polish off her thumbnail. She knew better, it was a terrible habit, but had planned on redoing her manicure later in the week before the wedding.

That’s when she heard the laughter of a man who was late. She stood and turned on her heel toward the back area where the sound echoed down the hallway. With a hand on her hip, which she hoped would forcefully project her displeasure at having had to wait, she eyed Edwin and the chef approaching from the offices. Edwin caught a glimpse and smirked.

“You’re late,” she said.

“Come now, Carol. You’re the late one. We got started, oh I don’t know, fifteen minutes ago or so?” he asked Alfonso.

“Si. Yes. We finish already, the tasting,” Alfonso said in his broken Italian-English and chuckled at himself. “I kid you. Come and see what Alfonso has prepared.”

Carol followed the chef to a table in the back, set up near the exercise room, but away from the other guest areas. The small, square table, likely pulled in from the dining room, had a white cloth and an empty vase sitting at the center. Alfonso reached to pull out her chair, but Edwin intercepted the gesture.

“Thank you, Pa,” she said. Everyone called Edwin, Pa, though she always thought of him as Edwin first. Pa was the callsign he was given when he was in the army. Desert Storm had not been kind to him. He had left Christmas Cove as a young man and returned hardened and weathered, as though he had witnessed more during his time as a soldier than all the time before or since.

Alfonso excused himself, and Carol fidgeted with her skirt under the table as they waited for him to return with the first course. Across from her, Edwin sat, his head tilted, and his eyes squinted at her. His hair was wet, like he’d just taken a shower before the meeting, and he smelled of pine and earth.

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