Page 61 of The Autumn Wife
His mouth claimed hers, swallowing another rippling laugh.
She shoved her fingers into his hair, mussing tendrils free of the leather tie that held it back, not caring that whistles and gasps and throaty laughter erupted around them. They weremarried.They would make love tonight, and she could barely wait and she didn’t care who knew.
Her heart lifted like a song.
“Enough of that—for now,” Marie announced, tugging on Cecile’s arm. “We’re all starving. It’s time to feast!”
With a cheer, the crowd gathered around the trestle table. Marie led Cecile to the head, while Sister Martha pulled Theo away to the foot. Cecile dug in her heels to follow him, but Marie held her fast.
“You arenotsitting together.” Marie raised her brows like Cecile had seen her do while scolding her toddler son. “If you do, you’ll kiss and kiss, and you won’t eat a bite. You’ll need strength for the evening to come, Ceci, and it’s my job to see you’re properly fed.”
This is what it is to be loved.
Overflowing with feeling, Cecile squeezed her friend’s hand and slipped into a hard-back chair draped in a garland of red, gold, and russet leaves. Everyone else kicked a leg over the benches on either side of the trestle table. Wine had already been poured in tankards.
Etienne set the porcupine in the protection of the nearby woods and then jogged toward an empty seat on her left. Rather than sitting as the rest of the crowd already had, he seized his tankard and raised it.
“A toast,” Etienne said, in a too-manly voice. “For my mother on her wedding day. And for the man she has chosen to marry.” He swung his tankard toward the other end of the table. “The man for whom, from this day forward, I will call Father.”
Delighted gasps rose up amid the crowd as Cecile struggled not to drown in an ocean of happy tears. She blinked and blinked, but Etienne’s flushed and flexing features went blurry in her sight.
She reached for his hand. “I’m so—”Hiccup“I’m so proud of you, Etienne.”
Etienne’s tankard hit the table. He swooped down for a hug, burying his face in her hair. She wrapped her arms around him—they didn’t quite reach anymore. She told herself it was the awkward angle, because she was seated and he bent over her. But she knew better. A thousand memories flooded through her.
Etienne as a boy sitting on her lap, smelling of mud and grass.
Etienne chasing grasshoppers in a field of hay, the sunlight shining on his head.
Etienne’s high-pitched voice when he called her Mom for the first time.
Though her heart squeezed at thoughts of the boy now gone, she felt doors opening inside her, a wave of acceptance for something that had always been inevitable. Her sweet child had grown into a strong and honest man.
“Son.”
Theo’s voice, from just above them.
Etienne peeled away from her and loomed up, his fathomless black eyes uncertain as he looked at Theo.
Theo opened his arms.
A spasm crumpled Etienne’s features, right before her son stepped into the embrace. Gasps and sniffs and sobs echoed up and down the table, followed by applause.
“Blessings to all of you,” Marie said from mid-table as the intensity of the moment shimmered. “Sister Martha, if you could lead the prayer?”
Theo headed back to the other end of the table, clearing his throat more than once before sitting.
Etienne swung a leg over the bench, swiping his eyes as a grin lit his face anew.
How bright fate shone down upon them all—Cecile could hardly believe her good fortune.
After the blessing, Marie cried out, “Let’s eat!” and Cecile startled as the person to her right slipped a slice of venison onto her plate.
“Red meat for you,” Genny said, winking. “There’s more of that coming.”
Cecile slid a hand over Genny’s deerskin sleeve and squeezed. They’d managed to talk a little at the tavern, but Cecile had wasted too much time scolding Genny for taking such a great risk by going into the fort courtroom.
Genny had just shrugged and joined in the tavern singing.
