CHAPTER 12
A PROPOSAL
Ella Mae stared at John, her mouth dropping open when she realized he had removed the bandana from his face before he put voice to his proposal.
“Did my father…?” She paused, her eyes widening in wonder. “Oh, John,” she breathed, her gaze darting about in search of her parents. She found them standing in a corner, watching her as if they, too, were waiting for her response. “Are you quite sure?”
John gave a start. “Ella Mae Montgomery, I haven’t been so sure about anything in my entire life,” he replied. “I would have asked before I left, but?—”
“Yes. Yes, I will marry you,” she said, grinning in delight. “I cannot believe this is happening on the night of my come-out.”
He grinned, the dimple appearing at the base of his cheek. “Until Mr. Whitcomb paid me a visit to inform me of my… inheritance, I didn’t think I could ask you,” he explained. “At least, not yet. But as the new owner of Galena Stable, I think I can afford to keep you in a manner to which you’ve?—”
“I don’t require the same accommodations as my mother,” she interrupted. “Not that my father had to be the one to provide them.”
John furrowed his brows. “I plan to spoil you, Ella Mae.”
She grinned, stood on tiptoes, and gave him a quick peck on his cheek. “I might allow it,” she said, grinning in delight. “Oh, if only we could wed tonight,” she breathed. “We have witnesses, and my parents are here,” she added, gazing up at him as tears collected in the corners of her eyes. “We’re both dressed in such elegant finery.”
John stared down at her, finally blinking twice before he glanced about the ballroom. “There must be a minister around here somewhere,” he murmured. “You are certainly dressed for a wedding.” He held out one of his hands. “I have a ring I can give you.” He pulled it from his pinkie.
Ella Mae giggled before her eyes widened at seeing the Presbyterian minister approaching them from near to where her parents were standing. “Hello, Reverend Jenkins,” she said.
“This is rather…unusual, but I suppose we can see to the formalities in a day or two,” the minister said as he pulled a small book from his pocket. He nodded to where her parents stood. “Your father has already given permission for you to wed, I take it?” he asked.
“He has,” John stated.
Ella Mae inhaled softly. “He has?”
“I have,” Robert affirmed. He and her mother had joined them to stand before the minister.
Removing her lace mask, Ella Mae handed it to her mother while John removed the one from his good eye. The two turned to face the minister. Behind him, those left in the ballroom, wearing costumes and watching in wonder, paid witness to their wedding.
When Reverend Jenkins’ asked if anyone objected to the union, there was silence. Not even ameowmet his query, so the man proceeded with reciting the marriage rites in a simple ceremony.
With a murmured “With this ring I wed thee” and a pair of “I will”s, the minister’s declaration that they were man and wife had most in the ballroom applauding.
Meowscould be heard from somewhere outside the ballroom, which had most laughing but her mother grimacing in dismay.
“Champagne for all,” Robert Montgomery called out. The room erupted in shouts of joy.
For the next hour, the orchestra continued to play, and except for the next dance, which Ella Mae spent with her father, John claimed all the rest of the dances until the clock struck midnight.
Emma approached Ella Mae when it was apparent the last dance of the evening was about to begin. Tears pricked the corners of her eyes. “There’s nothing else I can tell you that I haven’t already said,” she whispered. “Trust him. Your father certainly does,” she added before she pulled her daughter into an embrace. “I’ll pay a call on you in a day or two, Mrs. O’Connor.”
Ella Mae gasped softly. “Mother,” she breathed. Before she could say more, Emma and Robert were headed for the exit.
A moment later, a distant howling had the rest of the ball goers rushing for the exit. John and Ella Mae grinned and watched until everyone else had departed before they made their way down the stairs and to the front desk of the hotel.
“You room is ready, Mr. O’Connor,” the clerk stated, handing him a key. “Your luggage has already been delivered.”
Ella Mae glanced up at him in surprise. “Luggage?” she repeated, sure her new husband was blushing.
“I might have made some arrangements in advance,” he hedged, offering his arm. “With your father, and the reverend, and the hotel,” he added.
Inhaling softly, Ella Mae stared at him. “What if I hadn’t agreed to wed you this evening?”
He chuckled softly and lifted a shoulder. “I would have courted you until you did agree,” he stated.
