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Davis came from the direction of the creek, his hair wet and slicked back. He wore a recently laundered white shirt, with black wool pants. Instead of the string tie he wore to the other party, he had a fresh red bandana around his neck. Again Emma got that funny feeling in her stomach when she looked at her handsome husband. He smiled at her, and she placed her hand on her stomach, sure the baby moving around caused the fluttering.
“You look very pretty tonight, Mrs. Cooper.” Davis reached out and slid his hand behind her neck, drawing her to him. Gently he leaned down and kissed her. He moved his palm forward and cupped her face. Tilting her head, he eased his tongue into her mouth and deepened the kiss. Sliding her hands up over his shoulder, Emma played with the wet, curly hair tickling the collar of his shirt. She sighed and moved closer.
“You sure you want to go to this party, darlin’?” Davis whispered as he nibbled on the sensitive skin below her ear. “I can thin
k of other things we can do to keep ourselves occupied tonight.” His heavy lidded eyes told her exactly what he had in mind.
“We’ll be missed. People will come looking for us, to see if we’re all right.” She shook her head.
He sighed. “All right.” His strong hands kneaded her shoulders. “We’ll continue this later.” After a quick wink, he lifted the dish that was their offering for the party, and giving her his arm, and they joined the other families ambling toward the area outside the supply store roped off for the party.
Emma sat on a tree stump and watched the antics of the mountain men. It was obvious they were drunk. Their wives didn’t seem to mind, and just smiled when one of them grabbed a woman from the wagon train and started to dance her around. Everyone laughed, but Emma became more uncomfortable by the minute. Her tension only increased when another mountain man crossed the dance area and headed directly for her. Stumbling slightly in front of her, he reached down, and pulled her up. “Come on, little lady, let’s dance.”
His breath was enough to kill a moose, and he was another man who had no relationship with soap and water. He may have been drunk and stumbling, but he had an iron grip on Emma. After only about a minute of this torture, she heard a voice over her shoulder. “Let the lady go, friend, I’m cutting in.” Davis reached between them to take Emma’s hands. The mountain man was not giving up his prize, however.
“Get lost, buddy, the lady’s dancing with me.” He turned her so his back was to Davis.
“Once more, friend, I’m cutting in.” Davis grabbed the man’s arm.
“And I said I ain’t letting go. Get lost.”
Davis spun him around. The drunk released Emma, and took a blow to the jaw. Reeling back, he stumbled, and after another punch directly to his oversized middle, fell to his knees. Not waiting to see if he could even get up, Davis took Emma by the arm and put distance between them and her overzealous admirer. She glanced over her shoulder to see the man holding his jaw and shaking his head, as he looked at Davis’s back in confusion.
“Thank you for saving me. These men are a little bit scary.”
“They’re drunk. Just stay next to me, and in a little while we’ll head back to the wagon.” He regarded her carefully. “Are you all right? Did he hurt you?” His jaw worked as his gaze roamed over her face and body.
“I’m fine. But I could use something to drink. I’m thirsty.”
“I saw some punch over there.” He waved in the general direction of the supply store.
“I’ll be right back.”
“No you don’t.” He snatched her hand. “We’ll go together.” He took her by the elbow, and they strolled past where one of the mountain men helped the drunk to his feet.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Emma dipped a cup into one of several punch bowls and gulped the refreshing liquid, and then dipped in again and downed a second one.
“You really were thirsty. Let’s sit awhile so you can catch your breath.”
They settled on a bench not too far from the dance area. “I wonder why the mountain men’s wives don’t seem to mind them drinking so much and dancing with other women?” Emma’s propped up her chin with her fist, her elbow resting on her knee, as she watched the goings-on.
Davis grinned. “You see the size of those men? I’m sure they do whatever it is they want to do. Most Ute women tend to be easy on their men. Besides, not everyone has an exemplary husband such as myself.”
She slanted him a look and smirked. “That punch was really good. Could you get me another glass?”
Davis returned with a cup that Emma made quick use of. After about fifteen minutes her face turned a rosy red, and she giggled every time she glanced in his direction. As the fiddles began a slow number, she stood and held out her hand. “Let’s dance.” Humming the song, she dragged him onto the makeshift dance floor.
“Are you sure about this, honey?” Davis asked as she turned into his arms. “You look a little flushed.”
“I’m fine, I want to dance.” She pulled him close and Davis got a whiff of her breath and grinned.
“Darlin’, I think we got your punch out of the wrong bowl.”
She peered at him, her brows furrowed. “What do you mean?”
“The mountain men’s bowl of punch had liquor in it. In other words, dear wife, I think you’re a little tipsy.”
