Cutler 05 - Darkest Hour

marriage with an animal passion. I rose and fell with his thrusts, moving from moments of terror to moments of pleasure, and when it ended, when he exploded within me with his hot spasms, I thought my heart would burst open and I would die in bed on my wedding night. A hot flush moved up my neck and made my cheeks feel as if they were on fire.
    "Well, all right," he said. "All right." He rolled over on his back. He had to catch his breath too. "I don't know who your lover was," he said, "but he must have been a virgin too." Then he laughed.
    I wanted to tell him the truth. I wanted to wipe that self-satisfied, conceited smile of his face, but my shame was too great.
    "Anyway," he continued, "now you know why you're a lucky woman." He laughed. "And now you're the new Mrs. Cutler." He closed his eyes. "I think you're right. A little nap is in order. It has been one helluva day."
    In moments he was snoring. I lay there awake for hours, it seemed. The overcast and rainy night sky began to clear. Through the window I saw a star peek out between the thin wisps of clouds trailing behind the thick, dark ones.
    I had survived this ordeal, I thought. I even felt stronger because of it. Perhaps Vera was right; perhaps I could take control of my life and change Bill Cutler enough to tolerate and endure my new existence. I was Mrs. Cutler now and I was on my way to my new home, and from all accounts of it, an impressive and interesting new home at that.
    What logic, what reason did Fate have for denying me the gentle and true love Niles and I would have had together and instead placing me beside this stranger who now lay beside me as my husband, after a marriage sanctified by the church? The minister never asked if we were in love; he only demanded we swear to uphold our vows. What is marriage without love, I wondered, even if a minister performs the ceremony?
    Why, two mockingbirds finding each other through their songs had more reason to be, I thought.
    Back in The Meadows, Vera was probably putting Charlotte to sleep. Charles was finishing whatever chores were left to finish. Little Luther was most likely with him. Emily was locked away in her chambers on her knees muttering some prayer, and Papa was sleeping off his drunken stupor, the land title document still clutched in his big hand.
    And I, I waited for the morning and the journey that lay ahead, full of mystery, full of surprise, for the only promise left to me was the promise of tomorrow.

 
    16
CUTLER'S COVE
     
    The remainder of our journey passed very quickly. After a wonderful breakfast at the Dew Drop Inn, Bill and I quickly gathered our things and started off, Horace and Marion Dobbs wishing us good luck so many times I. was sure they had seen something in my face to urge them to do so. The rain had passed and we did have a beautifully clear day in which to travel. Whether he was just tired from the wedding and our lovemaking or whether he was just settling down into his real self, I wasn't sure, but Bill was much quieter during the rest of our motor trip and much nicer to me. When he did speak, he described Cutler's Cove and told me a little about his family.
    "My father had some fool notion he could farm by the ocean. He acquired a large tract of land, not realizing or caring at the time that we had ocean front, too. He built a fine farmhouse and a barn and brought in some livestock, but it wasn't long before the weather and the land told him in no uncertain terms that he was hell-bent on the wrong vocation.
    "But my mother was resourceful and she began taking in boarders, at first for some extra money.
    "One day, she and my father sat down and talked about it all and decided that they should turn the place into a real hotel. Once they made that decision, it was all downhill. Pop had a dock built so those who wanted to fish could row out a bit. He worked on the grounds, creating gardens and pretty lawns, pathways for nature walks, a pond with benches, gazebos, fountains. He couldn't be a farmer, but he was a helluva gardener.
    "And my mother was a great cook. The combination proved successful and before long, we had an addition built onto the old house. The hotel, Cutler's Cove, has been at near or full capacity ever since. People up North have been spreading the word about us and we have guests from New York, Massachusetts, even as far north as Maine and Canada. They all raved about the food."
    "Who does the cooking now?" I asked.
    "I've had a few cooks since