Page 40 of My Darling Clementine

In a sudden vision already seared in her memory, she saw Kizzy doing the same thing. Last night she wore a prim and proper nightgown over her amazing figure, looking like an angel with sensuous lips and enormous blue eyes. Another vision replaced it as she wondered what she might look like tonight, wearing her wedding night present and brushing that long, lustrous hair. Clem wanted to feel it glide along her skin.

Pulling herself together, she began the process of removing her clothing. Another memory rose of standing by Kizzy’s bed and watching her look at Clem, secrets and all.

She accepted it without question and actually admired the way I look. I saw it in her eyes, she wants me. Me.

She removed her watch, wound it, and set it on the bed with her wedding suit.

Meeting Kizzy was luckier than striking gold, and even more improbable. She’s another woman who prefers women, and she recognized me as one at first glance. No one else ever has.

Placing her folded vest and shirt in a bag, she unwound layers of linen, breathing deep. She watched her naked breasts rise and fall, considering them for the first time in years as anything more than something to hide. Kizzy’s admiring gaze last night promised delights Clem had never allowed herself.

She added her shoes, socks, and pants to the bag.

Kizzy is an impressive young woman chasing after her dream. She saw an opportunity, grabbed it, and took a terrible chance inviting a stranger to her room, but was prepared to defend herself with a pistol. If she’s half this resilient on the trail, this crossing will be far easier than the first… and a lot more fun.

Clem winked at her reflection in the mirror, seeing the excitement in her own eyes.

She’s so spunky, funny, and beautiful, all the more dazzling because she doesn’t seem to see it. Kizzy’s bare breasts appeared in her mind’s eye, making her salivate. Tonight I’ll see the rest of her. Clem’s whole body bristled with anticipation as she skimmed off her johnson underwear.

Now down to skin, she eased into the warm water. Using the soap and brush laid out for her, she scrubbed every inch of herself, and washed her thick hair twice, rinsing with the jug of water set beside the tub. She relaxed in the warmth while wondering at Kizzy’s words.

“You arouse me as no man ever has… I didn’t know anyone like you existed… You fascinate me.”

Clem didn’t know why, but she felt the same way about Kizzy. They met less than twenty-four hours earlier, yet it felt like she’d known her forever. Fascinated, she wanted to know more, to learn everything about this special woman.

Standing in front of the mirror, Clem examined her sturdy, thick-waisted frame. With practiced ease, she wrapped a fresh length of clean linen, purchased at Abbie Blair’s House of Fashion that morning, around her breasts, pulling it tight to mash them flat against her chest. Leaving herself just enough room to breathe, she tucked in the linen and pulled on a pressed white shirt.

She pulled on her double underwear, a brand new johnson secured between them with strong stitches. She tugged a third pair over them and tucked the leather sausage into place. Clem pulled on tailored black linen slacks she’d worn only once before, at her father’s memorial service three weeks earlier. Thank God I have a happier reason to wear them again.

What would Dad think of this? He wanted me to get married.

She combed her blond curls into place, hiding her small ears and emphasizing the line of her firm jaw. I have Dad’s chin and mouth, so my eyes must be Mother’s. Wide-set, they stared back at her from the mirror as she tucked her shirt in and reached for the brocade vest. Wetting a finger, she smoothed ruffled heavy brows above her straight nose, enhancing her masculine look.

After attaching her watch, Clem opened the small white box she’d been after in her room. From it she removed two gold cufflinks and slipped a thin gold wedding band on her pinkie finger. She sat on the bed to pull on fresh socks and a pair of black, pointy-toed shoes polished to a high shine, They pinched her toes, but the extra two inches making her over six feet tall were worth it. She stood to examine herself in the mirror as she shrugged on the coat matching her slacks.

I look good. That Boston tailor knew what he was doing. Turning from side to side, she examined the line of her profile as much as the cut of her clothes. Clem smiled at her reflection and reached for the finishing touch, a top hat she unfolded with a sharp slap of her hand, then perched at a jaunty angle on her head. She hoped Kizzy liked the way she looked as much as she did.

Securing the bag holding her clothing with a lock, Clem tucked the key in a pocket, carried it down the hall, and left it outside the door of her room, enjoying the sound of feminine laughter coming from within.

With a bit of a swagger in her strut, she strolled downstairs to the bar, noting admiring glances and accepting compliments on her outfit. After buying a round for one and all, she invited everyone to attend her imminent nuptials in the parlor.

“Thanks for the business,” cried Mr. Bates, as he scrambled to accommodate the sudden surge of orders. “We’ll settle up later,” he said, already calculating.

“He paid ahead, Frank.” Mrs. Bates walked into the bar, dressed in a beautiful dress of green silk, which set off her eyes, now sparkling. “Haven’t had a chance to tell you with all the excitement, but Mr. Dennison gave me,” she pulled her husband’s shoulder down and whispered in his ear.

“That much?” he said, impressed.

“Oh, this is shaping up to be quite the occasion.” Mrs. Bates glowed, in her element. “I got Teresa Olsen and her girl to help out. They’re in the kitchen decorating a wedding cake and cooking up a special dinner, cutting up fruit, and baking pretty pastries. You make sure the drinks keep flowing.” She laughed. “There’s a barrel of wine, two of beer, and a couple of cases of champagne in the back he had delivered here as well.”

“You heard my smart, beautiful wife,” Mr. Bates said to his barkeep, nodding at the men crowding around the bar. “Fill ‘em up.”

Mrs. Bates took Clem by the arm. “Your breeding shows, Mr. Dennison, you look every inch the fine gentleman.” She pulled him toward a table by the window. “You know Judge Winston, of course.”

Clem shook the man’s hand. “I do. Thank you, sir, for performing the ceremony on such short notice.”

“Delighted, delighted,” huffed the bald-headed old coot. He lifted his second glass of whiskey in salute. “Congratulations, sir. I hear your bride is a beauty.”

She nodded, and couldn’t help smiling at the reference to the gossip already spreading throughout Independence. Their wedding would be legal, duly recorded, and witnessed by as many citizens as she could round up. “Kizzy is the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen,” she said, leaving it at that.