Wedding Bells in Oporto

Feeling more amiable than usual, Jenny sidled up to the shy new rifleman and offered him the cup of wine. "Have some. Gift to the bride and groom from Joe there."

"You're very welcome, miss." Pye said, after he decided it was the ok thing to say. He smiled, said his congratulations to Cotton and then began to inch back even more. He thought he had made himself small enough, when Jenny spoke, standing by his side.

"..Ah." He took the offered mug, his cheeks colouring a bit. "Thank you miss. Though, if it's a gift to them, I can't take it. Its theirs." He nodded and held the mug to Jenny again, embarrassed that he first took it. He felt awkward, not used to a girl's company. It wasn't that he didn't want it, just that he wasn't used to it.

Jenny shrugged and took another sip herself before handing the cup to one of the German lads. "You brought something," she said to Pye. "I saw you with a box. What was it then?"

Cotton grinned as he was relieved of his cup. It allowed him to put his arms around Maggie properly. He chuckled and picked her up, spinning her around. "Well, then, Missis Cotton. How's it feel to be a married woman at last?"

Her eyes looked to the side as she thought about it. "Strange!" she finally answered with a laugh. "You try being Mister Evans and see how it feels! And as Mister Evans," she added, fiddling with the back of her neck, "you'll need this. After all, M.E. stands for Mister Evans too." And she handed him her little golden locket.

"It don't work like that, Missis, an' you know it," Cotton said, accepting her locket back. He looked suddenly shy. "Did you... Did you open it this mornin', at all?"

"Open it? No. Why?" She suddenly wondered if he had lost the lock of her mother's hair. She took it from his hand and opened it eagerly. But no, her mother's hair was still there, pressed under the glass slip. And there was her own little curl that she had given Gabe. But there was a third, tied with blue thread. "What's that?"

He grinned. "You don't know? There's only one person had that locket 'part from you, after all."

She put her hand to her lips as she stared down at the lock of hair. Of course it was his. For some reason it brought tears to her eyes. And the strange thought of some day losing him, and having nothing but the lock of his hair, like her mother's...

"Oh!" was all she could say. She carefully snapped it shut and wrapped her arms tight about his waist.

Her sudden emotion brought a lump to his throat, though he smiled and put his arms around her, holding her close. "Love you, sweeting. My own Maggie."

Jenny shrugged and took another sip herself before handing the cup to one of the German lads. "You brought something," she said to Pye. "I saw you with a box. What was it then?"

"Ah, I did." He dropped his gaze. "Well.. wos' a box." He smiled sheepish. " I mean, that's obvious. It was.." He looked at her, and met his gaze. He did look a bit like a wild animal caught off guard, uncertain, watchful but also just genuinely innocent. "This.., a cake for them. 'Couse they said they didn' have it.. n' it's a big event so...they ought to have it." He finished with a smile.

Jenny smiled at the lad's shyness. "Well go and give it to 'em then! Martha put it over there." She pointed at a spot at the edge of the fountain. A few others had added their little offerings for the celebration - a bottle, a woven blanket, some fruit to share about.

"Go?" He looked at where Jenny was pointing and so that there was indeed a box just where she said it would be. There were other things about it, all the things that would serve Maggie and Gabriel short or longer term.

"Right." He looked at the pair. "I will." He nodded hesitant. "I shouldn't leave a lass without company .. I mean.. you'll have company of course, I..." He frowned. "Pardon miss, I mean no offense in what I say, I'm jus' not best saying things." He smiled hesitantly. "Would you like to come with me to fetch the box?"

She stared and resisted the urge to laugh outright. Instead she gave him a gentle shove. "Just go and get it, and don't be such a goose." Besides, there was music playing, and now she rather wanted to dance.

"Yes, miss." He couldn't protest, when the girl seemed eager to shove him that way, if he would not have gone willingly. "Sorry, miss. Will do." He did not look offended to be called a goose, and he grinned apologetically to be such a handful. "Will do." He repeated and then moved towards his box.

He lifted it carefully and made sure he didn't make anything else fall. He didn't want to be to blame for any of the gifts gone bad. He then turned around. Seeing where the pair of Cottons were, he began in their direction.

Maggie smiled and looked around as someone began playing a jig and people started dancing. Then she saw the determined if bashful face of Rifleman Pye coming their direction and she gave Cotton a nudge.

"'scuse me." Pye said apologetically. "I was.. told that I was....to bring this here, here." He hesitated, lowered his gaze, and studied his box. He saw the lines on it, but no sort of damage. "..This'un is for you two." He said finally and held the box to Maggie, then uncertainly looked at Cotton. Was it better , to be given to the lad, who would more comofortably and easily hold it. "Summat...for.. the special day."

By now Maggie could not stop smiling. Everything and everyone delighted her. "Oh, thank you, Zack! What is it? Can we open it?" She was still clinging to her little bunch of flowers - they were precious now, and she would save them if she could, perhaps press them in her ledger - so she looked up to Cotton with an expectant smile.

"'fcourse you can open it miss. " He chuckled softly. Maggie Cotton asked the silliest things. "is food." He said and waited patiently, still grinning. Well, maybe Maggie had thought it was the box that was the gift? Could be, even those were very useful for storing things! Seeing that Maggie's hands were taken by the lovely bunch of flowers, it would be Cotton who'd take the box. "I dunno if you will like it, but ...is cake." He murmured, more shyly again. Oddly he had been more sure of himself and more comfortable when he was up somewhere, ready to fire at the enemy than merely when social meetings were in order.

Cotton accepted the box - Maggie was holding her little bunch of flowers almost as though they cost the earth - but turned it so that she would be the first one to see its contents as he opened it. He smiled at the other Rifleman. "We'm real glad you come to see us gettin' married," he said, though he still could not quite believe they'd done it and taken that final step.

"I'um glad you let me..was honoured." He said softly, and meant it. They could've said no at any point of time and he'd have respected it and just busied himself with something else. Would it have been his rifle, or just the seeing of the town, or maybe even just remaining in the billet, catching up on some sleep for the past few days. He would not have been intrusive if they would've said no, and he would've accepted it without complaint.

"...am honoured." He corrected, realising that if he had said it in the past tense, it might sound as if he was no longer. He was excited, nervous and hopeful that they would've liked what he'd picked. Of course, there wasn't a great choice, and most was made in the fashion of Portuguese. But it looked as if it were going to taste just fine. The woman had called it an orange cake (one of the traditional Portuguese I think, could pick honey if you want ) and it looked rather pretty. She'd added some fruit and that was all that was needed, really.

Maggie peered into the box. "It's a cake!" she exclaimed, her eyes shining with happy greed. There was no indulgence she loved so much as sweets, probably because her economy usually precluded them, but her limited experience with Portuguese confections was highly favorable. "A cake! Gabe, now we have a wedding cake," she laughed, eyeing the colorful candied fruit on the top. "Zachary Pye, thank you." And on impulse she kissed him on the cheek.

"Well, you don't get a weddin' cake every day. Don't have a weddin' of your own every day, neither," Cotton said, and looked around for somewhere he could put the cake down, where it would be safe. Martha came over to relieve him of the box and he turned to Maggie with a smile.

"Want to dance?" he asked, seeing another Rifleman holding a fiddle and looking at them enquiringly.

Pye coloured at the kiss on his cheek. It was a thanks he hadn't expected and which rendered him speechless. He understood how important a good cake was, or food and so he was glad, to have gotten something like that for the pair.

Maggie Cotton was real nice, and so was Gabriel Cotton, who was a fine teacher as any. He grinned, and nodded to the pair, and then stood out of the way as the newly made husband asked his lovely girl for a dance. They looked happy, and they were. They would be, as days came and went, and to Pye, it seemed that this was something that made the cruel army, sometimes much kinder than it was.

He took a seat, and leaned back. Soon they would have to march, but for the moment it was time to enjoy not doing anything at all, and the music too, if that rifleman knew to do it well.

Maggie nodded and smiled. Being asked to dance made her remember a night not too long ago, just after leaving Lisbon, when Cotton had asked her to dance and she had run away crying. It had only been a couple of weeks ago, but so much had happened to make it feel like months or years.

She had not had many opportunities to dance with Cotton, but she found that she liked it well.