by Reina Torres
“Things change,” Miles Hampton reassured him.
“And people change,” came Pastor Clement’s addition to the conversation, “it’s the only constant. Or so I’m told.”
“Look at me.”
The three men turned to look at Livingston Quinn because there were very few men alive who would not obey when the mountainous man said to do anything. Besides his advanced size and height, the man carried with him the rough mystique of frontiersmen like Kit Carson and Jedediah Smith.
Dressed that day in a plaid woolen shirt, his fringed jacket laid over his massive arm, he looked as fierce as he was friendly.
Quite a feat for any man.
Gesturing at an empty seat beside Silas, the larger man asked, “May I?”
“Please.” Silas sat back and nodded at the empty space beside him.
Folding his larger form onto the pew, Livingston gave the small group a soft smile.
“When Birdie came into my life, we were much like you and Miss Wigg,” he explained. “Birdie was caught in a storm and stumbled onto my homestead.” He looked at Miles and the corner of his mouth tipped up in a smile. “Fell right down the hill onto my property. Wrecked her little hat too. She was hurt, not anything life threatening, but enough that she had to stay for a bit.”
Miles nodded. “Carolina and I were worried sick, but when Livingstone brought her back to town, we knew she’d been safe and well cared for-”
“But the town didn’t see it that way?” Silas couldn’t help but interject his words.
The men all shared a look before Livingstone spoke again. “Well, yes… and I knew what they were expecting us to do, but when I was honest with myself, I knew I wanted to marry her. She may have fallen into my life by accident, but I knew I wanted to keep her in my life.”
“That,” Pastor Clement cleared his throat, “and your animals would have rebelled if you didn’t marry her and bring her home.”
The man’s words brought a story to mind. Silas had heard some wild tale about a whole flock of chickens attending a wedding. Now, he had a feeling it was true.
“And now,” Livingstone continued, “you know what propriety demands along with the town, but it’s up to you… and your wife to decide what happens after.”
The church door opened and Livingstone stood, almost as if he could see through the back of his head.
Every man in the room stood at the entrance of the two women and Livingstone met them halfway down the aisle.
Silas saw the gentle way that the giant offered his arm to one of the women, thanking the other with a genuine smile before he walked beside his wife, Brigid, to the front of the room.
Silas nodded in greeting as the Pastor’s wife took a place beside her husband and then greeted Brigid with a softly spoken greeting.
He saw the tender way that Livingstone handled his wife and saw their obvious joy.
Would he and Imogene have such a successful union?
He saw the quiet conversation pass between Pastor Clement and his wife and the kiss she pressed to his cheek before she took her seat.
He didn’t need anyone to tell him, but the Pastor gestured to the place beside him and cleared his throat. “Silas? It’s time.”
Pulling in every ounce of his resolve he adjusted his suit and stepped up into his place.
He was about to be married.
Chapter 12
As they moved past the windows of the church, Mrs. Hampton held onto her arm and walked resolutely beside her.
“Don’t be afraid. It may not seem like it, but you have nothing to fear from marriage, and you and Silas get along brilliantly. Give it a chance and you’ll see… this isn’t the end of anything, but the beginning of an adventure with a man I know you can respect and have great affection for.”
Imogene nodded. “I will try.”
“And if you have questions, you know that you can always come to me or Brigid, or Gwen.”
“I will.” Nodding still, Imogene turned the corner to the front of the church. “I only hope that you won’t regret the offer when I appear on your doorstep over and over.”
Mrs. Hampton took hold of her elbow and brought her to a halt just a few feet shy of the door. “I want you to know that while you are hesitant about marrying Mr. Hix, I believe that the two of you would have found yourselves here someday in the future, even without this happening. There is something magical about the way you two complement each other. Promise me that you will make the most of this new journey in your life.”
Imogene couldn’t help but blink at the tears that gathered on her lashes. “Mrs. Hampton, I… I don’t know what to do. If I felt that Mr. Hix felt something more for me than wanting to do right by my honor, I wouldn’t feel as apprehensive as I do. The last thing I would want to do is make him regret his kindness toward me.”
“Oh, my dear,” Mrs. Hampton took hold of her arms and leaned in to press a gentle kiss on her cheek, “you give so much to others, why is it so hard for you to accept it in return?”
She could have said so many things but instead she chose to keep her thoughts to herself. Imogene had to focus on the path before her.
And the man inside the church, ready to put his future on the line for her.
“I’ll try,” she tried to reassure Mrs. Hampton, “for you.”
“No,” Mrs. Hampton shook her head, but gave Imogene a gentle smile, “for yourself.”
Imogene drew in a fortifying breath. “For myself.”
Given the rush of affection welling up from her heart, Imogene impetuously embraced Mrs. Hampton. “Thank you for everything you’ve done for me, Mrs.-”
“You’re to be a married woman today, and you will soon be as dear to me as any of my friends, I hope you’ll call me Carolina.”
“And you’ll,” Imogene had to blink back more tears, “call me Imogene.”
Taking Imogene’s arm, Mrs. Hampton walked her to the front of the church and through the door.
Silas had been to his share of weddings in St. Joseph as a part of his large family and he’d seen any number of gatherings large and small.
But when Imogene stepped into the doorway of the church he was stunned.
He had no idea what to think.
His bride to be was dressed in a gown just a few tones shy of his printing ink.
It gave him pause and more than a bit of worry.
Was she already regretting their union?
He wanted to look to Pastor Clement for some kind of reassurance, but he kept his eyes on Imogene as she walked down the aisle.
With each step he had the opportunity to study her further.
Her expression was gentle, perhaps even peaceful in her mien. There were no hard lines beside her eyes or bracketing the soft curve of her lips.
Was he reading too much into her choice of gown?
After all, it wasn’t as though they’d had much time to prepare.
Why, they’d hardly had any time to be alone at all since they’d been found together after the sudden snow storm. He had to be patient.
He must be patient.
When she moved to the front of the room and stepped up beside him, he turned along with her to face Pastor Clement.
His instinct was to reach for her hand, but he didn’t know how she’d react to the gesture and this was not the time to startle her and possibly up-end the apple cart.
And so, he focused his attention on the pastor and heard the older man speak.
“Dearly beloved, we are gathered together here in the sight of God, and in the face of this company, to join together this Man,” he turned to Silas and nodded, “and this Woman,” he repeated the gesture, smiling at Imogene, “in holy Matrimony; which is commended of Saint Paul to be honorable among all men: and therefore is not by any to be entered into unadvisedly, soberly, and in the fear of God. Into this holy estate these two persons present come now to be joined. If any man can show just cause, why they may not lawfully be joined together, let him now spea
k, or else hereafter forever hold his peace.”
Imogene saw the Pastor turn his head toward the back of the church. She knew exactly who was sitting there. She had, as much as it had galled her, walked right past Appleton Winslet as she’d made her way down the aisle.
If she knew the people in the pews, and she believed she did, all of them had turned to stare at Appleton. This wedding was due to his machinations and as he had put the whole thing in motion, they were waiting for him to say something to further irritate her new and loyal friends.
Turning to look at her groom, Imogene expected to find a look of resignation on his handsome face.
Instead, she saw determination and an odd brightness in his eyes.
Before she could open her mouth to speak to him, he closed the gap and grasped her hand. “Come with me.”
She had no chance to do anything but follow along behind him as he walked them up the aisle and toward the back door.
Imogene saw the shocked expressions of the women, Mrs. Hampton and Mrs. Clement, and even Mr. Hampton’s concern as he took hold of his wife’s hand to keep her in place.
It wasn’t until the bright morning sun momentarily blinded her did Imogene realize that Silas had taken her outside the church. He let go of the door and she saw it swing back toward the frame before daring to look up at him.
“Imogene.”
She heard the tremble in his voice and felt the answering tremor in her heart.
“Do you want to do this?”
His question startled her and the bouquet in her hand quivered above its thick red velvet ribbon.
She wanted to answer him with the word on the tip of her tongue. She wanted to tell him yes, but she worried. Looking up into his eyes she worried her bottom lip between her teeth before she spoke. “Do you?” She gasped in a breath. “This is all my fault, I know. I went to your shop eager for a taste of home, and then I met you and I enjoyed our conversations so much. I should have told you something after we met.” Imogene drew in a breath and looked up into his warm eyes. “Do you remember receiving a few telegraphs from someone named Gene who was interested in working for you?”
“Yes,” his eyes narrowed as he considered her words. A moment later she saw his eyes open in shock. “Gene. Imogene?”
“Yes,” she confessed, “that was me. The man that never showed up to interview. I called myself Gene hoping that you would give me a chance to prove myself, but I couldn’t admit to it when the moment came.
“I just wanted to spend time with you. I wanted to be around you and yes, the printer... the type. I wanted everything that your shop represented. And you seemed to accept me.
“You let me stay. You let me help. And when I made the foolish mistake to go out when I wasn’t familiar with the weather, and trapped myself in the shop with you, you didn’t blame me. You weren’t angry. You didn’t yell.
“You wanted to help me. To save my reputation, even though it meant that your life would forever change.
“The sacrifice that you were willing to make for me was staggering. I thought it was too much to have hoped for in a man. I thought it was too good to be true.” She sucked in a breath and trembled before him. “But I refuse to ruin your life, Silas. If you don’t want to marry me, don’t. I’ll return home and take a job. I can take care of myself, but I couldn’t bear it if I were the reason you dreaded every new day because of my own faults.”
He remained silent for a long moment and every beat of her heart ticked by as if it was a clock trapped within her chest.
She watched in shock as he reached out a hand and touched the end of the velvet ribbon that tied her bouquet together. Imogene watched every little gesture of his in case this was to be their final moments together.
“Did you wear that dress because you were dreading our life together?”
His words were soft, almost a whisper in the cold chill of the winter air and yet she heard a tone that sounded like fear.
Blinking tears from her eyes she shook her head. “I wanted to be the kind of bride you could be proud of,” she swallowed, “that the town would see that I didn’t come to your side in a soft youthful color. I wanted to show them... to show you... that I took this step of my life seriously as the pastor said in his address. I didn’t want you to think that our marriage was the decision of a girl. I wanted you to know that you have become a part of my life as a woman.”
Imogene looked down at the garment and winced.
“You must have thought I dressed for a funeral,” an indrawn gasp drew in the cold air that scratched the tender inside of her throat. “No wonder Mr. Winslet grinned at me as if he was gloating when I walked past him in the church. Oh, how I’ve made a mess of everything.” She stepped forward and laid her hand over his. “Please forgive me for this... for everything.”
She gave his hand a squeeze and turned away.
Imogene didn’t make it more than a step before she felt a hand on her arm, holding her in place... and then turning her back to him.
“You didn’t let me finish, Imogene.”
She paused and replayed the sound of her name in his voice over and over before she chanced the smallest smile. “You said my name.”
He grinned back. “You said mine,” he told her and the moment replayed in her head as well, “so I think it only fair.”
She lowered her gaze to see his hand, pale against the dark charcoal grey of her sleeve. “You were saying.”
She didn’t have to see his face to hear the smile that touched his lips, she heard it in his voice.
“Did you know that the bouquet you’re carrying was from me?”
Imogene looked up, shocked. “It is?”
She saw the earnest expression in his eyes and the smile that touched his lips.
“It’s lovely.”
His smile deepened. “I read the book you left at the shop.”
“The book…” her mind drifted off and then caught his meaning with a soft laugh. “The Meaning of Flowers. I had wondered where I left that.”
He nodded. “Imagine my surprise when I looked through it and found that there was more to it than just flowers.” He stepped closer and gestured at the sprigs of green leaves and waxy berries. “Mistletoe,” he explained, “is more than just something to steal a kiss beneath. It also means to overcome difficulties.” He lifted his eyes to meet her gaze. “I hope that whatever struggles you’ve had… the struggles we have had, will fall behind us. And,” he touched the end of a pine branch, “the pine and spruce are for hope in adversity.”
She matched his soft laughter with her own. “We have seen our share in adversity.” Imogene traced over the needles of the pine with her fingertip, enjoying the soft tickle against her skin. “And we’ve only known each other for a little over a week.”
And then he touched her. Taking her hand in his.
Lifting it until her hand settled against his, her fingertips gently pressed against the palm of his hand.
She looked at the differences between them. The way his hand dwarfed hers. The deep dark stains of ink in his skin that made the few that marred her pale skin.
There were so many things that were different between them.
“And yet, we have the same interests.”
She looked up at him, startled.
“I see it too,” he smiled down at her, “the differences between us.”
“Adversity,” she murmured. “When Madam Wigg took us in,” she felt as if her thoughts were sliding into place much like the tiny metal pieces of type on the chase, “I’m sure she knew the difficulties that would arise from adding each of us to her family, but she loved us.” She heard the finality in her tone. “She had no way of knowing what the future held, how we would grow together or apart, but she brought us together on faith.”
She swallowed and felt emotion welling up within her. It was a powerful surge of warmth and created such a fullness within her that she felt as if she might burst into laughter and tears at the same time.<
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“And perhaps that faith is something that we can build on, Silas. We can grow together. We can choose to-”
He touched his lips to hers, a gentle kiss.
Soft, reverent, and sweet.
His hand tightened around hers, drawing her closer, holding her steady.
And her mind struggled to understand the strange sensations in her heart.
A cleared throat brought her out of her haze and she felt her cheeks flush with tentative joy.
Pastor Clement stood just inside the doorway, his Bible clutched in his hand. “We haven’t reached that part of the ceremony yet, Silas. Do you suppose we might go back inside and finish?”
Imogene could have averted her gaze away from the kind Pastor and Silas as well, but she felt a new burgeoning strength within her heart.
She looked up at Silas and gave him a smile filled with hope. “I’d like to go back inside.”
His smile matched hers and set her heart pounding in her chest.
“So would I.”
“Thank goodness.” Pastor Clement let out an audible sigh of relief. “I was beginning to worry that Mrs. Hampton made that cake and your wedding breakfast for naught. It would have saddened me if we didn’t get to have any of it. It would be a terrible shame.”
Stepping back through the doorway, Pastor Clement held the door open and gestured toward the altar at the front of the room. “After you.”
Together, Imogene’s hand tucked into the crook of his arm, they made their way back up the aisle, ignoring Mr. Winslet’s curious stare.
As they passed by the Quinns, the Hamptons, and Mrs. Clement they turned to give the assembled group a little smile.
The reactions from their friends were as varied as could be expected for such an unusual beginning to a prescribed ceremony, but they made their way back up to the front of the room and Silas helped her up the step so that they could stand before Pastor Clement together, a new lightness to their expressions.
