by Barbara Goss
She read the sincerity in his eyes and sat down beside him.
Sam said, “I woke up to realize some horrible qualities about myself, today.” He kept his head down and traced the tree’s roots with his fingers. “I’ve become a scoundrel of late. I had no right to touch you the way I did, and I plan to do something about it to make it right.”
Fiona tried to say it wasn’t necessary but he cut her off.
“Yes, it is necessary." He paused and then said, "I’m asking you to marry me.”
“What?” she said. Had she heard him right? Now he wanted to marry her. Would she ever figure this man out?
He turned to look at her and took her hand. “I touched you where I shouldn’t have, where I'd guess no one else ever has, so I feel the need to make it right. We should get married.”
Fiona felt her mouth drop in surprise. She was about to refuse him, but then she thought about how much she needed to change her name. This was her golden opportunity. It wasn’t how she'd planned to marry, that’s for sure. They weren’t in love, but maybe that would come later. After all, isn’t that what mail order brides did? They met, married, and then learned to love each other.
“But you really didn’t touch…I mean, you touched higher than…I mean, it was just close to…” Fiona stammered.
“I touched where I shouldn’t have.”
“Are you sure you want to do this?” she asked. “It isn’t necessary. I can forget what happened between us.”
He looked at her and seemed to be carefully studying her face. He reached out and touched her cheek. “I never realized until today how beautiful you are.”
“Thank you, but that's not a good foundation for a marriage,” she said.
“It’s a start. I felt something in that kiss we shared and from it, I know we can learn to love one another. I don’t think it will take long, either. What do you say?”
“What about Abigail?” she asked.
“She’s history. The first thing I did after our kiss was to visit Abby and break off our…um…relationship,” he said.
She looked at him closely to try to detect any remorse, but he seemed to feel relieved by his breakup with Abigail.
“If we marry, I’d expect faithfulness. You couldn’t visit her again,” Fiona said.
“I realize that, and I’m ready to take a vow of faithfulness. I’m ashamed of my behavior, and it took that brief, sweet kiss from you to make me realize just how miserably corrupt I'd become.”
Fiona studied his face. He seemed sincere. She’d also felt a spark of something from his kiss, as brief as it had been. “Yes,” she said. “Let’s do it.” She would become Fiona Jordan, and they’d never find her. Why shouldn't she marry Sam? Sam was handsome, charming, he had land and cattle—she was sure that, in time, she could fall in love with him.
“Great!” Sam exclaimed, standing up and pulling her up with him. “My mother will be ecstatic when she hears the news.”
“Thank you, Lord!” Addie exclaimed when they told her the news. “I’ve been praying so hard for this.” She hugged Fiona. “You two can live here until your house is finished. Sam has it almost ready to move in.” She turned to Sam and said, “What has to be done yet, son?”
“The rooms need to be painted and papered, I need to shellac the floors since I had to let the wood dry out before I could, then all it'll need is some furniture.”
“Do you have enough money for furniture? I can throw some in if you don’t—as a wedding gift,” Addie said.
“No, I have it,” Sam said. “I guess this is what I’ve been saving for these past few years.” He smiled at Fiona. “I want you to come with me tomorrow to pick out some furniture. The mercantile carries furniture now, on the second floor.”
“I’d love to,” Fiona said. She was beginning to get used to the idea of getting married and was even beginning to feel a bit excited.
Martin walked in just then. “What’s all the excitement about?”
“Sam and Fiona are getting married,” Addie related excitedly.
The news seemed to stun Martin. “Really?” He stared at them for several seconds before slapping Sam on the back. “Well, congratulations.”
“If I get the license, how soon can you marry us,” Sam asked.
“Soon? What’s the hurry?” Martin asked.
“Martin,” Addie cut in, “Sam and Fiona were just leaving. They’re going over to take a look at their new home.”
“Yes,” Sam said quickly, “come on, Fiona.”
He led her out of the house, and Fiona knew he did so before Martin could talk them out of marrying because they weren’t in love.
Sam stopped the buggy in front of the log cabin style, two-story home. It was small in comparison to Addie’s home, but to her, it was perfect.
Sam led her though the lovely, oak, front door. When she stepped inside, the smell of fresh wood drifted through the air. There was a small hall in the front and a rack for coats and hats on the wall. They walked straight through to the sitting room with a fireplace, and large double window, overlooking the back of the house. To the right of the entry was a large country kitchen. Fiona knew exactly where she’d put the table and chairs—in the space on the far side, away from the cooking area, in front of a large window, overlooking the front of the house. A back door was located near the cooking area.
“Look, Fiona, I had a water pump put in, so we won’t have to pump our water outdoors like my mother does,” Sam said proudly.
“It’s so perfect, Sam. I love it,” she said. “Did you do this all yourself?”
“I’m tempted to say yes to impress you, but I hired a carpenter to build the house. I did most of the inside work, through,” he said. "Martin helped a bit whenever he could.”
They left the kitchen and walked through the sitting room to a large wooden stairway.
He led her up the stairs to a hallway where she peeked into two rooms she knew would be bedrooms.
“We can add onto the house as our family grows,” Sam said. “There’s plenty of room to expand.”
Fiona blushed. “Do you think we could get two beds, one for each room? I’d like to have my own room until…until we…um…reach that point.”
Sam smiled knowingly. “Of course. My mother has an extra bed in her attic. We’ll just need to buy the large bed for the master bedroom,” he pointed to the larger room, “when we get to that point, it will be our room. And look,” He pointed to a doorway on the far side of the large room. “A closet big enough for all of our clothes and to store things.”
“I love it,” Fiona said, relieved he understood the sleeping arrangements.
As they walked back downstairs he asked, “Is next Saturday too soon?”
“It’ll be fine. No sense in waiting.” Fiona knew that, sooner or later, someone would send a flyer or telegram to the sheriff with her name on it. “The sooner the better.”
The next afternoon, Fiona was sitting on the porch, snapping green beans when Martin came out and sat beside her.
“Are you sure you want to marry Sam?” he asked.
“I am. We’ll be fine.”
“Do you love each other?”
“No, but we’re fond of each other. I know the rest will come, I can feel it,” Fiona said.
“I hope so. I’ll perform the ceremony, of course, but I don’t approve.”
“I know you don’t, but we’ll be fine, you’ll see, Fiona said.
“That’s a pretty large bucket of green beans you have there to snap,” Martin said, smiling. “I love snapping beans. Can I help?”
“Of course.” Fiona moved the bucket closer to Martin. As they worked, she had the feeling he wanted to say more but was unsure of himself as to how to begin.
“Is there something on your mind besides not wanting Sam and I to marry?” Fiona asked.
“It’s not that I don’t want you to marry,” Martin replied quickly, continuing to snap beans. “I'd just feel better if you fell in love first.
Somehow, I get the impression you both have ulterior motives for rushing into this. What is your motive, Fiona? Why do you want to marry before you fall in love?”
Fiona thought about his question and wondered how he’d guessed she had a reason for wanting to marry so quickly. She wasn’t sure if Sam had a hidden reason, but she felt the burden of her own secret and thought about confessing it. Maybe then it wouldn’t bother her so much. There wasn’t a Catholic church in town, so she couldn’t go to confession. Martin was a minister, after all. Maybe it would work the same way.
“If I tell you something I’ve done, would it be the same as if I'd confessed to the priest?” When Martin raised his eyebrows, she continued, “What I mean is: will it be confidential?”
“Absolutely confidential. The protestant Bible says we should confess our sins to another person…it doesn’t specify it has to be a clergy, but we learned at college how to counsel people who come to us with problems. We can’t divulge anything we hear.”
Fiona looked up at him and said quickly, “I need my name changed, and quickly. I do like Sam a lot, though.”
“Can you say why you need to change your name?” he asked.
“I…I might be wanted by the law in Boston.” She could tell that Martin was trying hard not to react to her statement.
“For what, if I might ask,” he said.
“I think I killed someone.”
“Can you tell me how that happened?” he asked.
Fiona saw that while his expression hadn’t been changed by her confession, he had swallowed hard, so she'd known she’d shocked him.
“My employer, Mr. Littlefield, tried to…to…he attacked me one day and was going to have his way with me. I got scared and grabbed the first thing I could find and hit him over the head with it. I was afraid he’d come after me in anger, so I kept on hitting him until he…he stopped moving.” A tear rolled down Fiona’s cheek.
“That would be justifiable murder. You were protecting yourself. It’s possible a jury would acquit you when they heard the story,” he said. “Are you sure he died? Did you take his pulse?”
“No. I just ran as fast as I could and hopped on a train.”
“Rest assured that God has forgiven you, Fiona. I think you should tell Sam this before the wedding, though.”
“I can’t take the chance that Sam’ll change his mind, Martin.”
Martin sighed. “Your secret is safe with me, but I still think you should confide in Sam. If his reasons for marrying you are sincere, he’d still marry you, I know he would.”
“I’ll tell him after we marry,” Fiona said. “Maybe,” she added under her breath.
Fiona and Sam picked out furniture and appliances for their home, and then Sam bought the supplies he needed to ready the house for them to move in. Fiona offered to help with the wallpaper and painting.
The following day was Fiona's first time going out without her cane. Fiona and Addie shopped for her wedding dress, or at least, something fitting that Addie could easily and quickly convert to a wedding dress. They decided on a plain beige dress.
“You won’t recognize this dress when I’m done, Fiona, trust me,” she said. They paid for their purchases and walked to their buggy where they unloaded their packages into the back. Addie waved to someone on the other side of the street.
“Get into the buggy, dear. I want to speak to Myra Fleming. She makes wedding cakes,” Addie said. “I’ll be right back.”
Fiona stepped up onto the buggy’s front seat and waited. Addie and Mrs. Fleming talked for so long, she began to get fidgety. She was about to cough loudly to remind Addie she was waiting, when a voice behind her said, “Well, well, if it isn’t the bride of Sam Jordan.”
She turned toward the voice, surprised to see Sam’s friend, Abby, standing there with her hands on her hips. She was wearing a bright purple outfit with matching feathers on her head.
Not knowing what else to say, Fiona murmured, “Hello.”
“So, you’re marrying Sam,” she said from dark red lips. “Good luck.”
Fiona wasn’t sure what to say, so she kept silent and simply stared at the woman.
“You might have the ring on your finger, but I’ll have him in my bed because I’m sure he’ll return to me before long. He and I have a chemistry, and he’s never been able to stay away from me for long.” She started to walk away, but then turned and said, “As if a naïve woman like you could keep a man who’s used to someone like me. I know how to please Sam.” She walked away and Fiona watched her sashay into the Golden Horseshoe Saloon.
Chapter 8
Sam had been working on the floors and stairs but stepped out onto the small cabin porch to get away from the shellac fumes. Martin rode up the lane and slid off his horse.
“I came to help,” Martin said as he approached.
“Good,” Sam replied. “I just finished the upstairs floors and stairs. You can help me do the sitting room and kitchen.”
“All right,” Martin said. “Can we talk for a minute first?”
“Sure,” Sam said. “What’s up?”
“Are you sure you want to marry Fiona?” Martin asked.
“Of course I’m sure. She’s a lovely woman, and I feel a strong attraction to her—more so each day. Why?”
“I just think a couple should be in love first and marry second, is all,” Martin said. “What if love never comes?”
“I could tell when we kissed there were sparks flying between us. I bet we’ll have a young’un’ running around in no time,” Sam said with a chuckle.
“Have you stopped to wonder why Fiona agreed to marry you so quickly? Maybe you need to get to know one another better. You don’t know a thing about her.” Martin rubbed his temples. “For goodness' sake, you’re marrying a stranger…for life.”
“I want to be done with my previous life, Martin. I don’t want to sneak up the back stairs of the saloon to sin anymore. I want a wife, children, and a happy home.” When Martin opened his mouth to speak, Sam put his hand up. “I don’t want to hear any more. We’re getting married.”
While waiting for her cue to join Sam at the altar, Fiona gazed around the church from her place in the foyer to see two rows of guests awaiting the ceremony, with Addie sitting proudly in the front row smiling from ear to ear. Fiona had no idea who those people were, but she was glad Abigail hadn’t shown up to spoil her day.
Fiona couldn’t believe how the drab, beige dress had been transformed. Addie had sewn hand-crocheted lace around the collar, sleeves, and waist. She lowered the neckline and sewed a white ruffled piece over her chest and down into the V of her bust. Sam had bought her a bouquet of flowers to carry, and Addie had given her a blue bracelet, and loaned her an old pearl necklace, proclaiming Fiona now had something old, something new, something borrowed, and something blue.
At that point, Fiona wasn’t nervous about the ceremony. She was, however, worried about what Abigail—or Abby, as Sam called her—had said about Sam never giving up on her. It would break her heart if she fell in love with him, and he continued to visit with Abby. She'd made up her mind since she'd spoken with Abby that she’d try to keep her heart safe until she knew for sure Sam was capable of being faithful.
Martin appeared at the altar with his opened Bible. He nodded to her, and she began to walk down the center aisle to meet Sam who smiled at her with approval. It appeared he liked the dress, and she was glad.
They repeated their vows, their hands joined. For a few moments during the ceremony, Fiona felt like she wanted to run out of the church and disappear. Was she making a huge mistake? How did she get from disembarking the train in order to relay a message to standing there on the altar getting married? Then Sam rubbed his thumb over the top of her hand. She looked up at him and he gave her a smile that made his eyes twinkle, which calmed her. Maybe, just maybe, things would wind up working out for them.
Afterward, Addie had a meal prepared. She’d invited the people who’d sat in the first t
wo rows at the church to the meal, and when Fiona was finally introduced to them, she found they were a mixture of Addie’s friends and friends of the family. Sam was his usual quiet self, but he pulled her chair out and did all the right things to make her feel cherished, even if she really wasn’t.
When the guests had left and Addie started to clean up the mess, Fiona picked up an apron and offered to help.
“Oh, no you don’t, Mrs. Jordan—Sam has plans for you,” Addie said, taking the apron from her. This is your wedding day, and Sam has your evening all planned. Addie smiled knowingly. “All of my prayers have been answered.”
Sam had the evening planned? She hoped he didn’t expect to consummate the marriage because that wasn't going to happen.
She took his hand when he reached out to her and led her to the waiting buggy. There were two small carpetbags in the buggy. When she saw them, she was curious enough to ask: “Where are we going?”
Sam helped her into the open buggy. “We can’t very well let everyone know this isn’t a regular marriage, now, can we? I’ve rented us a hotel room in Salina. Don’t worry—I’ll honor your wishes. He bent close to her ear and whispered, “I know it won’t be long before we're a real married couple, I can feel it.”
He jumped up, flicked the whip at the horse’s flank, and they were off.
The hotel room was small, plain, and dreary, containing only one double bed, a dresser, a nightstand, and a chaise lounge chair. Fiona looked around for a place to undress.
Sam must have realized what she was looking for and said, “I’ll go down and order our supper while you change. You take the bed and I’ll take the lounge chair.”
“Are you sure?” she asked.
“Positive. When I reserved the room, I specifically asked for one with a cot or something, but I think the chaise is even better.” Sam walked over to it and patted the cushion on the chair. “It looks comfortable.”
