The Blacksmith's Bride: A Golden Valley Story (The Brides of Birch Creek Book 1)

by Laura D. Bastian

  ***

  Michael hated not knowing what to expect. Though they had sent a few letters back and forth, it felt as if he still didn’t know this woman well enough to actually marry her. She’d accepted his marriage offer on one condition, that they could have a chance to talk before the actual ceremony and that each of them could decide against it if things didn’t feel right when they did meet in person.

  He’d sent her some money to pay for half of the train ticket to Birch Creek Idaho weeks ago and now the day had arrived. Miss Susan Hanson would be here shortly after lunchtime and he would likely find himself married by evening. That was if she found him acceptable. Making the choice to travel all the way across the country was a good sign.

  It had been incredibly awkward trying to convince the preacher that he wasn’t out of his mind with his plan to marry a woman, sight unseen the day she arrived. Eventually, Reverend Morrison had agreed to perform the service if he was sure the young lady was agreeable to it.

  Word had spread that he’d gone and done something no one else had tried in the small town. Most people that had moved here had brought their wives with them. Besides a few teen girls, none of which interested him in the slightest because of their youth, there weren’t any options for a wife. He wanted a woman that could hold her own with the hard work that was required here. Someone he could count on to run a household and one he could eventually raise a family with.

  Michael wasn’t sure what he’d been thinking. He would have to take care of a family. Provide for the needs and wants of a woman. Make sure there was enough food to eat and fabric for clothes, and then once the children came, he’d have to get even more food.

  He had been able to live comfortably by himself with the wages he earned, but his customers weren’t always steady. It came in waves since many people were able to do some of the basic things on their own. Or make do without his services.

  He’d managed to talk to some neighbors to make a trade for some chickens of his own instead of buying eggs from them. He had let people know he was interested in getting a cow, or even a goat for milk, but nothing had come of that yet.

  Since no one had been by his shop for a while, he figured it would be a good idea to go back home and make sure everything there was ready for a wife. He hoped she’d be all right with living in the small place. He had planned to build a shed for the animals he hoped to acquire, but things had been too busy at the shop for him to get much done.

  Inside his place, he did a fast clean-up of his things, but before he could change his clothes, he heard the train whistle. Michael hurried to wash his face and brush his hair back before replacing his hat. There wasn’t time to do anything more. The whistle blew again. It was still about a mile out of town, alerting anyone who might be coming to meet the train. Michael swallowed his nerves and left his house so he could get to the station before she did. It was time.

  As he neared the station, he frowned at the sight of everyone that had begun to arrive. Most times, there were only a few people who came to the station now that it was no longer a novelty. If Michael wasn’t mistaken, there was probably more than half of the town who had shown up with obvious delight at the prospect of meeting his new bride.

  He wouldn’t even get a chance to talk to her on his own and would have to be extra careful to school his features in case she turned out to be less than he’d hoped. He didn’t figure any attractive woman that had better options back home would be willing to come out west to marry a stranger. The woman he’d met before that had given him the idea to send for one on his own had been rather plain, but pleasant enough.

  He could hope for the same luck. Though he wasn’t an overly religious man, he’d been raised on the Bible before his parents had passed and he hoped he might somehow be blessed enough to find a help meet, even if she wasn’t a beauty.

  The screech of the engine brakes and the hiss of the steam as the train settled in for a moment drowned out the excited murmurs of the gathered crowd.

  Dozens of bodies pressed forward, trying to get a better view. Michael was taller than most, but the wide brimmed hats on most of the men obscured his view and he had to move to the side to get a glimpse of the train doors. He wasn’t sure which car would be opening so he scanned the length of the train until one door finally opened. The train attendant hopped down and placed a stepping stool for the departing passengers.

  Make that passenger. The only one who stepped out was a tallish woman in a shimmery green dress with a bonnet obscuring her face.

  She turned to the man who had helped her down, then reached for the trunk that was passed out. Her figure was trim, but not overly thin. Good thing. She looked strong and not fragile. She’d need to have strength to get along in Birch Creek. He tried to catch a glimpse of her face, but instead only saw a hint of dark hair and smooth skin along her neck and a bit of her jawline.

  What he saw was promising, but he wished he could see all of her face. She turned around and faced the crowd that had nearly circled her in welcome.

  “Oh my,” her melodious voice said, sounding amused instead of concerned. That boded well for him. If she wasn’t fearful of the townspeople, it would be much easier to develop a relationship with all of them. Something that was incredibly important in case of need.

  Delicate hands reached up and found the ribbon on the bonnet and Michael found himself holding his breath.

  As she removed the covering from her head, Michael sucked in a lung full of air. She was a beauty, and she was his. That was if she’d actually have him. As he stared at her, he barely registered that the crowd of well-wishers had parted and there was an unfettered view of her.

  “I’m looking for a Mr. Michael Clark.” She glanced at the others nearby, but seemed to realize none of them were right.

  She took a step forward and studied him, a beautiful smile gracing her perfect lips. She looked up at the blue sky above and whispered softly, “Thank heavens.”

  Michael blinked a few times, unsure of what she meant, but hoping she found him acceptable as well.

  “I’m Michael Clark.”

  She smiled again and nodded slowly. “I’m Susan Hanson. I believe we have a few things to discuss.”

  Michael couldn’t tear his eyes from her mesmerizing features, but off to the side in his peripheral vision, he was almost certain the rest of the town had gathered to see what all the commotion was about. With the way the woman was taking charge and he’d done nothing more than say his own name, he knew he would be the talk of the town for a long time. He didn’t care. Let them talk. They wouldn’t be the ones that got to marry this woman.

  Michael pulled himself together as much as he could and offered his hand. Then realizing she had some luggage to carry he took a few steps toward it.

  “I’ll take your bags, and we can move to somewhere a little more private in order to talk. My smithy is not far. Will you join me?”

  Susan nodded then took a step toward where he’d pointed. “Thank you.”

  Most of the crowd followed them for a bit, but Michael turned around and shooed them away. “Give us a moment, if you please. Then after we’ve had a chance to talk, you can all make your introductions.”

  “All right, Michael,” his friend Colten said, giving him a look that clearly said “good luck” before he turned around to the crowd. “You heard him folks. Give them a chance to get acquainted before they tie the knot. Hey, maybe we can all head over to Reverend Morrison’s house and get him over to the church.”

  Michael almost wanted to wallop his friend, but instead shook his head in exasperation and focused his attention back on Susan.

  “Please forgive my friend. We don’t get visitors who stay very often,” he said. “Thank you for coming. I’m sure you have some questions.”

  “I do,” Susan said. “And a couple of rules.”

  Michael’s eyes widened in surprise. She was definitely not timid. He had wondered what kind of woman he’d get, but he couldn’t decide if
things would be better or worse than he’d anticipated.

  “What are the rules?”

  Susan took a step inside the open space beneath the shade of his shop. “I’m here to be your wife, but I need some time to come to terms with it and make sure you aren’t going to hurt me or treat me poorly before I actually marry you.” She looked him square in the eyes, not hesitating at all or looking away like he’d seen some women do with their men.

  “I give you my word, I’ll never raise a hand to you.” Michael studied her face, waiting to see if she’d accept that.

  “Thank you.” She nodded then opened her mouth to speak again, but shut it fast and closed her eyes for a moment before looking up at the ceiling as if asking for help.

  There had to be something more she wanted to ask, and Michael hoped it wouldn’t be impossible to agree to. Having her here in person, standing right in front of him made him realize how very much he wanted her to marry him.

  “Is there more?” Michael asked.

  Susan nodded but didn’t immediately answer.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Susan was glad that none of the townsfolk were nearby. She needed to let him know what her terms were and definitely didn’t need an audience. Besides, telling a man that she’d marry him but didn’t want to join him in his bed right away would take a little finesse.

  She took a deep breath and decided to just blurt it out.

  “The next thing I need to tell you is that I need time before I agree to… to share your bed.” She closed her eyes briefly, wishing she knew how to say it in a way that wouldn’t offend him. Daring a quick look back at him she . was relieved to see he wasn’t upset.

  “Sounds reasonable to me. How long you thinking?”

  “I think at least a week, maybe more?”

  Michael tilted his head to the side as if considering her request. He nodded once then spoke. “Anything else?”

  Susan allowed herself to relax a little. “I know we sent a few letters and then a quick telegram, but I don’t know much about you. Do you have any family? I see you’ve got your blacksmith shop. I believe you said you had a home. Is it nearby, or are there living quarters behind that wall?”

  “No family. They’ve all passed on.My house is a quarter mile away. It’s small and I’m sure nothing you’re used to back east, but it has what’s needed.”

  Susan smiled. “Thank you. Though I’m sorry about your family.”

  “What about you?” Michael asked. “What about your family?”

  “Gone too,” she said. “I’ve been living with an uncle since my parents passed, and he recently passed as well.”

  “How old are you, if you don’t mind my asking?”

  Susan smiled at him. He was pretty sweet in his own way and didn’t seem overly concerned with marrying a stranger. She just hoped he wouldn’t be bothered by her advanced age. “Twenty-five.”

  He nodded again as if he preferred not to do much talking. “Twenty-six.”

  They stood there for a few minutes, neither one speaking as they studied the other. At least he wasn’t worried about her being too old to marry.

  Susan contemplated what she was truly doing. She knew her uncle wanted to make sure she was cared for, but his monthly stipend would have been enough to take care of anything she needed if he’d have allowed it to go on until she’d gotten her parents’ inheritance.

  Despite what Uncle Charles thought, insisting she get married wasn’t necessary. She would have been happy to have lived on a small income for years until she reached thirty. Then she could have gone about doing good for the poorer class in New York.

  Yet as she talked with Michael, a feeling of peace washed over her. He was nothing like any of the men she’d known back home. He was humble and kind and well liked from what she could tell in these few minutes with him. He was also incredibly handsome, and tall. Of course, the biggest factor going for him was that he didn’t seemed bothered by her outgoing and what some people termed outspoken tendencies.

  “How long did you say you have lived here?” Susan asked.

  “About twelve years,” Started out as an apprentice then when Thomas moved on to California in search of gold, I took over the smithy on my own four years ago.”

  “It appears that the people here like you. That helps to ease my concerns about marrying some horrid man.” She shifted on her feet, trying to decide how forthright to be with him. Might as well put it all out there at once. “I think you should know most people back home thought I was rather odd. I didn’t fit in with their ideas of decorum and acceptable behavior. Although I won’t be purposely contrary, I’m sure there will be times you’ll question my behaviors. Do you think you can handle that?”

  “Birch Creek needs strong willed people here. No one would survive the west without grit. As long as you aren’t planning on making a spectacle of me, and are willing to talk and listen to suggestions and follow some rules that will keep you safe out here, I’m sure we can get along just fine.”

  Susan smiled and reached for his hand. “That’s good to hear. I won’t be outright defying you, but I surely won’t be submissive and meek all the time.”

  “Then if you’re agreeable, I suppose we should go find the preacher.” Michael looked back toward where the train station was as if looking for the townspeople.

  Susan met Michael’s eyes.The peace and hope she saw in them gave her the courage to move forward.

  “I am,” she said taking a step back out into the street then paused for him.

  “Wait a moment, please.” Michael turned back to his shop and moved toward where he had some shelves. He sorted through a few small wooden boxes then after finding whatever he was looking for returned to her and held something in his hand.

  Susan leaned forward to see what he offered her and then raised her hand to her chest. “That is so sweet, Michael. Thank you.”

  “I hope it fits. If not, I can do some fixing later.”

  She held her hand up and allowed him to place a small ring on her finger. It was only a little bit too large, and was nothing like what might be found back east in the finer jewelry shops, but he had made her a wedding ring. That in itself meant so much more than anything she could have hoped for.

  ***

  Though Michael had always felt a deep gratitude for all the people of Birch Creek, right now, he wished they would all just disappear. He hadn’t even thought about how involved the whole town would want to be in this wedding. He had really only considered the fact that he’d need to have the preacher and a witness to make the marriage official. It seemed as if every single person who wasn’t out on their homesteads in the valley was packed inside their small church building.

  He’d just intended to go say his vows in front of the preacher and then be on his way. Even back to his shop after showing Susan the house so she could unpack her trunk and make herself comfortable in what would be her new home.

  Instead, all the women had whisked her away to do some kind of preparation while the men took him to the local store. Each of them pitched in a few coins to help him get the needed commodities to stock his larder with the things his new wife would need to cook him up some proper meals.

  While Mrs. Howard, the store owner’s wife tallied up the goods and wrapped a few things in some paper, her son returned in the front door after bringing the wagon around.

  Colten grinned at Michael then shook his head. “Never figured you’d end up like this.”

  “Like what?” Michael asked.

  “Preparing for a wife. Why didn’t you tell me what you were doing?”

  Michael shrugged. “Wasn’t sure it would actually work.” He picked up one of the sacks of flour that had been so generously purchased and took a step to the door.

  “She’s pretty,” Colten said.

  Michael stopped mid-step and Colten hurried to continue. “Not that I’m looking at your wife. Or bride. Just wanted to let you know I thought you did good for yourself.”

 
Michael couldn’t agree more, but there was more to a woman than the way she looked on the outside. He hoped she would be just as beautiful on the inside. He’d seen a few of the men in town who seemed browbeaten by a nagging wife and some had even mentioned a time or two they envied his bachelor existence. Though he doubted they really felt that way. Even if they did, Michael was not that kind of man. He wanted someone in his life to love.

  Michael thought of Susan and the little he really knew of her. Their few minutes of talking had left him a little unsure of what to think. She didn’t seem like the kind of woman he was familiar with. Not that he knew a lot of women. Most were married and a lot older than him, or way too young to even consider.

  She was confident and obviously intelligent, but there was something different about her he just couldn’t put his finger on. Good thing he would have time to get to know her. His entire life actually. He just hoped they could become familiar and comfortable with each other quickly. He wanted the stability of a family.

  The town was his, and he really did love and appreciate them, but a man needed a woman. Someone to pledge his life to and protect and care for. Someone to make life worth living.

  Colten motioned to the front doors. “I’m going to take this load to your house. How about you come with me and get changed for your wedding? Momma told me I’d better make sure you get presentable, because she said there ain’t no way she’ll let you marry someone as refined as Miss Susan in your work clothes.”

  Michael looked down at the soot stained clothes he wore and realized Mrs. Howard had a point. He climbed up onto the buckboard next to Colten and looked at the Howard’s home that was built right next to their store front. Somewhere inside, Susan was being cared for, or pestered, by the women of the town in preparation of the wedding.

  He just hoped they weren’t questioning her too much. He wanted a chance to get to know his wife before everyone else did.