by Lisa Prysock
Jenny hung her apron up. “I’m glad to hear it’s not pneumonia or the consumption, or something more serious.”
“Yes, that makes three of us. Thank you for checking on her, doctor,” Ella replied as she placed the last dinner plate on a shelf in her kitchen cupboards. “This explains why Minnie hasn’t seemed like her usual cheerful self lately. It’s just not like her. I’ll be sure she takes this medicine. Two teaspoons, twice per day...”
Zane nodded. “That’s right, and what you’ve told me makes sense. When folks don’t feel well, they often feel irritable. You might also try some honey, ginger, and thyme in her tea. They have properties which naturally soothe the throat.”
“Thank you, Dr. Beckham. We have all of those items on hand.” Ella reached for a composition notebook and a pencil she kept handy in the kitchen. “I’ll write all of these things down so I don’t forget what to do. You two go take your walk so you have time for a lovely rest before your wedding day. Off with the both of you.” Ella shooed them out of the kitchen with a pleasant smile.
Soon they were walking hand in hand through the orchard again, and before long, Zane invited her to sit with him again on the bench. He took her hand in his again, and she turned to face him.
“Are you happy?” he asked. “Nervous? Anything I can do to help?”
She bit her lip, wishing she could tell him more about her writing. Instead, she hesitated again, and her thoughts and emotions skipped about like one big jumble inside. Some part of her wished her sisters and parents were going to be there, but the fleeting thought was always replaced with wondering if she’d forgotten something else for the ceremony, or wondering when the time would be right to discuss her writing with him. “I...uh...I think I’m happy. Everything seems to be well in hand.”
His nod told her he agreed. “I want to make a promise to you before we exchange our formal vows. I don’t know about you, but I usually don’t remember words when there’s a lot of excitement going on.”
She smiled and couldn’t help but giggle. This, she understood. “I don’t either. My nerves get the better of me sometimes.”
He drew her hand to his lips and kissed it. “Jenny Lindford, I promise to love and cherish you all of my days. I just want you to know that deep in your heart.”
“Zane Beckham, I promise to love and cherish you all of my days,” she said, meaning every word of it. There, they’d made their declarations before God and each other. They both sighed and relaxed a little, the tension draining away. These were words of big promises they’d exchanged, and Jenny hoped they’d grow into them just as Lottie had said. She prayed the doctor would be able to love her, all of her, once he knew all of her.
“I’m so thankful I won’t be alone anymore. I’ve been a bachelor for a long time,” he remarked, still holding her hand.
“You certainly have,” she agreed, another chuckle escaping her lips.
“That’s all about to change. I’m sure we’ll have some compromises to make along the way, and patterns to change.”
“Speaking of patterns to changes, you won’t be upset if I prefer we don’t have meals with General Custer and Leo Tolstoy at the table anymore, do you?”
He raised an eyebrow. “I had no idea it bothered you.”
She bit her lip again, choosing her words carefully. “I do enjoy them, Zane. I wouldn’t mind if they had tea with us once in a while, but I think having animals at the meal table is not a good habit for bringing up a family or entertaining.”
He smiled and chuckled. “I see your point. Consider it done.”
“Thank you, my love.” If he had any disappointment, he kept it hidden from her. She was sure as a bachelor it had been a comfort to him over the years, but they were approaching a new time in their lives. Best to make this small change known now. Why couldn’t she find her tongue to tell him about her writing? Instead, she said, “There’s so much we have to learn about each other still, so many things we haven’t had a chance to tell each other...so much more I want to tell you...” This was a good start in the right direction.
He nodded. “I’ve been feeling the same way. Let’s not worry about it. There will be plenty of time for all of that. There’s only so much one can put into letters and a whirlwind courtship.” Standing up and drawing her to her feet with him, he yawned. “It’s time for me to head home. I’m tired. I hope you don’t mind if I get going. It’s been a busy week.”
“N-no,” she replied, surprised and yet relieved their afternoon was coming to an end so abruptly when she’d been on the verge of divulging her heart about her writing to him. “I understand.”
When they reached the hitching post where he’d tethered his mares and the buggy, he leaned down and gave her a parting kiss on the cheek, holding her for a moment. “I guess the next time we see each other will be on our wedding day in the conservatory.”
She smiled hesitantly in his arms, fiddling with his Sunday tie, wishing for the courage to spit out what was on her heart. He had said they would come to know more about each other in time. He seemed to understand their predicament. “I guess it will be. I’ll see you then.”
He squeezed her hand comfortingly and then released her from his arms enfolding her loosely in his embrace. “See you then, my beautiful bride. Get some rest.” He climbed up into the buggy and picked up the leather reins.
“I will,” she promised.
Then he drove away, the two bay mares swishing their shiny black tails, happy not to be waiting on their master. She turned, climbing onto the porch, watching him for a while as he steered the team onto the dirt road leading toward town. After one more day, she’d be Mrs. Zane Beckham. Like it or not, he’d have to accept that she was a writer, and an outspoken one at that.
Why she couldn’t just blurt it out, she didn’t understand. For some reason his presence made her clam up. Maybe it was that he had such impressive credentials, and that she was still getting to know him. Whatever it was, they’d soon have to get past this discussion. Surely she couldn’t put it off much longer.
Chapter 12
“I don’t ask you to love me always like this, but I ask you to remember somewhere inside of me there will always be the person
I am tonight.”—F. Scott Fitzgerald.
MONDAY MORNING SEEMED to arrive and pass like a blink. Jenny wrestled with herself all day, taking some time to write her thoughts down in her journal after breakfast. She chewed on the end of her pen as she looked down at the farmstead through the window framed by crisp, white curtains trimmed in violet. They rustled whenever a breeze carried fresh air into the upstairs bedroom.
Dear Lord,
It’s hard to believe I will be a married woman tomorrow afternoon. I hope I am ready, and Zane is most certainly a fine catch for a husband. I find myself enamored with him more and more each day. He is a fine looking man, and we are quite drawn to each other. Any woman would be honored to have him. He and I shall lead a most exciting life together, not bound by financial hardships as most couples. I am still so overcome with amazement at all he has shown me about his life. He is such a unique, intelligent, experienced man. I can hardly wait to learn more about him. I look forward to each day with him, and wonder what our future will hold. We both hope we are making the right decision since we do not know each other as well as many others who enter into the custom of marriage. How could this be wrong when everything seems so right? He is kind, thoughtful, loving, and responsible. He is a man of means and position, who comes from a people of considerable wealth and education. He faithfully attends church, he is not argumentative, and he is a perfect gentleman. He sends me flowers every day, and this morning, more have arrived. He wants us to visit our parents, and to do more traveling when we finish decorating our home. I am deeply touched that he wishes for me to consider it mine.
His mansion, our mansion, takes my breath away, as well as his adorable menagerie. We have come to a suitable understanding about General Custer and Leo Tolstoy, but I still ha
ven’t found the right time to tell him about my writing. Of course, he didn’t tell me about his menagerie before my arrival, so I guess we’ve both had our secrets.
Thinking back to my discussion with Charlotte Brooks (everyone calls her Lottie), she said she told Captain Brooks about her feelings for Ryan Hill at some point, but not in the beginning. Perhaps this is a woman’s instinct, to hold some things back that our men may not be ready to hear. I suppose the direction in which the conversation went with Lottie stemmed partly from my mixed feelings about Zane and becoming a mail-order bride in an arranged marriage. One moment I seem to be confident it is exactly what I should do. The next, I am filled with anxiousness. Maybe this is what they call it the jitters, but it does require some bravery, faith, hope, and courage to place one’s entire life into the hands of a husband. Another part of the direction in which the discussion went stemmed from not being able to tell my new friend about the concerns and fear stirring in my heart about everything. Yet, she seemed to know all about how complex this feels.
Is this nagging about it in my soul your way of telling me I should not keep any secrets such as the magnitude of this one from my husband? Or is it a knowing that I should wait until we are more acquainted with each other and the time is right to reveal it?
I suppose there have been many opportunities in which I should have mentioned it, but this sort of thing is not easily understood by our society. Men seem to disagree about it, and even women do not agree about it.
I fear it is too late to make amends for this, but I will pray on it some more today, and perhaps seek counsel from someone who might best know what I should do. Please allow Your blessings of joy and peace to unfold upon us as we enter into the sacred bonds of holy matrimony.
With all of my love,
Jenny
She returned her pen to the pen holder with the inkwell and placed another blotting sheet on the journal. Now to write a short letter to her friend in Kentucky, Laura Clay, and then one to her sister, Bianca. Josiah had said he’d take them into town and mail them.
Two letters and three cups of tea later, she found herself seated before Ella at her desk in the library with another cup of tea in hand. The agency proprietress didn’t have a cup of tea in her hand, but rather it sat to one side of her desk on a matching saucer as she held an old newspaper article instead.
Jenny waited, quietly sipping the tea while Ella finished reading the featured article she’d asked her to skim. A few times she nodded as she read it, and then she smiled, not once, but twice. She outright laughed once, and then smiled again. Then she placed the article aside and picked up her cup of tea. She sipped some of it, and then looked at her.
“It’s a very persuasive, well-written article from some time ago. I love that it makes me laugh. I find no fault in it whatsoever. It’s compelling, it demands action, and it’s a light in our darkness. Moreover, I find it refreshing. Do you agree with it?” Ella asked, removing her reading spectacles.
“I wrote it.” Jenny braced herself.
Ella’s mouth dropped open. “You are Harriett Harper?”
She nodded. “Yes, that’s my pen name.”
“Simply amazing! I have a famous suffragette writer here in our midst. How absolutely wonderful! I personally believe these reforms are long overdue,” Ella stated.
“I cannot agree with you more, but the fact is, not everyone else agrees with us.” Jenny sighed, sipped some of her tea, and returned her cup to the saucer she held.
“I have long admired your work. I usually never miss one of Harriett’s columns,” Ella confessed. “In fact, I’m looking forward to reading the one that comes out in this evening’s edition, but haven’t had a chance to read it yet.”
“Really?” Jenny asked, a smile curving her lips. She too, was looking forward to the next publication.
The agency owner nodded. “Have you told Zane, I mean, that you’re Harriett Harper?”
Jenny shook her head. “No, but I’ve tried. I just haven’t been able to bring myself to it yet. The timing hasn’t been right. Something always seems to hinder it.”
“And that’s why you’re here telling me this now. You’re wondering how he might react when he finds this out. Am I correct?” Ella’s raised brow waited for her reply.
“Yes,” Jenny answered. “I am.”
“I have no reason to believe Zane wouldn’t be proud of you. He is a very progressive fellow. Normally, as one of this agency’s brides, I’d tell you honesty is best. Frankly speaking though, some men are funny about the idea of women having the vote. In fact, they don’t want women to have any rights whatsoever. I find it revolting. As you wrote in this article, it is primitive thinking on their part.” Ella sighed. “And I really have no way of knowing one way or the other which side of this issue Zane is on. If you’d disclosed this information to me a long while ago, I could have fielded this for you, but I can also understand why you didn’t share it. Women’s rights, well let’s just say, this is a highly sensitive topic, even in these modern times in which we live.”
Jenny nodded. “What do you think I should do?”
“That’s hard to say. Have you tried to tell him? Do you have any idea of where he stands on this issue?”
“Each time I tried to bring it up, my tongue got all twisted and I could hardly speak, or something happened taking away the opportunity...or the timing wasn’t right.” Jenny sighed. “I was hoping you would know how he feels on this subject.”
“I wish I did know. Well,” Ella drew in a deep breath, “the way I see it, you can tell him now, and he might walk away. You can tell him later, and he still might walk away. He will probably be at least a little disappointed that you didn’t trust him enough to tell him about this before the marriage, and he might possibly be angry. You can take your chances by telling him later and muddle through it after you’re married. I think Zane is a reasonable man, and whatever you ultimately decide, he’ll respect your decision, perhaps with a little coaxing. In fact, I don’t know if I could even tell you to apologize for not telling him up front the way some men and even women are about this issue. A few women don’t think they deserve the vote. They underestimate themselves, and there are others who think it is not their God-given role to have the same kind of power as a man, as if having the right to vote equates them with being some kind of usurper over men. I find these views to be nothing but narrow-minded rubbish.”
Jenny nodded. “So you do see my dilemma. I’m not merely imagining it?”
“Oh no, you’re not imagining it. There are many people who do not want to see women have any rights at all,” Ella admitted. She drummed her fingers softly on her desk as she appeared to consider the matter. “Your concerns about telling Zane are justifiable, but he does need to know at some point—and the sooner the better—or you could have a great deal of difficulty down the road.”
“Do you think I should go to him later today or this evening, given the fact he is likely busy with the arrangements? I’ve thought about taking a horseback ride. I usually ride every day when I’m in Kentucky, and I’ve been missing it, which brings me to another matter we haven’t been able to discuss.”
“It does?” Another eyebrow lifted on Ella’s face. She appeared to be dismayed that there might be another problem. “I mean, what matter is that?”
“Pa promised to ship my horse, Horatio, by train after we are wed.” Jenny sighed. There was still so much they had to learn about each other. She found herself rather discouraged about it.
Ella sighed with relief and placed a hand over her heart. “Horatio sounds like the name for a beautiful stallion, and I’m certain this won’t be a matter of difficulty. You haven’t had a chance to see his stables yet, have you?”
Jenny shook her head. “We still have so much to learn about each other.”
Ella gave her a heartwarming, sympathetic look. “You poor dear, suffering under all of this weight. You’ve probably got a slight case of the jitters, which is perfe
ctly understandable. Lots of my brides have had it, and even those who are getting married after long courtships. Getting to know each other will be half the fun, and I’m sure Dr. Zane Beckham is going to turn out to be the most understanding husband. However, regarding his stables and willingness to take on extra animals into his care, you can be assured he has both the room in his stables as well as the means to care for a dozen more horses.”
“I certainly hope so.” Shifting in the leather chair, she smoothed her yellow and blue calico dress. “I’ve been meaning to mention it, but there is only so much one can share in a week, and some things aren’t meant for a letter...and I’m very attached to Horatio.”
The agency proprietress nodded. “You are quite right, my dear. There’s only so much one can explain by mail. Some things must be discovered and revealed in person.”
“I’m sure it’s why Zane didn’t tell me about his menagerie, or this zoo, or whatever he wishes to call it...or General Custer and Leo Tolstoy...in his correspondence.” Jenny sipped more of her tea. “I adore them now that I’ve met them, but you know, it was a bit of a shock.”
Ella nodded. “Well, I confess I may have advised him to be a little cautious in sharing about the chimp and the parrot until you could meet them in person for yourself. I didn’t want you to think he was eccentric. He just loves animals. The truth is, until you arrived, I didn’t know he had a complete menagerie filled with all kinds of critters. This is a well-kept secret from most of us in Pelican Rapids. I was concerned the chimp and the parrot might not go over well with you. I hope you can forgive me, because now I see that he withheld the extent of his animals until you arrived. I do wish he’d have told me about this zoo, as he calls it. I would have probably encouraged him to tell you since this is going to be tremendous news in our small town, and I imagine it will play a central role in your life with him. We’ve never had anything of this kind in Pelican Rapids.”
