by Lily Reynard
As she marveled at the unlikely prospect of Larkin having found any wedding dress at all in a rough-and-tumble place like Twin Forks, much less one that could have been featured in a Boston Brahmin’s ceremony, he had told her about encountering Abigail Brody and Emmaline shopping at the general store.
When he had mentioned that he was trying to find a suitable length of fabric for Sarah’s wedding gown, Abby had immediately offered to loan her own wedding dress, which had been sewn for her the previous autumn by a prominent dressmaker in Butte.
In another stroke of fortune, Abby and Sarah both wore the same shoe size, so Abby had loaned her the shoes to match the gown.
Sarah couldn’t believe that Walt and Larkin had thought of everything.
Upon arriving at the Kottinger house, she had found Emma and Abby waiting for her, along with an exquisite, high-collared white wedding dress made from expensive satin, with a pleated bodice over draped skirts trimmed with lace and set with seed pearls, and matching shoes.
She had given Emma the knitted baby blanket, finished in the nick of time, and then thanked Abigail profusely for loaning her the gorgeous dress.
Now, Emma finished tightening the last of the corset strings.
“How’s that?” she asked.
Sarah began fastening the line of delicate pearl buttons that closed the front of the wedding dress’s bodice. To her relief, it was a perfect fit now, with no stretching or gaping.
“Perfect,” she reported, a bit breathless now from the additional tightening around her chest.
She hardly recognized the woman in the mirror. Her dyed brown hair, now braided and pinned into an elegant chignon with curls framing her face, was the least of the changes. She looked as radiantly happy as she felt.
She couldn’t believe that she was about to marry the two extraordinary men that she’d fallen in love with and that she would get to spend the rest of her life with them.
“So, are you ready to get married?” Emma asked her, smiling.
“I’ve never been readier,” Sarah assured her with heartfelt sincerity. “I have a feeling that this is going to be the happiest day of my life.”
* * *
The sun was shining in a sky filled with fluffy white clouds on this beautiful May day as Sarah, Beth, Abby, and Emmaline crossed the parsonage’s garden, heading for the large wooden church next door.
When she entered the church, Sarah halted in shock, her fingers tightening around the bouquet of pink and white roses cut from Emma’s bushes.
All of the pew-ends had been hung with ribbons, and the altar was surrounded by vases filled with wildflowers and roses that must have been gathered from every garden in town.
To her astonishment, the pews were crowded with men—and the town’s few women—all clad in their Sunday best. She recognized a few faces from the dance at the Hotel Bede, but most of the people seated in the pews were strangers.
It felt like one of those dreams where she found herself surrounded by strangers and realized that she had come to the wrong place at the wrong time.
“Emma, who are all these people?” she whispered.
But it was Abby who answered.
“Larkin and Walt told Jim and Dan, and they told everyone else in town, I guess.” She dimpled. “Everyone loves a wedding in this place! You should have seen mine last August—it was standing room only in here!”
The organist began playing a wedding march, and the joyful, triumphant notes filled the crowded church and echoed from the rafters.
Sarah looked at the front of the church and saw a beaming Reverend Kottinger, Walt, and Larkin waiting at the altar for her.
Her two bridegrooms both looked nervous, but they were smiling as they watched Sarah’s attendants escort her down the church’s long center aisle.
She came to stand at Walt’s side. For the purposes of the actual marriage license, Walt would be her legal husband, with Larkin as best man and one of the official witnesses.
Both men looked strikingly handsome in their dark suits. As Walt took her hand, lacing his fingers through hers, she once again wondered at her good fortune.
The organist finished playing, and the church fell silent.
Smiling, Reverend Kottinger opened his book. He began by addressing the assembled congregation. “I want to welcome all of you here today to witness and celebrate this joyous occasion, as we prepare to join in marriage Mr. Walter Edwards and Miss Sarah Franklin.”
Then his warm gaze fell on Walt and Sarah’s joined hands.
"Walt and Sarah, do you both come here freely and of your own will?”
Sarah nodded. “Yes,” she managed, her throat tight with sudden shyness.
“Yes, sir.” Walt squeezed her hand briefly.
“Walter Edwards, will you have this woman to be your wife, to live together in holy marriage?” asked Reverend Kottinger. “Will you love her, comfort her, honor, and keep her in sickness and in health, and forsaking all others, be faithful to her as long as you both shall live?"
Walt turned to her, his blue eyes shining with deep emotions. “I will,” he said huskily.
Then it was Sarah’s turn.
“Sarah Franklin, will you have this man to be your husband, to live together in holy marriage? Will you love him, comfort him, honor him, and keep him in sickness and in health, and forsaking all others, be faithful to him as long as you both shall live?”
Sarah gazed at Walt, smiling, then looked at Larkin, silently including him as she said, “I will.”
“Then, by the authority invested in me by God and the Territory of Montana, I pronounce you husband and wife.”
Reverend Kottinger grinned, and Sarah realized that he must have been an extremely handsome man in his younger years. “Walt, you may kiss your bride.”
Walt didn’t hesitate. As members of the congregation whooped and whistled and shouted encouragement, he drew her into his arms and bent his head.
Then the double doors at the rear of the church flew open with a bang.
Two hulking men dressed in rumpled suits and wearing dusty bowler hats stood framed in the doorway.
"Sarah Franklin! Found you, poppet!" one of the men shouted in a heavy Cockney accent.
Sarah’s heart gave a terrified leap. Her knees went weak, and she would have collapsed if Walt hadn’t been holding her.
Clyde Burgess’s men! The terrified thought ricocheted through her like a bullet. They found me!
“Stop the wedding!” the other man ordered as everyone seated in the pews turned to stare at the interlopers.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
This was the nightmare scene that Sarah had been dreading since she had fled Boston.
Terror paralyzed her, leaving a steely taste in her mouth, and her heart was pounding so hard that she shook with the force of it.
Emma and Abby both gasped, and Beth put her hand on Sarah’s shoulder, offering silent comfort.
Walt’s arms remained wrapped protectively around Sarah, and Larkin instantly stepped in front of her, shielding her from the two big men advancing on the altar.
And in the pews, some of bearded miners that Sarah remembered dancing with also rose to their feet. They glared at the newcomers, as if ready to defend her.
“Gentlemen!” Reverend Kottinger’s voice was firm and commanding. “What is the meaning of this interruption? We are in the middle of a holy ceremony!”
The hulking man who had shouted Sarah’s name was already halfway down the aisle. He halted, his equally hulking companion at his shoulder.
“Beggin’ yer pardon, Reverend,” he said, with a narrow-eyed look at Sarah. “But we’re here to retrieve something that belongs to our boss, Mr. Clyde Burgess of Boston.”
“Yeah,” added his companion. “This woman here is Mr. Burgess’s bride, and she either needs to come back to Boston with us or pay for breach of promise.”
What breach of promise? Sarah turned to give him a startled look.
He grinned nastil
y at her, his teeth gleaming shark-like from a bristle of auburn stubble coating his jaw and chin. “If you don't come with us all nice and cooperative, Miss Franklin, then Mr. Burgess is going to sue to you for ten thousand dollars.”
Ten thousand dollars? Sarah gulped.
A man, earning a decent wage at a skilled trade, would have to work for over a dozen years to earn that much money. But as a woman with no skills outside of household management, Sarah would never be able to earn a huge sum like that, not if she worked until she was an old woman.
Dark spots floated across her field of vision, accompanied by gold and blue sparkles. She realized that she was on the verge of fainting.
Reverend Kottinger raised his brows.
“Sarah?” he asked gently. “Is this true? Were you betrothed to Clyde Burgess?”
“No! Never!” she gasped. “I never promised to marry him!”
One of Burgess’s hulking enforcers squinted at her. “Oi, Stevie. Wasn’t she supposed to be a blonde?”
“Never mind that, Frank,” his companion snapped. “Just grab her and head back to the wagon.”
They resumed advancing on her.
Then Sarah grew angry. This was her wedding day, and Clyde Burgess wasn't going to ruin this like he’d ruined her life back home in Boston.
Her knees firmed up, though her heart was still pounding like a drum.
She turned in Walt’s arms and glared at Stevie and Frank. “I’m not going anywhere. I don’t belong to Clyde Burgess, and I never have! I’m staying right here in Twin Forks, with my husband.”
“You heard my wife,” growled Walt. “Get out of here, you chuckleheads.”
“Yeah, vamoose!” one of the miners standing in the pews shouted.
A torrent of shouts and insults peppered the air as more and more men rose to their feet, glowering at the interlopers.
Burgess’s men froze. Their bluster faded as they looked around at the hostile crowd, and they exchanged a look that clearly communicated, “What do we do now?”
Then the church doors banged open again.
And the very last person that Sarah had expected to see rushed in. It was Father, looking travel-stained and exhausted.
"Am I too late?" he demanded, looking wildly around the church.
His gaze lit on Sarah in her wedding gown, sheltered in Walt’s embrace, and she saw relief in his weary features.
“Father?” she asked in disbelief.
“Oh, thank God you’re safe, Sarah!” he exclaimed. “After I received that letter, I tried to tell Mr. Burgess that you were dead, but he found the photo and realized that it wasn’t you!”
“How—how did you get here?” Sarah asked, her lips numb with shock.
“Mail coach,” Father replied. “When I reached Salt Lake City, I discovered that the next train to Twin Forks wouldn’t depart until Thursday. And then I made inquiries and learned that Mr. Burgess’s men had hired a wagon and driver to take them to Twin Forks.”
“Tell your daughter that she’d better come along, nice and peaceful, if the two of you know what’s good for ya,” Frank, the bigger of Burgess’s two enforcers said. He crossed his arms and glared around the church.
“Hold your horses, everyone,” Reverend Kottinger ordered. He pinned Father with a sharp gaze. “Mr. Phillip Franklin? You’re Sarah’s father?”
Both Father and Sarah nodded.
“Good. Then you can clear up a point of confusion,” the reverend said. “Was there, in fact, an existing betrothal between your daughter Sarah and this Clyde Burgess?”
“No, Reverend, there wasn’t.” Father hung his head. “I—I, uh, promised her to Mr. Burgess as repayment of his gambling debt. We never discussed marriage.” He paused and added, shamefaced, “I was drunk when I signed those papers!”
“You sorry old coot!” growled Larkin. “You traded away your own daughter to a scoundrel while you were soused?”
Father sent a pleading gaze Sarah’s way. “I am so very sorry! Believe me, I would never have done anything like that if I’d been sober!”
“Drunk, sober, you signed those papers,” Stevie said. “Miss Franklin, if you know what’s good for you and your dear old papa here, you’ll get this marriage annulled and come with us now.”
“I'm Mrs. Edwards now, and I’m not going anywhere,” Sarah declared.
“Damned right she isn’t,” Walt affirmed. He looked both of the enforcers up and down. “Now, git, both of you. I want you two out of town by sunset.”
“Or you’ll do what?” sneered Frank.
Larkin smiled unpleasantly and answered for Walt. “Or I’ll get a tarring and feathering committee together, and we’ll see the two of you on your way.” He looked around at the gathered congregation, nearly all of whom were standing now and raptly observing the drama playing out before them. “Right, boys?”
“Right, Lark!” came an answering chorus of shouts, interspersed with a few suggestions of “Let’s throw ‘em a necktie party!” or “Ride ‘em out of town on a rail!”
Faced with the hostile crowd, the two enforcers rapidly retreated to the church doors.
"This ain't over, poppet," Frank growled. "Just you wait til Mr. Burgess hears about this."
“But I wager Mr. Burgess wouldn’t want a sharp-tongued strumpet like you, anyway!” Stevie shouted before they slipped away.
The crowd inside the church erupted in thunderous applause.
And Walt finally claimed his kiss, to a renewed chorus of encouraging shouts and whistles. At his loving touch, warmth and heat sank into Sarah’s bones, calming her shattered nerves.
“Ladies and gentlemen of Twin Forks,” announced Reverend Kottinger, when Walt finally broke the kiss. “May I present Mr. and Mrs. Edwards?”
Sarah exchanged fond hugs with all three of her attendants, and then, finally, with Larkin.
“I love you, my darling husband,” she whispered as she went up on tiptoes and kissed his cheek. “Thank you for everything.”
Larkin went red as she stepped back.
Emma waved at the assembled wedding guests, trying to get their attention. “Please join us for cake and refreshments in the garden while the bride and groom sign the register.”
The church emptied rapidly, even with a line of miners queued up to congratulate Walt and Sarah.
Father remained behind, standing awkwardly to one side, until Emma went up to him and gently shepherded him out to join the rest of the guests.
Sarah knew that she had one more difficult confrontation left before she could begin her married life.
At least now, with Larkin and Walt by her side, she felt strong enough to face her father and put her past behind her.
* * *
The church register was signed, the marriage license neatly tucked in Walt’s pocket, and best of all, Burgess’s men had been sent packing.
Sarah’s wedding day was turning out to be a joyous occasion, even with the unexpected appearance of Frank and Stevie.
Then Beth, Larkin, and Walt led her out of the church, into the bright spring sunshine, and Sarah caught sight of the tables with refreshments set up on Emma’s lawn.
There was even a keg mounted on a horse-drawn wagon. Eamon O’Sullivan, the owner of the Hotel Bede, stood in the wagon bed, drawing mugs of beer for the assembled wedding guests. Eamon's wife, the vivacious, red-haired Lucy O’Sullivan, was bustling about with trays stacked high with neatly cut sandwiches. Sarah had met them both at the dance and had found both of them to be warm and unpretentious.
Beth's son was kicking a ball down the street in the company of the town’s two other children. They were laughing and looked like they were enjoying themselves.
Sarah’s eyes began stinging, and her vision blurred with tears of joy. She couldn’t believe how kind and generous everyone had been to her, especially considering that she had arrived in Twin Forks less than two weeks ago.
Amidst a storm of congratulations, Abby left the side of her two escorts, her t
all, dark, and extremely handsome husband and his twin brother, and made her way to Sarah’s side.
Sarah gave the Brody twins a covert glance, trying to figure out which one was Abby’s husband. Her new friend had seemed equally comfortable with both twins, which reminded Sarah of the salacious gossip that she’d overheard at the dance.
“Well, that was quite the unexpected bit of excitement just now,” Abby said cheerfully. “I’ve been meaning to invite you to lunch at the Pronghorn Springs Ranch. How about Friday? Then we can all attend Emma’s dance after dinner.”
