by Renee Ryan
Closing her eyes a moment, Rebecca called upon her favorite verse from the Book of Joshua, the one she’d recited over and over throughout her travels from Norway to America. Be strong and of a good courage; be not afraid.
She knew what she had to do. Her pride no longer mattered. Her reputation wasn’t important, either. This was about protecting her only living relative as best she could.
Rebecca stared down at her brother as an uncomfortable silence hung between them. They were both breathing hard.
Thankfully, Mrs. Jennings returned and Rebecca shifted her gaze to the woman. “Can you serve supper without me tonight?” she asked. “I have someone I need to…find.”
Eyes filled with concern, Mrs. Jennings looked from Rebecca to Edward and then back to Rebecca again. “There’s nothing wrong, is there?”
Rubbing her palms together, Rebecca lifted her chin at a determined angle. “Nothing I can’t fix with a short conversation.” And an equally short ceremony.
“Well, then, by all means, dear. Do what you have to do.”
Edward grabbed her arm. “You don’t need to go to him, Rebecca. Pete’s coming for you on his own. Tonight.”
“Pete’s coming here? Tonight?” Her heart skipped a beat. “Then he knows about your fight?”
“He broke it up.”
“Oh, Edward.” Her knees threatened to give way, but she refused to collapse into a heap of nerves.
“He said to put on your prettiest dress,” Edward added.
“Yes, of course.” Her tone came out flat. There were just too many emotions to sort through to give into any one of them.
“Yes, of course?” Edward lifted a single eyebrow. “You have nothing more to say than that?”
She shrugged. What else could she say? Pete was coming to propose. Only this time, it wouldn’t matter what words or what tone he used. Edward’s safety was all that mattered.
A wave of sadness flooded through her. All her dreams of a happy future with a man who loved her solely for herself were disintegrating.
Her choice of a husband was no longer hers to make. Marriage to Pete was inevitable now.
But, maybe, if she dug deep enough, all the way down to a hidden spot in the back of her soul, she might be able to find a spark of hope waiting to ignite. A small, tiny thread of anticipation that had her wishing the inevitable didn’t have to be a bad thing. Maybe, just maybe, God had a plan she couldn’t discern just yet.
Be strong and of a good courage; be not afraid.
Shoulders back, Rebecca forced a smile on her lips and addressed Mrs. Jennings. “Will you stand with me at my wedding?”
“Oh, my dear. Of course.” Tears filled the woman’s eyes. “I would be honored.”
Rebecca touched her brother’s shoulder. “I’ll go change now. Send someone to find me when Pete arrives.”
“No need.” His gaze locked onto something behind her. “He’s already here.”
Pete was here? Now? A flutter captured her heart. She wasn’t ready to see him. She wasn’t prepared. She wasn’t calm.
It didn’t matter.
Pivoting quickly around, she faced the man who would soon be her husband. Her breath clogged in her throat.
Pete Benjamin looked…magnificent.
His hair was still damp at the edges, indicating that he’d washed before coming to her this time. But more shocking than that, he was wearing…he…was…wearing…
A suit.
A freshly pressed solid-black suit with a crisp white shirt and a green brocade vest. There was no neck cloth tied at his throat, but a gold watch fob dangled from the center button of his vest to a small pocket on his right side.
He should have looked ridiculous. Or at the very least uncomfortable.
But, instead, dressed in his fancy clothes, Pete Benjamin looked big and masculine and so very, very handsome. A tower of strength encased in wool and crisp linen.
In that moment, Rebecca knew she was making the right decision. With Pete, she would be safe. Safe from gossip. Safe from men like the Tully brothers. Safe. Always safe.
It wasn’t the same as love, or even affection, but she knew it could be worse. Much worse.
Tears blurred her vision before she blinked them away and lowered her gaze to the clump of flowers Pete strangled in his right hand. She could tell he’d gathered the colorful array of wildflowers himself. A few stems still had their roots hanging ragged at their tips.
What a dear, dear man.
With slow, methodic steps, he came toward her, his eyes never leaving her face. And then…
He lowered to one knee.
Smiling sweetly, he thrust the makeshift bouquet at her. “These are for you.” His voice came out gravelly, with an edge of tenderness that sent her heart kicking against her ribs.
“They’re…they’re…” She touched a fingertip to the corner of her eye and sighed. “Really quite lovely.”
Fingers shaking, she took the bouquet and buried her nose in the blossoms.
Taking her free hand in his, Pete pressed a soft kiss to the knuckles. “Rebecca.” He looked back into her eyes. “Will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”
Unable to catch a decent breath, Rebecca shot a quick glance at her brother. Her gaze fell onto his split lip, the harsh physical reminder nudging her in the proper direction.
Squaring her shoulders, she turned her attention back to Pete. “Yes,” she whispered. “I’ll marry you. As soon as possible, please.”
Two hours after Pete’s second—and final—proposal, Rebecca eyed High Plains’s only church from the bottom of the boardinghouse steps. Situated directly across the street, the modest structure seemed to sleep contentedly under the indigo sky. Moonlight polished a row of square-paned windows into clear, sparkling diamonds.
The building practically glowed, beckoning Rebecca forward. To her new life.
Her heart filled with a fierce longing. Would this marriage be the best decision of her life? Or the worst?
“Let’s go.” Edward took her elbow and attempted to guide her across the street. They stumbled and staggered a few steps until Rebecca took charge. She ducked under his right arm and did most of the guiding while her injured brother did a considerable amount of leaning.
Mrs. Jennings’s worried gaze met Rebecca’s before shifting to the church up ahead. “My dear boy, are you sure you can make it up those steep steps?”
A pained smile twisted his lips. “I will not miss my sister’s wedding.”
“Of course you won’t.” Mrs. Jennings’s nod held the perfect amount of understanding. Thankfully, one of the other boarders was watching little Alex, freeing the woman for most of the night. Rebecca was grateful for her presence. She needed a friendly face now more than ever, and there hadn’t been time to send for Emmeline or Cassandra.
With each step, Rebecca kept her gaze glued on the church. Conscious of the sidelong glances Edward dropped on her, she tried to ignore the sorrowful look in his eyes, a look that seemed to say he regretted forcing her into this marriage.
But what could he have done? What could any of them have done? Matilda Johnson’s gossip had set events into motion. Edward’s fight with the Tullys had only hastened the inevitable. Rebecca just prayed her marriage to Pete would end the worst of the gossip, thereby erasing most of the danger to Edward.
“I wish there’d been time to have Mrs. Morrow make you a new dress,” Edward said in a halting tone.
Rebecca’s heart wrenched at his words. She’d put on the nicest dress she owned. Unfortunately, the soft blue calico was rather simple with its long, narrow sleeves, modest neckline and flared skirt that billowed to the ground from its fitted waist. As a sentimental gesture, she carried her mother’s lace kerchief. Rebecca had sprinkled the tiny piece of material with lavender water. Her mother’s favorite.
“Not to worry, Edward.” She patted his arm, trying not to show any disappointment in her gaze. Mrs. Morrow was a brilliant seamstress. A dress from her sho
p would have been a lovely item to own. “Under the circumstances, I don’t think it matters what I wear.”
He looked ready to argue, but they’d come to the bottom of the church steps. Navigating the stairs took all his effort.
Once they entered the building, the sound of their footsteps echoed through the deserted church. The interior was illuminated with a few flickering candles, enough to light their way down the center aisle.
Edward leaned over and kissed Rebecca on the cheek before collapsing onto the front pew with a soft groan. He closed his hand over hers to keep her from moving away from him.
“This is the right decision,” he said. “Pete will make you a proper husband.”
Rebecca sighed. Of course Pete would make her a proper husband. But would that be enough? He was a complete stranger to her, a man she’d barely spoken to since their time in his storm cellar. And even less before that.
How could she ever hope to replace Sarah in his heart? Did she even want to? She found him attractive, yes, but events had moved so quickly today. She hadn’t had time to think through all the consequences.
What did she really know about her future husband? He was good to Edward, and paid him a fair wage, but did that guarantee he would be a decent husband, as well?
Biting her bottom lip, she turned at the sound of creaking door hinges. Her groom entered the church with Reverend and Mrs. Preston flanking him on either side.
In the flickering candlelight, Pete’s expression was cast in shadow. But as he drew nearer, Rebecca could see that his features were set in an overly serious frown, with dark determination staring out of his eyes. This ceremony would take place. That much, she read in his gaze.
Pete Benjamin might be a man who kept his emotions closely guarded, but she’d seen below his mask on more than one occasion. He would not allow gossip to hurt her anymore. He was too much of a gentleman to let the evil words continue. She trusted him to protect her from any danger.
But what of tenderness and affection? What of love?
Would her marriage be any different from her lonely childhood?
As though sensing her distress, Pete’s brown eyes locked with hers, and he smiled so sweetly her heart skipped a beat. If not careful, she could fall for this man.
She must not.
Her parents’ neglect had taught her well. Only loneliness and pain came from loving too much, especially when the emotion wasn’t returned.
She would have to be careful with her feelings for this man.
Pete stopped directly in front of her. “Rebecca.” His voice was surprisingly gentle. “Are you certain you want to do this tonight? I know I’ve pushed you. We can wait a day or two if you need more time to prepare.”
Staring into those beautiful, compelling eyes, she couldn’t answer him right away—her heart was stuck in her throat—but she swallowed back her nerves and forced her words out in careful English. “Now is good. Now is right.”
He smiled again, the gesture transforming his face. Honestly, the man should smile more often.
Needing a moment to gain her composure, she quickly turned her attention to the preacher and his wife. “Good evening. I appreciate you doing this for us tonight.”
They both nodded solemnly.
Richard Preston looked like a preacher. Tall, scarecrow thin and dark-haired, he was an ordinary-looking man with a pleasant, nearly forgettable face. His wife was shorter, a little plump, very blond and quite pretty.
Mrs. Preston’s gaze met Rebecca’s for the first time ever. Rebecca clutched her mother’s kerchief tighter. Although Susannah wasn’t actually scowling at her, her mouth was pinched at a slightly odd angle. A single hollow etched a tiny groove across her wide brow, and her eyes held a watchful expression.
Rebecca sighed. She supposed the woman’s lack of warmth was to be expected. Susannah Preston was friends with Mrs. Johnson’s daughter, Abigail. No telling what she’d heard about Rebecca’s time spent with Pete in his storm cellar.
Yet another reminder why this marriage must occur tonight.
Burying her trembling fingers inside the folds of her skirt, Rebecca tried to appear calm. Stoic was the best she could manage under the circumstances.
Pete took her elbow and directed her to the front of the church. He loomed large next to her, but instead of scaring her, his presence gave her courage. In a matter of hours, he’d become her pillar of strength, her trustworthy sentinel much like the granite cliffs overlooking the fjords in her homeland.
Glory.
“Let’s begin,” the pastor said, employing his booming preacher voice despite the fact that the wooden pews held all of two people this evening.
Bible open, he shifted his gaze to his wife. “My dear, would you be so kind as to play a hymn for us first?”
Giving him a stiff bob of her head, Susannah Preston positioned herself at the church’s organ.
Hands raised, she pounded out the wheezing refrain of a hymn Rebecca had never heard before. Then again, perhaps she had heard the tune. The organ had seen better days twenty years ago. Now it was a pitiful instrument that only produced a series of hisses, tinks and bangs.
Trying not to cringe, Rebecca smoothed the lines in her already smooth skirt. She cast a quick glance over her shoulder. Mrs. Jennings sat broomstick-straight, while Edward slumped forward, his left arm wrapped protectively around his middle. What a forlorn little group they made.
“It’ll be over soon,” Pete whispered. To punctuate the statement, he took her hand and gently stroked his thumb over her knuckles.
Her heartbeat quickened.
The music stopped abruptly and Rebecca jerked.
Pete let go of her hand and squared his shoulders.
“Dearly beloved,” the pastor began. “We are gathered here to witness the union of Peter Daniel Benjamin and Rebecca Anne Gundersen in holy matrimony.”
With the words of the marriage ceremony falling over them, Rebecca found herself thinking of her parents again, and she brought the kerchief to her cheek. From her first memory to her last, Helga and Carl Gundersen had formed a single unit. They’d been so close that even their own children couldn’t break past their tight bond. They’d truly been joined as one.
In that moment, Rebecca realized why she considered marriage to Pete such a lonely prospect. She’d viewed it from the eyes of an ignored child.
Would marrying Pete be as lonely as she expected, or could she hope for something else, something that transcended her childhood memories?
“Scripture is clear about the purpose of marriage,” Reverend Preston continued. “As Genesis 2:24 says, ‘Therefore a man must leave his father and his mother, and shall cleave unto his wife.’”
Rebecca cast a quick glance at Pete from under her lowered lashes. Would he cleave to her?
She could tell nothing from his expression. His eyes held a sad, distant look in them. Was he thinking of his first wife?
How could he not think of her now? After all, Pete had wanted to marry Sarah, while mean-spirited gossip had driven this union. Not love, not choice, but necessity.
Rebecca swallowed back a sob.
Pete turned his head to look at her then. His rich brown eyes seemed to see right through her, past every pretension and straight to the secret depths of her soul.
His gaze softened and he clutched her hand again. The gesture had a soothing affect on her nerves.
Reverend Preston cleared his throat.
Pete continued commanding Rebecca’s gaze. A moment passed, and then, slowly—very, very slowly—he let go of her hand.
Without his touch, despair threatened to press in on her again. She shook off the melancholy with a determined shrug.
“Do you have rings to exchange?” the Reverend asked.
Rings? Rebecca looked at Pete. He stood blinking at her in what could only be described as stunned silence.
“I’m sorry, Rebecca, I didn’t think.” His gaze filled with genuine regret. “It never occurred to me
to provide rings.”
“Not to worry.” Mrs. Jennings scuttled forward, nudging the preacher aside with her hip until she was standing in his place. “It occurred to me.”
With a flourish, she pulled out two shiny gold rings from a tapestry satchel hanging around her wrist. “My dear Mr. Jennings purchased these on our wedding day thirty years ago. God willing, they’ll fit you.”
“Oh, Mrs. Jennings.” Rebecca’s throat cinched. “I…we can’t possibly take your wedding rings.”
“You most definitely will accept them. They’re my gift to you, freely given.” She cupped Rebecca’s cheek and smiled kindly. “I never had children of my own. You and Edward are as close as I’ll ever come.” She dropped her hand. “Take these precious rings with my blessing.”
“I…I…” Rebecca couldn’t push her words out in English.
A wave of desperation had her turning to Pete for help.
He stepped forward and pulled Mrs. Jennings into a loose hug. “We’d be honored to accept this treasured wedding gift.” He set her at arm’s length, his hands resting on her thin shoulders. “And I promise, before you and God that I will take care of Rebecca the rest of my days.”
Sniffing loudly, Mrs. Jennings waved a dismissive hand between them. “Oh, dear Mr. Benjamin, I know that.”
Pete stepped back and opened his hand.
Smiling through watery eyes, Mrs. Jennings dropped both rings into his outstretched palm.
Overcome with her own emotion, Rebecca stood rigid and trembling, unable to fathom how blessed she’d become in one day.
Realizing everyone was waiting for her, she stepped forward and hugged Mrs. Jennings tightly against her. “Thank you. I won’t ever, ever forget this.”
Dabbing at her eyes, the older woman patted Rebecca’s hand and then quickly returned to her seat.
Rebecca smiled ever so slightly.
The Lord had just provided her with a new beginning. Not the one she had expected. Certainly not the one that she’d dreamed of as a little girl. But a fresh start, all the same.
She would not waste this opportunity.
Chapter Six
