by Vivi Holt
CHAPTER SIX
Brent
Brent was taken aback by how beautiful Christy was in person. The photo the agency had sent him right after they made the match didn’t do justice to her shining red hair, piled high in large curls on the top of her head. And they didn’t show her striking green eyes or peaches and cream complexion. Nor did the photos properly showcase her pleasing, curvaceous figure. He swallowed nervously as he dipped his hat and made his way toward her.
Brent felt his legs shaking a little as he walked down the station's platform. When they finally reached each other Brent wanted more than anything to scoop her up into his arms and kiss her on her full, red lips, but he knew that would be far too forward given the situation. He figured he could settle for a polite peck on the cheek instead, but now that he was close enough to Christy to see the frightened look in her eyes he realized, with a sinking stomach, that even a chaste kiss on the cheek would be too much for her to take just yet.
The smile faded from Brent’s face as he saw just how scared Christy was. Her jaw clenched and she coughed anxiously before she finally got the nerve to whisper a quiet, “Hello.”
Brent reached out and took her hand. He felt hers shaking and wondered if even that innocent action had been too much for her.
“Christy,” Brent said, trying to keep his voice as warm and welcoming as possible. “It’s such a pleasure to finally meet you. I have been looking forward to it.”
Christy nodded. It was clear to Brent that she was having great difficulty speaking in that moment. Brent cleared his throat. “I’ve fixed somewhere for us to clean up before the ceremony. So we can look tidy.”
Christy’s dropped her head. Look tidy. Christy wanted to look more than ‘tidy’ on her wedding day ― she wanted to wear a long, fine gown of frilly expensive lace. But instead it seemed she was going to have to make do with the clothes she was wearing. She looked down at the green dress constructed from sturdy material and reminded herself that she ought to be grateful she had clothes on her back at all.
Brent seemed to read Christy’s mind. “I think you look awful pretty Christy.”
Christy nodded. There was nothing to be done about it. She wouldn't be getting her dream wedding. But then again, she'd never dreamed of losing her parents at such a young age or of having an arranged marriage either, so life was certainly not following any of the plans she'd ever made.
“We ought to hurry,” Brent said. “I need to get back to the farm before evening as I’ve left my farmhand Kip in charge for the day.”
Christy nodded. They wouldn't even be having a night in town for their honeymoon. She trailed along behind Brent, taken aback by how quickly it was all happening. She’d never imagined her marriage would be done in such haste. She’d barely had time to catch her breath in the new town and she was already being whisked away to the wedding ceremony. She'd thought that she would have some time here before she would have to make up her mind finally about whether or not to go through with the wedding at all. But it seemed she would have no such chance for second thoughts. They were to be married now, and there would be no going back.
Still, thought Christy, at least we will be married in a church by a minister before God. That is something. When I see the church, I will know I have made the right decision. I’m sure it will be a sweet little building, and undoubtedly Brent has arranged for it to be romantically decorated. Maybe his friends are there waiting for us right now, with a delightful spread to share together after the ceremony. Christy's spirits lifted at the thought, and she raised her head high and smiled at the people around her. The town itself was quaint, with a somewhat unfinished look about it when compared with Philadelphia. It was dusty, and lined with raw timber store fronts and buildings. Wagons pulled by sturdy horses bounced up and down the streets, and folks stood about on street corners and in doorways chatting to people as they stopped for a moment in their busy days to connect with their neighbors.
Before long Brent stopped in front of a squat, timber building. He gestured towards it and led Christy up the pathway to the front door. A placard beside the door read, County Courthouse. Christy’s heart dropped. This is where we are to be married? A courthouse? She thought. By a judge?
Christy took a step backwards and almost tripped down the courthouse steps. She shook her head. “No,” she murmured.
“What’s the matter Christy?” Brent asked, turning around to stare at the white-faced girl.
“Brent ― are we not to be married by a minister? At your church?”
Brent shook his head. “I’m afraid we need to make do out here with what we have. My church is a-ways in that direction, and we have to go back that other direction to my farm. And anyhow, the minister's not at the church today. He's over at Blacks' farm since Sarah Black just had her fifth baby and she's not faring so well.”
“But it’s important to me that we are married with a minster present.”
"I'm sorry Christy. I did ask the minister to marry us, but as I said he was called away."
"Can we wait to be married when he gets back to town?" asked Christy.
"I wish we could Christy, really I do. But I have to get back to the farm. It doesn't run well without me. And I can't really take you back to the farm with me, us not being married and all. You understand, don't you? Anyhow, there's really no place for us to stay in town. Let's just get married today, it doesn't matter who does the marrying, so long as it's done, then we can head on home and take care of things there."
Christy stood outside the courthouse doors, stricken with indecision. She didn't want to cause a fuss or upset Brent, but at the same time she just didn't know how she felt about being married in a courthouse. It just didn't seem right somehow.
“Please come inside Christy,” Brent said gently. “Judge Hanley will do just fine. Even with only a judge, this will be a marriage as good as any, under the eyes of God and the law.”
Christy nodded, too shaken up to make any further objections. I may as well do as he says, he is to be my husband after all, she thought as she took a trembling footstep up the stairs of the courthouse. He's doing the best he can, but I really do feel as though nothing is working out the way that I had hoped it would.
Judge Hanley was a balding, fat man with very little patience. He had a rough manner about him as he recited the vows for Brent and Christy to repeat. And Christy watched in dismay as drops of sweat slid down his forehead to his cheeks and off his chin to the floor below. Soon the vows had been said, and Judge Hanley had declared them husband and wife in the eyes of God with the court clerk as their witness. The ceremony was over in a matter of minutes. There were no guests, no flowers and no grand ceremony. No white frilly dress and no lavish spread of food to share with family and friends.
Even worse than that—there had been no kiss.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Christy
This is nothing like how I imagined it would be, Christy thought, as they walked down the courthouse steps in silence.
At that moment Christy’s eyes welled up, and she had to turn away from Brent so that he would not see her. What made Christy want to cry was not just the disappointment of the wedding, but the fact that Christy was imagining her Ma admonishing her.
“Christy! Child!” her Ma would have scolded. “All your dreaming of fairytales has ruined you! Just as I warned you child! Now you can’t be happy with a perfectly fine reality staring you plain in the face!” Her mama’s voice, so clear in Christy’s head, caused Christy’s eyes to spill over in a flood of guilt and grief. She felt she was disappointing her mother, and that, coupled with her own disappointment, was too much for her to bear.
Despite her best efforts to conceal her tears, Christy’s chest began to heave and even with her back turned to him, Brent could see that his new bride was crying. Brent’s face fell.
“Christy?” he whispered, laying a gentle hand on her back. “I know the ceremony wasn’t everything you may have hoped. I’m awful s
orry.”
Christy stood up, shaking her head as she finished her sobbing. “It’s not that. I’m just missing my Ma something awful. She and Pa were killed in a robbery a few weeks ago on board the train I came out on from Philadelphia. I miss them every day, but most of all at a time like this!” She began to weep again as Brent watched on in dismay.
“That’s an awful thing for anyone to live through. Come on then,” he said gently. “We ought to be getting home. Perhaps you will feel better once we’re back at the farmhouse.”
***
Brent and Christy made small talk in the wagon. Christy shifted uncomfortably on the rough seat as she tried to come up with something to say to the stranger sitting beside her.
“It’s very warm out. Quite different to Philadelphia.”
Brent nodded.
What have I gotten myself into? Christy thought, as she sat stiffly on the bouncing timber seat, her hands pressed tightly together in her lap. Brent started to talk about the sick calf he had nursed through the night as Christy listened politely.
“Is she better now?” Christy asked.
Brent nodded. “Thankfully. But I didn’t get much sleep last night from tending to her.”
Oh, Christy thought, so he was more concerned with a calf than the fact he was getting married today. Christy suddenly felt very small in that wagon, as though she didn’t matter at all ― that Brent could have chosen any other woman who’d been sitting in that church hall on that warm evening in Topeka and been just as happy. Christy was nothing special - that much was obvious. Yet even so, she was keenly aware of his presence beside her on the bench. She shifted again on the seat.
Christy snuck a glimpse at the man sitting next to her. He did seem happy when he first saw me. He smiled at me and it lit me all up inside. But now he has gone so quiet. Disappeared inside of himself. Have I really disappointed him so much, in such a short space of time?
Christy turned her attention back to the road in front of them. She frowned as she saw a long, thin object up ahead of them.
“What is that?” Christy asked.
Brent shook his head. “Nothing,” he said. “I don't see anything.”
“There!” Christy said. “Watch out Brent!”
A rattle snake lay still in the middle of the road. It hissed, shaking its rattling tail at the horse, causing the bay to rear up on his hind legs. The wagon leaned precariously to one side and overturned, spilling first Christy, then Brent, out onto the road. Christy caught the brunt of the impact, and it took Brent a few moments to realize that she was hurt.
“Christy!” Brent called out in dismay, rushing over to where Christy lay in the dirt.
“Where is the snake?” Christy asked breathlessly.
“Long gone I’d say,” Brent said. He tried to scoop Christy up into his arms but she pushed him away. She was looking frantically for the snake, which had disappeared from view. She’d certainly never seen a creature like that before, growing up as a girl in Ireland and then living for years in Pennsylvania. As Christy kicked her legs out she realized that her ankle was swollen and her left leg was bruised.
“Stay still Christy! You’re hurt.”
“Why did the horse do that?” Christy asked.
She pushed Brent away properly this time, and struggled to her feet despite the pain. Brent caught her wincing and tried to help, but Christy was furious. “Why didn’t you listen to me when I warned you about the snake?” she asked. “Did you not believe me?”
“I’m sorry Christy,” Brent said. He looked over his shoulder as he heard the horse trotting away from them on the road. Brent ran after it and grabbed it by the reins, pulling it to a halt. “Here ― are you well enough to take hold of the reigns while I check the horse and wagon for damage and make sure that darned snake has skedaddled?”
Christy nodded and hobbled over to the horse with a dark look on her face. She tried to hold the horse still while Brent checked the wheels of the wagon and looked around the roadside for the snake.
“Whoa, easy boy,” Christy said as the horse turned his head and began to nibble at Christy’s hair. “Why, what’s he doing that for?” Christy squealed.
Brent looked up. “He’s just hungry. Hold him still for a minute. I can’t see the rattler anywhere, seems as though he’s gone. I just need to tighten one of the nuts holding this rear wheel in place, I'm almost done.”
She felt her heart beat faster as the horse brought his head close to hers again. Christy could feel the horse’s hot breath against her neck and as the creature opened his mouth and bared his teeth, Christy squealed again, dropping the reigns this time as she jumped back in fright.
The horse bolted as soon as the reigns were dropped, and Christy watched in wide-eyed dismay as he galloped away, taking the wagon along with him.
Brent was knocked to his side as the wagon passed by him. “Christy!” he called out. “Catch him!”
But Christy was frozen to the spot in fright, and the horse was far too quick for her. He was already a hundred yards down the road before Christy was even able to process what had happened.
Brent stood up and brushed himself off, his face dark like thunder. “How could you let that happen? Now we'll have to walk, and who knows what will happen to the horse. He might hurt himself, and he's a valuable beast. What were you thinking?"
Christy turned to him, her red curls dampened by dust and dirt lay limp bout her face. “Me! Why, this is hardly my fault, Brent! I’ve never handled a horse on my own before and I was doing my best! That creature was trying to eat my hair. It's barely broken in!”
Christy reached a shaking hand up to touch her messy locks, and just for a brief moment Brent laughed as if the whole situation were completely absurd. He managed to control himself as he said, “He was hardly going to eat the hair off your head, Christy,” followed by another snigger.
Christy crossed her arms and pouted. “Well, how was I to know that? I think you’re being awfully rude to me Brent! I'm all alone with a strange man in the middle of nowhere, and you blame me because your horse isn't properly trained.”
Brent sighed.
“It’s not so difficult to hold onto a horse's reins Christy! It was vain of you to worry more about your hair than about the horse and wagon!”
Clearly, Brent was no longer amused by the situation. He’d lost a valuable horse, and a wagon; he glared at his new bride as he would a petulant child.
Christy’s lips began to tremble again.
“I wish I’d never come to this awful place! It was a mistake to come here. Why did I think I could marry a stranger and be happy?"
As soon as she said the words, Christy wanted to bite her tongue. She wished she could take them back when she noticed the stung look on Brent’s face.
“I see,” he said, turning away. “Well, that makes two of us then I suppose.”
Christy swallowed. She was no longer sorry she’d said it— not if Brent felt the same way! She had been right, he didn't want her after all. He had agreed with her that they should never have met, let alone gotten married. It had all been a terrible mistake. And suddenly Christy felt very alone in the world.
Brent walked ahead of her down the road. “We ought to find the wagon.”
She followed after him, tears streaming down her dirty cheeks.
***
They walked in silence for more than two miles, Christy bravely attempting to hide her limp as she gingerly shifted her weight away from her injured ankle. Brent strode down one side of the road and Christy hobbled as quickly as she could on the other. Christy kept trying to sneak a glance at Brent without him noticing. Every time he looked her way, she felt tingles run up and down her body. She had calmed down, and wished dearly that she hadn't run off at the mouth, telling him she regretted coming here. She kept recalling the look on his face as she'd said it, and it sent a dagger through her heart every time.
Did he really mean what he said? Does he wish I’d never come? Of course he
does. Brent is so handsome that he could have any woman he desires, and I’m sure he’d much rather a docile woman who never speaks her mind rather than a red-headed firebrand like me. Besides, it’s for the best anyway, Christy thought. I’ve no place in this town. That’s already plain enough. How could I ever hope to make a life here? I’m out of place and I'm hopeless ― I couldn’t even keep hold of a horse! How could I possibly think I could be his partner in life and help him run a farm?
Guilt plagued Christy as she thought back to the incident. She wondered if she had cost Brent a lot of money. She prayed that they would find the wagon and the horse in one piece.
I don’t care about my possessions God, Christy prayed. Let them be ruined, but please let the horse and wagon be found. And let Brent forgive me.
Christy stopped suddenly and shielded her eyes from the sun. “Why, look!” she called out, pointing ahead of them down the winding track.
“What is it?” Brent snapped. “Another snake?”
“No.” Christy cast him a look as she hurried down the road. “It’s my suitcase!”
She ran up to the luggage only to find the case snapped and broken and all her clothes and garments, along with those donated to her by Meredith, either broken or strewn far and wide. “Oh dear,” Christy said, sitting down besides the suitcase. “I suppose it’s just as I deserve,” she murmured, as Brent walked over to her.
