“Do you, Asher John Blaine,” said the preacher, a stout middle-aged man with a large mole on his chin. “Take Ida Louisa Darcy as your lawfully wedded wife?”
Mr. Blaine looked down at Ida, and her breath caught. He was a handsome man; despite the way he’d treated her. While she knew she had to be wary in trusting him, she also knew they were stuck together, now.
“I do,” he said. As the reality of the situation hit Ida, tears fell from her eyes, coursing down her face. She was alone, well and truly. Cora had gone, her parents were dead, and the only person she had was a complete stranger.
“And do you - oh, dear.” The preacher placed a grandfatherly hand on her shoulder. “Are you alright?”
“Yes, of course,” Ida replied, though her voice shook like a sapling in a storm. “Please, continue.”
“Do you, Ida Louisa Darcy, take Asher John Blaine to be your lawfully wedded husband?” A sob worked its way out of her, startling both the preacher and her fiancé.
“I - I do,” she managed as sobs shook her body. Ida had wanted so badly to be strong as Cora would have been, but it was not to be.
“You may, um, kiss the bride?” This brought on further tears, as she’d never kissed anyone, and certainly not a stranger.
“Maybe not,” Mr. Blaine said, his face red. His eyes wandered around the room, looking at anything but his crying bride. “I think we should leave. Thank you.”
“You’re most welcome. Take care.” The preacher’s words followed them down the aisle and out the door.
Mr. Blaine had an arm wrapped around Ida’s waist, guiding her towards his wagon. She wished she’d kept herself together, but never, in all her life, had she been alone.
Once she was settled on the wagon bench, the sound of the wind playing with the wagon cover raging behind her, Mr. Blaine dashed around to his side, settling in beside her. His arm was right against hers, and she wanted to move away, but she couldn’t, unless, of course, she wanted to fall off the wagon.
“Are you alright, Ida?” She sniffled, then turned to look at him. He seemed more uncomfortable than anything else.
“Yes, I suppose. I’ve never been alone before. Thus far, I don’t like it.”
“You aren’t exactly alone.” A smile came to her tear-streaked face.
“You’re right, Mr. Blaine. I do have God.” He frowned.
“I don’t know that God cares a wit about anyone. What I meant was that we’re married, so we’re together.” Ida’s eyes widened as she took in the words.
“Do you mean to say that you are not Christian?” He nodded. “But Mr. Bachmann assured Cora and I that he’d chosen good, God-fearing men!”
“I suppose this tells me all I need to know about you.” Mr. Blaine guided the wagon into the road, then slapped the lines against the horse’s rump. “You’ve trusted two strange men with the rest of your life. You can’t be terribly clever.”
********
Asher didn’t know where the hurtful words had come from. Really, he was tired, angry, and embarrassed by his bride’s display of emotion. Still, it wasn’t his to outright insult people, especially women. Maybe it was all of her God talk.
“I’ll have you know, Mr. Blaine, that I am more clever than you. At least, I managed to be where I promised to be when I promised to be there.”
He winced, feeling guilty. When he’d left Arizona last month, he had thought he’d have plenty of time. But the axle on his wagon broke and he’d had to fix it. It wasn’t his fault he’d been late, but he didn’t like imagining wispy little Ida searching St. Louis for a room.
Glancing over, he noticed that her crying had started up again, this time silently. She didn’t look at him, choosing to fix her eyes on the landscape. The wind played with red her hair, making it look almost like fire. Her skin was pale, a stark contrast with his own tanned skin. She was a soft, delicate woman. What one earth had he been thinking?
“I’m sorry that I was late.” He didn’t say anything else, because what he wanted to do was ask if she would stop crying. Something, be it the way she'd reacted to previous statements or what little conscience he had told him that she wouldn’t appreciate that.
“I forgive you, I suppose. It would be a long, grudgeful lifetime otherwise.” He smiled, returning his eyes to the road. Perhaps she would toughen up some, after all.
********
On their third day of travel, Ida decided it would be best if she walked alongside the wagon. The main reason for this was that Mr. Blaine was new and strange to her. Everything he did was a puzzle. One moment, he would be kind and patient, not caring when she burned their supper. The next, he would make a rude comment on her intelligence.
“Are you sure you want to walk? You aren’t . . .” Ida looked up at him from her place beside the wagon and winked.
“If you’re about to inform me that I’m not hardy enough for walking a distance, you’re quite wrong, Mr. Blaine.” He blinked, seemingly unsure of what to say. She shrugged in return and began walking, refusing to look at him again.
“Someone is in a mood,” she heard Mr. Blaine say. “And you shouldn’t call your husband by his surname, Ida.”
“Alright, Asher. It’s nice to make your acquaintance.” After a long moment of silence, she said, “What is your life like in Silver Bell?”
“Oh, well . . . It’s nice. The land is beautiful. It’s all dusty and nearly golden, but near the creek that runs through the property, there’s so much green, it seems impossible. And I love it when the rain falls. The smell clings to everything. It’s a quiet life, but I wouldn’t trade it for anything.”
A glance her husband showed just how much he loved the land. “It must be easy to feel close to God in a place like that.”
“Not for me.” His face tightened. “If God is there, I’ve never seen Him.”
“Maybe you just haven’t been looking.” Ida’s hand snatched a prairie rose from the ground, raising it to her nose and taking a deep breath. “I’ve always found it easiest to see God in His creation. Every time I see a sunrise or watch birds fly, I know He’s there.”
“You’re lucky in that.”
As the day wore on, Ida’s feet began to burn. She supposed it was blistering. Instead of climbing into the wagon to give her feet rest, she continued walking, not wanting to sit in awkward silence beside her husband.
After a time, she began to sing, cheerful little tunes she Cora had liked as children. When they stopped so the horses could take water, she pulled her shoes off, throwing them into the wagon bed.
Unfortunately, this exposed the blisters on her feet. At Ida’s ankles and heels, there was bleeding, broken skin that stung from touching the air. As she moved towards the little creek the horses drank from, she winced in pain.
“Is something wrong, Ida?” She glanced over at Asher and shook her head, pasting a smile to her face.
“I’m alright. I was just going to wade around and cool my feet some.” He shrugged, accepting her answer. She sighed in relief, then, lifting her skirts, stepped into the cold water.
A shiver ran up her spine, but the water felt wonderful, pulling the burn from her skin. Ida watched as the blood rinsed from her feet. fish swam past her, flicking their tails, propelling their shimmering bodies along.
The sound of footsteps rustling the grass behind her took Ida by surprise. That could not compare, however, with her surprise when none other than Asher sat on the riverbank just behind her. She glanced back and saw him fiddling with a long piece of grass, twirling it around.
“Getting tired of that bench, I see,” she said, stepping out of the river to sit beside him.
“Well, it does get a mite uncomfortable. Besides, some company sounded nice.”
Ida adjusted her skirts over her feet, hiding the blisters from view. The last thing she needed was for him to think she was delicate. Her entire life, everyone - her parents, her sister - had treated her like a china doll. Lovely, but not useful.
“You
’ve been walking for a while,” Asher said. She nodded. “You’re probably tired.”
“I suppose, but not enough to complain of.”
“Most people would acquire some blisters from such a long walk. Do you happen to have any?”
“No, but thank you for your concern.” Ida felt her face burn red, and she couldn’t bring herself to meet his eyes. That was one thing she’d never been able to do; lie.
“I noticed that you threw off your shoes at the first chance to present itself. Then you go out into the river, an action I wouldn’t think you would perform. And now, you’re hiding your feet under your skirts, hoping I won’t notice.”
“That’s not true.” Ida stood, heading back to the wagon, intending to escape her husband. “If you’ll excuse me, I think I’ll get out of the sun for a while.”
It wasn’t long before she heard him following her. “If you aren’t hurt at all, let me look.”
“What?” Ida continued towards the wagon, climbing into the back. Her feet stung badly enough that tears attempted to surface.
“You heard me. If you’re truly alright, let me see for myself.” She turned, crossing her arms and glaring at him. He wore a smirk that, she had to admit to herself, looked nice on him.
“Fine, I’ll show you.” Uncrossing her arms, Ida grabbed her skirts and lifted them just high enough to reveal the red, still bleeding blister. She dropped the fabric, letting it fall into place. “Are you happy now?”
“Not particularly,” Asher replied, taking off his hat and setting it on the edge of the wagon bed. “You had only to tell me. I would have stopped the wagon sooner, or you could have ridden with me.”
“I didn’t want to bother you.” Ida’s voice was small in reaction to Asher’s hard tone. He sighed. “Besides, can’t we each go about our own business?”
“Not anymore, no. Whether you like it or not, we’re married. Our business is not separated anymore.”
Ida sighed, sitting down at the edge of the wagon bed, her legs dangling off the back. She kicked her feet absentmindedly and watched the grass ripple in the wind. Asher climbed in and started rifling through crates. When he found what he was looking for, he came forward.
Placing a small circular tin in her lap, he said, “Plantain salve. It works well on blisters and the like.” Then he hopped down, snatching his hat up as he went.
“God,” Ida whispered, burying her face in her hands. “Please, help me. I don’t know what to do about Asher. How can I convince him that you care for him? And how can I learn to care for him as well?”
She heard the creak of the wagon bench as her husband settled in. Quickly, she ran to the front of the wagon to sit beside him. When he gave her a questioning look, she smiled, hoping that both of them could learn to speak calmly with each other.
Lane Oklahoma
November 1876
“How do you feel about Christmas?” Ida asked when they’d been traveling for just over a week. “Do you celebrate it at all?”
“I have never had a Christmas, to be honest.” Ida’s eyes widened.
“Never? Not one single Christmas memory? No popcorn, no big dinner or supper?” He shook his head, his spine stiff.
“No. My Mother never liked Christmas, and my father was always gone. We didn’t have much money, so went out west to find work. He promised he’d make enough money to send for us. Instead, he died. He was working for a rail company, and when they wanted to use dynamite to open up a hill, something went wrong.”
“I’m sorry, Asher. That must have broken your heart.”
“I was sixteen, so it happened five years ago. Don’t worry about it.” He cleared his throat. “Anyways, it never felt right to have a holiday when he wasn’t there. So I don’t celebrate Christmas.”
Ida wondered how she could change his mind in just over a month. Obviously, he was convinced that God was at fault for everything. Yes, God had not stopped his father from dying. But that didn’t mean God wanted Asher to suffer. Sometimes it’s just someone’s time to go. Sometimes, it’s our time to let them go.
“How about you? Did you ever celebrate Christmas?” Ida smiled, thinking back to her childhood, which, if she was honest, hadn’t been all that long ago.
“Pa loved Christmas. We never had money for big gifts, but sometimes he’d bring an orange or some such home for me and Cora. He always made sure we sang Christmas songs and read about Jesus in the Bible. Honestly, I can’t imagine letting Christmas pass without so much as a song.”
“Well, that’s how it’s been for me.”
For whatever reason, this made Ida’s usually light heart feel dreadfully heavy. She forced a smile, elbowing his ribs.
“It can’t have been all bad. Life has its low points, but there must have been something good. Perhaps a beloved pet, or a dear friend? Siblings?” Asher smiled, just slightly.
“I have a younger brother, Jones. He was our mother’s favorite baby. I always tried to take care of him, and he’d do the strangest things. He’s fifteen now. Occasionally he writes, but I haven’t seen him in years.”
“Maybe we could visit him some time?” Asher shrugged, his eyes heavy with sadness.
“We’ll see.”
********
Asher tried to keep a straight face while Ida tried to apply the plantain salve to her blisters. They were nearly gone, but the skin was still torn and damaged. As the wagon jostled along, she rested a foot on the opposite knee, gingerly dabbing salve on the affected area.
“If you want, I can stop. We can take a break.” She shook her head and set her foot down again, closing the container.
“Not necessary. I’m finished.” A long moment passed in which Ida hummed a jaunty tune, the same sort she’d been singing for over a week. He smiled, unsure why her happiness made him feel . . . better.
“Not if you keep walking for so long. They’ll just keep opening up again.” She shrugged, still humming.
“I like the walking it makes my heart feel lighter.” Asher couldn’t imagine anything lighter than Ida’s heart. She had such a sweet, naive air about her. It was childish but was somehow almost charming.
Asher shook his head, refusing to dwell on whether or not his wife was charming. He hadn’t even known her for two weeks. They’d hardly communicated at all before they met. And, of course, there was the fact that God seemed to be the most important thing in her life, and he wasn’t even a Christian anymore.
Leave it to him to marry a girl that was, by far, too good for him. But wasn’t everyone too good for him? He’d never done anything that he’d consider good. Perhaps caring for his brother, but that didn’t count. Jones was family. What had he ever done that genuinely made the world better?
And the Christmas nonsense! Ida was obsessed with the holiday like she kept track of her days by counting down to Christmas. Every time Asher thought of celebrating that, or any holiday, his stomach churned.
“You seem so cross all of a sudden,” Ida said, her tone light. He glanced over to see a dimpled smile that he was beginning to like. “Are you getting hungry? I can make something to eat when we stop.”
“No, but thank you for offering. I was just thinking.” That, and he’d found that Ida couldn’t cook much. She could cook beans well enough, and pancakes, though they always burned. But anything else turned out poorly.
“Whenever I get to thinking, I just talk.” She gave a short laugh. “Well, I talk quite often. But most of the time it’s just because I get to thinking, and then I get too excited for silence. If you give me the chance, I’ll talk your ear off.”
“I don’t mind. I’ve never liked quiet. Until recently, I had no choice but to live with it. It’s nice to have someone talking.” Asher felt his face burn red. What was wrong with him? Why couldn’t he speak with her without feeling shy? He wasn’t usually that way.
Returning his full attention to controlling the horses, he decided to stop talking. He told himself that it was because he needed to pay attention,
rather than due to the fact that he was worried he’d start to care for Ida.
********
The further south the young couple went, the warmer it grew. Ida was beginning to wonder about Arizona and how warm it would be there. She figured it didn’t snow there, which was somewhat unfortunate. She’d always liked snow, as rarely as it had come her way. Still, it would be nice to go outside and feel the sun rather than ice.
As the sun was beginning to set, and Asher suggested they stop for the night. Ida agreed readily. She’d never enjoyed being in the dark, and a fire would be excellent. The only complaint she had was that she would embarrass herself once again as she attempted to cook.
[2016] A Bride's Journey Page 19
