"There is no such thing," her Aunt responded without missing a beat. "Soon you will find you have ended up like me- a barren spinster."
Jemma laughed at the nonchalance with which the woman stated her hopeless situation.
"Find a man soon Jemma and make sure you have many tiny children to fill your home with laughter."
Jemma had been thinking about it for a while but considering she had just been in town, adjusting had not yet been completed and so she had not yet met any man she liked about these parts. When she was further settled she would think about it some more and if needs be she would try Jenny's way- mail order bride.
It seemed to have worked out for Jenny; maybe she would have the same luck. If all didn't go well then she would just go back to Texas.
***
For the first month that Martin was with his war friend Lenard and his wife Jenny, he was happy. He played with their son Jake who was not yet a year old and the joy in the toddler’s eyes mended his own joy bit by bit. He spent the next month responding to letters that came in response to his mail order bride ad but found nothing interesting. Jenny had been a mail order bride and was generous enough to help him find an alternative for his lonely soul. The options he got were never to his liking. Reading the last one he threw it in frustration on the floor. To little Jake's delight it was another piece of paper to play with.
"I will be an old man with a couple cats who will dote on you for the rest of your life, little Jake," he said sitting on the floor so the child could crawl all over him drooling as he went.
"He will grow up and be off someday," Lenard said from the doorway, walking in to drop a stack of letters on his chest. "New suitors."
John groaned and tossed them aside. So far he had found all the women lacking in one thing or the other. He was tired of being disappointed. He excused himself for a walk in the late evening sun, and took with him his letters.
There was Katarina of Mississippi who kept speaking of her qualities as if she were applying for a job. There was Cara of New York whose prose was so horribly written he could barely understand her. Martha of Georgia who spoke of her dead cat several times and the list went on and on. He was just about to throw the whole lot out when he saw the elegant penmanship from a woman named Jemma. She spoke of travel and longing for adventure. She spoke of the war and what losing people meant and how it fuelled her appreciation of those around her. He was enthralled in her letter that was two pages long and spoke very little of herself directly. But from what she wrote he learnt so much of the woman who had penned those words. She was a woman of deep thought and one who seemed to look at the world through coloured lenses. She was someone he could get to know. The letter was addressed from a town on the border of Minnesota and he smiled. So close to home. He would respond to this one, maybe there was something there.
"You are smiling,” Jenny said when he walked back into the house.
"I might have found one," he said smiling and twirling her to the silence around them for a moment. He kissed Jake's sleeping head before making his way to his room to respond. He would have this Jemma respond to his home because come the weekend he was going to stop wallowing in his own sorrows and go back to Minnesota to pick up where he left off. Emma had broken his heart, but life would go on.
***
Two weeks later Jemma read the letter three times and each time she smiled. She liked this man who made light if his broken heart and the fact that if she decided to meet him she would have to be prepared to help him mend.
I am not looking for a woman to fix me but one who understands that I am a broken instrument that can still play a good tune or two.
She found him to be a man who embraced the reality of what his life was and that was something she could appreciate.
"What are you smiling about?" Megan asked.
She held up the letter with a big grin. "I think he might be the one."
Megan took her time reading the letters before she smiled and turned back to Jemma. "He sure spins a good story. How do you know he is for real?"
"I don't but I am willing to find out," Jemma replied and that she was. The letter said he was from Minnesota and she was happy she would not have to travel far.
"When do you meet him?"
"In two weeks on the other side of the state," she replied joyfully. "I hope he is as sweet as his words are."
For the next two weeks Jemma envisioned her John in every kind of way. She thought of him as a man of honour, a drunk, a surly big bellied man and even as a mute. She tried to prepare herself for every possibility. She was so nervous Megan had to feed her cups of chamomile tea.
"What if he doesn't like me?" She constantly asked.
"Then he would be a bit thick in the head," Megan responded with a smile as she helped Jemma braid her hair and get ready for bed.
"What if he is an angry man?"
"Then you treat him sweetly and hope that a soft answer each time will help."
Jemma wasn't so sure about that one. She had seen angry men who took their rage out on the world and she was not interested in a man like that. She would most certainly go back to Texas if that was the case.
"Stop worrying," Megan demanded and tried to sooth her before bed. She crawled in and prayed that come the weekend her three hour trip to meet this John Whitter didn't spell ill for her.
The following Saturday her heart was beating faster than that of the horses she often saw galloping around town. She tried pacing to calm herself and that didn't work.
"Tell her if she doesn't calm down she is going to drop dead before she meets her husband to be," Auntie Jasmine said to Megan.
"I already did that," Megan said with a sigh.
"Tell her if she is so worried maybe she should just stay here and forget it," Auntie Jasmine said louder, dropping yet another hint that she wanted Jemma to get married but at no point did she suggest she do so and move clear across the country.
"I did that too," Megan said, "but I really want her to go."
Jemma sat in a huff and glared at the women in silence. They sipped their teas knowing better than to say anything to her. That was their symmetry for the next fifteen minutes until a carriage pulled up outside Auntie Jasmine's house. A man about her age stepped out, fully decked out in tailored suit and a fur coat draped over his shoulders. She opened the door before he could knock.
"Ah, Ms. Jemma Fair?" He asked looking at her a bit surprised at how fast she had opened the door. She lost the ability to speak as she looked at him and Megan came to her rescue.
"Yes, she is."
The man extended an arm to her. "I am Clive, Mr. Whitter's caretaker. He sent me to fetch you for evening tea. If we leave now then we can make it before sunset."
Jemma stared at the hand, willing herself out of the stupor that gripped her but nothing happened and again Megan came to her rescue.
The man frowned at Jemma before addressing Megan. "I think maybe you should accompany her.”
Megan looked at her for confirmation and she managed to shake her head in agreement. The young girl took less than ten minutes to throw some things into a small suitcase and before long they were boarding the carriage and heading to the other side of the state.
"Breathe Jemma, breathe," Megan kept telling her and to be honest she felt so much better with her friend there. She found her nerve to hold a conversation with Clive who sat across from them with a perpetual frown.
"My apologies for my earlier state of catatonia," she said with a smile. "It is just that this is a big move and for a moment there I lost myself in all the possible fears that could become reality."
He smiled at her. "It happens to the best of us but I was honestly beginning to worry."
"That I was crazy?" She asked with a laugh.
"No," the man said, his face going serious. "That John had gotten his hopes up for no reason at all."
Jemma was shocked by his blatant honesty but not offended by it. She had grown to appreciate th
e callous truth and the clarity that comes with it.
"Is he a hopeful man, this John?"
Clive smiled and this time his eyes twinkled. She could see he had a kind of love and loyalty for the man she was asking about. "He is a man who dreams of magical things like love and unicorns."
"He is a man with a heart," she said happy she was not wrong from what he had read.
"Yes," Clive said, the hardness returning to his face, "and I would rather he be alone than enthralled with any woman who could not appreciate him."
Jemma's smile disappeared and she realized that as much as this man she travelled with was a gentleman and had treated her as nothing but such, the bigger issue was that she now realized it was not John Whitter she would have to convince that she could be a good wife, it was Clive. Such dynamics did nothing to keep her calm and she looked at Megan whose face echoed the same sentiment. For the next two hours of the ride she remained silent, choosing to focus instead on the cool winds nipping at her face through the window and the kaleidoscope of late summer colours that they passed by. She smiled at Megan who rubbed her hand in support occasionally and tried as best as she could not to look at Clive. She had never before had to prove herself worthy to anyone or anything. She found the thought offensive but she knew that sometimes she had to take a step back and ensure that she didn't become her own destruction. One thing was for sure though, as much as this man was to be her husband, assuming they liked each other, she was not going to be the only one who would have to prove themselves worthy of affection and a lifetime commitment. If she had learnt anything in life, it was that these things were a matter of mutual understanding and acceptance, without which, such a union would fail.
***
John paced the expanse of his living room trying his best to not wear a hole in the bottom of his boots. They were late and he was worried that his Jemma had decided against meeting him. She did seem to have a fierce spirit from her letters and even more was the fact that she seemed to have a strong sense about herself. He had liked it instantly but what if his willingness to show her his weaknesses had been his own undoing?
To spare himself from falling prey to his own mind he decided to put his black suit on, the grey and the weather was making him look a little drab and he had already decided that he wanted to look his best. Not that he was banking on his good looks but he did want to make a lasting first impression. When he heard the carriage pulling up minutes later, he froze on the spot then rush to splash some cold water on his face. His cook was amused at his behaviour.
"Am I being a child?" He asked her worriedly.
"No," she said to him with a smile. "This is exactly how your father used to behave when he was courting your mother."
Knowing that soothed him and he kissed her on the cheek with immense gratitude. "Thank you Rosa." Then taking a deep breath he made his way down to the foyer and out into the brisk winds as Clive stepped out of the carriage and helped a beautiful doe eyed woman out behind him. She stole his heart with the timid smile she wore.
"My Lord," Clive said, "meet the Lady Jemma Fair."
They smiled at each other and John was at a loss for words as her big brown eyes pulled him in. All his worries ceased and his soul rocked in time to her heartbeat. He knew then and there that there was no question as to whether or not he would marry this woman- as long as she would have him.
"And the Lady Megan," Clive broke their trance as he helped a more fragile young woman from the back of the carriage. He looked at Jemma confused.
"I was worrying myself into the ground and so Megan was offered the opportunity to accompany me and accepted. I hope you don't mind My Lord," Jemma explained and he could hear the worry in her voice.
"Not at all!" He exclaimed taking Megan's hand and kissing the back of her palm. "Any friend of yours is welcome to stay here. Especially ones who helped you in your time of need."
"Thank you," she said and he wasted no time bundling her up the stairs and out of the cold evening breeze. Behind him Clive wore a frown he chose to ignore for the moment. Maybe something had happened on their trip there but that would be something he could handle later. For now he was more interested in getting to know his bride to be. While the women went to freshen up for dinner, he took a moment of solitude in his library to mull over the decision of a lifetime he was about to make. Later as he sat over the luscious five course meal his cook had prepared they spoke about what life was like.
"So Jemma," he said "you mentioned in your letters that you are not from Minnesota. What on earth would have propelled you to move to the freezing north?"
She chuckled at that and it was a melodious sound to his ear. "Adventure and change," was her only response.
"And have you found it here? Last I check this place wasn't as adventurous as the south."
"Adventure is relative I guess," she said and her brows furrowed ever so slightly as she became consumed by thought. "I guess what most appealed to me was change."
"Did you hate the South that much?"
"Oh no!" She exclaimed. "I loved Texas and the Collard family I worked for-"
"Did you say Collard family?" He asked in shock.
"Yes," she said hesitantly, frowning at the smile that creased his face.
"As in Adam and Lenard Collard who recently married Jenny from Georgia?"
"Yes!" She exclaimed. "I grew up on the Collard ranch and Jenny is my best of friends. A sweet and kind hearted woman she is."
John felt like all the chips had fallen into place. "I met Lenard in the war shortly before he was injured and I have just come back from a visit with them. Jenny is indeed a sweet soul."
She smiled at him. "A very small world it is."
John reached across the table to take her hand in his and for a moment the others seated at the table did not exist. It was just them and the strength of a deepening connection. "Nothing in life is ever merely a coincidence and I would be honoured if you will be my bride."
"B-but you barely know me," Jemma stuttered.
He smiled assuredly at her. "Lenard told me just days ago, not to cry over lost love, because when it is real it is undeniable."
Jemma blushed and a tear escaped her eye. "That is the sweetest thing anyone has ever said to me."
"And I mean every word. Will you do me the honour of becoming my wife Jemma Fair?"
She looked him in the eye and beneath the tears that threatened to break their borders he saw love and hope. "Yes," she whispered much to Megan's delight.
And just like that it was settled. The rest of the dinner followed by in Megan's excited chatter as she appointed herself wedding planner and proceeded unhindered. Jemma didn't speak much for the rest of the night but her happy glow was all the silent words he needed.
***
It was an autumn wedding in the late afternoon. The area faced the breath-taking sunset and at the end of each seated aisle, jasmine scented candles hung from naked tree branches. It was a tear-jerking sight with white rose petals scattered across the vast expanse of the lawn. Spread down the aisle was white leaves, as far as the eyes could see, slightly moist so they wouldn’t crack when they were walked on and on each seat were two roses, one red and one black. Jemma did not even bother asking Emily where she got black roses from.
Even Jenny and Lenard came to town much to her delight. It was an extravagant affair that ended with vows so beautiful it made her eyes tear up and her heart swell with the great possibilities that existed in her future. She was happy and hopeful and John’s emotions matched hers at every turn.
The next week passed by in a happy blur. She enjoyed Jenny’s company, saw Little Jake’s firs steps, bonded even more with Megan and played diplomat to the kitchen staff whom her Auntie Jasmine kept bossing around. When she piled them all in two carriages a month later to go back to their lives she could not keep the tears in. They all promised to visit her as often as she could and Megan said she would be back if they had a job for her. John promised she could wo
rk in any of his businesses and stay with them as long as she wanted but she was not used to such charity and promised she would be back if and when she could find another place to stay as reasonable as the one she now had.
It was a sad day to see them go, but John didn’t leave her alone long enough for her to be down in the dumps about it. He took her to work with him every day and between the laughs and discussions she met more people than she could remember off hand, learnt so much about the businesses than she ever thought he would include her in. She was happy and she fell in love with him with each day that passed.
“Are you okay?” Clive asked her one evening as she sat in the foyer sipping a glass of wine and watching the sun set over the mountains.
She patted the seat next to her. “I am okay, and how are you doing?”
He smiled at her. “I owe you an apology. You are everything I have ever hoped he would find in a wife and I am sorry I insulted your humble beginnings to start with.”
“I have already forgiven you Clive. I know you meant no harm.”
He breathing eased a bit and she could feel him relax. That was where they sat in silence until he excused himself to bed and she followed soon after. When she crawled in beside a sleeping John he informed her that the following week he had forgotten that he had agreed to host his friend and ex-fiancé Emma at the house while her parents visited. She had recently lost her husband and the place she now lived with her children was not big enough. It was a huge commitment that Jemma would have preferred they spoke about before he had agreed. Nevertheless she gave him a kiss and snuggled up to him to sleep. They could discuss it come morning...or at least that was the plan.
***
It didn’t quite work out that way and before she knew it, it was a week later and Emma whom she had only met briefly once while they were in town, was moving in for a week log stay with her mother.
“Ahhh John!” the elder woman whose name was Cynthia exclaimed as she walked into the house with a flourish. “You are still as good looking as ever, what lovely babies you and my Emma would have bore.”
[2016] A Bride's Journey Page 28
