Brides of the West-Part One

by Hestand, Rita

  The man waited for Buck to empty his pockets and was somewhat disturbed that he had no real cash on him. He looked at her.

  "You two better come up with something or I'm gonna kill you dead for nothing." The man said pointing the gun at her head now.

  Buck moved toward her protectively. "I've got some jewelry if you care to take that." Rachel offered.

  "Get it." The man prompted her.

  Rachel scrambled for her suitcase attached to the mule. She unloaded it and began scrambling through her stuff. When the man looked at Buck, she retrieved a gun and pointed it at him, cocking it.

  "Now you go away and leave us alone," Rachel said, struggling to her feet and moving toward Buck once more. She handed him the gun.

  Buck look completely dumbfounded that Rach would have a gun, or have the guts to pull it out at this stranger.

  The man looked completely stunned. "I-I wasn't gonna hurt you. I just needed a grubstake is all…" The man tried to explain.

  Buck pointed the gun at the man, as he took it from Rachel. "Like the lady said, leave us alone. We don't have anything of value. I told you the truth, we are on our way to the preacher."

  The man began backing out of their camp. "Okay, okay, I believe you." Then he ran into the woods and disappeared.

  "Well now, I underestimated you. I never figured you would pull a gun." Buck stared at her.

  She was shaking like a leaf in the wind and he went toward her. "I didn't come completely unprepared for what I might run into."

  "It's alright now. He's gone. He wasn't much of a robber, I'll say that." He reassured her.

  "Does this kind of thing often happen?" Rachel asked as she slumped against a tree and grabbed at her chest.

  "Up here, yeah. Like I told you before there are a lot of desperate people in these mountains. But that one was pretty harmless. Probably the first time he's tried to rob someone."

  "How far to the preacher's place?" She asked, controlling herself.

  "We'll be there in the morning." He said.

  She stared at him a long moment. "Then goodnight."

  That night she wrapped herself in her blanket and shivered from the cold. He apparently saw her and covered her with his own blanket. He was more acclimated to the weather it wouldn't bother him to sleep without a blanket one night.

  Chapter Four

  She woke up early the next morning. The ashes from the fire still smoldered. She noticed the blanket he had given her and she searched for him. He was tending the horses. Gathering sprigs of wood for the fire, she watched him out of the corner of her eye for a moment.

  After combing her straight dark red hair and washing her face in the creek, she went to look for him again.

  "Good morning." She said pushing her hair away from her face when she found him..

  "Did you sleep alright?" He asked.

  She stared at him with a smile. "Yes, yes I did. You…gave me your blanket, didn't you? That was uncommonly kind of you."

  "I didn't need it." He said looking at her over the saddle.

  "It's very chilly this morning." She shivered.

  "You get used to it after a while." He said.

  "Thank you, anyway, for the blanket. Want some coffee?" She asked.

  "That sounds good."

  She went back to the camp and took out the coffee from a saddlebag. Going to the creek just a few feet away, she filled the pot and put it on the fire. "It'll be ready, directly." She said when he walked back to camp.

  She covered herself with a blanket and sat about the fire cooking some fat back and flapjacks.

  He watched her. "You know something that surprises me is that you know how to cook outside and do for yourself. Where'd you learn that? I figured you for a city girl, unable to do most of that."

  She smiled and cast him a glance. "Looks can sometimes be deceiving, Buck. I wasn't always from Philadelphia. I was born in Arkansas. My father was in the military, working out of Little Rock. I lived there for fifteen years, with my folks. When my mother got sick from the Smallpox, my father resigned from the military and took a job in Philadelphia. Where he could provide a doctor for her. I learned most of what I know about the outdoors from him. I wish he'd never resigned. Mother was sick a long time and then died. He loved her very much and brooded for months afterwards. It was hard getting along with him, back then. But…I think I've missed living like we did."

  "I'm sorry about your mother." He said, glancing at her.

  "Thank you. I miss her…"

  "You didn't like Philadelphia?"

  "I don't know, I guess I never got used to the change. Father was good at anything he put his mind to. He even remarried. Sylvia was a proper lady, with good breeding and manners. But after they married, my father and I never got along again. Don't get me wrong, Sylvia was a nice lady in a lot of ways. But…she wanted me to be a proper lady, with breeding, like herself. She came from an old aristocratic family. Her and my father mapped out my entire life. As soon as I was old enough, I would work in the bank. Frank and I would marry, he would eventually take over Father's job and I would be well provided for all my life. You see, part of what I didn't like when we moved was that my father changed so drastically. Then when he married, and changed even more. He no longer remembered how our life had been, and I wouldn't forget."

  "Still, a girl must follow their parents…I suppose. But you didn't like what they were trying to do to you."

  "No…I didn't. No one wants their life planned out for them. Even God himself gives us a choice as to what we want to believe how we want to conduct ourselves. My father was an atheist. He didn't start out that way, but became one because of Sylvia. My mother was a Christian lady and raised me as such. We clashed over everything it seemed after that."

  "A what?"

  "He didn't believe in God. He was very upset when I joined the church on my own. Anything I did on my own upset him. And Sylvia too. I don't blame her, as much as my father. She was raised a certain way, naturally she believed a certain way. But she didn't tolerate my beliefs, and father didn't make her."

  "Your step-mother?"

  "Yes. I know I was quite the rebel. I know I should have tried harder to accept her. But I just couldn't do it. That's what intrigued me about Hershel's letters, he described the mountains so well, I wanted to see them for myself. I guess I have a sense of adventure in me that even Dad couldn't squelch. Did you read any of the letters I wrote?" She asked not looking directly at him.

  "Y-yeah. We read them together. He was always so excited when he heard from you, too." Buck injected.

  "Are you okay with standing in for him during the ceremony?" Rachel asked, facing him directly now.

  Buck shrugged and looked sheepishly at her. "I reckon so. If you're still a mind to do it that way. It seems a mighty strange way to start a marriage, though. Especially for a Christian girl."

  "You say that as though you think I'm making a mistake to do it this way. I see no other way to do it. It has to be done. Of course. I can't go up there and get snowed in for the winter and not be married to him, can I? I can't just live with the man." She asked innocently. "The wedding must be first, not last."

  "Oh yes ma'am, you can't." Buck agreed. "Are you figuring to wear that dress again?" He asked.

  She turned her head in question.

  "No, it would waste time. I'll wear what I have on." She served his breakfast and he poured himself another cup of coffee.

  "Now I really don't understand a woman like you. You show up at the station, dressed to wed, and now you think it would take too much time to dress up? Look, I wouldn't mind, if you wanted to." Buck muttered under his breath. "I mean I know women are sentimental about such things. You might want to reflect on it later on."

  Rachel had started to walk off until his words registered. Then she whirled around to look at him. "Alright then…I'll wear it. I just didn't want to make a fuss."

  "Hershel and me, we don't get much chance to see a woman in a dress like that.
It's as much a treat as a mountain is to you." He muttered again and walked off.

  She stared after him a long time. What a sweet thing for him to say. Buck seemed such a sweet man, she already liked him.

  Rachel watched him a long time. She wondered if Buck wrote the letters. If he did, had she fallen for the wrong man? She couldn't ask him though. Surely if he wanted her to know, he'd tell her.

  About mid-morning, they stopped at a cabin. It was a large cabin, looked like a tavern or something, it was so big. As they walked in they saw a long bar, tables and a fiddler playing a merry song. Toward the back was the house where the parson lived, Buck had explained.

  Buck ordered a whiskey at the bar, and her a cider and the preacher walked out. He was a tall man that had to stoop to get through the doorways with short white whiskers and a laugh that sounded like a bobcat.

  "So Buck, you ornery cuss, what brings you up this way?" The Parson asked eyeing Rachel with curiosity.

  "Taking the lady up to see Hershel. This is his bride or gonna be. That's why we stopped off. She wants to do one of those marriage by proxy things. You know what I'm talking about?" Buck asked as he slapped his friend on the back.

  "Marriage by proxy, oh yeah, sure I do. Get a lot of them up this way. You gonna stand in for Hershel?"

  "That's the plan. Oh excuse me, Rach, this is Parson Lowell Powell."

  The parson nodded and looked at Rachel. "If you'd like to change you can, my wife's back there in the back and she'll help you."

  Rachel looked bewildered. "Are we going to do it now?"

  Buck shrugged. "I guess no use putting it off."

  "Oh…well, alright. I'll go change then." She glanced around at everyone that was smiling at her.

  "Go ahead, Rachel." Buck encouraged her.

  "Right this minute…" She asked.

  "Sure, go on. We'll get it done."

  "Are you going to clean up a bit too?" She looked at him and his dusty clothes.

  "Sure, sure I will…" He frowned.

  ~*~

  Rachel went down a long hall and found a plump little woman cooking something that smelled heavenly on the stove. Her hair was a warm brown and tied back in a knot with whisks of gray about her face. Her eyes twinkled a bright blue.

  "Well, what have we here?" She asked as she turned herself to look at Rachel.

  "My name is Rachel, and I'm trying to get married today. I wanted to change my clothes."

  "Of course, come, I'll show you where to change out of those clothes. If you need any help, just holler. My name is Willa Powell. Who's the groom?"

  "I'm marrying by proxy, but Buck Daggett is standing in for Hershel Newton."

  "Hershel!" She nearly shouted. "You're marrying him?"

  It was the way she said that. It had Rachel rethinking the whole thing again. Maybe she was doing the wrong thing. She really needed to see Hershel and talk to him first. But how could she manage that? Everything about this wedding began to make her squeamish. So many aghast when they heard she was marrying Hershel. They weren't waiting to talk to the preacher, they were just going to do it. She was flustered beyond belief, but she knew if she went up the mountain, it could be worse without the benefit of a marriage.

  "Y-yes, is there some reason I shouldn't?" She asked innocently.

  Willa looked her up and down then shook her head. "No, no reason."

  "Thank you…" Rachel smiled.

  "When you get it on, holler, I'll help you button it up." Willa smiled at her. "Tell me, have you known Hershel long?"

  "Well, not exactly, no. I mean, we've corresponded for a long time, but I've never met the man. I guess that sounds kind of funny to you, doesn't it?"

  "It explains a lot…" The woman left with a most perplexed look.

  When left alone, Rachel looked about the room and admired the shiny logs that stuck out at the corners. It was well constructed and very pretty. This house was built with love and care. Maybe someday Hershel would build her a house this grand after he realized what a good wife she intended being.

  She found a small closet with a nail just the side of it. She got her dress out of her bag and hung it up.

  Slowly she poured herself some wash water and used the clean rag she found on the dresser. After cleaning up, she put her dress on and went to look at herself in the mirror.

  Staring at herself once more with the dress on, she begin to have some doubts about the wisdom of her decision to marry Hershel. She really didn't know him at all. She didn't know if they would get along. She didn't know if she'd like living in such an isolated country. And she didn't understand her own hesitation.

  "Boy I hope I know what I'm doing…" She said aloud, then glanced around to make sure no one heard her.

  She couldn't and wouldn't think on it too much. Because it wouldn't take much to talk her out of the whole thing right now. When she looked at her options, she realized she had none. She was basically on her own, if she didn't marry Hershel. She'd have to find some form of employment to support herself. For she couldn't dare go home and be humiliated.

  She took part of her hair down in the back and made a few curls on top her head. Then Willa came in with flowers for her hair. She pinned them in and looked in the mirror at her.

  "Beautiful…" She grabbed her chest. "Now, let's get these buttons closed up."

  "Thank you…" Rachel blushed.

  "You are gonna make a beautiful bride…" Willa grabbed a hankie from her dress pocket and started to walk out the door. "But you are too lovely for the likes of Hershel. I never thought he'd settle down and get married. Oh well, best of luck to you."

  Rachel glanced in the mirror one more time. What was she doing? Did she really know? She probably knew Buck better than Hershel, but she was about to marry Hershel, sight unseen. She remembered all the warnings her folks had given her about doing the right thing, waiting for the right man. Well, she had waited, she was not that young anymore. At twenty-three, she was nearly old maid material. She sighed heavily.

  When she went out to the bar area, it had been cleared. A piano was to one side, and chairs were placed all around so they could witness the marriage. Everyone was busy making the place look as nice as possible.

  She wondered if they did this every time a couple came to get married.

  In some small way, she wished her father was here to walk her down the aisle. But he would never approve of doing something so wild.

  There seemed to be a throng of people gathered about, all smiling and happy for her.

  Buck was standing near a corner, talking to the preacher.

  "Now, I need your full names." The pastor asked him.

  Rachel came right up to the parson, "Rachel Lee Ann Landers."

  The preacher looked at her and his mouth fell open. "Well, you are about the prettiest thing we've had up this way in a long time."

  Buck was smiling too. "She sure is…" Buck found himself staring at her, his heart in his throat. He couldn't talk for a full minute.

  "Buck, what's your name….? I mean you real name?" The parson asked as he was about to record them on the license.

  "My real name is Hank Buckston Daggett. But you don't need my name, you need Hershel's…" He began as the preacher wrote it down and walked away.

  Buck shrugged and watched him take his place. He followed him.

  Rachel stood for a moment in the corner and took a deep breath. "I can do this…" she muttered to herself.

  The piano player played several sweet ballads, then the parson directed her to walk down the aisle with one of the men that had been drinking at the bar. He wasn't drunk at least, Rachel realized. He took her arm gently and folded into his.

  "Ain't never been in a wedding…" The man told her. He was a rather distinguished looking man and she liked him right away. He was tall and stout and clean shaven.

  She walked regally down the aisle until she came to where the parson and Buck waited.

  The man turned loose of her arm and she joined Buck.


  Rachel noticed how handsome Buck looked. Someone must have loaned him a suit and his hair was combed nicely into place.

  "Now we are gathered here in the site of God and all you good folks to bring this man and this woman together in holy matrimony..."

  Buck leaned and muttered something under his breath to the parson, but the parson was so wound up with the ceremony he wasn't paying attention. He continued to read and before either of them knew it, he was pronouncing them man and wife.

  "You may kiss the bride now!" The parson instructed Buck, who looked baffled.

  Rachel turned to him, and puckered a bit, and before he knew what he was doing, his arms came around her and their lips met in a stormy sea of emotions. Buck had never kissed a woman like her before. Her lips seemed to melt right into his, so soft, and he instantly gentled himself with her. Remembering what a lady she was he kissed her as tenderly as he could. When he pulled away and saw her shocked face, he whispered. "We got to make it look real, don’t we?"

  "Oh…yes…" her voice was soft and shaky.

  He reached for her arm and tucked it in his and they walked down the aisle while everyone whistled and hollered and whooped.

  Despite their crudeness, Rachel was smiling.

  Willa grabbed Rachel when Buck went back to the bar for a drink.

  "Come here honey. I wanted to tell you we reserved the honeymoon suite for you tonight." She looked so excited for her.

  Rachel shook her head. "Oh…no, that won't be necessary, we'll be leaving as soon as I change my clothes."

  "But you can't!" Willa insisted.

  "Why not?"

  "It is snowing. And it will be dark soon, you must stay the night and leave in the morning. It's all arranged." Willa announced.

  Rachel was beside herself with worry now. She wasn't married to Buck, and they expected them to sleep together.

  But when she saw the honeymoon suite she was enticed, especially with that big feather bed. After the trip here, she was ready for the comforts of home. Buck would just have to find himself other arrangements.