by Caryl McAdoo
Oh, Reagan! Why did you have to get snakebit?
“Mister Harrell . . .”
“Corbin, please. I love how my Christian name rolls off your lips.”
“Fine, Corbin.” Why was her heart pattering? Why was she even considering his ridiculous proposal? “I'll promise you that I will pray about that, and I’ll . . . uh . . .” How long would it be before they reached Texas? “I'll give you my answer once we're in the Republic.”
“That's good.” He nodded twice then slapped his leg with his hat. “Fair enough. Did Izzy give you the new bottle of sleep medicine I sent?”
“No.” She shook her head. “But thank you kindly, sir.” She smiled then eased up a bit before she veered off to Mallory's wagon. Her friend and Alicia worked on the dress. Liberty climbed aboard and found her a soft seat on a sack of seeds.
“You're going to be one fine-looking bride, sweetheart. Flynn is mighty blessed.”
The girl looked up and grinned. “Thank you, Mam. I'm so excited, it’s a wonder I can sew at all.”
Liberty held out her hand. “Here, let me do that. Gabby’s driving her father's wagon, and Izzy is relieving me. Why don't you take a break?”
Alicia looked from her to her mother then grinned. “I can tell when I'm not wanted.”
Mallory laughed then threw a nod to the back of the wagon. “Don't be gone too long. I want you to try this on before we attach the bodice to the skirt.”
Liberty turned her back to Seve then in hushed tones told her friend all that Corbin had just said.
Mallory looked toward the front then leaned in even closer. “Lib! Why didn't you tell him no right off?”
“I wanted to, I intended to, but . . . it was strange, Mal. Seemed almost like the Lord held my tongue. First off, Izzy could be free were I to agree. You know I'd see to that. And we're talking a lot of extra land.
“I tell you true, Mallie, the man’s soul has been weighing heavy on my heart. I’ve been praying fervently for his salvation.”
Her friend leaned back and looked deep into her eyes. She shook her head before getting close again. “What aren’t you telling me?”
Shrugging like there wasn’t anything else, she knew full well there was. And Christians are to confess their sins one to another. With Reagan gone, there’d be no one else she trusted as much to keep her secret and offer sound advice.
Besides, Mallory obviously already knew something wasn't just right. Only probably not exactly what she thought—the strange connection between her and Mister Harrell. But Liberty kept quiet about the hard liquor.
Maybe another day.
Everything else was discussed though, every thread of her proposal, Corbin Harrell's character, and Izzy's freedom, then the upcoming wedding, the bridal gown and the green velvet ribbon she’d bought as a surprise for the collar to match Alicia's beautiful green eyes.
That night, alone with just her thoughts, she pulled Corbin’s gift out from under the stack of quilts where she’d stowed it.
Did she dare? She was so tired, but not the least bit sleepy. What had happened to her? Before Reagan, she never had any trouble falling off into the kind nothingness of sleep. She’d snuggled up next to him then the next thing she knew . . .
A new day dawned.
He’d been the one who had trouble getting there, and she always beat him up and had his coffee ready and waiting.
No, she'd save it. She stuck the bottle back into its hiding place and got the journal box out. Did she ever have plenty to report! She caught up the first day of the month, then started on that day.
Day Eighteen
Friday, October 2, 1840
Seve figures we're fifteen miles from the Arkansas River. He talked to a local man a couple of hours before we camped and is determined for an early start come morning. I found the perfect scripture!
~ + ~
“Rise ye up, take your journey, and pass over the river.” Deuteronomy 2:24, first sentence
She reached to dip her quill then pulled back. What a day.
Of their own her eyes closed. Who knew how long later, she jerked awake.
Sleep! She’d fallen asleep.
Quickly corking the ink bottle, she scooted it all to the side. She could put everything away in the morning. She snuffed the light and cuddled next to Charity Grace.
“Oh, Lord, please let me sleep through.”
When her lantern’s glow ended, Corbin pulled his flask out, sipped a little, then gulped a full shot. Been a great day. She hadn’t said no like he’d figured she would. He planned on wearing her down all the way to Texas.
But what a boon! She hadn't said no.
If he had it right, first off she went to tell Miss Mallory everything he’d said and discussed the matter with her friend.
A good thing, right?
He remembered his promise to her and looked skyward.
“Lord, You up there? Listening to anyone? So, uh, if you are, give me this fine woman, then we'll be square.”
Chapter Twenty-two
After making camp on the bank of the Arkansas River, a unanimous vote sent Flynn and Laud across what appeared to be knee-high water to see if they might find Mister Bryant about town.
After what turned out to be more like a waist-high wade through the chilly river, Flynn, dripping wet, walked beside his uncle on the opposite bank. The closer he got to town, the dryer her got, but he hated walking in squishing boots.
When the man climbed the steps to the boarded walk in front of the Double Star Saloon, he paused his following for a moment. What would Mam think about him darkening the door of such an establishment?
What could he do but cold trail his uncle inside? After all, he was a man, not a boy any more.
Once past the swinging half-doors, the cigar smoke stung his eyes and clogged his breath. The whiskey stench turned his stomach.
No wonder his mother hated any mention of his father working in such places. He wouldn't want to suffer such a fate. Poor Papa. Hadn't realized before what he'd gone through to provide for his family.
Was Flynn ready for that responsibility? Did any man about to take on a wife think he was ready?
Laud bellied up to the bar, and he eased up next to him.
Shortly, a man wearing garters on his sleeves with a dishtowel flung over his shoulder stood across from his uncle. “What can I do you for, gents?”
“Looking for a man named John Bryant? You know him?”
“Nope. You men drinking? Still got some beef stew, too, if you're interested.”
“Two beers. How about anyone who's been to Texas then, know someone?”
“Sure, plenty. That'll be a nickel each. The stew ain't bad if your stomach's empty.”
“Thanks, already ate.” Laud pulled a dime out of his vest pocket and set it on the bar. “Might you point out who that would be, friend?”
The man set two mugs under a spout then lowered its lever. Foamy amber liquid poured out, then the froth overflowed the mugs. The man grabbed a flat stick and scraped the head off the beers.
“Me for one. I been. Jude over there.” He pointed to a man sitting a table with a woman with tall purple feathers in her hair. “Him and me went last year. You two pilgrims?”
“Yes, sir. What can you tell us of the Republic?”
“Grand place. Wide open. I'm thinking about going back. President Lamar is on the warpath to drive the Indians out. Yes, sir. If only I was a farmer. Owning six hundred forty acres is appealing, but . . .”
Someone shouted. The man looked down the bar. “Be right there.” He threw a nod to the far corner. “Talk to Jude. He's been all over Texas.”
“Thanks.” Laud who hadn't touched his beer, grabbed the handle and headed toward the man, picking his way through the crowded room. Flynn got his beer and, on the way, over, took a sip. Nasty tasting stuff. How could anyone pay good money for such?
“You Jude?”
The man leaned his chair back. “That be me. And who might
you two be?”
“Laud Worley.” His uncle extended his hand toward the fellow. “And this is Flynn O'Neal. Bartender said you've been to Texas?”
“Sure enough. You men farmers?”
“We are.” Laud nodded toward the empty chair. Flynn took it, touching the edge of his brim with a little head dip, acknowledging the lady who smiled. His uncle did the same. “Ma'am.”
“Pilgrim.”
“What are you drinking, Jude?”
“Whiskey if you're buying.”
“Be right back.”
Alicia was all ears while Laud mostly, but Flynn some too, told their tale.
After the narrative slowed, her pa spoke up. “So, this Jude thinks we should go to the frontier. He positive about the Rangers building forts?”
“Says so. Heard from this captain he knows. The farther west, the fewer the settlers. And according to him, the Rangers have driven all the Indians out farther west.”
Though knowing full well, she should hold her peace, Alicia just couldn't stand it. “Did you ask him about a single man only getting half the acres?”
Laud looked right at her then grinned. “Yes, ma'am, we sure did. Him and the barkeep both said the same thing about a fourth-class headright, six forty for a family man, three twenty for a bachelor.”
“Good. So it was true.” She stood and extended her hand toward Flynn. “Did you find a preacher? It isn't that late.”
Her mother jumped to her feet and wrapped an arm around Alicia's shoulder. “Yes, darling, it certainly is too late for this day, and we'll do it right when the clan is all on the other side of the Arkansas. So sit yourself right back down.”
Not one muscle in her wanted to sit, but she did as told. “Fine, but . . .” She gave Flynn her best don't-cross-me look. “No reason to wait any longer after that, right? And we're crossing tomorrow, right?”
With a grin as big as Texas, he nodded. “Yes, ma'am. No more waiting. Lord willing, tomorrow we wed.” He looked to her mother, eyes widened.
“I mean if you ladies have everything ready.” He turned to her pa. “And only with your blessing of course, Uncle Seve.”
“Guess it’ll be Pa from now on if you’re of a mind, Son. Couldn’t imagine me holding up this wedding one second longer than necessary.” He laughed and raised both eyebrows to Ma Van Zandt then Alicia.
“Yes, sir.”
“I live with these two. I'll not be holding back my blessing. I've prayed and am convinced you'll do right by my treasure.”
“And I’m just Ma, I hope. The dress is ready, and my daughter certainly is.”
Somehow, praise the Lord, she finally dozed off, but it had to be so late. Pa had taken his turn standing his watch then came back to the wagon before she drifted off. Then she awoke before the boy's rooster went to crowing.
Hurry up, sun!
Come on!
Up with you!
Brighten the sky!
The dawning of her wedding day!
What date would her anniversary be, anyway? She counted it up, but decided it'd be best to double check with Mam. Sunday for sure, she knew that much, and after her figuring, thought the fourth of October sounded right.
A great day to get married, indeed!
They ferried across the river first thing, then found a good camp spot on the far side of town before the sun showed over the treetops. The whole clan—except for Mister Harrell, but Gabby and Izzy came—made it back to the Presbyterian church for services that morning.
She wore her blue dress and Ma carried the beautiful wedding dress wrapped in a sheet.
Pa stepped up and spoke with the minister before the services began.
After his sermon, as soon as the man greeted the last of his congregation at the door, he strolled back up the aisle, beaming. “Who am I marrying this fine day?”
“I’m the groom, sir. Reagan Flynn O’Neal.” His voice cracked, and he cleared his throat. Poor guy twirled his hat by its brim, looking as nervous as a treed coon. “And this is my bride, Alicia Joy Van Zandt.”
She stepped forward and bowed her head in front of the minister then looked him right in the eye. “Thank you, sir, for making my dreams come true. Should I go get ready now?”
The lady who'd played the organ stood from her place on the first pew. “Yes, dear. Come with me, and I'll show you where you may change.”
Ma, Mam, and Gabby made it an official parade, leaving the men in the sanctuary. Butterflies swarmed her stomach.
The lady turned out to be the minister's wife and went to describing how it all usually went, asking all along the way if Alicia wanted anything different. While she talked, everyone started undressing her and unwrapping her wedding gown then helping with extra petticoats.
“Oh, Ma. They'll make it so beautiful. When did you . . . how . . .?”
“Don't you be concerned about our little surprises. You can thank your Aunt Esther for these though.”
Leaning over with her hands clasped high, Gabby and Mam held the lovely dress over her head as if she was diving in. They worked it down over her bodice then the petticoats.
Someone went to buttoning the hundred buttons along the back seam. She looked down at the full skirt standing out like a princess's and gently ironed it with her flat palms.
“Oh, it's so beautiful. Thank you, Ma.” She turned to Flynn's mother. “And you, too, Mam.”
Her mother's eyes filled with tears. “You look so beautiful. My little girl's all grown up.”
Gabby grinned. “Sit, sit, sit. I brought my hairpins for you to borrow. I'll put it up for you, if you want.”
“That'd be perfect.”
Just before her friend got the last curl in place, a rap sounded on the door. The minister's wife opened it. Izzy held a bouquet of wild flowers and a little box with extras.
“Your Pa sent me after these, Miss Lesha. He say maybe you'd like to put the extras in your hair or Miss Mallory and Miss Liberty could pin them on theys dresses if you don't.”
“Oh, how thoughtful of Seve!” Mam took them from her. “They're beautiful, Izzy, just lovely. Would you like to come in?”
“No, no, ma'am, there be plenty ins there already. I'll be waiting out in the church, helping Miss Esther with the baby girls.”
Holding her hands out to her side, Alicia twirled. “Am I ready? Is there a mirror?”
“Yes, yes, of course, dear.” The minister's wife opened a door, and on its inside, a full-length looking glass hung.
Stepping in front of it, she got the first glimpse of herself as a bride. She gasped, and her heart rose into her throat, choking her.
“Wow. I look so pretty. The dress is . . .” She stepped closer to the door. “Ma.” She ran her fingers over the green velvet ribbon at her neck. “When did you add this?”
“On the sly.” Her mother's eyes sparkled. “I thought it was so pretty and would bring out your green eyes. Do you like it?”
“I love it. It's perfect. Everything is perfect.”
“And here's my surprise.” Mam unwrapped a fine circle of delicate lace. “Your veil.”
“Oh, Mam. I love it.” She ducked, and her mother-to-be placed its center over her hair. She straightened and checked the mirror again. A tear escaped, and she wiped it quickly. “Thank you, Mam. You two thought of everything!”
“You're most welcome, dear. Charity Grace helped me pick it out.”
Hardly able to believe the beautiful young woman in the mirror grinning back from the looking glass was truly her, she twirled once more.
“Now come on, everyone! While I really love being the bride, what I want to be most in the world is Flynn's wife! Let's go get me married!”
With her entourage holding her hem up, the women all slipped out a back door then walked around to the front of the church building where her pa waited.
The ladies all fussed over her, making sure everything was perfect, then suddenly disappeared, leaving her and Pa out there alone. He offered his arm, and she
entwined hers through and over his.
“Alisha.” He looked down, patting her hand that rested on his arm. “This is one of the hardest things I've ever done . . . giving you away to another man. But I know it's meant to be. Be true to him. Honor and submit your will to his, and God will greatly bless your union. As I do, except even more.”
“I will, Pa. Thank you.”
The organ started playing the chords the sweet lady had told her about.
“It's time, Pa.”
“Hope I can walk. My knees are shaking.”
Suited Corbin to stay with the wagons, even if Izzy chose to go. The only wedding he wanted to attend was his own.
Exactly as Miss Esther had asked, he kept the cook-fire burning, and the beans stirred. She had yeast rolls made and ready, but said to wait on those, that she'd have time once everyone returned to get them just right.
He did love the lady's light bread. Shame he didn't have some maple syrup, but the pear preserves were tasty enough.
Did Texas have any maple trees? Or pear for that matter?
The clan with the newlyweds out front, walking arm in arm finally showed half-past hungry.
Like a normal day, Miss Esther with the others—save Alicia, they all insisted she sit—went to cooking. He threw the bride a nod. “Mis'ess O'Neal, so glad to meet you.”
She laughed. “Why thank you, Mister Harrell. Good to meet you too, sir.”
Flynn eased down next to his new wife, kissed her on the cheek, then grinned at him. “Thank you for watching over things, Corbin.”
“You're welcome. So how does being married fit?”
“Great. It's wonderful.”
Though not the feast one would expect for a wedding, Miss Esther did put a nice chunk of jerky on everyone's plate, plus she'd roasted the last of the corn and smashed up some right tasty spuds. Filling for sure.
Shame no one broke out a bottle to toast the newlyweds, but then other than Miss Liberty, he didn't figure any of the rest imbibed much if at all.
Kisses and hugs and handshakes and back slaps sent the new mister and mis'ess back to the hotel room her pa arranged, then camp got pretty much back to normal. After helping with the stock, he returned to the cook-fire where Miss Liberty sat her rocker, staring into the flames. He took the seat across from her.
