by Davis, Mary
The first note of the wedding march startled him. The door at the back of the church opened. Barney Crawford proudly escorted his niece down the aisle. Lucas realized she had a specific reason for wearing that white linen dress today. A piece of lace covering her head and face served as a veil. Since there were no flowers in bloom yet, her bouquet was a nicely done bundle of white ribbons and lace.
The woman coming down the aisle would be his wife now and forever. Should he really do this? She was sweet, and he could see she had gone to a lot of trouble since her change of heart last night. But then, he, too, had gone through a lot of trouble to come all this way for her. He hoped he was doing the right thing.
Lord, right or wrong, please bless this marriage.
❧
Cinda tried to calm the butterflies swarming in her stomach. This was it. She couldn’t—wouldn’t—back out now. She was really getting married. To think, three days ago she had never even heard of Lucas Rawlings, and now their lives would be forever entwined.
The ceremony rushed by in a blur. Lucas placed an aged silver wedding band on her finger. Her stomach danced at the thought it could be a family heirloom.
When Pastor Cooke said, “You may kiss the bride,” she drew in a quick breath. She knew this was coming. She had been to weddings before. The groom usually grabbed his bride and kissed her passionately. Once she even saw one groom who kissed his young bride for a whole minute while his friends whooped it up. The poor girl was red-faced before he let her go.
Lucas lifted the veil, put his finger under her chin to lift her face, and softly pressed his lips to hers. The tingling started at her lips where they touched and spread like wildfire throughout her body. She hadn’t expected such gentleness from this large man. Much to her surprise, she found she liked his tender kiss.
❧
Cinda stood on the train platform with her friends and family.
Eve waved a gloved hand in the air. “I can’t believe you got to the altar before I did. I had better hurry up or I’ll be the only one not married. Can you imagine me an old maid?” Eve giggled.
Vivian shook her head and rolled her eyes. She gave Cinda a quick hug and whispered in her ear, “You take good care of our Lucas.”
Cinda wanted to laugh but settled for a smile.
Allison handed Cinda her copy of the American Frugal Housewife. “All my favorite recipes are marked.”
“I can’t take your cookbook.”
Allison leaned into her so only she could hear. “You need it more than I do.”
Cinda took a deep breath. “What am I going to do?”
“You’ll do great. Just don’t worry about it.”
“Thank you, Allison. Good-bye, David, Eve, Vivian. I’m going to miss you all.” Cinda turned to her aunt and uncle who were waiting a few feet away.
Aunt Ginny handed her several envelopes bundled together, each containing a different type of vegetable seed. “Here. You should plant a garden right away.”
“Thank you.” Cinda gave her aunt a quick peck on the cheek.
Her aunt had a shrewd look on her face and gave her head a little shake. “I hope you don’t regret your hasty decision.”
Cinda noticed a sad expression skim across her uncle’s face as he looked at his wife.
“All aboard!” the conductor yelled.
Lucas put his hand on the small of her back. “We need to get going.”
Cinda kissed her uncle on the cheek and hugged him. “Good-bye, Uncle Barney. I’ll miss you most.”
“I’ll miss you, too, Sweetheart. You’re like my very own daughter.” He couldn’t keep a tear from falling to his cheek and quickly brushed it away.
Cinda’s tears cascaded down her cheeks as Lucas assisted her onto the train. She kept turning her head away trying to hide the tears. Her lacy handkerchief wasn’t sufficient enough to capture all the moisture.
Lucas pulled out his and handed it to her. “If you’re going to have a proper cry, you need a proper handkerchief.”
“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to cry all over the place.” She sniffled. “I’m just going to miss everyone.”
“My mother used to say, ‘If you don’t let the tears free, they will singe your heart until you have no feelings left.’ ” He pointed his finger and shook it in the air at an invisible person and said in a false voice, “ ‘You can’t rightly be human without feelings now, can you?’ ”
She took the handkerchief with a smile, but somehow she didn’t feel like crying any more.
nine
After the train was underway, the conductor came by to check for tickets. While Lucas showed their tickets, Cinda rested her head and closed her eyes for a second. The events of the past three days had caught up to her.
“Are you all right? Is anything wrong?”
Lucas’s concerned voice woke her. The conductor was just passing. She hadn’t realized it possible for a person to fall asleep that fast. “I’m fine. I’m just tired. I was up all night packing and getting ready.”
Lucas’s concerned look softened. “Rest your head on my shoulder.” He wrapped his arm around her slender shoulders and drew her close.
Cinda knew she should protest. A lady never slept in public. But she was exhausted. She would rest her tired eyes for a few minutes; there would be no harm in that.
❧
As his new bride drifted off to sleep, her hand slipped from her lap to his. Startled by the sudden touch, he realized she was already asleep. He wrapped his big callused hand around her slender, feminine one. He wasn’t sure how he would feel about the added responsibility of a wife. It surprised him that he kind of liked it. Had he made the right decision? Was this really the only solution? It was the only one he could think of at the time. He still couldn’t think of a better one. It was now done, and he would do what he could to make her happy. He gently squeezed her hand.
❧
Cinda descended from the train, relieved to be off of it. Two days of rattling around on a train had made her joints sore. “How many more days will it take to get to your farm?”
“Our farm,” Lucas corrected. “We should be at our farm the day after tomorrow if all goes well.”
“If all goes well?”
“Sometimes travel out west can be. . .unpredictable.”
Unpredictable? Just what did that mean?
She was glad to hear they wouldn’t catch the stagecoach until the morning. The worst of the trip was over, she hoped. They stood at the front desk of a local hotel.
“One room, Sir.” The desk clerk confirmed Lucas’s request while pointing at the register book.
Lucas, poised to sign, suddenly turned to Cinda. “Unless you would prefer two? I have money enough for separate rooms.”
She looked up into his caring face and saw understanding in his blue eyes. It was still difficult to get used to having to look up to him.
“This isn’t that kind of hotel,” the desk clerk said sharply. “We don’t rent rooms to unmarried couples.”
Lucas ignored the clerk’s curt remark, patiently waiting her reply.
She was his wife; he was her husband. There was no point in wasting money or putting off the inevitable. “One room will be fine,” she replied softly.
Lucas studied her a moment before turning back to the registry, signing their names, Mr. and Mrs. Lucas Rawlings. He plucked the key from the speechless clerk, and they headed up the stairs with their bags.
He knew he should have automatically suggested they get two rooms until they knew each other better, but he wanted to make her completely his before. . .things. . .got difficult. The more he had to tie her to himself, the more she would feel as though she belonged with him. He wouldn’t have pressed if she wanted separate rooms, but she had agreed to one. As it was, they lay in bed next to each other and did nothing more than sleep.
❧
Lucas and Cinda took the last two seats on the crowded stagecoach. After an hour of bouncing and rocking along, Cinda c
oncluded this was definitely worse than the constant rumblings of the train. Lucas seemed unaffected by the jouncing and kept his arm securely around her to keep her from bouncing off the seat.
As the morning wore on, the road got bumpier. She would rattle to pieces if this kept up. The jarring made it impossible to have any kind of conversation. Everyone sat in silence, if you could call the knocking and banging silence.
“You can trade seats with me, Ma’am,” offered a heavyset man with dark hair and a full face of whiskers. He wore a business suit and sat in the front seat that faced the rear of the coach. “It’s a little less bumpy up here.”
Cinda’s eyes widened with hope. Less bumpy sounded wonderful.
“No thank you, Sir,” Lucas answered before Cinda could accept. “We’ll stay put.”
How dare he speak for her! She wasn’t a child. Didn’t he realize how uncomfortable she was? Besides she was offered the seat, not him. “But Lucas—” she started to argue, then decided a full stagecoach wasn’t the proper place to question her new husband. She would suffer for now and discuss it with him later. She hadn’t thought she might be going from Aunt Ginny telling her what to do to another.
Lucas pointed to the slender blond man also seated in the front. “Most people get sick riding backward.”
Cinda stared at the peaked man just as he lunged for the window and heaved his breakfast. She looked up at Lucas. “Oh.”
Lucas shrugged his shoulders. “Change if you think your stomach can handle it.”
Cinda raised her eyebrows. “I–I think I’ll stay put.” She realized Lucas wasn’t trying to treat her like a child but was protecting her from further discomfort.
Just then the coach tipped down on one of the front corners and came to an abrupt halt. Everyone piled out. A wheel had broken. After the driver and the rest of the men helped in the repairs, they were on their way.
It was only a quarter of an hour before they stopped at a station for lunch and to change the team. The driver would only allow a fifteen-minute stop. They had lost much time with the broken wheel.
At the station they were served a barely palatable meal. Cinda could only choke down half a biscuit at Lucas’s insistence. Getting back on the stage held little appeal, but she was glad they weren’t staying at the station longer than necessary. She just wanted the trip to be over. She would have to endure this the remainder of today and again tomorrow.
The stage went faster than it had in the morning, while the ride got rougher and bumpier. She feared the coach would shake apart. Cinda noticed Lucas’s grip grow tighter around her. She wondered if the jolting trip was finally getting to this strong, seemingly calm man next to her.
Since they had stopped for food and fresh horses, the old lady in the back had repeated in agony, “We be over. We be over.” The woman’s words grated on Cinda’s nerves. She also wished for the ride to be over. When Cinda thought she couldn’t take any more of the jarring, the coach teetered. Lucas wrapped both arms around her, cradling her protectively against himself and whispered, “Here we go.”
Cinda held on tightly and heard herself scream as the coach toppled over onto its side. They quickly came to a stop. The horses couldn’t drag the overturned coach far.
Lucas quickly pushed people off Cinda. “Are you all right? Are you hurt?” People were moaning and groaning all around them.
“I–I’m f–fine.” At least she thought so. She was not quite sure what had happened, but at least the bouncing had stopped.
“Is anyone hurt?” Lucas asked the whole group. The re-sponses were all negative.
Someone flung open the side door that was now on top, and the driver helped pull out the passengers. Lucas helped Cinda and the others before he climbed out.
Once outside, Lucas rushed over to Cinda. “Are you sure you’re not hurt?”
“I’m fine.” Cinda looked at him, amazed. “You knew the stagecoach was going to overturn.” She was both astonished and accusing. “Why didn’t you warn me?”
“It doesn’t always happen. I didn’t want to worry you un-necessarily. The trip is hard enough without worrying about that, too.”
He reached out to touch her, but she pulled away. Anger rose in her. How could he not warn her?
“If you’ve ever ridden a coach before, you would already know it could happen.” He lifted his shoulders slightly.
She glared at him.
“And if not,” he held his hands out palms up, “there is no sense worrying about it needlessly.”
Consoling her would do no good. She was too shaken and angry, as much at him as herself for letting it scare her so.
He looked uncomfortable and pointed back to the stage. “I should help the others right the coach so we can be on our way again.”
After the bone-jarring box was set on its wheels, Lucas came to escort Cinda.
“It’s time to get back on that thing, isn’t it?” Cinda sneered at the stage.
Lucas nodded with a sympathetic smile. “I’m sorry.”
“That was the most terrifying experience in my entire life. I will not soon forget it.” Cinda took a shuttered breath to keep the tears at bay and shook her finger at him. “And I’m mad at you for not warning me. I don’t like surprises.” She strode off in a huff, not really so much mad as scared.
They bumped and bounced along mile after mile. Three more people got sick, one inside the coach. But at least they stayed upright the remainder of the day. Cinda’s stomach had knotted from worry. Lucas had been right not to forewarn her. At least she had half a day with peace of mind. When they finally stopped in a town slightly larger than the one the night before, Cinda was so overwrought she could hardly stand, let alone think about food.
She clutched Lucas’s arm as she got off. “I can’t do that again.”
“You don’t have to.”
She looked up at him. “Really?” Didn’t they have another day of travel before they reached their destination? Relieved, she hung onto his arm, still unable to stand on her own.
“Really.” He smiled down at her. “We’ll take my wagon.”
Cinda snapped up straight and let go of him. “You had a wagon and made me ride on that awful stagecoach?” Why would he do that to her?
“I didn’t have a choice.” He held his hands out in front of him. “The axle broke on the way. If I had waited for it to be fixed, I would have been late in arriving at your place. I didn’t want you to think I wasn’t coming. I wanted to have the wagon waiting in town when we got off the train, but traveling out west is unpredictable.”
Cinda nodded. She was beginning to understand these unpredictabilities. “Lucas, are there any other surprises I should know about? I would like to prepare myself. There isn’t anything else you’re keeping from me, is there?”
Lucas raised his eyebrows but remained silent.
Cinda put her hands on her hips. “Is there anything else I should know about on this trip? Any more traveling unpredictabilities?”
“No. The wagon should be a better ride, and I promise not to turn the wagon over.” His smile asked for forgiveness.
They checked into the hotel for the night, but Cinda refused to eat. Her stomach was still in knots from the trip.
❧
Though they got only one room again, he let her go to sleep undisturbed. She was frazzled after her harrowing day. She needed sleep and looked so peaceful in her slumber. He hated to wake her for another day of travel.
She seemed better in the morning, and he was glad to see her eat a healthy breakfast.
The wagon was loaded with Cinda’s trunks, some food and water, blankets, and a few tools. Cinda hesitated, staring at the wagon, when Lucas reached out his hand to help her aboard. “You promise this will be better?”
Lucas smiled. “I promise. We can stop whenever you want.”
With a heavy sigh, Cinda climbed up and sat on the thin cushion on the seat. At least by tonight the grueling trip would be over.
True
to his word, the trip was calm and smooth. Lucas even made a place for her to lie down in the back if she wanted. After the noon meal, they walked in silence alongside the horses for awhile.
She wondered if her new husband felt he had made a mistake in marrying her. He hadn’t tried to touch her at night as was his husbandly right or even kiss her since the wedding. Was he disappointed in her?
❧
Lucas rolled his eyes as he thought about how different to-day’s travel was from yesterday’s. If the lady was mad about not being warned about an upset coach, she would be livid before long, because the end of this journey was full of little surprises.
She wasn’t very much like her letters. She was better, so much better in every way. She wasn’t nearly as uppity and high-strung but every bit a lady. It was like getting to know her all over again. She was so quiet. He had expected to be plied with questions like in her letters. He was glad he wasn’t. There were some questions he wasn’t ready to answer just yet. There was nothing stopping him from asking the questions, though.
“How did you come to live with your uncle and aunt?” He wanted to know as much about her as he could.
Cinda snapped up straight. She looked up at him, staring for a moment before answering. “My mother died when I was nine and my father three years later. Uncle Barney and Aunt Ginny are my only relatives, so I came to live with them.”
Her answer came out smooth, without a drop of emotion. Then she turned the question back on him. “What about you? Do your parents live near you? Will I be meeting them?”
“They passed away nine years ago,” and left me with the farm and everything that goes with it. He noticed his answer also came out sounding rehearsed and emotionless. He wondered what thoughts tailed her answer.
