Not that her quarters were any better. The stagecoach was packed with its ten passengers, and, as it started moving, Josephine realized why her chaperone had advised her as he did. The ride was bumpy, as predicted, and there was little room to move about.
The stagecoach traveled on for a few hours, well into the afternoon, and Josephine’s excitement was subdued by her nervousness. She mostly sat quietly in thought and prayer, though she made it a point to frequently give attention to the little boy from the night before. She’d learned that his name was Malcom, and that his mother was going to Cedarwood Creek to marry as well, though she said very little on the topic. As quiet as Josephine was, Malcom’s mother was quieter, which was why Josephine found it necessary to speak with the little boy and play tic-tac-toe with him on the dusty walls of the coach. She knew this journey had to be taxing on the child, and she wanted to make him feel better with her attention, since he was getting none from his mother.
As the coach pulled in to stop at Cedarwood Creek, Josephine felt a rush of fear come over her. It was a fear of the unknown—for, on the other side of that coach, somewhere out there, her husband-to-be was waiting, and, by God, she prayed he’d willingly receive her and recognize her amidst the small crowd of other women.
Since, she had agreed to the marriage and Mr. Port was acting as Mr. Kent’s representative, the marriage paper were officially signed and she was travelling to her new husband as his lawful wife. At the thought she swallowed hard. Apart from the telegram, she had not communicated with Samuel Kent at all. All she knew about him was what she had been able to tease out of Mr. Port and that was not much.
She did not even know what he looked like. What if he was horribly disfigured? As her imagination started running wild, she firmly told herself to calm down. It was too late know to change her mind. She looked to Mr. Port for comfort, but he seemed to be squirming in his seat the closer they got to their destination.
When the stagecoach door opened, Josephine felt the warmth and dryness of the fresh air as it whooshed into the cabin. She breathed it in with a sigh, stood up, and prepared to meet her destiny. The women and children who had travelled with Josephine were already outside, interacting with males, their families or parents, or other chaperones that had been arranged for them. Malcom and his mother had been the first off of the big wagon, and they were already making their way to a smaller one, where a much older man, a teenage girl, and an older lady who, by all measures, appeared to be the man’s sister, stood waiting.
Another young woman, who was accompanied by her mother, stood with a sour look on her face as she was introduced to a man who, obviously, did not meet her expectations. He was short, very fat, and had a face covered with pock marks and blisters. Josephine was certain that he must have had his own good graces, but she felt fortunate that it was not she who would be tasked to find them.
As the crowd thinned out, Josephine looked around at those who remained. She saw no one who looked like Samuels description. She knew he was expecting her, and that this was the day he was told she was to arrive. Josephine feared that they had been abandoned. … Where was Samuel Kent?
The crowd continued to thin out until just Josephine, Mr. Port, the male passenger, and the drivers remained. Josephine looked to Mr. Port for reassurance or guidance. She turned around, just in time to see Mr. Port organizing carriage for them.
“Are we not there yet? she asked, confusion written all over her face. Surely the place could be more remote than where they were?
“Don’t worry Mrs. Kent.” Josephine startled at the unfamiliar title.
“We are almost there. Just another half hour ride and you will be at your husband’s ranch,” he assured her. But Josephine did not feel reassured at all. What kind of man could not even be bothered to come and great his bride—wife? The butterflies in her stomach were in a frenzy.
SEVEN
The Meeting
As she was helped down from the carriage, Josephine looked around her with big eyes. Mr. Port had indicated to her that Sam Kent owned a small ranch. If this was small she could not begin to imagine what a big ranch was like. Madison Creek Ranch looked like it spread over at least 50 acres. The beauty and wildlife she had seen on her way there had been breath taking. She was sure she had seen both elk and deer, wandering about the area. That said, compared to the majestic nature around it the homestead seemed small. But she didn’t mind. It made it look cosy. She took a step toward the porch, and then stopped to look back at Mr. Port.
“Are you not coming Mr. Port?”
“I will be right behind you my dear. Just go ahead,” he replied looking suspiciously uncomfortable. But Josephine ignored it – she was finally here. Her new home. Taking a deep breath she pulled her bonnet tightly, her eyes firmly fixed on her feet as she climbed the stairs up to the porch of the homestead. She vowed not to flinch, however grim or deformed her new husband was. Please Lord, let him not be deformed, she prayed silently in her head. As she looked up, her eyes continued, up and up until her gaze locked with the most beautiful brown eyes she had ever seen. Eyes were the color of winter roasted chestnuts with rims of darkest chocolate. Her breath caught in her throat.
This could not be him, surely. He had a rugged beauty that identified him as frontier man. A cowboy hat sat titled on his head. She could have drowned in his eyes and not regret it once. He looked every bit the dashing hero she had imagined. Her vey own husband. Someone that would love her. She started unhooking her bonnet. She let her auburn mane tumble down and smiled up at him.
But her frontier hero, was not smiling, instead he looked stunned. It was at this point she realized he was holding something in his hands.
***
Sam Kent, couldn’t believe his misfortune. He was going to strangle Old Man Port. The woman standing before him was anything but plain. From her beautiful auburn ringlets, to her peach perfect skin and natural rosy cheeks, she was as far away from plain as you could get. He stared at her in abject horror.
“Welcome to your new home, Mrs. Kent,” Catherine McAdams, exclaimed, interjecting in the awkward silence. She had come over earlier in the day, to try and make the house presentable for his new wife.
“I am Mrs. Catherine McAdams. A neighbor and a friend. Do call me Catherine. Welcome to Cedarwood Creek.”
Her voice broke the silence and Josephine gazed up at her.
“How do you do,” she replied, her voice hesitant. Her eyes seemed to be fixed on the bundle that Sam was carrying. As if he knew he was being assessed, Carson Kent decided that this would be a great time to show his displeasure at being ignore. He opened his tiny toothless mouth and let out a wail that almost caused his uncle to drop him. Josephine’s eyes swung back to stare at Sam.
Embarrassed beyond belief, with sweaty hands and a need to flee, Sam did the first thing that came to mind. He stretched out his hands and deposited the baby in Josephine’s arms.
“Welcome to Madison Creek Ranch. I’m Sam Kent.”
Josephine looked at the crying baby in her arms. Then looked at her new husband, then back at the baby.
“Excuse me, I don’t believe I ordered a baby,” she replied, calm as could be. She put the baby back in his arms, walked back to the carriage, climbed inside and closed the door.
EIGHT
The Bride and the Baby
It had been weeks since the disastrous first meeting between Sam and his wife. After she had gone back into the carriage, Catherine McAdams had come sit with her.
They didn’t said a word to each for at least half an hour. Until Josephine finally found the courage to asked the question that was burning on her tongue. Whose was that baby?
When Catherine had explained, Josephine’s day went from bad to worse. Finding out her new husband had an illegitimate son with a painted lady that he expected her to raise, felt like being plunged headfirst in a bucket of ice-cold water. What a fool she had been. Dreaming against all hope that someone, somewhere would want her, just her �
� warts and all. Was she so horrible, that she was only good enough for child rearing?
Faced with such a disturbing discovery, she had been ashamed that Catherine, a stranger, had been there to witness her embarrassment. She had plastered on a fake smile and walked into the house that was now her home. At the memory of that day, she winced internally.
The relationship between her and her new husband had been strained since that first encounter. The homestead had four rooms, so there was plenty of space for Josephine to have her own room, right next door to the baby’s.
Through a silent accord they had all fallen into a routine. The baby work up at dawn, the same time Sam did. Josephine would also wake up at that time and make breakfast for the entire family. Then Sam would go out checking the cattle and fixing fences with their ranch-hand. They would both be back at midday, just in time for a home-cooked lunch. Then they went back out and she was left to tend the house and the baby until suppertime.
Dinner was a quite affair, with both of them trying to avoid looking at each other. The tension of the situation was starting to get to Josephine.
She had adjusted to the idea that she was now a mother. After all, Carson Kent was adorable. You would have to be a complete monster not to fall in love with him. It had only taken a couple of weeks for him to start recognizing her. Now he stretched his chubby arms out for her, whenever she left him alone overly long. She might not have given birth to him, but he had her heart.
She found herself smiling at the thought.
“You do have my heart don’t you precious?” she whispered to the baby. He gurgle, and smiled back at her.
“But who has your daddy’s heart? Won’t you tell mama,” she continued cooing.
“Ma..ma.”
Josephine’s heart skipped a beat, and then started hammering wildly. She leaned towards Carson and asked
“What did you say, baby mine?” Carson just smiled toothlessly at her. Feeling ridiculous, she sat back in her chair.
“Ma..ma,” his little baby voice said again.
There could be no mistaking. Josephine’s heart melted on the spot. She picked up her son and held him close to her, inhaling his intoxicating baby smell.
“Yes, my love, mama is here,” she whispered. But for how much longer she did not know. Although they were married in the eyes of the law, they had yet to consummate their marriage. Josephine felt as if the threat of annulment hung over her like an ax.
She never wanted to leave Carson…if truth be told she never wanted to leave Sam. Despite the very few words and interaction that they had over the last couple of weeks, she knew a big part of the awkwardness on her part was due to the conflicting feeling she had first experienced when they met. She still couldn’t look him in the eye without her heart racing. When she wasn’t thinking about the baby, she was obsessing about Sam.
Did he like her even a little bit? Could they ever have a normal future together?
But most importantly where and with whom was he spending his time every Saturday, when he wasn’t at home? The confusing emotions that bombarded her could surely not be jealousy?
She bit her lip, when she remembered the whispered gossip at church last Sunday. It was not beyond the realm of possibility that he was spending his Saturdays in a saloon. He had fathered an illegitimate child after all. The humiliation of knowing this was the talk of the town, made her want to curl up in her house with her baby and never come out again.
She could feel her heart breaking despite herself. Sighing deeply, she picked up her Carson and walked to the bedroom. Once she got there, she laid down the infant on the bed and stretched out besides him. With his tiny chubby hands gripping her finger, she said a prayer.
Dear Lord, please forgive me for my sins and forgive me for every trespass. Father, I know you brought me to this house and this man and that it is all part of your plan. Please let it be your will that we someday become a real family.
In the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit, Amen.
By the time she finished her prayer, Carson was fast asleep, still clutching her finger in his little baby hands.
NINE
Love At First Sight
Sam Kent, reformed gambler, known ladies man, could not get his wife out of his mind. The peace of mind he had thought marriage would bring him was nowhere to be found.
Why would the good Lord do this to him? Send him a hellion with the face of an angel? In a very short space of time, she had turned his empty, lonely house into a home. Turned him into a man, whose only wish was to be with his family. The joy of watching his wife and son, in the home that he built and provided for gave him a greater satisfaction than he wanted to admit. To remove the strings she was attaching to his heart, he was now in the local saloon, having his second shot of whisky.
“Hi Sam, haven’t seen you here in a while,” Gigi Taylor, the saloon girl greeted him.
“You wouldn’t have. Sammy boy been busy getting hitched,” the barkeep declared with a smile.
“So what are you doing here?” Gigi asked. Sam was asking himself the same question.
“Don’t like the look of your new bride?”
“No, she is pretty enough,” he replied reluctantly.
“So what is the problem?” The saloon girl looked confused. The only family men the bar ever saw, were men unhappy at home.
Sam had a think, and then had to admit to himself; he was the problem.
He was not the kind of man to believe in love at first sight. Such musings were for poets and fools. Or so he had thought, that was until he met Josephine.
In the time they had been together, she had shown no signs of wanting more. She spent all her time with the baby. She seemed content to rear his son and leave it at that.
To be honest, that was what he had asked Mr. Port for: a woman that did not want to carry his babies, and who was happy taking care of his household. Now that he had that, he needed more. And not just because she was pretty. He could not help but notice the little particularities that made her so adorable.
When no-one was around she would sing. Belting out hymn after hymn. She didn’t particularly have the most soothing voice, but she sang with such gusto, that it was charming. Somehow, she had managed to get the little one so used to her voice that her singing worked as a lullaby. He smiled at the thought.
When she wasn’t happy with something, she would wrinkle her pretty nose and stay silent. She thought she was giving him a neural look, but her disapproval was written all over her face.
The times when he did something that made her smile, where the best. Her eyes would light up and she looked like he had gifted her the world.
Yes, there was no doubt about it. He was helplessly and utterly in love with his wife. But why did love make him feel so miserable?
“Hey Sam, are you still with us?” Gigi asked, sounding annoyed. He realized he had phased her out once he started thinking about his wife. Taking a deep sigh he replied, “Yes I am still here.”
“Well are you gonna answer my question? What is the problem?” Taking a sip of his whiskey, he decided to be honest, with himself and with her.
“It’s been weeks and I haven’t received so much as a peck on the chin. I am starting to fear that my wife feels nothing for me,” he muttered embarrassed.
“Oh, is that all? That isn’t a problem,” Gigi replied laughing. “Why don’t you just peck her on the cheek instead, to get things going,” she said and winked at him.
“Better yet, tell her how you really feel and take it from there. Better to know now, then to go around mooning over her for the next 30 years.”
Sam felt like he had been hit by a storm of clarity. He looked around him. The bar was sparsely occupied by men who lived for liquor and loose women. What was he doing here, when he had a gem like Josephine at home? Fool.
He took a deep breath and made a decision. From now on he was going to act like a man who had a treasure at home. He finished his whisky in one fell swo
op, grabbed his hat and made for the door.
“So we will be seeing you tomorrow,” the barkeep jested.
“Sorry Jeb. You won’t be seeing me here at all,” he replied. He had a wife and a son to be with.
TEN
The Cowboy, the Bride & The Sick Baby
Sam was laying on his bed, for the umpteenth time wondering when he was going to find the courage to tell his wife he wanted a real marriage. It had been a week since his last saloon visit. A week since he had taken his decision to be a proper family man. He still hadn’t mustered up the courage to approach Josephine. The fear of rejection was keeping him paralyzed.
Their current situation couldn’t continue though. He was not going to be able to keep this up for much longer. He was sleeping next to nothing, while still rising up at dawn. Notwithstanding the fact that he was snapping at his ranch-hand and generally behaving like a grouchy bear.
Just as he finally managed to shut his eyes, he heard an urgent knock on the door. Before he had time to wonder who it was or even remember that the only other person it could be was Josephine, she rushed into his room. She was wearing a white nightgown that emphasized her paleness and made her flaming hair glow like a halo around her head. He swallowed hard and tried to focus on the torrent of words that were rushing out of her pretty mouth.
“Sam, I think the baby is sick,” she whispered, dread in her eyes.
“Sick?”
“Yes, sick.”
“I noticed it yesterday, but though nothing about it. He refused to have his dinner and was fussy all night. Now his skin is hot to the touch.” Josephine was wringing her hands.
Sam, grabbed his shirt, pulled it on and raced into the baby room. What he saw had his heart racing with fear.
Carson lay perfectly still, his color pale. He was sweating profusely and his skin was hot to the touch. Tiny, barely audible moans escaped his infant body; like those of an injured puppy.
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