Forced into Marriage

by Ruth Ann Nordin

  She looked back at her child. She didn’t think it was possible to love anyone the way she loved him, but whenever she studied him, there was a strange sensation in her chest. She believed her heart might just burst with joy if she would let it.

  “Are you ready to eat?” Brandon called out to her. “Fish don’t stay hot for long.”

  She glanced over at the campfire where Brandon was placing two fish on a plate. “I only want one,” she told him.

  “Are you sure? They’re not very filling.”

  “I’m not very hungry. If I eat too much, I’ll probably get sick.”

  His eyebrows furrowed and he examined her face. “Are you sick right now?”

  “No. Just tired.”

  Looking relieved, he nodded and removed one of the fish from her plate then put it on his. “We’ll stay here for a few days. I figured you and the baby won’t be ready to go anywhere for a while.” He went over to her and gave her the plate.

  “Thank you.” When he didn’t go back to his side of the campfire, she asked, “Is something wrong?”

  “No. I was just wondering if you have a name for him.”

  “I haven’t picked a name yet. I need some time to think about it.”

  “When you do pick one, will you tell me? I’d like to know what to call him.”

  “I’ll tell you.”

  He returned to his spot at the campfire, and she took a good look at her son. Normally, she would pick a name of a prominent member in her tribe. She had been named after a woman who had been a master storyteller. Her ability to remember the tiniest of details had led to many in the tribe respecting her.

  But she wasn’t sure she wanted to do that. Her son marked the beginning of a new life for her. She wasn’t a part of the tribe anymore. All of that had been taken away. She didn’t want to name him after anyone who reminded her of the town she’d just left, either. She wanted her child to have a name that looked to the future, something that would denote hope.

  After she tucked the blanket in more securely around his waist, she turned her attention to the fish on her plate. She wouldn’t rush in giving him a name. She wanted to give him the right one. A name was important. It was something that would define him, something he would have to live with for the rest of his life.

  With a glance at Brandon who was already eating his fish, she started to eat hers. She still wasn’t sure what to make of him, but there was no doubt he was a good man. Probably one of the few good men who existed. Maybe the preacher was right. Maybe God put her with him so that he would see to it that she and her child made it safely to the next town. And then, they could start their new life with the past safely behind them.

  Chapter Seven

  Six days later, Brandon cleaned the dirt from his horse’s hoof. He figured they were a month away from the next town. Maybe a little less. Though, with the baby, he didn’t want to go too fast. So maybe a month.

  Noting the shadow on the grass in front of him, he glanced up and saw Lokni with the baby in her arms. “I would like to wash our things so we’re ready to head out tomorrow. When you’re done with your horse, will you hold him?” She nodded toward the child who was wide awake and looking all around him.

  Brandon smiled. “I’d be honored.” She hadn’t asked him to hold the baby up to now, and he was beginning to wonder if she trusted him to do so. It was nice to know she did. “I should be done in ten minutes.”

  She offered a nod and then returned to the campfire. Not too far from the fire was part of the deer he’d shot two days ago. A couple of coyotes had come in the middle of the night to eat some of the meat, but Brandon had managed to scare them off with his gun. He could now appreciate Joe’s insistence that someone stay awake and watch over the camp on the wagon trail.

  When he and Lokni left tomorrow, he would leave what he hadn’t been able to make into jerky for the coyotes. The coyotes could finish the carcass then.

  He finished with the horse, cleaned his hands, and went over to Lokni who was sitting on her blankets, singing something in her native language to the boy. She had a nice voice. For a moment, he was brought back to the time when his mother sang him to sleep. He recalled feeling like everything was right with the world whenever she did that. But that was long before he grew up and learned the world wasn’t as wonderful as his parents had made it seem.

  Lokni stopped singing and looked up at him. “Are you done?”

  “Yes.”

  As she started to get up, he hurried to help her. She seemed to be moving well for a woman who’d recently given birth, but he didn’t want her to push herself too hard. Who knew if she would unwittingly pull a muscle or hurt herself in some other way?

  “Do you want me to carry your clothes to the river?” he asked.

  “No, I can do that, but it would help if you gave me your things to wash.”

  “You want to wash my clothes, too?”

  “We don’t have a lot of clothes between us. It won’t be that much more work. Besides, you got the food and shared it with me.”

  “Well, of course, I shared the fish and the deer with you. It was only right.”

  “And washing your clothes is only right.”

  Since she put it that way, he saw no reason to argue. “I’ll be quick.”

  He hurried to gather the few things he had to wash and added the bar of soap. He set them on the grass and took the baby from her.

  “Thank you,” he told her as she bent down to retrieve his things and the soap.

  “No one’s ever thanked me for washing their clothes before,” she replied.

  Did that mean he shouldn’t have done it?

  But then she stood up and smiled at him. “It’s nice.”

  He returned her smile, and unable to think of anything appropriate to say, he carried the baby over to his bedroll and settled onto it. The boy stared up at him, his eyes wide. Brandon noted that his eyes weren’t as dark as they were the day he was born, but they were just as alert.

  “You are a miracle, aren’t you?” Brandon whispered.

  In his years of marriage to his first wife, they had wanted a child but had been unable to have one. He knew Lokni hadn’t wanted to conceive this child. She did, however, love this little boy. There was no doubt about that. And Brandon certainly enjoyed being able to hold him.

  He didn’t know why Lokni hesitated to name him. It would be nice to address the baby by a name, but he wasn’t going to rush Lokni. She was his mother, and it was her right to name him when she was ready. Given everything she’d been through, she deserved to have something she could control.

  “I’ve never been a father before,” he told the boy. “I’m not sure I’ll be any good at it, but I’m going to do my best.”

  It was still hard to think of himself as Lokni’s husband and this boy’s father. On some mornings when he woke up, he thought the whole thing had been a dream. As soon as he saw Lokni and the baby, the reality of the situation came crashing back down on him.

  Now, as he held this small child who depended on him and Lokni for his very survival, Brandon was moved with the desire to give the boy the kind of childhood he had. He couldn’t do anything about the past, but he could do something about the future.

  “I want you to be happy,” he told the boy. “I want you to know you’re surrounded by people who care about you. I want you to have what I did while I was growing up. I don’t know what happened to your mother’s family, but my parents got sick with consumption and died when I was sixteen. I’ll try to be in your life longer than that. I’d like for your mother and me to see you become a man, get a good job, and have a family of your own.”

  It suddenly occurred to him that he might never see those things if he kept drinking. He didn’t think men who kept drinking alcohol lived a long time. When his wife divorced him and he lost his business, he hadn’t cared how long he lived. In fact, he hadn’t wanted to live. But now, with this newborn child in his arms, he had a reason to keep going. It was no
longer about him. It was about Lokni and this baby.

  “I’m going to make you a promise,” he said. “I’m not going to drink any more alcohol for the rest of my life. If I’m going to be the best father I can be, then I need to stop drinking.”

  Then, before he could talk himself out of it, he got up and went to his sack. After a moment, he found the remaining flasks that were still full. He had broken down and had the rest of the whiskey in the fourth flask last night. That only left him with two flasks left. But he wasn’t going to drink the whiskey in them.

  Making sure Lokni was at the river so she didn’t see him, he pulled the flasks out, removed the tops of them, and dumped the whiskey on the ground.

  “There,” he told the boy as he gently set him on the grass beside him. “That’s my oath to you. Later tonight, when you and your mother are asleep, I’ll bury the flasks.”

  He couldn’t very well do it now in case Lokni found out about his secret sin. He set the flasks back into the sack. Then he picked up the baby and returned to the bedroll.

  He released his breath. He really didn’t want Lokni to find out he’d had anything to drink while they’d been together. There was a sense of shame in having to take comfort in alcohol. He hadn’t enjoyed it when Joe had caught the flasks in his sack, and he’d enjoyed it even less when Joe dropped him off in town because of it.

  He knew alcohol wasn’t something he should have to rely on to get through the days and nights. He should be able to get through them without the aid of whiskey. The fact that he’d drunk so much without realizing it made him aware that he wasn’t in control of it. It was starting to control him, and he didn’t like that.

  If he was going to raise a child, he needed to get control back into his life. And the first step had been to dump out the whiskey. It was only one step of many, he knew, but at least he’d done it.

  He had no idea what things would be like from here. In many ways, taking a drink from time to time during the day and night had offered a source of comfort that nothing else did. But there was another source of comfort he had now.

  He turned his attention back to the boy who was resting in his arms. The boy was worth it. Whenever he felt his resolve weaken, he would think of this child, and the child would give him the strength he needed to be a better person. After his first wife betrayed him, he didn’t think he could care about another person, but he already cared about this boy.

  He had no idea how easy it was to develop an attachment to a baby. Maybe it was because babies were innocent. Maybe it was because they needed someone to take care of them. Maybe it was because they represented the future that was wide open. Their lives started out with a blank slate, and anything could be written on it. He wanted this child to experience a lot of good things.

  “I’m not perfect by any stretch of the imagination,” he whispered, “but I’m going to do my best to make sure you have a good future.”

  The baby made eye contact with him, and Brandon smiled. For the first time in a long time, he felt as if his life was finally going in the right direction.

  ***

  In the two weeks after they resumed their journey, Lokni and Brandon fell into a comfortable routine. They started the morning with eating breakfast. Then they would load up their things and head along the river. They took frequent breaks. Before she had her child, these would annoy her, but now she was glad for them since it gave her time to put her baby in a clean cloth diaper and wash the soiled one. Afterwards, she’d breastfeed him then have something to eat and drink. And they would continue on until it was time to stop for the evening.

  It wasn’t until the middle of the second week that she noticed the change in Brandon. Up to now, he’d been calm and lost in his own thoughts. She was often lost in her own thoughts, too, so she didn’t mind how quiet things were between them. But soon, his calm demeanor seemed to give way to anxiety.

  He would constantly look behind them as if he expected someone to be following them, and when they took breaks, he couldn’t sit still. He ended up pacing back and forth, ringing his hands, and rubbing his forehead. There were also times he would drink all the water in the canteen in one sitting and then fill it up at the river to drink more. He would mutter something about a thirst that was never ending, but he didn’t explain what he meant by that.

  She almost asked him what was wrong, but she didn’t know him well enough to make the inquiry. In all of her years around men, she’d never seen any of them act like this. Something was going on with him, but she had no idea what it could possibly be.

  On their third week during one of their breaks, she caught him fidgeting and mumbling something under his breath. Worse, he kept glancing behind him as if he expected someone to be following them. There was no way that could be. Orson and the others would never find them at this point. So it was strange that he seemed to be expecting it.

  On one of the days in the third week, she noticed that Brandon was squatting by his horse. He was rocking himself back and forth on his heels, and though he seemed to be shivering, sweat trickled down his face. He hadn’t shaved in a few days, and one look at his trembling hands told her why. He’d no doubt end up cutting himself with his razor if he did.

  Once more, she scanned their surroundings. They were close to the base of a mountain range now, but there was plenty of open land to see there was no visible threat. At least, there was nothing she was picking up on.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked him as she shifted her baby to her other arm.

  “Nothing’s wrong.” He stood up and retrieved the reins of his horse. “Are you ready to go?”

  “Yes, but you seem anxious about something.”

  He shrugged but didn’t look at her. “I’m fine. Just eager to get to town. We should be there next week.”

  She fell into step beside him as he walked forward, leading the horse as he did so. She glanced around them once more. Everything seemed alright, but she knew that just because everything seemed that way, it didn’t mean it was. There had been no warning when the army came to invade her tribe. It had been a nice sunny day. Not a cloud had been in the sky. It had been a day much like this.

  “Do you think someone is following us?” she finally asked.

  He shook his head. “No.”

  “Is there a dangerous animal that is tracking us?”

  “No.”

  After a few minutes of silently walking with her, he brought his arms around himself and gritted his teeth.

  “Are you sick?” she ventured, thinking maybe that was the problem. Maybe he wasn’t feeling well but wanted to keep pushing himself to get to the next town.

  “No. I’m fine,” he replied, keeping his gaze ahead of them.

  It was so much like a man to be stubborn. Whether he was Indian or white, they all thought they were invincible. “We can camp here for a couple of days,” she said. “We have plenty of jerky left from the deer you killed, and we have all the water we need from the river.”

  He stopped walking and turned toward her, his gaze sharp. “I’m fine. I don’t need to stop and rest. I just want to get to the next town. I want a bath and a shave, and I want to sleep in a bed.”

  Surprised he should snap at her since he hadn’t done that before, she snapped back, “You’re not fine. You’re ill. You can’t stay still for longer than a couple of seconds. You’re fidgeting all over the place. You look like you’re either going to vomit or faint. I don’t know if you’ll even be able to make it another week.”

  “I can make it! I know when I’m fine and when I’m not. Now will you please leave me alone about it?”

  With a huff, he jerked the horse’s reins and stormed away from her.

  She clenched her jaw. If it had been anyone but Brandon, she wouldn’t answer, but since she felt safe replying, she yelled, “I was only being nice!”

  “I don’t need you to be nice,” he called out. “I’m a grown man. Not a little child. If I say I’m fine, then I’m fine.”

>   It took her a moment before she was calm enough to walk after him. Whether she liked it or not, she was stuck with him. At least until they reached the town. Which couldn’t happen soon enough as far as she was concerned. Every man—no matter who he was—wasn’t worth the trouble he put her through.

  In her tribe, her father had married her and her sisters off to the strongest warrior because he wanted grandchildren who would be strong. And the man he’d married her to only paid attention to her when he wanted to get her with child. Other than that, he had no use for her.

  Then there was the US Army which raided their tribe to get the land, and those men burned everything and killed anyone who fought back. A couple of those army men had sold her to the men in the next town. She had thought it’d been disgraceful to be sold to her first husband for some buffalo meat and robes, but being sold to Orson and his friends had been worse.

  Then after Orson and his friends had gotten their use out of her, they pawned her off on Brandon, who’d been too drunk to know what was happening. And now she was stuck with him until they got to the next town.

  She wiped the tears from her eyes. By now, she should be done with getting hurt. But she was beginning to think Brandon was different. That maybe he was going to prove that there was at least one man out there who could be someone worth liking. But if he was going to yell at her just because she expressed concern about his health, then what else would he yell at her about?

  Holding her son closer to her, she marched on ahead, focusing on the life she would make for them both. That, at least, gave her something positive to focus on. She wasn’t going to waste any more time thinking of Brandon.

  Chapter Eight