by Linda Ellen
The brothers had never wanted to live anywhere else, once they had sunk their roots into the fertile land of Brownville, Nebraska. All the time they had been away, serving in the army during the War Between the States, both of them had dreamed of home. Not only the town, but also their parents and friends; all of the wonderful people that made the town what it was. Once the truce was called at the Appomattox Courthouse and they had been allowed to return home, life was once again good.
However, all that had changed just two short years after the war’s end. Their father, the virile, never-sick-a-day-in-his-life Ken Maynard, had succumbed to what the locals took to calling River Fever—a sickness brought on, some said, by mosquitoes that lived along the river’s perpetually damp banks. Several people had contracted the illness that summer and four had perished—one an old woman of about eighty, two small children, and big, strapping Ken Maynard. His passing had left such a hole in the family...their mother, Loretta, never recovered from the loss of her husband, and died of what everyone believed to be a broken heart just a year later. Sam and Finn had carried on the best they could—Sam had inherited the sawmill, and Finn then worked for his brother. But things were never the same. They lived in the cabin together, worked in the mill together, and argued often.
Lost in thought, Sam shook his head from side to side as he remembered his brother expressing his desire to branch out and do something different with his life. While their father was alive, he wouldn’t hear of either of his sons doing anything other than keeping the family tradition of lumber, sawdust, and millwork alive. Finn had other ideas. While in the army, he had learned to cut hair and found he had a knack for it. He enjoyed it more than anything he had ever done.
Once their parents were gone, Finn had put feet to his dreams and bought the old Lone Tree Tavern in town and had embarked on his choice of career. Sam had found the cabin too lonely once Finn moved out, and it wasn’t long before he had created a place for himself in a lean-to tool shed on the side of the mill. It was enough for him. He had a small wood stove to keep warm in winter, a place to bed down, a box for his clothing, and a few other incidentals to make life comfortable. He took all his meals in one of the three eateries in town, or with Finn and now his wife, Charise. If he felt the need for companionship, he made a visit to the Lucky Buck.
Since he had moved his things, he hadn’t actually been back to the cabin.
But Sam had suddenly acquired a wife and from now on, things would have to be different. Like for instance...no more strolling down to the Lucky Buck...
Shaking himself out of his woolgathering, he stared at what was once a comfortable, well-built home. Two of the windows had panes broken out, the top hinge on the front door had somehow broken, leaving the door askew, and weeds had grown up all around. The front porch was missing its railing—who knows where that went—and the exterior exuded a feeling of neglect. In a word, it looked what it was—abandoned.
There’s nothing for it; I’ll have to fix it up, since I can’t very well take a wife to my lean-to room.
In his mind, he listed the things that needed to be done to make the place decent again. Cleaning, carpentry, cutting back the weeds, bringing in furniture and all of the items, large and small, that make a house livable...it would take a while, especially if he didn’t have help.
He had five days.
With a sigh, he moved forward and pushed open the door, instantly ducking when a bird screeched and flew right out past his head. He ran a hand back over his head to make sure the creature hadn’t dropped any gifts on its way out, and then he crossed the threshold.
“Good gravy!” he gasped as he looked around. The inside was a mess and the back door, for reasons unknown, was standing wide open. Animals seemed to have taken advantage of the absence of humans, and he saw evidence of a visit from what may have been of the human variety or two at some point. Who that would have been was anybody’s guess. River rat vagrants, probably.
“Oh well. It’s gotta be done. Think I’ll go in town and recruit some help. No time like the present,” he mumbled as he turned on his heel, climbed on his horse, and set off for town and his first stop, Finn’s barbershop.
“You want to get our old homestead in shape again,” Finn stated after Sam had finished outlining his plans. However, the odd look on his brother’s face took Sam aback and his brow furrowed. Didn’t Finn see the necessity?
Glancing at Charise and noting a similar expression, he met Finn’s gaze again. “Yeah...Beth Ann can’t stay with me in that little lean-to. It’s barely big enough for just me,” he added with a dry chuckle. His brother and sister-in-law’s expressions didn’t change.
“What?” he finally asked as he began to feel a tad exasperated.
Charise cleared her throat and met her husband’s eyes again before seeking Sam’s. “Well...we thought you agreed that Beth Ann would stay here, with us. We’ve got the extra room...”
Suddenly, the conversation and decisions concerning the trouble Beth Ann was in resurfaced in Sam’s mind. All of it. Good Lord, how did it slip my mind that these two had declared my bride would stay with them?
“Oh...um, yeah, well...” he stammered, realizing the cat was now out of the bag about his feelings for Beth Ann. He knew he had two choices. Either stop hiding his feelings from his family and fess up, or run like a coward and continue to keep his secret ardor for Beth Ann under wraps. Honestly, he was tired of hiding.
Making a decision, he dug into the front pocket of his dungarees and removed a slip of paper. Opening it, he waved it at his brother and sister-in-law, although they had seen it before—it was the telegram from Beth Ann reporting that all had gone as planned and she was on her way to Brownville.
Mentally steeling himself for a million questions, he set his jaw and chose to face his brother straight on as he stated flatly, “She’s my wife. She should live with me, don’t you think?”
The other two exchanged looks once again, simultaneously took a breath, and then each launched into rapid-fire interrogation.
“But, we thought you only said to have Beth Ann marry you by proxy to get her out of an impossible situation?”
“Man, what’s this about? Are you saying you have feelings for Beth Ann? How come you’ve never said anything?”
“Yes, how is it that you have feelings for my friend and you’ve never said a word, Sam?”
“Were you just going to keep this to yourself and keep passing on mail order brides until they stopped answering your advertisement?”
“Yes, what about your ad—”
Sam held up both hands, effectively stopping the barrage of words firing at him with the force and speed of a Gatling gun. Looking down the barrel of both of their surprised and confused stares, he confessed with quiet sheepishness, “To answer your questions...yes, I wanted to help get her out of an impossible situation. I never said a word because I thought she was engaged or possibly married by now and I had no chance. Yes, I was going to keep it to myself because I was...” he paused, looking off into the distance and then swearing softly, he announced, “Well, dang it all, I was embarrassed. I couldn’t stop thinkin’ about her, but what would a beautiful girl like Beth Ann want with a big clumsy lumberjack like me, huh? There, I spilled my guts. Happy now?” he added with a glare at his younger brother.
Silence reigned for an instant, and then to his surprise, laughter suddenly filled the room. He felt his face and neck flame red hot.
Charise was the first to recover. “Oh Sam, I think it’s wonderful that you have feelings for Bethie. However...I have no idea how she feels about you and...well...just because at this moment she is married to you doesn’t mean...” she paused and pressed two fingers to her lips, realizing that her words were most likely sending darts into her brother-in-law’s heart.
“Yeah, brother. It was one thing for Charise to marry me by proxy and come here to live with me—but we had pretty much fallen in love through our letters. Even with that, we didn’t at fi
rst become man and wife in...well...every sense of the word,” Finn put in, winking at his wife from across the table at her gasp of, “Finn!” He went on, “But, other than the few words you and Beth Ann exchanged in Louisville, you haven’t spoken or written or anything...have you?”
Sam didn’t like the direction this conversation had taken. He knew they were both right, but that didn’t mean he had to like it. “No. And I know that she expects to come here and have the marriage annulled when she feels it’s safe to do so. But, hang it all, I want a chance with her. I haven’t been able to get her out of my mind since that trip to Louisville...remembering those vivid green eyes and that beautiful hair... I want a chance to make her fall in love with me. Is that too much to ask? Huh?” he insisted, piercing both members of his family with his plea.
Suddenly, Charise’s lips curved into a mysterious smile. “No, Sam dear, that isn’t too much to ask. I think you have the right to do that. All the right in the world—don’t you agree Finn?” She gave her husband a knowing look. “But I do think that she should stay here with us at first. You can, um...court her...can’t you?” The warm glint in her eyes told him all he needed to know. His sister-in-law was on his side and she would do what she could to help his suit.
Acknowledging the truthfulness of their points, he reached up to give his beard a scratch and then ran a hand back through his hair, his expression contrite. “You’re right. I guess I was jumping the gun a little, huh?” he added, feeling heat infuse his cheeks again.
“Ahh, but that doesn’t mean that you can’t, when the time is right, take her out to the cabin and show her around...right?” Finn suggested. “Maybe get her ideas on what needs to be done...”
“And show her what a great town Brownville is—a great place to live, raise a family, find love...” Charise added with a giggle.
With his brother and sister-in-law snickering at his awkwardness, Sam let out a grunt, slammed his hat back on his head, and groused, “Aww, I gotta get back to work,” as he stomped out the kitchen door.
If there was one thing he hated, it was being the brunt of anyone’s jokes, whether family or not. As their amused laughter followed him down the porch steps, his face and neck remained red with the hated embarrassed flush.
Marching away to lick his wounds in his office at the mill, he knew he needed to make plans. Strategy. That’s what this called for. Smart, careful strategy...
“Brownville, end of line, in five minutes,” the conductor called out to the handful of folks scattered about the lone passenger car.
End of line... That reminded Beth Ann that the thirty-mile line to Brownville was more like a spur, so that when they had passengers headed to or from the small town on the river, the larger station up the line sent a short train made up of the engine, the fuel car, one passenger car, and a caboose. The engine was run in reverse so that it could go forward for the trip back up the line. Even so, she was surprised that it had made the trip in a little over forty minutes.
Suddenly hit with a jolt of nerves, Beth Ann swallowed and ran damp hands down the skirt of her deep purple traveling outfit. Then her hands fluttered up to pat at her hat and the stray wisps of bright auburn hair attempting to escape the tight chignon she had wrestled it into at the last station—Nebraska City. It had rained that morning, and the damp air always played havoc with her curls.
Her faithful traveling companion sat across from her reading a newspaper he had picked up in the previous town. His eyes rose to peep at her over top of his half-spectacles, then he chuckled, and folded the paper.
“Almost to the end of our journey, young lady. And what a journey it has been,” he commented, and she knew he was trying to take her mind off of being nervous to see Sam again...Sam, who was now her legal husband...
“Yes,” she agreed, looking his way and thinking how precious Zebulon was to her—like the father and grandfather she had always wanted. Matter of fact, he had fondly acquiesced to her request that she begin to call him Papa.
They chuckled together now, remembering some of the tactics they had used to throw stones into the path of anyone who might want to follow their trail. “I can’t wait to tell Char all about it. Like the young man in Indianapolis we asked to purchase tickets to Springfield and instead he came back with tickets to Chicago,” she began.
He gave a nod as he took out his pipe and began the now familiar task of packing and lighting it. Glancing up with a mischievous twinkle, he laughed. “Or when you dressed up to play my elderly wife, so that a feeble, bent old couple could purchase two tickets to Davenport. How you managed to disguise your youth and loveliness still amazes me, young lady.” He pointed at her with the bowl of the pipe and a glimmer of merriment in his eye. “You should be on the stage playing a damsel in a Shakespearean production.”
“And you pretending to be sick with the sniffles,” she countered with a laugh. “Your disguise was quite thorough, with that scarf all up around your neck and face—”
He cut in with a snort, “Ah, but that was so that a battered and bruised old man wouldn’t be remembered, should anyone ask.”
His bruises having all but faded, his comment served to bring it all rushing back and that made Beth Ann gasp with remembered sympathy. “Oh, Papa, I’m so very sorry you got hurt. Oooh, it makes me so angry, I want to go back and take a buggy whip to those men—and to that awful Lloyd Fetterman most of all!”
Her trip-making pal puffed his pipe to life with a snicker. “Not me, Bethie girl. I’ll be happy to say I’ve seen the last of the Fetterman family—although...I would relish seeing Lloyd the Third get his just desserts.”
The train’s whistle announcing that they were pulling into the station at Brownville sounded loud and clear, prompting Beth Ann to gather her things and send him a look that said she was fully in agreement as she responded with a resounding, “Amen!”
Before the large, smoke-belching iron horse rolled to a stop, the two rose to make their way to the end of the car.
Beth Ann stepped into the aisle, but Zeb stopped her with a gentle hand on her arm. She turned to peer into his faded blue eyes, her upraised brows inquiring as he smiled dotingly.
“Scared, girly? Anxious to see your husband face to face again?”
Her husband...the word made a delicious shiver race up her spine and a feeling she couldn’t quite name settle in her core. Is that how Sam was thinking about her? Even now, was he waiting out there on the platform for her? She tried to peer outside, but couldn’t much see through the dusty windows. Besides him, however, she couldn’t wait to see Charise again, and to finally meet the infamous Finn in person.
Determinedly sloughing off the jitters, she aimed an impish smile at her dear chaperone.
“Scared, excited, relieved, and glad is what I am. Come on, Papa, a town blessedly without even one Fetterman awaits.”
Sam took a deep, but not necessarily calming, breath and raised a hand to once again tug at the string tie he had donned with his only-wear-it-once-in-a-while suit. The train car was pulling to a stop and inside was the woman who had willingly become his proxy bride. The moment was at hand! He’d never spent a longer five days in his life—and that included the three long days he had waited around camp to be mustered out of the army at the war’s end.
Reaching up to smooth the waves of his hair blowing to one side in the brisk autumn breeze, he tried to moisten his dry lips, but his tongue seemed to be stuck to the roof of his mouth and was refusing to cooperate. Glancing down, he reminded himself again to relax his grip and not crush the small bouquet of late-blooming Victoria Blue sage and pink Coreopsis, hastily gathered so that his bride would feel welcomed.
Does she think of herself as my bride...or will she be counting the days until an annulment can be granted... Well, be that as it may, that just means I’ll have my work cut out for me. I’ve got to make Beth Ann Gilmore—nay, Beth Ann Maynard—fall in love with me and want to stay in Brownville as my true wife. My true wife... the words, even u
ttered in silence in his mind, filled him with a shiver of delight and he couldn’t help the silly grin that suddenly overtook his face.
Beside him, Finn turned his head, saw his expression, and snickered. “Sam, you look just like you did when we were kids at Christmas, waiting to see what was in your stocking hanging on the mantle. Or no...more like someone just put a two inch thick steak in front of you and you’re about to dig in.” He laughed at his own witticism and added, “Watch out, big brother—you might make Little Red Riding Hood turn tail and run back to Louisville.”
On Finn’s other side, Charise elbowed her husband. “Finn, shame on you! Behave and stop teasing your brother.” On the heels of that, she immediately rose up on her tiptoes to peer into the dust-obscured windows of the passenger car as it rolled to a stop.
Seeing movement inside, she squealed, “There she is! Oh, Bethie! Bethie!”
Before Sam could blink or prepare himself, the exquisite vision from his dreams stepped out of the door and perched on the top step, looking their way. Her lovely face lit up as she recognized them. “Char! Char!” she called as she lifted one hand in an excited wave, then reached out to grasp the extended hand of the conductor so that he could help her down the three steps to the platform.
Sam couldn’t seem to make his feet move until he felt Charise charge past him, followed closely by Finn, and slowly of their own accord, his legs began to carry him along in their wake.
In seconds, all was a flurry of hugs and squeals as the girls reunited. This was accompanied by introductions to Finn, and an elderly gentleman who had trailed along behind Beth Ann and stood by her side, smiling indulgently.
“Oh Finn,” Charise was saying, “this is Mr. Hinkle, the dear neighbor I’ve told you so much about—mine and Beth Ann’s surrogate grandfather. Mr. Hinkle,” she turned to the man, “what are you doing here? Did you volunteer to escort Beth on the trip...” she asked, looking from one to the other. All along, they had thought Beth Ann would be making the journey alone...
