Jodi's Journey

by Rita Hestand

  The way he had looked at her coming out of the water made her insides heat up. She didn't understand this feeling. She was not acquainted with it, so it scared her. She pulled the blanket closer and walked on up the embankment. The curiosity to turn around and look at him was tempting, but she kept on walking.

  He seemed to be gone a long time and Jodi couldn't stop herself from going to check on him. But when she saw him coming up the embankment singing, she turned and almost ran to the wagon. For nothing would she let him know she was curious about him.

  Hurriedly, she got inside the wagon, and the tears came again for some reason. She didn't want to cry, but she couldn't stop it. She supposed her condition caused it. She'd never cried this much in her life, and she couldn't get used to the mood swings.

  Had she wanted to peek at him? Had she been thrilled when he was close to her moments ago? She could not allow herself to have any feelings for this man. For any man!

  And the best way to squash them was to remember that he was a coward, and she was with child.

  There, her mind had spoken it aloud to her thoughts. She had never allowed herself the privilege of admitting she was with child. Somehow admitting it made it more real, more frightening.

  Marrying Hunt wouldn't hurt her any, though, she reasoned. Even if he wasn't the father of her child, no one else knew it. It actually afforded her a protection she hadn't bargained on.

  This child! How could she deal with these emotions swamping her day and night? She wasn't used to it. She wasn't an emotional woman; at least, she never had been, until now. The morning sickness alone could give her away. Surely it wouldn't last. She worried constantly about finding a doctor, and she was so sleepy all the time. She couldn't get enough sleep. Hunt watched her all the time. He was bound to guess, if he hadn't already.

  She hated herself for wanting to be rid of the baby. Simply hated herself. It wasn't something she should do. She hadn't been brought up that way. She knew it was a sin. But keeping Hershel Walker's baby was not something she could live with. She wanted no part of Hershel Walker or his child. Yes, it did go against everything she'd been taught about the good book, but she'd been violated and surely God would understand her motives. Wouldn't he? Although she hadn't been brought up in the church, she still believed the good book and she knew this would be a sin.

  Aborting this child would be not only a sin, but an abomination. Shouldn't she die too? A month ago, she hadn't cared whether she lived or died. Now, she was changing again. With child, moody, and sick half the time, it was too much. She had to find a way to get rid of the baby for her own sanity's sake.

  The child was an innocent baby, her mind would cry back at her. How could she even think of doing such a wicked thing? It wasn't the baby's fault. Months ago she wouldn't have dreamed she could even conceive the idea, but a few months ago, she hadn't been raped either.

  It wouldn't be fair to the child to raise it and not love it. And she couldn't love what was part of Hershel Walker. Why was life so unfair? Why couldn't she have defended herself better from Hershel? Why couldn't she have avoided him altogether?

  Remembering that night was like remembering a terrible nightmare. How had he known that Clem and the boys were gone into town? Had he watched her place as they left the ranch? And why oh why did he want her? Why wasn't one of the girls in the saloon good enough for him?

  She remembered the night to a certain point. She had finished cooking supper and was about to go to bed when he had knocked on the door, pushing his way into her home. He’d laughed at her startled gasp. She remembered smelling the whiskey on his breath as he grabbed her to him. She remembered the first hit across the jaw as she tried to push him away. She had clawed at his face, and after that, she couldn't remember anything. Had she purposely blanked it all out of her mind? No, the proof was in the bruises. He had knocked her out, that was for sure and certain. How, she didn't know. She wasn't sure if he gun butted her, struck her again, or what. But, she had been out cold and knew nothing of the taking. At least that part of it was a blessing.

  Hours later, she lay in a pool of blood, her blood. He had easily over-powered her futile attempts at defending herself. When she came to, Clem was carrying her to her bed. He cleaned her up as best he could, laid her down, and then she’d slept for a long time. Her nose and mouth had been swollen where he'd beat her.

  She grabbed her belly now, and wept for the child.

  “I don't want to do this to you, but I have to….don't you understand?” she cried. “It isn't fair…to you…to me.”

  Tears overcame her when she heard Hunt coming up to the wagon, and she knew it was him by the sound of his walking. He sort of sauntered with his hips, and his gun made a noise when he moved. She quickly dashed the tears away. She tried to look and act normal when he opened the wagon curtain she had hung for privacy.

  He looked at her thoroughly and then frowned. “We'll make camp here tonight. Start out early in the morning.”

  “All right.” She nodded. “I'll get the grub started.”

  “I'll send Matt to help you,” he added, giving her another glance.

  She nodded wordlessly and got out of the wagon, not meeting his gaze. If he saw her tears, he said nothing.

  What had she been thinking, crying like that in the wagon? Any one of the men could have disturbed her and realized there was something wrong. If Hunt knew she was upset, he didn't say anything. Instead, he watched her closely for the rest of the evening.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  “You got yourself some kind of dress you can wear to our wedding?” Hunt asked as they rode into Waco, weary and drenched with dust from the trail. She had to admit, he looked pretty good, but she was a sight.

  “No, I didn't bring dresses along on the trail!” she said peevishly.

  “Yeah, well, maybe the parson's wife can fix you something.” He glanced at her.

  “I don't see the need in dressing up at all. It's not like it's a real wedding, after all. All we need is a preacher to say the words and it's done, right?”

  He glanced at her with a frown. This certainly wasn't going to be the kind of wedding one looked forward to. Instead, Jodi acted as though she were going to a hanging. “Yeah, I reckon so.”

  Why was he worrying himself over her a dress? She wasn't exactly a willing bride and there'd be no real marriage, so why fret about a dress? Still, deep down, he wished she would want to spruce up a little. And he had a notion that if she really wanted to, she might be real tolerable in a dress. Getting married in britches just didn't look right.

  He also had to remind himself that Jodi, although influenced by his work, still thought of him as a dirty, low-down coward and it didn't look like anything was going to change that. Maybe he was the one expecting too much?

  “We don't have to get married right away, do we?” She gulped on her words.

  He glanced at her and realized she wasn't quite as willing as he'd thought back on the trail. Perhaps she was merely acting to appease him. It had worked. Sometimes he'd forget she didn't really like him.

  They'd left the boys with the herd again, as he’d explained their intentions of marriage and finding more men to help with the long drive to Abilene, Kansas. With just the two of them riding in, it had been a quiet ride, filled with some strange tension he couldn't put a finger on.

  But the quiet ended as they approached the town of Waco. It wasn't a town to get familiar with. It certainly wasn't as tame as Salado. It was wide open with cowboys looking to make a name for themselves. Guns went off all over the town; saloons were prevalent.

  “We can't leave the herd more than a night. We'll have to get this done and over with and get back. But if you want to try to find a dress and all, I could wait till tomorrow night, I suppose.”

  “No, no use waiting. I don't need a dress. I don't understand why you are so set on me wearing a dress. I'll marry in what I have,” she insisted. “If that's not good enough for you, we won't get married at all.”
/>
  He frowned again, his mouth set in grim annoyance. They had almost gotten to a point of getting along, and now this.

  ≈≈≈

  She purposely turned her attention to the town of Waco; it reeked with lawlessness and supported way too many saloons.

  She hadn't expected much, but her hopes ran high of maybe contacting a doctor here, if she could ever spare a minute away from Hunt.

  Hunt stared at her wordlessly. It was hard to read him tonight. She wasn't sure if it was the town or her that had him in knots.

  “I have some clean clothes in my saddle bags,” she explained with cold sarcasm.

  “Okay, then we'll go to the church and see about a parson.” He nodded, but his voice held little tolerance.

  Getting married should be a celebration, yet neither was celebrating.

  “Think you could pick up some men in this town?” she asked curiously as she noticed the tense lines of his face. She wished silently that the night was over and done with. It felt exactly as though she were going to a hanging. He didn't love her, she didn't love him, there was no reason for all this…except it would make the trip easier, and she knew that. If she thought too long, she might back out altogether.

  “Maybe, we'll see if there is time. It's pretty late as it is.”

  When they found a church, they stopped and went to the door.

  “Think anyone's going to answer?” she asked after he rapped several times. But then the door opened and a man with a lantern stood staring at them.

  “Yes, can I help you, brother?” The man's gentle voice rode easy on Jodi's frayed nerves.

  “We want to get married…” Hunt’s voice was deep and unemotional.

  “I see. Tonight?” The man seemed a little alarmed. He was a small man with a bald head and bushy eyebrows, yet his smile was warm on them both.

  “Yes, tonight.”

  The man looked at them, then opened the door and led them into the chapel. It was a simple church with beautiful windows and a statue of Jesus on the wall behind the altar. Jodi suddenly felt ill at ease. Getting married in a real church, it seemed wrong. But then, a lot of things seemed wrong right now.

  Hunt was different tonight, too. He was a little too friendly, helping her from her horse. She got closer to him than she wanted to, and the way he looked at her had her nerves jangling. They looked like two bobcats ready to spring on each other. The tension was so tight she wondered when it might snap.

  “You bring some other clothes with you, ma'am?” the preacher asked as he eyed them suspiciously.

  “Uh…no, we're on a cattle drive and I didn't have anything.” Why couldn't men understand? Did everyone have to make an issue of her lack of a dress?

  “I'm sure my wife can fix you up with something. She is always loaning the Mexican girls something to wear,” the preacher insisted. “I'll go get her.”

  “Really, we're sort of in a hurry.” Jodi tried to convince the preacher, but he was having none of her nonsense, as he called it, and walked out of the room.

  He came back minutes later with his wife in hand. “My wife, Ellen, can fix you up. Now, you run along with her. It isn't proper to have a wedding in men's clothes.” He eyed her up and down.

  That was the word she'd been looking for all night, proper.

  Jodi frowned, but followed the woman into a back room with half anticipation, the other dread. The woman was being so helpful, but how could she dare tell her this was a marriage of convenience, and not of love?

  “I have just the thing,” the woman was saying with keyed excitement in her voice as she began rummaging through a large chest. “It's a bridal dress that one of the girls used some time back during the war. Only” —Ellen's eyes misted— “her husband was called the very night of the wedding to the miserable war. So my husband married them and the groom ran off. Well, to make a long story short, he never came back. But at least she was married and had that much of him to remember.”

  Jodi nodded as her mind temporarily fluttered back to that time again. “The war was a terrible thing, all right.” She didn't want to dwell on the war tonight; she had enough to contend with.

  “Such a waste. It's a pity men don't ask women how to solve some of these problems, don't you think?” Ellen was saying as she watched Jodi closely.

  Jodi would have laughed at that had it not been so true.

  The woman pulled the dress from the trunk, the most beautiful wedding dress Jodi had ever seen. Her eyes were huge pools of tears as the woman spread the dress against her quilted bed. Never had she seen anything so lovely. It was all lace and beautiful white pearls. It was layered and had huge sleeves. Jodi had never dreamed of wearing anything so beautiful.

  “The Mexican women always have lavish dresses for their weddings. It's their custom. This one is beyond beautiful, isn't it?” Ellen sighed as she put it against Jodi. “And it looks like it will be a great fit for you.”

  Jodi smiled a little and tried not to be nervous. She hated admitting she liked the dress; it was too hard not to. She'd never seen anything so lovely.

  When she had the pantaloons on and was busying herself with the petticoats, she marveled. “It is lovely. Too lovely for me…”

  “Nonsense, my dear, you will look ravishing,” Ellen cried with tears in her eyes. “Oh, don't mind me. Weddings always make me cry.”

  Jodi blushed and continued to put on the dress. Trying to take her mind off the clothes and the wedding quickly approaching, she looked at the other woman. She was plain, yet quite beautiful too. Her hair was a lovely chestnut; her eyes matched. She had a sweetness about her that she imagined no one could resist. Jodi smiled at her. “Uh…Waco's much bigger than I thought. You must have a lot of businesses in town.”

  “Oh, we sure do. We have four churches, seven saloons, and a post office. We'll soon have the railroad through here, too. It's a growing town—excuse me, city.”

  “Do you have a doctor around close?” Jodi kept her voice normal, although she wasn't at all sure how.

  “As a matter of fact, just down the street. But…oh, he may not be in town, come to think of it. Once a month he goes out to the country to check on patients. Why…do you need a doctor?” The woman seemed a little alarmed.

  “Oh…I was just thinking of getting some medical supplies for our outfit. We might need them heading into Indian Territory. Maybe if we have enough time I could check him out.” Jodi tried to sound natural, although her heart was pounding just thinking about finding someone to help her.

  “Oh my goodness, I guess you might. He's right down the street.” She pointed.

  “Thank you, I'll check him out before we leave.”

  “Oh…that is so lovely on you,” Ellen said, going around her and gazing at the dress as Jodi slipped into it.

  “Kind of fancy for someone like me. I haven't been in a dress in longer than I can remember. Actually, since my ma died. But a dress like this…I'll take good care of it and be changing back into my regular clothes as soon as the ceremony is over.”

  “Nonsense, the dress isn't mine, dear. No one I know fills it out the way you do. You keep it…consider it a wedding present,” Ellen insisted, smiling at her.

  “But what about the woman it belongs to? Don't you need to return it?”

  Ellen fiddled with Jodi's hair, putting a brush to it till it shined. “You have beautiful hair; it hangs in ringlets down your back, just beautiful. But no dear. Poor thing, she wasted away when her man didn't come back. She moved away just last spring.”

  “But I can't pay for this…” Jodi insisted.

  “No need to, dear. It's a wedding present.” Ellen smiled. Jodi knew instantly that the woman would be insulted if she tried to give her money or insisted she take it back. So, she wore it.

  Jodi wanted to yank the dress off and throw it at someone, namely Hunter Johnson, but it would be so rude and it was the most beautiful dress she'd ever seen. But there seemed something wrong in wearing such a dress to a farce of a we
dding. Ellen didn't understand that this so-called wedding was just a ruse. She needed this night over with. She felt it was getting totally out of hand.

  As she entered the room where Hunt was, his face lit up when he saw her. She hadn't looked at herself, but she knew she had cleaned up well just from looking at him. His eyes burned into hers now.

  He had slicked his hair back and added a Bolero tie, and he had put on a clean white shirt and black leather vest. He looked quite handsome, even to Jodi; but then, she had always found him handsome.

  Ellen sat down at the old piano in the corner and began playing the wedding march. She was smiling at them as they joined each other in front of the altar a little shyly.

  “Well now, what is your full given name, young lady?” the preacher asked.

  “Jodi Elizabeth Ann Parker,” she muttered, hoping Hunt wouldn't remind her of her name later.

  “And yours, sir?”

  “Hunter Neil Johnson,” Hunt said, taking Jodi's hand in his.

  She sighed heavily as his large, callused hand took in the softness of a woman.

  “Where you from?” the preacher asked.

  “As of late, Esser Crossing.”

  “All right.” The preacher smiled and printed out this information on a piece of paper. “Are you of marrying age, young lady?”

  “I'm nineteen, nearly twenty,” she said, clearing her throat.

  “And you, sir?”

  “Twenty-five,” he said, still staring at Jodi.

  “Are you Christians?”

  They both nodded.

  “Good.”

  Then, the preacher smiled and began the words that would make them—

  —man and wife.

  ≈≈≈

  Hunt glanced at his bride from the corner of his eye and noticed the pink cheeks. Cleaned up, she looked beautiful with her hair hanging down her back. He'd never tell her such a thing, but he dreamed of winding his finger over those curls.

  Jodi looked solemn during the short ceremony and didn't utter a protest when the preacher told him he could kiss the bride.