Wolf Creek Wedding

by Penny Richards

  Defiance darkened Ben’s eyes. “I don’t like him.”

  “Can’t imagine why not,” Frank said. “He’s a right good man once you get to know him. Course I been knowin’ him ever since he was a little guy like you, so maybe I’m a tad partial.”

  Ben frowned. “You knew Caleb when he was a kid?”

  “Yep.”

  “What was he like?”

  “A real hard worker. His daddy was a hard taskmaster. Seen to it that Caleb did more’n his share of chores around here.”

  “I do chores.”

  “I know you do, and it’s good for you. A man’s gotta work to be able to provide for his family.”

  “My father worked for the railroad,” Ben said. “He got killed.”

  “I heard that, and I’m real sorry.” They sat in silence for a moment and then Frank said, “Your mama lost her husband and Caleb lost his wife. Seems like a right smart thing to do to get hitched up so as they can help each other.”

  Ben thought back to what his mother had said about both her and Caleb needing something the other had. Sighed.

  “Don’t give up on Caleb before you ever get started,” Frank said, slanting a serious look at Ben. “He’s got his faults, but he’s got a lotta good in him, too, and he can teach you things most boys don’t know about.”

  “Like what?”

  “Like runnin’ a farm, and gravel business. Huntin’. He knows a lot about book learnin’, too. He even taught me to read and write a bit. Smart man, Caleb Gentry.”

  A slight smile curved the old man’s mouth. Smart enough to grab up a good woman when he had the chance, whether or not he realized yet that it was a good thing.

  * * *

  While Betsy slept in her cradle and Ben went to “help” Frank and Leo, Laura sat in Abby’s lap gnawing on a hard crust of bread while she stared at a page of her mama’s handwritten recipe book. With the wheels set into motion by Caleb’s trip to town, her doubts had once again begun to creep in. She was trying hard to make herself believe the things she’d told her son, especially about trusting God that this marriage was the best solution for all involved—indeed the only solution.

  Even though she’d only been at the Gentry farm a few days, she knew that one thing she’d said was true: Caleb was a decent and good man, as his generosity proved. If he was also a hard man, well, no one was perfect, as he had pointed out by reminding her of her own quick temper and the conjecture that things had not always been idyllic between William and the children—or her and William for that matter. Though it chafed to hear it, it was true.

  At Caleb’s suggestion, she’d spent the morning hand-writing invitations to a few of her closest friends from church, asking them to come and witness the ceremony and to stay for some refreshment afterward. He’d promised to deliver the requests when he went to town. He also told her to make up a list of whatever she might need from the mercantile for the occasion, and he would go back for it the following day.

  His unexpected thoughtfulness had come as a bit of a surprise. She knew his offer meant more time away from the farm, and she appreciated his wanting to make the wedding something more than a quick, secretive affair done solely to satisfy the gossipmongers. With the town rife with rumor and a few of the people in her own church in the middle of it, Abby wasn’t sure how her invitations would be received. She was so hurt by the unexpected scandal that she was no longer sure who her friends were, or which ones were nothing more than pew warmers.

  Well, there was no sense fretting over it, she thought, putting Laura in her playpen. In a demonstration of rare wastefulness, telling herself she deserved a treat, Abby dumped out the bit of leftover breakfast coffee and set a fresh pot on the stovetop to brew.

  Resolutely, and with a deep sigh, she turned her mind back to the recipes. There was much to do and only a short time to do it. Since apples were in abundance, she would bake a fresh apple cake. She’d have Ben pick up some of the pecans from beneath the tree that grew out near the edge of the woods. Frank and Leo could shell them. She’d be making goat cheese tomorrow, which would go well with some of her muscadine jelly on fresh crackers she’d have Caleb pick up at the mercantile. She could make some small venison pastries....

  The sound of someone knocking on the door disrupted her thoughts. Getting to her feet, she headed for the parlor and opened the door to see Rachel framed in the doorway, the wide smile on her face mirroring the one in her dark eyes.

  “What can I do?”

  Abby stared at her friend in disbelief. “About what?”

  Rachel laughed. “The wedding, goose!” she said, stepping inside.

  “How on earth did you hear about it so quickly?” Abby asked, closing the door behind her friend.

  Rachel went straight to the fireplace. Though it was a glorious autumn day, there was a nip in the air. “I was on my way to the Donnellys’ and passed Caleb on the road. He gave me the highlights, so when I finished there, I came on over.”

  Still stunned by how fast news traveled, Abby gave a weak smile. “Did he tell you why we’re doing this?”

  “Of course he did. I’ve been hearing rumblings the past few days, and if it’s any consolation, I’ve been doing my best to stamp out the lies whenever I get a chance.”

  “Thank you. And thank you for coming. I’m feeling a bit overwhelmed.”

  “I’m sure you are.”

  “Come on into the kitchen. I just put on some fresh coffee, and I’ve been trying to figure out what sort of refreshments to fix. I don’t have much time, so it can’t be anything too elaborate—not that it should be too fancy considering the circumstances. I just felt I should offer something for those who accept my invitation...assuming anyone does.”

  “What do you mean? Of course they will,” Rachel said, following Abby into the kitchen.

  Abby set the coffeepot to a cooler part of the stove and turned toward her friend. “Thank you, Rachel, but even though they aren’t true, and you’re trying to stop them, it doesn’t change the fact that gossips are bandying lies all over town, and plenty of people will judge me and Caleb because of it.”

  She turned away to fetch the cups and saucers to hide a sudden rush of tears, but she could not hide the tremor in her voice. “It’s beyond me how something that started out as a mission of mercy and a way for me to provide for my children wound up as fodder for the gossip mill and a marriage between two people who’d rather be snakebit!”

  “Trust me, marriage—even to Caleb Gentry—is a much better fate than being snakebit,” the always-serious doctor said.

  The fact that the words were spoken without an iota of humor struck Abby as comical, no doubt because her nerves were shaky. A reluctant smile tugged at her mouth. “Maybe you’re right.”

  She filled the cups, set the sugar bowl on the table, punched a couple of holes in a can of condensed milk and set it next to the sugar. “Sorry,” she said. “I don’t have anything sweet. Caleb inhales anything and everything I bake.”

  Rachel groaned. “I don’t need a thing! I had a slice of pie at Millie’s.” She picked up the can of milk. “My, aren’t we uptown?” she said with a lift of her dark eyebrows. “I’m not sure when I last had this in my coffee. It’s a little pricy for a mere physician.”

  Abby knew that Rachel often went without pay or traded for her services. “Then by all means, enjoy. Compliments of Caleb Gentry.” She sighed. “I’m pretty sure he has no problem paying for it.”

  “Probably not,” Rachel said, stirring some of the thick, sweet milk into the fragrant coffee. She swallowed a healthy swig and shoved the sugar bowl away.

  “What?” Abby teased. “No two spoons full of sugar today?”

  Rachel’s gaze met Abby’s. “If I added sugar, it would be so sweet that even I couldn’t stand it,” she said with a dry solemnity that broug
ht a burst of laughter to Abby’s lips. Rachel’s love of anything sweet was well known.

  “Thanks, Rachel, I needed to laugh.”

  Rachel smiled back. “I aim to please.” She took another sip of coffee. “So tell me how it all came about.”

  Abby spent the next few moments relating the gist of her conversations with Caleb. “So, here we are. As you know, he’s on his way to see if the preacher can come out Saturday afternoon, and I sent invitations to a few people I thought might come. I was just looking through some recipes when you knocked.”

  “Tell me what you’re planning. I’ll be glad to bring something.”

  They spent the next half hour discussing things to serve. After decisions were made and Rachel volunteered to bring some serving pieces of her mother’s for the event, the hint of animation in Abby’s eyes dimmed.

  “Why the frown?”

  Abby cut a wry glance at her friend. “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe the fact that I’m marrying a stranger, or maybe because both our reputations are in ruins.”

  “‘This too shall pass,’” Rachel said. “Look, this will be the prime topic of conversation until something juicier comes along. Trust me, Abby, I know. Besides, Caleb’s family is no stranger to controversy.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Evidently when he and his brother were small, Libby Gentry left them for another man.”

  Abby couldn’t hide her shock. “B-But I thought she died. There’s a marker under the magnolia tree out back. I assumed her remains were buried there.”

  “I’ve heard that Lucas forbade either of them to ever mention her name again,” Rachel said. “He emptied the house of everything that was hers, set fire to it and buried what wouldn’t burn. I guess in a way it is her remains.”

  Abby thought of the broken shepherdess and wondered how it had escaped Lucas Gentry’s cruel hand.

  “And then there’s Gabe,” Rachel said, averting her gaze.

  The animosity in her voice drew Abby’s attention back to the conversation. There was a grim expression on Rachel’s face that was totally foreign to the woman Abby had grown so fond of.

  “His younger brother,” she said, remembering Caleb mentioning him as he’d tried to explain the lack of love in his life.

  “Yes, Gabe. Gabriel. Though he bears absolutely no resemblance to anything angelic. More like Wolf Creek’s very own black sheep.” She gave a little shiver, as if shaking off a chill or a bad memory, and offered Abby a forced smile.

  “As for marrying a stranger, I wonder if we ever really know someone until we share their life.”

  It took Abby a few seconds to realize Rachel had switched topics. “I’ve thought of that, but I’m not sure I understand how strangers...” The words dried on her lips, the same way her mouth dried up when she thought of the deeper implications of the course she had willingly chosen for herself. She tried to imagine a future with Caleb as father to a child of hers and felt a blush spread over her face. “It’s just...there should be...love.”

  Rachel nodded. “I know you loved William.”

  Abby nodded. “I did. He was a dreamer and a romantic and good to the bone. He was handsome and joyful and filled with ideas. Most of them were pie-in-the-sky aspirations, but he had a knack for getting so caught up in his dreams that he could light that same kind of fire in me—at least in the beginning. And I supported him because I loved him, and as his wife, that was part of my job.”

  “A wife’s support is always important,” Rachel said.

  “I know, and I was glad to do so, at least in those early years.” Abby gave a short little laugh and met her friend’s troubled gaze. “In all honesty, I didn’t want to leave Springfield and come here. My inheritance wasn’t large, but it would have given us a more-than-comfortable lifestyle while we both taught. But he’d read an article in the St. Louis Post Dispatch touting the fulfillment of farming. He said he was tired of academia and wanted to work with his hands, so I agreed and we came to Wolf Creek.”

  She did not say that she had awakened one day to the bitter reality that not only was the money gone, but William’s dreams and aspirations had vanished, as well. They’d been replaced by doubts and growing depression.

  “Before he was killed, I often wished he were stronger-willed and a better manager. Looking back, it’s scary how tight money has been the past couple of years.”

  “Yet you’ve always survived.”

  “Yes.”

  “And you didn’t stop loving him.”

  Abby was thoughtful as she chewed on her thumbnail a moment before answering. “No.”

  She did not tell Rachel that even though she sometimes missed him so much she ached inside, she had come to realize that her feelings had always been those of a young girl caught up in the fantasy and romance of love, a love that sometimes faltered when tempered in the fires of reality.

  “Even though you and Caleb don’t love each other, you can still have a good life together. If you ask me, there may not be any better two things to build a relationship on than mutual respect and trust.”

  Abby noted that the cynicism was back. Was Rachel referring to her relationship with her son Daniel’s father? Abby knew there was no man in Rachel’s life, and since she had offered no insight, and Abby was unwilling to ask someone and be guilty of being nosy herself, she had no idea what the situation was.

  “I pray you’re right.” She lifted her head, met Rachel’s concerned gaze and blurted, “Do you think I’m being mercenary for agreeing to marry a man who’s promised to fix all my financial woes, feed and clothe me and my children, and be a husband and father to us for the rest of our lives?”

  Rachel stared at her for a moment in stunned disbelief, and then burst out laughing. After a few seconds she grew serious and reached out to take Abby’s hand.

  “Oh, Abby! If you and Caleb were in love and he asked you to marry him, he would be doing the same thing. Besides, it isn’t as if you’re coming empty-handed into this marriage, you know. Besides working alongside him every day you’re bringing warmth and love into the home and the life of a man who needs it desperately. Never, never feel as if Caleb is the one doing all the giving.”

  After Rachel left, Abby thought long about what she’d said. She had to admit that Rachel’s perspective had taken the edge off her own anxiety. She was bringing something to the marriage. And, as hard and unapproachable as he might be, she did respect Caleb. More importantly, she trusted him. That trust engendered a feeling of safety she hadn’t experienced in a long time.

  Caleb would not be intimidated by what he confronted in life. He would look difficulties in the eye, size them up and proceed with determination and hard work to fix them, whatever they might be, just as he had when confronted with news of the scandal attached to both their names.

  It gave her some consolation that he would do no less in their marriage. Whatever problems might arise between them, she felt he would somehow do his best to fix them.

  * * *

  The next morning, Abby was washing the breakfast dishes, and Caleb had once again gone to town to get the items she needed for the wedding refreshments. Though she still had doubts and fears, her heart had been somewhat lighter since Rachel’s visit the day before. What concerns Abby could not banish, she managed to push aside with a flurry of housecleaning.

  She had just set the cast-iron skillet on the back of the stove when she heard Ben yell, “It’s Mr. Teasdale, Mama!”

  There was no denying the excitement in his voice. Ben was always thrilled to see what new treasures the peddler might have tucked away in his satchels and crates.

  Truth be told, Abby was glad to see him, too. A wee sprite of a man with a broad smile and false teeth far too big for his face, Simon Teasdale made a pass through the area every few months, bringing shoes, guns and knives for
the menfolk; pots and pans, spices, perfumes, bolts of fabric and other frippery for the ladies.

  Abby sneaked a peek at Betsy, who was asleep in her cradle, snatched up Laura and hurried to the door. Maybe he would have something suitable for her wedding, since all her dresses―including her better ones―were not only out of style, but a bit worse for the wear.

  She flung open the door. “Mr. Teasdale! It’s good to see you. Come in!”

  “Don’t mind if I do,” he said with a toothy smile. “Hello there, Ben. I believe you’ve grown a foot since I last saw you!” he said, hanging his hat on the coatrack and shrugging out of his coat. Ben grinned, anticipation glowing in his eyes. As expected, the peddler pulled two peppermint sticks from his coat pocket and handed one to Ben and one to Laura, who was still on her mother’s hip.

  With the children satisfied for the moment, Simon backed up to the small fire burning in the grate. “I didn’t know what to think when I went by your place and it was shut up tighter’n a drum. Then I went on into town and heard what happened to Mrs. Gentry.” He shook his balding head. “A pity. She always did seem such a frail sort. I always figured she was just here for a short time.”

  Abby didn’t know how to respond to that. Simon brightened suddenly. “Well, now, there’s no sense dwelling on sad things when I hear congratulations are in order.”

  Abby blushed.

  “I saw Doc Rachel in town, and as soon as I heard the news I hightailed it out here to see if I might have some female trifle you might have need of for the big day. I didn’t figure you could head off to town with two little ones in tow.”

  “It really isn’t going to be a big day, Mr. Teasdale. Just a few friends here at the house with a little refreshment afterward.”

  “Well, I have some nice cider that would be fine drinking with some cinnamon sticks and whole cloves simmered in it. The weather is perfect for something warm.” He winked. “I even have some oranges and lemons you might add.”

  “That sounds wonderful, but what I could really use is a dress.”