by Nerys Leigh
His hat suffered more squashing as he waited for his first glimpse of his new bride. He hoped she wasn’t ugly. He was a practical man and, on a basic level, one woman was as good as another. But still, since he would be looking at this one for the rest of his life, he’d prefer her to be pretty.
Then the pastor moved aside, and there she was.
Gabriel’s eyes drifted down her form and back up. Grace Myers was a sturdy woman, walnut-brown hair, not overly tall, wearing a plain green skirt and blouse with a brown jacket. She wasn’t slender like the blonde, but his tastes had always leaned toward more full-figured women anyway so that wasn’t a bad thing. She wore an unadorned hat that matched her jacket and she had a fairly pleasant, if not beautiful, face. All in all, he could have done much worse.
He nodded approvingly. Not bad. Not bad at all.
Her eyes found his as she approached with the pastor, and Gabriel smiled. Her pink, full lips turned up uncertainly. They were nice lips.
“Miss Myers,” Pastor Jones said, “may I introduce Gabriel Silversmith?”
“Mr. Silversmith, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”
Her tone was mellow and refined. A city voice. He suddenly felt very much like the country boy he was.
She offered him her hand and he quickly passed his crumpled hat into his left so he could take it, only then noticing how sweaty his palms had become. It was just as well she was wearing gloves.
“It’s a real pleasure to meet you too, Miss Myers.”
She nodded and pulled her hand away, clutching onto her reticule as hard as he was clutching onto his hat. A few seconds of awkward silence followed during which he racked his brain for something not stupid to say.
“And this is my wife,” Pastor Jones finally said, to Gabriel’s relief.
Mrs. Jones extended her hand. “We’re so pleased to welcome you to our town, Miss Myers. I hope you’ll be very happy here. Shall we go and fetch your luggage?”
Mrs. Jones continued to chat to Grace as they made their way to the baggage car at the end of the train. Gabriel was grateful for it. If he’d known how nervous he was going to be, he’d have been more prepared with something to say. He hadn’t been this way the first time around.
Three wooden trunks were being unloaded from the train. They looked expensive, overlaid with dark green leather and studded with brass. He jogged to his buckboard where he’d left it on the street and led Fred and Jed over to the small pile of luggage.
“Let me give you a hand with these,” Pastor Jones said, wrapping his hand around the handle at one end of the nearest trunk.
Gabriel took the other and they lifted the heavy box into the buckboard. As they fetched the second one, he glanced at Grace. She was still talking quietly to Mrs. Jones, although her attention was on him. She looked away quickly when their eyes met.
“You all right?” Pastor Jones said quietly as they lifted the second trunk from the ground.
Gabriel nodded a little too quickly. “Yeah. I’m… yeah.”
“It’ll work out this time.”
He wanted to ask how the pastor knew that, but he didn’t want to risk Grace overhearing so he simply nodded again. The longer he could keep his first attempt at marriage from her, the better. He knew she’d find out eventually, but he hoped she’d be good and settled as his wife before that happened.
As they loaded the final trunk, he wondered where everything would go in his small, one roomed house. He’d probably need to get more furniture. He wasn’t sure how to feel about that. He’d owned the place for two years and hadn’t changed anything in the entire time. He was used to it. It was comfortable.
He almost rolled his eyes at himself. He sounded like an old man. He couldn’t be set in his ways yet. He was only thirty-four. He didn’t plan on being set in his ways for at least another ten years. He didn’t want to be set in his ways until he was happy.
He slid the trunk into position behind the other two and again glanced back at Grace. Whether or not a wife would make him happy, he didn’t know. The first one hadn’t exactly fulfilled any of the needs he’d expected a wife to, but even then it had been nice having someone else around. Until that final day, at least.
But this time would be different. This time, he’d get things right from the start, make sure she knew what he expected of her.
This time, it would be a real marriage.
They walked the short distance to the church, Mrs. Jones and Grace in front and Pastor Jones walking with Gabriel who was leading Fred and Jed with the buckboard.
“Don’t take this the wrong way,” the pastor said in a low voice, “but I trust there won’t be a repeat of what happened last time. I’d prefer not to have another of your wives turn up at the hotel in the middle of the night, no matter what the provocation.”
Gabriel glanced at Grace ahead of them to make sure she couldn’t hear. “I handled that badly, I know. It won’t happen again.”
The pastor stared at him long enough to make Gabriel feel guilty, even though he meant what he said.
“Good,” he said eventually, “I’m glad to hear it.”
Gabriel nodded and wished they could walk faster.
When they arrived at the church, he set the brake on the buckboard and followed Grace and Mrs. Jones inside. He wasn’t a regular at church, but this one was pleasant, as far as churches went, with its cream colored walls, high arched windows and polished wooden floors. It was as good a place as any to get wed.
Grace had stopped a little way along the aisle and his eyes drifted down his soon-to-be wife’s body. She had a good figure, pleasantly rounded. He appreciated a woman who could fill his arms.
“Gabriel?”
He snapped his gaze up, startled. Had he been caught staring?
Pastor Jones edged past him in the aisle. “Would you and Miss Myers join me at the front?”
He swallowed and nodded, making a mental note to keep his eyes above the neck, at least until he and Grace were alone.
Pastor Jones and his wife headed to the platform at the front of the church and Gabriel was about to follow when an idea came to him.
Walking up to Grace, he held out his elbow. “Would you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”
Oh, that was good. He hadn’t even thought of that in advance, it just came out. He smiled, just a little bit proud of himself. He could do this romance thing, no problem.
She stared at his arm as if it might bite her, not the response he was expecting to his eloquent proposal. But then she gave him a small smile and slipped her arm slowly through his. Pleased he’d managed that much, he led her along the aisle to the front of the church and onto the platform.
The memory of his first wedding, on that very spot, flashed into his mind. He’d been sure things would work out back then. In fact, he hadn’t even considered the possibility that they wouldn’t.
He shook the thought away. Like Mrs. Jones said, he and Jo weren’t meant for each other. But second time lucky, as they said.
Or was it third?
Pastor Jones smiled at both of them. “I’ve performed many marriages since my wife and I started working with the Western Sunset Marriage Service to match women in the east with the men in need of wives here, but it still makes me happy to see two people God has brought together promise their lives to each other.”
Please don’t mention the first time, Gabriel silently begged. Maybe he should have said something before Grace arrived, but he didn’t want the pastor to think he was lying to his future wife.
“Grace, Gabriel,” Pastor Jones continued, “marriage is a sacred vow before God and a pledge to each other to stand together, as one, for the rest of your lives. Whatever may come, you will never face it alone. It won’t always be easy, but if you love and hold on to each other through it all, it will be right. Gabriel, do you have a ring? It’s all right if you don’t.”
He glanced at Grace. “Uh, no, I don’t.”
Her shoulders lowered a little and for a mo
ment he felt bad. It wasn’t Grace’s fault he’d picked the wrong woman in Jo.
Although just about the only thing that had gone right in that whole debacle had been that he’d never gone to the expense of buying her a ring. He wasn’t giving Grace one either, not until he was good and sure she’d be sticking around.
“Well then,” Pastor Jones went on, “Gabriel, would you repeat after me...”
“I, Gabriel Silversmith,” he said after the pastor, “take you, Grace Margaret Myers, to be my wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish; and I promise to be faithful to you until death parts us.”
He held his breath as Grace said her vows, part of him expecting her to suddenly change her mind. He was probably just imagining her slight pause before promising to obey him.
He finally breathed out when the pastor said, “I now pronounce you man and wife. Congratulations, Mr. and Mrs. Silversmith. May God bless your marriage with much love, happiness and joy.”
Gabriel turned to his new wife, just in case she wanted to kiss him, but all she did was give him a small smile that didn’t reach her eyes. It didn’t matter. There would be plenty of time for kissing, and more, later.
Mrs. Jones congratulated them both and then took Grace aside, speaking to her quietly.
Pastor Jones placed his hand on Gabriel’s shoulder. “I’m sure it will be different this time. Just... be patient with her. A little understanding goes a long way.”
Gabriel frowned. What did that mean? He’d been patient with Jo and it had got him nowhere. “I won’t mistreat her, if that’s what you’re thinking.”
The pastor shook his head quickly and lowered his voice. “No, that’s not what I’m suggesting at all. If I thought you were a man who would mistreat his wife, I wouldn’t have helped you find one. I’m just saying, she seems nervous. You’ll just need to give her time to get used to you and her new life. It’s a big change for her.”
Gabriel looked over at Grace where she was talking with Mrs. Jones on the other side of the church. “I will.”
Things would be different this time. They had to be.
He wasn’t doing it all again a third time.
Chapter 2
He didn’t have ear hair, at least Grace could say that for him.
She looked up at her new husband as they stepped from the church back out into the cloudy day. He was taller than her, but she wasn’t that tall to begin with. Dark, almost black hair that could probably do with a trim. A beard that could definitely use a trim, if not complete removal. Brown eyes, sun-darkened skin, lean body. Rugged, that was the word.
He wasn’t handsome in an obvious way, not like some of the men she’d met in New York who had made her think, if only she were prettier, thinner. The men who had fawned over her friends but never her. Although her mother had always said it was her attitude that put them off, not her looks. She refused to simper and swoon, no matter how handsome the man.
But she’d never quite been able to embrace her mother’s words. Good mothers always thought their daughters beautiful, no matter the reality. She’d held a fear, deep inside, that Gabriel would take one look at her and send her back on the next train, but he hadn’t. At least there was that.
Mrs. Jones took her hands and smiled. “My husband and I live just down the street, so if you need anything at all, you come to us, day or night.”
The pastor’s wife was a compassionate soul. Grace almost wished she could stay with her. “I will, thank you. You’ve been very kind.”
Glancing at Gabriel who had wandered off to his buckboard, Mrs. Jones leaned in close and lowered her voice. “He’s a bit rough around the edges, but be patient. Underneath it all, he’s got it in him to be a good man.”
Grace wasn’t sure what to make of that, so she simply replied, “Thank you. I’ll do my best.”
She followed Gabriel to the buckboard and waited. He ignored her, walked around to the other side, and climbed up to the driver’s seat.
When she didn’t move, he looked down at her. “Aren’t you getting in?”
She was so shocked that for a few moments she didn’t know what to say. Annoyance rapidly replaced her astonishment at his lack of manners.
“Aren’t you going to help me up?”
“Why? Something wrong with your legs?” His gaze went to her skirt.
She opened her mouth and closed it again. She’d have thought he was being facetious, if he hadn’t looked so completely serious. Rough around the edges indeed. Sighing, she gathered her skirts and climbed up beside him. Patience, she reminded herself, glancing over at Mrs. Jones where she stood beside the pastor at the church door.
Mrs. Jones gave her a small shrug and a sympathetic smile, and waved. Grace waved back as they pulled away, feeling a little bereft at leaving the woman who’d been so kind to her, and more than a little nervous at the prospect of being alone with the man she’d just married.
They reached the end of the road and turned right onto a busier thoroughfare. There were more people here than she’d seen in the town so far, and shop fronts lined the street. They passed a post office and Grace reminded herself to write to her father when she reached her new home to let him know she’d arrived safely. As if he cared.
“I have to make a stop first, but then we’ll head home,” Gabriel said, guiding the buckboard left into a side road. Fifty yards or so later he brought them to a halt and set the brake. “I’ll be right back.”
She watched him jog up a path lined with fruit bushes to the front door of a small house and knock. There were four trees crammed into the modest sized garden, two apples and two oranges. The owners clearly loved their fruit.
A tall thin man opened the door. Gabriel spoke to him and he was replaced by a short round woman who handed him a serving dish covered with a red checked cloth. As Gabriel walked back to the road, the woman waved to Grace with a warm smile. Grace waved back. The residents of the town seemed friendly enough.
Gabriel lodged the covered serving dish amongst her luggage and climbed back up beside her. The most incredible aroma rose to caress her nasal passages.
“What’s in the dish?” she said, twisting around to get a better nose-full of the delicious smell.
He clicked his tongue to the horses and they started off again. “Beef stew. Best you’ll ever taste.”
She glanced back at the house. “Who were those people?”
“Mr. and Mrs. Goodwin. Mrs. Goodwin is the best cook this side of, well, anywhere. She likes to welcome new people to the town with her stew. She told me to stop by before we left.”
“It smells delicious.” She took another deep breath of the wonderful aroma.
“Tastes even better, believe me.”
The houses either side of the road they followed stretched farther and farther apart and soon petered out altogether as they left the town behind them. Green Hill Creek could hardly be classed as a metropolis. From what Grace had seen, it barely qualified as a town. Still, she liked the countryside so that wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. When she was younger she’d often accompanied her parents on trips out of the city, and she always enjoyed the feeling of space and freedom from the dirty, crowded New York streets.
She looked out over the cultivated fields they drove through to the mountains beyond and drew in a deep breath of clean, fresh air. Yes, she could definitely get used to this.
“How far is your house?” she asked, watching a shimmering blue butterfly flit past.
“’Bout an hour or so out of town, depending on how fast you go.”
She whipped her head a round to gape at him. “An hour?”
He nodded, seemingly oblivious to her shock.
She tried to remember if he’d mentioned the remoteness of his home in any of the letters she received from him but came up empty. There hadn’t been many of them, and his were never very long or detailed. Surely she would have noticed if he�
��d said he lived a whole hour from civilization.
“Are there other houses around yours?” Maybe he lived in a hamlet, away from the town but close to other people.
“Nope, nothing out there except for my place. It’s up in the foothills, too rocky for farming or ranching. Most of the folks round here are either farmers or ranchers or work in the town. There are the men who work in the mines, but a lot of those have closed down, now it’s getting harder to find the gold.”
She looked at the mountains again. They had seemed pretty, but now they appeared barren and remote. “Will we be coming into town much?”
“You can go in whenever you like. I’ve got a buggy you can use.”
“On my own?”
He glanced at her. “Sure. Is that a problem?”
Back at home she’d rarely gone out alone. It just wasn’t done.
But this was a long way from New York and she wasn’t some simpering, helpless woman who couldn’t take care of herself. “No, it’s not a problem.”
He nodded and looked forward again and she lapsed into silence. It wasn’t a problem. She was a strong woman. She’d run her father’s household for the past seven years, she could cope with whatever life threw at her. Fear was a perfectly normal response to a situation such as traveling clear across the country to marry a man she’d never met and then being faced with the prospect of living miles from anyone else. It was no problem at all.
As the horses continued to plod in the direction of her new home and Gabriel failed to offer up anything more in the way of explanation as to his living situation, she began listing in her mind the good things about being there, on the way to her new home in the middle of nowhere, miles from anyone else.
1) The scenery was stunning.
2) Gabriel wasn’t hideously ugly.
3) The scenery was stunning.
4) The scenery...
She sighed quietly. This wasn’t going to be easy.
~ ~ ~
“There it is,” Gabriel announced.
