by Linda Broday
She loved the hope and courage of his dream. That was what had sold her on this crazy idea.
Now, in Tally’s home, everyone was talking and laughing. Josie put an arm around Tally and spoke of old times. Oh, how Adeline wished to join in. To be normal. But she wasn’t. Maybe she would be eventually. It frightened her to think that this paralysis might last the remainder of her life. She didn’t want to live this way.
“Oh my goodness, look at the time! We’ve got to get you ready.” Josie pulled Nora over to Adeline. “You fix hair so beautifully. Do you mind arranging her hair while we get the dress out?”
“I think you have me confused with Rebel.” Nora laughed. “That woman is the best I’ve ever seen. But since she’s not here, I’ll try my hand.”
“You’re a dear. Where is Rebel?” Josie picked up the white box and moved it to the bed.
Tally tucked a strand of her red hair back into the low knot on her neck. “That’s right, you don’t know. Rebel and Travis had a baby boy a while back, and he’s not feeling well.”
Josie’s smile stretched. “That’s wonderful news. I know how much she wanted another child. What did they name him?”
“Rafe.”
“I love that.” Josie pulled the wedding dress from the box.
Adeline felt as though she stood in the middle of a swirling tornado with chaos all around. The small room couldn’t hold all the ladies and the talk both. They meant well, though, and despite the noise, she was truly grateful for the help.
Two hours later, she stood before a mirror and did not recognize the woman staring back. The spring-green dress was gorgeous in its simplicity. Someone—Tally, she thought—called it “understated elegance.” The scooped neckline wasn’t low, yet it showed off the long curve of her neck. Nora had brushed her blond tresses until they shone and worked magic in arranging them in loose curls that cascaded like a waterfall from the crown of her head.
Never had she considered herself anything but homely. Yet she found the word fetching coming to mind now.
She turned to her new friends, blinking back tears, and took their hands. No words were needed. They understood and hugged her.
“Now go and marry that handsome man of yours.” Josie wiped her eyes. “In no time, he’ll be the love of your life.”
Adeline didn’t know about that. She didn’t know if love existed for her, or even what it would look like if it did. If it was what her mother and father had, she didn’t want it. They lived bitter, rigid, judgmental lives. She’d do without that and live in silence before turning into them.
Although fear tried to take root, she pushed it away. An inner voice told her to take heart and trust that this marriage would work out. Until she had reason to think otherwise.
* * *
The sun was welcome on Adeline’s face and helped melt the ice inside her as she stood on the bluff next to Ridge. Panic set her heart pounding. Whether this decision was right or wrong, it was too late to change her mind. All that remained now was to make the best of it.
Her groom looked resplendent in a white shirt and dark frock coat. He’d left his twin Colts off. He’d told her a gun was necessary here, but he hoped with the coming changes, he would have to wear it less and less. She prayed for that. Guns terrified her, and she wanted to throw them all into a fire and melt them.
Ridge shifted and glanced down at her. “You’re a beautiful angel, Adeline. Green looks real good on you.” His voice was low and rough, and he winked. “Don’t worry. I’ll watch over you, trust me on that.”
Trust. There was that word again. She trusted few people.
She stared at him for a moment before sliding her palm into his hand, and warmth flowed into her. Her fingers curled as though they’d found a refuge. Slowly, she relaxed and focused on the minister’s words. The Lord’s Prayer—the devotion that had seen her through the darkest days and given her hope—faded into the background. For now, she was safe in her new home and she gave thanks.
As Brother Paul moved into the wedding vows, she nodded in all the appropriate places. Ridge spoke his clear answers in a ringing voice, as only men trained in preaching the Good Word were wont to do. Maybe in time, he could find his way back. If that’s what he wanted.
She’d learned a long time ago that a church was only a building. It was the spirit inside that either made it a holy place or a rigid prison. Hers had been the latter.
The ring Ridge pulled from a pocket surprised her. Where she came from, no one was allowed to wear jewelry of any kind. It was a simple silver band, and though she knew better than most how fleeting happiness was, she felt cherished when he slipped it on her finger.
If he could show her kindness, she’d not ask for anything else.
“This is a forever marriage, pretty lady. You and I,” he whispered.
The solemn words startled her. All her life she’d yearned to belong to someone kind who wanted her. Someone who would stand with her to watch each sunrise and sunset, who listened to her wants. Ridge Steele did appear to be this kind of person. The tenderness he’d shown her so far brought tears to her eyes. But had she been locked away too long to recall how deceitful men could be? If Ridge Steele kept the promises he’d made, she’d not ask for anything more from him except time to heal and mend her broken spirit.
“You may now kiss the bride.” Brother Paul closed his Bible.
Ridge lowered his head and lightly pressed his lips to hers, sealing the vows. Adeline let her eyes drift shut and soaked up the new sensations. If Ridge never kissed her again, she’d have this one to remember.
Her mother’s admonishment sounded in her head. Once you’re married, your husband owns you. Remember that, girl.
Ridge released her and she studied his amber eyes. Vows or no vows, if he turned out to be cruel, she’d leave and never look back.
She was done with being owned.
Five
A celebration commenced directly following the noon wedding, complete with music, dancing, and tables laden with food. Ridge kept an eye on Adeline, making sure she wasn’t alone for too long. The womenfolk had included her in their circle with lots of laughter and talking, but when he saw her looking around for him, he pushed away from the post where the men had gathered and went to her.
He offered his hand. “Mrs. Steele, I believe you owe me a dance.”
She glanced up with relief and stood. Then before she could take a step, panic darkened her eyes, and she shook her head.
“It’ll be fine,” he replied. “Hell, I don’t know how either, but I’ll bet we figure it out.”
Tally lent gentle support. “Give it a try, dear. None of us are experts. It’s the custom to dance with your new husband.”
Finally, Adeline forced a smile and gamely took his hand. Her body had the tension of someone walking the gallows’ steps. “Relax. I won’t bite. Listen to the music.”
She stared up at him and came into his arms, her body warm against him. Slowly she began to relax.
The waltz was a beautiful dance and his favorite, but he wanted to put her more at ease. “We’ll just stand here and sway to the music if it’s okay with you. My knee’s been acting up.”
The suggestion seemed to take the pressure off. She relaxed and moved in his arms to the sweet strains of the fiddle. The fragrance of wild roses and sage drifted on the breeze as the musicians filled the air with song.
Ridge lowered his head, resting his cheek against her soft blond hair. “We won’t stay long, just enough to keep from being rude. These people are our friends, and they’re happy we found each other. I’ve been a bachelor for a long time.” He chuckled. “The ladies think I need a woman to take me firmly in hand. Don’t know where they got that notion. The least I can do is show my appreciation for the midnight oil they must’ve wasted on putting this shindig together.”
His pretty wife
leaned back, staring up into his eyes, a solemn expression on her face. She stopped moving and pulled her hand from his, placed her palm over his heart.
“You saying I have a good heart?”
She nodded and gave him a brilliant smile that took his breath.
“We might just work out a sign language before you know it.” Suddenly, he knew they’d be okay even if she never spoke aloud again. Clay had been right in suggesting the best communication didn’t involve words.
The feel of her lips under his would forever remain in his head.
They waltzed twice more, and the third time, Adeline caught the hang of the wide, sweeping circles. Her eyes sparkled, and her face glowed with happiness. He’d wager that this was probably the most fun she’d ever had. But she was getting tired, and her feet began to drag.
“Let’s go home.” He rested a hand lightly on the small of her back and led her to the horses. Well-wishers followed the couple, laughing and pelting them with rice.
Ridge took the long way, pointing out some things, showing her the parcels of land he was selling at the land office. Heeding Clay’s advice, he spoke in a soft tone so she could get used to his voice. He talked about what he hoped to accomplish—and a little of his fears.
Not enough to frighten her. Shielding her from those was foremost in his mind.
“I have dreams, Adeline, but whether or not I achieve them depends on things I cannot control.” He reached for her small hand. “The law tends to leave us alone for the most part, but occasionally they ride in with warrants. How long I’ll escape their notice is anyone’s guess.”
She tried to reply but the words wouldn’t form. He kicked himself that he forgot to bring some paper and a pencil, because her thoughts were important.
“It’s okay, I have plenty of time.” He kissed her fingers. “I’m just glad you came.”
Her nod came first, followed by the kind of smile that made him happy to be alive.
Finally, he turned the buggy toward their home and helped her down at the front door as the sunset provided quite a show of purple and orange streaks across the wide prairie sky.
“Go on inside. I’ll take care of the horses and get them bedded down. I’ll bring your trunk in when I’m done.”
Adeline nodded and turned. Still silent, still haunted by whatever had happened to her. But she had smiled several times today, and that huge improvement gave him hope.
When he returned with the trunk, the aroma of coffee filled the air. The welcome surprise nearly knocked him down. He saw no sign of her and didn’t know where else to set her things except at the place she’d chosen under the stairs, so he left the trunk there. The door was closed, but he imagined that was where she’d gone. Sadness pushed out his earlier optimism. Was this to be permanent, her drifting through the rooms like a ghost? Were they doomed to live separately in the same house? He didn’t know if he could take that.
Upstairs, the bedroom showed no sign she’d been there. He followed the aroma tickling his nose back down, pausing to put his ear to the door of her little space. No sounds came from inside. Maybe she’d gone to sleep.
As he filled his cup from the coffeepot in the kitchen, he heard the faint meows of a cat. Curious, he opened the door that led onto the back stoop and found Adeline sitting on the top step, holding a small kitten. A yellow mama cat sat in front of her, calmly grooming herself. Adeline startled and glanced up at him, pure joy lining her face. You’d think someone had given her a fortune in gold dust, not a scrap of yellow fur.
Maybe they had.
Careful not to slosh his coffee, he stepped out and settled beside her. “Thank you for making this. I love the stuff any time of day. You did a great job too.”
Adeline put her fingers flat to her lips, then brought them out toward him.
“What are you saying?”
She did it again and then once more, clearly frustrated.
“Hold on a second.” He went in the house and came back a moment later with paper and pencil.
She wrote: “I was saying thank you for the compliment. I’m glad it tastes all right. I haven’t made it in a long while.”
“It’s the best I’ve had.” Ridge took another sip. “I’m happy you’re making yourself at home.”
Addie bent over her paper then handed it to him. “I want to know your rules.”
Shock rippled through him. He set his coffee down and stared into the distance, an ache in his chest. The question, as well as her look of defiance, rattled his calm. “I have none,” he answered quietly. “I’m not your keeper. Feel free to do whatever you want here—all of this is yours. Do as you wish, come and go as you please.”
It was her turn to look surprised. She wrote: “You will never own me.”
“No one owns you! Not me. Not anyone. Don’t you get it? You’re free.” Anger rose and sharpened his tone, which he instantly regretted. He’d already broken one of his vows to never raise his voice to her. Dammit! But just the thought that someone had planted that notion in her head made him see red.
It would take time to sink in that she was a free woman. Maybe if he repeated it each day, she’d come to believe.
Silence grew thick between them as Ridge worked hard to rein in his temper. Adeline focused on the kitten, holding it against her cheek. When at last she met his gaze, her pretty green eyes were large, but at least he couldn’t see any fear in them.
“I apologize for that outburst, but I don’t hold with the thought of anyone owning another. Why would you say that? Who put that drivel in your head?”
She lowered the kitten and picked up the pencil. “My father. He owned all of us.”
Everything inside Ridge stilled. What had she gone through—even before prison? And what in God’s name had they accused her of?
“My mother says a husband owns his wife.”
The mama cat brushed against his pant leg, her tail curling around it. He stared down at the new scribbles, heartsick. “Adeline, I don’t know how you lived before, but here you’ll always be free. Your voice is as loud as mine.”
She hugged the kitten, gazing out at the barren landscape. He could feel the war going on inside her. Would they be able to come to a point where she could trust him and believe what he said?
“Where did you live before prison? Do you still have family?”
Her face froze. She wrote “NO” in bold letters, breaking the pencil lead with the force of her press, and jumped to her feet. Clutching the kitten to her breast, she opened the door to the kitchen.
“Adeline, those are…” She vanished inside before he finished lamely, “…outside cats.”
The mama cat barely made it in after her before the door slammed, leaving Ridge alone in silence.
Hell!
He’d asked too much, too soon. Judging from her reaction, her life must’ve been a nightmare. Thick anger choked him. If she wanted to turn the house into a wild animal sanctuary, if she needed life around her, he wouldn’t object.
Ridge stood and walked to the barn. Physical labor was what he needed—the harder the better. Maybe dig another well, much deeper this time. Or perhaps build a new barn he didn’t need. Anything to keep himself from thinking about Adeline’s past.
* * *
Adeline found a box in the kitchen and lined it with a tattered, old blanket she’d found lying in a corner, then she took it to her little space. The cats would sleep with her.
She was sorry for being rude to Ridge, but she wasn’t ready to answer any questions. Her life before was dead to her, and she’d already said far too much. No one would ever believe the kind of oppression she’d lived under—always watched, everything scrutinized, the tiniest things criticized, the punishment.
Why hadn’t she left? She should’ve just run.
The answer was the children. She had been trying to save them, to b
e their voice. Instead, she’d condemned them to even more cruelty and pain. Everything seemed so hopeless.
Pain cut into her like a dagger. The hated sound of her father’s sharp voice sounded in her head. “You’re willful and rebellious, Adeline. Public whippings fail to rein you in. I’m using my influence to have you sent where there will be nothing for you to do except reflect on your sins and get your soul right. But I can make all this go away if you tell me where to find my son.”
She’d faced him defiantly and spat, “I didn’t kill Jane Ann. You know I didn’t. You pound the message into people’s heads to tell the truth while you lie over and over.”
A chilling grin had curved Ezekiel’s mouth, and his brown goatee twitched. “The judge believes what I tell him. I’m a holy man of God.”
Sarcastic laughter bubbled up inside her at the memory. She sat on the floor and rocked the kitten, taking comfort in the small, warm body.
Not long after, she heard the back door open and some banging. She put the kitten in its box and went to the kitchen to see Ridge struggling to wrestle a wooden bench inside; only the door wouldn’t stay open. She hurried to hold it for him.
He set the bench down on the floor and wiped his brow. “Thanks for the help. This is all I can find at present for your space, but I’ll do better. At least you won’t have to sit or lie on the floor. I can fix it up for you.”
Adeline swallowed hard, guilty at making extra trouble. He was trying to please her, and she kept begging for more and more patience. She couldn’t speak, couldn’t dance, couldn’t talk of family. Heavy sadness dropped around her.
She couldn’t sleep in his bed.
Ridge took her hand. “Do you mind if I call you Addie? It seems to fit you.”
Adeline curled her fingers against his palm. She liked the shortened version of her name—especially the way Ridge’s husky voice made it sound.
“I’m sorry for pushing you,” he went on. “I am curious about you, where you come from, and your family, that’s all. But we can talk whenever you’re ready.”
