by Zina Abbott
Dahlia heard Lizett suck in a breath of dismay, but she ignored it. She continued to stare at the man before her. She recognized he intended to go over and beyond what most employers would do for a severely injured employee. He spoke of the stepbrother being family, and ultimately responsible for Nathan Price if he did not recover. What he failed to recognize was, if Dahlia agreed to this course of action, she intended to take her marriage vows seriously, proxy or not. She would not abandon Nathan Price, no matter the difficulty she faced over time.
“Mr. Bainbridge, if I agree to this, and Nathan does not recover, how long would we be able to stay in the house?”
Dahlia watched Royce study her for several seconds before he answered.
“Like I said, the houses are doing no one any good vacant. If it becomes apparent Nathan is not going to recover and return to work at the mine, I will be obligated to choose another miner to live there who may then send off for a wife. Shortly before the new couple moves in, you and Nathan would be required to move out.”
Dahlia decided what she must do. She did not know what the future held; she only knew she was not willing to return to her brother’s farm to rely on his charity and deal with Jenny’s complaints. “I will agree to the proxy marriage and taking care of Nathan under the conditions you outlined, Mr. Bainbridge. I will need the financial help you indicated would be provided. I will also need some help from one of the men in the morning and evening to help turn Nathan.”
As she watched Royce wrinkle his forehead in confusion, she paused.
“Turn Nathan?”
“Yes. I took care of my father, who was an invalid on and off for years, before he died. When someone is bed-bound, to prevent bedsores, they need to be moved so the same part of their body is not pressing against the mattress all the time. His doctor claimed that, due to gravity, the blood pools at the low point if a person stays in one position too long.” Dahlia stopped and bit her lower lip. “Perhaps, Dr. Sprague can help me with that.”
“I’ll check with him. He’ll be glad to know a woman experienced in nursing injured men will be taking care of Mr. Price. If this ‘turning’ isn’t too involved, I can also ask the other men who live around you to help.”
“It isn’t complex. If they agree, please ask them to bring their wives when they come. I don’t want any questions about propriety.”
“I will.” Royce clapped his hands on his knees and rose from his chair. “Glad that’s settled. If a Sunday afternoon marriage will be convenient for you, Miss Greenleaf, I’ll leave you ladies for a few minutes to prepare yourselves for going to the train depot with me to see if the trunks have made it off the train and been delivered. In the meantime, I’ll drive down the street and make arrangements with Pastor Alwin.”
Dahlia watched Lizett also rise and clasp her hands together. “I’m delighted you could work this out, Royce. I’ll speak with Mrs. Howard about the Sunday brunch after church tomorrow. Perhaps, since you did not schedule a formal get-together for the new couples this time around, we can invite Kate’s groom to the brunch. We can make it a celebratory event, even though Mr. Price, obviously, won’t be able to join us, and Annie Flanagan insists on waiting for the priest before her sister marries Mr. O’Hare.” She raised her gaze to the ceiling and sighed. “I do wish we could get the priest here sooner. I want to see Kate settled, but I can’t wait until the first Sunday of January. If I can leave the week following Christmas, I must return home. My business, you know. If only the priest…”
As she watched Royce huff out a breath and shake his head, Dahlia dropped her head to hide her smirk. He stepped forward, reached for one of Lizett’s hands, and patted the back of it. “While we’re at the train depot, I’ll send a telegram to the Catholic church in Pueblo, Lizett. I’ll see what we can do about the priest.”
Dahlia almost laughed out loud. Oh, yes, the woman definitely had Royce Bainbridge wrapped around her little finger. However, rather than dwell on the relationship between those two, she also stood and stepped forward to catch Royce’s attention. “Mr. Bainbridge, I’d like to see Nathan. Will we be able to stop by the infirmary while we are out?”
Royce glanced at Lizett and grimaced. “I would rather not, Miss Greenleaf. Although he looks better every day, Nathan’s face and head are still quite bruised and swollen. Perhaps tomorrow, when we move him to the house after the wedding, will be soon enough.”
“Are you afraid if I see how bad he’s injured I’ll change my mind? I won’t. Mr. Bainbridge, I’ve dealt with amputations, gangrene, and recurring bouts of pneumonia. I will not be shocked by what I see, nor will I be discouraged from keeping my word.” Dahlia once again watched Royce glance at Lizett.
“I don’t think it would be wise for us to disturb him today.”
Dahlia realized he feared, with Lizett along, the woman would also insist on seeing Nathan. Where Dahlia would probably not be shocked at the sight, Lizett might react very poorly. Even though he seemed to have no compunction against telling her no, he did not wish to upset Lizett. She let the matter drop, accepting she would not see the man she married until after the ceremony that made him her husband.
Then again, from what had been described as the purpose of proxy marriages, was that not often the situation with proxy brides? “Then I will wait to see Nathan Price tomorrow.”
Dahlia next turned her thoughts to her trunks, which she hoped now waited for her at the train depot. One of them held the household linens she had hemmed and embroidered against the day she might marry. Although she had almost given up on the idea of marriage in the past few years, in her teens, her sisters had been relentless about insisting she prepare for her own household just as their mother had taught them. The items in that trunk meant there were fewer supplies she must charge at the mercantile.
The second trunk held the rest of her clothing and personal belongings, including her wedding dress. All she packed in her valise was extra underclothing and a spare blouse to go under her travel suit. If her trunks did not arrive, she would be married while wearing her present outfit.
Would it matter? In her mind, the ceremony planned for the next day was not going to be a real wedding, one where they pledged to each other. She would be the only one making the promise to love and honor Nathan, for better or worse, until death separated them. In the minds of everyone but her, this formality only served to protect her reputation while she took care of the man who had sent for her to become his wife.
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Chapter 11
~o0o~
December 17, 1881
D ahlia smiled as she caught sight of Kate Flanagan descending the last few stairs to join the boarders for the Sunday brunch. As she watched her friend link arms with the redheaded woman who was her sister, she fought back a stab of jealousy. She already met Annie Flanagan the night before. Annie had come down to supper long enough to eat her meal and prepare a plate for Kate, who stayed in bed nursing a headache.
The sisters greet the man who entered the room. Dahlia had yet to meet him, but she realized he was Michael O’Hare, the man Kate would marry. She must settle for Kate’s flash of a return smile since her former travel companion needed to focus her attention on meeting her intended in person for the first time. Besides, she knew from the conversation the day before, Lizett had planned this Sunday brunch as a way for the pair to begin their acquaintance before their wedding in two weeks.
Dahlia stared at the lace curtains behind Lizett without seeing them. Instead of being aware of the light that entered through the filmy window coverings, a mist of darkness descended upon her. She reached her right hand to rub circles over her breastbone, as if to push away the pain in her heart that she knew was more emotional than physical. Kate must wait two weeks for her wedding, meaning her fiancé now had two weeks to court her. In contrast, in two hours, she would marry a man she had yet to see, let alone meet. A brother she also had not met would stand in as his p
roxy.
Her soon-to-be “husband” would need her to care for him through a head injury from which he might never recover. He might never regain consciousness but could end up existing like a vegetable with a body that functioned barely well enough to stay alive. He might regain consciousness but be physically disabled, never again able to perform meaningful work to contribute a portion of the income they needed to survive.
Everyone she had spoken to who knew Nathan Price had assured her he was the nicest of men with a pleasant personality. However, the damage to his brain could change his personality into something entirely different, perhaps one not as enjoyable to be around. Her own father had returned from the war behaving angry and irritable much of the time instead of being the loving and laughing Papa she had recalled from before.
Then, there was that other fear: he could end up like her former neighbor, Jackson Edwards—mentally challenged, no longer able to think things through or understand many things he once knew.
Don’t borrow trouble. Wait to see what happens before you worry yourself to death.
Dahlia blinked and straightened in her chair. She knew from dealing with her father’s health all those years before his death that worrying accomplished nothing. She needed to stay positive and pray for strength that she would be able to face the challenges before her and do whatever a situation required. She needed to concentrate on Nathan, the man at risk of losing it all to this accident.
After the Flanagan sisters and Kate’s beau settled at the other end of the table, Dahlia focused on Lizett. The marriage broker appeared to be unsettled about something. Then, a second knock and the front door opening brought Royce Bainbridge into the room. Her demeanor changed like the sun rising on a darkened landscape. Between Lizett fluttering around, he greeted Kate and announced she only needed to wait one week for her wedding. The priest and others on the Friday run bound for Jubilee Springs and points west would come up as close as the train could bring them. If the tracks were not yet cleared, the rail crews would ferry passengers across the blockage until either the hand car or construction train could bring them into the station.
“Then, my sons and I can meet the train to start the journey home, ja? We have family to return to for Christmas.”
Dahlia turned to the German boarder, Mr. Braun. He, along with one son, had traveled on the same train with her and Kate to escort the other son—the man who had broken two legs in the mine collapse—to the family home to recuperate over the winter. They had planned to spend the weekend and then leave on the Tuesday train, until their departure was delayed by the train wreck.
Royce agreed and said he would make the arrangements. “I understand being required to stay in town is an unwanted expense. The men at the mine passed the hat yesterday. I have some funds to help you with the expense of extra days you will be forced to stay here.”
“Danke, thank you, but we’re fine. Give our portion to the man who is in a coma.”
Dahlia turned to Mr. Braun with a smile and muttered her thanks.
Royce expressed his appreciation with greater vigor. “I’m sure Mr. Price and the new Mrs. Price will appreciate that, Mr. Braun. Now, when Friday arrives, if you two need help transporting Gus in a litter, I’ll find a couple of men to help you with that. He has several friends who will want to see him one last time and wish him well.”
Although Dahlia did not consider herself in awe of Royce Bainbridge the way she guessed Lizett must be by the way she acted around him, she did have to admit he had a knack for solving problems and getting things done. She admired him if, for no other reason, that more than most employers, he took responsibility for his injured men. He helped them even though they could no longer work. He did not shrug at Nathan’s situation and walk away.
Dahlia recognized Clara Howard had put a great effort into making the Sunday brunch an exceptional meal to celebrate the upcoming nuptials—hers today and Kate’s the next week. As tasty as the food was, she found it difficult to concentrate on her meal and fully appreciate it.
Her stomach felt tied in knots. Within the next hour, she would become a married woman—a sort-of married woman—that the pastor wanted to remarry once Nathan regained consciousness. For now, Pastor Alwin would join her by proxy to a man who possessed no awareness of the commitment being made on his behalf. Because her trunks still had not arrived at the depot as of that morning, she would wear the same gray wool travel suit that she had worn most of the week. She would enter into a new phase of her life—one that promised nothing but an uncertain future.
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Chapter 12
~o0o~
December 18, 1881
S ince Jubilee Springs did not have a photographer in town, Nathan had not sent a photograph of himself. Other than a brief description, Dahlia did not know what he looked like. She also knew Nathan’s brother was really a stepbrother with no shared parentage. It would be fruitless to search his features for clues regarding her soon-to-be husband’s appearance. Still, it surprised her to meet the slightly-built man, not much taller than she was, with light brown hair. While she discreetly took in the sight of him, her flesh crawled with the realization that, in spite of his obvious nervousness, his red-rimmed, bloodshot hazel eyes studied her closely from head to toe. Prior to him leaving home for good, she had seen her brother, Cy, after he stayed out all night often enough to know the man in front of her had spent the evening before drinking.
Herbert, weaving unsteadily on his feet, emitted what sounded like a half-whistle, half harrumph. “Nathan did all right for himself. You look a whole lot better than I thought you would, considering how old you are and not been hitched yet.”
Dahlia felt her insides flame with anger at the uncouth comment. She squeezed her eyes shut and inhaled deeply to calm her nerves. A new worry threatened to overcome her. What if Nathan’s manner and attitude matched those of his brother? After all, they were raised together. They must have been subjected to the same influences and examples.
Royce stepped forward, half his body blocking most of Dahlia from Herbert Price’s view. “That’s enough, Mr. Price. She’s not here to listen to your assessment of her or her relationship to your stepbrother. As soon as Pastor Alwin is ready, we’ll proceed with me and Mrs. Millard serving as witnesses.”
As if on cue, the pastor walked into the vestibule and greeted Royce and Lizett. From the manner in which he asked to be introduced to both her and Herbert Price, Dahlia guessed that the man did not attend church there. Having learned there were only two churches in Jubilee Springs—this Community Church and the Catholic Church—she suspected he darkened neither door.
The pastor gestured toward the front of the chapel. “Since this is not a traditional wedding, let us all proceed forward.”
As she walked up the aisle and stood next to Herbert Price, Dahlia said nothing. She sensed, more than saw, Lizett and Royce assume their places as witnesses on either side of them. She focused her attention on the pastor, her gaze pleading with him. Please, don’t ask me to join hands with this man. Please! When he did not, she almost heaved an audible sigh of relief.
Unlike the wording of a traditional wedding, Pastor Alwin read from a page of handwritten notes she guessed he composed earlier so that the ceremony would be more fitting for a proxy wedding. The terms clarified the binding nature of the commitment on both the parties, and Herbert Price’s role in standing in for his brother. If nothing else, she learned Nathan’s middle name was Edward.
Dahlia took her turn speaking the vows. She struggled to hold in check the growing unease growing within her as the man next to her spoke his. Finally, it ended.
Pastor Alwin declared her and Nathan Edward Price to be husband and wife.
Relieved the formalities ended, Dahlia stepped to the side, away from Herbert Price.
When a hand gripped her wrist and pulled her back, she snapped her head around, her expression revealing her displeasure.
Herbert Price squeezed her flesh as he tugged her toward him.
She gritted her teeth and, barely able to contain her fury, glared as if staring down the devil. “Let. Me. Go. Now.”
“I’m supposed to kiss the bride.”
Her jaw dropping open, Dahlia stared. Did the man actually whine? She jerked her arm back toward her body, twisting in an attempt to free herself. “No!”
As he jutted out his chin in defiance, Herbert scowled. “You just got married to my brother, and I’m standing in for Nathan. Nathan would want me to kiss you.”
Gratitude flooded Dahlia when Lizett interfered by stepping forward and speaking in her no-nonsense voice. “That is enough, Mr. Price. This is not that kind of wedding, and there will be no kiss. Now, let her go.”
Pastor Alwin cleared this throat. “Mrs. Millard is correct. Under the circumstances, a kiss would not be appropriate.”
Her gaze never wavering from his, Dahlia continued to glare at Herbert. Using her peripheral vision, she watched a larger male hand grip the wrist of Herbert’s hand which held her trapped. She could not fail to appreciate his strength as he squeezed to cut off Herbert’s circulation.
The fingers of Royce’s other hand clutched Herbert’s shoulder and pressed into the hollow place next to his collarbone. “Mr. Price, let her go. If I have to tell you again, I will have your job and run you out of town on a rail.”
Dahlia suspected the quiet power behind his menacing tone of voice caused many men who heard it to quake. In Herbert’s case, his mouth gaped open with a loud grunt as he dipped the right side of his body and side-stepped in an effort to escape Royce’s grip on his shoulder. His fingers splayed as he yanked his hand away from her wrist.