by Annie Boone
Jemma nodded and followed Janine into her bedroom. They laid the dress out on the bed. She ran her hand over the fine fabric, lightly fingering the tiny white flowers.
“Janine, it’s truly too exquisite. This is too much. How can I ever repay you? You are suggesting to gift me with a wedding dress?”
“I’m telling you that I bought it with you in mind. Never mind that I hadn’t met you yet.”
Jemma just shook her head in wonder.
When Janine had finished buttoning up the back of the dress she turned Jemma around and said, “Look at you, soon to be Mrs. Nick Jansen. You are stunning.”
Jemma couldn’t believe what she was seeing in Janine’s mirror. The dress fit her as if it had been made especially for her. There wasn’t one alteration that needed to be made.
“The dress is decided. Now let's get down to the rest of the details. This is so exciting, Jemma! Thank you for allowing me to be a part of it!”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Evelyn and Sam Braithewaite arrived on the one o'clock train on Friday. Jemma, Nick, Tim, and Delilah were there at the train station to greet them. Jemma couldn’t believe it had been four months since she had seen her parents.
As they stepped off onto the platform, Jemma thought her father looked good even though he did seem to lean heavily on his cane. Her mother looked rested and well.
The elder Braithewaites were overcome with joy and sorrow at the same time. They were meeting one grandchild for the first time and realizing that Tim wouldn’t remember them. Their family was partially whole again, though the two missing members would always be remembered.
After the official introductions were made there in the train station, Jemma and the children led Evelyn to the wagon. Nick and Sam worked with the porter to get their baggage retrieved and loaded onto the wagon. It was a tight fit, but they all found a spot and made the short journey to the Silver Dollar Inn where Sam and Evelyn would be staying.
They enjoyed a lovely supper prepared especially for them by Cook. It was served in a quiet corner of the dining room after they were settled and comfortable.
Supper was a lively affair with everyone catching up on the latest news and getting to know each other. When Delilah realized the significance of having grandparents, she turned into Evelyn’s shadow. It was clear that a real bond was being formed and Jemma was thrilled to see it happening.
After supper, the group was retiring to the owner’s parlor in the back of the building. They’d spend time getting to know Emil and Bonnie – more family.
Nick looked at Sam as he was about to follow his wife out of the dining room. He stepped over to him and put his hand on the older man’s shoulder.
“Mr. Braithewaite, sir, before we join the others, could I please have a word with you?”
“Of course, son,” replied Sam.
“I suppose this is a little late in coming, but I’d like to ask your permission to marry your daughter, sir. I love her and I promise to treat her like the treasure she is. Will you give us your blessing?”
“How proper of you to ask,” Sam chuckled. ”Of course, I give you my blessing, Nick.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“Nick, I've had a lot of time to think over the past four months. In the past, there were a lot of things I didn’t do that I wanted to. Like go out to Lewiston to see my son. So now I’m determined to make the most of the time I have left. Life is just too short to not cherish those you love. I’ve spent too much of my life just working to live. I want to enjoy my family.”
“Well now, Sir, we could always use a Clock and Cutlery Shop here in Cutter’s Creek. We are a growing little town. You, Mrs. Braithewaite, and your hard work would be welcome here.”
Nick wasn’t sure how his suggestion for Jemma’s parents to move here would go. But he’d already been thinking a lot about it. It was one way to have the children's whole family in one place. Seemed to him that this family had been separated for too long. He looked at Mr. Braithewaite trying to read his reaction to his suggestion.
Sam’s face erupted into a huge smile. “You have a fine idea there, son.”
“Thank you, Mr. Braithewaite. I thought so.”
“Did my daughter have anything to do with your suggestion?” Sam asked.
“Actually, I’ve not spoken with Jemma about it. But I can promise you she would be thrilled at the idea of her parents being right here with us.”
“I’m sure Evelyn would be equally happy with that sort of arrangement. When Evelyn and I first got married in Chicago, the side of town we built our home reminds me of Cutter’s Creek. That was over thirty years ago. It would be like our early years together if we moved here.”
Let's not say anything to the womenfolk just yet,” Sam suggested. “I wouldn’t want to get their hopes up if it isn't going to happen.”
“I understand,” Nick said. “It's just between us men.”
***
The next day, Nick’s entire family was at the inn to meet Jemma’s parents. It was as if all of them had known each other their entire lives. Bonnie and Evelyn immediately connected with each other and began talking about the plans for the wedding. Everything was set for the ceremony at the end of church service tomorrow with the town picnic to follow.
“It will be the perfect time for you to meet everybody,” Bonnie explained.
“When Jemma told me of the plans I thought it was the most brilliant idea.”
“Nick and Jemma are the toast of the town right now. It's been a perfect way to let the townsfolk celebrate them and their special day.”
“I’m so pleased that Jemma is marrying into such a lovely family,” said Evelyn. “It means so much that you’re taking her in as your own.”
“I can’t imagine a better daughter-in-law. To tell the truth, I was hoping for this from almost the moment I met her. I fell in love with her before Nick did,” Bonnie laughed.
And then Sunday finally arrived. Jemma was in the suite of rooms she and the children had first occupied when she arrived in Cutter’s Creek four months ago. Janine and Evelyn were both there to help her get ready.
Evelyn couldn’t believe how beautiful the gown Janine had given Jemma was. She saw the beautiful friendship that had blossomed between the two young women and was so grateful for it.
Nick, Sam, Bonnie, and Emil had already gone to the chapel. The children were with Thad. He’d gallantly volunteered to handle all four children.
Janine had planned for the bridal party to arrive a little late to the chapel and slip in the back door after the church service had started.
“Nick can't possibly see you before the wedding,” Janine explained romantically.
“It is amusing to me, Janine, that with most things traditions are so casual here in Cutter’s Creek. But with this, you want to hold on to the old fashion way of doing things.”
“Well, of course I do. I’m I true romantic at heart you know.”
All of the ladies laughed at her sweet sentiment.
The Reverend Locket kept his sermon and stories to the shortest version possible. He nodded to Jemma and she slipped out the chapel door.
“Now as you know, today is the wedding day of Mr. Nick Jansen and Miss Jemma Braithewaite. They’ve kindly asked me to perform the ceremony as they take their vows. It’s my pleasure to do so.”
He gestured for the piano to start and for everyone to take their places.
Nick walked to the front of the chapel. Tim and Delilah joined him. Together they turned around to look at the chapel door.
Jemma was waiting by the door for her father. He came out and stopped to take in the vision of his beautiful daughter.
“I’m so happy for you, Jemma.”
“Thank you, Father.”
“The Lord might have taken one son, but he’s blessing me today with another.”
Jemma’s eyes brimmed with tears.
“Now don’t you cry, my dear. This is a happy day. A happy day, indeed.” He pa
tted her hand and pulled her toward the door.
When they heard the music begin to play, Jemma and her father started the short journey down the aisle.
Jemma saw Tim, Delilah, and Nick waiting beside Reverend Locket.
Her father kissed her on each cheek and gave her hand to Nick. Tim grabbed Jemma’s other hand and Delilah walked to Nick’s side and held his hand. Everyone was in place.
“Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to unite this man and this woman in holy matrimony. The joining of this man and this woman and the addition of these two children will create a family before God and all these witnesses.”
Nick looked at Jemma with tenderness and love. “Yes, I take all three of you to be my family. Becoming a family with you is the best gift I’ve ever received,” said Nick when it was his turn to take his vows.
“I now pronounce that these two are man and wife and caretakers of these precious children. A family. What God has joined together, let not man put asunder.”
Thank you for reading Becoming a Family in the Cutter’s Creek Series. We are having so much fun writing these stories and hope you are falling in love with Cutter’s Creek just like we have.
If you’ve missed the other stories in the Cutter’s Creek Series, you can find them all on our Amazon Page.
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To keep you informed about what’s coming next in the Cutter’s Creek series, Book 7 will be ready for you in early August. Read an excerpt to see a little about what to expect!
The Betrothed (Cutter’s Creek, Book 7)
By Vivi Holt
Chapter Four
Greyburn, England
1867
The next day, Charlotte rose early and hurried downstairs in her riding habit. Her parents weren’t up yet, and would likely take their breakfast in their rooms. They rarely came downstairs before eight o’clock. She strode into the dining room, where an assortment of breakfast foods were already displayed, in case any of the family did decide to eat in the dining room. She grabbed a hot bread roll, and quickly slathered it in creamy, yellow butter. Mary came in through the swinging kitchen door.
“Good morning, Lady Charlotte.”
“’Morning Mary.” She took a huge bite of the roll and the butter dripped from her chin to the floor below.
Mary made a tutting sound, and handed her a napkin. “Really, Lady Charlotte. Just because your parents aren’t down yet, you could still sit at the table and eat like the Lady you are.”
“Can’t today, Mary. I’m heading out on Amber.” She smiled, and wiped her chin with the cloth.
Mary passed Charlotte a small cup filled with hot chocolate, balanced on a matching china saucer. “Here you go, M’Lady.”
“Thank you.” Charlotte took a few sips, and lay the cup on the sideboard as she skipped from the room still munching on the roll.
“Where shall I tell your parents you’ve gone to, M’Lady,” Mary called after her retreating form.
“I thought I’d ride into the village. I won’t be long.”
As she ran down the manor’s front stairs, and onto the crunching gravel of the drive, Charlotte’s smile faded. She really needed to get away. She still couldn’t believe her parents were forcing her to marry the Duke. They’d always seemed so patient and understanding with her over the years, she hadn’t seen it coming. She pushed the last bite of the roll into her mouth as she marched into the stables. Whinnies emitted from each of the stalls, and several heads appeared over the ropes of each loose box. Ears pricked forward, and noses sniffed the air for some hint of a treat.
“Hello darlings, I hope you all slept well. Amber, my dear, are you ready for some fresh air?”
She patted each forehead, and slipped the horses a piece of carrot before stopping at Amber’s stall, and rubbing her chestnut forelock and the long white blaze that reached from her ears to her nose and covered her entire snout. She pulled a long carrot from her pocket and watched with contentment as the horse consumed it in two bites.
Charlotte collected the saddle and saddle rug from the back of the stable, where she’d hung them the previous evening, and hurried to saddle Amber. Before long, they were on their way, and Charlotte smoothed her skirts down over both legs. She wished for the umpteenth time that she didn’t have to ride side-saddle. She didn’t understand why women had to ride in such an awkward manner, when men could always ride astride, and shout hurrah, and stand in the stirrups to jump over hedges or fences, and be as wild as they pleased. She sniffed, and leaned forward over Amber’s neck with a sly glance at the manor on her right.
“Hurrah!” she shouted, slapping the horse’s neck with the ends of her reins. Amber leapt forward, into a gallop, and they careened down the driveway toward the lane with Charlotte clinging to her back and grinning in delight.
The lane that led from the manor to the village of Greyburn was quaint and winding. It crested hills with bursts of wildflowers lining its banks, and delved into fells and woodlands where butterworts, bluebells and mosses were interspersed with the occasional oak tree.
Charlotte and Amber trotted along, enjoying the solitude and the beauty of the untamed countryside. A grand lake stretched out along the left side of the road, and Charlotte sighed deeply as she imagined herself swimming through the frigid waters, and frolicking with friends on the sunny banks in the summer time as the villagers sometimes did. If only it were proper for a lady to join them. She frowned. It seemed nothing of any interest was proper for a lady to do. And now she was to be married. No doubt she’d be a mother before the year was out, and then she’d never get to go anywhere or do anything fun. She’d enjoyed a relative amount of freedom living at Bainbridge Manor, but as the Duchess of Northerington, she knew that would likely change.
Although, she thought she would probably enjoy the time they’d spend in London, other than that, the restrictions she knew would be placed on her life made her feel as though the breath was being squeezed from her lungs. She clawed at the restrictive corset that dug deeply into her abdomen, desperately seeking air. She slipped from the mare’s back, and leaned up against an aged timber fence that lined the lane, her chest heaving. She felt the hot, wetness of tears on her cheeks, and quickly dashed them away with the back of her hand. Her life felt as though it were no longer her own. She belonged to another, and she had no choice about the direction of her future. Her destiny was in the hands of a man she could barely tolerate. The thought filled her with despair and made the tears fall heavier still.
Before long, she wiped her cheeks dry with a handkerchief, which she shoved back into her jacket pocket with resolve. She knew that she had no choice about whom she would marry, or when. But she did have a choice about how she’d act and she wasn’t going to cry over it. Something her grandmama used to tell her, when she was a child, came back to mind as she stood, staring out over the great lake and the wild, green gullies and rocky crags surrounding it.
“You may not choose your circumstances, my dear Charlotte, but you can choose how you behave.”
She considered those words now, and calmed her breathing. Perhaps she had no say over her own life, but she did have a choice about some things. And perhaps the Duke could be encouraged to her way of thinking, in time. He seemed amiable enough. She scurried back to where Amber was standing, grazing along the side of the lane, and swept up onto her back. With a yell, she kicked her forward, and the two of them thundered toward the village, nestled on the edge of the valley ahead.
The lane turned sharply as it entered the village of Greyburn, and Charlotte pulled hard on Amber’s reins to slow her down and make the corner. As they rounded the corner, a man stepped out to cross the l
ane. Amber’s hooves clattered loudly on the cobblestone, and he glanced up in surprise, jumping backward out of the way as they passed.
“Hey, watch it!” he yelled.
Charlotte waved her hand in apology.
“Whoa, whoa there,” she called to the horse as it slowed its headlong pace, and relaxed into a trot down the main street. Charlotte breathed a sigh of relief, and let the reins drop loosely beside Amber’s neck as she reached forward to stroke her damp coat. That had been a close call. She should really have slowed the mare much sooner.
The sides of the street were lined with gray, stone buildings. A wagon was parked outside the local hotel, and pedestrians lined the narrow causeway. The townsfolk had stopped to watch her arrival with wide eyes, and now returned to their business, their curiosity satiated. Everyone in Greyburn was familiar with Lady Charlotte and her mare. Several children pointed at her and chattered behind raised hands. Charlotte waved to them as she pulled Amber over to a nearby gate, and dismounted. She slipped the reins around the gate, securing Amber in place, and set off toward the markets that she knew would be operating in the center of town.
The sound of running made her pause and spin about. The man she’d almost bowled over, strode up to her, his face thunderous.
“What the hell do you think you’re doin?” He stopped in front of her, his hands on his hips and his eyebrows pressing down over sparking blue eyes.
Charlotte’s breath caught in her throat. She didn’t recognize the man, and she thought she knew everyone in town. Perhaps he was from somewhere else. Either way, his dimples and snapping blue eyes made her heart skip a beat.
“I really don’t think that kind of language is necessary, sir.” Charlotte lifted her nose and sniffed to show her disdain.
“My language is just about right, I’d say. You almost killed me. You were riding like a crazy woman!”
“Excuse me, do you know who I am?”
“I don’t care who you are, just watch where you’re goin’ ok?”