Heartland Wedding

by Renee Ryan

  Pete escorted Rebecca down the church steps, his large hand a whisper touch on her elbow. There was nothing out of the ordinary about the way he helped her down the stairs. But with him walking this closely beside her, and with his clean, woodsy scent wafting between them, the events of the past hour raced through her thoughts with excruciating detail.

  One particular moment kept playing over and over again in her mind. It had happened when Pete was talking to the pastor at the back of the church after the ceremony was over. Her eyes had met his, and in that instant Rebecca had felt as though she truly belonged to Pete—as a wife belonged to her husband.

  The sensation hadn’t lasted very long, but it had been enough to thread hope through her heart. Perhaps marrying Pete was a good thing.

  Then again…

  A rush of nerves made her miss the last step and she lost her footing.

  Pete’s fingers tightened on her arm until she regained her balance. But still he said nothing to her.

  What was he thinking?

  She glanced into his face. His expression was a study in calm, as though they were taking a routine stroll down the street. A thousand questions flitted across her mind. She voiced none of them and continued walking silently beside him.

  The night air stewed with the thick, oppressive heat of summer. Rebecca wanted to release a sigh—a big, loud, heartfelt sigh.

  She refrained.

  Pete directed her across the empty street, steering her around the worst of the ruts and wheel tracks that were illuminated by the full moon floating in the cloudless sky.

  With her senses heightened, Rebecca noticed every sound around her. Crickets clicked. Frogs croaked. A horse whinnied from somewhere nearby. And was that a coyote howl in the distance? A snake’s rattle off to her left?

  Night on the prairie could be a scary proposition for anyone, especially a woman. Potential dangers lurked in every shadow. Aside from wild animals, there’d been Indian unrest in the territory recently. Now, with eight-year-old Mikey and his twin sister Missy still missing, the dangers seemed more real to Rebecca. Add Edward’s fight over her with the Tully brothers, and she wasn’t sure she’d ever be able to walk the streets of High Plains alone without at least a small amount of fear nagging at her.

  Yet walking next to Pete—her big, silent, handsome husband—she knew she was safe. Truly safe.

  Perhaps for the first time in her life.

  She wanted to raise her hands and shout for joy. But Pete would probably think she’d gone mad. So she offered up a silent prayer of thanksgiving, instead. Thank You, Lord. I trust marrying Pete was the right thing to do. I trust You will bring good out of this union.

  Eventually.

  Well, then. That last thought wasn’t one of a faithful Christian. But, glory. Glory. The silence between them was growing more awkward with each step.

  Pete let go of her elbow, then linked his fingers through hers. The familiarity of holding hands with her new husband brought up a disturbing question.

  Would their marriage be real? Or one in name only?

  The fact that she didn’t know revealed how precarious the situation was between them. She was married to a stranger. Completely, irrevocably, married to him.

  Pete came to a halt in front of the boardinghouse. Releasing her hand, he shifted until he stared directly into her eyes.

  Rebecca swallowed.

  “I figure you’ll want to organize your belongings before you move into my house.” He spoke with meticulous politeness. Did he really have to be that kind and considerate?

  “Yes, I suppose I would,” she said. “But I should go to the livery and make sure Edward is comfortable first. He didn’t look well when he left the church ahead of us.”

  “I’ll check on him before I turn in.”

  She started to argue the point, then thought better of it. She’d fussed over Edward enough. If she pushed too much, he would shut her out just like their parents had.

  “All right. I’ll let you check on him for me while I pack up my belongings.” Not that the process would take her much time. If pressed, she could pack every item she owned in less than an hour.

  Pete must have known what little property she possessed. Of course he knew. But his words had alluded to something else entirely. I’ll check on him before I turn in, he’d said. Not we, but I. No matter how kind his tone sounded, he was excusing her for the rest of the night. Their wedding night.

  Her stomach felt as if a heavy lump of day-old bread had settled at the bottom. “Are you suggesting I stay at the boardinghouse this evening?” She needed to be sure.

  “That’s exactly what I’m suggesting.” He was so detached, but then he surprised her by placing both hands on her shoulders and smiling kindly. Softly. “It’s for the best.”

  Mesmerized by his deep voice, Rebecca found herself unable to respond.

  “You can move into my house tomorrow,” he continued, his palms resting lightly on her shoulders. “Or the day after that. I’ll leave the timing up to you.”

  His words were so civilized, so careful. An odd rush of disappointment made her breathing feel heavy against her ribs.

  “Mrs. Jennings gave me most of tomorrow off,” she said in an unsteady voice. “I’ll serve breakfast as usual, then I’ll pack.”

  Eyes still locked with hers, Pete let his hands drop. “If that’s what you want.”

  “It is.” She shrugged, desperately hoping she pulled off the casual gesture. “I’ll see you later, then.”

  “Rebecca. Wait.” He caught her hand as she tried to turn away. “We’ll talk tomorrow night. Really talk. We have much to discuss. It’ll go better after we’ve both had time to gather our thoughts.”

  His voice sounded a little off, almost uncertain. She forced herself to look into his eyes and nearly gasped at what she saw. There was something different in him. Something remarkably vulnerable.

  He needs you, Rebecca, more than he can admit.

  Yes. She saw the truth in his gaze. This strong, handsome man was lonely. He needed someone to love him. And she now had that privilege as his wife.

  It took everything in her not to fling herself into his arms.

  The thought should have scared her. After all, what did she really know about him? But there was no fear. No shame, either. During the ceremony Reverend Preston had said that God’s purpose for husband and wife, inside the holy sanctity of marriage, carried no disgrace.

  Although this was no ordinary marriage, that did not mean it couldn’t be special. Unfortunately, Rebecca had no idea how to voice her hopes for their future. But she knew she had to try.

  “Pete?” she began, and then clamped her lips shut. How did she broach the subject of intimacy between them with so much else left unsaid?

  “I…that is…”

  If only she could find it in herself to step toward him, just one, small step, then maybe—maybe—the next one would be a little easier.

  But there’d been no talk of their life together, of children, of anything save the ceremony.

  “Just so we understand each other.” She swallowed back a wave of trepidation. “I’d like to make our marriage…that is, I want…I want…”

  She couldn’t make herself say the words. She couldn’t.

  Smiling kindly, Pete lifted her hand to his lips and pressed a tender kiss to her palm. “Tell me what you want, Rebecca. I’m listening.”

  His lightly spoken words sent a shiver through her and she knew, she knew, she could have a real marriage with this man.

  “I want…” She lost her nerve. There were just too many obstacles standing between them. “I want to keep my job at the boardinghouse.”

  She was such a coward.

  “I’d expected as much,” he said, a soft, understanding look flashing in his handsome face.

  He stepped closer, pulling her against him in a relaxed hug. It was their first intimate contact as husband and wife.

  Rebecca’s heart pounded so hard she thoug
ht it might stop on her. Before she blurted out too much, before she clung to him and begged him to take her home with him tonight, she stepped back.

  “Good night, Pete. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  She started to turn away, but in a burst of madness, she lifted on her toes and pressed her lips to his.

  She felt his jerk, and then his arms lifted by her sides.

  Shocked at her own impulsiveness, and at his seemingly pleased reaction, she twisted on her heel and rushed up the boardinghouse stairs as fast as her legs could carry her.

  Holding back a sob, she yanked the door closed behind her, but not before she heard Pete whisper after her. “Good night, sweet Rebecca.”

  All things considered, it wasn’t the worst start for their future. But it certainly wasn’t the best, either.

  Early the following morning, Emmeline Logan charged into the boardinghouse kitchen. Her sister, Bess, followed closely behind.

  “Is it true?” Emmeline demanded. “Did you marry Pete last night?”

  Rebecca’s fingers tightened on the tray of biscuits she’d just retrieved from the oven. She had known the news of her nuptials would spread through town faster than yeast could leaven a lump of dough, but she hadn’t expected word to reach the ranch so quickly.

  She’d only been married twelve hours. How could the gossip have stretched all the way to the Circle-L in that amount of time?

  “Well?” Emmeline asked, a little less patiently than before. Which hadn’t been patient at all. “Did you marry him or not?”

  Gathering her thoughts quickly, Rebecca set down the tray and then wiped her hands on her apron. “I did.” She turned to face her friend. “I married Pete last night.”

  “But, Rebecca, you’re here this morning.” Emmeline’s eyebrows smashed together. “I don’t understand.”

  Rebecca slipped her thumb across the ring on her left hand. She was still amazed the gold band was a perfect fit. “I slept in my own bed last night.”

  “Oh. I’m…” Emmeline’s face filled with feminine understanding. “Sorry.”

  “Me, too.” With nothing more to say, Rebecca turned back to her biscuits.

  “Not so fast.” Emmeline jammed her hands on her hips and began an annoying toe-tapping routine. “What made you change your mind? I thought you were dead set against marrying him.”

  Rebecca lifted a shoulder, determined to keep some things secret. But her thoughts went straight to Edward and his fight with the Tullys. Her brother had been defending her honor. As a result, he now had an injury that would keep him in bed for days. “I had my reasons,” she said with a sigh.

  “I’m sure you did.” Emmeline’s lips twisted. “Was one of those reasons the Tully brothers?”

  News of Edward’s fight had reached the Circle-L, as well? What else had been discussed at the Logans’ ranch? Rebecca closed her eyes a moment and waited until she was certain she could speak without her voice hitching.

  “They beat Edward pretty badly,” she said at last, blinking rapidly but saying nothing more. Despite Emmeline’s kindness, Rebecca resolved to avoid discussing the situation any further. For Edward’s sake.

  “Well, that certainly makes more sense. Though you should know, Will ordered the Tullys to leave town. They won’t be bothering Edward—or you, or anyone else—again. But, Rebecca—” Emmeline touched her hand “—it doesn’t have to be a bad thing, you marrying Pete, I mean.”

  “No, I don’t suppose it does.” But she’d spent hours staring at her ceiling last night, feeling more alone than ever, wondering if she’d done the right thing by marrying Pete.

  Would she find herself lonely in his house, as lonely as she’d been in her childhood home?

  Oh, please, Lord, not that.

  After a moment of silence between them, Emmeline sighed. “Well, anyway, I brought someone to see you.” She shifted until she was able to wrap her arm tightly through her sister’s.

  The girl had been so silent that Rebecca had nearly forgotten she was in the kitchen with them.

  Trying to make up for the unintentional slight, she smiled broadly. “Hello, Bess.”

  Bess nodded a greeting but didn’t make any attempt to speak.

  Rebecca’s heart twisted for the poor girl.

  According to Emmeline, Doc Dempsey had diagnosed Bess’s condition as female hysteria. Rebecca had no idea what that meant, but it didn’t sound good. Nor did it sound accurate. Bess was not hysterical, not if the English word meant what she thought. Quite the opposite. The girl was actually serene, oddly so.

  And astonishingly pretty. Small like Emmeline, Bess had the same arresting blue eyes. But where Emmeline was dark-haired, Bess was blond. Yet as pretty as she was, as sweet as she seemed to be, the fifteen-year-old hadn’t spoken a word in a month and only barely interacted with those around her. She didn’t laugh. She didn’t smile. She didn’t even cry. Something had obviously traumatized the girl.

  She needed a distraction. Rebecca hoped she could provide one.

  With quick movements, she placed steaming biscuits into two baskets. “Let me deliver these to the dining room and then I’ll show Bess around.”

  As she hurried out of the kitchen, Rebecca prayed for wisdom. Helping Bess find her voice was far beyond her abilities. But nothing was impossible with Christ.

  Returning to the kitchen, she stopped next to Bess. The girl had lowered herself in a chair against the wall. “All right, then.” Rebecca looked down and spread a genuine smile across her lips. “Are you ready to get started?”

  The girl nodded, but just as quickly her eyes turned cautious.

  Emmeline rushed to her side. “Bess.” She brushed her fingers across her sister’s cheek. “You don’t have to stay if you don’t want to.”

  Bess let Emmeline stroke her cheeks for only a moment before she ducked out of reach.

  Undaunted, Emmeline proceeded to pet the girl’s long blond hair with slow, gentle movements.

  Bess shifted away.

  Setting a determined look on her face, Emmeline lifted her hand again. Bess twisted away from her—again.

  Even as the girl silently fought off her sister’s attentions, her face held a slightly distant expression. Rebecca had never seen anyone look so normal on the outside yet still incapable of speech. Something had wounded her terribly.

  Did her trauma have to do with the missing twins?

  They would never know if Bess stayed in her current state.

  Eyeing the guarded expression in the girl’s eyes, Rebecca wondered if this was how she herself had looked last night when Pete had escorted her home from the church. It was no wonder he’d sent her inside for the evening.

  He’d been worried about spooking her.

  She understood the sentiment.

  “Bess, I would love for you to help me around the kitchen this morning. Would you like that?”

  Bess nodded slightly.

  “So you’ll stay?”

  Another, firmer nod.

  “All right, then.” Rebecca smiled at the girl. “It’s settled.”

  “I don’t know.” Emmeline looked from Rebecca to Bess and back to Rebecca again. With each pass, worry spread across her face. “I’m not sure I’m comfortable leaving her, after all.”

  “Don’t fret, Emmeline. Bess will be safe with me.” Rebecca ever so gently ushered her friend toward the back door, nearly dragging her the last few steps.

  At that point, Emmeline dug in her heels. “I don’t think I should leave her. She’s not ready.”

  “Quit smothering the poor girl,” Rebecca whispered.

  By her shocked gasp, it was clear Emmeline took immediate offense. “I am not smothering her.”

  Rebecca set her hands on her waist and stared at her friend.

  After a moment, Emmeline’s shoulders slumped forward. “Oh, all right. Perhaps I am smothering her. A little.”

  “A little?”

  Emmeline sighed. “I can’t help it.” She slid a brief glance to
ward Bess. “I’m so worried about her.”

  “I am, too. We all are.”

  Emmeline sighed again, then slowly walked over to her sister. “I’ll be back to fetch you in a few hours. Will that be all right with you?”

  Bess shrugged.

  Grimacing, Emmeline dropped a kiss on the girl’s head and then moved back to the door. Hand on the knob, she cleared her expression. “I’ll be at Zeb Garrison’s place, if you need me.”

  “You’re going to the mill this morning?” Rebecca couldn’t keep the shock out of her voice. What possible business did Emmeline have at the town’s sawmill?

  “No. No. I’m going to his house. To help Cassandra organize her reading materials for the upcoming school year.”

  “Oh. Of course.” That made sense. Cassandra was the town’s schoolteacher and obviously in the midst of preparing for her new students.

  Rebecca had only met Cassandra a few times, but she considered Zeb Garrison’s sister a friend. Of course, Emmeline was better friends with the young woman. Which, at the moment, was a good thing. Rebecca prayed Cassandra could calm Emmeline’s anxiety over her sister better than she had.

  “I’ll be back in two hours. Two.” Emmeline held up the appropriate amount of fingers and then proceeded to stare Rebecca down, as though daring her to argue.

  Rebecca simply smiled. “We’ll be here.”

  Finally, Emmeline left the boardinghouse.

  Alone with Bess at last, Rebecca straightened her apron, smoothed her hair, then mentally prepared to help the girl as best she could. But when her eyes connected with Bess’s, she feared there was nothing she could do to nudge her out of her silent world. She was completely unprepared and entirely out of her league.

  Good thing God was in charge.

  A very good thing. And something Rebecca should remember in terms of her own life.

  Chapter Seven

  Pete trekked across the small expanse of dirt and rocks between his smithy and the livery. He ignored the late-afternoon heat, the burning rays of the sun, and focused solely on the consequences of Matilda Johnson’s gossip. At this point, it didn’t matter where the woman had received her information, or that she’d spread her gossip before having all the facts. His life was on a new course.