by Janette Oke
As she savored the tasty food, Kathleen almost—almost but not quite—forgot the big man who sat beside her. Under other circumstances she would have been very aware of his presence. In fact, she marveled that the food took so much of her attention. In her need for nourishment, she even found herself thinking, If this is America, I like it.
But as her appetite was appeased, she found her thoughts returning to other things. Things like wedding vows. Strangers. Separation from Erma. Family back home. Suddenly Kathleen lost her appreciation for the food. Her stomach tied in knots. She pushed her plate back slightly as though she couldn’t stand the thought of one more bite.
She cast a glance around the table. Lucas was still talking engagingly with Erma, who listened in rapt attention.
“—my living quarters are right here in the hotel,” Kathleen heard him say, and then he quickly added, “I do hope that you don’t find the arrangement disagreeable.”
“Oh no,” dimpled Erma. “It’s most—most—pleasant.” And her eyes scanned the room again as her cheeks flushed.
Kathleen found her eyes following Erma’s. Wouldn’t it be a wonder to live in a place like this, she found herself thinking.
Kathleen shifted her eyes to Wallis, who ate the sandwiches as though he’d been near starving. One patched elbow rested on the white tablecloth so the hand wouldn’t have so far to go to reach the mouth. Kathleen noticed that he had pressed two of the dainty sandwiches together so they would make a more worthwhile mouthful.
Risa sat stiffly beside him. Even her tightly secured bun at the nape of her neck looked offended by the man beside her.
Donnigan sat too close to her for her to see his face. But she surprised herself by realizing that already she had it memorized. She could visualize the intense blue eyes, his most outstanding feature in her way of thinking, the straight nose, the tanned cheeks—one bearing a small scar that made her wonder what had happened—the firm chin with the slight cleft, the blond hair that wished to curl, especially at the nape of his neck.
But he was so big. So big and broad. Kathleen had been used to smaller men. Men more like Lucas in stature. For one brief minute she wished that she could change places with Erma. Erma was the one who had wanted the tall, blond rancher. Kathleen felt dwarfed beside him. Like a—like a small child looking up to her father. She didn’t like the feeling. Didn’t like it at all.
But Lucas was folding the square of linen that he had placed on his lap. Kathleen saw Erma reach for hers and fold it slowly as well. Kathleen followed suit.
“I’m sure we all have our own plans for the rest of the day,” Lucas was saying.
“I have had your luggage taken to my—our rooms,” Lucas said to Erma. “I’m sure you would like a bath and rest to refresh yourself.”
Erma looked at him appreciatively—and then back to Kathleen. For one brief minute Kathleen saw panic in the gray eyes.
“The—the wedding—?” Erma began.
“Will be at seven,” said Lucas evenly.
“I—I was wondering—since I know no one and—and Kathleen is my—my friend, could—could she attend me, sir?”
Kathleen’s breath caught in her throat. She hadn’t thought of attendants.
For one moment Lucas frowned slightly. He had already made all the arrangements. Then he looked back at Erma and nodded, if somewhat reluctantly. “Of course,” he said. “That—that will be—fine.”
Lucas turned to Kathleen; then his eyes lifted to Donnigan’s. “At the church—at ten to seven,” he said, and both Kathleen and Donnigan knew that Lucas meant for Donnigan to be sure to deliver her there promptly.
“I told the parson we’d be on over as soon as we et,” Wallis was saying to Risa.
The woman raised no objection, just nodded her head and followed Wallis as he headed for the door, his grin still firmly in place.
“Are you tired—or would you like to walk?” Donnigan asked Kathleen solicitously, nervously fingering his broad-brimmed hat.
He really felt the need to get to know something more about this young girl, and the teatime had not really given them much opportunity to speak to each other.
Kathleen was weary, but she, too, felt the need to discuss their future plans.
“I’ll walk,” she replied evenly, wondering to herself if Donnigan had forgotten her limp. Would he be embarrassed to be seen on the streets with a lame partner?
They turned from the coolness of the day to the heat of the afternoon sun. Kathleen accepted Donnigan’s offered arm. It seemed very strange to be on the arm of a man. She was used to scurrying through the streets of London on her own. Only the “ladies” were escorted.
They walked for a time in silence and then Donnigan spoke. “I have arranged for us to spend the night at the hotel,” he informed her.
Kathleen lifted her eyes. She was waiting for him to say when they were to be at the church to stand before the parson.
“I thought you might be too tired to travel on out to the farm tonight—having traveled for so many days already,” he went on to explain.
Kathleen nodded silently.
Her thoughts went on, tumbling over one another. He said, “the farm.” I’ll be back on a farm. I wonder if one can see the sea? Kathleen felt sure that they must be close to the sea. They had traveled so far. Surely the land couldn’t stretch much farther. She lifted a hand to wipe her hot brow with the white hanky that had been purchased in Boston.
Donnigan stopped short.
“It’s too warm for you, isn’t it? I’m sorry. You really need to get out of the sun. You should rest.”
Kathleen had never heard such concern in anyone’s voice before. Certainly not concern over her well-being.
“I’m—I’m fine,” she responded.
But he already was turning their steps toward the hotel.
“Your things have been taken to the room,” he told her as they entered the cool lobby. He did not add that he had been totally surprised at the scarcity of luggage. The stage driver had needed to assure Donnigan over and over that the one little trunk was “all the luggage that the little lady had.”
“I have the key—right here. I’ll take you up.”
With one hand under her elbow, he ushered her across the reception area and up the carpeted stairs. Kathleen felt woozy. Was it the heat—the events of the day—the man—or—or everything combined? So much was happening. So quickly.
They turned to the right at the top of the stairs and continued down a short hall. He presented the key and turned the lock in the door, opening it wide so she could enter. It was a pleasant room, with heavy blue and gold draperies, blue and gold carpet, and a soft bed that beckoned Kathleen.
“I’ll send someone right up with hot water. You can bathe and rest,” he assured her, then continued. “I’m sorry you won’t have long. We need to be at the church right at ten to seven. If we don’t, Lucas will have our hides.”
He turned to leave, reaching for the doorknob to pull the door shut behind him.
“Wait!”
Kathleen’s little cry stopped him.
“Our wedding?” asked Kathleen with more boldness than she thought she possessed.
“Tomorrow,” he answered briefly. “Not ’til tomorrow.”
He shut the door and was gone and Kathleen stared after him with wide, flashing eyes. Then she tugged a glove from her fingers and flung it on the bed beside her.
“Sure now—an’ it’s either you or me for the hall tonight, Mr. Donnigan Harrison, sir,” she said angrily.
Chapter Ten
Confused Beginnings
As promised, there was a knock on Kathleen’s door shortly before seven. She was ready and feeling somewhat refreshed, though she did wish she could have rested much longer.
But it was exciting to be off to Erma’s wedding—even with the disappointment that Mr. Donnigan Harrison had chosen to stall concerning theirs. What if he continued to put it off? What if he didn’t plan to marry at all? Kat
hleen felt her stomach churn.
He offered his arm, but because of the anger and confusion that still twisted her thoughts, she chose to refuse it. With head held high she limped along beside him, ignoring him as much as it was possible to do.
“Did you rest well?” he asked kindly, and she answered with a slight nod of her head and firmly pursed lips. If he thought it odd, he did not make comment.
He led her down the steps and through the lobby, out into the warmth of the evening and toward the end of the town’s main street. Kathleen made no attempt at conversation, and he seemed to be sensitive to her mood.
She spotted the little church set back from the road before he lifted his hand to guide her down the wooden walk.
“Here we are—and on time. Lucas won’t need to pace,” said Donnigan with a hint of good-natured teasing in his voice.
They entered the church to find Lucas there ahead of them. He was resplendent in a black formal suit with a small rosebud tucked in his button hole.
The man whom Kathleen identified as the town parson stood at the front of the room, book already spread open before him. It appears that the preacher doesn’t wish to keep Lucas Stein waiting either, thought Kathleen; and in spite of herself, she felt a smile curving her lips.
Erma arrived promptly at seven. She came by carriage, even though the hotel was only a few blocks down the street. Kathleen could only stare. Erma was dressed in white with a lacy veil covering her carefully coiffed blond hair. The dress was a bit tight and Erma appeared to be holding her breath, but Kathleen wondered how the man had managed to be that close in his estimate of size for his new bride. The white-gowned bride carried a bouquet of red roses and white carnations on her arm. Kathleen had never seen anything quite so splendid.
“Your flowers,” Lucas was saying, and Kathleen looked from Erma to find Lucas offering her a small version of Erma’s bouquet. She accepted it numbly.
A total stranger stepped forward and offered his arm to lead her toward the man at the front. For one brief minute she panicked, wondering if she was being led up to marry this balding, stern-looking gentleman, and then she realized she was simply being escorted up to be a witness to Erma’s wedding. She took the offered arm and walked forward, her thoughts quickly scrambling to wonder what had become of Donnigan.
But the parson was already speaking, and Kathleen forced her attention back to his words.
“Dearly beloved—” His voice was low and carefully modulated. Kathleen wondered if Lucas had brought him in just for the event. He sounded so proper—so perfect. But she quickly reminded herself that the man belonged to the whole town. She knew Wallis and Risa had made use of his services earlier that afternoon.
With that thought, Kathleen felt her face flush again. So why hadn’t Donnigan made arrangements? Or had he—and canceled them when he saw her lameness? Maybe she was a reject—just as her stepmother had warned.
Kathleen lost total concentration. Before she knew it the man with the book was saying, “May the God of heaven bless your union with His love, joy, and peace. Amen,” and she knew that the short ceremony was over.
Donnigan was still struggling. He didn’t feel any concern about the hotel dinner hour. That he had already arranged for, and it always seemed rather easy to chat over food if one felt that talk was necessary. And he knew that Kathleen was dreadfully tired and would wish to retire early—so that would take care of the evening. But what then? They had to talk seriously—sometime. They were due at the church at ten the next morning. But that hour seemed to be approaching awfully fast. He had a lot of thinking and sorting to do in a short time. He had thought himself prepared—and he would have been—had a girl like Erma stepped forward when the stage pulled into town. But a child? What was Jenks thinking of? Surely this—this—bit of a girl should still be at home in her family’s care. So what was she doing here—ready to promise herself in marriage? Ready to take on the responsibilities of a grown woman? It didn’t make a lick of sense to Donnigan.
He mulled over the problem all the time he waited for Lucas’s ceremony to end, but he was no nearer a solution when the last Amen was spoken.
As the couple turned from the altar, Donnigan rose to his feet. He was the only one in the small church except for the parson and the wedding party. He wasn’t sure if he should move forward with his congratulations or wait for the new bride and groom to come down the aisle. He waited.
The parson came first, with Lucas and Erma close behind him. With a bit of hesitation, Donnigan stepped forward and extended his hand.
“Congratulations,” he said heartily to Lucas. The man, who was usually so composed, couldn’t hide the merry twitching of his mustache. He had pulled the whole thing off—he was a married man, his twinkling eyes seemed to say.
Donnigan let his eyes shift back to his own bride of the morrow. She came slowly down the aisle on the arm of Grant Crayford, the town’s officious banker. Donnigan had never been particularly fond of the man but had accepted him as a necessary part of the town. Now as the man placed his overly soft hand on the small hand that rested on his arm and leaned down to say something quietly to the young girl, Donnigan liked him even less. It was one thing for him to escort Kathleen, but quite another for him to be so solicitous—so possessive. Donnigan’s starched collar suddenly felt too tight. He was a bit too quick in stepping forward and taking Kathleen’s other elbow, gently easing her away from the dark-suited man.
“Our dinner is waiting,” he said in explanation, and she allowed herself to be hurried away.
As she left the church, Kathleen saw Lucas assisting Erma back into the carriage for the short ride back to the hotel. Kathleen almost felt envy—and then Erma lifted her eyes and met Kathleen’s for just one moment.
The gentle smile was still firmly in place, but the eyes shadowed briefly. She’s frightened, thought Kathleen in that one quick exchange. She’s nervous and frightened.
Kathleen wished to pull her hand free and go to the girl, but she managed a wobbly smile in return, hoping that it conveyed to Erma some measure of warmth and assurance, and then the carriage door was closed and Erma was gone.
Kathleen felt so weary she could scarcely keep herself alert to enjoy the tasty meal that was set before them. Donnigan kept talking and she hoped that she was giving sensible responses.
She was still angry and concerned about the hotel arrangements. She wasn’t quite sure how she would handle it when the time came, but she had no intention whatever of sharing a room with a man who wasn’t her wedded spouse.
I could sleep right here on this chair, she assured herself, feeling tired enough to do just that. Or I could curl up on one of those settees in the lobby.
But Donnigan was speaking again. “I know you are very tired,” he was saying, “so rather than talk wedding plans tonight, we’ll wait until morning.”
Kathleen cast him a distant glance.
“I don’t have special clothes,” Kathleen admitted, her eyes held to her plate.
Donnigan shifted uneasily.
“Nor do I,” he admitted. “Only Lucas would think of all those things.”
“Do you mind?” asked Kathleen simply.
“No.” His answer was curt. Almost sharp. Then his voice softened. “Do you?”
Kathleen shrugged her slim shoulders. Erma had looked awfully nice. But when it came to the truth, she had never even considered a wedding gown. “No,” she said after a moment’s hesitation.
“What you are wearing now looks real nice,” Donnigan went on. It was the closest any man had ever come to complimenting her. Kathleen felt her cheeks warm.
The meal ended in silence. When they were finished, Donnigan rose to his feet and offered his arm to Kathleen.
“We’d better go up before you fall asleep at the table,” he teased gently.
Kathleen longed for the soft bed in the room upstairs. Yet near panic gripped her. Now she would need to stand her ground. Now she—but how—and what would she say?
Donnigan led her up the steps and down the hall and again opened the door with the key. He held it for her to enter, but Kathleen stood rooted to the spot.
“This arrangement isn’t much to my liking, sir,” she said, her head lifting and her chin thrusting forward.
Donnigan looked puzzled. “Is something wrong with the room?” he asked innocently.
Kathleen’s brogue was thick as she tipped her head and answered, “Sure, and the room is fine. It’s the company that concerns me.”
“The company?” It was clear that Donnigan was confused.
“On this journey I’ve shared a tiny closet-sized room with more women than I could count,” went on Kathleen, “an’ it didn’t cause me one troubled moment—but sharing so large a room—with a man—now that I’ve no mind to do.”
“A man?” Donnigan found himself peering around the door and into the room. His face still registered puzzlement.
“If you count yourself a man, sir,” said Kathleen, her voice edged with anger.
“Me?” he asked incredulously.
Then Donnigan began to chuckle softly. “You thought—I mean, you thought that—that … ?” He couldn’t finish the question.
“We won’t be married until tomorrow,” he reminded her.
Kathleen just stood and stared, her anger turning to confusion.
“My room is down the hall,” explained Donnigan quickly, pointing his long arm with outstretched finger.
With the words he reached out and pressed the room key into Kathleen’s hand. “Your key,” he said and pulled another key from his pocket. Then he reached up and ran a hand through his blond hair. Kathleen could see the red gradually stain his tanned cheeks. Only the white scar stayed untouched. He licked his lips nervously and fingered the hat in his hand.
“I’m sorry,” he muttered. “I didn’t mean to cause you concern. I—I guess I didn’t explain. I just didn’t think. I’m—I’m sorry.”