by Stella Clark
“Mrs. Hartwell,” he called.
It was good, he decided, when she smiled back. It was a charming smile. And she was most definitely short. His wiry six-foot-three frame towered over her by several inches, if not an entire foot. He wasn’t sure if it was the height or lack of familiarity that left him silent as he tried to think of something to say when he reached her.
Chapter Five
“Mr. Benson?” She piped up. Shifting her grasp on her bag, she prayed that it was him. The stagecoach was preparing to leave, meaning she would be on her own. And that meant she wouldn’t know where to go or what to do on her own. The thudding of her heart was so loud that it gave her a headache.
He blinked. “Ah yes. Yes, that would be me. I’m Jake Benson. Right. And you’re Virginia Hartwell.” She nodded as he glanced around them. The man appeared rather distracted and she wondered if there was a problem. If she was the problem. “Good. You’re here. If you don’t mind, we’ll be going straight to Preacher Thomas for the ceremony. Then we can return to the shop. Your bag. If you would allow me?”
It took her a moment, keeping track of everything he was saying. They had swept past the pleasantries, so she tried to adjust. “Hm? Oh. Oh yes, thank you.”
He accepted the load. “Good, good. This way, then.” He gestured down the street and then hesitated. She was about to ask if something was wrong when he cautiously offered her his arm. Virginia inhaled. It was a polite gesture and nothing else, she told herself.
She took his arm and allowed him to lead the way.
“The shop has been busy, so it took a while to step out,” he offered by way of an apology. “You didn’t have to wait long, did you?”
There was dust everywhere on her dress. But she offered a smile, wishing she’d thought to wash her face before he had arrived. “Of course not. You arrived just in time, Mr. Benson. Now, you said we’re going to see a preacher?”
Nodding, he rubbed his chin before leading them across the lane. He walked quickly. Virginia struggled to keep up, taking three steps for his every two. The man was quite tall, taller than Samuel had been by several inches. Licking her lips, she wiped the sweat off her brow with her free hand and took a deep breath of fresh air.
Her intended was nodding. “Right here. It’s not much, but it’ll do.”
There was a church up ahead. She was led through a side door, finally out of the sun. As he had hinted, the building was small. There was the chapel with several pews and a small room towards the back. A man on a mission, Mr. Benson directed them over and rapped his knuckles firmly on the door.
“Thomas? Preacher Thomas, it’s Jake Benson. Do you have a moment?”
She heard some shuffling over the pounding of her heart. There was so much happening that she didn’t know what to think. A strange new place, dust everywhere, and a tall man too distracted to talk to her. But there was the slight comfort of a church, even if it was half the size of the one back home in Philadelphia.
No, Virginia told herself. Pennsylvania was no longer home. That was in the past. She swallowed and managed to share a nervous smile with the portly man in spectacles as he opened the door to peek at them.
“Ah, Benson. Well, well. Good to see you. And you, miss.”
“Hello,” she offered politely. She hadn’t been called ‘miss’ in many years. If anything, it was flattering to hear she still looked young. “How do you do?”
“Quite well.” He opened the door wider. “Benson, what can I do for you two today?”
Virginia felt faint. He didn’t know? Was this how wild the West was, with no planning? The room was too warm. Everything felt so sudden with this stranger about to officiate a wedding for someone he had never met. Inhaling deeply, she forced herself to keep a smile on her face.
“Payson Thomas, this is Mrs. Virginia Hartwell from Philadelphia. We’ve held correspondence for some time, and she’s just arrived by stagecoach. Mrs. Hartwell, this is San Paulo’s preacher, Mr. Payson Thomas. Now, Thomas, I was hoping you would do the honors of marrying us.”
The man fixed his glasses as he tried to think. “Well, I … I mean, I suppose … if she doesn’t … Hm. What of Rudolph? You need a marriage certificate from the justice of the peace.”
“Ah!” Mr. Benson nodded, releasing Virginia and setting the bag down to pat down his pockets. Finally, in his vest, he found a folded-up piece of paper, which he handed over. “I handled that yesterday. Even showed Rudolph our correspondence for proof. He wanted to be here today, but he has a case over in Bernardino.”
Preacher Thomas nodded. After studying the page, he appeared satisfied. “Splendid. Yes, we’ll get this signed in a moment then. I’ll just grab my pen. Roger, my boy?” he called to a nearby boy. “Come see this wedding. Come now.”
Before Virginia knew it, she was getting married again. Mr. Benson stood across from her, impatiently fiddling with his hands as Preacher Thomas talked. She clutched her hands together in front of her, holding them tight. Thinking back to the stagecoach, she had thought she would feel much more trepidation in this moment. But now it felt like a mere transaction. One new husband after the old. One new wife after the old. They didn’t kiss at the end.
“And the certificate.” Preacher Thomas pulled it back out with a flourish, attempting to smooth out the wrinkles. The young boy, Roger, offered a pen, and Thomas cleared the podium so that it could be signed.
Mr. Benson went first, carefully writing his name. Virginia hesitated only a moment with the pen before carefully scripting a single letter, just like she had done in her first marriage. An X.
The preacher shook his head. “No, dear. You write your name there.”
Her face turned pink. “I know, sir. I’m afraid I was never … I’ve never learned my letters. That’s my signature.”
“Ah,” the man paused and then shrugged, setting the pen down.
The new husband, however, was confused. His brow furrowed. “You wrote letters to me, didn’t you?”
“Yes,” she nodded hurriedly. “That is, I dictated them. And had yours read to me. Truly, it’s been me all along. But I’m afraid that I did have help in maintaining our correspondence. While I can recognize my name when written, well, I don’t think that I could …”
He waved a hand in the air. “No matter. We have more important things to attend to. I have to stop by the stables and open the shop. Where’s your bag?” Mr. Benson found it, picked it up, and gestured towards the door. “Preacher Thomas, Roger, thank you for your time.”
“Will we see you Sunday?” the preacher called after them.
“Perhaps,” her new husband responded, shouting over her shoulder.
It was right in her ear, but she didn’t flinch. Yelling was nothing new to her. Virginia kept her hands clenched together, rubbing them anxiously as he guided her back to the street.
Chapter Six
“And here’s the shop.” He stepped aside to let her enter first. “I’ll put your bag in the back and let you get familiar here. When you’re ready, just meet me at the counter,” he offered and kept on walking past her.
A moment to herself. Virginia liked that. Fascinated by the items in his mercantile, she started to explore. It was a good-sized shop for a place like this. There were ribbons and cloth, oats and flour, newspapers and more. Even little peppermints. It made her smile, wandering about to get a good look.
The second floor was nice as well, a little cleaner and a little smaller. There was something charming about it, she decided, with its slanted roof and round windows. Virginia stood there to breathe it all in. After a few minutes in the silence, she was ready. Walking back down, she found Mr. Benson talking to a little girl whose mother nearby.
He was playing with the child, waving peppermints around. It was the first real smile she had seen on her new husband. Virginia paused to watch. Though she’d been too anxious earlier to think straight, she had just married a handsome man. He was some years older, much taller, with a wiry build that hadn
’t stopped him from handling heavy bags in the stables. His shirt and vest were tidy, though his boots were beginning to fall apart. His pants needed mending and his curly hair was getting long. She suddenly wondered what it would be like to run her hands through it.
Immediately she shook her head at the foolish thought. Of course not. It was a marriage of convenience. Her cheeks flushed at the silliness. Virginia had not expected love in her first union, and she wasn’t expecting love in this one either. He had mentioned his first wife, that he still loved her, that he was dedicated to her still. He had proposed a convenient union for them both and she was fine with that.
She had to be fine with that.
***
Jake looked up, catching her by the stairs. She looked lost in her thoughts, and he considered giving her another moment. It had been a busy afternoon, leaving her looking rather harried. But then Mrs. Hartwell—now the new Mrs. Benson—put on a polite smile and came over.
“Where shall I get started? The honey?”
He opened his mouth to say the honey was fine, but it turned out little Evangeline Werner had rearranged all the jars. So, Virginia was observant. That was going to be helpful. “Yes,” he nodded. “That would be perfect.”
The afternoon passed in a blur. At least for Jake, it did. Everyone needed something. He made conversation, introduced Virginia to customers, and tried to get her started on understanding the workflow. While she didn’t know her letters, Jake discovered, she knew her numbers and could do everything in her head before he was finished writing anything down.
He kept the shop open late, leaving them to walk home in the dark. “It’s not far,” he assured her, the guilt slowly but surely creeping in. After the day he’d had, every limb ached, and he knew she had to feel the same. And this was after her arrival in a stagecoach.
“You never went to school?” As he looked at her, he found himself asking the question he’d been wondering the entire day. There had been plenty of distractions, but now it was just them. She carried a basket of items never purchased and no longer good to sell as he carried her heavier bag. Jake glanced at her again and realized she was struggling to keep up. Right, the short legs. He slowed down.
Soon she caught her breath. “For a short while,” she spoke up. “I don’t remember much, however, and my parents moved us often. They struggled to find work, particularly my father. He had a temper and … and he had a hard time of it.
“Not every town we went had a school. Some of those that did were too far, or they were too busy with the younger children to help me as I grew older. I remembered the numbers. Those were easier for me to piece together. By the time I was twelve, I was working, and then I was married at sixteen. And now I’m here.” She fell quiet again. It was the most she had said all day.
He thought for a moment. The look on her face reminded her of little Evangeline when her mother had said they would not be purchasing honey. “Do you want to learn?”
As quickly as he could snap his fingers, he saw a spark in her eyes as she looked over at him. But she hesitated, dropping her gaze. “I’d hate to be a bother, Mr. Benson.”
Jake stopped in front of his house and looked at her. No, it was their house now, he reminded himself. The way she addressed him was so formal. “Please, we’re married. Mr. Benson is fine in public, but you may call me Jake. Or Jakob, if you prefer. This is home, by the way.”
They stepped inside and he paused to let her look around. “It’s lovely,” she offered politely. “Jakob,” she added after a heartbeat.
“It’s home,” he shrugged and lit a candle. For a minute, he had to think. Often when he came home this late, he just dropped off to sleep. What did other people do? “Suppose we should eat before we turn in. The bedroom is right over …”
Jake stopped. Right, bed. This was not something he had thought through. A perfect marriage like the one he’d had with Libby had meant them sharing one. But a marriage of convenience, he wondered, did it call for the same? He only had one bed. He couldn’t afford another. “I … I’ll sleep on the floor, I suppose. You can take to the bed.” He sighed as they reached the kitchen. There wasn’t much. “Here’s some bread and … here we are. Cheese. It’s not much, but it will do.”
“That sounds perfect,” Virginia murmured. “As for the floor,” she cleared her throat, “that’s unnecessary. One bed will do. I-I understand the parameters of our marriage, which we have discussed. But we both need our rest.”
Candlelight flickered. Their faces were light and dark at once. Jake handed over bread and cheese after breaking some off for himself. She accepted it. After they ate, they set down their things and went to the bedroom. They changed with their backs turned toward one another and slipped beneath the blankets.
Jake closed his eyes, trying to make sure they didn’t touch. Too long he’d had the space to himself. It was going to be a long night.
Chapter Seven
Virginia fell asleep more quickly than she had expected but struggled to stay that way all night. By the time morning came around, the young woman was wide awake. It was nervous energy, she told herself. Left to her own devices as her husband slept, she took a better look around.
It was a small home, but bigger with light shining everywhere. The home was cozy and simple. And very dusty. Virginia hummed softly as she cleaned. There was so much to do. And then her stomach grumbled. He had made mention of wanting to open early, but surely she had time to prepare something to eat, she decided.
So she pulled out the eggs they had brought home from the store and found a few other vegetables that were unused. He had mentioned a garden, so she went out the back door where she found tomatoes and sweet onions that looked beautiful and ripe. It had been a while since she’d had so many options to work with. Grinning, Virginia pulled some of the best-looking vegetables and took them in for a quick wash. Her stomach growled just thinking of the delightful food she could break her morning fast with. Hopefully Jake would feel the same way.
“What smells so good?” He came out yawning. His hair stood everywhere and Jake stared at her for a good minute. Most likely remembering who she was.
Straightening up, Virginia offered a short wave. “I hope you don’t mind, but I used yesterday’s eggs from the mercantile. Thought we could use a good meal to get us started. It’s a quiche. You know, like a pie. But mostly eggs.”
“It smells delicious,” he offered. Then there was a moment of silence before he glanced around. “Well, I’d best straighten up then.”
When he returned, he looked like a real shopkeeper with combed hair and a tucked-in shirt. She put away a smile as she nodded in his direction. After he had poured himself a cup of water, he glanced outside. “I’m going to have to head out soon. I’m late enough as it is.”
Virginia gulped. “Oh. Oh, I didn’t even think …” she glanced outside the window and then rushed back to the pan. “It’s done! I’m sorry, I should have considered that. Here we are.” Moving quickly, she set the pan down and scooped out a steaming piece of quiche. Passing it over to him, Virginia was about to ask if he wanted to pray, but he stabbed it with a fork. Maybe next time.
He ate extraordinarily quickly. Before Virginia finished hers, he had finished his second slice.
“Very good,” he remarked. “I’ve never had anything like it. We might have to bring eggs home more often.” Jake grinned before his eyes again turned toward the windows. “I’d best be getting to the shop.” He hesitated as she started up, nodding, only to look at the dirty table. “I can go to the shop and you can follow after. Do you remember the way?”
It had been dark. But it was close, so she felt certain she’d be able to find the mercantile again. Virginia swallowed with a nod. “Yes, yes I’ll be as quick as I can. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make a mess. I …” He waved a hand and she closed her mouth.
“Soon,” he suggested. Then he left.
Her cheeks burned as she cleaned up. What had she been thinking? Vir
ginia stood alone in the house as she stared at the meal. It had started out well enough, but her face still felt warm. With a sigh, she shook her head and started moving.
“Next time,” Virginia murmured to herself, “next time I’ll be ready. Dishes cleaned, too.”
But then she thought of their noonday meal. Had he mentioned wanting to return during the day for something like that? Most likely, from what she could tell of his work ethic so far, that appeared unlikely. It didn’t look like he ate often. For a minute she stood there as she tried to decide. Finally she gave in and prepared a quick meal for them later.
“This should do,” she nodded to herself. Now that Virginia was ready, she stepped outside into the bright sunlight and squinted.
Everything looked fresh in the daytime. San Paulo looked like a lovely little place, she decided. Already nicer than Philadelphia. Virginia simply hoped she wasn’t thinking prematurely. While the town was definitely dusty, there was a charm to it that one didn’t find in the city. Something more natural, perhaps. And a lot more blue sky, without any factories nearby.
No wonder he had settled down in a place like this one. Closing the door carefully behind her, Virginia gazed around with wide eyes, trying to take it all in. For the first time in a while, she felt real hope rise within her chest.
But that was silly, she tried to tell herself. She had only just arrived. A blue sky didn’t mean good fortune or promises of the future. Trying to think clearly, Virginia shook her head and turned towards the street. She had things to do. A shop to learn about, and a husband to support. Right, her husband. She swallowed, finally realizing how high the sun sat in the sky. She was late. Hopefully he thought a noonday meal was worth the wait. But she had to find the shop in order to learn his reaction.