“And he ate it?”
“He ate it like he hadn’t had a meal in a week. I thought I was gonna have to cook extra since he devoured so much. I wanted you to have plenty.”
“Don’t bother with a meal for me, Beulah.”
“And why not?” She put her hands on her hips and glared at him.
He decided he’d better not let her know what he planned to do after the wedding, so he changed the subject. “How about the bride? Has she arrived?”
“Not yet.” The Indian woman turned and looked him up and down. “Which means, you got plenty of time to get yourself ready.”
He frowned. “I am ready.”
She frowned back. “No, you ain’t. You smell like them cows you been working with all day. It wouldn’t hurt for you to take a bath, but if you refuse to do that, at least go wash up some and put on a clean shirt and get some pants that don’t have mud on them.”
“Beulah, you know this isn’t a fancy wedding. We’ll get married and maybe some of the hands will come around to give me their good wishes. Since Salty will be here to see me make this awful mistake, he might hang around a little while, then everybody will go on about their business. Nobody else except you and the preacher are invited.”
“I know, but it don’t make no difference. You can’t expect this young woman to come all the way from Savannah, walk in this strange house and marry you and you all dirty and smelly. Now do like I say, go on out to the bunkhouse and take a bath. Shave, too. You’ve got the shadow of a beard and it don’t look so good. I’ll see that your bride gets herself cleaned up from the trip when she gets here. She’ll be ready by the time you are.”
“But…”
“Your uncle told me to make sure the lady is pleased with the wedding and I know one thing for shore; there ain’t no woman in the world which would be pleased with the groom showing up dirty and smelly. Now, go get yourself some decent clothes then get out of here and get yourself cleaned up—and don’t give me no more argument about it.”
Aaron shook his head and muttered, “Damn, Uncle Walter. He isn’t in town and he’s still ruling my life. I can’t help wishing he’d …”
“Don’t say it. You’ll have bad luck if you wish a man dead.”
“How did you know I was going to wish him dead?”
“I just knowed.”
“Well, if he did drop dead today, I don’t think my luck could get any worse.” Aaron stomped down the hall and up the stairs to his room. He grabbed a clean shirt and pair of pants form his wardrobe, cursing all the time.
As he went out the back door, he said, “I hope this makes you happy.”
Beulah didn’t answer him.
Still fuming and muttering curses, Aaron crossed the yard and headed toward the bunkhouse.
Felix Browning, the bunkhouse cook came out the cook house door carrying a bucket. “You say somethin’, Boss.”
“Nothing important, Felix. Where are you headed?”
“Thought I’d see if there’s any of the ’taters left in the field for the men’s supper stew. I left a few hills in the ground when we dug them for the root cellar.”
“If you don’t find any, go to the root cellar and get what you need. You know Beulah will never use all of them.”
“Thanks boss. It gets hard to cook good food when it gets so cold the garden quits growing.”
Aaron nodded. “Got any hot water on the stove in the kitchen side of the bunkhouse?”
“Shore. You need some?”
“Beulah says I have to wash up before I get married.”
“She’s right to make you do it. Lord knows you get dirty when you work out on the range all day and no woman wants a dirty groom.”
“That’s what she said.”
“Well, we all know Beulah’s usually right.” Felix shook his head. “I still can’t believe you’re taking a bride, Boss.”
“Neither can I, but it looks like something I can’t get out of.”
“You shore?”
“Yeah, I am.” A sarcastic grin spread across his face. “Of course, I don’t intend for this marriage to change anything in my life. All I need is that piece of paper saying we’re hitched. As soon as the ranch…” His voice trailed off. “Well, you know what I mean.”
“I suppose I do. Use all the hot water you need. I can always heat more. ” Felix laughed and headed across the yard to the vegetable garden.
Aaron didn’t answer, but went through the empty bunkhouse to the door separating the cooking area from the sleeping side. He found a pan and filled it with hot water, then stuck his hand in it.
Jerking it back, he muttered, “I should have known it was hot.”
He added some cold water, then proceeded to wash his face and upper torso. That should be good enough and whether Beulah approves or not, I have no intention of shaving. He threw the rag in the pan and picked up his clean shirt and slipped it on. Then removed his dirty pants and stepped into the clean ones. This is a lot of nonsense anyway. I have no intention of being anywhere near my bride tonight, and nobody at the Swinging Door cares if I’m clean or not. All they want is my money.
As he headed out of the bunkhouse, he heard the sound of the ranch wagon coming into the yard. Glancing around the corner of the building, he saw a small woman sitting beside Salty and his heart lurched. Oh, hell. I hoped she’d change her mind and not show up. Then my dear uncle would have to start looking for somebody all over again. He smirked to himself. I told him Lottie at the Swinging Door would be willing to become my bride. At least she’s not some stranger who’ll probably be as rigid as those society women usually are. I’ve been with her enough to know Lottie understands how to please a man and what more could a man ask of his wife?
* * * *
Drina’s eyes grew wide with surprise as the wagon stopped in front of the large two-story house. She knew Mr. Wilcox was a somewhat prosperous rancher, but she never expected this. She thought he’d probably lived in some sort of cabin, but this place told her differently. The house was not only more imposing than she expected it to be, but it had a wrap-around porch downstairs, as well as a balcony leading from the second floor. The eaves were trimmed with gingerbread lattice work. This was the kind of house only the rich could afford in Georgia, and from what she’d seen on her journey west, few ranchers lived in such a grand manner.
Again, she couldn’t help wondering why a man with all of this fancy property had to send away for a wife. Most any woman would be delighted to reside in such a grand place. It flittered across her mind, regardless of what Salty had said, Aaron Wilcox must be such a terrible person that anyone who knew him would never consent to be his wife.
She didn’t have time to dwell on this thought long. A woman with her black hair in long braids down her back, wearing a colorful skirt and a long puffy-sleeved blouse with a bright orange shawl appeared on the porch and nodded at her. Drina nodded back because she was speechless. Was this woman an Indian? She sure looked like what Drina thought an Indian would look like. Of course, she’d never seen one before, and maybe that was because she didn’t go into Savannah very often. Indians didn’t tend to work on the farms in Georgia.
Salty came around the wagon and reached up to help Drina down. As he sat her on the ground he whispered in her ear, “That’s Beulah Longfeather. They say she’s some a’kin to Aaron, a distant cousin or an aunt or something to his mother. She’s also his housekeeper and cook. Until you get to know her, don’t let her frighten you. She’s really a good woman and loyal to Aaron. She’s always been able to put up with all his shenanigans, even if she doesn’t approve of them. She’ll be the same to you when she gets to know you and sees how nice you are.”
“Thanks for telling me, Salty.” Drina was immediately filled with fear. Was Aaron Wilcox an Indian? Nobody mentioned this fact, if it happened to be true. Praying she’d misunderstood Salty, she turned around and noticed Beulah had descended the steps.
“Come with me, Miss Hamilton.” The
woman spoke in a tone that was neither friendly nor unfriendly. Without being introduced, she took Drina’s elbow and headed back up the four steps to the porch. “I’m supposed to get you ready for the wedding.”
“I’ll bring her belongings inside, Beulah.” Salty reached into the wagon and lifted the trunk to his shoulder.
She nodded without looking around at him.
“I know you’re tired and hungry,” Beulah said as they went through the door and down a hall. “I put a little bite to eat and some fresh water in the room where you’ll be dressing. I’ll get you some coffee, if you desire it.”
“Water will be fine. I’m a bit thirsty.”
“Very good.”
Drina only got glimpses of the house as Beulah hurried her toward the hall off to the left behind the stairs. She was impressed by what little she did see in the dimming evening light before they turned into the hall. She’d spied a man sitting in a rocking chair near a huge rock fireplace and wondered if he was Aaron Wilcox. He was busy reading some papers and didn’t look up as she passed by. What little furniture she could see looked expensive, but she couldn’t see details, then the housekeeper stopped in front of a room.
Opening a door on the left side of the hall, she said, “Here is where you can change. I’ve already put warm water on the washstand so you can wash off.”
“Thank you, ma’am.”
“Call me Beulah. Everyone on the ranch does.” She turned as Salty entered with the trunk on his shoulder and a valise in his hand. “Put her things down there at the foot of the bed.”
He did, and smiled at Drina. “When I see you again, you’ll be getting ready to be Mrs. Wilcox, so I’ll just wish you good luck at this time, Miss Hamilton.”
“Thank you, Salty.” She wanted to ask why she’d need luck, but she didn’t dare. Besides, it was too late for questions.
Beulah turned to the trunk. “Do you have a special dress you want to wear for the wedding?”
“Yes. My sister, Hannah made a wedding dress for me. It’ll be near the top of the trunk.” If Drina had had the chance she’d have asked Salty if Mr. Wilcox was an Indian, but she wouldn’t dare ask Beulah. For some reason, this woman intimidated her. Probably the Indian blood and the lack of expression on her face. Drina had been around several races of people in Savannah, but she’d never encountered an Indian.
Beulah didn’t comment about the wedding dress, but began searching for it. Pulling it out, she nodded. “Your sister has much talent. She made a lovely dress for you. You must be proud of her.”
“Yes, I am. She always does a good job with her needle work. She loves to sew.”
Shaking the dress, Beulah said, “You eat a bite now, then wash up. I’ll be back to help you dress. Mr. Aaron is anxious to start the wedding.”
“Thank you, Beulah.”
When she was alone, Drina decided since she’d already committed to go through with this even if Aaron was an Indian, she better not tarry. She ate the bread and cheese, then drank the water. She ignored the apple because she was afraid it might take too much time to eat it and everyone seemed to be in a rush. Moving to the washstand, she took a quick sponge bath because it was chilly in the room and she didn’t want to get too many goose bumps. She had stepped into her under garments when Beulah re-entered the room.
“Good. You’re almost ready.” The housekeeper picked up the beautiful white wedding dress and held it for Drina to slip into. “As soon as I get you buttoned up, I’ll comb your hair. Do you want it put up on your head?”
“Whatever you think will look best for this occasion.”
It took fifteen minutes to put Drina’s blonde curls on top of her head, but when she looked in the beveled mirror above the small dresser, she thought it was worth it. “I’ve never had my hair up on my head like this, Beulah. It looks beautiful.”
Beulah nodded. “I guess you’re all ready to get married. Let’s go now. Mr. Aaron said the wedding is to take place in front of the fireplace in the parlor.”
With a pounding heart, Drina nodded and followed the woman out the door and down the hall. It surprised her to see Salty standing at the end of the hall.
He winked at Drina and held out a bunch of wildflowers. “I think I heard somewhere that every bride needs some blooms to carry on her wedding day.”
Touched by his kindness, tears came to her eyes. “Oh, Salty, you’re wonderful. Thank you.”
He blushed. “It ain’t nothing but a bunch of weeds. It’s hard to find a lot of flowers this time of year.”
“They’re not weeds, Salty. They’re the most beautiful flowers in the world. I’ll carry them proudly.”
“If you say so. Now, go on with you and get yourself married.”
She nodded and turned toward the parlor. Somehow, Beulah had disappeared, and it seemed the walk to the fireplace was a thousand feet. Then her gaze landed on those of the tall man standing there staring at her.
Chapter 3
Aaron looked at the small woman who was headed toward him across the room. Starting at the top of her head and sliding his eyes to the toes of the white shoes sticking out from under the white satin dress made him take a steadying breath. Oh, good Lord, I hoped she’d be plain looking, but this woman is a little beauty. Too bad we couldn’t have met under different circumstances. Pushing these thoughts away, his dark eyes came to rest on her blue ones.
Hell and damnation, his thoughts began again. She looks frightened in this candle light. I wouldn’t think of hurting a tiny thing like her.
“Come on in, Miss Hamilton, and join your intended right here in front of me,” the preacher’s booming voice interrupted Aaron’s thoughts and made Drina jump. As if he didn’t notice, the tall clergyman went on, “I’m glad Aaron asked me to perform these nuptials, because we all think it’s about time he took a bride.”
Drina gave him a weak smile, but said nothing.
“Let’s get on with it, Preacher Jamison,” Aaron muttered.
“Anxious, huh?” Reverend Jamison laughed.
“You could say that,” Aaron said. His voice held none of the frivolity that the preacher’s did.
“All right, then. Let’s get to it. Are you ready to take these vows along with this man, young lady?”
She took a breath and her words were barely audible. “Yes, sir.”
Without further comment, the preacher launched into the traditional wedding ceremony, and within ten minutes, he said, “I now pronounce you man and wife. Now, Aaron Wilcox you can kiss your new bride.”
Aaron wasn’t sure he wanted to kiss this woman and he was just as unsure about how she felt. Maybe she didn’t want to be kissed. On the other hand, he knew it would make the reverend suspicious if he didn’t kiss his new wife at all.
Because he couldn’t think of a way to avoid it, he leaned down, hesitating for just a moment. Had he ever seen lips so pink and soft? For an instant, he wanted to crush her to him and taste all the sweetness he was sure was there. Shaking the thought away, he brushed her lips with his for only an instant. The brief encounter sent a sensation down his back that he was sure he’d never felt before. He tried to think logically. Must be the circumstances of this marriage. I can’t think of another reason why her lips would feel any different than any other woman I’ve ever kissed.
“Well, now that you’re married, I sure would like to stay around and enjoy the festivities with you folks this evening,” Reverend Jamison’s loud voice jolted Aaron back to the present, “but Neely Doolittle’s mother died, and they said they expected me out there as soon as I finished up here.”
“You mean Neely Doolittle’s mother was still living?” Beulah asked. “Why, Neely, herself is nigh on to eighty or eighty-five.”
“She sure is, and her mama was a hundred and two. Do you believe that? Nobody else I’ve ever known has lived that long.”
“Well, if you ask me, it was time for the old woman to go on.”
“I agree, Beulah, but I guess you never want y
our mother to die, no matter how old she is.” He turned to Aaron. “Now, young fellow, you be nice to this little wife of yours. I don’t want to hear you’ve mistreated her in any way.”
“I have no intentions of mistreating her, Reverend Jamison.” Aaron took the hand the man offered and wondered if everyone actually thought he’d be mean to this pretty young woman. He’d never been mean to a woman in his life and he didn’t intend to start with the one he had to marry. “Thank you for taking time to perform the wedding.”
“I was glad to do it.” He turned to Drina. “I’m sure you’re going to make a fine wife for Aaron and I hope to hear soon that you’re about to give him an heir for this ranch of his.”
Drina blushed and dropped her gaze.
The preacher didn’t seem to notice. He nodded at Salty and headed to the door.
Beulah and Aaron followed.
* * * *
Drina took a deep breath and looked at Salty with a faint smile. “Well, I guess that’s that.”
Salty nodded. “You’re right. Now you’re a married woman. Do you want me to call you Mrs. Wilcox or Miz Drina or what?”
“Salty, you may call me anything you want to, but as far as I’m concerned, I’m fine with Drina.”
“Then Miz Drina it is.”
“You know you don’t have to say ‘Miz’ to me.”
“Oh, yes I do. It not only shows I respect you as a married woman, but it shows I respect that you are the boss’s wife.”
“Then, by all means, call me Miz Drina if it makes you feel better.” She smiled at him again and wondered if she should ask him about Aaron’s heritage. The man did have awfully dark hair and eyes. She then decided she’d better not bring it up. Not at this time, anyway.
“I know it was rushed, but it was a purty wedding, Miz Drina. You looked plum beautiful and them candles in the parlor made such a purty glow on everything.”
“You helped make it pretty, too, Salty. Again I want to thank you for the flowers. I was very pleased you gave them to me. They added a lot to the occasion.”
Beulah came back into the room. “I have a good wedding supper cooked, Salty. I’m sure Mr. Aaron would be happy for you to join them.”
Drina’s Choice Page 3