by Carré White
“Now, you mustn’t be so sore, Fanny,” chided mother. “It’s unbecoming, darling. You look like a sour schoolmarm.”
“My life is over.”
She sighed. “Oh, my goodness. Such dramatics.”
“You never had to marry someone you loathed. You would’ve never tolerated such a thing, but I have to. You don’t care one wit that my happiness is ruined.”
“He’s made an effort. He took most of the beard off.”
“It doesn’t matter.” I sat on a wooden chair, staring at the fire. “None of it matters. This was supposed to be the happiest day of my life. I’ve never felt so low.”
“Give it some time, Fanny. Things will look better in the morning. Mark my words. This isn’t the worst thing you’ll ever experience. Life is full of little horrors. They’re just spread out over time.”
I glared at her. “Thank you, mother. I feel so much better now.”
“I think I’m going to need a glass of wine. A big one.”
Once the sun had gone down, the party continued, as people laughed and shouted; the miners were well into their cups, having purchased considerable amounts of alcohol. I found myself faced with the very real possibility of having to consummate this farce. My husband had assembled a tent, which he fully expected to share with me. It didn't seem to matter to him that we had only met yesterday and that we had hardly spoken two words to each other since daybreak. He was determined to claim his husbandly rights, and I tried valiantly not to vomit at his gloating and eager expression.
I could not rely on my parents to rescue me from this impossible situation. I lacked the courage to throw myself into the river, and I had run out of options, seeing that I was now his lawfully wedded wife. While he waited for me to undress, glossy, slightly bleary eyes staring at my person, I tamped down revulsion, hating him with an all-consuming passion. The violence of these feelings left me trembling, my fingers struggling with the hooks and eyes of the dress. When I had finally freed myself of the corset, his eyes seemed to bulge, the watery surrounds glistening.
It was then that I began to wonder if there was something wrong with him. A strange tick moved the skin beneath his left cheek, while his mouth had formed an O. “Sir?” I had yet to remove the shift, praying that perhaps he would let me keep it on. There was a lamp, but it was dim. “Sir?”
“You sure do look…purdy.”
It was unimaginable that I would lose my virginity to this person, but…it seemed inevitable. “Thank you.”
He got onto his knees, reaching for his belt, which encircled his waist. His movements were clumsy, slow, and unfocused. Perhaps he had imbibed far too much whiskey. A work-roughened hand pulled the leather free, dropping the belt onto the blanket, but then he swayed, leaning backward and then forward.
“Are you well, sir?”
His expression appeared void, yet puzzled, as if he wasn’t aware of what was happening, although he wanted to focus on me, his eyes staring in my direction. He grimaced then, sucking in a sharp breath, while clutching his chest. I realized then that something was indeed amiss.
“Oh, my goodness gracious!” He groaned, grimacing, falling forward onto the blanket, where he landed with a thud. I had barely cleared a space for him. “What’s the matter with you?” I grasped the dress, tossing the garment over my head, while eyeing my husband, who had yet to move. Not wanting to touch him, I pulled on the half boots, hastening from the tent to find help. “Mother!” I found her preparing for bed.
Her look was sour. “Please, I’ve had enough for one day. I can’t bear to hear how I’ve ruined your life one more time—”
“Something’s wrong with him!” I grasped her arm. “You have to see. He’s collapsed.”
“He drank an awful lot. Perhaps, he needs to sleep it off.”
“I don’t think so. Something’s not right.”
“I’ve had a long day, Fanny. It’s been an ordeal for everyone. Can’t we just call it a night? Must everything be tears and dramatics?”
“He’s not moving! Come have a look.”
“Oh, very well, but I’m not happy about this.” I followed her to the tent, where she peered inside. “Mr. Hatch?” She glanced at me. “He’s drunk, my love.”
“Is he breathing?” I hated the fact that I was excited about the prospect of him not breathing. “You should check.” I certainly wasn’t going to. “Push on him or something.”
Mother entered the tent, grasping Jason’s shoulder and turning him over with effort. “He’s heavy. Mr. Hatch?” She smacked his cheek gently. “Hello?” Lifting an eyelid, she peered at him. “I haven’t a clue, Fanny. Perhaps he drank far more than we thought.”
“Is he breathing?”
She gave me a look. “I’ll see.” Nearing his mouth, she listened. “I don't hear anything.”
“A pulse. Does he have a pulse?”
Her finger pressed into his neck. “I…oh, dear.”
“What?”
Her mouth fell open. “He’s dead, Fanny. What on earth did you do to him?”
“I never touched him!” Excitement raced through me, which was slightly tempered by a wave of shame. “Is he really dead?”
“I do believe so. There’s no sign of life…at all.”
“Oh, how terrible.”
“What happened before he collapsed?”
“He was undressing, and then he clutched his chest and fell over.”
“It sounds like a heart malady.”
“I suppose. I’ll get my things. I’m sleeping in the wagon.” I crawled into the tent, stuffing items into a leather traveling case.
“The poor man.” She shook her head. “He only wanted a wife who would make him happy, and now…he’s dead. How can you be so cavalier about this?”
“What?”
“Don’t you care one wit that your husband has died?”
“I do. It’s a terrible thing. I shall weep for all the rest of my days.” A yawn escaped me, my mouth widening. “I’m spent. I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Then that’s it? That’s all you have to say?”
“God has spoken, mother. He heard my prayers. I’ve been saved from a miserable existence. My faith has been restored.”
She pursed her lips. “We shall see about that. Your lack of empathy shall be duly noted by Him.”
“How can I have feelings for someone I don’t know? He’s a stranger to me. I’m entirely grateful I didn’t have to…to…be with him. I was saved, mother. Devine intervention has come to the rescue.”
“I need to speak to your father. He’ll have to summon the wagon master. The authorities must know about this.” She glanced at Jason. “I do so hope you rest in peace, sir. May you find your way to heaven.”
After breakfast the next day, I prepared for the funeral, finding a simple black dress in the bottom of my bag. I hummed to myself while fixing my hair, securing the brownish, gold locks with pearl tipped pins. A black hat completed the look with a furry black shawl draped over my shoulders. Strands of plastic baubles went around my neck, which was an unnecessary embellishment, but I wore it anyhow. I was happier today than I could remember, feeling as if a weight had been lifted from my shoulders.
When mother saw the expression on my face, she took my arm, pulling me aside. “You had best wipe that smile from your face!” Her tone was stern, unforgiving. “You should be ashamed of yourself, Fanny Hoffman. A man has died, and you’re parading around like you’re attending a party.”
“I…” I gazed into her wide, angry eyes, “can’t help it. I didn’t want to marry him, and now I’m free.”
“Where is your compassion? How could I have raised a daughter who has no feelings for people? A man is dead.”
“I didn’t do it. It wasn't my fault.”
“Is there any chance of you not smiling at the funeral?”
“Of course I won’t smile. I’ll cry, if you want me to. All I have to do is think about grandfather’s funeral, and I’ll cry.”
>
Father approached, having overhead a portion of the conversation. “Come now, Emma, let’s not be so hard on Fanny. She made it quite clear she has no feelings for the man. It shouldn’t be a surprise that she won’t grieve his passing. He was a complete stranger to her.”
“But he was a human being. He should be mourned like all people.”
“And he will be.” He held out his arm. “Let’s go attend the service then. People are waiting.”
I grasped his wrist. “Thank you, father. I’m glad someone understands how I feel.”
Mother harrumphed. “You two are shameful. You’ll have a great deal of praying to attend to before Sunday, if you expect to be forgiven.”
“Yes, my dear,” said father. “I’ll be duly punished, I suppose, but for what, I’m not sure. He was a stranger to me as well, although he seemed kind enough.”
A group of people waited near the river, standing over a shallow grave. Mr. Jason Hatch had been wrapped in cloth, waiting to be buried. I stood over him, feeling sorry for his loss, but it was difficult to muster deeper emotions. As the preacher read from the Bible, we watched the men lower the body, letting it drop in an unceremonious heap three inches from the bottom. I grasped a handful of earth, tossing it upon him, while others threw in wild flowers. The tears that streamed down my face were entirely for the memory of my loving grandfather, who had always been kind to me, telling stories and letting me sit on his lap. He had been a generous and loving man. I would miss him.
“There, there, Mrs. Hatch,” said a woman, who smiled understandingly. “You couldn’t have known he had a heart condition. He probably wasn’t even aware of it himself. What a shame to be taken so soon.”
“Yes,” I breathed. “It’s…terrible.”
“And now you’re a widow. At such a young age.”
My mouth hung open. I hadn’t thought of it that way. Oh, goodness! I’m a widow at eighteen. Mother’s stern expression rankled me. I thrust my shoulders back, determined not to let her or a funeral ruin my day.
Chapter Four
Denver City, Colorado Territory
A real bed was a luxury, although it was small and in the baby’s room. Letty slept through the night, which was a relief, but she woke early, never sleeping past seven. Then she would pull the covers from me.
“Letty, you little scamp,” I grated. “Give me the blanket back!”
She giggled, running to the other side of the room. “Blankie mine now!”
I groaned, rolling onto my back, staring at the ceiling. “I can’t wait until the house is built.”
We had arrived two days ago, hungry and exhausted, having traveled over five hundred miles of wilderness. But, we were lucky, as many had continued onward to Oregon, Utah, and California. Their journey was only half over.
A knock on the door startled me. My sister, Hannah, peeked into the room. “I thought I heard tiny footsteps.” Her belly swelled with pregnancy, the apron tenting before her. “Letty. Come to mommy.”
“No.”
This was her favorite word. “Let your Aunt Fanny sleep. She’s tired, honey.”
“No!”
“Is that your blanket?”
“She does this every morning.”
Hannah strode into the room, snatching the blanket, while lifting Letty into her arms. “You’re a naughty little girl for waking your Aunt Fanny.” The toddler squealed with delight. “She’s a handful at this age. I’m sorry.”
“I should get up anyhow. When are we leaving for church?”
“You have two hours. There’s plenty of time.”
“Is there coffee?”
“Of course. Everyone’s downstairs.”
My sister and her husband, Nathan, had kindly taken us in, and they had done the same for Paulina, who had stayed with them while her house was being constructed. Louisa had lived here as well, until she married Matthias. Mother was eager for her own home, wanting to settle down properly. They were going to build on Nathan and Hannah’s land, which would allow them to be close to their children and grandchildren. I thought it a marvelous idea.
“Tell me the truth, Hannah. Will you hate it, if we lived here?”
“Of course not.” She balanced Letty on a hip. “We’ve plenty of space. The extra acre isn’t farmable, so it’s perfect for a house. Get dressed, and come down. Maria made her famous ham and egg casserole.”
Once properly attired, I joined my parents in the kitchen, where they sat with Hannah at a rectangular table. Letty played with the dog, George. He let her tug on his fur, not minding being treated in such a way.
“I like the design Paulina used,” said Hannah. “I love the way the dining room is connected to the kitchen. It’s ingenious not to have to carry things all the way through to the front. You should study hers first before deciding.”
“I’ll do that,” said mother. “I’m so looking forward to seeing her and Louisa and all those children. Oh, goodness.”
Hannah rubbed her bulging stomach. “Yes, we’re singlehandedly populating Denver City. The schoolhouse will be filled with members of our own family. Miss Cox will be beside herself.”
“And Paulina’s had her baby, a boy. I can’t wait to hold him.”
“We’ll have brunch at her house, which is what we do most Sundays. Then you’ll see her clever floor plan firsthand.”
“That sounds wonderful.”
Hannah glanced at me. “Have you written to Jason’s family?”
“I did at Fort Laramie. I gave them your address, if they need to contact me. I’m not sure why they would want to. He had three brothers, but they’re back east. His sister passed away last year, the poor thing. His parents died several years before. They perished in a house fire.”
“What tragedy that family has seen,” remarked mother.
“Well, perhaps you’ve inherited something,” said Hannah.
A strange look passed between my mother and sister. “I doubt it. He was…not well to do…at all.”
“I’d check the post office, but you’ll have to wait until Monday. I’m sure your friends have written you by now, wanting to know all about your adventures.”
“I sent letters from Fort Kearny and Fort Laramie. They should be well-appraised of the goings-on.”
“There has been talk that he might’ve had children,” said Hannah.
“That’s impossible. He was never married.” Again, she glanced at mother. “Do you know something I don’t?”
“Well, Louisa’s husband, Matthias, thinks he might have known him. He said something about children, but…perhaps you’d best check the mail and see if anyone has sent you anything.”
“He must have someone else in mind. Jason Hatch was unencumbered. I’d been corresponding with him for quite some time. Not once did he mention children.” My sister smiled, but there was something in her look that produced a strange knot in my stomach.
Within two hours, we were on our way to church, needing more than one wagon to bring us to town. I sat with my parents in ours. The wooden slats had been removed, and it was fully open, exposed to the elements. Hannah traveled with her family and their housekeeper, Maria. They were behind us on the dusty, rutted road. Paulina and Louisa lived closer to Denver City, further up and around the bend. They would meet us at the church. I was excited to see my sisters, as it had been ages since we had all been together in one place.
We had arrived late Friday, and there had hardly been enough time to wash our things and recover from the bone-jarring weariness of more than two months of traveling. Sitting in the wagon brought back memories. Many of the families we had journeyed with had continued on over the mountains. It would be another two months before they arrived at their destination. I was eternally grateful my sisters hadn’t settled in California.
I had not seen Denver City before, as we had skirted around its edges to reach Hannah’s property. There was one major thoroughfare lined with newly constructed buildings made out of wood. Tents and log cabins hous
ed miners, who were permanently camped here and in the mountains, prospecting for gold in Cripple Creek, Georgetown, Fairplay and Breckenridge. As in any town, there was a post office, mercantile, saloon, and carpentry shops, along with other business, most of these catering to the needs of the miners.
Since it was Sunday, there were few people on the dusty street, although the doors of the saloon were open, laughter and music spilling out onto the thoroughfare. My sister’s husband, Nathan, had been known to frequent this establishment before he married her. He was a tall, handsome man who adored Hannah, and it was difficult to envision him being in such an environment. My parents adored him, which was surprising, as they had only met him two days ago.
There were several wagons before the church. People had gathered to chat before going in. The ladies wore their best Sunday frocks and bonnets. It was marvelous being in clean clothing. My dress was the black creation I had donned for my husband’s funeral. I’d worn a crinoline for the first time in months, feeling suitably attired at last. It was a shame that I was in mourning, at least I had to appear to be when I was in town. A straw bonnet protected my face from the sun; the hat was adorned with black ribbons. Father had worn a sack coat and hat, similar to the one Nathan had on.
We secured the horses, leaving the wagon in the shade of trees. Paulina hurried over, her expression jubilant. She carried a baby in her arms. “Oh, mother!” She hadn’t seen us for nearly a year. “You’ve arrived safe and sound!”
“Yes, my dear.” The women embraced.
I spied Louisa rushing towards us. Her belly was quite large with pregnancy. “Fanny! Mother! Father!”
The reunion was heartwarming; the Hoffmans had at last come together in one place. Our family was whole again. I embraced Louisa, marveling at how big she was.
“Let me see the little one,” said mother, holding Paulina’s son in her arms. “Oh, how sweet. You’ve done well, my darling.”
“He’s a handful,” she said.