by Faye Sonja
"Ah, it's Thomas," Kit grumbled. "Why's he always gotta make such a scene? Let everyone know he's arriving?"
Jedediah glanced up. "Ah no, and he's coming right this way as well."
Both Kit and Jedediah bristled as the younger man rode up to them before dismounting his horse and standing before them. He dipped his hat and greeted Kit and Jedediah as old friends.
"What do you want, Thomas?" Kit asked, cutting to the chase.
"Ah, just wanted to pop by and say hello," Thomas said, peering over Kit's shoulder to look inside his house.
"You never just want to say hello," Kit spat. "Just come out and tell us what you want."
"Town meeting, tomorrow night," Thomas said, stepping back and giving his horse a pat on the back. "With the women arriving next week I think we need to get a few things in order."
Jedediah screwed up his face. "What things do we need to get in order? Place is fine as it is."
Kit agreed but he remained silent for a moment, keen to hear what Thomas had to say. He was certain he wasn't going to like it, whatever it was.
Thomas raised an eyebrow. "Fine? Is that what you fellas call it?" He pointed over his shoulder to Kit's home. "I sure hope you're going to get this place in order before your bride arrives, Kit."
Kit crossed his arm over his chest. "First of all, son, this is my home and you've no right to tell me what to do with it. Second of all, what's wrong with the joint?" He sat back and looked over his shoulder at the dark little cottage. "Once Isabella arrives, she'll be at home to spruce the place up anyway."
"I'm to be sheriff of this town," Thomas said proudly, eliciting eye-rolls from the other two men. "So it is my place to say what does and doesn't need to be done. And your house, Kit, looks like it could collapse at any given moment. Are these really the sort of conditions you wish for your wife to live in? I demand that you fix it up immediately."
Kit had already had enough of Thomas's chat, so he stood up and placed his hat back on his head. "Listen, we'll be at that meeting tomorrow night, son, but this is the last I'll hear of you telling me what to do with my own property."
Hearing the menace in the older man's voice, Thomas took a step back towards his horse, then turned to climb back on. "Fine," he said, swallowing. “I’ll expect you at the town hall at seven.” He climbed back and rode off without a formal goodbye, and Kit and Jedediah turned to look at each other.
“You could actually clean the place up a bit,” Jedediah pointed out. “I know you don’t want to hear it from Thomas, but at least hear it from me. Our wives will likely end up being friends – they’re travelling out here together – and I don’t want her visiting a place that’s unsafe.”
Though Kit knew that was true, he didn’t want to hear it from Jedediah either, so he stood up. “Time to go inside for the night I think.”
“Aww, Kit, I was only saying what I thought needed saying”…"
Kit pushed his chair back, before exiting the porch. "Why don't you and Thomas go gossip between yourselves, then? You can talk about what a blight I am to this town, till you’re both blue in the face.”
“Kit, we don't talk about ya. No one does."
"I know what they all say about me in this town," Kit said, turning his back on his friend.
"Hey," Jedediah said, strolling over to him, laying a hand on Kit's back. "Don't pay any mind to what people in this town say. They're all mad anyway."
Kit turned back around. "Doesn't that make you and me mad as well?"
Jedediah chewed on his bit of hay and shrugged, chuckling a bit. "That's what they say about all of us in this town, don't they?"
* * *
3
The Three Brides Arrive
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“ How could I start over again,
here, even if I wanted to? "
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White Elk Valley,
1871
Isabella almost gasped as she first lay eyes on the lake, as her wagon pulled into White Elk. She wasn't prone to such strong displays, but the beauty of the lake, with its pristine deep waters and shimmering top, almost caused her to lose her breath.
"How can they make up such bad stories about a place as beautiful as this?" she wondered, clutching her bag. There was a chill in the air, blowing in from the mountains, across the lake, and she shivered a little.
"I suppose there is a certain eeriness about this place," she thought, looking around. But she said nothing to the other women, not wishing to look foolish in front of them. She could tell just from looking at them that she was a bit older than they were - the one with the pregnant belly looked to be about nineteen years old, for goodness sakes! - and she thought she should set an example.
The elder of the two - Susan, she was called, with long golden blonde hair and wearing modern, almost tom-boyish clothes - sat silently, taking in the view slowly, as though she was analysing it. The young girl with the baby - Mollie - was so preoccupied with her own thoughts, as she gazed down at her swollen belly, that she barely looked up.
"It feels as though we've been on this wagon forever," Mollie commented, finally bringing her face up, sticking her nose into the air. She sighed. "Doesn't look much fun out here."
"Who said anything about fun?" Susan asked, swinging down from the seat onto the ground. "I think it looks wonderful out here. Majestic, even. I could get lost out here."
"That's what people say..." Isabella murmured, temporarily forgetting that she was supposed to be setting the example. "They say people do get lost out here, that they disappear." She coughed and straightened herself up. "Silly, of course. If people get lost out here, they likely choose to do so."
Mollie nodded, her brown ringlets bouncing up and down. She had a pleasant, round face, pretty, with big brown eyes and plump lips. "They say all sorts of things about this place," she whispered.
"Oh, it's all nonsense, girls," Isabella said, taking control of the conversation. "Come now, we've all got much more important things to focus on now instead of silly stories.”
The other two took her lead and followed her down the road to the town. There was a sign that directed them where to go, telling them that White Elk was one mile's walk East.
"I don't see why the wagon couldn't have taken us all the way," Mollie, grumbled, waddling down the path. "Our soon-to-be-husbands will be shocked to see us walking on our own like this. They'll have assumed the wagon would drop us at the church, as we agreed on."
"The driver still had a long journey ahead of him," Susan pointed out. "We should be grateful he took us as far as he did. Lucky we're not walking ten miles instead of one."
"Here," Isabella said, reaching out for the young, pregnant girl to put her arm around her, so that Isabella was supporting her weight for her. "Come, lean on me," she said.
Mollie gratefully accepted the help. "Thank you, Isabella. I suppose you're used to taking care of people, aren't you?"
Isabella smiled, trying not to show the strain the girl's weight was having on her. She quickly prayed that she would be able to hold up for the rest of the walk.
Mollie kept talking. "I'm glad you arrived with us, Isabella. I was worried there wasn't going to be a doctor in town, no one to help me deliver."
"I'm not sure there already was a doctor," Isabella remarked, with a raise of the eyebrow. "In fact, I don't know what state this town is in, or what we're going to find when we get there..."
* * *
"Is this...it?" Mollie asked, as they reached the edge of the town of White Elk. Isabella put her down, now that they had a chance to stop and rest, and surveyed the small town.
"Doesn't even look like they have a doctor's practice here..." she murmured, unsure if that was a good thing or a bad thing. "On the one hand, the people here might be ignorant about hygiene and medicine, and it might be difficult to get them to change their minds. On the other hand,
it looks like I could be of great service to this town." For Isabella, the small, strange town looked like nothing but a blessing. She was already pleased she'd made the long journey.
Mollie, grumbling next to her, seemed to think the opposite. "Where are we supposed to shop, for our dresses, and our garments?”
“We have to make our own here,” Isabella said brightly. “I dare say the women around here won’t be wearing fancy gowns. They’ll be dressed in strong, industrious materials, made for lives spent working.”
“Well, I won't be working," Mollie said, sticking her nose in the air.
"Of course not," Isabella chuckled, placing an arm around the girl. "Babies are no work at all..." she said, poking her tongue out.
Mollie smiled. "Okay, you've made a good point. I suppose I'll be working harder than I've ever worked in my life, in a few months’ time." She sighed. "I just hope my husband, Thomas, will be around to help me out."
Susan, who'd been remarkably quiet up until this point, suddenly piped up. She reached a hand out to point down the road. “Is that them?” she asked, reaching a hand up to shield her eyes.
Isabella stopped and stared at the three men in the distance. Even from so far back, she could tell all three men were handsome, but all very different. One was young looking, maybe twenty years old or so, with fair hair and clean, well-tailored clothes. The second was a tall, dark haired man, of about twenty-five years, who walked with a definite swagger, as he led the way up the hill. Then there was the final man - tall, handsome in a gruff way, around thirty-three years old, wearing a leather hide jacket and black cowboy boots. Isabella knew that must be Kit, the man she was about to marry. She knew because of one very important identifying attribute. In the letters they'd exchanged, Kit had told Isabella he'd been injured in the war, and that he'd needed a limb amputated.
"Yes," Isabella thought, taking a deep breath, for she knew her life was about to become very different. "That's definitely him."
* * *
The wedding ceremonies took place all at once, with the three brides and the three grooms marrying at the same time. Isabella was grateful for this, as she'd bonded with Susan and Mollie during the long journey, and having them beside her calmed her nerves.
Still, she hardly knew what to say to Kit Greegeory when they first met. "You must be Isabella," he said, immediately picking her out of the three women. She realized she must have described herself well - golden hair somewhere between blonde and brown that she wore in a sensible style, tall, with pale grey-blue eyes and soft delicate features. She hoped he recognized her based on her good description, not on her age. "Then again, he could hardly have confused me with Mollie," she thought.
Isabella tried to hide her nerves by looking directly at Kit. As a doctor, she was used to dealing with men, and didn't regard them as foreign, strange creatures as a lot of women did. Still, looking directly into his eyes only made her more nervous, and she dipped her head before he could see her blush. She felt like she'd been suddenly reduced to a silly, giggling girl.
"I'm pleased to meet you, Kit," she said, keeping her head bowed, and her voice low.
"I hope so, Isabella. Seems like I've been waiting for you an awful long time. I'm so glad you're finally here."
She smiled, then dared to lift her head again. Kit Greegeory had kind eyes, if you really looked, but there was also a weariness to his face, more lines then you'd expect to find on a man of only thirty-three, and a hardness to his lips that only disappeared when he smiled. But he was smiling right then, and Isabella felt at ease. Not like she had arrived in a foreign place, but like she'd arrived home.
* * *
Kit had to wear his wedding band on his right hand, which he assured Isabella was alright. "As long as we're married in the eyes of God, it's all official, isn't it? Don't matter which finger the wedding ring goes on."
"Of course not," Isabella replied quickly, smiling.
As the pastor performed the ceremony for the three grooms and the three brides, Isabella looked down at her own wedding band, placed on her left hand. She saw Kit look down at it and asked him if everything was alright.
"Of course," he said, taking her hand, and smiling gently. "Just thinking...that it's odd we will wear our bands on different hands."
Isabella thought for a second, then, giving a quick glance at the pastor and the other newlyweds, quickly took her band off her left hand, and placed it on her right. Mollie stared at her, wide-eyed, while Susan smiled and shot her a nod.
"There," Isabella stated, grinning up at Kit. "Now we match."
* * *
But Isabella did have questions she wanted to ask. She had a forward manner about her that could be endearing, and helped to put her patients at ease, but she worried she might be too forward for her new husband, if she started asking personal questions right away.
It wasn't until they reached the cottage that she spoke up. "Kit, if you don't mind me asking, how do you work?" She waited for the response as she saw a strange look creep across his face.
"I do just fine, don't worry about that," he said.
"Oh," she said, taken aback. "I didn't mean to suggest you can't work. I just...wanted to know, how you manage it?"
"Only need one arm to swing an axe, don't ya?"
"Isn't that a little dangerous though?"
"Jedediah helps me out," he said, flatly.
"Oh. Okay then." Isabella could tell it was a sensitive topic, so she dropped it and turned her attention to the small house. "It's very cozy," she said, brightly.
Kit looked pleased. "You like it then? Some of the men were saying you wouldn't."
"I love it. It's clean, and tidy, and it will do us plenty good."
He looked relieved to hear her say this. "I cleaned it up good before ya got here. Jedediah said I oughta. Looks like it was worth it though, from your reaction."
Isabella wondered about the influence Jedediah had on Kit. It looked like it was a good influence, so far, but she'd met the man earlier and wondered if he would always lead him in such a good direction. "Anyway," she thought, "I can worry about that later. It's time to settle in now." She glanced around the small kitchen, with its old stove and rickety dining table.
"Now you're here I suppose the place will look even better," Kit commented.
"Oh?" Isabella replied, absentmindedly. "Why's that?"
"Well, you'll be around the house, tidying, cleaning. Looking after things here."
Isabella stopped. "I intend to work, Kit." She smiled brightly at him and exited, to check out the remaining rooms.
Kit stopped and stared after her, his mouth wide open. Totally lost for words.
* * *
"What was that?" Isabella asked, grabbing her blankets around her. Kit was nowhere to be seen. The growling sound came again. "Come now, it's probably nothing," she told herself. "I've only been living out in the woods for a few weeks, and already I'm hearing things."
She wondered to herself if there really might be something to the rumors. It was one thing to scoff when she was hundreds of miles away, but now that she was here she could feel a definite eeriness to the place. The way the lake sat so still and deep, like it was full of secrets. Secrets that the branches of the trees in the woods seemed to catch, rustling with their own secret language.
She heard a banging in the wind, and the next thing Kit was coming in through the door, looking bruised and battered after a hard day's work. "What's wrong with you?" he asked, noticing the way Isabella was shaking, with her blanket pulled up to her chin.
She shook her head and attempted a smile. "Oh, nothing. Just being silly. I could have sworn I heard a growling sound coming from the woods."
Kit flicked her a grin. "Not afraid of monsters, are you Isabella?"
She let out a soft laugh. "No, of course not."
Kit sat down and took his boots off, laying them in front of the fire to dry off. "How about bears?"
"Bears?" Isabella asked, her voice hushed. "
Oh, please tell me you're joking Kit."
He laughed. "Not around here. Just don't go too far into the woods. Come now, it's time to turn in."
But Isabella didn't get a wink of sleep that night. She wasn't sure what possibility was worse: that there were monsters in the woods, or that there were bears.
* * *
4
Isabella’s Announcement
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“ How could I start over again,
here, even if I wanted to? "
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White Elk, 1871,
One Month Later
"Ahem," Isabella said, clearing her throat. She was standing in front of their dining room table, where Kit was enjoying his breakfast of bread and apricot preserves. He glanced up at her, mid-mouthful.
"You look like you got something to say."
"I do," Isabella said, her voice clear and plain. She'd carefully rehearsed the words she was about to say to Kit, till she was confident and strong in her resolve. "I've decided, Kit, that I'm to return to work here, in White Elk."
He dropped his piece of bread and stared up at her. "What do you mean by that, Isabella? You don't work, now that you're my wife. You'll do just fine here at home." He furrowed his brow. "Do you think that I am unable to provide for you?"
She'd anticipated his reaction, so she continued to speak confidently. "Kit, I know that you are able to provide for us on your own, and I appreciate that. But I believe the town of White Elk needs me, and I believe that I can do a lot of good out here."
He narrowed his eyes. "Doing what exactly?"
"Well, practicing medicine, of course." This was one part that she hadn't anticipated. She'd assumed that Kit would know that she would want to continue to work as a doctor - not as some sort of seamstress, or maid, or whatever it was he was guessing.