One Bright Morning

by Duncan, Alice

  “All right, Jubal,” she whispered.

  She still needed to go back to her farm; but she didn’t have the energy to deal with that problem right now. Besides, she was absolutely certain that Jubal wouldn’t understand this particular need of hers: to see her home, to apologize to it, to say good-bye, to look for one last time upon the earthly resting place of her beloved Kenny.

  Jubal expelled a huge gust of breath. “You’ll marry me? Right now?”

  “Yes.”

  He held her close and rested his chin on her head. It took him a little while to realize he was breathing a prayer of thanks. It was the third prayer he’d uttered this day.

  “Jubal?” Maggie’s voice was so soft, he could barely hear her.

  “Yes, love?”

  “Even though we get married today, can we still have a ceremony in the patio when it’s ready? Sort of a party or something, and ask our friends?”

  Our friends. Jubal smiled at that. Until he’d met Maggie, he’d never even considered himself as having friends. She’d made both his heart and his eyes open wide, though, and he realized just how blessed he was, in spite of the feud that still threatened everything he was and everything he had.

  “Yes, Maggie,” he said with an almost painful welling of love in his chest. “We can have a party in the patio and invite our friends.”

  She snuggled up closer. “Thank you.”

  “But we’d better get this over with right now, or we’re never going to get out of this hotel room.”

  Jubal very gently set Maggie on the floor and stood up. She straightened her hair and pinned it back into a knot on her head while he tucked in his shirt and tidied himself up some. He put on a vest and a black string tie, and wished he’d thought to bring a better-looking jacket along with him. He consoled himself with the thought that he’d dress up properly for his bride when she held her party in the patio.

  An hour later, Maggie was Mrs. Jubal Green. It hadn’t taken any time at all to find a judge and secure a license. The most time-consuming detail had been the procurement of a wedding band.

  “I can use this one, Jubal,” Maggie said, fingering the thin gold band she’d worn for the past five years. It was worn down from hard work, but Maggie loved it and knew that she could never let it go completely.

  “You’re going to be my wife now, Maggie,” Jubal told her. He was making a great effort to hold his annoyance at bay. Maggie’s feelings were still too fragile to contend with his anger; he knew that, but it was a struggle to behave himself.

  He sucked in a deep, calming breath and continued. “Now, I’m not going to tell you to stop caring for Kenny Bright. I know you loved him. But I’ll be damned if you’re going to wear his ring on your finger after today.”

  Maggie turned Kenny’s ring around and around on her finger and stared at it for a long time. Jubal held his breath. Finally, she looked up at him and smiled, and he let the breath go.

  “All right, Jubal. Thank you.”

  She hugged his arm close as they strolled along the dusty plank walkway that had been laid to protect the ladies of El Paso from having to slog through the sloppy mud street on rainy days.

  Jubal directed them into a jeweler’s shop that wasn’t very far away from Garza’s mercantile establishment. The jeweler was a Chinaman, a circumstance Maggie found fascinating. She’d never seen an Oriental in the flesh before, and the deep gash of sorrow in her heart was forgot momentarily in her interest at this new phenomenon in her life.

  When Jubal told the merchant the nature of their errand, the man offered them a silky smile and brought forth a tray of rings.

  Maggie could only stare at the dazzling display of gold before her for so long that Jubal finally had to nudge her.

  “What do you think, Maggie?” He picked up an elaborate model that was bedecked with diamonds. “You like this one?”

  Maggie gazed at the ring with awe. It looked like a cluster of infinitesimal stars shimmering between Jubal’s big brown fingers, and it was entirely too splendid for her.

  “I can’t imagine wearing that, Jubal. It’s too fine.”

  When her beloved’s forehead crinkled up and she saw a frown blossoming, she hastened to add, “It’s not that I don’t like it, Jubal, it’s just that I’d feel funny wearing anything so—so big. I think I’d like something simpler. I’d be worried to death all the time if I wore that one.”

  Maggie shook her head, envisioning herself on her hands and knees scrubbing tiles in the patio and wearing the elaborate work of art that was presently clutched tightly in Jubal’s fingers. That ring was meant for a princess. Not for Maggie Bright. Maggie Green, she corrected herself with a clutch of real pleasure in her heart.

  “I want to get you something nice, Maggie,” Jubal told her fiercely. “I can afford it, and you’re worth it,” he added, just in case she had any questions about either of those circumstances.

  “Thank you, Jubal.” She gave his arm a quick squeeze and went back to eyeballing the tray. It was odd, she thought, how happiness and sorrow could live together in a person’s heart, neither emotion interfering with the other.

  Her eye kept straying back to one particular ring, and her fingers hovered over it. She felt funny about boldly picking it up to scrutinize it. She wished she had her eyeglasses, but Jubal wanted to get married before they did anything else in town. The jeweler spared her the decision.

  “Very pretty ring,” he announced, and plucked it out of its velvet sheath and held it before her.

  “You like that one?” Jubal’s expression was mighty dubious as he eyed the ring. It seemed awfully plain to him. It was fashioned out of three thin, flat bands of gold woven together. That was all. No diamonds sparkled from its braid. No jewels glistened from its coils.

  Maggie peered hard at the band, wishing she had on her eyeglasses. “Oh, yes,” she said. “I like that one a lot.”

  “You’re sure?”

  He was a little disappointed. He’d been hoping she’d go for something more flashy. He realized that was silly of him even as he thought it. This was Maggie. This wasn’t any other woman he’d ever known in his life. He decided he approved and took the ring out of the Chinaman’s hand and slipped it onto Maggie’s finger. It fit perfectly, so he took it right off again.

  “Sold,” he told the man.

  Maggie almost fainted when the jeweler told them how much the ring cost, but Jubal nonchalantly handed over the fifty-five dollars without so much as a flinch. She found herself wondering just how much money Jubal Green had that he could part with so much of it without batting an eye.

  Then they moseyed back to the judge’s office. Maggie surreptitiously slipped Kenny’s ring off of her finger, squeezed it once to her heart, and put it into her skirt pocket. She was unprepared for the sudden aching pang she felt. But the spirit of Kenny Bright, or her imagination, brushed gently against her mind again and told her that everything was all right. She wasn’t being disloyal. Maggie believed it.

  Fifteen minutes later, she and Jubal were strolling along the plank walkway to Mr. Whitney’s, the optician, arm in arm, Mr. and Mrs. Jubal Green. All thoughts of disloyalty fled from her heart, and Maggie stared at the beautiful new ring on her finger until she stumbled and Jubal laughed.

  “Better watch where you’re going, Mrs. Green,” he said. “I can only hold up one side of you on a public street.”

  Maggie blushed and smiled up at him. “Mrs. Green,” she sighed. “It sounds so strange to me.”

  Jubal was surprised at how wonderful he felt when he looked down into her pretty blue eyes and realized she was his. Now and forever, she was his. His wife. His Maggie. His hand closed over hers where she held his arm.

  “I love you, Maggie,” he whispered into her ear.

  Mr. Whitney seemed pleased when they told him their news. “Why, congratulations, Mr. Green. It’s a shame your parents can’t be here to meet your bride.”

  Jubal’s smile soured a little bit. “Yeah,” was
all he said.

  Mr. Whitney seemed to take special care when he tested the fit of Maggie’s eyeglasses. The wire branches tucked snugly behind her ears. Jubal was afraid they’d hurt her, but she assured him they didn’t. Still, he commanded Mr. Whitney to be absolutely certain that his wife’s tender ears wouldn’t be pinched by the wires.

  “That’s why we put rubber tips on them, Mr. Green. See?” Mr. Whitney held up the spectacles with a smile that told Maggie he wasn’t offended by Jubal’s concern.

  “Well, all right.” Jubal bestowed a fierce frown upon him to let him know that he’d be held personally accountable if Maggie’s ears began to hurt.

  Maggie thought her heart might just burst when she stepped out of the optician’s store with her new spectacles perched upon her nose. She could see. She looked at the town and then she looked at her ring and then she looked at her husband.

  Jubal eyed her with concern. “Don’t go to crying on me, Maggie. Not here on the street.”

  “I won’t, Jubal. I promise.”

  And she looked around some more. She was surprised at how scruffy the place looked now that she could see it. Before, all of life’s rough, ragged edges had sort of blurred together softly. Now she could see every scarred board, every filmy window, every bullet-pocked wall in the rough frontier town. It was beautiful. She loved it all. She didn’t allow the painful thought that she would never be able to clearly see Bright’s Farm take root and spoil her mood.

  She was squeezing Jubal’s arm tightly as she peered around, and Jubal was hard-pressed to keep from laughing in delight. His Maggie. His little wife.

  She only came up to his shoulder anyway, and even though she wasn’t as bone-thin as she’d been when he’d first collapsed into her life, she was still small. Her shiny, ripe-wheat hair was knotted up on top of her head and she had an absurd little flowered hat pinned to the knot. Her wire-rimmed spectacles perched upon her pretty freckled nose so sweetly that he wanted to kiss the tip of that precious nose.

  Maggie’s eyes swept the town before her once more and when she looked up at Jubal, she was positively beaming.

  “Oh, Jubal, it’s all so wonderful.”

  “Good.”

  An expression of concern suddenly crossed her face. “Do I look funny, Jubal? Tell me if I look funny. I don’t want you to think I look funny.”

  Jubal wanted to pick her up and swing her around, she was such a darling. “You look beautiful, Maggie. You’re perfect.”

  “Oh, I’m not,” Maggie cried in delight. She blushed up rosily and smiled with embarrassment.

  They spent a long time in Garza’s. Maggie was so thrilled at being able to see for the first time since she could remember, that she spent a lot of time just looking at things.

  Jubal didn’t mind. In fact, he was so pleased with himself, her, the day, and life in general that he couldn’t stop smiling. He just let her roam. Any time it looked as though she especially liked something, he bought it for her. He didn’t let her know that, of course, or she would have objected. He just motioned to a clerk, who gladly followed the couple on their rounds through the store, toting the items Jubal pointed out over to a counter, and keeping a running tally of the expenses.

  Jubal understood that fairy story now, the one about the prince and the beggar maid. Not, he reminded himself firmly, that Maggie was anything at all like a beggar maid. Far from it. His little Maggie was as tough as uncooked grits and he loved her to death. Still, it felt so good to be able to buy her things that he wasn’t about to deny himself the pleasure.

  As they meandered about the huge store, Jubal saw something that struck him as exactly what Maggie needed. It hit him like a flash, and the thought of it both pleased him and made his heart ache a little bit. But he knew it would make Maggie happy, and that’s what counted now. He picked it up, but this one item he didn’t hand to the clerk.

  By the time they were ready to leave, Jubal made an excuse to leave Maggie for a moment. He left his wife mulling over fabrics while he paid for everything. Then he tucked that one particular item into his shirt pocket and arranged with the clerk to have the rest of his surreptitious pile of goods sent to his ranch. When he rejoined Maggie, he was feeling like the cat in the cream pot.

  “Your patio is going to look so pretty, Jubal Green,” Maggie told him with excitement quivering in her voice, as they exited the store.

  She was clutching a brown parcel full of green calico that Jubal had forced her to buy because she liked it. She planned to make dresses for Annie and Connie Todd with it. She thought the green would look pretty with Connie’s red hair.

  “It’s our patio now, Mrs. Green,” he reminded her.

  Maggie glanced up at him with such love that he nearly keeled over under the force of it. “That’s right, it is,” she breathed happily.

  Mr. and Mrs. Green shared a beautiful dinner at their hotel. Jubal ordered a bottle of iced champagne.

  “I’ve never had champagne before,” Maggie confessed.

  Somehow that didn’t surprise Jubal any.

  “To us, Mrs. Green.” He tipped his glass toward his wife and she clinked hers to his.

  “It tickles,” she announced with a giggle.

  Jubal only smiled at her. Maggie had left her spectacles in the hotel room because she wanted to look pretty for him, and the soft candle light in the restaurant was dancing in her blue eyes. The flickering flames picked up accents from the flocked crimson wallpaper and whispered them over her face until she was bathed in a soft rosy glow, and Jubal didn’t think he’d ever seen anyone as lovely as his new bride was this evening. And her loveliness had nothing to do with the presence or absence of spectacles.

  She was all he’d ever wanted, and that knowledge hit him like a punch in the gut. Maggie was all the softness and goodness and love he’d never had, and he only now realized how much he needed it. He shook his head with the wonder of it all.

  “Are you happy, Maggie?” he asked softly.

  “Oh, yes, Jubal. Thank you.”

  “So am I.”

  Jubal had been saving his next surprise, the surprise he had found in Garza’s. He decided this was the time, in the soft light of the evening candles and their love. A little clumsily, he reached into his breast pocket, hauled out a little box, and handed it to Maggie.

  “What’s this, Jubal?”

  Maggie had never been given so many things in her life, and she felt funny about it. Still, she couldn’t stop the flush of pleasure that pinked her cheeks.

  “Open it, Maggie. It’s for you.” Jubal felt silly after he’d said that. Who else could it be for?

  So Maggie did as he commanded, opened the tiny box, and peered at the slender golden chain that lay on its velvet bed. Then she looked up at Jubal, curiosity making her eyes shine.

  “It’s lovely, Jubal.” She wasn’t sure what she was supposed to do with it.

  Jubal cleared his throat. “I thought you could put your old ring on it and wear it around your neck, Maggie.”

  “Oh, Jubal.” Maggie couldn’t whisper more than those two words because her throat closed up with emotion. Her fingers trembled when she picked up the chain and slipped Kenny Bright’s ring—the ring she had tucked into the pocket of her evening dress—onto it.

  Jubal felt awkward when he pushed his chair back and surged to his feet, but he wanted to clasp the chain around her neck.

  “Here, Maggie,” he said with gruff emotion. “Let me.”

  Maggie was embarrassed at the two tears that trickled down her cheeks. She tried to wipe them with her napkin before Jubal could catch her crying yet again.

  “Thank you so much, Jubal,” she breathed.

  His fingers were warm on her shoulders as he clasped the chain and she instinctively brushed her cheek against the back of his hand.

  “I’m sorry about your farm, Maggie,” Jubal whispered into her hair before he returned to his chair.

  Maggie’s heart clutched in a flinch of pain that lasted on
ly an instant. Her farm. She still needed to go back to her farm. The smile she gave him was wistful.

  “Well, I have you now, Jubal,” she said. “I have you and Annie. I guess I don’t need that old farm anymore.” She fingered her golden chain adorned with Kenny’s ring and smiled at him with so much love that Jubal felt an unfamiliar sting behind his own eyes. For a minute the appalling thought that he might burst into tears assailed him. He didn’t, though.

  Instead, when their wedding meal was over, he took his wife upstairs and they consummated their marriage with sweet and tender passion. Jubal loved Maggie until she thought she was going to shatter into a million pieces with the splendor of it. Jubal was sure he’d never walk again.

  “I love you, Maggie Green,” he whispered as they cuddled into sleep.

  “I love you, too, Jubal.”

  # # #

  “I wish there was something we could do about it, Mr. Pelch,” said Ferrett miserably. He chewed on his fingernails and looked as though he were about to cry.

  “So do I, Mr. Ferrett,” whispered Pelch. “But if we send a warning, we’re sure to be found out. You know we can’t do anything without that devil finding out about it.”

  Ferrett shook his head sadly. “That’s so, Mr. Pelch.”

  The two men sat in silence and listened to the chugging rumble of the train as it sped through the night away from the New Mexico Territory on its way to the State of Texas. They would be in El Paso the following day.

  “I feel like a murderer, Mr. Ferrett,” murmured Pelch.

  “So do I, Mr. Pelch,” muttered Ferrett.

  “If there were only some way we could warn them,” cried Pelch in an agony of frustration.

  Ferrett seemed to be barely holding his tears in check.

  “How many saw blades did we buy, Mr. Pelch?” he asked.

  “Fifteen, Mr. Ferrett.”

  “And how many do we have left?”

  “Twelve.”

  Ferrett sighed. “I wish we could see some progress, Mr. Pelch,” he breathed.