by Rita Hestand
"Yeah, it wasn't easy talking her into it though, let me tell you. She's so afraid she owes me. I told her to consider it a wedding present, then that made her feel bad because she couldn't give me anything."
"Ain't nothing wrong with being poor. You know I've known a few women like her before. They work hard and have such good hearts. But the only thing that really astonished me about them was that they were happier than some of the richest women I ever knew. She's like that, it seems. She laughs a lot."
"She can cry too."
"Uh-oh, what happened."
Lance shook his head, "It's not what you're thinking. I stopped and picked her some flowers and when I gave them to her, she cried. Said no one gave her flowers before. I couldn't imagine it. I mean she's such a beauty not to have had many callers and opportunities to marry."
He told him about her Pa picking the city flowers once and George laughed.
"What kind of folks did she have?"
"All I know is her mother died when she was still young, and her father was a drunk. But as she calls it, he was a happy drunk."
George chuckled, "A happy drunk? Hadn't heard that in a while."
"That's what she said. Said he wasn't a mean drunk, he was usually very happy, he just couldn't turn lose of the bottle. Obviously from the way she talked he was well liked in town."
"Well, however they were, they brought her up right."
"I agree. The one thing that bothers me is that she is always bringing up Priscilla, said she didn't want to forget that Priscilla was supposed to be my wife."
"What are you gonna do about that?"
Lance sighed. "I wanted to give Priscilla the opportunity to explain, to apologize and to come out here. I've realized one thing very clearly. I don't know her at all. And long-distance relationships don't work very well. Now, if she does come, she'll be mad about Trudy and I being married, that's for sure."
"It's hard to fall in love with someone you only know on paper, son. When Marty and Joe suggested a mail order wife for you I just wasn't at all sure it would work. You don't get the same feeling. Trudy is real, and easy to get to know. Priscilla is nothing but what is on paper, you don't even know if that is true."
Lance shook his head, "Maybe. But I did propose to her. I guess I owe her an explanation."
"You don't know how you feel about her, do you?"
"Nope. I thought I did. But I was wrong. I let everyone crowd me into proposing. Still, I owe her some consideration, since I did propose. I wouldn't intentionally hurt her."
"I understand you are being a gentleman, but you might as well face it, you are going to have to decide which lady you want, you know."
"I've decided, but it's just telling the other one that holds me back. I didn't set out to hurt anyone. I've found out that things don't always work out the way you plan it either."
"Yeah, that's how love works sometimes. Well, it's your life, Lance, and you gotta work it out your way. Of course, it would be a lot easier if you weren't a gentleman."
"Goodnight George, and thanks for the advice."
"Anytime boss."
Lance went to find Trudy out on the porch steps. "I wondered where you got to."
"Rusty helped me with the dishes and I got through pretty quickly." She told him.
"It was a good supper." He told her, coming to sit beside her on the porch. "Your dress looks pretty."
"Thank you. I like the colors in it. Kind of makes me happy looking at it." She bowed her head and reflected a moment. "When you work all the time, pretty dresses aren't important. You buy dull clothes because they are more practical than the beautiful ones, and they don't show dirt as easily. They hold up to hard work." She glanced at him again, her heart swelling as she stared at his profile. "I still don't know how to thank you for all of this. You know, my husband bought them for me." She laughed.
When you forget what to say, laugh!
Maybe she was daft, but she knew her Pa was still with her.
He smiled.
"Rusty is a nice little fella. He's pretty young, isn't he?"
"Yeah, he's been here about three years. He didn't want to go to school, so his dad kicked him out of the house and told him to go to work. So, he came to me for a job."
"He told me he had three sisters at home that constantly ribbed him about his girlfriend, and he was glad to be here."
"Debbie Taylor, yeah she's a local, he went to school with her for a while. She's the preacher's daughter."
"He's pretty serious about her, he said he's saved about five hundred dollars and he's going to keep saving until he has enough to buy a small spread and give her the home she deserves. You gotta like someone like that. He's not sitting idle and feeling sorry for himself. He's doing something about himself. I admire him for that, and to be so young, too."
"Well, maybe next year, I'll give him some acreage to build on."
"Why next year?" she asked curiously.
"I guess because he's young, he needs time to make sure, and he needs time to really get to know her. If they are still going together then, I'll give him the land. He's a good worker."
"You'd give away what your grandfather worked so hard for?" she asked.
He smiled at her now, "I'm not one of those big-time ranchers who has to have all the land in the valley. I consider myself rich enough. And I like having good people living around me too. I share my water rights with my neighbors, and they share some of their crops with us. It's a good way to live, Trudy. It makes you feel good when you get up in the mornings."
"It's hard for me to imagine anyone having enough that they don't want more and being able to give away something as valuable as land. It's such a grand gesture. Are you always so generous?"
"With people I care for, yes."
That took her by surprise.
"I got that from my grandfather, he gave away a lot of land when he was older. He wanted my father and I to have enough, but he taught us not to be greedy. When a man has enough, he should know it. I always remembered him saying that." After a short silence he glanced at her. "What was your mother like Trudy."
She sighed heavily, then smiled in remembrance. "She was a happy woman. My dad saw to that, when he wasn't telling her some funny story, he was lovin' on her. She'd act like it bothered her, but she'd smile so contentedly. Even though somehow, I knew she hated scrubbing floors, she always told me funny stories while doing it. I'd go with her on her jobs as a child, and she'd tell some whopping funny stories and we'd laugh together. She made things that were difficult fun. She taught me to be happy, as I was. She said just because you do things you don't like to do; don't mean you can't have some fun doing them. She also loved my father. Believe it or not, at one time he was a sailor on the sea. Anyway, he'd be gone for months and when he came home my mother would make him the biggest cakes and carry them down to the dock so he could share them with his mates. They'd dance with no music sometimes, and they loved each other truly. I might have been poor, but I was a happy poor." She smiled. "They taught me that life doesn't have to be bad unless you make it that way. You can complain about anything, but it won't change a thing."
"Sometimes money has little to do with who you are, it's what's inside you. Sounds like she had a gift for making good out of bad situations."
"That's it exactly. My father became that way for me after she passed on. Even as hurt as he was losing her, he'd always try to cheer me up. Do things special for me. We'd sing silly sailor songs. We'd dance together with no music."
"Was your mother Irish too?"
"Yes, they both came from the old country as babes and they grew up in New York. They had hard times then, the people didn't like the Irish back then. So, my father gave up the sea and moved us to St. Louis, hoping it would be a better place."
"Was it?"
"Some, I suppose."
"I guess giving up the sea must have been very hard for him?" He looked at her.
"It was, and it wasn't. My mother was right the
re with him all the way. They made the best of it. Even though it was a hard thing. My Mom knew and understood how he felt about the sea. She told me men that loved the sea were a different breed. She did everything to keep his spirits up. The sea was like another wife to him. Sometimes he'd get this far off look in his eye, and I knew he was missing it. He never stopped. But he didn't complain."
"Did he work there in St. Louis?"
"Yes, he worked for a cabinet maker. He was pretty good at it, but the sea was his third love."
"Third?"
"After Mom and me."
He smiled.
"I can't imagine how hard it was for him, I couldn't give up ranching, I don’t think."
"He gave it up for her. It was hard on my Mom, him being gone so much. Takin' the insults that people threw at her, the way she was treated. If she hadn't had a sense of humor, I think she'd have died sooner."
"I can't imagine all the hardships they must have gone through. One thing I don't understand, why Irish people?"
"It started in England, a long time ago. The Irish, the Scots and the English warred all the time. The English won. Many Irish were imprisoned, then later sold as slaves. Then even later some were forced to mingle with the black slaves. Soon it became a new breed altogether. My father told a tale handed down to him by his father from his grandfather that on one ship, there were so many slaves, they tossed them overboard so they could feed the crew. There were at least a thousand of them on that ship, crammed together like sardines, my father said."
"I can't imagine such a thing," Lance shook his head.
With a tear in her eyes she told him. "Hardships in time make life easier. It teaches you humility and to appreciate what you do have."
"How?" he asked incredulously.
"Once you been through them and you move on, it becomes easier for you. You learn a lot too."
"And what happened with your father then?"
"Well, when he went to sea, he was in his element, he loved it. When we moved to St. Louis, his work was not important to him. But after my Mom died, he'd sit around telling me stories of the sea. How one of his mates caught the biggest fish they'd all ever seen. How he helped on a whalin' boat a time or two. He was a storyteller, when he talked you could almost see the men he was talking about. He'd tell me about men who'd been shanghaied onto the whalin' boats and how they did their best to escape them. Some didn't make it either. During Halloween he'd gather all the kids in the neighborhood together and scare the pants off us with his tales."
Lance chuckled, "He must have been quite a character."
"He was. But all the kids loved him, and their parents too. But later inside he had lost two of his loves, my mother, and the sea. It was hard on him, and he turned to drinking. He never got mean though. Never got in fights. He was a jolly drunk, and the people that knew him understood him. Just like I did."
"I guess it was hard to give up the sea, for him at least. A man's work is very important to him."
"Very much so. I agree."
"And you? How did you fare during all of this?"
"A child doesn't see it all until they are grown. It was merely tales to me until I was old enough to understand what he was telling me. He was telling me about his life, about his love."
Lance stared.
"When my father got to drinking too heavy, he was fired from his job. So, to keep a roof over our head, I went to work. Not that my father was pleased about it, but he couldn't work and drink like he did. He tried a time or two, but he just couldn't. My Mom had showed me how to clean a floor on my hands and knees and I worked hard at trying to be good at it. She'd told me no matter what I did, be good at it. Take pride in your work. The only thanks I got for it was the pleasure of knowing I did a good job and my Pa took over the cooking for me."
"Good at it?"
"My mother taught me that anything worth doin' was worth doin' right. The Mayor hired me, and I had plenty of work. I guess it kept me healthy though. I hardly ever got sick.
"The Mayor, he could never have enough land or power. He owned seven properties in town and two ranches one in St. Louis and one in Kentucky. He raced horses in Kentucky.
"The secret to happiness isn't how much you have, but that what you have satisfies you and you can take care of it. The one thing I wonder about you, do you want children?"
He chuckled, "Well, it took me this long to figure out I needed a wife. If I wait that long for children, it will be too late."
"Are you an only child?"
"Yes. My mother had a hard time having me, and the doctor said she couldn't have any more."
"That's sad, did she want more?"
"She wanted to give my father more, but he wouldn't risk it with her. He loved her too much to take a chance on losing her in childbirth."
"What did she look like?"
"Come here, I'll show you."
He took her into his bedroom and showed her his mother's picture. She glanced around the room quickly, not wanting to seem too curious. Being in his bedroom was no ploy for her and she didn't want him thinking in that direction.
She took the picture in her hand, held it to the lamp light and smiled. "You have her smile and hair. And your father?"
He handed her a picture of them together then. "Oh, he was handsome too."
"You think I’m handsome?" he grinned.
"You know you are." She grinned at him.
"You look a little like him, only different color of hair. How long ago did she die?"
"I was fourteen."
"And him?"
"He died five years ago." He put the picture up and she started walking toward the door.
She turned and looked at him, "You said they laughed a lot."
"Yes, they were very happy together."
"Did they have a long courtship?"
He laughed his eyes twinkled as he thought about it. "Hardly. He met her and married her in two weeks."
Her eyes widened, "Two weeks."
"Hey, we didn't know each other at all!"
"Well, yes of course, but that was just a mistake."
"We're just as married." He reminded her.
She swallowed hard. She didn't want to have this discussion in his bedroom. She licked her lips. "I guess we are, but I can't consider us really married until Priscilla either comes here and you settle this, or you get an annulment."
"Do you want an annulment?"
She turned away, "That's entirely up to you? You can't seriously marry one woman and be in love with another. It isn't right." She whirled around to see him standing over her. "We never consummated the marriage; doesn't that allow for an annulment?"
"I don't know. We came really close to doing just that. You've got an edge over Priscilla. You've seen me naked."
She almost laughed, but she saw something in his eyes that scared and thrilled her, desire.
She had to remind herself that Priscilla was between them. Consummating their marriage would only complicate things.
"If I hadn't drank that champagne, I would never have let it go that far… "
"It's nothing to be ashamed of, we were married, in a church, by a preacher no less. You said, 'I do' and you weren't drinking then. Can you tell me now, why you married me?"
She stared at him with surprise. "I wasn't expecting you."
"What do you mean."
She grabbed the bedpost and leaned on it with her hands behind her back. "What happened at the train station was like some exciting dream. Something you never expect to happen. It didn't feel real. I was sure I'd wake up any minute." She cried as a tear escaped down her cheek. "There you were, pulling me off the train, and into your arms and kissing me like—like you meant it. Then you dragged me to the church and set me in front of the preacher. There was such a crowd, it was hot, and I was in a state shock. And then… you nudged me and told me to repeat after you. So, I did. At that point, I was almost afraid not to. What shocked me even more, was when I found out who you were."
/> "You had no idea?" he looked shocked by this news.
"Of course, I didn't. I had no idea what you looked like. It wasn't like we exchanged pictures or something. I was applying as a cook, not a bride. I had no idea who you were. To me you were simply a handsome stranger, who swept me off my feet. Then I looked down at myself and realized that the dress caused it all. You were expecting a bride, and I looked like one. I didn't even realize when I bought it that it looked like a wedding dress. I just thought it so beautiful. It was like a piece of candy?"
"How's that." He smirked.
"You know, something you see in a store window that takes your eye, and you can't live without it suddenly."
She looked up at him, "I realize how pathetically stupid I sound. I'm sorry. But then you kissed me at the church, again! And the people, there were so many of them. they were all gathering around us and were so happy for us. When I stood there realizing what I'd done, I was afraid to even look at you again. I didn't know how to face all those people or you! The room started spinning and I fainted. And I have to tell you, I'm very glad I did, as I didn't know what to do next."
"Have you ever asked yourself why you said, 'I do'?"
"Many times, but I'm still searching for an answer. My stupidity has caused you a lot of strain and stress. It seems as though a quick annulment would settle it for you."
"And what would it do for you?" he whispered softly.
"It isn't important what happens to me. Our getting married was my fault. I should have done like you suggested, thrown a fit, made a scene? But I've never been good at throwing tantrums unless I'm galled into it with anger. And there were all those people standing there, and so happy for us. And it would have been terribly embarrassing for you, if I had thrown a fit."
"You were worried about me being embarrassed?" He asked.
"Well, when you aren't yourself, nothing you do seems right, they were your friends, not mine."
His eyes glittered like diamonds through the pale light in the room.