A Bride For Finn (The Proxy Brides Book 5)

by Linda Ellen

  “A proxy marriage...and not even by a minister in a church?” Charise repeated, becoming more uncertain about it by the minute. “I...I just don’t know...” she lamented, her visions of wearing her wedding dress and getting married by Pastor Barkley disintegrating like a block of ice in the summer sun.

  Sam pressed his lips together and replaced his hat. Glancing around, he asked, “Ladies, would there be somewhere more...quiet...that we could go to discuss this? Believe me, my brother is quite anxious for you to become his bride, Miss Charise. It took me and the doc to hold him down, as he was determined to come himself, but...”

  Charise shook her head, snapping herself out of the fog his words had plunged her into and glanced at Beth as she answered, “Yes, Mr. Maynard—”

  “Sam, please.”

  “Yes, um...Sam. I had planned that Finn and I would spend the afternoon in the restaurant of the Hotel Victoria, which is just two blocks away. They have wonderful food there and I had thought perhaps Finn and I could spend our wedding night—” she stopped, her face turning a bit pink as Sam grinned at her meaning.

  “Hotel Victoria it is. Ladies,” he leaned down to grasp his valise, “Lead the way.”

  Charise turned to vacate the platform, leaning close to Beth and whispering, “Please say you’ll come with us to the hotel!”

  Beth’s eyes rounded for a moment, but then she gave an answering nod.

  Charise said over her shoulder to Sam as they negotiated through the doors to the large lobby of the depot, “We’ll walk, if that’s all right Mr...Sam. It’s not far.”

  Sam chuckled. “Walkin’ sounds fine, Miss Charise. I’ve been sittin’ for five days. Was startin’ to feel like I was becomin’ part of the wooden seats on those trains.”

  “Is Finn truly going to be all right?” Charise asked his brother over their wonderful lunch of mutton chops, mashed potatoes and gravy, cabbage, and mince pie for dessert.

  Once they had settled into their seats and ordered, Sam had begun to explain in detail how Finn’s accident had happened—prompting gasps and expressions of sympathy from both girls—and that Sam felt terribly guilty that his brother had been injured in his mill. Then he went on to tell what the doctor had said, and how upset Finn had been that he wouldn’t be able to make the trip himself—and his concern over the fact that he knew she had given up her job and her apartment in preparation for leaving town with him to start their marriage.

  “Oh sure,” he answered her question. “Doc Reeves says he’ll be fine as long as he takes it easy and stays off that leg. The main worry was the concussion, but there was a telegram waiting for me at the last stop which said he was over that, thank the Lord.”

  As they finished up their lunch, Sam answered every question either of the girls had, and volunteered information as well—except for why Finn was insisting that the marriage take place immediately rather than waiting for her to travel to Nebraska. On that point he was a bit vague, merely hinting that Finn was afraid that Charise would either bow out of the deal or have second thoughts.

  For a few moments, Charise found herself wondering if Finn actually existed, or if this could be a ploy to get her away and do her harm, although she felt no warning bells of threat or danger in Sam’s presence. Sam seemed to read those very things in her expression and hastened to reassure her that his brother suspected she might feel uneasy about the change in plans and he merely wanted to help her feel secure.

  Finally, pushing back his plate, Sam wiped his beard with a linen napkin and smiled at Charise across the table.

  “Well, Miss Charise? Will you have my brother in holy matrimony, by proxy?”

  Charise and Beth Ann met one another’s eyes for a silent discussion. Charise raised an eyebrow at her friend, hoping for some advice, but Beth Ann, eyes like saucers, could only shake her head and shrug. It was obvious that Beth didn’t want to stand in her way, nor take responsibility in case things went south. Truly, something like this was a big decision, and Charise knew she needed to trust her instincts. It was a concern that she wouldn’t even get to meet her groom before the marriage took place, but his brother had shared many stories about him to help ease her mind.

  Shutting her eyes, Charise said a quick, silent prayer for guidance, waited for several breaths, and as a feeling of peace began to fill her heart, she opened her eyes and smiled at her intended’s brother.

  “Yes, Sam. I accept your terms. I will become your brother’s proxy bride.”

  Sam let out a yelp and then clamped a hand over his mouth and hunched his shoulders as the girls laughed and diners nearby looked over and gave the trio odd looks.

  “Speaking for my brother,” Sam grinned, “I say thank you, ma’am. Now, what shall be our course of action?”

  It was decided that Sam would take a room at the Hotel Victoria to, in his words, scour the grime of six hundred miles of train travel off his person, and would meet the girls on the steps of the courthouse at two o’clock. As they would need another witness, Beth Ann had persuaded her long-time beau, Stanley Clabor, to act as Sam, or rather Finn’s, best man.

  Charise had to fight off the disappointment that her romantic plans for her wedding day had flown out the window faster than a bullet shot from a Kentucky long rifle. Her beautiful wedding dress that she’d spent dozens of hours making...her mother’s cameo...all of the customary traditions like something old, new, borrowed and blue...a bouquet...being married by the minister she had known all her life...a lovely cake and reception... All of that seemed kind of silly in the face of her saying vows with a stand-in for her actual groom—a groom she hasn’t even met face to face. It placated her a bit that Sam confessed to Finn’s fear that, if he’d asked her to wait, another man might come along and sweep her off her feet. So, though it may seem petulant, she chose to chuck all of it and just get married in the blue silk day dress.

  Perhaps Finn and I can have a real wedding, in church, in Nebraska... Well, she wouldn’t worry about that now, and would cross that bridge when she came to it. For now, she had to get on with the business of legally becoming Mrs. Phineas Maynard.

  Promptly at two o’clock, Sam stepped out of a two-wheeled hansom cab pulled by an old brown and gray nag, and started up the steps toward them as they waited on the landing at the top. Charise’s heart warmed as she observed he was wearing a nicer suit, and saw what he was clutching in one hand—a bouquet of flowers.

  When he reached them, a bit out of breath, Sam noticed the direction of her eyes and he handed the flowers to her with a small bow. “Finn made me promise to get you a bouquet from somewhere for you to carry for the ceremony—even if I had to pluck flowers out of somebody’s yard,” he laughed. “But luckily, I found a flower vendor on the sidewalk outside the hotel.”

  Pausing, he looked at the other couple, and inclined his head in greeting, then gently grasped Charise’s elbow as he guided her over several feet for a private talk.

  “Miss Charise, a couple of things...I’m gonna put a ring on your finger today, but it won’t be your real one. Finn is gonna give you our mother’s wedding ring, but he wants to be the one to put that on you hisself, so...don’t be disappointed in the ring. All right? And...” he hesitated for a few seconds before adding, “He wanted you to know that once I get you to Brownville, our friends are gonna throw a shindig for you both. In case I didn’t say it, he wanted you to know how sorry he is that he got hurt and messed up the plans. He said to tell you he promises to make it up to you if it takes the rest of your lives together.”

  Again, Charise warmed at the thoughtfulness of these brothers from Nebraska. If this was an example of their care and concern for her, she knew she was doing the right thing and putting herself into good hands. With an appreciative smile and nod, she said, “Thank you, Sam.” She slid her hand into the crook of his arm and added, “Shall we proceed, Mr. Maynard?”

  Sam gave her a smile that stretched from his twinkling blue eyes to his bushy brown beard as he said, “At your s
ervice, ma’am.”

  The next two hours went by quickly.

  They carried on a quiet conversation as they stood in line to apply for the marriage license, and had to tell the clerk twice that they needed a proxy marriage. The hapless young man had never done that before and wasn’t sure what was needed. Then, they waited until Judge Noah Perry, the official that would solemnize the marriage, finished with prior business.

  Finally, the four of them were standing in front of the judge’s tall, elaborately carved oak bench and looking up at him expectantly. He had taken out a white handkerchief and had set to cleaning his wire-rimmed glasses. His hair, the four noticed as they silently waited, had receded so far, he now only had curly, salt and pepper hair at the very back of his head, a full six-inch beard and a gray mustache, and his dark blue suit was covered by a black judge’s robe.

  He fitted his glasses around his ears and looked down at them as he ran his hand over his whiskers. “I’m Judge Noah Perry, and since this is only the second proxy marriage I have solemnized, I need to get the particulars straight. Now, Mister...” he paused as he picked up a file and read the paperwork Sam had provided, “Samuel Maynard. You are the groom’s brother, is that correct?”

  “Yes, your honor. My brother, Phineas, was injured back home in Nebraska. He got a bad concussion and broke his leg, and he asked me to stand in for him. It’s all there in the papers, signed by our town doctor and by Finn,” he added as he stepped forward. The judge spent a brief time reading and then speared Sam with a look over top of his glasses. “May I ask why Miss Willoughby didn’t just go to your brother and get married in Nebraska? Isn’t that what most mail-order-brides do?”

  Sam cleared his throat and sent an apologetic glance toward Charise that made her heart hitch nervously. What in the world is he going to say? Taking a step closer toward Judge Perry, he murmured, “Well, Judge...your honor, sir...it’s like this...” he paused and gave a small, uncomfortable shrug, reaching up to unconsciously tug at his collar. “My brother, well...he had sent for a mail-order-bride once before and...she took his money for the tickets, but went to another man, so...this time around, he wasn’t takin’ no chances,” he raised his eyebrows and met the judge’s eyes full on, man to man. Judge Perry gave a nod of understanding.

  “I see.” He finished looking over the paperwork and satisfied that all was in order, he turned his attention to Charise, offering her a kind smile.

  “Young lady, this situation—your groom’s brother standing in for him in a proxy marriage—is all right with you? As they say—speak now or forever hold your piece.”

  Charise fought back a feeling of uneasiness, but managed to answer, “Yes, your honor.”

  Having dreaded the idea of traveling to a far away state as a mail-order-bride, it had relieved her mind considerably when Finn had written her that he would travel to Louisville and they would be married before she had to leave her home and everything familiar. As Finn had neglected to tell her about his previous mail-order-bride and what she had done, Charise now felt several emotions sweep over her simultaneously—sympathy for him, but offense that he would harbor any thoughts that she, herself, might do such a thing. The deciding factor for her decision to go through with a proxy marriage had been that with a legal marriage license in her possession, she wouldn’t be traveling to a strange place with a man she didn’t really know and taking a chance that all was not as had been declared. Like any normal woman, her greatest fear was being stranded in a far away place as a single girl with no recourse or provision.

  “And these two are your witnesses?” the judge continued.

  “Yes, sir,” Beth Ann and Stanley replied in unison and then stated their full names.

  With a satisfied nod, he began the proceedings.

  “All right then. You two stand there facing one another,” he pointed to the space immediately in front of his bench, “and Mr. Maynard, take Miss Willoughby’s hands.” Sam did so. The judge cleared his throat and Charise felt herself start to tremble. Sam squeezed her hands and she met his eyes, his wink helping to alleviate a bit of the stress.

  “We are gathered here today in the presence of these witnesses to join in holy matrimony Miss Charise Willoughby and Mr. Phineas Maynard by proxy,” he began. Addressing Charise, he said, “Charise Olivia Willoughby, do you take the man, Phineas Oliver Maynard, to be your lawfully wedded husband, and with him to live together in holy matrimony pursuant to the laws of God and this state?”

  Charise gripped her bouquet and moistened suddenly dry lips when the judge mentioned that the marriage would be legal in God’s eyes. Lord, am I doing the right thing? If not...stop me! Make the ceiling fall in or something...

  Allowing several seconds for Divine intervention, she vowed silently, Well all right then, Lord. Here goes...

  She took a deep breath. “I do.”

  “Do you promise to love Phineas, comfort him, honor and obey him and keep him both in sickness and in health, and forsaking all others, keep yourself only unto him, so long as you both shall live?”

  “I do.”

  The judge nodded and addressed Sam. “Mr. Samuel Maynard. Acting on behalf of, and in full consent and understanding and duly signed permission from your brother, Phineas Maynard, do you take this woman to be his lawfully wedded wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish till death do you—or rather he—do part?”

  Without a second of hesitation, Sam answered with a strong, “I do.”

  “Is there a ring?”

  “Yes, your honor,” Sam said, quickly producing a plain gold band from his pocket and slipping it onto Charise’s outstretched, trembling finger as the judge led Sam in the vow of the ring.

  “Then by virtue of the authority vested in me by the state of Kentucky, I hereby pronounce you husband and wife. Mr. Maynard, you may, uh...kiss your brother’s bride,” he said with a chuckle.

  Charise’s eyes widened and her heart leaped into racing speed as Sam smiled kindly and leaned forward, only to veer off at the very last second to place a sweet, soft, warm, lips-surrounded-by-whiskers kiss to her cheek, just to the left of her lips. He whispered in her ear, “Finny told me he’d skin me alive if I kissed you before he got to,” he chuckled. She felt herself blush.

  At that instant, she had an inkling that she was going to have her hands full with the Maynard brothers...her two husbands.

  Chapter 4

  B rooding, Finn stood propped against the wall next to one of the second floor windows above his barbershop, steadied by a pair of rough-hewn crutches.

  Today was the day. Finally. It had been eleven long days since Finn had sent his brother to fetch...and marry...his fiancée.

  Ignoring the throbbing in his leg, caused by standing far too long and making the blasted thing swell, he stared anxiously down the wide expanse of hard-packed dirt known as Main Street toward the far edge of town where the railroad tracks crossed.

  “Eleven days?” he let out a snort of disgust. Seems like eleven years. Idly, he watched as people went about their business on the street below and thought back over what had, at times, felt like a prison sentence.

  At first, the doctor had made him stay in bed and rest until all evidence of his concussion had disappeared. Although he had griped and groused like an old bear, he had complied.

  The dizziness and headaches, especially those that came each time he needed to sit up and awkwardly make use of the chamber pot, blessedly stopped assailing him after several days.

  He’d always hated those things—chamber pots—preferring to make the trek outside to the outhouse even in inclement weather. But making use of it with one of his legs encased in a heavy, awkward cast just barely qualified as being within the realm of possibility. That indignity, combined with the humiliation of Elvira Davis volunteering to come by each day to empty the vile receptacle, see to his needs and bring him food, just about made him wa
nt to jump out a window. Then there was the inescapable torture of Elvira’s penchant to fill the air with mind-numbing small talk. She had managed to transform his normally peaceful home into a house of mental purgatory. Truly, he feared that if his enforced confinement lasted one more day, it would push him over the edge of his endurance.

  He shook his head and determinedly set his mind on something else.

  There had been daily visits from Toby, the young man who had caused the accident, begging Finn to forgive him. It seemed no matter what Finn said to him, the youngster was determined to beat himself over the head. Each day, he tried to a near harmfully persistent degree to assist Finn, either by helping him to stand, or carry things around, but it was as if the poor lad had two left feet and two left hands, as he was forever dropping or tripping about the room. Finn silently wondered why his brother had ever thought the mill a good choice in which young Toby could apprentice for a future profession.

  And if that wasn’t enough, he’d kept imagining all sorts of scenarios that could and might happen once Sam reached Louisville. Charise could tell him that she had changed her mind. She could be adamantly opposed to the idea of a proxy marriage, so much so that she washed her hands of the Maynard brothers completely. Matter of fact, Charise balking at the proxy idea was the very reason he hadn’t sent her a telegram broaching that subject ahead of time. He figured Sam would have more success asking her in person—his brother could be most persuasive when he chose.

  Alas, if he were honest, another recurring fear was that Charise, in reality, wasn’t anything like her picture, but more resembled a screeching fishwife. His thoughts then bounced to the inevitable worry that she was planning on using his money for some other reason.

  Once the days had gone by and Sam replied to the telegram Doc Reeves had sent to the Clarksville, Indiana station, things had smoothed out into just the frustration of waiting.