The Bride Series (Omnibus Edition)

by Bittner, Rosanne

  This was Josh’s first day back on a horse. Although his ribs were still bound and badly bruised, he was able to function as long as no pressure was put on them. His hands worked well enough to handle the reins, and Marybeth knew he had been anxious to get back in a saddle. He seemed to be most comfortable and look most natural on a horse, and she watched him ride up to someone who looked like an officer. She went on with the others, making camp with Delores on the north side of the grounds, where Cap ordered the wagons to circle. Soldiers and buildings stretched between the wagon camp and the Indian tipis, a deliberate move by Cap to help ease any tension and keep them well separated from the unpredictable Indians.

  Several minutes later Josh rode up to the Svensson wagon, smiling as he dismounted. Marybeth wondered if he was really more handsome than she had seen him yet, or if he just seemed that way because tomorrow he would become her husband.

  “I’ve seen the cabin,” he told her, walking up to her and kissing her cheek. “They went all out cleaning it up. And one of the soldiers went to get one of the priests. They’re camped among the Indians. One of them will be by soon to meet us. Get cleaned up and I’ll walk you to the commissary and supply store. I want to stock up on ammunition. We’ll buy some supplies to set up our own wagon, and you can look for a new dress. I want you to buy the prettiest dress there. There are wives living here at the fort, so there should be some women’s clothes at the supply store. What time do you think we should announce we’ll be married tomorrow?”

  “Oh, Josh, you are going so fast! I cannot think.”

  “Too late for thinking. Time for doing. I say two o’clock. What do you say? That way we can celebrate all afternoon and share our happiness with everyone else.”

  She smiled nervously, loving him for telling her earlier that they would wait one day after arriving at the fort before being married. He knew she was nervous, sensed her sudden apprehension. He grasped her small face between his hands. “Tomorrow night we’ll do only what you want to do. We’ll even just go to sleep if you want—enjoy lying in each other’s arms and waking up that way.”

  She held his eyes. “I would not do that to you on your wedding night.”

  “What? Lie in my arms? You won’t do that?”

  She smiled. “Josh Rivers, you know what I mean.”

  He smiled warmly. “I just want you to understand that I’m not the animal I suspect Dan MacKinder was,” he said softly. He kissed her forehead. “Come on. Let’s get cleaned up and get ready to meet the priest.” He put a reassuring arm around her, and Marybeth said a secret prayer of thanks that she had found a man she could love totally, a man of whom she would never have to be afraid.

  “It is a fine young lad you have here,” Father O’Grady told Marybeth. He handed Danny to Josh, and Marybeth smiled proudly, overjoyed at not only finding a priest, but to discover that he was Irish. “And it’s a father he’ll certainly be needing.”

  They sat on barrels near an Indian camp on the outskirts of the fort.

  “You—don’t think it’s wrong then, that I marry again so soon,” Marybeth asked the man.

  Father O’Grady frowned, rubbing at his chin. “You have already explained the kind of husband Dan MacKinder was. Only God can be the judge of your feelings for the man, but if I, a human, can understand, surely God can be even more understanding. When I look at you and Joshua, see the look in your eyes, I know that you truly love each other. And in this land, a woman with a child should not be alone. I will tell you the truth. I have seen women marry out here with their husbands barely cold in their graves, Marybeth. It is common. People cannot live by what is necessarily proper, in this land. They must think about survival. If, at the same time, their hearts are true, as are yours and Josh’s, they are all the more blessed.”

  Marybeth took Josh’s hand. “I married once out of necessity, Father. I vowed I would never do so again. I love Joshua, and he loves me.”

  The priest eyed Josh. He liked what he saw, liked the honesty in his eyes. They had told him why Josh was still bruised, and he felt sorry for Josh and Marybeth both. “Marybeth is Irish and Catholic,” he told Josh. “I know from experience how some people feel about that. I think perhaps to a man like yourself, being Irish means nothing. You are a man who judges a person for what is on the inside. But what about the religion, Joshua? How will young Danny be raised?”

  Joshua shrugged. “If Marybeth wants him to be raised a Catholic, that’s fine with me.”

  The priest arched his eyebrows. “Ah, but it is best if both parents practice and understand the religion. Would you be willing to convert?”

  Josh smiled, feeling a little unsure. “I don’t know what I’d convert from. I believe in God, if that’s what you mean. I have a brother-in-law who is part Indian and who, I expect feels a lot like these Indians around here about his God. God is a lot of things to a lot of different men.”

  “And what is He to you, Joshua?”

  Josh took off his hat and ran a hand through his hair, balancing Danny on his knee. “Well, God is God. I mean, my ma, she raised us up on the Bible. We never had any formal churching, but I’ve done my share of praying a time or two, usually when a snake was looking hungrily at my ankle or an Indian had me in the sight of his arrow.”

  The priest laughed. “And did you feel God’s presence?”

  “I reckon so. I’m sitting here talking to you, aren’t I? There hasn’t been a rattler or an Indian got me yet. Not even John MacKinder could best me, so I suppose somebody heard my prayers.”

  Father O’Grady chuckled again, shaking his head. He folded his hands, looking at Marybeth and Danny before meeting Josh’s eyes once more. “Would you be willing to take the Catholic religion, son? It takes a few weeks of lessons. There is no time to do it now, but might I have your promise you will do so when you reach Oregon?”

  Josh looked at Marybeth, squeezing her hand. “Why not?” He looked at the priest. “A little religion sure can’t hurt a body, now, can it?”

  The priest reached out and touched his arm. “It’s good for the soul, my son. And it will be good for Danny. As long as you agree to convert, I will gladly marry you and Marybeth.”

  “Oh, thank you, Father O’Grady,” Marybeth spoke up.

  The man leaned back, folding his arms. “It always warms my heart to see two young people in love. You are both strong and determined. You will need that where you are going. I can see that little Danny is already getting attached to his new father. That is a good sign.”

  It seemed strange to Marybeth to be talking with a Catholic priest in what seemed the middle of nowhere, in this land called America, with soldiers and half-naked Indians milling around them. She could not quite get over the variety of people and places and nationalities of this land—from the civilization of New York City, to the empty plains. Joshua was purely American, from a strange place called Texas, which sounded different from anything she had seen yet, but still it was a part of America.

  The priest rose and put his hands on Josh and Marybeth’s shoulders. “God bless and be with you both,” he told them. “When I perform the ceremony, I will annoint you both with Holy Water. Marybeth, if you would like Confession, I have a tent set up for such things.”

  “Yes, I—I would like that.” She looked at Joshua. “Do you mind?”

  “Of course not.” He looked at Father O’Grady. “I understand more about your religion than you think, Father. I’m from Texas, you know. Lots of people of Spanish descent there—lots of missions. There was one not far from where I lived. I remember going there sometimes just because it was cool inside, and because it was so peaceful. I felt closer to God there, even though I didn’t understand the religion.”

  Father O’Grady nodded. “Then you will have no trouble taking Marybeth’s religion for your own,” he answered.

  Marybeth and Joshua both rose, and Joshua put out his hand, shaking the priest’s hand firmly, holding Danny in his left arm. “I’ll wait here for Marybeth,” h
e said then.

  Father O’Grady smiled at Marybeth. “Never be ashamed of loving this man, Marybeth, in spite of what anyone else thinks, especially the MacKinders. If you follow your heart, God will bless you for it. Come, I will take your confession and give you Communion.”

  Marybeth took her Rosary beads from her pocket, turning to look at Joshua. “Thank you, Josh. I’ll be back in a little while.”

  “I’ll be right here.”

  Her eyes teared. “I know. That’s what I love about you.” She turned and followed the priest, her heart warmed by the thought of Communion, by the Father’s Irish accent; most of all by Josh’s willingness to convert for her and Danny’s sake. Yes, he would be there when she returned. Surely he would always be there for her.

  The day passed quickly. After visiting with the priest, Josh and Marybeth went inside the fort and bought supplies. Marybeth found a soft pink dress with a bodice that was cut in a scalloped design and revealed just enough of her full breasts to bring out all her womanly beauty. The fitted waist accented her own small waist, and when she looked at it in the mirror in a back room of the supply store, she was surprised at the happy face that looked back at her. Yes, she felt beautiful, more beautiful than Dan had ever made her feel. She bought pink combs to match the dress, which she would use to pull back her auburn hair at the sides. Her shoes were badly worn, and Josh insisted she buy new ones—a good pair for her wedding, and a sturdier pair for walking. He bought clothes for Danny and food and other supplies, and Marybeth bought a nightgown that she would not let him see.

  “Josh, you’ll run out of money before we get to Oregon,” she fussed.

  “Don’t worry about that. I’ve never had much to spend my money on up to now, and I saved a long time for this trip; figured I might get married after I got there and would need money. I sure never figured I’d get married before I got there.”

  Her eyes saddened. “I am so sorry I cannot present you with a dowry. In Ireland it is the custom. I am embarrassed.”

  Josh lit a thin cigar and grinned. “Well, you’re not in Ireland, so don’t worry about it. Besides, you do have a dowry. You’ve got Danny, and he’s worth more than a few coins and property. And your own beauty is your dowry. Just getting you is treasure enough.”

  She smiled softly, and they left the store, so loaded up they needed Delores and Aaron to help carry their supplies. “Now, don’t you think I had a good idea saying we’d wait a day?” Josh asked her. “We could never have done all this and got married, too, and we still have the wagons to rearrange.”

  They slowed as they noticed the MacKinders coming toward them. Marybeth’s heart pounded wildly at the sight of John MacKinder back on his feet. He walked using a thick branch for a cane, grasping it with his left hand. His right arm still hung in a sling. His face was mottled green and purple, and at the moment he glared at Josh with more hatred than Marybeth had ever seen in any man’s eyes.

  “Afternoon, folks,” Josh spoke up jovially. “Good to see you up and around, John. I guess a MacKinder man can still get up and hold his head proudly, even after landing flat on his back for the first time.”

  Josh and Aaron both grinned at the remark, but it was obvious John saw no humor in it. He turned dark eyes to Marybeth, and Josh felt a silent rage at the thought of how the man’s brother must have once treated her. “Is it true you are marrying this man, Marybeth?” John asked in a low growl.

  Marybeth stiffened. “Yes. We will marry tomorrow.”

  “Two o’clock,” Josh spoke up, obvious sarcasm in his voice. “You folks planning on coming?”

  Marybeth didn’t know whether to laugh, or faint from fear for him at his brashness.

  “This is not over, Rivers,” John told him.

  “It is for me. If you want to go on stewing about it, go ahead. Hell, you’re a handsome man, MacKinder. You ought to be able to find yourself some other woman. Of course, considering your temper and bad attitude toward them, maybe it won’t be so easy. Women out here are tougher and smarter than you think, MacKinder.” He looked down at Marybeth. “Let’s go. I’m not too fond of the company.” He walked past John, and Marybeth followed, pulling the wagon. Ella stared longingly at Danny, who grinned at her. John watched Josh with smouldering eyes.

  Once several yards were between them, everyone breathed a sigh of relief, and Aaron laughed. “You were pushing it back there, Josh. You remember you’re in no condition to get into another fight.”

  Josh shrugged. “Neither is John MacKinder.”

  “Oh, Josh, you had me so nervous,” Marybeth told him.

  “He isn’t going to try anything. And after tomorrow, it will be too late.” The words sounded wonderful. After tomorrow…After tomorrow her name would no longer be MacKinder.

  Chapter Seventeen

  It was as fine a wedding as Marybeth could have imagined, even in a more civilized place. Everyone from the wagon train gathered, and so did most of the soldiers from the fort. A few women were among them, and one military wife baked a cake. Another offered the bedroom of the quarters she shared with her husband for Marybeth to use to bathe and get dressed, and the women from the wagon train gathered wildflowers for a bouquet.

  Marybeth walked between two columns of soldiers, Aaron on her arm, leading her to the priest where Josh stood beside him waiting. Raymond Cornwall played a lovely tune on the fiddle, and most of the men from the wagon train stayed at the back of the crowd, keeping an eye out for any movement from the MacKinder wagon, ready to put a stop to anything John or Mac might do to disrupt the wedding.

  In spite of his lingering bruises, Marybeth had never seen Josh look more handsome. He wore a dark suit and a white shirt with a ruffled front, and a black string tie. His dark eyes watched her with near worship, his thick, sandy hair blowing in loose wisps about his face. She kept her eyes on his, trusting his promises, thanking God for bringing her such a wonderful man.

  Josh had never known such beauty as what he saw coming toward him in soft pink. He had had his share of women, but never had one excited him like Marybeth MacKinder. Never had one kept him awake nights, disturbing his thoughts painfully; never had he felt he could not go on without one of them.

  They stood together through a long ceremony, much of which Josh did not understand. The priest spoke in a strange language at times. Finally he was placing the plain gold wedding band on her hand. Josh had bought it just the day before, wishing there was more of a choice. He promised himself he would some day get her a really beautiful ring, but to Marybeth there could be nothing more beautiful than the little gold ring that said she now belonged to Joshua Rivers, and he to her. He kissed her lightly, gently, then embraced her while everyone else cheered and threw rice that the fort commander had provided.

  Marybeth clung to Josh, crying, and he gave her a light squeeze. “Come on, Mrs. Rivers, we have a cake to cut and some celebrating to do.”

  Danny was passed around from one person to the next, enjoying all the attention, while the musicians in the group struck up some lively music and the dancing began. The air was full of the smell of a side of beef roasting over an open pit, and Indians began to mingle with the crowd, enjoying the white man’s celebration. Men broke open the whiskey, and someone handed a bottle to Josh, who laughed and took a swallow.

  “Josh, no!” Marybeth spoke up, grabbing his arm as he started to raise it again.

  He frowned and bent close to her, kissing her ear. “This is the happiest day of my life, Marybeth. Now I’m not a drinker, but an occasion like this calls for a slug or two.”

  “Please don’t,” she begged him, looking up at him with a mixture of fear and pleading in her eyes. He understood when he remembered how much the MacKinders drank, how drunk and abusive Dan MacKinder probably was on his wedding night. He smiled softly and set the bottle down.

  “Marybeth, I’ve only been truly drunk a couple of times in my life, and even then I just get happier, not mean.” He kissed her cheek. “But I won’t drink
any more.”

  He turned and handed the bottle to someone else, and Marybeth was astonished he had quit just because she asked him to. A MacKinder man would have slapped her silly for daring to object to anything, especially if it involved his right to drink.

  Josh pulled her out into the middle of the parade ground, where emigrants, soldiers and Indians formed a circle to watch the newlyweds dance. Soon others joined in, but Marybeth was aware only of Josh. “Thank you,” she told him, holding his eyes.

  “Actually, I just didn’t want my senses dulled by the whiskey,” he said, grinning.

  Marybeth felt a powerful surge of desire rush through her at the remark. “I don’t want your senses dulled either.” Their eyes were riveted by desire. “I love you, Josh, and I do trust you.” How wonderful it felt having his strong arms around her, knowing she was his now to do with as he pleased, yet knowing he would not abuse that privilege. He leaned down and kissed her, and people clapped and whistled, bringing them out of their own spell to realize everyone was watching. Others made teasing remarks, and Josh kept a constant arm around her as though to tell her not to pay any attention.

  They danced for hours, with each other, with others. The beef was sliced and served, and the wedding cake was cut. The men of the fort presented them with money they had collected. “You’ll need it to set up house when you reach Oregon,” the commander told them. Marybeth was touched, again overwhelmed at how good and kind people could be.

  Danny started crying from hunger, and pieces of soft cake would not do. Josh took him in his arms and walked with him and Marybeth to the little cabin they would use, located on the east side of the parade grounds. People remarked and whistled about the two going to their “honeymoon cottage.”