by Cassie Hayes
They lined up along the slim makeshift platform and straightened their coats and hats. Each man wanted to look as tidy as possible for his bride. Marshall turned away and huffed into his hand, making sure his breath was fresh too. He wasn’t sure if kissing a woman he’d never met at their wedding was expected, or even appropriate, but he didn’t want to take any chances. If Marshall Bowman prided himself on anything, it was being prepared for every possible outcome in any situation.
The train screeched to a stop in front of the tiny shelter that served as White Fox’s station. As a handful of bags were unloaded, the Mounties watched movement inside one of the passenger cars. It had to be the women, it just had to be.
Finally, a stout older woman poked her head out from the car’s doorway and looked in the wrong direction. She turned toward them so quickly the large feather sticking out of her hat waggled back and forth merrily.
“There you are!” she cried, as if they were standing in the wrong spot.
She easily disembarked from the train, waving away the hand of the conductor who’d reached out to help her. Glancing over her shoulder, she shouted, “This way, ladies!”
Three lovely young women followed her. First a brunette, who Miss Hazel introduced as Madelyn, Bert’s girl. Then followed Ida, a pretty Indian woman with a daughter, who was promised to Andrew. Calliope, a pretty blonde, would be Peter’s bride.
Which left Marshall. Alone.
He tried to keep his emotions in check, but very little in this world would be more humiliating than to be the only one whose bride didn’t show up. Or worse — she took one look at him and stayed on the train.
Grinning from ear to ear, Miss Hazel stepped in front of him and glanced over her shoulder briefly. She did a double-take, then spun in a circle, obviously searching for his missing bride.
“Where the…” she muttered, then cupped her hands around her mouth to amplify her already loud voice. “Colleen Hennessy! Where did you get to, young lady?”
A startled “Oh!” came from inside the car, then a blur of blue darted down the steps and ran up to them. Marshall barely had time to focus before getting drawn into the sparkling depths of her green eyes. Her wide, guileless smile lit them up like lanterns, and also brought the softest tinge of pink high on her cheeks. Chestnut curls framed her face and draped across the fetch blue shawl wrapped around her narrow shoulders.
“I’m so sorry,” laughed the most beautiful woman Marshall had ever seen. “I stopped to say goodbye to someone on the train and, well, we just got caught up! I’m Colleen Hennessy. You must be Marshall Bowman.”
Marshall had read about people being ‘struck dumb’ before, but he’d always assumed it was just a literary device of mediocre writers. He wasn’t much for chit-chat, but never in his life had he found himself at a loss for words.
Until he met his wife.
The strangest sensation overcame him, almost as if he was being sucked out of his own body, while at the same time his vision tightened until barely a pinprick of light and color and warmth shown through. At its center was the face he’d never tire of staring at.
“I think you’ve taken his breath away, my dear,” said a voice he recognized as Miss Hazel’s, but it sounded as if it was coming from very far away.
There was laughter too, but it barely registered. He only came to his senses fully when he found himself wrapped in the tight embrace of his bride-to-be. And he’d never felt more at home.
2
Colleen felt awful about making Marshall wait for so long because she’d been so caught up with visiting with those folks on the train. As she’d introduced herself, he’d looked so forlorn that the sudden urge to comfort him had overcome her.
But the moment she threw herself into his big, strong arms, she knew she was a goner. Having little — okay, no — experience with men, the only ones she’d ever hugged had been her father and brothers. None of them had made her feel the way she did in Marshall’s arms — the way it should be, of course, but it took her off-guard. She could have stayed there, swaying from side to side, enveloped in his warmth and scent, all day.
“That’s about enough of that,” Miss Hazel scolded, tsking at them for the public display.
Colleen didn’t care. She’d barely had a glimpse of her future husband before flinging herself at him, but she could already tell that theirs would be a happy union. So what if he’d stiffened a little at first. It hadn’t taken long for him to hold on tight!
Laughing loudly — probably too loudly, her mother would have said — Colleen pulled free from Marshall’s embrace and grinned at his dazed expression. She felt exactly the same way. He stood a full head taller than her, and his startling blue eyes contrasted his black hair in a most becoming way. His chiseled features were accentuated by cheekbones set so high up they should have been illegal. No doubt about it, he was the most handsome man she’d ever seen. And he was all hers!
Looping her arm through his, she took the lead in following the others to the church, half-dragging him along. “I can’t believe I got so lucky to get the most handsome Mountie in the world!”
He blinked and appeared to be rather confused, which just endeared him to her even more. The poor chap didn’t know what hit him.
Miss Hazel chortled as she waddled along ahead of them. “Well, the other ladies might have something to say about that.”
“Indeed I do!” exclaimed Madelyn. “I’m pretty sure I won that contest.”
Madelyn’s fella — Gilbert, who was father to three-year-old twin girls they had yet to meet — puffed his chest out and cast a humorously pompous eye back at the other men. “I agree wholeheartedly,” he said.
Andrew scoffed, then peered down at Ida. “Are you just going to let them talk to me like that?”
Sensible Ida just raised a dubious eyebrow at him, but her adorable five-year-old daughter, Lily, chimed right in.
“No! He’s the most handsome one!”
Andrew winked at Lily, who was clutching the toy bear he’d greeted her with. “At least I got one of them. The other will come around soon enough.”
Peter, the Commander, glanced down at sweet Callie, who looked positively overwhelmed. The poor dear had been abandoned at the Ottawa train station at the same time Miss Hazel’s gaggle of brides had been getting ready to board. At the last second, one of their numbers — a skittish young thing named Barbara — had changed her mind and fled, leaving Hazel in quite a pickle…until she’d found Callie crying on the platform and recruited her to take Barbara’s place.
As quickly as things had changed for Callie, she seemed up for the challenge. Smiling shyly up at her future husband, she said, “I think this is the first time I’ve ever won any contest.”
“Well, it seems as if we’re all thrilled with our matches,” Colleen said. “Miss Hazel, you did it again!”
Miss Hazel strutted a bit like a peacock. “Of course, I did. Did you ever doubt me?”
“Not once.”
And it was true. As soon as she’d read Marshall’s succinct letter requesting a bride, Colleen knew he was the man for her. He wanted a woman who took her duties as a bride seriously, and there was no one more serious than Colleen. Well, not serious serious, but…serious. Besides, she couldn’t help suspecting that, despite the practical tone of his letter, he was truly a romantic at heart.
Colleen did her best to walk slowly when what she really wanted to do was run and skip all the way to the church. Her mother had always claimed the girl had ants in her pants, but Colleen preferred to think of herself as excitable. Part of what excited her about marrying Marshall was ridding herself of the rather cruel nickname her mother had recently saddled her with: Old Maid.
“Do you suppose every generation thinks the new one is doing it all wrong?”
Marshall glanced down at her. “Huh?”
“It’s just that my mother considered me to be an old maid at my age. It’s true I used to work at the Ottawa Grand as a maid, but can twenty
-six really be called ‘old’? Maybe to our parents’ generation, who all seem to hate change and progress. But as some ancient philosopher or another said, the only constant is change.”
Marshall’s was to blink.
“I tried to tell her that young women were becoming more and more empowered and independent every day,” she continued. “Why, any day now we’ll get the right to vote, mark my words. Of course, she thinks all of that is a sin against God. Is that what you think, Marshall?”
He blinked at her again. “Huh?”
“Oh, I suppose it’s only natural for parents to want their children to follow in their footsteps, but I always wonder if their parents complained about them the same way. Of course, Mam would never admit that to me, but I suspect if my grandmum were still alive, she’d tell it to me straight. Where do your parents live?”
“Huh? Oh! Um, my mother lives in Toronto.”
She waited for him to tell her about his father, but by then they were climbing the steps of the church. Now was the time for Colleen to bite on her lips again to keep herself from talking so much. She’d just have to remember to ask him about it later.
Marshall escorted her to a pew so they could watch the others marry. Colleen would have preferred to have gone first, but Madelyn and Gilbert entered the church before them. Besides, it only seemed fair they go last since Colleen had taken her sweet time getting off the train.
Finally — finally! — the grumpy pastor waved them forward. Colleen was acutely aware of Marshall’s hand on the middle of her back as they walked up the aisle, their friends smiling as they passed. That hand felt so comforting and soothing, as if the simple fact of its presence made her impervious to any and all harm. She hoped it was a practice he’d continue.
Beaming at the pastor, Colleen reached her hand out to shake his. He simply raised one bushy eyebrow and looked at her hand as if she might be infection with some terrible disease. If the ol’ grouch thought he was being intimidating, he should have met some of the priests and nuns she’d grown up with. He was a pussycat compared to them.
She laughed and shrugged, then turned to Marshall, grabbing up both of his hands in hers. Staring deeply into his clear blue eyes, Colleen refused to look away through the entire ceremony.
At first she only saw confusion in Marshall’s eyes, but as the pastor sped through his script, the emotion in his gaze changed. No one else probably noticed, but at one point something clicked between them. It felt almost physical, and it suffused her entire body with a warmth she’d never experienced before.
Marshall’s irresistible lips weren’t smiling, but his eyes certainly were. Colleen was used to smiling with her entire face, as her crow’s feet could attest, but Marshall was a different sort of man. She’d only just met him, yet she could already tell he wasn’t quick to let people into his heart. When he did, she had no doubt he was fiercely loyal.
A tear of pure happiness trickled down her cheek — her smiling cheek — and she squeezed his hands to tell him his heart was safe with her. She might have imagined it, but Colleen thought she felt him squeeze back.
“Do you, Marshall Bowman, take this woman…“ the pastor paused and scowled at her expectantly.
“Colleen Hennessy.”
The grump turned back to Marshall. “To be your lawfully wedded wife?”
“I do,” Marshall replied so quietly it sounded like a shout to her.
“Do you—“
“I do!” She couldn’t wait for him to finish. He probably would have forgotten her name anyway, just as she’d already forgotten his.
“In that case, I pronounce you husband and wife. Is that the last one?”
The pastor looked past them, ignoring the newlyweds completely. Marshall looked as confused as she felt, but obviously the pastor couldn’t wait to be finished with them. With a heavy sigh, Marshall started to lead her down the steps to meet up with the others.
“Excuse me,” Colleen said to the pastor, pulling Marshall back. “But didn’t you forget something?”
The pastor was already on his way down the steps. He stopped to glare up at her. “What are you talking about? You’re married. The ceremony is over.”
Before he could turn away, she reached out and grabbed the sleeve of his jacket. “No, it’s not over. You forgot the best part.”
The man looked down at her hand on his jacket, pointedly hinting she should release him, but she wasn’t about to be cheated out of a proper ceremony. Her mother would no doubt have a fit that it hadn’t been a Catholic service, but that part didn’t matter to Colleen. What mattered was that it was legal and holy — and that she got to kiss her new husband at the end.
The pastor sighed heavily before stomping back up the steps. In the most boring monotone she’d ever heard, he said, “You may kiss the bride.”
Before Marshall could so much as lean in, the pastor was halfway down the aisle. But again, that didn’t bother Colleen. Good riddance! Smiling up at her brand new husband, she let her eyes fall closed as she stood on her tippy toes, waiting.
It seemed she waited forever, her breath held. Waiting for married life to begin. Waiting to fall in love.
Big hands finally settled lightly on her waist. Heat from Marshall’s body heated her already flushed skin. His masculine scent — a heady mixture that reminded her of pine trees and hot buttered rum — filled her senses. And then soft lips pressed against hers.
It was only for a moment, barely a second, but it was the sweetest second of her life and she vowed to never forget it for as long as she lived.
* * *
“This might be the smallest town I’ve ever been to,” Colleen exclaimed as Marshall gave her a quick tour of White Fox. He’d never encountered anyone who was so enamored with the tiny town. “How many people live here?”
He opened his mouth to answer when she gasped and pointed down the street.
“Is that a buffalo?”
The giant creature lay a comfortable distance away in the shade of a pine tree, nestled right in the middle of big mud puddle the perfect size for his massive bulk. An intimidating set of horns curved out of the sides of his ponderous skull and up toward the sky. Mud flecked his beard. As they watched the beast take in his surroundings, he half-snorted, half-sneezed. Snot blew everywhere, which Marshall found disgusting but made Colleen giggle.
“That’s Chip.”
Colleen stopped in her tracks and gaped up at him. “The buffalo’s name is Chip? Buffalo Chip?”
Marshall chuckled and shrugged. “Don’t look at me. I didn’t name him. Everyone called him that long before I got here. And technically, he’s a bison, not a buffalo.”
Colleen looked thoughtful for a moment. “What’s the difference?”
“Blast if I know, but Mrs. Obregon is very insistent everyone call him a bison.”
She laughed and hugged his arm, causing a swell of emotion to surge into Marshall’s chest. He’d never been in love before, and he wondered if the strange sensation was its herald. As much as he’d deny it if anyone asked, deep down he rather hoped it was.
“I would have thought there would be more snow,” Colleen mused as they continued their tour.
“It’s spring in Manitoba,” he said as if that explained everything. “As the saying goes, if you don’t like the weather, wait five minutes.”
“I just loved that little church, although I must admit, the pastor seemed a little sour.”
Marshall wanted to tell her the man was a traveling pastor who only came to White Fox every now and then, and that the Mounties generally took turns delivering Sunday sermons. That’s what he would have said, but she didn’t seem to need him to hold a conversation.
“Of course, he pales in comparison to some of the priests and nuns I grew up with. Mother Superior, the one who told my sister Molly not to become a nun?”
She glanced up at him as if he was supposed to know what she was talking about, then continued on happily.
“Well, she was jus
t a wonderful woman. That reminds me, I have to send her a note, as well as one to my family and maybe one to Molly. My other sister Caitlyn too. Oh, maybe I’ll send one to stodgy ol’ Mr. Albury and grouchy Mrs. Hannigan!”
Her laughter made Marshall smile, even though he didn’t have a clue who all those people were. He did look forward to finding out though. Colleen’s energy and joy were infectious.
“Speaking of, where’s the post office? I brought stamps with me, but I have no idea where to post them. In Ottawa, you can’t walk two blocks without bumping into letter boxes, but I haven’t seen a single one here.”
He started to point down the street toward the small general store just on the other side of the train stop, but she switched topics yet again.
“You know what I didn’t bring with me though was stationery. I supposed I could make due with tablet paper. You have tablet paper, don’t you? Oh, but wouldn’t it be so wonderful to write them all on lovely, proper stationery?”
Her sweet, wistful tone made Marshall want to run to the store and buy up all the prettiest paper Mr. Shepard carried. He was about to suggest they go to the store straightaway when Colleen said something he wasn’t prepared for.
“Are we close to our home? I can’t wait to see it!”
Our home, she’d said. His and hers. Theirs. Such a strange concept, but one that seemed wholly right to him. “Just down the street.”
“Oh wonderful! I do so love the idea that we’ll be living in town. I’m so used to a big city, and I truly can’t wait to see more of this beautiful countryside, but I have to admit I was worried about having to live far away from my friends. Are our houses close to each other?”
“Y—“
“It doesn’t matter, really. Even if we were on opposite sides of town, it would only be a few minutes’ walk. I’m used to walking. Do you liked to walk? I think it’s wonderful exercise, don’t you? Ooh, is that the hotel Miss Hazel is staying at?”