“So we fought hand-to-hand.” He touched the scar. “Took the butt of a musket to the head.”
“I’m thankful to God you weren’t killed.”
“You know what a hard head I have.”
“No one’s invincible.”
A muscle ticked in his jaw. “No.”
“I’ll understand if you don’t want to talk about things like this.”
“I hadn’t until now,” he admitted.
“It’s difficult for me to talk about what happened, too.”
“Any time you want to, I’m here.”
She deliberately avoided thinking about the losses she’d suffered. She didn’t want to talk about them. Leah smoothed her skirt over her knees and plucked a blade of grass. It was reassuring to know there was someone who cared, but she didn’t want to open herself up to those memories. “I’m not used to generosity and kindness.”
“You deserve it.”
Leah shook her head. She would have to be cautious around this man. He had the means to reach inside her and draw out feelings she didn’t trust or want. She might want to confide in him, but making herself vulnerable would never be wise. Common sense and wisdom were her guides from here on out.
* * *
Saturday was as clear and bright as a bride could hope for on her wedding day. It looked as though the entire population of Cowboy Creek had turned out to witness the nuptials. Hannah had outdone herself on Leah’s dress. The two-piece cream silk design with a small bustle in the back and overlapping bodice in the front cleverly disguised her pregnancy. People would know soon enough, of course, but today she didn’t want them speculating or gossiping. Knife-pleated sashes, elbow-length ruffled sleeves and a deep ruffle at the hem made the gown elegant without being flamboyant.
Hannah and Pippa helped her dress and escorted her to the church in a rented buggy. Daniel was tall and dashing in a three-piece black suit, white shirt and tie. His presence was comforting and his broad smile allayed her last-minute concerns.
Reverend Taggart performed the ceremony with eloquence and a reading from the book of Ephesians.
Pippa, accompanied by Richard on the organ, sang “All Things Love Thee, So Do I” in her clear, lovely soprano voice, which brought gooseflesh to Leah’s arms. She kept her song sweet and understated, so as not to draw attention away from the couple.
“Fruit and flowers for thee.
Whilst the glorious stars above shine on thee like trusting love; When thou dost in slumbers lie, all things love thee so do I.”
When Reverend Taggart instructed Daniel to kiss the bride, her new husband did so preceded by an apologetic wink. It was their first kiss, in front of the entire town, and Leah expected it to be perfunctory and obligatory.
Instead, Daniel surprised her by taking her hand and looking deep into her eyes. Surely it was a show for the guests, but her heart leapt regardless. His easy smile reassured her. She could feel her own pulse in her temples, in the fingers he held. His were warm, and the touch created a powerful tension between them, an unexpected thrum of anticipation.
His smile faded, and his gaze fell to her lips. Leah caught her breath. He kissed her then, a mere touch of soft warm lips, an innocent and chaste gesture. But he seemed reluctant to pull away, squeezing her hand and giving her one long last look that held an unspoken promise, a promise beyond those they’d exchanged in their vows. Until death did they part, Daniel Gardner was her husband.
And while they’d been close in their youth, they barely knew each other as adults. She suspected there was a lot to learn. Her first marriage had turned out nothing like she’d anticipated. She could only pray and believe this practical union based on mutual benefits would be more suitable.
Her future—and that of her baby—was now in Daniel’s hands.
Chapter Eight
The joyous celebration was indicative of the forward-thinking climate of Cowboy Creek. The first wedding was cause for hope and even more plans, because at least one conversation Leah overheard was about scheduling the next bride train. Friends and town leaders offered warm congratulations.
Noah had attended the ceremony, and now he remained on the edge of the gathering on the expansive church lawn, talking to Will and Dora. Daniel led Leah to where the group stood. “Left your gift at your place,” Noah told Daniel.
“Thank you,” he replied.
“It’s cuttings and starts for a garden. Some vegetables. Mostly flowers.”
“That’s so thoughtful,” Leah said with a gentle smile. “Are they from your own garden?”
“A few. But I had most of them shipped. They arrived yesterday and they look in good condition. I set them alongside the house and watered them.”
“I can’t think of a better gift,” she told him honestly. “We can enjoy them for years to come.”
Noah nodded and turned his face away to study the backs of the buildings on Eden Street, and then glanced at the lot behind the church. “How’s that house of yours coming, Will? Looks like supplies have been delivered.”
Piles of brick indicated something would soon be constructed.
“Should only be a few more weeks,” Will replied.
“That’s a lot of bricks,” Leah observed.
“It will be a big house,” Daniel said. He glanced at his friend. “Greek Revival?”
Will nodded. “With four two-story columns on the front and a balcony above.”
“It sounds like a mansion,” Leah said.
“Or the governor’s house,” Dora said with a smug look at her fiancée. “Isn’t that right?”
“Possibly one day,” Will replied.
Leah hadn’t known about Will’s political ambitions, but knowing him, his goals made sense. Initially her late husband, Charles, had reminded her of Will, with his ease in all situations and his natural charm. Marriage to Charles had proven his charm was all on the surface, however. At first there had been a few social events, and Charles had displayed her on his arm like expensive jewelry. Later, as the war progressed, his assignments had taken them to crude outposts and forts, where gentlemen’s gatherings didn’t welcome ladies and there had been few other women. Perhaps he’d been disillusioned with her or with his army career, but in any case she had never been one of his priorities, and it hadn’t taken long until he’d become neglectful and dismissive.
Leah had no idea if her marriage to Daniel would follow the same pattern, so she didn’t hold any unrealistic expectations. However, she knew Daniel’s character. He was kind and honest. That was more than she could have hoped for and more than she’d known before.
She had much to be thankful for. This was a prosperous, thriving town, and she’d just married one of its respected leaders. As long as her baby was healthy and safe, she could handle anything else that came along.
* * *
Daniel was having second thoughts about the gift he’d purchased for Leah. A wedding gift should be personal. There was an uneasiness between them today. As much as he wished he could remedy it, he wasn’t even sure what had caused it. And now he worried that the gift he’d gotten her would make matters worse. Even though he’d put a lot of thought and effort into it, perhaps she would think his gift was inappropriate.
There were gaily decorated packages of all sizes stacked under the same enormous awning that protected the food and drinks from the sun. Aunt Mae settled the bride and groom on wooden folding chairs and instructed young fellows to carry gifts a couple at a time. There were tablecloths and candlesticks, parlor lamps and linens, trinket boxes and a coffee grinder.
It took two strapping boys to carry the crate Daniel had brought for her. Perhaps this hadn’t been the place. Maybe he should have left it at the house and given it to her later. It was too late now.
He had already pried off the top and e
xamined the contents to make sure they’d arrived in perfect condition, so now he removed the lid and gestured for her to move the straw packing aside.
She glanced at him. “From you?”
He nodded.
Her gaze moved over his face. “All right.”
She dug through the straw until she uncovered the plate he’d strategically left at the top and lifted it out. Her expression first showed curiosity and then dawning awareness as she looked at the pattern on the plate. In green and white, lilies of the valley formed a circle around the lip of the plate while the scalloped edges were intricately painted with gold.
“There are twelve of each size plate,” he told her. “Plus cups and bowls and accessories.”
Around them the bystanders murmured their appreciation.
Leah finally removed her gaze from the plate she cradled so carefully to search his face. Her expression was incredulous. “How—? You remembered these?”
“Yes.”
“It’s just like my mother’s china. She got it as a wedding gift. The dishes were in our house when it burned.”
Something he hadn’t known until now. Maybe this had been too much—too personal. Maybe there were overwhelmingly painful memories associated. “I didn’t know they were a wedding gift, but I remember eating from them on Sundays.”
“How did you find a set just like them?”
“I found a fellow in New York who deals in antiquities. They’re not terribly old, but he was able to trace the pattern from a drawing I sent him and located an entire set in Boston.”
“Daniel, this was an amazing effort. Sentimental and thoughtful.”
Her words dismissed his apprehension. “I was concerned you wouldn’t like them.” The thickness in his voice supported his words.
“Why would I not?” She opened her mouth to speak, but then closed it and her lower lip trembled. She pursed her mouth in a straight line to compose herself. Her lashes fell across her cheeks and cast a becoming shadow. When she looked up, her eyes were bright with unshed tears. “They will remind me of home.”
Just as he’d hoped.
She carefully returned the plate to the crate and leaned toward him. “Thank you.”
Their neighbors made appreciative sounds and comments, and Aunt Mae blew her nose into a hankie.
“Top that wedding gift for your bride, Will Canfield.” Richard Mosely spoke the challenge in fun, and Will shrugged good-naturedly. Dora gave Will an expectant smile and nudged his shoulder. He shook his head and grinned.
“I’m afraid my gift for you isn’t nearly as inspired,” Leah told her new husband.
“I’m sure I’ll love it.”
“It’s in my trunk.”
“I’ll see it later.”
Cake was served, and the hour grew late. Members of the congregation cleaned up, put away tables and chairs and took down the tent.
Daniel and Leah said their goodbyes and he ushered her into the rented buggy.
He was a man of many accomplishments, a man who executed a lot of plans and saw them through. While a lot depended on his preparation and organization, nothing had ever seemed as important as this. Each day he’d seen the house coming together as furniture, rugs and household necessities had been delivered. Each night he’d gone to bed with expectations about the wedding and their marriage. The past week or so had been hectic, culminating in today’s ceremony. It had happened. They were married. Leah was coming home with him.
“Are you feeling well?” he asked.
“Tired. It was a full day.”
“And an even fuller week,” he said as the horses drew them toward Lincoln Boulevard. “I guess I have a lot to learn about being a husband.”
“You accomplish everything you set your mind to,” she replied. “This will be no different.”
“I should think it will be very different. A wife isn’t a horse to train or a plot of land to build upon.” Her soft laughter pleased him. “Perhaps I shall concentrate on amusing you.”
She offered him a playful smile. “As I recall, you were always entertaining.”
“I admit I feel more like my old self now that you’re here.”
She was silent a moment. “I’ve been alone.”
“You’re not alone anymore, Leah. You never have to be alone again.”
Not wanting to dampen the lighthearted mood, she fortified her smile.
They reached the house, and Daniel reined in the horse. “Walter Frye will come get the buggy shortly. The ladies left us supper in the kitchen.” They entered the house. “Do you need any help?”
She glanced at her dress. “I’m going to change, and then I believe I will be hungry. There was so much excitement this afternoon, I barely ate anything.”
“I’ll make us plates and we can sit in the library. How does that sound?”
“Perfect.”
When Daniel saw her again, she’d loosened her shimmering gold hair and wore it in a braid down her back. Her simple blue cotton dress and satin house slippers looked comfortable. He’d set a side table with a casserole and a basket of sliced bread and cheese.
“You’ll spoil me,” she said, accepting the plate he handed her.
“Somehow I doubt that.”
He found her presence in the home he’d built startling and wonderful. “Do you remember being at our house in Mount Joy on a Sunday evening?” he asked. “Mother used to set out the remains of the noon meal with bread and cheese in my father’s study. They drank wine with the meal, of course.”
“I do remember,” she answered. “I always enjoyed your mother’s cooking, and the way she made everyone feel at home. My mother entertained more formally, and we always dressed for supper.”
“But when we were all together—Will’s parents, too—I never noticed the differences. Only how it felt like family.”
Leah rested her fingertips over her heart. “We can’t have those years back.”
“I’m glad we experienced those young and innocent years together.” His eyes revealed wistful sincerity. “I hope we enjoyed those times to the fullest while we were living in them. It’s a good reminder not to take days like this for granted.”
Leah set her plate aside. Her gaze lifted to his. “I want that for this child, Daniel. I want this child to feel safe and loved like we did. I want him to believe the future holds goodness and promise.”
Daniel set down his plate and moved to sit beside her on the divan. He took her hand. “I’ll do everything in my power to make that happen. He—or she—will be loved and cherished and have every opportunity within my power to give him.”
“I believe you,” she said with a nod. “What are the chances that I would travel all this way and find you? I have to believe God had a hand in leading me here, that He heard my prayers.”
“I believe that, too.”
“And I don’t want to let you down,” she admitted, a slight hitch in her voice.
“I’m not asking you for anything, Leah.”
“You should ask.”
He lifted a brow and leaned in a little closer. “What should I ask?”
“For my loyalty. My devotion.”
“I trust you to be loyal and devoted to the arrangement we made.”
Something flickered behind her eyes. Pain? Disappointment? “I shall be.”
He patted the back of her hand and released it. “Let’s not be melancholy this night. We have a lot to celebrate and be thankful for. We are the first couple to be married in Cowboy Creek.” He thought a moment. “I believe we should have a photograph. I’ll send for a photographer.”
“Do it quickly, before I outgrow my wedding dress.”
He looked at her with amusement and got up to pour a cup of coffee. “Yes, indeed. There’s wedding cake
in the kitchen. Would you like a slice?”
She deliberated on his offer for only seconds. “Perhaps for breakfast.”
He chuckled and inclined his head in acceptance. “If you outgrow the wedding dress we’ll have it altered. I’ll clean up. You rest.”
“If you don’t mind, I think I’ll go up and lie down.”
“Of course. I’ll bring you water. Do you have everything else you need in your room?”
“Yes, thank you. And thank you, Daniel, for the meal. I think an occasional supper in the library should be our first tradition. Sunday evenings, as your mother did in your father’s study.”
He appreciated the idea of them creating their own tradition. Leah seemed content and hopeful. “I’d like that, too.”
After dipping water and carrying it to her room, Daniel wished her a goodnight, returned to light another lamp and attempted to concentrate on a book. He’d done a sensible thing, marrying her. He’d done the only thing his conscience—and his heart—would allow him to do. He knew where she was and was assured she was safe. He was the best man to become her husband. Practical marriages had been around since Biblical times.
He remembered what she’d said when she’d accepted his proposal. She’d laid out the guidelines. Their marriage would be a practical union. He had no false expectations. For now their main concern was to look after her health and that of the baby. Once the child arrived, they could ease into a more intimate relationship. Eventually they would have more children. He liked the idea of filling this house with children. A family.
Perhaps he hadn’t been her first choice, but he could be her best choice—and her last. She might never love him, but he would do his best to make sure she never regretted marrying him.
* * *
Dressed for bed, Leah turned down the wick, but left the lamp burning on the bureau. She knew better than to waste oil, but this was another new room, and an unfamiliar house. She wasn’t prepared for the pitch black of night or the hours that stretched ahead. The new sheets were crisp and clean, but the night was cool and she needed the added warmth of the blanket, as well. She lay on her back and stared at the shadows on the ceiling.
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