by Prairie Song
Fresh tears glistened in her eyes. “That’s all I’ve known for so long now.” She wiped her face with her sleeve. “Trying to please her. Make her better. Keep her safe. That’s all I’ve known.”
Nodding, Caleb ached with her pain and the pain he had caused his own family.
“That day on the porch, you said you’d allowed past experience with women to cloud your judgment of me.” She moistened her lips. “A bad past experience with a woman, is that why you drank?”
“Susan and I were sweet on each other in school. From the time I was twelve, I wanted to marry her. I expected to. She was sixteen when I left to fight in the war. While I was gone, I learned she had married someone else.”
Anna sighed. “That explains your assumption that I had jilted Boney. Your defensive reaction.”
“Yes, but it didn’t excuse it. You aren’t Susan.” Caleb shifted his weight. “As it turned out, I was far from being ready to marry anyone. I was wallowing in self-pity when I met some other soldiers who hung around the public houses. They gave me some liquor, and it made me feel better. Soon I needed it to feel better.” He shook his head, remembering Anna’s recent loss. “I’m sorry. If this is too hard for you—”
“I want to know.”
“My parents begged me to stop. So did my sister. Even in the times I wanted to, I felt powerless. I pretended not to drink anymore and became an expert at covering my tracks.”
“You knew the signs. That’s how you knew my mother favored the drink.”
“Yes.” He hung his head then looked up at her. “My squad was at Centralia. Enemy soldiers rode up on us, surprised us, and killed all eight of my friends.”
Her breath caught. “You were the only one to survive? How?”
“I carried a bottle in my pack.” He looked down at the graveyard mud on his boots, willing himself to continue. “While the rest of them were eating, I took my liquid lunch to my sentry post.”
“Oh.” Her response came out as a groan.
“From my position, if I hadn’t been soused, I could’ve seen them coming … maybe done something to save Billy … any of them.”
Anna’s shoulders slumped and tears fell. No doubt tears for the other sisters who had lost their brothers. Tears for him. Tears for her mother. And tears for the daughter who had lost the mother she loved.
He pulled a dusty handkerchief from his pocket and handed it to her.
Dabbing her face, she looked at him. “I’m sorry. What a terrible thing to have to live with.”
“That’s why I’ve shared so many scripture verses about God’s grace. That’s also why I don’t touch liquor of any sort.”
“I’m so sorry you had to go through such a horrific experience.” She tucked strands of golden-brown hair behind her ear. “I’m thankful you were my mother’s friend. She liked you, you know.”
“She didn’t know the truth about me.”
“She knew enough to know you are a good man. She knew you saw her, befriended her, and tried to watch out for her.”
Caleb nodded. He had tried to watch out for her. Like Anna had. He enfolded Anna’s hands in his and looked into her eyes, bluer than the deepest lake he’d ever seen. “Never mind that your mother couldn’t do what you asked of her and quit drinking. She loved you, Anna. I love you. You captured my heart the day you stood on that porch in Saint Charles and asked if that was all there was to my apology.”
Anna drew in a deep breath. “The night I walked away from our dance, I said I couldn’t care for you.”
“I remember.”
“I lied. All I have been able to do is care for you. I love you too.”
Caleb raised her hands to his chin. “Anna, your resilience and grace in hardship inspired me to want to know God deeper, to embrace His grace so I could have a heart that was whole and free to love you.” He pressed her hands to his lips, kissing each one. “Forgive me. Love me.”
Nodding, Anna rose onto her tiptoes and gave him a light kiss on the lips. Her touch may have been tender, but the effects had him seeing forever in her eyes.
Friday evening, Anna sat alone in the wagon. Großvater had hung their hammocks outdoors. When he’d retired for the night, she’d come inside to brush out her hair and change into her nightclothes.
Instead, she leaned over a barrel, staring at Mutter’s brightly stenciled trunk. Hungry for a taste of her mother, Anna considered opening the tin latches and looking inside.
Mutter was dead. Not coming back. The trunk now belonged to her and Großvater, and it was doubtful he would care to meddle in Mutter’s private possessions.
Kneeling, Anna unlatched the lid and lifted it. The sweet scent of lavender sachets filled her nostrils, bringing the best of her childhood memories to mind. Snuggling with Mutter while she read. Making candles with Mutter. Watching her make potato salad.
The letter Mutter had addressed to Aunt Elva lay on top of a Soldier’s Cot quilt Mutter had made in the quilting circle before Dedrick died. Sighing, Anna took the envelope from the trunk and sank to the floor. She leaned toward the light from the candle lantern and unfolded the sheet of stationery.
The words on the page were written in perfect High German.
My Dearest Elva, Sister of my heart,
I regret that I have not written you in nearly two years.
My dear son, Dedrick, succumbed to death during this country’s dreadful war between its States.
A tear fell to the page.
Since that dreary day, time has marched to a beat that I cannot keep. Losing my son has left me lead-footed and weak in spirit and flesh. Out of step.
Another tear.
Your plans to join me in America, and my thoughts to return to Germany, have not come to pass. Now I fear I shall never again look upon your face or hear your voice.
Had Mutter simply given up on Elva coming to America, or did she know her time on earth was short? Was that why Mutter had been so concerned about Anna’s future and pressed her to find a husband? How could she have known? Her death was an accident. Was it possible God had somehow given Mutter that sense?
Elva, dear, you were always smarter, more comely, and stronger than I. My sweet Anna is now eighteen, bequeathed with all the good things I knew in you.
Anna set her hand to her heart, remembering Mutter calling her a saint. It wasn’t so much that Mutter believed Anna was a saint as much as she thought herself a sinner beyond saving. “Oh, Mutter. My poor mutter.”
Sister, my admittance pains me, but my failings are as numerous as the stars here on the prairie. I fear I have worn Vater to a nub and driven my daughter’s heart from mine.
Anna’s vision blurred. She swiped at the tears and forced herself to read to the end.
Be well, my dear sister.
With my deepest regard, I am,
Your loving sister, Wilma
Anna leaned against the trunk, letting the letter drift to the floorboard. Fresh tears flowed.
“Mutter. My dear mutter. Even when your bottle tried to convince me that I hated you, I still loved you. Oh, how I loved you.”
God, please tell her, because I waited too long to do so.
When Anna had spent her tears, she returned the letter to the trunk and peeked under the quilt. A lacy sleeve stuck out from a paper bundle. Carefully, as if unwrapping a swaddled newborn, she peeled back the covering and stared at the silk chiffon dress. The peach color reminded her of dawn’s first light. She brushed the lace collar with her finger. Beautiful. Something lay tucked just inside the collar. Her fingers trembling, Anna pulled the wedge of paper free and saw it was a note in Mutter’s handwriting.
For you, my dear Anna.
This lovely dress belonged to my own mutter. In it, she said her vows to your großvater. They knew nothing but love for each other.
May you wear it in joy on your wedding day, whenever that comes. With my undying love, Mutter
Mutter had saved the wedding dress for her? The letter and the dress were well-
creased. Probably written and folded years ago and tucked away. This was an act of the mutter she knew from her childhood, always planning for a better future for her and Dedrick.
A sweet surprise, after all these years. Anna held the dress to her bosom, enjoying the comforting embrace of Mutter’s love.
“Mutter, I know just the man I want to wear the dress for.”
She smiled, knowing Mutter would approve and add her blessing.
She already had.
45
Thursday, the first day of June, Anna’s steps quickened as the Company approached the rise just east of Fort Kearney. Although the wagons would arrive at the fort at midday, this wasn’t just a noon break. In honor of Garrett’s and Caroline’s exchange of wedding vows later that afternoon, the train had rushed to arrive earlier in the day and planned to stay over until Monday.
The past two weeks had been bittersweet. Bitter without Mutter at her side, but sweet with Caleb there for her at every turn. Earlier in the day, Caleb and Isaac had ridden ahead to prepare a camp spot. The last mile had her giddy with anticipation, and she couldn’t wait to see him again.
Großvater had no sooner pulled the wagon into line at the camp when Caleb sauntered toward them.
“I missed you,” Anna said.
Caleb grinned. “I missed you too.”
“So did I.” Großvater’s eyebrows arched with the monotone assertion, but his mouth tipped into a grin.
Caleb chuckled, then returned his attention to her. “Any chance you could be ready soon to go into town and find a preacher?”
Anna looked into Caleb’s eyes, which sparkled like gold dust today. “For Garrett and Caroline?”
He dropped to one knee. “Actually, I’ve been thinking.”
She nodded, unable to speak.
Taking her hands in his, he sent a warm shiver up her spine. “It seems a waste to go to town and busy a preacher for only one ceremony.”
She tilted her head as if in deep thought, then smiled at Caleb. “I’d have to agree.”
“Anna, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife? Today?”
“Yes! Gladly. Yes.”
Caleb leapt to his feet and lifted Anna into the air, spinning her around.
On their second turn, Großvater cleared his throat, drawing their attention. “Nobody asked, but I’d be proud to be a witness.”
Anna kissed Großvater on the cheek, then waved good-bye to both the men in her life and dashed to the wagon.
She had a special dress to change into.
Caroline accepted the tortoise-shell mirror from Anna and angled it to take better advantage of the diffused light shining through the white canvas of the tent cabin. Hattie stood behind her, tucking a last lock of red hair into a soft french twist.
“You really do have a way with hair, Hattie,” Caroline said. “And out on the prairie too.”
“I’m glad you like it.” Hattie stretched the ringlets she’d left dangling at Caroline’s neck.
Anna cleared her throat and turned in the caned chair. “I don’t think Garrett would mind if your hair hung straight in pigtails.”
Hattie gave a theatrical sigh. “The poor captain nearly ran headlong into a cottonwood tree earlier, so distracted was he by your beauty.”
“Oh?” Anna giggled. “I’m sorry I missed that.”
Smiling, Caroline studied Anna, from her softly plaited locks snuggled in a beaded snood to the lace hem on her chiffon dress. “One look at you and Caleb is liable to lose his footing entirely.”
“Caroline is right.” Hattie slid the hairbrush and pins into a sack. “You look beautiful, and your grandmother’s dress is sure to leave Caleb speechless.”
Anna giggled again. “Speechless would’ve been nice that first day on the road.”
Hattie chuckled. “Caleb certainly had the hair on the back of my neck standing on end with all that talk of Company policy. But, who knows, that protective passion might have been what made you fall for him.”
“One of many reasons I love him.” Anna’s face pinked. “But I still can’t believe I’m getting married today. And this time any jitters are due to excitement and anticipation, not to any uncertainty.”
“Married in a double wedding, no less.” Hattie looked at Caroline, her dreamy smile emphasizing her singsong tone. “It’s all so romantic.”
Caroline sighed, smoothing the lace at her neckline. It was romantic, making her a firm believer that God was a God of second chances and fresh starts. Quite the opposite of how she felt the day she first held the letter from the Department of War telling her of Phillip’s death.
Anna stood and ran her hand over her dress. “Mutter would be pleased.”
Caroline reached for Anna’s hand and squeezed it. “She would, and so proud of you.”
Her lips pressed together, Anna nodded.
“Pardon us.” Garrett’s voice came from outside the tent and froze them all in place. “Ladies?”
Anna and Hattie both looked at Caroline. She stood and drew in a breath. “Yes?”
“Me and Caleb pride ourselves on being patient men, but—”
“We’re ready.” Anna and Caroline spoke nearly in unison.
“That is indeed sweet music to my ears.” Caleb gripped one flap of the tent entrance and Garrett the other.
Caroline followed Anna outside and turned to face Garrett. Her dashing groom wore a black frock coat, a white shirt, and a string tie, but it was his slack jaw and wide hazel eyes that made her smile.
Garrett pulled the hat from his head and held it over his heart. “You’re just going to have to get used to me staring, ma’am, that’s all there is to it. I didn’t think it possible that you could become more beautiful, but today … stunning. I may not know—yet—who took Mrs. Zanzucchi’s teapot, Otto’s timepiece, or Dr. Le Beau’s pill case, but you are surely the one who stole my heart.”
Caroline raised her gloved hand and fanned herself, ready to rush headlong into her new life as Mrs. Garrett Cowlishaw.
Midafternoon, Anna and Caleb paraded into Fort Kearney with many of their friends. She sat sidesaddle in front of Caleb on his Tennessee Pacer. Caleb’s arm was wrapped around her waist, and her shoulders rested against his chest. Boney and Großvater framed them while Oliver, Hattie, Lorelei, Mary Alice, Maren, and Rutherford followed.
Anna didn’t know if Mutter had pictured her in the silk chiffon and lace dress atop a horse, but Anna felt no less the princess. Caroline rode Molasses and Garrett, his stallion, just ahead of them. Caroline’s shining red hair and green velvet dress flowing over Molasses’s croup made her look like royalty too. God had truly blessed them.
All of them.
As they approached the short boardwalk at the mercantile, Garrett waved at a couple of men sitting on a bench out front. “The parsonage?” he asked.
“That way, Mister. Only one church in town. You’ll see the steeple once you round the curve.”
Caleb nodded and smiled at Anna. “Much obliged.” He doffed his derby, then rested his chin on Anna’s shoulder. “You won’t be Miss Anna Goben for long.” His warm breath on her ear sent a shiver through her arms.
“Suits me just fine. Real fine.”
The party reached the end of the main street and turned the corner. About two blocks down stood a small building with a steeple. The hitching rail wasn’t long enough for tethering all of their horses and one mule, so Oliver and Boney took advantage of the fence.
Caleb and Großvater escorted Anna through the sanctuary doors. It was a modest room but well cared for. The pastor and his wife peeked out of the attached one-room parsonage.
Garrett stepped forward. “We’re hoping”—he looked at Caroline, then at Caleb and Anna—“there might be time on the preacher’s schedule to perform a couple of weddings.”
The door opened wider and the couple’s eyes did the same. The petite woman looked from Oliver to Mary Alice and everyone in between. “Biggest wedding party I’ve ever seen.”
<
br /> Anna giggled. “Just guests, ma’am.”
“Well, seein’ as how you’re all here and there ain’t no other church, I guess I’ll just have to clear my dance card for ya.” A smile graced the preacher’s round face before he disappeared into his quarters. His silver-haired wife shuffled out into the sanctuary.
After proper greetings and introductions, Mrs. Zimmerman dragged an intricately carved pulpit from a corner and set it in front of the window. She stepped back and tugged her skirt straight over her plump middle. “Now, then.” She began directing the crowd with both hands. “We’ll form two bride and groom groupings. Each bride will have a friend stand with her.” The pastor’s wife looked at Caleb and Garrett and sighed. “Our very handsome grooms will each need a supporter as well.”
Anna swallowed the giggle tickling her throat. Their director was right—Garrett and Caleb were both looking quite fine, Garrett in his frock coat and Caleb wearing a blue shirt under a gray waistcoat. Boney and Großvater both stood beside Caleb while Rutherford stepped up to Garrett’s side. Maren joined Caroline.
Hattie leaned toward Anna and squeezed her hand. “I love weddings.”
Anna nodded, especially fond of this one and the man who stood at her side, beaming a brown-eyed smile that sent shivers up her spine.
They had just taken their positions when Pastor Zimmerman emerged from the back dressed in a starched shirt, his face clean-shaven and his white hair slicked back. He made his way through the tightly packed room and stood before them with his Bible open, while his wife played “Sussex Waltz” by Mozart. The lively tune was a perfect match for the joy welling inside Anna.
When Mrs. Zimmerman reached the end of the tune, the pastor straightened his string tie. “Mr. Garrett Cowlishaw, it looks like we’ll begin with you and your bride.”
“Yes sir.” Garrett looked at Caroline. “I like the sound of that. My lovely bride.”
In a swirl of emotion and soft sighs, Garrett and Caroline exchanged their vows and kissed. Beaming smiles that rivaled the sun, they stepped aside, allowing room for Caleb and Anna to take their place.