Lawfully Betrothed
Ginny Sterling
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Afterword
Coming Soon - Lawfully Chosen
Lawfully Admired
Lawfully Yours
Lawfully Freed
Lawfully Pursued by Lorana Hoopes
About the Author
1
March 1841
Bright Star, Texas
Six-year-old Faye Miller took off through the cool shadows of the early morning mists. She knew that if her mother caught her running around again, she’d be in trouble. She loved the discussions that were held privately for some of the parishioners and wished that the younger children got to hear the fanciful tales as well.
Today was no different. She’d overheard her mother discussing the story of Noah with her father. It was to be the focus of their meeting after service today. His tale seemed larger than life; majestic, humbling. To believe that you were selected for something more, something monumental, seemed amazing. It was through such dedication and drive, belief that it would all pay off in the end, that astounded her. Noah had blindly toiled away, even while mocked, in order to find his place and to serve.
She wanted to be selected, to be chosen.
Carefully, she lay down on her stomach on the mossy bank of the creek underneath the branches of the bushes. The sticks poked her, and the tips of her shoes were in the mud, but she didn’t care. This was the best spot, the closest spot, she could access without being seen. Last time they’d been discussing the angel Gabriel. Their version of the angel was terrifying. Wrathful, domineering, punishing as people failed to do God’s bidding. That wasn’t what she’d learned of him from their stories. She learned that perception was key to how things were received by others.
For her, Gabriel had loved the people and felt sadness, like a parent with a child. He wanted more from the people and felt he had to teach them. She’d dreamt of how inspiring it would be to be visited by an angel; a loving, nurturing, gentle angel that cared for her and motivated her to do more. Oh yes, she loved the story of Gabriel.
Staring ahead, she watched the people take their seats. Ladies, including her mother, tucked their skirts around them modestly as they sat on blankets under the trees. Pulling out their books, they began to smile and chat with each other in earnest. Today was the women’s group meeting. Her pa was across the clearing enjoying a pipe with a few other men. Faye heard a snap and whipped around, guiltily expecting punishment for not listening as directed. She was supposed to be with the other children in bible study.
“Shhh.”
A young boy edged up close to her under the bushes. His dark golden-brown hair and slate gray eyes had her mesmerized. She’d never seen anything of the sort before. He smiled, revealing a dimple in his right cheek as she stared at him.
“Are you hiding, little fairy?”
“Yes, but I’m no fairy. Do be quiet or they’ll spot us.”
“You look like a fairy to me,” he countered, his grin widening. “A beautiful muddy little fairy.”
Faye put her finger to her lips, indicating that he should be silent as the ladies began reading from their bibles. Faint, delicate, feminine voices carried in the morning breeze, setting her imagination wild. She could picture the massive ark and the animals lumbering by as they boarded. Sighing happily, she glanced over to see that the boy was staring at her with an unfathomable look on his face.
“You are magical,” he whispered in awe. “You remind me of some fairy princesses in the stories my Da tells us around the fire. What’s your name?”
“Faye. What’s yours?”
“Faye, just like the magical folk in my Da’s tales, the fae. I’m Gabriel.”
“Are you an angel?” she asked quietly, suddenly afraid that she’d truly been well and caught by someone from above. No one ever said how old Gabriel the Angel was in the stories. Could he have been a grey eyed, mischief making young boy?
“No, my Da would say quite the opposite,” he countered with a wry grin. “But you? Your name is quite fitting with all those inky curls around your face. How old are you Miss Faye?”
“I’m six. I’ll be seven soon. How old are you?”
“I’m eleven and old enough to know you are supposed to be with the others.”
“Are you going to tell on me?”
“No, Miss Faye. I won’t breathe a word. Why are you here and hiding?”
“My mother says that I’m too young to comprehend my actions and that I act childish. I think their fantastic stories that they weave are so much better than Pastor Smith’s tales. What about you?”
“I saw you climb under the bushes and was curious to know more.”
“Well now you know,” she countered as she saw her mother’s eyebrow suddenly raise in alarm. The woman had an uncanny ability to sniff out her escapades if she stayed away from the whiskey. Her mother had always hidden away her drinking from others, including her father, but for Faye? She was the recipient of her frustrations and anger. She blamed Faye for driving her to drink, making her feel incredibly guilty.
“You look frightened.”
“I am more concerned that your talking will get me caught.”
“Hiding for a moment’s peace and to dream away the world we know?”
She glanced at him startled. He seemed to be a kindred soul and understood exactly what was tumbling through her deepest shadows of her mind. It was wrong to be so wary, so frightened and feel so alone. She might be extremely young, but she felt so very old. This boy lying in the muck near her understood her like no other.
“Miss Faye, I know it seems quite silly to say so, but I think we were meant to meet,” he said suddenly, surprising her. Gabriel reached down and snapped off a long frond, splitting it, weaving it and knotting it. He smiled warmly at her, holding out his hand.
“Someday, I want to create a story for just us. One that makes you smile and crawl in the mud with happiness. I think us meeting today was destiny.” Faye’s eyes grew wide as she listened to his words, staring at him in surprise. Her chubby, childlike hand had mud under the fingernails from where she’d crawled up under the bushes. She put her hand in his and noticed that he also had debris underneath his nails. His young hands had done a significant amount of hard labor and was callused as any grown man.
Gabriel slipped the woven frond ring on her middle finger gallantly. “Miss Faye, will you be my fairy bride? We’ll make our own adventure together.” he asked with a happy, playful grin. His large grey eyes crinkled at the edges as he winked at her. Nodding eagerly, her curls bobbed around her face as she stared at the woven ring made of iris fronds from the water’s edge.
“I want to give you something too,” she said quickly, digging around in the pocket of her dress, her muddy hand emerging with a piece of quartz. She pressed it in his hand. “I found this heart shaped rock last week and it’s my favorite rock of all. See how shiny it is?”
“It’s perfect. Thank you.”
“Does this mean we are betrothed like real grown-ups?”
“Yes, I think so. You’ve my ring and I’ve your heart.”
“Then yes, I’ll marry you.”
Feeling a hand clamp down around her ankle, Faye’s eyes widened in alarm and suddenly matched Gabriel’s suddenly pallid expression as both were yanked from beneath the bushes together. Faye was held aloft by her father. Her eyes were almost at eye-level of her mother’s disapproving stare as she struggled to keep her blo
omers from showing. Glancing over at Gabriel, she flinched and began to cry as a large man began to strike him not far from where she was dangling in the air.
“You philander rapscallion! How dare you bring that child to ruination before her very parents? Don’t you realize that you represent the family?”
“Your young man was behaving most inappropriately!”
“Aye! As well as your daughter too – both should be kept away and hopefully this goes no farther than from us. I can’t have your slovenly daughter claiming a stake on my boy. He’s destined for better!”
Her mother swelled up and became red-faced as her temper was unleashed. “Your boy shouldn’t be manhandling young innocent girls who don’t know any better! If you ask me, that is a learned behavior. You should be ashamed of yourself and of how he has acted on your behalf.”
“I was just thinking the same thing,” Gabriel’s father drawled out, pointedly looking at her mother to her. “A learned behavior, I see.”
“Now see here!” Faye’s father stepped forward, seeing her mother prepare to take issue with his words. Words she didn’t understand then, the implication, but understood them now.
They had argued for several moments as her father put her on the ground indelicately. She watched as Gabriel stood their unwavering in the brunt of their anger. They’d believed that he’d led her astray, whereas she wholly believed that her path in life had just been revealed to her. She stared at his young stoic face and caught a sad smile, just before being yanked away by his father. He looked over his shoulder at her; those grey eyes would haunt her for many years to come. He mouthed the very words that touched her heart, burning into her soul:
I’ll return for you.
2
October 1861
“Now class,” Faye reminded them again as the twenty bright faces stared eagerly at her, her hand perched just above the bell at the corner of her desk that would release them for the day. “As a reminder- We were supposed to have a new student join us today. I am sincerely hoping she will be able to attend tomorrow. I would like to have her ensconced into our little story group and invite you all to come up with a word to be used tomorrow. The more challenging, the better. Class dismissed.”
Giving the bell a quick flick of the wrist, she watched happily as the whispering commenced between a few students. Story time had always been her favorite and she loved that she could pass that along to others without fear of reprimand or reprisal. Absently, she touched the tiny filigree chain that was hidden from sight. On it was a delicate, tiny cross that had been her mother’s as well as the braided frond she’d kept for the past twenty years.
When her mother had passed, she’d cried in such guilt and relief that the drunken tirades were finally over, or so she had thought. Her father had taken up the bottle, blaming her for putting her in an early grave. When he’d passed, she’d inherited everything including the blessing of freedom. The tiny orchard, the small cabin and its contents, as well as her mother’s necklace. It had made her quite the catch for several men wanting to marry, yet she had no interest in any. Instead, she took up the mantle as teacher in order to satisfy the hollowness she’d felt for so long.
Gabriel had disappeared that very day she remembered so well. She didn’t even know his last name, only those smiling grey eyes and the way he’d referred to her as a fairy princess. It was foolishness, she knew. In the very depth of her heart, she hoped and prayed she’d meet him again someday. She’d held onto the ring and slept with it every night, dreaming of her angel with the gray eyes. The one with the dirt under his fingernails, who accepted her for who she was and felt a kinship with.
“Miss Miller?” she heard a faint voice ring out, and glancing up, she stared at the young red-headed girl that entered. A mass of red curls danced on her shoulders as she stepped inside, closing the door behind her. “I am sorry that I’m late. I got lost along the way.”
“Are you Titania Reardon?”
“Yes ma’am.”
“Well, Titania, welcome to our class. Am I pronouncing it correctly? Titania, like the fairy queen from Shakespeare?” At her nod, Faye smiled. She’d once been called a fairy princess and thought the moniker was quite fitting for this young lady. Bouncing red hair, grey eyes and pale freckled skin made her look positively magical. If she’d grow iridescent wings it would seem quite fitting.
“We’ve just adjourned for the day, but you’ll have the opportunity to meet everyone tomorrow. Tonight, for homework, I want you to come up with a single word to use in a story the class develops together. Make it something intriguing as to keep inspiration flowing. We’ll use this as an intro for your welcoming since you’ve got quite the namesake to live up to. We shall start bright and early at eight in the morning. Don’t be late,” she coached with a warm smile at the girl’s frightened face. “Story day is my favorite of all and I hope you enjoy it as well.”
“Yes ma’am.”
Faye watched the young girl head out, shaking her head. That was some name! Her parents were either quite educated or quite fanciful. Perhaps she’d have a chance to meet them on Sunday at the service. Cleaning the room, she wiped down the desks and filled the lamps. The classroom was just off the wing of the church and was quite often used for other events when class was not in session.
She’d bring another scuttle of coal tomorrow and fetch a clean pail of water in the morning. There was no sense in doing so tonight since it was a long walk and the coal had a tendency to disappear. She never said a word simply because if warmth was needed, she wanted to provide. There were several pieces still in the bin and it would hold over for the night if needed. It was the least she could do as part of her Christian duties, since when she needed something to fill her days- she was given the chance to teach others.
As she was finishing up, she noticed that the day was slipping away from her as the sun was beginning its decent in the sky. Great streaks of orange and copper made her heart burst with contentment as she admired His work. As she was getting ready to step out, she heard a noise behind her and slowly glanced over her shoulder. One of her students had returned, but instead of being at his desk… He was near the coal bin. Her culprit had been spotted red-handed and froze guiltily. Not saying a word, she whistled a slight tune and pulled the door closed behind her. If Jacob’s family needed the heat tonight, he was welcome to it. He’d lost his father a few years ago and brought his sisters in each day to class instead of having them work the farm with him. He only attended a day or two a week, just enough to struggle through his lessons.
Hurrying home, she found herself practically running the last few steps. Now that the days were getting shorter, she would have to quickly make her way home. There were so many rules that were required of teachers. Being out after dark could be construed as unseemly since she wasn’t escorted. There was no reason to chance it. The town had been good enough to give her a chance and she didn’t want them to have reason to regret it.
Shutting the door behind her, she put her teakettle on the fire and cut a slice of cornbread from the large iron skillet that was sitting on the table with a cloth draped along the top to keep it fresh. Looking around, she sighed contentedly. Her childhood home had not changed much except for a few modernizations. New lamps, a new pump for fresh water nearby and glass for the sash windows that had gotten broken over the years. The glass had been a tremendous expense but one that had made such a change. She remembered the yelling and arguing that resulted in something being thrown through the window panes. She’d always felt she was in the way, an annoyance. Now, she just longed for a sense of purpose. Teaching helped, but she felt like she was always on the precipice…waiting for something.
Pouring her hot water into a chipped, delicate porcelain cup her mother had once told her was from England, she dreamed and imagined a full set on a glamourous table instead of the single lovely teacup. She had nothing that was simply hers. Everything had memories tagged to it, some good and some bad. Dipping the teaba
g, she watched the infusion seep into the water and dreamed of belonging somewhere that felt like she was wanted. A chance to make memories.
Early the next morning, Faye awoke with a sense of anticipation. Today was her favorite day of the week. Not only did it finish out the week, giving her a bit of time to herself, but they would finish out the day with laughter and applause. Story day always went off the rails ending the school week on a silly note. It had been like this for the last several years and was almost an expectation of the class. Walking on her way in, she saw that her newest student was walking along the same lane not far from her house. At the end of her walkway, she waited for her with a smile. Perhaps she would like to walk into town together? As she approached, she saw that the young girl had been crying.
“Good morning, Titania. How are you?”
“Fine,” the young girl whispered with a massive sigh that shook her frame. Faye almost smiled at the drama evoked from her, but the telltale wobble to her lower lip gave the indication that it wasn’t an act. She was truly upset.
“Is everything okay?”
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Are you nervous about today? Everyone will love you.”
“No.”
“Then what is wrong? You don’t seem very happy this morning.”
“Nothing.”
“If you don’t want to talk, I understand. But if you ever want to, I will be happy to listen.” Her red curls bobbed as she nodded her head abruptly in acknowledgement. They walked together the remainder of the way into town. Faye filled the silence with stories of how she became a teacher and why she enjoyed it.
She then found herself talking about that day so long ago. About her ‘angel’ with the grey eyes that made her feel special so long ago. She’d wondered what had happened to him long ago and made the mistake of asking the wrong person: her mother. She’d raged about her daughter’s lack of morals in chasing a young man. “Not even a grown lady and she is tramping around behind bushes like a soiled dove!” she’d railed at her before cuffing her across the face.
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