by Amelia Rose
After seeing Nathaniel on his way, leading his fine new team of horses to his cabin, Pryor finally had a moment to appreciate the return of his sweet wife. He pressed his nose to her hair and inhaled the scent of her, one that had haunted him in every corner of his home while she was away.
“You can’t leave me like that again, promise me,” he begged hoarsely. “It was so empty here without you.”
“Oh, Pry, but you knew I was coming home! I’m sorry you were lonely, but you should naw ever worry that I won’t return. And besides, it is I who missed you all the more. My brother invited me to Brennan for his wedding in May, and I could naw do it. The very thought of taking a ship across the ocean and leaving this farm for so long made my heart crumble, even more than the thought of not being by his side to see him married. I can naw say that I’ll never travel again, but I promise I’ll never be gone from you for too long, and I won’t be going away anytime soon, that I can vow!”
He held her face carefully between his hands, barely brushing her soft skin with his fingertips to keep the callouses on his cracked hands from coming in contact with her delicate features. She read his intent all too well, and, instead, pressed her hands against his, holding his hands close to her skin. He kissed her lightly as she rested against his chest, content to be back where she belonged in the world.
***
The town of New Hope had never before seen a celebration like a wedding planned by Moira MacAteer. It was not enough to simply have the clerk oversee the signing of the papers. There had to be prayers and blessings offered over the couple, music to celebrate by, and food the likes of which the residents had not eaten in a long time. It was a celebration long overdue, not just for the happiness of a man and wife, but in the shedding off of the bleak winter and the welcoming of a late spring filled with hope.
“I’ll be glad enough when this wedding is behind us,” Moira said to Pryor one night as they fell into bed, exhausted from the last of the planting. Much of their crop for the year had been sown in by Pryor and Nathaniel while she was gone to New York, both men working together to put in the crops for their respective farms. Now all that was to be done was the large garden beside their barn, the plot that would provide their food in the coming year.
“I agree, and no one is more glad than Nathaniel. He’s petrified with fear, you know. You’d think, with these two months gone, he’d have had time to adjust to the notion of getting married without quaking so much in his boots.”
“How’s that? What’s there to be afraid of from a wife who barely comes to his shoulder?” she teased softly. Pryor laughed in the darkness.
“No, not the ceremony. The feast afterward. He’s never been one to spend too much time in town, he likes to keep to himself and pass the time with those he knows best. Katia, and now her family, and us, of course. Although if Kieran doesn’t stop coming around, I’m going to have to put him to work!”
“Oh, you jest, husband. Kieran is sweet on Gretchen, I know it, although to hear her talk, she still thinks of him as the boy who threw flour on her in the pantry when they were young. I can tell, though, it’s a woman’s intuition. Those two will be the next wedding we have to plan!”
“No! I can’t take it! There are to be no more weddings until after harvest time! Just let me have this summer to rest!” he answered, pleading with his wife through his laughter.
“I can naw make any promises! The heart wants what the heart wants, and I know that Kieran’s heart pines for Gretchen. You’ll see! Now that Nathaniel has finally finished the rooms in his cabin where Katia’s family will stay, he’s to be a married man with a family. I’ll have plenty of work to do planning Gretchen’s occasion with naught else to think of!”
Moira could not have known how right her prediction would be, nor how soon. The next morning, she was feeding chickens and gathering eggs when Gretchen came riding up on horseback, alone. Moira shielded her eyes from the sun and pushed back her bonnet to see better, but all she saw was Gretchen’s excited, smiling face.
“My, my, Gretchen, have you become a horse thief in your free time? Our sheriff may have something to say about that now,” Moira laughed, stroking the beautiful horse’s soft muzzle when Gretchen rode up. She slid both legs down the animal’s flank and jumped down, smiling back at Moira.
“I should say that he does, considering he’s the one as gave it to me!” she answered dodgingly, looking away and not meeting Moira’s eye.
“A horse?” Moira demanded, barely able to contain her surprise and her premonition at why he would do such a thing. “The sheriff of our fair town gave you a horse? Because… perhaps Mr. Jorgenson was all out of coffee to give you? Maybe there’s a shortage of fine cloth at the shop, so Kieran decided he should give you a horse as a token of his friendship?”
They stared each other down for a brief moment, neither woman letting on what was racing through her mind. Finally, Gretchen cracked, a gleeful expression brightening her face.
“It is a bride price, just like he would have given to my father, had we stayed back in Ireland!” Gretchen said, barely containing her glee at the sudden news.
“You can naw be serious!” Moira shouted, but with happiness instead of contempt. “I was just saying this very thing to Pryor last night! I knew he would ask you to be married! And a horse? What a kind gesture for him to remember that it is only fitting to come with horses when asking for a hand! When shall you wed, do you think?”
“Oh, I would naw think for at least a month or two, as Kieran will build us a small house closer to town. Mr. Jorgenson offered us the apartment above the store since he doesn’t like to climb the stairs anymore, but Kieran will naw hear of it. He has naw said so, but I’ve known him since we were little. He will naw marry me until he can build me a proper home, and that’s as ‘tis should be.” They nodded thoughtfully for a moment at the old traditions still kept despite the wildness of the new home, when suddenly Moira called out a revelation.
“No! I’ve a much better idea in mind. We’ll make this upcoming wedding a lavish affair, and both couples can marry and celebrate together!” Moira clapped her hands with excitement at the prospect of a double wedding but was crestfallen when Gretchen refused, shaking her head mournfully.
“Moira, we can naw. ‘Tis not right. I know this is the frontier and everyone’s a free man out here and all, but you have to remember Kieran and I were born into a life of service. Whether ‘tis America or Ireland or anywhere else, Mr. Russell is a land owner, and we are but servants. It would naw be our place to celebrate at such an important occasion as his wedding to Katia.” She hung her head for a moment and looked away. Their rambunctious happiness from only a moment ago was replaced by a silent awkwardness. Gretchen’s protest reminded Moira of the tenuous ground of what passed for friendship between them.
Moira squared her shoulders and lifted her head. “Gretchen O’Brien, all I have to say to that ‘tis nonsense! You are not a servant here, and neither is Kieran. He is an educated man, and I know this because ‘tis my brother who saw to his education. That means Kieran had the finest schooling there was to be had. But he is more than that, he is also now a government official, an extension of the United States Land Office! That is naw a servant, but a man of position and prestige who has a salary and land to build his own home. I’ll not hear any more of this servant talk out of you, either. You are a merchantwoman yourself, even if ‘tis only at Jorgenson’s shop. And I dare say, who do you think he’ll expect to replace him when he can naw run his business? Why, you are to be a businesswoman, married to a government official! You shall not talk to me any further about not staying in your place!”
She grabbed Gretchen and held her close, refusing to let go until she felt the tension melt out of the girl’s body. Gretchen finally stepped back, and Moira was heartbroken to see there were tears dampening her cheeks.
“I had naw seen it that way before. Thank you,” she muttered humbly, but Moira grabbed her hands and held them tightl
y.
“No, thank you, Gretchen. Thank you for years of dedication and service, but more than that, thank you forevermore for being my friend. It may have been an odd, unbalanced system of rich and poor that put us in each other’s lives, but the day your foot left Ireland because I asked you to come with me is the day you stopped being a servant. You and I were practically fugitives, and no mistress has the right to thrust a maid into the role of a runaway. I am heartily sorry if I’ve ne’er spoken up before, but you are my friend and only my friend! And that’s why I’m throwing your wedding, too!”
They both wiped at their tears through their laughter, causing such a stir that Pryor came around the side of the barn to see what had the chickens so agitated. He called out to see if everything was all right and blanched when Moira shouted, “I was right! Gretchen’s to be married, and we’re to help her celebrate!”
They giggled as his shoulders drooped and his head dropped to his chest, then screamed with laughter when he fell back against the side of the barn, seemingly in a faint from the news. He recovered himself and came to them, offering his congratulations to Gretchen and words of admiration for her horse.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Their wedding day dawned crisp and cool, but anyone with an eye for reading the weather could tell it would be gloriously warm by mid-morning. Gretchen and Katia awoke early to complete the chores at the small cabin, fixing breakfast and laughing merrily as they worked and dressed. Once the family was roused and dressed, Moira arrived to help them do up their hair and arrange their bouquets of flowers while Pryor and Matthew lingered outdoors in the shade, away from the womenfolk. Finally, both Kieran and Nathaniel arrived as if on cue, and the whole party began the loud, boisterous trek into New Hope for the ceremony.
Once both couples had signed their contracts and stated their vows, the true party began. Kieran had previously seen to the security of the town, and New Hope was a much more subdued place. There was still merriment and even a tavern, but the whole atmosphere was one of enjoyable recreation rather than lawless ruckus.
Tables were set up, made from doors removed from their hinges only that morning and laid across logs down the wide dirt main road through town. The makeshift tables were soon covered to capacity with the townsfolks’ finest recipes, and the musicians from the tavern set up in the shade offered by Jorgenson’s porch. Small plumes of dust were kicked up beneath dozens of pairs of dancing feet as the musicians played different styles from every immigrant region that had converged on New Hope.
“I know what you’ve done here,” Pryor whispered in Moira’s ear as they danced.
“And what is that, Mr. MacAteer?” she asked coyly.
“This party… it should have been for you on your own wedding day. I’m glad you finally have a celebration to attend since ours was such a small affair.” He looked somewhat forlorn, in a wistful kind of way.
“Pry, our wedding was perfect. I had my dearest and oldest friend there, and my brother had made the journey. But most importantly, I had you there. That ‘twere all I needed to make my wedding perfect. All of this?” she said, gesturing around the town and taking in the smiling faces of the townspeople. “All of this is wonderful, but it certainly doesn’t make a wedding—or a marriage, for that matter—perfect.”
Pryor kissed her, eliciting loud cheers from those dancing with their partners nearby. They laughed, and Moira caught the eyes of her friends both new and old. Katia and Gretchen were absolutely radiant where they danced with their husbands, and Moira’s heart swelled with joy for their happiness.
“So now we must change the sign,” she said, turning back to her husband. Pryor looked puzzled until she explained, “New Hope… the population. It’s growing by leaps and bounds, I say!”
He laughed but froze when he looked over her shoulder and saw the strangest sight. There beside the railroad tracks, almost as though using it as his guide, a lone man walked carrying a well-worn and patched bundle on his back. He favored one leg as he limped and looked all the worse for the wear of a long journey. Slowly, the townspeople turned one by one to see what everyone was staring at, and the crowd grew both silent and suspicious.
Before anyone could react, a cry went up from a woman on the edge of the crowd. All eyes turned to see the old woman, Katia’s mother, crying and pointing at the stranger. Katia faced her mother with fearful concern, but when she turned to look at the man her mother pointed to, recognition coursed through her. She cried out as well and broke into a run, hitching the lace of her skirts high to let her feet go free.
“Papa! Papa!” she screamed into the wind, aching as the air carried her voice away. The man didn’t look up. “Papa!”
Finally, she drew close enough for the man to hear her shouts. He looked at her without any sign of recognition until she stood immediately before him, his face blurred by the tears in her eyes. He lifted his hand toward her, shaking so badly as he moved that his fingertips tapped against her face before she could press his palm to her cheek, kissing it as she did.
“Katoushka? Are you really here? You are not a ghost, or only a wish?” he asked, the words coming out as a whisper through his cracked lips.
“No, Papa, I am really here! And you are here! You’re alive!” she said through her quiet sobs. “I thought we would never see you again!”
“I… I walked… all this way. I told you I would come for you.”
“Yes, Papa, you did! It is too good to be true!” As she answered, her mother and sisters reached him, all three crowded around him and clutching at his coat.
“What do you figure that’s about?” Nathaniel asked Pryor, coming up close beside him to ask discreetly. Pryor took a long look at the group who stood crying beside the tracks and smiled.
“I think we have more rooms to add to your cabin!” he replied, clapping his friend on the back. “It looks like you’ve got a father-in-law, too!”
Nathaniel turned white and whirled to face Pryor, a look of outright panic on his face. His expression quickly turned to elation, though, when he realized that the final missing piece of his sweet wife’s puzzle was finally in place.
“Well, aren’t you gonna go say hello? It’s only considered polite to introduce yourself after you marry a man’s daughter, you know,” Pryor teased. “Come on, we’ll walk up there together.” He held out his hand for Moira to join him, and Gretchen and Kieran turned from their conversation at the sight of their passing and followed suit. By the time they reached the cluster of people speaking rapidly in Russian, the tears had given way to cries of joy and thanksgiving.
“Yell! It is good! It is my Papa!” Katia explained as best she could. She turned and made the introductions, giving her father the briefest of explanations for the sight of the tall, pale man with his hand linked in hers. Her father looked Nathaniel up and down silently, long enough for the rest of the family and onlookers to fidget nervously, then smiled a gap-toothed smile and pulled Nathaniel into his thin, wiry arms.
“Welcome, my son!” he announced shakily, to everyone’s delight. Katia beamed at her father and then at Nathaniel, then took little Nikolai from her sister and kissed him, passing him to her father for approval. The old man took the child, hefted him appraisingly, then looked from Katia to Nathaniel. He eyed the child suspiciously, looking Katia’s wedding dress up and down for an explanation.
Katia laughed, then told her father about the boy. The old man’s eyes shed fresh tears when he realized he was holding the grandson of his oldest, greatest friend.
“Papa, come! We must celebrate. Now it is not only a wedding we bless, but your safe return to us!” she cried. Pryor and Nathaniel each took one of the old man’s arms and helped him the rest of the way to the town square, where someone brought him a chair and a plate piled with food. Nathaniel brought another chair over and helped his mother-in-law into it, earning her eternal esteem. Katia handed Nikolai back to her mother and stepped back, the sight of her parents seated together and holding her son w
arming her heart in a way that not much else could.
“My family, Yell! It is my family!” she said happily, turning to face Nathaniel. “It is all my family!”
“I understand, Katia. And it’s wonderful!”
THE END
Click here to read the next book in this series (Adventure For a Bride: Montana Passion #3)
When Anna Mae Flynn passes away, leaving three small children and a husband with a harvest to bring in, the only logical answer is to find Wyatt another wife... quick. He fights everyone at first, even himself, but he knows their logic is sound and their hearts are in the right place.
But Millie Carter is nothing like Wyatt's dear Anna Mae, a fact that his grief causes him to point out at every turn. Can Millie win over a heartbroken man, or will the next train through New Hope take her home?
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