Loveland

by Andrea Downing

  “We’re moving one of those small organs, for Miss Hegarty to play, into the area by the door there if that’s all right,” said Tom.

  “I saw the Allen sisters in town,” said Annie, “and they say the flowers will be perfect. They’re coming out early on Tuesday to put everything in place.”

  “I don’t really mind if I haven’t got a Parisian dress,” Sue Ann said encouragingly. “I’ll get one another time!”

  Alex had to laugh; she knew they were all trying to help and she knew things would be fine. Most of all, she knew it didn’t really matter. She could get married in any old dress and her friends wouldn’t care, just so long as they were all together.

  Jesse took her hand and gazed at her a long moment that ended with a decisive sigh. He turned to the minister. “Rev’rend,” he said. “You know them bits the bride says about love, cherish, honor and obey?”

  “Of course. The vows.”

  “Yeah.” Jess looked again at Alex. “I think we gotta leave out that obey bit if y’all don’t mind. We don’t wanna make a liar outta the bride on her wedding day.”

  There was knowing laughter before the minister asked, “Well, shall we start? I shall be waiting at the end of this walkway, is that correct?”

  Jesse showed him how the curtains would be drawn open to the French doors from the house into the garden and the bridesmaids, followed by Alex and Tom, would come down the path between the seating for the guests. He and Cal would be off to the side at the front by the other little steps down to the covered walkway. “Shall we try this, then?”

  Cal, Jesse and the minister got into position, Cal humming some tune no one recognized for the bridal march, and Annie followed Sue Ann at a slow walk down the path. Alex moved past the curtains to the head of the path and an arm slipped through hers—but it wasn’t Tom’s. She looked up and there was David, smiling mischievously. Everyone laughed.

  Alex burst into tears.

  “Hello, what’s this then?” David asked, taking Alex into his arms. “I thought you’d be happy to see me.”

  “I thought you weren’t coming,” she sobbed into his shoulder. “I thought you couldn’t make it, that the wire didn’t reach you.” She sniffed. “I hate surprises, David!” She stomped her foot. “You know that!” She took his proffered handkerchief, then turned to look down the aisle at Jesse. “You’re horrible!” she said, trying not to smile. “And you, Tom Yost. It was plain mean to do this to me.”

  “Oh, now, Alex,” Tom said soothingly, “the dresses are here, too, so everything’s going to be just fine. No more surprises. I promise.”

  “Oh, the dresses are here!” Sue Ann said excitedly, “Can I see mine?”

  Alex wouldn’t have Jesse in her bed after that evening. She was too superstitious, she said, to tempt fate. In any event, Jesse threw himself into work the last few days trying to put things in order before they went on their wedding trip. They had thought about Texas after Norris Beckett’s visit, but Jesse decided it was best left until the air had cleared a bit over John Hayford and his fellow British investors. They considered going to see San Francisco and the Pacific Ocean since neither of them had been far west and, certainly, Jesse had never been in a large city, but Alex said she’d rather go someplace that didn’t require dressing up evenings and dealing with fancy hotels. So, in the end they happily decided on going up to the Boyd retreat for three nights and then continuing on to the new Yellowstone National Park to see the geysers and the country up into Montana.

  The day of the wedding Alex was up at 5 a.m. pacing her room, trying to think things through, be sure everything was as it should be. She could hear the men going out on herd and the servants moving about downstairs, speaking in low voices thinking she was still asleep. She sat at her dressing table to look at herself, and noted the darkness under her eyes from lack of sleep and the light honey color her skin had taken on from the summer sun. She got up and opened the French doors to let the air in and heard the birds calling to each other like neighbors in a tenement as they started their day. The view down the garden was glorious. It was going to be perfect weather.

  Alex strode the length of the room a few minutes, took a deep breath, then rang for Rose. Soon she heard her maid coming up the stairs, a teaspoon dancing on a saucer.

  “You’re early,” Rose commented, setting the tray out on the dressing table. “Shall I run your bath now, M’lady?”

  Alex stood there looking at her faithful, dear old Rose. She plunked down on the bed. “No. Yes. Oh, no, Rose. I don’t think so. Later maybe.”

  “Maybe? Maybe? You do know, M’Lady, you’re getting married today. I think perhaps there is no maybe about having a bath.”

  “No. Yes. Yes.” Alex put her head in her hands.

  “Oh, dear.” Rose looked down at her. “I wouldn’t think you’d be having wedding nerves, I’m sure.” She stood there a moment. “You haven’t a headache, have you?”

  “No, no. I think I need to sleep some more. That’s it. I have to go back to sleep.” With that Alex crawled back under the sheet and waved Rose away.

  “Oh, for goodness sake,” Rose commented as she went out.

  But Alex couldn’t sleep. She lay there, her eyes wide open, staring across at the wedding dress hanging on the front of her linen press, the lace mantilla she had chosen to wear instead of a veil thrown over the shoulder. Annie and Rose had worked the last several days on doing minor adjustments to both Alex’s and Sue Ann’s dresses—Alex’s because she had gained a bit of weight since sending M. Worth the measurements, Sue Ann’s because she had grown a tiny bit. The only one that had fit perfectly was Annie’s, and she had been so delighted with it, it almost moved Alex to tears. “A Parisian dress,” Annie had exclaimed putting it on, “me in a real Parisian dress at my age!”

  “When I grow up,” said Sue Ann, “I shall have dozens of Parisian dresses, just like Lady Alex, and wear them all the time.”

  And Alex had said the dresses didn’t make her happy, they were just adornment. Only her friends made her happy—which was true.

  They were such good people, all of them. Studious, quiet J.J. Ebullient Sue Ann, who was reaching for the stars—and why not? thought Alex. And her dear surrogate parents, Tom and Annie. They only wished her well, only ever wanted her happiness. As did the punchers—not a bad man in the lot, the dearest best friends a girl could want.

  And Jesse. Her Jesse now. Her best friend, her lover, her soul-mate, her life. What was more important, making Jesse happy or her freedom, her independence? Were the two mutually exclusive? Did they need to be wed for Jesse to be happy? She knew she loved him more than she would ever love anyone, knew she couldn’t live without him there in her life, knew she wanted his children, wanted to see him every single day, be with him, make love to him. Annie had once said freedom was having a choice, but was marrying Jesse the right choice? Could she have a career and still keep Jesse happy? An artist’s career was not just about exhibitions in galleries—she knew this now. There were commissions, commissions that took you away from your home, from your family. Would all of that be fair to Jesse?

  At one pm, Rose knocked on the door again to find Alex just sitting, staring at herself in the mirror, breakfast still untouched. “I’ll run the bath now, M’lady. It’s three hours to go and there’s ever such a lot to do.”

  Alex listened to the rumble of the pump kicking in downstairs and the water filling her tub. She heard the voices of the Allen twins as they set out the flowers, made adjustments, discussed a few changes. The perfume drifted in on the breeze making her slightly somnolent as she sat with her head in her hands. When she heard the familiar screech of Rose shutting off the taps, she rose as if sleep-walking and went to bathe.

  “M’lady?” Rose called through the door a while later. “Are you all right?” she asked somewhat nervously.

  Alex took a deep breath. The water was rapidly cooling as she continued to just sit there. “Yes, Rose, I’m fine.”

 
Rose helped Alex dry off and dress into her pantalets, stockings and a dressing gown while her hair was done. They had decided, against all fashion, to pull it as straight back as could be, letting the natural curls frame her face with ringlets at the back. Since Alex had come to believe curling irons ruined the hair and burnt it, Rose brushed it back, fixed it with combs and wound thick strands of it into numerous ribbons so it would dry into tendrils.

  “You should eat something,” Rose said as she fixed in the last ribbon. “You don’t want your stomach grumbling as you say I do.” Alex didn’t reply so Rose put the brush down and left to get a tray. “The Yosts are here now,” she said as she returned a bit later. “Wilson has shown them to the blue guest room to change for the wedding. I told them you weren’t dressed.”

  “It’s fine,” said Alex. She picked a bit at the food set in front of her while Rose shook out the dress, checked it over, and got it ready to put on. She pulled Alex’s new shoes from the wardrobe and laid them out. “I can’t eat any more.” Alex pushed the tray away.

  “All right, I’ll take it down. You sit a moment and then we’ll dress.”

  Alex sat wearily listening to Rose’s retreating footsteps. She knew she was being uncooperative, that Rose would be worrying and might approach Annie for help, yet she couldn’t seem to shake the niggling qualms. Trying to show some inclination to be dressed and ready for the wedding, Alex started to remove the ribbons from her hair, which was still damp.

  “I thought we were leaving that for last,” Rose muttered as she entered.

  Alex stopped, got up and put her hands up for the dress to be slid over her. She stayed silent as Rose hooked up first the inside corset, then the outside, nor did she speak as Rose stooped to push the shoes on her feet. She sat back down, without a word for the hair dressing to be finished when there was a knock on the door.

  “Nearly time,” called Annie through the door. “Do you need any help?”

  Rose hesitated, saw Alex in the mirror shake her head, and called back, “No, Mrs. Yost, we’re fine. We’ll be down in a minute.”

  Alex knew Annie was still standing there a moment, then heard her proceed downstairs talking quietly to Sue Ann as she did so.

  “That’s it then,” said Rose as she pulled the last ribbon from Alex’s ringlets. She took down the matching mantilla and fixed it into Alex’s hair to just cover the curls at the back, then gently put her hands on the girl’s shoulders. “You look beautiful,” she whispered. “Now all we need is a smile.”

  But there was none. Alex stood up and Rose lifted her train and followed her to the top of the stairs where she stood for a minute listening to the happy bantering going on in the drawing room—Tom telling his wife he still owed her a wedding trip and if she was going to look like that, it was probably time he paid up; David inviting them to visit him anytime they wanted and suggesting England might be a nice belated wedding trip; Sue Ann twirling around and singing to herself. It was Sue Ann who first saw Alex at the top of the steps and gasped. Everyone rushed to look and just stood there gaping up at Alex.

  “Well, I’ll be,” whispered Tom.

  David smiled. “Yes, she cleans up rather well, my sister. One is always surprised when one sees Alex out of that cowboy outfit she insists on wearing.”

  Alex started slowly down the stairs, the train flowing behind her like a silken river. She saw the expectant, happy faces, heard the low hum of guests settling into their seats and the hurried movements of last minute adjustments going on outside. Then she stopped. Two-thirds of the way down she looked at Tom and David, her face slowly creasing as if invisible hands had pressed it in. She burst into tears and sat clumsily on the step.

  “I can’t do this!” she cried, her hand to her mouth, “I can’t marry Jesse. I can’t!” She sat there sobbing uncontrollably, everyone looking at her.

  Tom and David rushed to either side of her, Annie standing below. “Alex, sweetheart,” she said soothingly, “it’s just nerves. Why, all brides get them. You’ll be fine. It will all be fine.”

  “Of course it will,” Sue Ann said brightly, but Annie waved her away.

  “No, you don’t understand,” moaned Alex. “It’ll kill him. I’ll just make him so unhappy. I can’t do that. He’ll end up hating me.”

  Tom looked briefly at David who mirrored his own perplexed expression. “Now, Alex,” he said as calmly as he could muster. “You know that’s not true. Jesse loves you more than anything. And you love him. What’ll make him unhappy is if you leave him standing there at the altar and don’t marry him. Now, you can’t do that to—”

  “Shall I start the music?” called Miss Hegarty through the French door.

  Annie went to tell her they’d be a few more minutes. She took a peek and saw Jesse and Cal standing at the top of the aisle all ready, as was the minister who looked her way with a raised brow. “Someone ought to go out and say we’re running a bit late,” Annie said, a small hint of worry showing in her voice.

  “Come on, darling,” David said. “This is nonsense now. Pull yourself—”

  “No!” cried Alex starting to sob again. “I can’t. I just can’t do it,” she said, the tears running down her face.

  Tom took David aside. “Best go have a word with Jess,” he said. “See what he thinks.”

  “The groom shouldn’t see the bride before the wedding,” Sue Ann piped up.

  “No dear.” Tom patted her shoulder and led David out.

  They walked hurriedly down the aisle, past the guests who were murmuring amongst themselves, and on toward a smiling Jesse. The groom had had his hair cut a bit and was wearing a new dress suit and shoes, looking very elegant for a man who spent most of his life in the saddle, in dust and all weathers. Jesse’s smile widened as they approached, and he started to reach around in his pockets looking for something.

  “How we doin’?” he said with a huge grin. Cal chuckled a bit beside him.

  “We have a problem,” said Tom barely audibly. “She’s refusing to come out. She says—”

  “Oh, heck, Tom, I know what she says,” Jesse interrupted quite calmly. “It’ll be fine…if I ever find…”

  “You expected this?” Tom said in disbelief.

  “‘Course I did. Been expectin’ it all along. The only dang surprise is you two didn’t see this coming. How long you known her, Tom? How long she been your sister, David? You mean to stand there and tell me you didn’t think this would happen? You thought she’d just mosey on down the aisle pleased as punch and ever’thing would be just fine and dandy?”

  He stopped to shake his head at Cal who was laughing quietly there beside him, then finally found what he was looking for and pulled it out of his inside pocket. He looked briefly at the folded paper, turned it over and handed it to Tom. “Here, give this to her,” he said. “Ever’thing’ll be fine. I promise.”

  David and Tom looked at one another, then turned around and went back to the house. They stood before Alex who was still sniffing, seated on the step. Tom said, “Jesse sent you this,” and he handed her the creased and crinkled piece of paper.

  Alex sniffed some more as she unfolded it, looked at it, and gurgled a bit. The gurgle became a giggle and the giggle became a laugh and the laughter got loud enough for guests outside the door to hear and start laughing a bit with her. She stood up and tucked into her bodice the old drawing Jesse had done that night at Boyd, the first night they had made love.

  She ran her hands down her dress to remove the creases and came down the last few steps to walk slowly toward the front window where her bouquet lay on the table. She glanced out and across to see the corral, the flowers, the ribbons, the torches set out. The extra serving staff they had hired was scurrying about. And in front was Ranger, also beribboned with white flowers—and the old English sidesaddle on his back. “Bloody punchers’ humor,” Alex murmured to herself. “You just have to love them.”

  Miss Hegarty put her face around the door again. “Shall I start the musi
c yet?” she asked somewhat timidly.

  “Oh, for heavens’ sake, yes,” replied Alex laughing, giving Tom and David each an arm.

  The bridal march played, silencing the guests who stood at last, and Sue Ann and Annie started down the aisle.

  In the late afternoon sunshine of that August day, Jesse Makepeace turned to meet his bride.

  Author’s Note

  In writing this book I have tried to recreate the atmosphere, language, mannerisms, etiquette and dress of the Colorado of the 1880s as faithfully as possible. While not all of the books mentioned below are exactly specific to that time and location, they do cover the period of the late 19th and very early 20th centuries and are local to the western states of both the USA and Canada. All of the following memoirs have been indispensable:

  Abbott, E.C. “Teddy Blue” and Smith, Helen Huntington: We Pointed Them North: Recollections of a Cowpuncher, University of Oklahoma Press, Norman, 1955;

  Bronson, Edgar Beecher: Reminiscences of a Ranchman, General Books, Breinigsville, 2009 (reprint)

  Blasingame, Ike: Dakota Cowboy: My Life in the Old Days, University of Nebraska Press, Lincoln, 1958

  Hobson Jr., Richmond P.: Grass Beyond the Mountains, McClelland and Stewart, Toronto, 1951; et. seq.

  Nothing Too Good for a Cowboy, 1955

  The Rancher Takes A Wife, 1961

  Russell, Charles M.: Trails Plowed Under: Stories of the Old West, University of Nebraska Press, Lincoln, 1996 (reprint of Doubleday ed., 1927).

  I also found useful:

  Adams, Andy: The Log of a Cowboy: a Narrative of the Old Trail Days, Feather Trail Press, Lexington, 2009 (reprint from 1903). Although the book was fiction, it was based on the author’s personal experience of an 1882 trail drive;

  Enss, Chris: How the West was Worn: Bustles and Buckskins on the Wild Frontier, Twodot, Guilford, 2006

  Morison, Samuel Eliot: History of the American People, Oxford University Press, New York, 1965.