Sunlight and Shadows

by Christine Cross

  ‘Hannah, you are still young,’ she had said. ‘Frank Jessup is not the only man in New England. There are plenty of young men who would be more than happy to have a beautiful girl like you for their wife.”

  In my mind, I knew she was right. I even tried to follow her advice. I attended all the usual balls for the season. Danced with several eligible young men.

  But, every time I came close to letting Frank go, something of him would be there again. Either he would be in attendance with his new wife. Or, one of his brothers would be there with Frank’s eyes and hair and smile.

  Each time I saw something of him, everyone and everything else paled by comparison. That is why I knew I had to get away. That is why I answered Adam Jennings request for a bride five months ago. That is why I accepted his marriage proposal. And, that is why I am leaving my childhood home, never to return.

  “Hannah!” Mama’s voice calls up the stairs. “Your father has the wagon ready. You had best hurry, you don’t want to miss your train.”

  “Coming Mama,” I call back down to her.

  Snapping my satchel closed, I took one last look out the window. I take in the sun beaming down on the lemon tree I used to swing from as a child. The bench in the garden where I used to sit on spring afternoons reading.

  For one moment, one fraction of a second, I am tempted to unpack my satchel and tell my parents that I have changed my mind. I am tempted to remain here, in my parent’s home, forever swinging from my lemon tree and reading on my bench.

  “Hannah!” Mama calls once again. This time, I hear her coming up the stairs. Quickly, I grab my satchel and turn my back on the window. I leave my room and meet my mother on the landing.

  “I’m ready, Mama,” I say as quickly as possible.

  “Well, thank goodness for that,” Mama says leading me down the stairs. “Your father has already saddled the horses and you haven’t much time to reach the station.”

  “I am sure we will arrive in plenty of time, Mama,” I tell her, with a slightly exasperated tone to my voice. Mama is always fussing. And this week it has been worse than ever.

  “I certainly hope so,” she answers, as we reach the back door where Papa has hitched our horse Mable to the open wagon.

  Mama guides me towards the wagon and Papa takes my satchel and places it gently in the back. Before I climb in, I turn to my mother one last time.

  Her face is red and I can see water beginning to brim in her eyes, though she’s clearly trying to hold tears back.

  “Now, be sure to write as soon as you arrive,” she says, in a voice that would be stern if not for the slight tremble. “If I do not receive a letter from you in one week’s time, I will begin to worry.”

  I smile at her and envelop her in an embrace she was clearly not prepared for. It only takes a moment for her small arms to enfold me as well.

  “There is no need to worry mama,” I say, just before pulling back from her. “I will write as soon as I am able.”

  Tears are now falling freely down her cheeks as she nods and pats my arm.

  “Good,” she says. “Now, you had best get on your way.”

  She guides me to the wagon, where Papa gives me his hand to help me up. I take it gratefully and lift myself into the wagon.

  Soon, much too soon, we are starting down the road towards the train station. Papa is quiet, for the most part, as am I.

  Occasionally, I catch him looking at me out of the corner of my eye. He wears a sad, wistful smile as he drives our horse. We are near to the station when he speaks for the first time.

  “I am sorry we will not be able to see the wedding,” he says.

  “There will not be much to see, I’m sure,” I answer. “It will be a very small affair.”

  “All the same…” Papa trails off and I am unsure if he intends to finish his thought. Minutes pass and I assume neither of us will speak again. I see the station begin to form in the distance.

  “I assume this...Mr. Jennings is a good man?” Papa asks finally.

  “He seems to be,” I answer. “He has a prosperous ranch. Comes from a close-knit family. He speaks of his sister often.”

  “And you believe you will be happy with him?” Papa asks. For the first time on our trip, he turns to look at me fully. I hesitate before answering.

  The truth is, I have never thought much about happiness when I consider Adam. I have not thought of love or attachment in the way I did when I was engaged to Frank. And, nothing in Adam’s writing has indicated that he thinks much of happiness or love when he considers me.

  It seems we both view this as a business transaction more than a joining of two souls. He needs a woman’s help on his ranch and I need to be rid of the memories of my former fiancé.

  All the same, papa is looking at me in a way that makes me nervous. As though he will turn the wagon around now and insist I stay home, if I say that I am not sure I will be happy with my new husband. So, I take a deep breath and tell him, as near as I can, what he needs to hear.

  I nod my head and smile slightly. “I believe I will be happy with Mr. Jennings,” I answer. “In time, I am certain I will.”

  “Well then, good,” papa says, still looking at me cautiously, “As long as you are certain. I suppose there is nothing more to do than get you on your train.”

  Papa helps me down from the wagon and carries my satchel to the platform, where the train to Santa Fe is already waiting. Papa hands my luggage off to the porter. As soon as the porter has gone, papa puts one hand on my shoulder, staying me, as searches with his other hand, in his pocket for something.

  After a moment, his hand emerges with another ticket. He places it in my hand and I can see that this is a ticket to return from Santa Fe back to Massachusetts.

  “Just in case you are not happy,” Papa says. “If you are upset or disappointed for whatever reason, know that you will always be welcomed back home.”

  The tears that threatened to fall when I bid farewell to mama now fall freely as I look at my father. I throw my arms tightly around papa’s neck and he puts his arms around me briefly before ushering me onto the train.

  As I reach my compartment and the train begins to pull away from the platform, I watch papa intently. He, in turn, does not take his eyes off me until he is lost in the smoke and we can no longer see each other.

  Now, I am sitting straight-backed and rigid in my train car, wiping tears from my eyes and praying desperately that I have done the right thing.

  *****

  It is over five days journey from my small town in Massachusetts to the city of Santa Fe, New Mexico. I’ve watched the landscape change dramatically from rolling hills to green plains, and finally, to the dust-filled, rolling desert that makes up the southwest.

  I can tell merely by staring out the window of my train car that this land is much different from anything I have ever known. The roads are made of dirt and sand, cattle roam the brush. The green patches along the tracks, and even the buildings, look as though they come from another world. Homes are not made of brick or wooden siding. Instead, they are paved with a red, clay-like substance.

  In his letters, Adam Jennings told me about this. He says they call it Adobe. It came from the native Indians who live here still.

  All the same, it is jarring to me and more than a little unfamiliar. All the same, I cannot stem the occasional excited thrill that comes over me when I see some site previously unknown to me.

  By the time we finally pull into the station in Santa Fe, I feel a new thrill wash over me. For perhaps the first time, I am excited about the prospect of beginning this new life.

  As the porter helps me down with my satchel, I begin to search the station diligently. I have never seen Adam Jennings. No photo accompanied his advertisement and though I sent a photograph along to him early in our correspondence, he never returned the courtesy.

  But, he did tell me that he would arrive at the station to collect me when I arrived. So far, I have not seen any man searching
for a woman of my description.

  Only a few more moments pass when I see someone walking towards me. It is not a young man as I had expected, but a woman with blonde hair tied into a neat bun, a pale face and blue eyes.

  “Miss Henderson?” she asks me tentatively.

  “Yes?” I answer equally reluctantly. The woman looks relieved.

  “I am glad to have found you,” she says. “I am Sarah. Your future sister-in-law.”

  She places her hand in front of me, as a signal to shake it in greeting. I do, though I am still fairly hesitant.

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss Jennings,” I say, hoping that my confusion is not present on my face.

  “I realize you were expecting your fiancé,” Sarah says. Clearly my disappointment has bled through. Though, Sarah Jennings is smiling and does not seem the least bit affronted.

  “Adam did so wish to meet you on your arrival,” she says. “But, he realized that there were issues at the ranch which needed his attention. My husband and I volunteered to meet you in his stead.”

  “I see,” I answer, as Sarah leads me from the platform to the side of the station. There, an uncovered wagon waits for us, hitched to one roan horse and being driven by a tall man wearing a straw brim hat.

  As we approach, he jumps down from the wagon and, with a wide smile, holds out his hand to me.

  “You must be Miss Henderson,” he says. “I’m Benjamin, Sarah’s husband. It is a pleasure to meet you at last.”

  “You as well, Mr…”

  “Smith,” he says, with a smile as he shakes my hand. “But you can call me Ben. Everyone ‘round here does. Besides, in a week, we’ll be family!”

  I smile tentatively but issue no reply. Benjamin did not seem to need it. He jumped back into the wagon before helping his wife into the side seat. Sarah, in turn, offers her hand and helps me up alongside her.

  It is a longer distance than I imagined from the station to the ranch. Certainly longer than the journey between my parent’s house, and the train station back home. But I must admit, there is much more to see in the land here.

  Luckily, Sarah and Benjamin both seem to enjoy pointing out the new sights and sounds of this strange land.

  “The animals you see there are buffalo,” Sarah tells me, pointing towards large, hairy animals grazing on the small greenish plain in the road.

  “There used to be a lot more of them,” Benjamin adds. “Especially in the mountains north of here. But, once the hunters came in, they started dwindling.”

  I must admit, I am amazed by the number of strange creatures I find here. Not only are there snakes and lizards typical of this desert landscape, but, in the canyons, I even catch sight of a large cougar running away from us at the sound of the wagon wheels.

  “Mountain lions,” Benjamin tells me. “Still plenty of those around. They’re too dangerous to hunt.”

  After a long haul, our pace begins to slow as we approach a large ranch house in the distance.

  “Is that it?” I ask. “Is that the ranch?”

  Benjamin lets out a hearty chuckle and even Sarah smiles indulgently. I look between them wondering if there is some sort of joke that I have missed. Luckily, Sarah turns to explain.

  “We came into the ranch a good ways back,” she tells me. “That up ahead, is just the house.”

  I look behind us at the huge expanse of brush and realize, to my slight embarrassment, that the land was indeed filled with cattle. I suppose I simply assumed that cattle would roam around freely in this new land. Much like the buffalo had.

  We pull the wagon up to the house and almost immediately, two small figures come tearing out to meet us.

  “Mama! Papa!” the taller one exclaims. Once they’ve stopped by the wagon, I see that the figures are children. A girl with blonde hair done in two braids of about nine or ten years old, and a smaller boy with equally blonde hair, who looks to be between five and six.

  “Did you bring us anything from town?” the boy asks his father excitedly, as Benjamin jumps down from the wagon.

  “Now, Philip.” Benjamin chides, coming to the side of the wagon to help me down. “You know we did not go into town to buy you two presents. We went to fetch your new Aunt Hannah.”

  As Sarah comes down from the wagon, she takes my arm and leads me to the children, both of whom suddenly appear very shy.

  “Charlotte, Philip,” she says. “I would like you to meet Hannah Henderson. She’s going to marry your uncle Adam.”

  The children stare at me for a few moments. I can tell that all three of us are at a loss as to what to say to one another.

  “Well, say hello,” Benjamin prods.

  “How do you do, Miss Henderson,” the girl says quietly, stepping forward.

  “You may call me Hannah,” I answer, taking her small hand. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Charlotte.”

  I smile, hoping that it is not as hesitant as it feels. While I have always liked the idea of children, I often find myself at a bit of a loss when I am actually in their presence.

  As his sister steps back, I see Philip look hesitantly to his father before stepping forward as well.

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you Miss... Hannah,” he amends quickly. I smile much more genuinely this time. I already feel a bit more at ease knowing the children feel just as awkward about this meeting as I do.

  “A pleasure to know you as well, Mr. Philip,” I answer. He giggles before stepping back and allowing his mother to lead me towards the house.

  “Where is your Uncle Adam?” Sarah asks, as we come to the large, wooden front door.

  “He’s out back chopping wood for the new barn,” Charlotte answers. “He said he wouldn’t be long.”

  “Well, when we get in, Charlotte, why don’t you go tell him that Hannah has arrived,” Sarah says.

  Charlotte, apparently more than amenable to this idea, rushes out the back door as soon as we have entered through the front. I hear her small voice call outside, though I cannot see the back.

  “Uncle Adam!” the girl calls. “Miss Hannah is here!”

  I hear a low grumble in reply but cannot make out the words said. Charlotte rushes back inside to her mother.

  “He says he will be in shortly,” Charlotte informs us.

  “Well then,” Benjamin says moving in with my satchel, “I had best set your things down in the room you will be occupying for the time being. Adam will show you back when he is ready.”

  With that, Benjamin moves down the hall and out of sight. This leaves me, Sarah and the children standing together in the front hall, waiting for the man of the hour to make his appearance.

  I feel a chorus of butterflies take flight in my stomach at the thought of seeing my husband-to-be for the first time. Truth be told, I have very little idea of what to expect. Adam hardly spoke of his appearance in his letters.

  By the time the back door opens to reveal a large, shaded figure, I am a bundle of nerves.

  He steps into the light and I can see him clearly. His face is red from the heat and smeared with sweat and dirt. He has a bristling beard and a large, imposing frame. Likewise, his expression is dark and forbidding, even as his gaze lands on me.

  The only feature in which I find a certain lightness and sensitivity, are his eyes. They are bright green and seem to soften when they land on me. This sensitivity passes within a moment, however, and his face is hard and unreadable when he moves towards me.

  “Miss Henderson,” he says, “It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance at last.”

  He holds out his dirty hand to me stiffly. It is as if we have not been corresponding for months, and were complete strangers before this very moment. I try my best to shake the odd feeling and smile at him.

  “It is a pleasure to meet you as well, Mr. Jennings,” I answer. “I have been looking forward to this for a while.”

  His eyes light up once again at my greeting, and I can see the mouth beneath his beard nearly curl up in a smile. He sti
ll holds my hand and looks into my eyes. For a moment, it is as though he wants to say something complimentary to me.

  The moment passes, however, and as though remembering himself, he drops my hand quickly and his face returns to its neutral expression.

  “Yes, well,” he answers. “It will be nice to have your help on the ranch. Lord knows we need it.”

  Strangely, I feel my heart begin to sink at that. I know, logically, that it only reinforces what I believed about this union. This was a business contract, nothing more. “I am sure you’re tired. Sarah can show you to your room.”

  With that, he turns his back on us and moves back outside. I stare at his back, utterly bewildered.

  Of course, I had not expected a lover’s reception. But, I had at the very least, looked forward to something more familiar.

  Sarah, apparently taken aback as well, waits a moment before taking my arm and leading me through the small hall. The light from the windows is still enough that the wooden walls are visible. Though I can tell that this portion of the house will be very dark when the sun descends.

  “I feel I must apologize for my brother,” Sarah says, as we reach a small wooden door. She turns to me before opening it.

  “This is a new position for him. He has not so much as looked at a woman in years,” she says.

  “I understand,” I answer trying to be as polite as I can. “This is a new situation for all of us.”

  “I must say, we were all surprised when Adam took my advice and put the advertisement in at all,” Sarah said. “Especially with his past.”

  “His Past?” I can’t help but ask. Sarah looks up at me strangely, as though surprised by my curiosity.

  “You don’t know?” she asks.

  I can think of nothing to say to this, so I simply shake my head ‘no.’

  “Well,” Sarah says. “If Adam has not told you, I don’t believe it is my place to do so.”

  She turns and opens the door. I take this as a signal that the conversation has ended. Though I still have a multitude of questions, I keep them to myself. Sarah leads me into a small, plain room with one dresser, and one bed with a quilted cover. My satchel sits just beside the dresser.