Destiny's Bride

by Ginger Simpson

  ***

  They spent quite a while at the mercantile, buying her more clothes and shoes. She elected to walk barefoot to the store rather than wear her old, worn boots, watching each step carefully to avoid splinters. She picked out some stockings, several dresses, ribbons, and a couple pairs of shoes. She’d forgotten how fun it was to shop.

  Walt was extremely generous. “Buy anything you need, Cece.”

  ”How can you afford all this?”

  “I sold the ranch and land back to the bank… and the Stinsons bought the livestock. I’ve even repaid Aunt May.”

  He’d lost his life’s dream. Sorrow washed over her. Walt’s hope of building his own spread and becoming a successful rancher ended just as abruptly as her life had changed. Seemed his suffering had run deeper than hers. “I’m sorry, Walt, I know how much that place meant to you. Why did you sell it?”

  “I just couldn’t go back there after you disappeared. I tried for a week or so, but couldn’t manage living there without you, so I sold everything, lock stock and barrel. I’ve been just drifting, staying mostly with Mrs. Riley and doing odd jobs around town. New beginnings call for new places, so I thought you might like to live closer to your folks.”

  How could she have been so heartless? Since arriving in town, she hadn’t once given a thought to letting them know that she was alive. Now she tingled with excitement. How would they react news from her after all this time? She hung on Walt’s arm. “When we’re through here, can we please go send my parents a wire?”

  A big smile formed on his handsome face and he nodded. She noted some of the tension between them had dissolved. He put up a good front, but they still had a long way to go. Walt paid for the purchases, and they made their way to the telegraph office.

  The wire she sent read, I’m alive and coming home STOP See you soon STOP Love, Cecile.

  Her heart raced. She was going home to see her parents and could hardly wait.

  She walked back to Mrs. Riley’s, hand in hand with Walt, thinking positive thoughts about rebuilding their relationship. The sound of her new shoes clicking on the wooden planks brought a smile to her face. At least she didn’t have to worry about splinters.

  Back at the boarding house, Walt settled his bill with Mrs. Riley. “We’ll leaving for Silver City first thing in the morning.”

  “I’m sorry to see you go,” the older woman said, accepting his money. “I’ve become accustomed to your company.”

  “It’s not goodbye, just so long. We might be up this way again someday.”

  Mrs. Riley gave him a big hug. “Well, you know you and your little missus are always welcome here.”

  Cecile smiled at the older lady. “Thank you from me, too. I’m sorry I didn’t have more time to get to know you better. People can always use a caring friend in their life. Besides, I could sure use some cooking lessons. I’ve never tasted meals as delicious as those you serve.

  ***

  Walt went to the livery stable to get feed for his horses and to make sure the wheels of his wagon were properly greased. Before returning to the boarding house, he threw some hay into the stall, and his two horses whinnied and bobbed their heads.

  He reached across the gate and ruffled the mane of the nearest one. “Well fella, it seems like you and your pal know that come tomorrow you’re gonna get a taste of freedom—no more confining stalls.”

  Worry about the trip niggled at Walt on the way back to the Mrs. Riley’s. A week of traveling together with Cecile was either going to be a blessing or a very bad mistake.

  ***

  Cecile remembered the last time she’d sat on this same wagon seat. Then she’d looked forward to a new life and home, and here she was doing the same thing again, only this time she was bound for Silver City, the place she left behind. The past year felt like an eternity.

  The wagon creaked past the last outbuilding of town. Cecile turned to look over her shoulder. The horse Lone Eagle gave her as a wedding gift trailed along behind, tied to the back of the wagon. Memories of their special day filled her eyes with tears. She turned to face forward and quickly brushed away the wetness before Walt noticed.

  His whistling seemed to develop a rhythm with the clop, clop, clopping of the horses’ hooves as they pulled the wagon onward. No conversation gave her way too much time to ponder her decision to leave Lone Eagle and her son behind. Could Walt really overlook her time with the Sioux? Could she keep the lie going about having lost their child? Her head ached from all her muddled thoughts. At least, Rain Woman’s herbal mix was working and her breasts no longer leaked.

  Chapter Forty

  The ride across the prairie increased the uneasy feeling of tension between Walt and Cecile, and he bit his tongue every time he wanted to bring up anything about the past. Their occasional conversation, though strained at times, centered on future plans and goals.

  “We’re still young enough to start all over again—build a new home where ever you want. We can have more children, and probably find another rooster with that temperament you loved so much.”

  She punched him in the arm and giggled. The sound warmed his heart.

  Many times the need to ask questions overwhelmed him, but his sore tongue reminded him not to. Besides, he might not like the answers. He fought the demons within, and tried not to dwell on his wife sharing a savage’s bedroll.

  Their first night beneath the wagon, the thought of making love to Cecile crept into Walt’s mind. The idea came as a natural instinct and was fed by his desire for his wife, but unlike the old days when she cuddled against him, tonight, the chasm between them showed she didn’t share his emotions. He missed the woman he'd known and loved, but was she still the same person? Was he still the same man? The courage to approach her failed to muster. Perhaps in time they’d grow comfortable with one another again, though he wondered if they really could. Clinging to his side of the blankets, he finally fell asleep.

  After five days of travel, Cecile’s complaining about her bottom aching because of the hard seat grated Walt’s nerves. While she shifted about and whined about her discomfort, he scanned the horizon, removed his hat and slapped it against his thigh “Yee Haw, it looks like we’re on the final leg of our journey.”

  He noticed the tenseness ridging her jaw. “What’s wrong? I thought you’d be more excited.”

  “I’m anxious to see my parents, but now I have to face telling the story all over again. How will they take the news that I’ve been living with Indians. Mother could forgive almost anything, but Father…he has a reputation to uphold. Appearances have always been important to him.”

  Walt patted her knee. “Don’t worry, Cece, your parents will be so glad to see you the past won’t matter to them.” He hoped her parents could forgive and forget a little better than he could. Maybe time would heal everyone’s hurt.

  ***

  Walt’s touch was different and his attitude toward her had changed. Despite his cheery and carefree attitude, Cecile sensed an inner turmoil whenever he found himself faced with reaching out to her. Actually, she was glad she hadn’t had to face being intimate with him. She wasn’t sure she could. In her mind, having relations would betray Lone Eagle. Even though she made the decision to resume her previous life, her love for her Sioux warrior hadn’t dimmed.

  Walt pulled the wagon to a halt in front of her parents’ house and helped her down. Her mother ran out the front door and nearly knocked them both to the ground. Tears streamed down her face as she embraced Cecile. “My baby, my baby!”

  Her bear hug made it hard for Cecile to breathe.

  Seeing her mother’s tears, Cecile began to cry, too. They held each other and danced around until dizziness forced them to stop. Realizing what a sight they were, tears turned to giggles.

  “Where have you been? What happened to you? Why didn’t you let us know where you were? Are you okay? Her mother tried asking a million questions all in one breath.

  “Mother, hold on.” The barrage of
questions rivaled a round of rapid gunfire. “I’ll answer all your questions. Just give us a moment to unload the wagon and get our things inside.”

  Let me at least get settled before I have to deal with the real hail of bullets.

  “I’m sorry. What was I thinking?” Her mother took her arm. “Of course, come in, come in.”

  Walt took the bags out of the wagon and set them on the front porch. “I’ll let you two have your privacy. I’m going to take the horses and wagon to the livery. And I think I’ll stop in and say hello to Aunt May.”

  “Tell her I said hello and I hope to see her soon.” Cecile followed her mother inside.

  Thankfully, her father worked until late afternoon. She wasn’t all that anxious to face him. Spending time with her mother offered the opportunity to divulge everything, and use her mother’s response to determine what she could safely tell her father.

  Cecile starting unpacking, hanging her new clothes in her old closet. Even though her mother was seated behind her on the bed, Cecile sensed her burning stare and desire to say something. “Okay, sweetheart, tell me before I die of curiosity.”

  Cecile sagged to the edge of her childhood bed and swiveled to face her mother. Nerves clogged her throat. “T…there’s so much to tell, I don’t know where to start.” She jumped right to the point where Lone Eagle found her.

  When she finished the story, her mother sat in disbelief, her eyes wide and teary. “Oh, my poor little girl. You’ve suffered so.” The woman wrung her hands.

  Cecile let out an exasperated breath. “Mother, you misunderstood. I wasn’t mistreated. You don’t need to feel sorry for me. If I hadn’t found out Walt was alive, I would have stayed.”

  Her mother’s throat bobbed with a hard swallow. “I can’t believe you really mean that Cecile,” she snapped, her tone indignant. “You wouldn’t choose to live with savages.”

  “Mother, I know it’s hard for you to believe, but you’re wrong. They aren’t savages. They’re people just like us. You don’t know them like I do.”

  Cecile decided not to share her feelings about Rain Woman. Mother would never understand how her own daughter could develop maternal feelings for another. Why cause her more anguish when she clearly wasn’t reacting the way Cecile hoped?

  After a few hours of wasted breath, her mother refused to see that Cecile hadn’t been through a terrible ordeal at all.

  “I can’t believe you put us through this on purpose,” her mother said, with an incensed tone. “You had choices, but you stayed?”

  “I love you and Father with all my heart, but I didn’t have a choice. If I had known how to get home, I would have come back when Walt didn’t return from his trip. Lone Eagle saved my life, and I’d think you’d at least be grateful for that.” Cecile’s frustration level reached its limit. Before she hurled something really hurtful at her mother, she stormed from of the room, down the stairs, and out the front door. She took deep breaths to calm herself; her grip on the porch railing so tight, her knuckles turned white.

  ***

  At precisely three o’clock Walt strolled by the bank on his way back from his aunt’s house. Harvey Palmer, the ever punctual man, stood locking the front doors of the bank.

  “Mr. Palmer. Nice to see you.”

  Harvey’s eyes went wide and a smile spread across his face. “You’re here already? That means Cecile is home!”

  “Yes, sir, I delivered her hours ago.”

  The banker joined Walt for the walk home, setting a rapid pace to get to his daughter. He was breathless when he turned to Walt. “Where has my daughter been? Is she well? Why didn’t someone let me know you’d arrived?”

  Walt simply smiled. “I’ll let her answer all those questions, and I’ve been to see my aunt so I don’t know why they didn’t send you word.” He quickened his step to keep up. “Cecile and her mother were so excited to see one another I thought they’d never stop crying. She’s looking forward to seeing you, too. But, I do hope you’ll give Cecile a little space. She’s been through a very difficult time.”

  “Difficult how?”

  “She’s been living with Indians.” Walt couldn’t think of anything other than truth. The man had asked a direct question, after all.

  Harvey Palmer’s face shriveled into a disgusted sneer. “I can only imagine what she must have experienced at the hand of savages. My poor, poor little girl.”

  Walt bit his tongue; a habit that’d become all too frequent of late.

  ***

  Her father entered the living room, rushed over and swallowed her up in a giant hug. “Oh, my darling Cecile, you’re home! I’m so happy. Your mother and I missed you so much.”

  Kissing the top of her head, he spoke words of endearment Cecile had never heard from her father’s lips. She always knew he loved her, but hearing the actual words reduced her to tears of joy. He seemed somewhat mellower than she recalled.

  He gently broached the subject of her time with Indians, evidence to her that Walt had filled him in on her whereabouts, but strangely, asked very few questions. Whatever the reason, not having to tell the story all over again eased the tension keeping her neck rigid.

  Her heart still ached from missing Lone Eagle and Two Clouds, and talking about her time with the Indians made the pain worse. Relaying the saga also filled her with guilt about lying to Walt about his child. The burden was too much to bear. Now she had to deal with the fact that her parents would never know their only grandchild. Had her decision to leave him behind been the right one?

  Her only choice now was to focus on the present and not dwell on the past. Thankfully, her mother’s announcement of supper interrupted Cecile’s morose thoughts. She forced herself to smile as she joined the others at the table. The aromas were tantalizing but did little to stir her desire to eat. She feigned hunger, smiling at her mother and ladling mashed potatoes into her plate. “The food smells wonderful. Just as good as I remember.”

  The conversation during the meal revolved around the bank, Aunt May, and anything except her experiences. Cecile was thankful the questioning had stopped, at least for now. While she listened to her father and Walt talk about the sale of the ranch, she agonized over the feelings of emptiness she felt in this place that was once her home.

  Chapter Forty-one

  After dinner they went into the living room to have coffee. Her mother carried the pot on a sterling silver tray. “Cecile, remember Grandma’s tray? You always loved it so.”

  She poured the hot aromatic brew into pretty china cups that sat next to matching sugar and cream containers. All the while, Cecile reflected on the last time she’d been in this room--the day she’d married Walt. She glanced at all the familiar things, trying to find a fit. She no longer felt like the same person. Would life here ever feel familiar again.

  “Would anyone care for a sliver of cherry pie?” Her mother’s voice interrupted her thoughts.

  “No thanks, Mother, I’m still full from dinner, but I will have another cup of this wonderfully rich coffee.”

  While the four of them sat around making small talk, Cecile waited for a dreaded pendulum to swing, changing the topic to her.

  The conversation turned to future plans. “So Walt, now that you’ve sold your place, what are your plans? Any chance you’ll be settling closer to Silver City?” Her father winked at her.

  “I do have hopes of finding a place nearby so Cecile can spend more time with her mother. If I hadn’t moved her so far away in the first place….”

  Cecile moved closer to Walt on the sofa and put her hand on his knee. “Nothing was your fault so please don’t blame yourself.”

  If he kept bringing up the past, her father was bound to start asking questions. She’d rather her mother reveal the story later—which she was sure to do. Besides, Cecile was getting agitated at being treating like she’d been to hell and back and she didn’t need one more person to pity her. What didn’t they understand? What might have been hell to them had turned i
nto heaven for her.

  Her father reached into his vest pocket and produced his watch. “Well, folks, it’s bedtime, nine o’clock. Goodnight.” As was his schedule, he promptly went upstairs. Some things hadn’t changed at all.

  Cecile was weary, but hesitant. She’d have to share a room with Walt again. He hadn’t made any suggestive moves toward her during the trip, but she wondered how long it would be before she had to face being intimate with him. She swallowed her fears and stood.

  Her mother kissed her on the cheek. “It’s so wonderful to have you home, daughter. I freshened up your bedroom with clean linens so it’s all ready for you and Walt. You both have a good night’s sleep.”

  Yawning, Mrs. Palmer followed her husband.

  Feeling extremely awkward, Cecile turned to the mantle and fingered the decorative ceramic pieces there. Walt fidgeted on the sofa.

  She might as well face it. They were going to share a bed.

  A deafening silence engulfed the room.

  Why not go ahead and ask him?

  “Are you sleepy?”

  Standing, Walt stretched and yawned.

  I guess that means yes.

  Cecile started upstairs with Walt trailing behind. She opened the bedroom door and memories flooded back. She’d been so busy unpacking earlier, she hadn’t noticed that her porcelain dolls were still on the dresser, and everything looked just the same. The bed had been turned down, and the smell of talcum permeated the room. “My mother always sprinkled powder between the sheets. She says it gives the bed a fresh smell.”

  “It sure does smell good. Boy howdy, am I tired.” He gazed at the floor as if waiting for some indication of where he was expected to sleep.

  Cecile went into the dressing room and pulled the curtain behind her. She changed into the nightdress Walt had bought her and dashed for the bed. Perhaps if she hurried and covered up, he wouldn’t get any ideas. She jumped between the powdered sheets, sending the loose talcum spiraling into minor dust storm. She turned toward the wall and hugged her side of the mattress, praying he’d just lie down and go to sleep.