She Shall Be Praised

by Ginny Aiken

  She might start by considering the gorgeous clothes she could choose for her honeymoon. She wondered where Mr. Hamilton would decide to take her. Would he prefer Paris, Vienna, Venice, or Rome? Or would he fancy something more exotic? Like the Greek islands, perhaps, or… Morocco?

  A thrill propelled her to her feet, the toast limp and the congealed egg by now forgotten. “Oh, goodness! I do have so much to do, don’t I? After all, I have a wedding to plan. If you’ll excuse me, I’ll go start…”

  “You have made me the happiest man alive!” Joshua pressed Emma’s hand to his lips. “And you’ll see, Miss Emma, I’ll make you happy. We’ll have a wonderful life together.”

  Emma smiled. “Why, thank you, Mr. Hamilton. I do so appreciate that promise. Surely, you must know how happy my papa is with my decision.”

  “And my parents will be, as well. They think the world of you.”

  Did they really? Had they heard the talk Aunt Sophia had mentioned? Emma’s cheeks heated and she hoped the elder Hamiltons had been spared the embarrassment. Silver-haired Marianne and tall, dignified Judge Oscar Hamilton were not the sort to take disgrace kindly.

  “I do hope I can keep it that way,” she said in a spindly voice. “Will you be coming back to Portland with Papa? After the business trip to France, that is.”

  “Afraid so,” Joshua said. “I would much prefer to return with you, especially now that we’re engaged—engaged! That does have a nice ring to it, doesn’t it?”

  She nodded and smiled.

  “At any rate, I’m afraid your father is counting on me. We’ve set things up with some gentlemen in Paris and Marseilles who wouldn’t understand it if I suddenly decided not to go. But I promise I’ll be back as soon as I possibly can be.”

  They chatted a few minutes longer about the men’s trip, and then Joshua pressed Emma to set a date for the wedding. Truth be told, she hadn’t thought that far ahead.

  “This is all so new!” she said. “I have no idea. What do you think?”

  “Me!” His eyes opened wide. “I always thought ladies put a great deal of stock in those things.”

  “I suppose it’s different, since I don’t have a mama to help me with these decisions. Of course, it must be next year. That way I’ll have plenty of time, and Aunt Sophia can help, too. I’m sure it takes a great deal to put on a wedding, especially when I consider how much work it is for her to throw one of her splendid parties.”

  “Well, then, what do you think of… say, next June?”

  “A year and a month… I’m sure I should manage to do something suitable in that time, don’t you?”

  He beamed. “I’m sure you will do something splendid in that time.” He stood and smiled, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. “I had planned this just a bit differently, but now that you’ve agreed to marry me, it’s even more perfect than I thought. I came this morning with a surprise for you.”

  “Surprise? I love surprises! What’s your perfect surprise?”

  Joshua headed for the parlor door to the hall. “Ah-ah-ah! Just give me a chance. It’ll only be a minute or two. Then you’ll see.”

  Emma’s curiosity itched within her. She fought the temptation to follow Joshua to the front of the house and peek out the window, but she doubted that would impress him. Such actions would make her appear almost childish. Even though she did feel the greatest urge to see what he was up to.

  She hadn’t expected him to show up that morning. He’d known she was leaving for Portland, and she’d let him know the night before how busy she expected her morning to be. But now, seeing that she’d made up her mind about his proposal at breakfast, she was glad he’d come, if only for a brief visit. And she was going home as a newly engaged woman, one preparing to enter the greatest adventure of her life.

  She tapped the toe of her fashionable travel boot against Aunt Sophia’s gleaming oak parlor floor. What could he be up to? What kind of surprise did he have? He couldn’t have known she’d decided to accept his proposal before he’d walked into the parlor a scant half-hour earlier, so what could he have prepared?

  Moments later, the front door opened again. She sank back into the plush velvet sofa, pretending a nonchalance she didn’t feel.

  “Please close your eyes,” Joshua requested from just on the other side of the threshold.

  Emma giggled—from excitement or nervousness, she wasn’t quite sure. “They’re closed.”

  A moment later, she sensed his presence at her side. “Now?” she asked.

  “On the count of three. One… two… three!”

  She opened her eyes. “How sweet!”

  In his arms, her intended held a squirmy little dog, its curly white fur giving it the appearance of a fluffy cotton ball. Big black eyes darted everywhere, taking in its surroundings. A pink tongue darted out and took a quick swipe of Joshua’s hand.

  “She’s a poodle,” he said, wearing a tentative smile. “Do you like her?”

  “Of course I like her! She’s darling. What’s her name?”

  His smile broadened even further. “She has none. That’s for you to decide. She’s yours.”

  “Mine? What do you mean?”

  “A friend of my mother’s owns the parents. She and her husband brought the pair to Denver from England on their last trip to the Continent. The mama just had puppies, and I arranged to have one of them for you. I wanted to give you something, a token of my affection, so you’d never forget me even after you left. That way, you’d think of my proposal every time you looked at her.”

  His explanation charmed her as she took the tiny dog. “I would have thought of you even without you going to such a great deal of trouble.”

  “It was no trouble. Do you like her?”

  “Of course… but I do confess, I know nothing about dogs. What do I have to do to care for her?”

  “Feed her and make sure she—” He colored. “Well, you do need to make sure she goes outdoors a number of times every day. Constitutionals, on a regular basis. She… that is, dogs don’t use privies.”

  Emma’s cheeks sizzled. “Ah… er—what does she eat?”

  Joshua seemed relieved to discuss anything but the dog’s private functions, and they spent the next while discussing the care of Emma’s new companion. It never occurred to her to think how she would transport the dog to Portland until her new fiancé was gone.

  “Look, Papa!” she cried after Joshua had left. “Look what he brought for me.”

  Emma’s surprised father gave her pointers on how to care for her new pet, adding on to what her fiancé had said, even though Papa warned her against the inconvenience she was undertaking. Emma insisted she could handle the trip with a baby animal in her care.

  “How much trouble could she be?” she asked. “Look. She’s so darling and tiny.”

  A brief while later, the reverend and his wife arrived. Emma and her luggage—the huge steamer trunk, four hatboxes, Aunt Sophia’s large picnic basket to serve as a home for the dog, Emma’s travel satchel, and a small leather reticule—were loaded onto the carriage. Fortunately, neither the reverend nor his wife had much luggage. Neither did the elderly other passenger, Mr. Birmingham, who slept through the commotion.

  Mrs. Strong’s mud-colored eyes widened more and more with each item piled higher. But it wasn’t until the basket with the excited yapping puppy came out to the front stoop that she said anything.

  “Surely you aren’t bringing that… that creature with us, are you?”

  Emma frowned. “But, of course. My… fiancé gave her to me. I wouldn’t think of leaving her behind.”

  Mrs. Strong’s eyebrows nearly vanished under the stick-stiff fringe of hair on her forehead at the mention of a betrothal, but she only sighed. “Oh, dear. That’s unfortunate. I do hope she’s well-trained, at the very least. I can’t imagine anything worse than an undisciplined animal. Especially on a long trip in an enclosed vehicle.”

  Papa arched a brow, giving Emma a questioning look. “Are yo
u sure about this?”

  Emma tipped up her chin. “Yes, Papa. I know what I’m doing.”

  “I hope so, Princess. I certainly do.”

  They hugged, Emma overcome with an unexpected pang of fear.

  What if—

  She shook off the unwelcome sensation. “I love you, Papa. Do take care of all that business soon. I can’t bear the thought of missing you for too long.”

  “I love you, too, my darling girl.” He cupped a hand over the back of her head, bringing her close. “Are you sure you wouldn’t rather come to Paris and Marseilles with Joshua and me—”

  “No, no.” She pulled away, tucked the handle of the dog’s basket into the crook of her elbow, and smiled. “I’ll be fine. I promise. And once you’re home in Portland again, we’ll have such wonderful fun planning my wedding. You’ll see.”

  “May our Lord bless you, Emma,” he said a moment later, a hint of dampness in his eyes. “Don’t ever forget how precious you are to me. I wouldn’t know what to do with myself, should anything ever happen to you.”

  “Don’t fret, Papa, please. Do enjoy your trip. I plan to enjoy mine.”

  “Let us earnestly pray we all can enjoy our trip,” Mrs. Strong piped up. With a huff, she gave Emma a disapproving glare as she stepped back up into the carriage.

  Emma sighed, took the driver’s extended hand then followed her chaperone.

  The dog gave a cheery little yip.

  “And please make sure your animal doesn’t do that all the way out West,” the pastor’s wife added.

  Emma figured it wouldn’t hurt to take advantage of the perfect moment to commend the trip to God.

  Chapter 2

  Emma sighed.

  Pippa, the puppy, yipped.

  Mrs. Strong snorted—yet again.

  Would they ever get to Portland?

  The carriage hit a bump, sending Emma flying off her seat. The picnic basket where Pippa had spent her voyage followed suit, and both landed at the feet of the reverend’s wife. Pippa was unharmed. The woman was not amused.

  Neither was Emma.

  Why had Papa ever thought this would be a good idea? Up until this time, she’d always traveled to Portland by rail, a far wiser and much more efficient way to get there, in her opinion.

  Bouncing and jouncing over rutted ground, closed up in a box not very unlike the one where her new pet had been all this long, long while, didn’t strike Emma as any way to travel. Her bottom was sore from the hard, seemingly padded-with-rocks seat, and now her knees would surely be bruised from her rough landing on the floor.

  She scrambled back onto the seat with its dry, cracked leather, and set her dog on her lap one more time. Drawing a deep breath, and sending up the random plea for heavenly help, she leaned forward and peeked out. Disappointed, she plopped back down. Nothing even remotely resembling a village, much less a city, not to mention Portland, Oregon, was anywhere in sight. No, she couldn’t see Bountiful anymore, the tiny town where they’d spent the night before. Rugged landscape, stark in its wild beauty, full of rocks and the rare scattered spurt of vegetation, did nothing to inspire so much as hope in Emma. Neither did the hill they’d begun to climb. All she could see was the hilly terrain cut through by the rutted road.

  She sighed.

  Clutching the handle of the picnic basket in one hand, she used the other to pat a loose strand of curling auburn hair back into place. She then pulled her smart silver watch from the jacket pocket of her nice amber and caramel velvet traveling suit. The ever-so-soft fabric by now looked sad and saggy, and even the black satin piping on the edges of the jacket lapels, sleeve bottoms, and outlining either side of the flat front gore of the skirt had lost its elegant luster. The lace at the neck and down the front of her buttercream-colored blouse had given up the fight nearly from the start.

  Emma shifted her weight from one hip to the other, wishing there were a comfortable position to be found. Her shoulder blade pressed uncomfortably against the seat back. She wriggled. No improvement.

  Her temple began to throb.

  She drew a deep breath then wished she hadn’t. The carriage’s close quarters were dreadfully stuffy.

  She pulled her watch out again. The shiny hand had moved only a hair.

  “Why don’t you try reading a while?” Mrs. Strong said as Emma slid her watch back. “Here’s my Bible. I’m sure you can find an edifying passage to help you pass the time.”

  Emma gauged the size and heft of the solid book of Scripture and shook her head. “I do thank you. I certainly could do with some devotional time. However, I don’t think you’re prepared to hold my dog, are you?”

  At the woman’s look of horror, Emma smiled. “I’m sure you agree I can’t hold that copy of the Good Book and the dog’s basket at the same time.”

  That seemed to put an end to that suggestion, but it did nothing to help Emma’s boredom. The long trip had grown tiresome to an extreme.

  A while later she awoke from a brief nap. From the slight tilt of the carriage she could tell their climb had grown steeper, so she craned forward against the angle to peer out the side window. To her surprise, the rough road, which she again felt as the wheels jounced in and out of holes, was surrounded by tall evergreens. At that moment, she realized the air around them had grown cooler than it had felt earlier in their day’s journey.

  “Where are we?” she asked.

  “Going up the mountains in the eastern part of Oregon,” Reverend Strong answered.

  “Up? The eastern part?” she repeated, disappointed.

  “ ’Fraid so.” He had the usual bland expression on his plain face.

  As though to comment, Pippa whimpered again. Emma came close to joining her, but soon recognized the cries as the blessing they truly were. They had been traveling for two weeks now, eight hours a day. Aside from their less-than-luxurious overnights and stops to change horses in odd locales, the pup’s constitutionals had provided her only breaks during the otherwise dreadful, monotonous trip.

  “Oh, dear!” She fought to keep the relief out of her voice and expression. “It appears that Pippa must… um… go outside again. Her constitutional, you understand.”

  Reverend Strong nodded absently.

  Mrs. Strong pursed her lips and sniffed.

  Emma pounded the front of the carriage with her umbrella, a spot right between the couple’s heads, as she and the driver had agreed she should do whenever Pippa needed a stop. Moments later, the carriage halted.

  Mr. Schwartz opened the door. He held out a hand for the puppy’s basket. “Here we go, miss.”

  Emma scrambled out by way of the trim set of wooden steps the driver set up for her, more than ready to escape Mrs. Strong’s judgmental stare. How she missed Aunt Sophia. While the two of them didn’t always see eye-to-eye on all of Emma’s ideas, her aunt at the very least listened with goodwill. The other woman in Emma’s life, Ophelia, didn’t agree often, but she also didn’t bother with stony silences. If she objected to something Emma had concocted, she let everyone in the vicinity know, and in no uncertain terms. The chilly disapproval to which the reverend’s wife had treated Emma from the very start was most difficult to handle.

  “You might want your cloak, miss,” Mr. Schwartz called out, holding the becoming, hunter green wool garment in Emma’s direction. With the wind blowing hard and nippy all around, whistling through the thick canopy of boughs overhead, she hurried back and snagged it, grateful for its stylish cover.

  Swirled in the supple wool, Emma picked her way through the dense underbrush, careful not to catch her heels in nature’s carpet of debris. When she figured she’d gone far enough to remain discreetly hidden from view of the other passengers, unwilling to have them watch her dog perform her… er… functions, she opened the picnic basket, tied the rope she was using to keep Pippa under control around the puppy’s neck, and then placed her lovely little pet on the ground.

  Pippa pranced daintily over slender dead branches, piles of old, dam
p leaves, and the occasional large rock. To Emma’s dismay, bits of twig and scraps of leaf clung to the pup’s pristine, snowy curls as she moved, and her paws went from white to a dingy shade of dirt.

  From the direction of the carriage came the sound of voices raised in agitated conversation. It appeared the men were engaged in some sort of disagreement, which surprised Emma, since the mild-mannered man of God didn’t strike her as endowed with much of a temper. Mr. Schwartz, too, had been nothing if not friendly and pleasant, and the elderly Mr. Birmingham, the fourth passenger in their company, had done nothing but slumber and snore the greater part of the way.

  A horse’s shrill whinny pierced the forest peace.

  The male voices sharpened, rang out angrier.

  Emma stayed put to avoid the altercation.

  “Pal-merrrrrr!” Mrs. Strong cried out.

  Pippa darted deeper into the woods.

  Reverend Strong answered in a muffled voice. Although his voice grew fainter as Emma followed her dog, the distant complaint of his wife’s words followed her still. “Palmer Strong,” the woman whined, “I tell you right now…”

  A flurry of disparate sounds followed—more whinnying, more yelling, more whining, hooves striking packed earth. Though the crisp air felt refreshing after the stuffy carriage, Emma realized she couldn’t stay out in the elements much longer, no matter how determined she was to avoid the unpleasantness. Besides, her presence and normally cheery nature might perhaps calm things a tad. That would only be to the good. She still had a long way to travel in the company of these people.

  “Can’t say the prospect appeals,” she told her little dog when she scooped her up. Pippa tipped her head as though giving serious consideration to her mistress’s words. “But it can’t be helped, now can it?”

  A moment later, Pippa objected to being stuffed in the basket again.

  “This can’t be helped either.” Regret rang in Emma’s voice. “But you just wait until we’re home in Portland, little missy. Ophelia and Jedediah will simply love to spoil you.”

  Setting aside her natural aversion to conflict, she headed back the way she’d come. She carried on her chat with Pippa, who let out occasional yips, in her own way holding up her end of the conversation. After a while of steady marching, Emma started to question her sense of direction. She felt certain she’d now walked farther than she’d gone in the first place. Just as worry nipped the edges of her equanimity, she heard men’s voices again and changed direction. This time, however, the discord was far more heated and considerably harsher than what she’d earlier heard.