by Carré White
“Oh, my goodness gracious!” It was truly going to happen! “I best get ready then.”
“Come sit on this crate, so I can make your hair pretty.” I did as she asked, while she brushed the loose curls, placing a series of pretty white flowers down one side, holding them in place with pins. “Oh, this is just fine. So simple and lovely.”
A woman approached, holding a bouquet of wild flowers. “Here you are. My daughter picked these for you.”
“Thank you.” Seeing her confirmed that everyone was indeed waiting for me, and there would be a ceremony.
“This is finished now,” said Mary. “Let’s hope the weather holds out, so it isn’t ruined. I don’t want a gust of wind to spoil everything.”
I glanced at her over my shoulder. “I’m nervous.”
“There’s nothing to be nervous of.”
“My parents aren’t here. They’ll be disappointed they couldn’t see me walk down the aisle.” I had a thought. “But, then again, they weren’t able to see my sister, Hannah, get married either. Her first husband died of sickness, the poor man. Then she married someone else.”
“You can write to them as soon as you are able and tell them all about it.”
“I’ll have lots of letters to write now.”
“You can press some of the flowers in paper for a memento as well. They’ll appreciate seeing that. It’s a small token, but we’re hardly able to do more.”
“Good idea.”
“Now then, we’re ready.”
“I’m as ready as I’ll ever be.”
Abner appeared without his hat. His hair had been combed back. He wore a blue sack coat and necktie, which was a surprise. “I’m walking you down the aisle, girl. I hope you don’t mind.”
I beamed. “Thank you.” Then I thought of something. “Who will be my maid of honor?”
“Who do you want?”
“Would you be kind enough?” I glanced at Mary.
“Certainly, my dear. I’d be honored.”
“What about bridesmaids?”
“There are a few ladies who have already volunteered. Helen organized it.”
“That’s so thoughtful.”
“Well, then, Paulina,” said Abner, holding out his arm. “We shouldn’t keep these good folks waitin’ another minute.”
“No, we shouldn’t.”
We strolled through tall grass, while the heat of the midday sun beat down upon our heads. Amidst the bleached canvas cloths of the wagons and the interested faces of the settlers, children amongst them, I made my way towards the Reverend Jeremiah Kelley and a small group of men. Among them was Samuel, who had combed his hair back, looking more handsome than ever. He was hatless, as were Tom Meek and William Baker. They stood on either side of him. Samuel grinned when he saw me; his expression was everything I had hoped for. If he had cold feet, it didn’t show in the least. The violinist began to play the wedding march, which surprised me. I hadn’t been expecting music, but the lilting, sober melody suddenly made the experience very real. Mary and Helen and several women walked before me, as they were my bridesmaids. I waited for my turn, holding onto Abner’s arm, while my tummy buzzed with excitement, feeling like a belly full of grasshoppers.
Once we began to walk, I glanced around, seeing the happy faces of everyone who had gathered to wish us well. These people had been complete strangers only weeks ago, but I was acquainted with most of them today. We had been through so much together, river crossings, sickness, death, and birth, as Jane Porter had her baby only a week ago. She’d given birth in a moving wagon.
As I neared, Samuel grinned; his eyes were filled with warmth, the light of affection shining in their depths. He’d worn his best trousers and a gray sack coat with a striped necktie.
“Welcome everyone,” said Jeremiah. “Today we celebrate the union of these two people, Mr. Samuel Wayne Tucker and Ms. Paulina Marie Hoffman.”
I stared at Samuel while the preacher spoke, realizing that my nervousness had slipped away. The steady, confident look on his face melted whatever doubt I might have had. A strange calm came over me. It was the peace of knowing that I had made the right decision.
“…this day of our Lord, June 15, 1860. We shall bear witness to the holy union of these two people, who have committed themselves to one another…”
My life would never be the same after today. I’d been preparing for this event since I was born, my mother saving things in a trunk for me, although I had left them behind. But, perhaps one day, I would see them again.
“The bonds of marriage are sacred and holy and should not be broken. Yet you will find yourself tested, as every relationship is faced with temptation, strife, and the challenges of every day life. Let not these influences diminish the commitment you have made today. Will your loved ones and family remind you of these holy bonds and the promise you have made to each other in times of stress?” The crowd murmured its agreement. “If anyone knows of any lawful impediment, as to why these two should not be joined in marriage, please speak now or forever hold your peace.” When silence reigned, he said, “I don’t expect you have the rings, do you?”
“No, sir.”
“That’s fine. You may say your vows now.”
The groom cleared his throat. “I, Samuel Wayne Tucker, take thee, Paulina Marie Hoffman, to be my lawful wedded wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better for worse, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death us do part, according to God’s holy ordinance; and thereto I plight thee my troth.”
Now I was nervous, worried that I would forget or stumble over the words. I’d been practicing all morning, trying to remember them. “I, Paulina Marie Hoffman, take thee, Samuel Wayne Tucker, to be my lawful wedded husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better for worse, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love, cherish, and to obey, till death us do part, according to God’s holy ordinance: and thereto I give thee my troth.”
The preacher beamed. “By the power vested in me by the Territory of Kansas, I now proclaim you man and wife. Congratulations.”
Cheers rang out, while Samuel gazed at me, his smile contagious. He took my hand, bringing the fingers to his lips. “You look beautiful.”
“Thank you for marrying me.”
He shook his head. “I hope you know what you got yourself into, sweetheart. My mother would hardly consider me a catch, being the black sheep of the family.”
“I’m looking forward to meeting them.” He could find humor at a time like this.
Tom and William approached, offering congratulations, as did Helen and Mary. Abner grinned proudly, having successfully given me away. I would have to mention all of this in my letters, committing the event to memory. The sounds of the violin, which had begun to play again, and the happiness I felt would stay with me forever. We stood in the middle of nowhere, fields of green stretched out towards the horizon, as mountains stood in the distance. There were miles of road ahead of us today, the journey far from over, and yet, mine had only just begun.
“I’m sorry this was so short,” said Samuel. “I know it’s not what you wanted.”
“Don’t say that. I loved every second of it. It was beautiful.”
His stare was direct. “It is.”
“I wish we were already done for the day.”
An eyebrow shot up. “Is that so?”
“Oh, stop it. You know what I mean.”
“I most certainly do.”
“You’re incorrigible,” I giggled.
“And as beautiful as you are, you look tired. You’re still recovering, honey. I’ll take you to your wagon. Have you had lunch yet?”
“No.” The crowd had begun to disperse; using what little time we had left to cook a quick meal. “I was busy getting ready.”
“I wish it could’ve been better, like with family and a real church.”
“It was fine.”
“I don’t even have a r
ing for you.”
“We’ll get one later.” He helped me onto the wagon, where I climbed over the seat. While I changed, he waited for me.
“Hurry up, so I can kiss you goodbye.”
“I’ll be right out.” I emerged wearing a stained calico dress. I tied the sash of the bonnet under my chin. “My goodness, you’re impatient.”
“I’ve got sick people to attend to.”
Now I felt bad. “How many?”
“Four at the moment. I keep tellin’ ‘em to boil the water, and I’m wondering if anyone is listening.”
I climbed down from a small step. “You can only do what you can do, Sam.” Mary approached. He noted her as well.
“Since we’re lawfully wed, I do believe that means I can kiss my wife whenever I want.”
A thrill shot through me. “Yes, you can.”
He drew me into his arms, grinning. “I could get used to taking liberties. I might be doin’ it several times a day…at least.” His lips met mine, while I closed my eyes, enjoying the nearness. I hadn’t anticipated the passion this would spark, but it quickly became heated, as his tongue invaded my mouth.
“Oh, Sam.”
“We have to get our own wagon,” he growled.
“Yes, you do,” said Mary. She chuckled, grinning at us. “I’ve got some dried buffalo and graham bread. You should eat something.”
“We’ve got tonight,” he whispered, his breath warm in my ear. “It’s all I’ll be thinking about today.”
I shivered pleasurably. He wasn’t the only one imagining such things.
Once the fires were put out and tents packed, we were on our way again, the wagons beginning to move, forming a lengthy line. The minutes felt like hours, every mile a lesson in patience. I alternated between napping and sitting with Mary, while Abner walked. Sam and William rode by occasionally, checking the wagons further down the line. I felt a thrill every time I saw my husband, knowing that we would finally be alone once evening came. Hours later, when we turned from the road and formed a wide circle, my body hummed with anticipation.
Samuel had set up our tent and prepared a fire. Children ran around, while the miners engaged in a game of cards, laughing and shouting. A fiddle played, the music adding to the relaxed atmosphere at camp. We had positioned ourselves near the river; the sound of rushing water was inviting. Some of the settlers had used this opportunity to take a bath, as they had disappeared down the embankment carrying towels.
The hours of travel had taken their toll on me, along with the excitement of the wedding. I wished I weren’t as exhausted as I was, my gaze straying to the tent often, wanting to lie down. Samuel had brought back a pheasant, hunting with several men, the crack of gunfire shattering the solitude. He prepared the meal, frying the meat in the skillet, while I boiled water. There were beans as well, and we ate companionably, sitting on crates near the fire. Once the meal had been consumed, we wandered down to the river, finding several people bathing. If I had been feeling better, I would have joined them, but I had to be satisfied with washing my face and arms, careful not to drink the water.
Samuel held my hand, leading me back to our tent, which I longed to be in. He seemed to sense my exhaustion, throwing dirt on the fire, putting it out at once. I crawled inside, unbuttoning the dress while removing my boots. I wasn’t alone, as Samuel sat beside me, watching with a concerned expression. Discarding the corset, I rolled the stockings down, removing the garters. Dressed only in my shift, I met his gaze.
“I’m not sure what you expect tonight.”
He tossed his coat in a corner. “You’re still recovering, Paulina. I don’t expect anything, but it sure is nice to be alone with you.”
I lay on the bedroll, the softness a comfort. We had combined our things; now there were two layers instead of only one. “We can talk, if you want.”
He drew me into his arms. “I’ll follow your lead.”
“Kisses are nice.” I lifted my chin to see his face. “Nothing wrong with kisses.”
“No, ma’am.”
I yawned. “I’m sorry.”
“No apologies.”
My hand rested on his chest, feeling the warmth of his skin through the shirt he wore. “You’re far too sweet, Sam.”
“You say that now. Wait till I’m all riled up and angry about something. You won’t find me so sweet then.”
“I’ve got a streak of that myself.”
His lips were on my forehead. “I thought you were gonna die.”
“I didn’t.”
“You could’ve. You’ve no idea how dangerous cholera is. I’ve got four people fighting for their lives right now.”
“Do you need to go to them?”
“They’re looked after. I just worry. I want to minimize the casualties. I don’t want any at all. These people are my responsibility.”
Despite his rough exterior, I had married an honorable man. I couldn’t have felt prouder of him in that moment. “You’ve done an admirable job, Sam. No one would think you didn’t care.” Our eyes met, the look meaningful.
“Now I gotta worry about you.”
“What do you mean? I’m on the mend.”
“I know, but we’ll be sayin’ goodbye to each other after Independence Rock. I’m headin’ for Fort Hall and the California Trail. I gotta get half these people over the Sierra Nevada Range, and it ain’t ever pretty. That’s some rough travelin’. Then I gotta come back that way.”
“I wish I could go with you. I promised my sister—”
“You’re gonna keep your promise. I’ll come find you after I’ve seen the elephant.”
I snuggled into his chest, finding the embrace comforting. “Oh, Sam. We’ll be apart for months.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
The hardships we would endure were daunting. He could perish easily at any point; the Rockies were formidable, as were the barren deserts of Nevada.
“We got a coupla weeks, sweetheart.” He kissed the top of my head. “Don’t go cryin’ about it now.”
“I’m not crying.”
“You won’t miss me then?”
I glanced up to find him smiling. “Yes, I’ll miss you.”
“It’s been said that separations always make for the best reunions.”
“I’m going to work doubly hard tomorrow to get better, because I want us to be…as close as possible. We only have a few weeks.”
“Now you’re talkin’.” His arms tightened around me. “Get some sleep. We got another river crossing tomorrow, although it shouldn’t be too bad.”
“I didn’t say my prayers.”
“Then say them.”
“God, thank you for seeing me through another day and for looking after me while I was sick. Thank you for bringing Samuel Tucker into my life, and tomorrow night I’m going to show him just how much I love him. Amen.”
Chapter Eleven
Waking next to someone was a peculiar experience. I had turned from Samuel, presenting my back, but his arm was around me. I’d had an incredibly restful night, but the chill of morning brought with it the stark reality of another long day on the road. If only we had our own wagon, but there weren’t any available.
Warm lips were on the back of my neck. “Mornin’.”
“Good morning.”
“You sleep well?”
“Yes, and you?”
“Pretty darn good.”
He stretched, reaching his arms above his head. His beard had grown, all but hiding the bottom portion of his face. Messy hair fell onto his forehead. I turned and rolled into him, inhaling his scent, which was a combination of manly musk and what a campfire smelled like.
“I wish we could stay in one place for a day.”
“Got a schedule to keep.”
“I know.”
“We're doin’ pretty good so far. No disasters happened yet.”
“What disasters have you seen?”
He groaned. “Oxen stampeding for a water source, dragging wagons wi
th ‘em. Those were some thirsty animals. The wagons didn’t fare too well, or the people in them.”
“Oh, my.”
“We had a bad storm once, where there was an enormous funnel cloud. It blew right through the line and picked up three wagons, people and all, throwing them around like they were toys. Six died that day. It was a hell of a storm. Dropped huge chunks of hail too.” He balled up his hand. “They were the size of my fist.”
“Those poor people.”
“Then we’ve had some Indian attacks. They tend to stay away from the big wagon trains, but they have no qualms about attacking smaller groups. It’s why I discourage people from breaking off and going on their own. You’re asking for trouble, if you do that.”
“I see.”
There was a commotion outside the tent, and Samuel sat up. “That’ll be my wake up call.”
“Oh, no.” I grasped his shirt. “Do you have to go?”
His eyes roamed over me. “You sure are pretty first thing in the morning, even with sleep in your eyes.”
“I’ll make us some breakfast. There might be some eggs somewhere.”
“That’ll be fine. Whatever you can round up. I’m not too particular.” He grasped his pants, pulling them over his thighs. “I forgot to say, good mornin’ wife.”
That brought a smile to my face. “Good morning, husband.”
“There’s the spirit.” He kissed my cheek. “Need to clean up by the river. I apologize for not smelling as nice as a bride groom ought to.”
“I don’t care.”
“And it’s a good thing you don’t,” he laughed. Leather boots were drawn over his feet, and he snatched a hat from the back of the tent. “Don’t worry about this. I’ll pull it apart in a few minutes. You just tend the fire, all right?”
“I can do that.”
“Good.”
Once dressed and ready, I left the shelter, finding the morning sun to be shockingly hot already. It was going to be an uncomfortable ride, as not only was the heat extreme, but humidity hung upon us like a heavy blanket. By the water’s edge, I washed my face and neck, thankful for the coolness of the fluid. A woman swam, wearing her shift. I wanted to join her desperately, but I had to hurry and make breakfast.