by Sweet Annie
The night before the wedding, Annie couldn’t sleep. She’d lain awake for hours, staring at the moonlight on the ceiling and telling herself all the reasons why she shouldn’t be worried. Finally, she got up, donned her flannel wrapper, and went out to the kitchen to see if any warm water remained.
A sound from the other room startled her, and she limped into the sitting room where a soft light glowed.
Her mother sat in an elegant velvet-upholstered chair, her hair down around her shoulders.
“Mother? Are you all right?”
“I’m fine.”
“I wasn’t going to bother to make tea just for myself, but if you’ll join me I’ll kindle the fire in the stove.”
“I’ve already brewed a pot. Help yourself.”
“Oh.” Annie hadn’t noticed the silver service on the low table. Only Mildred Sweetwater would prepare tea in a silver pot in the middle of the night. She poured herself a cup and sat on the divan. “This feels good. It’s a chilly night.”
Her mother stared at the embers in the fireplace.
“Did you have trouble sleeping, too?” Annie asked.
“I haven’t slept a night since this ordeal began.”
“I assume you mean since Luke’s been courting me.”
“Courting,” she sniffed. “I haven’t seen flowers or gifts.”
“He’s spending all his money on our house and furnishings, Mother.”
“Harrummph.”
“Why won’t you give us a chance?”
“Because I don’t want to be disappointed,” she said stiffly. “Like you’re going to be disappointed.” She raised a hand and flicked her fingers. “When all your fanciful dreams go up in smoke. When you discover he can’t take care of you like we can.” She arched one brow and delivered a stinging prediction. “When you can’t please him.”
Chapter Twelve
Annie mulled those words over. Couldn’t please him? “What do you mean?”
“Men are carnal creatures, Annie. Their tastes are not as delicate as a woman’s. And you—you’re just a girl.”
Annie’s lungs burned when she drew a deep breath. “Are you speaking of passion, Mother? Because I want Luke as badly as he wants me.”
“Maybe you do, little girl. But will his supposed love for you last? If a crippled girl can’t keep up with a strong man while walking or running, how will you please him intimately?”
Pain twisted in Annie’s chest. She set her cup down so hard, liquid splashed over the edge onto her mother’s starched and pressed doily. She wanted to cover her ears and refuse to listen to this foolishness and cruelty. “I don’t—I don’t think that comparison is fair. Yes, he’s strong and he’s healthy, but he’s tender and—and he’s loving.”
“You’re not listening to me,” Mildred said, her voice once again low. “You’ve never wanted to listen to reason. Do what you like, what you’re determined to do, but don’t cry to me when you learn I was right.”
Annie scooted to the edge of the chair. “You’re not right. He loves me. He sees me as a whole person.”
“Believe what you must.”
Annie stood. In the dim light of the lamp, she stared at her mother for a full minute, but the unrepentant woman met her gaze with icy superiority. “Thank you so much for your gracious help and motherly guidance. A woman always remembers her wedding, and I will remember that you refused to take the smallest measure to support me.”
“I’m not going to be responsible when this ‘marriage’ breaks your heart.”
“That would be impossible. You have already done that.” Annie limped from the room, wishing she could walk gracefully, knowing this was the best her gait would ever be, and praying her mother was wrong about everything else.
She sat on the edge of her bed until dawn crept under the window shades and cast a tangerine glow on the floral carpet. A knock sounded once the sun was up.
Had her mother had a change of heart? “Come in.”
Glenda peered around the door. “Morning. Did you sleep?”
“Maybe a wink or two.”
“I was the same way, I was so excited.”
“You’re not usually here on Saturday.”
Glenda came toward her. “I heated water for your bath and I’ll help you wash your hair and dry it.”
Annie stood, holding the hem of her night-rail and hugged the other woman. “Thank you,” she managed to say in a throaty voice.
Glenda led her to the bathing chamber off the kitchen where she had a fire going in the fireplace and hot water steaming in the copper tub. “Here are your bath salts and your lilac water. There’s a stack of clean toweling.”
Annie smiled her appreciation and Glenda turned away while Annie removed her cotton gown and stepped into the water. The tub had only been filled half-full because Glenda had several buckets of warm water ready for the rinse.
Annie lathered her hair and Glenda poured water over her head. Once she was bathed and wrapped in a warm robe, they sat before the fire and Glenda gently worked the tangles from her hair and helped it dry.
“I wish I could brush some of these curls out for good,” Annie said.
“No, no, don’t brush them out—let them spring. The charm of your lovely hair is the way it curls around your face and neck. Us ordinary-looking women would give anything for hair like yours.” She finger-wove a few spirals into place.
Annie held up her silver-backed hand mirror. “I’ve always thought this mop was atrocious because it wasn’t dark and lovely like Mother’s.”
“Your mother is beautiful, but you have a beauty all your own. Inside and out.”
Their eyes met and neither said any more about Mildred. “Luke thinks I’m beautiful.”
“He’s right.”
The doorbell sounded.
“I’ll get that.” Glenda hurried from the room and returned with Charmaine.
“Oh, Annie, I’m so excited, I think I’m going to burst! How can you look so calm?”
Annie laughed at her cousin’s exuberance. “Lack of sleep perhaps?”
“Let’s go get you dressed.”
Glenda remained to clean up the bathing chamber while Charmaine led Annie to her room. Charmaine helped her pack her belongings and Glenda went for Tim who took the trunks and boxes to the livery.
Hours later, dressed in her white satin gown and slippers, the beaded headband and veil upon her head, Annie emerged from her room and met her father in the foyer. Dressed in a black frock coat and striped trousers, he made a dashing picture.
Eldon stared at Annie, his expression softening and his eyes misting with unshed tears. “You are so beautiful, my daughter.”
“Thank you, Daddy. Thank you for everything.” She swept forward in a rustle of silk to give him a careful hug and a peck on the cheek.
“All I want is for you to be happy.”
“Luke makes me happy.”
Clearing his throat against the tide of emotion, he nodded.
Annie voiced her newest concern. “I don’t want to take that dreadful chair, but there is only one doorway—the one at the back of the church. Would I be too cumbersome in this dress for you to carry me up the aisle?”
“Carry you?” His brows shot up in surprise. “Why on earth would I carry you?”
“Well, so I don’t have to—to walk down the aisle in front of all those people, of course.”
His expression grew stern. “Suddenly you don’t want to walk in front of people? Nothing stopped you from walking across the floor at the social hall in front of a hundred eyes. What’s different about this?”
“This is my wedding! I don’t want everyone to see how clumsy I am.” Her mother’s criticism had raised her self-consciousness.
“Do you want to appear fragile? Incapable?” He made a clucking sound. “I’m shocked.”
She stared, amazed at the challenging words he’d spoken. “Are you telling me to walk down the aisle in front of the whole population of Copper Creek?”
He raised his chin. “With your head held high.”
Of course. She wanted to walk down the aisle to her husband. “You’re right, Daddy.” Tears blurred her vision and he handed her a handkerchief. “Thank you.”
He turned and called up the stairwell. “It’s time to leave, Mildred!”
Annie’d been wondering all along if her mother would actually attend, but there was no room for argument in her father’s authoritative tone.
Mildred appeared at the top of the stairs in a lavender silk taffeta gown that emphasized her slender waist and dark hair. She examined Annie as she descended the stairs, her gaze neither approving nor disapproving. Annie knew she’d chosen well, from her elbow-length gloves to her slippers and veil, but she didn’t expect her mother’s approval at this late date.
“Your mother and I have something for you.” Eldon turned to the cherry table behind him and picked up a small flat box, which he handed to Annie.
Inside the silk-lined jewelry case lay an elegant pearl choker. “It’s beautiful!” Annie breathed.
“It was my mother’s.” Her father placed it around her neck, fastening the clasp, and stepping back to admire the pearls.
“Thank you.”
Her mother said nothing, merely picked up her hem and started forward.
Once she was out of hearing, Eldon asked, “Does the chair go at all?”
Annie shook her head. “No. I don’t want that chair spoiling anything about this day.”
“Very well.”
Charmaine was waiting on the porch, and in no time they were in the buggy and on their way in the warm fall sunshine.
Leaves crunched beneath the wheels as Eldon drove the buggy to the steps of the church and got out to assist the women.
Burdell and Diana had been waiting, and Burdy stepped forward. “Oh, Annie, you look beautiful!” Diana said from beside him. “Doesn’t she?”
Burdell nodded. “Are you sure, Annie? It’s not too late to call this off. I can go send everyone away if you say the word.”
“This is what I want, Burdy,” she replied. “Thank you for being here. It means more than you know.”
He offered his arm until she neared the church building, then left to move the buggy for his father. Diana and Charmaine ushered Annie into the tiny cloakroom where they stood amongst the scents of leather and wool until Burdell returned and the organist began the first notes of the wedding march.
Charmaine nodded to the two young ushers and they opened the polished doors. Annie’s father secured her hand in the crook of his arm and gave her a reassuring smile.
He proceeded slowly and Annie raised her chin and took step after step, feeling every critical eye on her awkward advance. Step-limp. Step-limp.
Luke came into sharp focus, a half-smile slashing his handsome cheek, his blue eyes intent on her approach. From that moment on, no one else mattered, nothing mattered, not even the fact that she would never be graceful, nothing except that from this day forward she would be Luke Carpenter’s wife.
He wore the same proud expression he’d worn the night she’d crossed the dance floor and asked him to teach her to dance. Her heart fluttered crazily at the devotion in his eyes.
Eldon took her gloved hand, kissed the back, and placed it in Luke’s waiting palm, gave the younger man a cautioning glance, then took his place in the first pew beside his wife. Annie’s gaze moved from her parents to her almost-husband.
The rest of the ceremony progressed in a blur of prayers and vows and tears and kisses. Taking Luke’s hand, she walked beside him up the aisle to the door and, once outdoors, good-naturedly ducked a shower of rice.
Bending his knees, he swept her into his arms and carried her toward the social hall. Grateful for the rest, she wrapped her arm around his neck and smiled into his face.
“We did it, Annie,” he said. “We really did it.”
With tears blurring her vision, she nodded, and they shared a moment of silent pleasure. Annie laid her head against his shoulder and sighed.
He carried her into the building and found her a chair.
“The musicians are already setting up,” she observed.
He crouched before her and took her hand. “You are so beautiful.”
She gazed into his earnest blue eyes. “And your eyes are so blue.”
He grinned. “I reckon we’ll have beautiful blue-eyed children, won’t we?”
Her heart missed a beat. She glanced around at the women busily uncovering food and arranging cups and silverware, at the pile of gifts on a lace-draped table. “All this is really happening to me—lame Annie Sweetwater. I had a wedding and a cake and I have a husband just like any normal girl.”
Luke raised her hand and his thumb touched the gold ring he’d placed on her finger.
Casting her attention back to the man before her, she corrected her words: “Better than any normal girl—because I’ve married the handsomest, kindest, bluest-eyed man in all of Copper Creek.”
He grinned and she touched his cheek.
“Come on, you have lots of time for that,” Charmaine called. “You two have to fill your plates first.”
“I’ll get yours,” Luke said, releasing her hand and standing.
While Luke was gone Burdell approached. He took a seat beside her and watched Luke at the food table. After a minute he said, “If he ever hurts you—”
“He would never hurt me, Burdy.”
“I’m just telling you. If he ever does, you come to me. I’ll kill him.”
Remembering who had pounded who during their last scuffle, Annie held back a smile. “I would come to you,” she said somberly.
“Okay.” He placed his hands on his knees.
“Okay,” Annie agreed.
Burdell sat a moment longer, then got up and strode away.
Later, when the newlyweds opened gifts, Annie exclaimed over the generosity of her neighbors. Of course her father was the local banker and she had to wonder how much effect that had on people’s pocketbooks.
Glenda and her girls had sewn aprons and dishtowels. The Renlows gave them a mantel clock, and Burdell and Diana bestowed a set of silverware that Annie knew had been of Diana’s choosing. Among the other gifts were blankets and barrels, skillets and dishes, fabric and a rocking chair. Mrs. Krenshaw gave them books, and Lizzy and Guy had purchased them a painted glass lamp.
Annie was overwhelmed at the amount of household items they now had to take to their little house. From time to time she thought about leaving the party tonight and going to that new house with her new husband, and a wave of nerves would make her hands cold.
A tall, handsome man with black hair graying at the temples shook Luke’s hand and then gave him a hug, clapping him on the back.
“Annie, this is my Uncle Gil,” Luke told her, stepping back.
“Gilbert Chapman,” his uncle said with a friendly nod.
Annie extended her hand. “I’m pleased to officially meet you. I do remember seeing you the day you came to my birthday party.”
“None of us will ever forget that day, will we?” he said with a wry grin that reminded Annie of Luke’s devastating smile.
“I certainly never forgot,” Annie said. “Luke takes after you. Were you his father’s brother?”
Gil nodded. “He was a few years older. We were close as young’uns, but didn’t keep in touch much after we had our own lives. I was sorry about that after he died. But I was glad to have Luke here come to live with me. He was good company for a lot o’ years. I guess you’re going to find that out.”
What a likable man. No wonder Luke thought so highly of him. “I guess I am.”
“I’ll bring your present by next week,” he told Luke. “I couldn’t bring it here today.”
They visited a while longer until Gil spotted someone he wanted to talk to. She didn’t have time to wonder why he couldn’t bring their present.
Annie was truly the belle of the ball that afternoon. Everyone wished
her well and spoke to her, and when the dancing began she declined a dozen offers, wanting to dance only with Luke, who compensated for her lack of agility and made her feel competent.
“Are you getting tired?” he asked during one of their turns around the floor. “Are your legs holding up?”
“I’m all right,” she assured him, not wanting to hold him back from enjoying their wedding celebration.
“You know,” he said against her hair, “it’s customary for the bride and groom to leave a little early. We can go anytime.”
Glancing over his shoulder, she spotted her mother seated between two other wives, but not participating in their conversation. Mildred’s attention was focused unhappily on Annie and Luke. Her ominous predictions rang in Annie’s head.
Annie blocked them out and concentrated on Luke’s suggestion and her joy over this new life for which she’d been so eager. “I guess I’m a little tired,” she told him. “I didn’t sleep last night.”
“Let’s start saying our goodbyes, then.”
Luke worked them to the edge of the floor and inconspicuously told a few people they were leaving.
“Do you want to come back for your presents tomorrow or shall we bring them to you?” Guy Halverson asked Luke.
“Burt’s taking care of the livery tomorrow,” Luke replied. “I appreciate the offer, if you don’t mind.”
“Are you kidding? Lizzy’s been dying to see your house.”
Luke shook Guy’s hand.
Annie caught her father’s eye and waved. Eldon strode toward her. He and Luke stared at each other, neither of them speaking. Finally Annie stepped forward and hugged her father.
His arms closed around her convulsively. “You were a beautiful bride, Annie,” he said, his voice sounding choked.
She released him, moved back and took Luke’s hand, noting that her mother deliberately turned aside and folded a tablecloth.
Charmaine brought their coats and Annie slipped hers on, but carried Luke’s. At the door, he picked her up and carried her to the area where the horses and buggies waited and lifted her to the seat. “Want your coat?”