Gabrielle_Bride of Vermont

by Emily Claire

  Boone stopped himself from slamming his fist into his son’s face, just in time. “Buck? Is that you? What—? Why are you here?”

  Everyone stopped talking at once. Gabrielle grabbed a quilt and wrapped it over her nightgown. “You know him? This is your son?”

  Boone released Buck, who stepped over to the bed and picked up his shirt, rushing to put it on.

  “I’ll light a lamp,” she grumbled, walking angrily from the room.

  “Get some more clothes on and come out to the kitchen,” Boone ordered, none too happy with the situation.

  Gabrielle was in the kitchen, stirring the coals in the stove. It was four o’clock in the morning, and she didn’t expect to be able to go back to sleep, so she slid the already-full kettle over to one side to heat some water.

  Boone came into the room and sat down at the table. “Well, that was unexpected. You all right?”

  Gabrielle stared at him. “Am I all right? I just had a complete stranger crawl into my bed and, and—.” She sputtered, “And, he touched me! No, Boone. I am not all right. I’m fit to be tied.” She grabbed some cups and banged them onto the table, mumbling to herself all the while. “I was sleeping soundly, all by myself, perfectly content. Next thing I know, I wake up to my blankets being tossed aside and some smelly stranger climbing on top of me. All right? I would say I am definitely not all right. I may never be all right again.” She stood next to the stove waiting for the water to get hot, arms crossed in front of her, glaring at Boone.

  Moments later, Buck stumbled into the room, once again wearing his dirty clothes.

  “Good grief, Pa, what were you doing in my bed?” He asked, clearly confused. Next, he turned to the woman he’d never met. “And ma’am, I’m sorry. I had no idea my father had a guest in the house. I saw he was in my bed and just went on down to the other bedroom. His bedroom. All I wanted to do was get some sleep. I mean, how could I possibly know there’d be a woman in his bed!”

  Gabrielle listened to the unkempt stranger who smelled like sweat and dust. His clothes were dirty, his eyes bloodshot and accented by dark circles under them. It was obvious he’d been on the road a while.

  Boone sat quietly and waited for Gabrielle to pour hot tea into their mugs.

  “Let’s all just settle down for a minute now. Does your eye need some attention?” he asked Buck, noticing one eye was already swelling.

  “Nah, it’ll be fine. I’ve had worse.” Buck waved him off.

  “All right, then.” He stood up and walked over to his son, grabbing him into a bear hug. “Welcome home. I’ve missed you.”

  Buck hugged him back. “Thanks, Pa,” he said, softly. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you I was coming. I sort of just got tired of traveling around and headed in this direction. I wanted to surprise you.”

  Gabrielle leaned across the table and slid a cup toward the empty chair, pointing for him to sit. “Well, you may have surprised him all right, but you practically scared the life out of me! My heart’s still pounding.” She extended her hand across the table. “Welcome home. I’m Gabrielle Dillingham.”

  He nodded once, “Ma’am.” His head jerked up in surprise. “Dillingham? Are you my—?” his voice trailed off. “My aunt?”

  Boone and Gabrielle exchanged uncomfortable glances.

  “Not exactly,” said Boone.

  “Definitely no-ooo,” Gabrielle said, quietly exhaling the words.

  Buck looked at his father and then at the beautiful woman who’d been sleeping in his father’s bed. “Then, who? Who are you?” he asked, eyebrows raised.

  Gabrielle didn’t answer. She chose to remain silent. Buck was Boone’s son. It was his responsibility to do the explaining.

  Boone cleared his throat. “Well, Buck. As she said, her name’s Gabrielle Dillingham. And,” he paused, “she’s my wife. That would make her your step-mother. And I’ll echo what she said. Welcome home,” he said, smiling slightly.

  Buck tested the tea in his cup and then took several quick swallows. “All right, then.” Buck let his breath out slowly and placed both on hands on the table, pushing himself up. “I have questions, but I’m not quite sure how to ask them right now. But, I’m pretty sure this probably isn’t the best time to do it.” He paused, thinking. “I’ve been awake a really long time. Couple of days, maybe. How about I go sleep in the barn for a while and we talk later?”

  “No,” Gabrielle interjected. “You don’t have to do that. We’ve got extra bedding. Would you like to sleep on the sofa?”

  “No, thanks. I need a good long rest, and I’m sure whatever story you’ve got for me can wait. The barn’ll be fine, and you won’t have to tiptoe around me. I’ll see y’all sometime later. I’ll grab the bedding on my way out. Good night, or uh, I guess that should be good morning.” He left the room without waiting for a reply from either of the other two.

  Boone and Gabrielle sat in silence and drank their tea, neither sure of what to say.

  Finally, Gabrielle straightened her posture by pulling back her shoulders and raising her chin. “We need to tell him.”

  “Tell him what? We’ve already told him that we’re married,” he said, slight irritation detectable in his tone.

  “Don’t you think he’s going to question why we’re sleeping in separate beds?” she asked.

  Boone looked into the bottom of his cup as though it contained a suitable response. After a few seconds, he looked at her. “So what? It’s not really any of his business, is it?”

  “Boone, do you really want your son thinking you’re a newly married man having so much trouble with your wife that you won’t even sleep in the same bed with her? He’s going to assume that something is wrong. Doesn’t that bother you?”

  “It doesn’t matter to me what he thinks. He’ll see by our actions that we—, uh, care for each other. That should be good enough,” Boone stated.

  “You really don’t care what he thinks?” she asked incredulously.

  Boone thought about it. “I’ve raised Buck to look at people’s actions and the motivation of their heart, rather than taking things at face value. He won’t give it another thought.”

  “That’s impossible! You might assume he won’t be concerned, or doesn’t think anything of it, but he has eyes in his head. He’s bound to be curious.” Her temper was rising.

  “He won’t be judgmental. That’s not his way.”

  Gabrielle shook her head. “He might not judge you. He knows you. But, he doesn’t have a clue about me! He’ll think I’m a bad wife.”

  “But you’re not a bad wife,” Boone said earnestly.

  “He’ll wonder why we’re not—.” Gabrielle hesitated briefly before trying again. “He’ll wonder why we don’t… good gracious, Boone!”

  She stood up, grabbed their mugs and carried them to the sink. Turning slowly, she looked Boone square in the eyes. “He’ll question why we’re not doing,” she paused before the words came out in a rush. “…why we’re not doing what married people do!” Blushing, she spun around and began cleaning the mugs with fervor.

  Boone sat at the table, smiling at her back. He suddenly realized she was completely uncomfortable with the topic at hand.

  He got up and stood next to her, reaching for a small towel and taking the clean, wet mug from her hands. “I’ll make him understand the situation, Gabrielle. I’ll explain that this is what we both wanted and agreed to. How would you feel about that?”

  Gabrielle felt tears stinging at the corners of her eyes. She never cried in front of anyone. Ever. And she didn’t plan to start now. She picked up the next mug and began scrubbing it as if it were the dirtiest thing on earth. “I’m not sure what to think about it. I figured it would be easy for us to portray a happily married couple out in public. I certainly wasn’t expecting to have to pretend to be something I’m not in my new home.”

  She set the cup down firmly and fled the kitchen, heading to her own room where she quietly closed the door behind her.

 
*******

  A couple of hours later, the morning was accompanied by dark and heavy clouds. Gabrielle lingered in her bed a few minutes longer than she should have. The room was chilly, the bed was warm and cozy. Ah, Sunday! I’m so glad you’re here. She decided she’d cook and then clean up quickly after breakfast so she could curl up on the couch with a warm blanket and the book she’d been wanting to read. She loved reading and taking naps on Sunday afternoons, if she could find the time to do it. Today would be the first time in months that she’d actually have the opportunity to relax and have time to do what she wanted to do, rather than what she needed to do.

  Frowning, she remembered that there was now another person to consider in her home. She realized she wouldn’t be lounging on the sofa. If Buck saw her, she’d appear lazy.

  Finally dragging herself out of bed, she stumbled into the kitchen. Boone had been there. She saw that he’d set plates and utensils on the table before he’d gone outside to do his chores. She smiled, noting he’d already made and poured a cup of coffee for her. He left it warming on the edge of the stove.

  She fried some bacon and had freshly sliced bread ready when he came in half an hour later. “Good morning!” He set a basket of eggs on the table, then removed his coat and hung it over the back of the chair. He rubbed his hands together vigorously. “It’s a bit chilly out there this morning. I thought I’d save you the trip to the hen house. It’s not raining yet, but I reckon we’ll have a good storm later today. We’ll take the buggy, though, in case it does rain.”

  “Good morning yourself.” She gave him a weary smile while she leaned with her back against the counter, hands wrapped around her coffee cup. She lifted it slightly before she took a sip, thus acknowledging the fact that he’d prepared it for her. “Were you able to go back to sleep?”

  Boone nodded as he took his place at the table. “Yes, ma’am. Nothing keeps me from sleeping, except for maybe some occasional divine intervention.” He tilted his head to the side, thinking. “Then again, a woman screaming is pretty effective, too.”

  He looked at her compassionately. “I’m sorry for your rude awakening. You must’ve been terrified.” Smiling, he added, “Apparently you can handle yourself though, Breezy. I’d bet that Buck’s gonna have a bit of a black eye when we see him later.” He raised his fists and punched the air, demonstrating a right hook.

  Gabrielle wasn’t yet recovered enough from the incident to be amused. “Well, I can’t say he didn’t deserve it. Why didn’t he let you know he’d be returning?”

  “I guess he didn’t feel he had to. This is his home. He knows he’s always welcome here.”

  She quickly fried a few eggs, wondering how long Buck would stay. Boone was right, it was Buck’s home, too. It dawned on her that she was already comfortable in her new home and was surprised that she had a slight feeling that Buck was something of an intruder.

  Placing their plates on the table, she sat down and bowed her head, waiting while Boone went through his prayer ritual. She was already accustomed to it.

  As soon as he started eating, she asked him a question. “You said something about going somewhere in the buggy. I don’t remember you mentioning that. Did we forget something in town?

  Boone shook his head and swallowed his bite. “I’m guessing your lack of sleep has you confused, doesn’t it? It’s Sunday.”

  Of course! He’s going to church and he expects me to go with him.

  “Oh, yes. I guess it is Sunday. I’ve been a little off track ever since my travel across the country. And then living out here in the country and all, I suppose I haven’t paid too much attention to the days of the week.

  Should I tell him now that I don’t go to church, or wait until another time? I’m just too tired to argue about it right now.

  “I wasn’t able to go back to sleep last night, so I guess I’m pretty tired. I’m really not up to going. I hope you won’t mind too much if I don’t join you.”

  The tired look around her eyes was proof enough of her exhaustion. “Of course not. Maybe you should rest today. There’s always the mid-week gathering. I don’t mind going alone and I’ll be back in plenty of time to be here when Buck makes his way inside. I’m willing to bet he’ll sleep past noon. He always liked sleeping late, especially following nights when he performed for events in local areas.”

  They finished eating, and she washed the dishes and tidied up while he dressed for church. He came out of his bedroom, ready to go.

  “I’m ready, so I’ll be seeing you later, then,” he said awkwardly.

  She sensed his discomfort. “Is something wrong?”

  “No, not really. I suppose I was looking forward to taking you to church and introducing you to the community today. I guess I’m a little disappointed.” He shook his head, “Kind of silly of me. I guess it’ll have to wait until the next meeting.”

  Gabrielle’s heart dropped. She busied herself with straightening up the cups and bowls on the shelf. “Well, I hope you have a nice time. I’ll have lunch ready whenever you return.”

  “So long,” he said, walking toward the door and putting on his coat.

  The door closed, and she sank slowly onto a chair. Elbows on the table, she covered her eyes and rested her head in her hands.

  She couldn’t do it. She hadn’t stepped into a church since she was sixteen years old, and she wasn’t planning on starting again now. What have I gotten myself into? How will I tell him?

  She spent the next hour sweeping and cleaning the floors, feeling unsettled and unsure of what to do. She missed her friends so much, and wished for a way to talk to them again.

  Dear Poppy,

  I wish you were here. I miss our late-night conversations when we figured everything out together. I need someone to talk to.

  I made it to Texas tired, but safe and sound. There was a little mix-up when I first arrived but it all got straightened out eventually. My husband to be, Boone Dillingham, suffered an injury and was unable to meet me. Boone and I married that night while he lay recovering in his bed!

  Poppy, make sure you know what you’re getting yourself into if you agree to marry a fellow “in name only.” I never imagined that Boone would be so polite and perfectly handsome! My heart pounds when he’s near. I’m sticking to my plan, though. He may be good-looking, but I’ll stand firm. I don’t need affection to be happy. I’m not saying it’ll be easy. I’m just saying I’ll be strong and true to my agreement.

  I hope you get this letter and can write and let me know what has happened to you. Please stay in touch.

  Much love, Gabby

  PS: Boone calls me “Breezy.” Isn’t that ridiculous?

  She composed similar letters to Roberta and Sarah, hoping her former roommates were doing well and had settled into their new lives by now.

  Gabrielle felt restless. She’d cleaned as much as she wanted to and had lunch prepared for later. A nap was out of the question, with the possibility of Boone’s son coming in and finding her asleep. Donning her coat and gloves, she went outside for a walk. She was amazed that Texas could be so pleasant, even in December.

  Exploring the land that surrounded her home helped lift her spirits. She thought about Boone and his Bible reading and church-going ways. She would just have to tell him that she wasn’t a church-going girl. It wasn’t that she didn’t know about God! After all, she’d read the Bible once in a while and gave to the poor. Whenever someone was in need, she’d be the first person to help out when it was in her power to do so. She just didn’t prefer to spend Sunday mornings cooped up with a group of strangers.

  Standing at the corral, she admired the horses. She pulled some dry grass from around her feet and leaned over the wooden fence. “Come here, you!” she called out. “Yes, you! The one with the star on your face. Come over here.” She knew different horses had different titles like stallion, gelding, and mare. Knowing how to tell them apart was a different thing altogether. At least she knew how to tell if it was a male or fe
male. That was something. She decided to ask Boone if he had any books on horses. If she was going to be married to someone who trained horses, she probably ought to educate herself a little.

  Although the horses were playful and active, she had no fear of them. She climbed over the fence to get a little closer, hoping to pet one of them.

  About that time she heard a sound from the road. She saw Boone sitting tall in the saddle. The sight of him made her smile. Since I had to get married, I’m glad I got someone who looks like him.

  She walked back to the edge of the corral, waving at Boone. “Hello! I guess you made it back before the rain.” She saw the gate and unlatched it, swinging it wide open for him and the horse to enter.

  He rode inside the corral, and she closed the gate behind him. He nodded in greeting and dismounted slowly, not saying a word. She watched him unbuckle the saddle and lay it atop the fence.

  “I see you’re not fearful of the horses,” he stated.

  “No, why should I be? Just because I haven’t had much experience with them doesn’t mean I’m afraid of them. I have to say, though, I don’t know much about them. I was just thinking I should rectify that, being married to a rancher, and all. Would you want to teach me? Or, maybe if there’s a library in town, I could get some books and read up on the subject.”

  Boone nodded. “Either one would work. I’d be happy to answer questions. There’s a library in town, a fine one.”

  He spent a few moments telling her about the various horses he had. When she told him she had lunch waiting, he nodded and they stepped out of the corral.

  “I’ll be in as soon as I put this saddle up.” He turned toward the saddle on the fence.

  “Gabrielle,” he said softly, looking over his shoulder and getting her attention.

  She took a step closer, “Hmm?”

  He looked over at her, his words gently spoken. “I don’t mind you being near the horses, petting them, feeding them. Any of that’s fine. But don’t ever mount one.” He turned back to the saddle, lifted it off of the fence, and began to walk away.