A Lifetime with You: Timeswept Soulmates

by Ginny Sterling

  “I am not trying to be, but this is hard when they are so rude!” Riley protested weakly. “This is so different from anything I am used to.”

  “Who is rude? The great bearded wonder or the ungrateful woman who is being fed in his home?” Eve asked her bluntly. “He doesn’t have to accept you. But just like you, there was a need. So why don’t you be the bigger person and ask why he even requested a mail order bride? I thought you were a defense attorney? Didn’t you get paid to ask questions? Ask them. You might be surprised if you let your guard down.”

  Riley stared as Eve’s face faded away just as creepily as it arrived behind the great bearded wonder. John, she thought. Those are my options: figure out how to get along and live here or die back home apparently.

  “… abrasive.” She heard him finish his statement in the silence.

  “I’m sorry. You are right John. I was rude and it wasn’t fair to you,” she answered honestly. Riley felt bad lashing out. She felt like a wounded animal that was trapped. “I’m scared,” she admitted quietly. I’m scared of my future here and my past in Manhattan. And frankly, I’m a little terrified of Eve, biblical or not.

  Riley heard a chuckle in her head that sounded like Eve. “Let’s leave it at a healthy respect for the unknown, sound good?” Nodding absently, she admitted again to her companion, “I’m scared and it wasn’t fair to you that I act out.”

  John stared at her small form for a moment, thinking she was mocking him again. The beautiful, little creature in front of him had a tongue like a whip. While it amused him, he particularly didn’t like being the butt of her jokes in front of others. The sheriff had a tendency to gossip and the last thing he needed was for word to get around that his new bride put him in his place. There was enough gossip about Lily still floating around out there. He didn’t need to add to it. “Thank you for the apology, Ms. Butler. But there is nothing to be scared of,” he admitted gruffly. “You don’t have to marry me, nor do I have to marry you if we don’t suit.”

  “No, I know,” Riley whispered, looking away. “I have options just like you do. I just need to decide what I want and it might take me a second,” she said honestly, wracking her brain. Did she want to try to live out her life here? What would it be like?

  “Will you be kind to me? Good to me?” she asked suddenly, surprising herself. She was dismayed to only hear a grunt from him as he crossed his arms over his chest again. Riley bit her tongue. She wanted to tell him a grunt was neither considered a yes or a no, however, she did not. Feeling like she was hanging at a precipice, she found herself wringing her hands nervously. This was not like her!

  “Why did you send for a bride instead of marrying someone here?” she whispered, staring at his hazel eyes blazing from his face. They seemed so very cold, but Riley had to know what she was getting in to before making her own life or death decision. Literally.

  She watched his cold eyes melt before her own. Pain. There was pain in his expression? He said nothing and looked away from her probing gaze. Riley watched him stand there, arms crossed. It wasn’t an angry stance as she first thought but, perhaps, protective. She stared at him, analyzing his body language. He held himself in check, hiding something. “John?” she asked again, quietly this time using his name, only to see him pull farther away.

  “John, why did you send for a bride?” she asked again, knowing her own answer would hinge upon his. Riley refused to ask “do you want me here?” because they didn’t know each other. Eve said that there was a need here. When she was given a chance to try again, could he have been given the same chance?

  “Why are you questioning me?” she heard him respond coldly, feeling him physically drift farther away from her in the room.

  “I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t need to know,” Riley admitted easily, taking a step towards him in an effort to close the gap. Why did she feel like she needed things to be okay between them? Was it because she was afraid of Eve? Afraid to return and die? Afraid of her own reaction to him? “I asked if you are kind because I need to know if you will be kind to me. I can be a… challenge, sometimes,” she finished, looking away.

  His silence was damning in the room and she felt her hands begin to tremble. She didn’t want to die a painful death, but that is what awaited her if she rejected this chance. Rejected him or if he rejected her. On the other hand, she also didn’t want to be abused or stuck in a miserable life either. Neither outcome seemed desirable right now.

  “John,” she said carefully, feeling like she was circling a tiger in the small room that looked to be a bedroom when taking a cursory glance. “Why did you want a bride?”

  Riley gasped as his hazel eyes met hers. The intensity of emotions was blinding and she stared at him silently, desperately trying to get a read on his expression. Pain, sorrow, loss, fear but something more? “Talk to me,” she implored gently, laying a hand on his crossed arms. “If we are to consider giving this a try, then we should be honest with each other.”

  She felt dwarfed by him in the room but stared up at his face, hidden by the filthy beard. Could he be nice to her? Perhaps she could earn her angel wings like in the movies and free herself from the promise of bone-crushing pain? Riley saw him hesitate and she latched on to it. “Go on. Tell me.”

  “I want something more,” she heard him whisper in a raw voice. Riley didn’t press because she was suddenly wrapped in his large arms. Her body felt almost like two steel bands had wrapped around her. The great big lummox needed a hug? Riley practically grinned. He might be hiding a soft heart under that awful lumberjack beard on his face. She stayed still for a moment until she heard his whisper, “I want more than what I had.”

  Excuse me? she thought forlornly. Great, death or insensitive lout, were her choices.

  “What did you have?” Riley asked bluntly. She wasn’t sure why it bothered her, the idea of competing with someone else.

  “I was married to a woman that cared only for herself.” Strike one for me. I’m kind of selfish, she thought as she listened, surprised that he was married before. Did she die? Was he the reason why? If so, how? Childbirth, Indians? Food poisoning? You never knew!

  “I need a wife that will be a wife to me in all ways,” she heard him say firmly. Yikes, he is talking mad monkey sex and I can’t do that!

  “… and I need someone to talk to.” Now that? That I can do, she thought easily.

  “What if I am able to do only part of that?” Her question was muffled against his chest, causing him to loosen his hold on her. Might as well be completely honest with him… well, mostly honest.

  “I can cook (awfully!), clean (liar!) and keep your home for you. But could the bedding wait until we know each other (like never ever?) a bit better?” she asked quickly with an entreating smile.

  At his abrupt nod, her smile turned into a wide grin. “Sounds like an agreement then. Yes, I will marry you,” she agreed easily. Her stomach dropped when she saw the huge tumbleweed on his face that was his beard part slightly, indicating he was smiling, too.

  Both jumped at the knock on the door, interrupting them. “Y’all consummating the marriage in there? I’m supposed to say the words first, you know?” Riley heard the nauseating sheriff crow loudly through the door. He really was a twit, first class! Frustrated, she wanted to call him a more elaborate word, but she would have to be careful since Eve slapped restrictions on her.

  Pulling back out of the large man’s arms, she stepped out of his “hug” and saw him move towards the doorway. The great bearded wonder was not one for words apparently, Riley thought absently and then apologized mentally to Eve. I’m sorry, Eve. That is going to stick in my head because it’s so appropriate!

  Riley followed him back into the main room of the cabin and looked around, noting how plain it seemed to be. There was room to make this her home, or at least to make it feel homey to her. Especially if she was going to be living here with her new husband for years. She wondered absently if it was possible to paint the hou
se or if paint had even been invented.

  “Let’s get this over with,” she heard her fiancé say abruptly to the sheriff.

  “Of course,” she heard the sheriff agree, looking her direction with a knowing grin. Riley would love to slap the expression off his face but knew that she wouldn’t get far being hostile towards someone that John must consider a friend. That great lummox thinks we were doing the nasty in there, she thought amazed. Little does he know!

  “Are you ready, little bride?” the sheriff asked her sarcastically. It should be my intended doing the asking, but all he seems to do is order or grunt. Fine, whatever, she thought.

  “Yes,” she said simply. She could give short answers, too. Maybe when they got to know each other a bit better, there would be more discussions or chats between them instead of her prying it from him. He seemed like he could be nice if he tried. Maybe? It would certainly be better than dying. Anything had to be!

  She watched as John handed a large, old, leather-wrapped bible to the sheriff, who flipped back to the last few pages. He had the decency to leave his hat off and she noted then that her intended didn’t wear one. She didn’t see another hat anywhere in the small room they were in. Weird thing to notice as you are getting married, she thought absently and then focused on paying attention to the words.

  It certainly wasn’t romantic. The half-eaten meals on the plates were still on the table. No flowers, no music, no cake. Riley would give her eyetooth for a cupcake with buttercream frosting right now, not because she was getting married - but because those pinto beans were super bland. She was standing at the end of the table and her intended was nearby. The sheriff looked to be simply droning on a few words and then asked them both if they agreed to be man and wife.

  That’s it? Nothing official or elaborate? Just a nod from her intended and a distracted “yes” from her? It seemed almost sacrilegious to not be married in a church with a large, white gown, but maybe this is how they did it back in the olden times. Riley couldn’t even remember passing a church on their way here.

  “Have your new bride sign the bible, John, and give her a kiss,” the sheriff ordered, slapping his hat on his head. “I’ll leave you two love birds to it and I’ll sleep in the barn,” he said with a grin.

  “Excuse me?” Riley whispered, stunned by the sudden departure of the annoying man. She gasped, as she felt arms grab her and turn her around. All she saw was a mound of dark, wiry hair descending on her as John landed a quick peck on her lips. Ewww, scratchy!

  “I thought you said we’d wait until we knew each other better?” Riley said. She yanked her head back and wiped her mouth, offended.

  “Now,” he said simply, “we are in agreement. Not married until consummated,” she heard him state bluntly.

  “I am okay with that as long as we take our time,” she agreed quickly. Like never? Riley wasn’t a virgin and she knew how the deed was done. The idea of them having sex was mind-boggling. She couldn’t imagine him going down on her, nor would she ever reciprocate! Uh hello? Na-sty!

  At his abrupt nod, she saw him pull back and close the door. He picked up the 2x4 like it was nothing and placed it in the iron holders that sat on each side. No one was getting in or out, apparently. “Clean the table and you can take the bed,” she heard him say quietly.

  “Where will you sleep?” she asked before she realized what she said. You ninny, are you inviting him into your bed? You ready for a Brillo pad on your face or nether regions? Hello? She saw him hesitate and look over his shoulder at her, as if to measure her up. Riley squared her shoulders, prepared to argue the point if he thought they were going to sleep together.

  “You will be left alone,” was all he said before walking off into the single bedroom the house had, leaving her standing there prepared for a fight that didn’t come.

  Clean the table, she mocked silently as she studied the area she would have to pick up. Riley waited a few moments for him to come out and tell her how to do it. There was certainly no dishwasher to load. Sighing, she gathered up the dirty plates.

  She awkwardly grasped the pump and was surprised to find how tough it was to move the handle. Using both hands, she saw that it barely budged and she assumed that it would take a bit to get it going before it worked easily. She had seen “Little House on the Prairie” growing up and Caroline Ingalls worked that pump like it was magic. Surely, that wasn’t a fake prop like the other stuff seen on television. After several tugs and yanks, she saw two large, tanned hands come around her, grasping the pump.

  “You are a tiny thing, aren’t you?” he said intimately against her ear as he practically enclosed her between the pump and himself. Her heart thumped in her chest at the intimacy of the moment. If she shut her eyes, perhaps she could imagine it was Loki from the movies instead of Grizzly Adams. Sighing at the foolishness of her thoughts, she watched, stunned, as he grasped the arm of the pump and moved the large handle effortlessly causing a steady flow of water.

  “I loosened it up for you,” she quipped, uncomfortable at how close he was and how aware she was of his body heat against her back.

  “That you did, little one,” he chuckled and backed away just as quickly as he appeared. Riley looked over her shoulder as she dumped the tins in the makeshift washbasin that sat on a table under the pump.

  “Thank you,” she called out absently once he disappeared out of the room yet again. All she heard was a single grunt in response, making her grin. If things could stay like this, she could handle this chance at life she had been given.

  Riley finished washing the pans and dried them on a threadbare cloth. She didn’t see any towels anywhere, nor terrycloth rags. She assumed that the linen cloth nearby was a towel and the small scrap of fabric was the wash rag. No drying rack, so she made do laying them out on the table to dry upside down. She placed the linen cloth back on the hook and stared at the washbasin, unsure where to dump it. Shrugging, she left it where it sat and put the tiny sliver of soap back on the window ledge where she had seen it. Washing the remnants of soap off her hands one last time, she dried them on the wet cloth and then on her skirt.

  She was dreading entering that bedroom again, knowing, this time, it was as his wife and not his soon-to-be bride. She could only hope that he would keep his word and leave her alone physically as she was not ready for any sort of bedding at all. Entering the dark room, she saw he was lying on a small pallet against the far wall made with a few blankets. The oil lamp sat on the table next to the bed that sat between them. There was a small screen in the corner of the room, but it would be useless: Riley only had the clothes on her back and she’d be darned if she was going to get naked with him in the room.

  “You can change,” she heard him say aloud, causing her to jump. His voice seemed like it was booming in the silence.

  “Nah. I’m good, thank you,” Riley answered quickly and sat on the edge of the bed. If she lay down and went to sleep, was he a weirdo who would come crawling atop of her during the night? The telltale grunt of acknowledgement was the only response she got from him. Sighing, she lay down on the bed and hoped he was as decent a person as she suspected he was.

  Riley looked over and saw that he was facing away on the pallet, not moving. What caught her eye was the fact that he had removed his shirt and was covered in muscles from what she could see. John still wore his trousers, yet his feet and torso were bare. Perhaps it was out of politeness towards her. Riley turned the dial on the lamp, lowering the wick until the flame sputtered and went out. She finally shut her eyes after a few minutes, exhaustion claiming her.

  Chapter 3

  Laying there in the dark, John thought about the day’s unexpected turn of events. He liked holding the slip of a girl in his arms earlier in the day. She smelled incredibly intoxicating, almost like flowers. She seemed so very relieved that they were going to marry and that he had agreed to her terms. The funny thing was that he had no intention of bedding her until she was willing. Lily had screamed and cried
on their wedding night, calling him all sort of names. He had no intention of reliving that horrible event anytime soon. The idea of hurting the little woman did not sit well with him. He would rather see her smile and laugh with him, than for her to shun him like Lily did. The way she struggled when he kissed her reaffirmed his decision to wait until she was ready to take her as his wife in bed. He felt he was getting the better part of the deal, even if she felt like she had won the battle. He had thought to marry again at some point, but not so soon. That is why he had tried to retrieve the letter requesting a bride.

  When he saw her struggling with the pump, it only seemed natural to want to help her and he found himself drawn to her before he could comprehend what he was doing. The idea of being able to hold her against him had been so very tempting, he didn’t resist. Instead, he used the pump as an excuse to get close to her again.

  John was shocked his mouthy, little bride had decided to challenge him and call him names in front of the sheriff. But in all honestly, he thought it was funny that the little slip of a woman was calling him names. It just could not be tolerated in public without discipline. This was an unspoken rule of society, regardless of where you were. The man was in charge and the woman was to cleave to him. He could only hope that when the sheriff headed out tomorrow, he would tell of how John had taken a new wife and that she was well off. Perhaps, that would put down the gossip that ran rampant in town.

  Rumor was that he had beaten or killed his wife. But what they didn’t know or didn’t understand was that his Lily had left with another man. John had tried to be a good husband to her. But each time he thought he was doing something correctly, she would throw a tantrum about how mistaken he was or how wrong he was in his treatment of her.

  He had left Lily alone, respecting her wishes after their wedding night only to find out that she was pregnant a year later. He knew the child wasn’t his, but he wouldn’t discredit her either. John had decided he would raise the child as his own. When he told her of this, she had laughed and laughed. Angry, John had walked out of the house, leaving her behind. When he returned, she was gone.