After days of traveling past small towns, rolling hills, and farmlands that varied little from her own New York home, they’d finally reached beyond the edge of all that was familiar.
The thrill of the adventure whispered through her, and she hugged her arms across her chest. This might not be what she’d planned—it likely didn’t come close to the exotic wonders of India—but it was like nothing she’d ever seen before.
John and Richard’s faces were alight with excitement too, and they’d made their way to the waterfront to watch the boats more closely.
“Well, it’s about time,” a voice called to them.
A grin spread across Eli’s face. “We got here as soon as we could.” She stood as Eli started toward the approaching gentleman. They shook hands, and when they stepped apart, Priscilla gasped.
With his tall black top hat, dark mustache, impeccably tailored trousers, and perfectly matching waistcoat, she found herself staring at Henry Spalding, the very man she’d considered marrying. She’d met him shortly after recovering from the mumps, during those days of wondering why she wasn’t having her monthly courses anymore.
Her heart squeezed with dread. She could almost picture the scene in the parlor, not long after Dr. Baldwin had given her the devastating news. Henry had been on his knees holding her hand, begging her to reconsider his marriage proposal. And her final words were the ones Mother decided to tell everyone, the words that would hide the shame of her condition, shield her heart from rejection, and protect her family’s reputation: She would never marry. Ever. Not to Henry, not to anyone.
Priscilla dropped to the seat, ducked her head, and pulled her bonnet forward. And now she was married. How would she ever explain that?
“You’re several days later than you said, and I was beginning to get worried.” Henry’s smooth voice was the same as it had always been.
“For a while I wasn’t sure if I was going to make it at all.”
“Well, you’re the one who told me the Fur Company won’t wait for us if we’re late,” Henry said. “You said if we’re not in St. Louis by the time their steamboat heads out for Liberty, we might as well pack up and go home until next year.”
“And it’s true.” Eli’s voice tightened. “We’ll just have to get passage on the fastest steamboat—”
“Already done. When I got word of your arrival last night, I booked two cabins on the Siam. It’s leaving in three hours.”
“The supplies?”
“Being loaded even as we speak. And Mrs. Spalding is already on board.”
In the ensuing silence, Priscilla had the distinct impression Henry had shifted his gaze to her and was awaiting Eli’s introduction.
She shivered, not wishing to lift her head, hoping Eli would neglect propriety and forgo any formal presentations.
“Let’s get the rest of our belongings on board.” Eli strode back toward the sleigh and reached for Priscilla’s small trunk. “Then I’ll work on selling the sleigh and horses.”
She didn’t move.
He shimmied out the trunk and hefted it into his arms. “Where to?”
Henry cleared his throat. “Aren’t you forgetting something, Dr. Ernest?”
“I may be a strong man, Henry, but this is about all I can carry at one time.”
“Your wife.” Henry stepped toward the sleigh. “You haven’t introduced me to your wife.”
She pushed herself back against the smooth seat, wishing she could disappear.
“You’re right,” Eli said. “Allow me to introduce you to the lovely young lady I met only a few weeks ago—”
“A few weeks ago?” Henry’s tone went up a notch. “Why, Dr. Ernest, I don’t understand. Is this not the young woman you were engaged to and spoke about last fall when we met?”
“No,” Eli responded slowly. “Sarah Taylor decided she didn’t want to go west with me after all—at least that’s what I assumed when I saw her with her new husband.”
Priscilla gasped and glanced sideways at Eli. She’d had no idea he’d been engaged. She searched the weathered lines of his rugged face, looking for signs of the hurt that would surely be there.
His jaw was hard and the winter blue of his eyes had turned cold.
“Then you’ve married a complete stranger?”
“I didn’t have much of a choice. She was my last option.”
She ducked her head again. He’d always been honest with her regarding the nature of their relationship. And even though she’d known she’d been his last resort—the only choice after he’d exhausted all other possibilities—his comment stung nevertheless. She couldn’t understand why it would bother her—except that maybe she’d been secretly hoping he’d change his mind and see that she was a good option after all.
“Well,” Henry said, his voice laced with doubt, “I’m rather surprised at your rashness regarding such a critical issue. But we’ll just have to trust that you exerted wisdom.”
Eli didn’t say anything.
His silence stung her as much as his words had.
“You’ll have to forgive my surprise, Mrs. Ernest.” Henry held out a hand in front of her to help her from the sleigh. “I’m sure Dr. Ernest has chosen wisely with his wife, just as he’s chosen wisely with the rest of the decisions regarding our trip.”
She squirmed, not wanting to place her hand in Henry’s, yet knowing she couldn’t possibly decline his offer of assistance. Tentatively, she slipped her gloved hand into his.
“Mrs. Ernest, I’m pleased to make your acquaintance—”
She lifted her head and revealed her face.
He jumped back and jerked his hand away. “Priscilla White?”
“Hello, Reverend Spalding,” she whispered and clutched her hands together.
He blinked rapidly, as if trying to clear his vision. “Miss White?”
She nodded, and her stomach twisted.
His face was pale, and he took another step away. “I certainly never expected . . . that is . . . I was under the impression—”
“I’m as surprised as you,” she said.
“You’re married?” Henry stammered.
She looked at Eli. His eyebrows arched. “Yes. I was Dr. Ernest’s last option.” At her clipped words, regret flashed through Eli’s eyes.
Henry’s slim face constricted with confusion and hurt. “But you told me you would never get married. Ever.”
“Whoa!” Eli cut in. “Don’t tell me this is the Reverend Spalding who proposed to you several years ago?”
“Yes.” She said the word at the same time as Henry.
Eli glanced between the two of them, his eyes narrowing with something akin to jealousy. “Then I guess I didn’t marry a complete stranger after all. At least one of us knows her.”
Henry’s Adam’s apple bobbed. “How is that you’re married? Especially when you made it very clear you had no intention—”
“And I had no intention of marrying. Truly.”
“Was it just me?” Hurt laced the threads of his strained voice. “You could have just said so.”
“No. It had nothing to do with you.” She had regarded Henry fondly enough. And of all her suitors Mother had liked him the best, particularly the fact that he’d gone to a theological seminary. “It’s just that . . . at the time I wasn’t . . .”
What could she say? She certainly couldn’t tell him the truth about her infertility and chance the news reaching her hometown and bringing embarrassment to her family.
“I understand.” Henry’s face hardened into a mask of cool civility.
“It’s not what you think.”
He turned toward Eli and cleared his throat. “Well, Dr. Ernest, this is a most awkward situation.”
Eli looked at her with raised eyebrow. “The truth is . . .”
She pleaded with him silently—hoping he’d see that she didn’t want him to say anything that might reveal the painful truth of her situation.
“The truth is that Priscilla didn’t wan
t to get married. I just happened to be in Angelica the day she got a letter from the Board of Missions telling her she couldn’t teach in India and that she needed to get married if she wanted to be a missionary.”
Priscilla let out the breath she’d been holding and nodded at Eli gratefully.
Henry was silent. He glanced at the long line of steamboats. His Adam’s apple bobbed again. Then he addressed Eli almost as if she weren’t present. “I’m sure Mrs. Spalding won’t be agreeable to continuing under these awkward circumstances, but since we’ve already come this far, we shall trust in the Lord’s plans and shall attempt to put the past behind us.”
When he spun and strode away, Priscilla released a long breath and let her shoulders sag.
“Of all the men we could partner with,” Eli mumbled under his breath, “it would have to be an old flame.”
“I’m sorry.” He couldn’t possibly think she liked this any more than he did, could he?
He shifted her trunk in his arms. “Was he someone special?”
She hesitated. “He was always very kind and attentive.”
“And apparently you broke his heart when you told him you wouldn’t marry him.”
Had she broken his heart? Or simply wounded his pride?
A steam whistle blew long and shrill. Another boat drew near to the shore, water cascading through its side paddlewheel. Her heart churned with the same slapping rhythm. “I’d given him hope to believe we could marry. And he couldn’t understand why I changed my mind.”
Eli’s muscles bulged under the weight of her trunk. “Maybe if you’d been honest with him—”
“No!”
He lifted an eyebrow.
“Please don’t tell him. I don’t want anyone else to know.”
“What difference does it make? Won’t everyone find out eventually—when we don’t have a baby—”
“Maybe.” Heat pricked her cheeks.
Her gaze swept over the milling crowds, and she caught a glimpse of Henry’s top hat and his squared shoulders. He was a part of her past, the part she’d hoped to put behind her. “I’d prefer to keep my issues private—including the nature of our marriage.”
“So now I need to lie about our marriage?”
“Not lie. Just not divulge the information.”
He shook his head.
“There’s no need to inform anyone that we’re not truly man and wife—that we’re merely partners.”
Eli snorted and started off.
“It’s our business and nobody else’s,” she called after him.
He didn’t stop.
She stood, shook the wrinkles out of her dress, and did what any lady would—calm her frantic heartbeat and compose herself.
But she couldn’t dispel the uneasiness. What kind of situation had she gotten herself into now?
The cool wind whipped at Priscilla’s cloak and threatened to tug her bonnet loose. She grabbed the middle deck’s promenade railing as the boat pitched her to and fro.
She’d hid in her stateroom in the stern long enough. As much as she wanted to avoid seeing Henry again and meeting his wife, she had to put aside her reservations. They would be traveling in close quarters for the next seven months and thereafter serving in a mission together.
Henry was right. They would have to put the past behind them. And she would pray that Mrs. Spalding would eventually get over her resentment and grow to like her.
By the time Priscilla stepped into the partially enclosed verandah, the wind had thrashed off her bonnet and wrested strands of hair from the neat coil at the back of her head.
She stopped beside a pillar and took a deep breath. The Siam wasn’t the largest steamboat on the river or the fanciest, but the captain had boasted of being able to reach speeds of thirteen miles per hour. From the dizzying way the shore moved past them, she had no doubt they were making good time.
With a shaking hand, she brushed back a wisp of hair. She glanced around to the smattering of passengers seated on simple wooden deck chairs. Henry stood against a beam, his arms folded across his chest, his legs crossed at the ankles. He stared at her, admiration clear within his eyes. But when her gaze collided with his, he shifted it to the woman sitting next to him.
Priscilla lowered her lashes, sure that if her cheeks weren’t already pink from the cold, they would be now.
When she chanced another glance, she caught sight of Eli watching her and Henry. Storm clouds were gathering in his eyes.
He strode across the verandah, his boots scuffing the floor. When he reached her, his fingers encircled her arm. “If we’re going to pretend to be lovers,” he growled against her ear, “then you’d better not flirt with all the men in the room, especially married men.”
Lovers? Just the mention of the word made her insides quiver. “I’m not flirting.”
“If that wasn’t flirting, then I don’t know what is.”
“I can’t help it if he looked at me. I didn’t ask him to.”
He tugged her forward. “Come on. I’ll introduce you to his wife.”
She wanted to protest again, but Sister Spalding was already rising. Her face was pale, but she managed a tremulous smile.
“Henry, don’t you think it’s time our wives met?”
The reverend glossed over her, all admiration gone, replaced instead with reserve.
Sister Spalding grasped Henry’s arm. “Oh, Sister Ernest, I’ve been waiting to meet you.”
Priscilla forced a smile.
“Mabel, this is my wife, Priscilla.” Eli nudged her forward.
“I’m thrilled.” Mabel extended her hand and grasped Priscilla’s. The warmth of her grip matched the warmth in her eyes. And although her features were plain, almost mousey, the gentleness of her inner spirit radiated with genuineness.
“It’s my pleasure.” Priscilla shook the woman’s hand.
“Since Mr. Spalding thought so highly of you in the past, I will count it a delight to partner with you.”
Henry’s face twitched, and he didn’t take his narrowed glare off the passing rocky riverbank. If the news of their previous relationship had upset Mabel, as Henry had declared it would, she was certainly talented at hiding her discomfort.
“You are indeed gracious,” Priscilla murmured. “And I’m sure I will find it equally delightful.”
Mabel’s smile widened, revealing crooked front teeth in an overbite. “You don’t know how much it means to me to hear you say that.”
The steamboat whistle bellowed. They were fast approaching two other riverboats.
Mabel glanced forward and blanched. She covered her mouth and swallowed. “I’m sorry, but the motion of the boat isn’t helping my nausea.”
“Perhaps I can give you something,” Eli said. “Powdered gingerroot in hot water with a drop of honey?”
“Oh, Dr. Ernest, thank you.” Her hand fluttered to her stomach, and her fingers opened into the kind of splay across the abdomen that could only mean one thing.
Priscilla’s heart plummeted.
“But I’m sure I’ll be just fine,” Mabel continued, her eyes shining. “Especially in a month or two.”
“Then you are . . .” Eli glanced at Henry, his eyebrows raised with obvious surprise.
Henry nodded. “Mrs. Spalding is in the family way.”
“This isn’t exactly the best timing,” Eli mumbled.
“We didn’t plan it,” Henry said, his tone rising. “I was hoping this wouldn’t happen until we were already settled. But—”
“But God is good.” Mabel patted her husband’s arm.
“And of course, I’ll be here to help,” Priscilla offered, trying to push aside twinges of jealousy.
“Oh, thank you, dear.” Mabel’s eyes brimmed with relief. “Then I must remember to thank the Lord for providing not only a doctor, but a lovely new friend.”
“Dr. Ernest is a charming companion when he wants to be, but I’ve found myself sorely missing the companionship of another woman.”
Eli’s brow shot up.
Priscilla flashed him a coy smile. “And of course there are the times he’s quite uncivilized, which will make me all the more grateful for the presence of another lady.”
Eli’s eyebrow quirked higher, along with the corner of his mouth. “Some of us might be a little rough around the edges, but that just keeps us from being dull, don’t you think?”
A blush crept up her neck. He was right. He was anything but dull.
Over the past days of traveling together in the sleigh, they’d been able to talk easily, almost too easily. She’d never before been able to converse with a man the way she did with Eli—almost as if he were a friend. And friendship was a good thing, wasn’t it? If they weren’t going to have a real marriage, then at least they could be friends.
The boat lurched and tossed her against Eli, almost as if he’d planned it. His arms captured her and steadied her against his chest.
The gasps and cries of other passengers arose around her.
The vessel jerked again.
Eli’s arms tightened, and if they hadn’t been in peril, she would have enjoyed the moment altogether too much.
“What’s happening?” she asked against the solidness of his chest, knowing she should be afraid. After all, steamboats might be fast but they were also dangerous. Underwater snags were a constant threat, as were boilerplate blowups. Oddly, she was calm. “Are we sinking?”
“We can’t be. Not so soon into our journey,” his steady voice breathed against her.
She pressed her nose into his shirt and dragged in a breath of the spiciness that was uniquely him.
“I’m sure we’ll be fine.” He peered over her head. “Looks like we’ve gotten into a scuffle with one of the steamboats we’re passing.”
The Siam steadied, but the lower deck rang with shouts. “Someone’s hurt!”
A chill slithered up Priscilla’s spine.
Eli peered over the railing—as if he were already attempting to diagnose the problem.
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