A Bride for Tom

by Ruth Ann Nordin

  She looked hesitant but nodded and joined him in the center of the room.

  He had to admit that she could play along well on this thing. He wondered how long it would take before she called in her friends...or how long it would take them to magically show up. Apparently, he needed to go with a new tactic. He pulled her close to him, thinking for sure that Peter ought to be rushing into the room at full speed. But he didn’t.

  “You can’t hold a woman this close,” she said, her face bright red. “It’s not appropriate.” She stepped back and set one hand on his shoulder and the other in his hand. “There. That’s better.”

  Not really. He rather fancied the other way better but knew that she was right. Still, that should have had a fiancé seething. Just how far were they going to let him take this?

  “Follow my lead,” she instructed. She began to hum and stepped to the side.

  Instinctively, he did as she requested. “You have a nice voice. Do you sing?”

  “Mostly to myself.”

  “Let me hear you sing.”

  She smiled but didn’t look at him. “I can’t.”

  “Why not?”

  “I don’t know.”

  Because she was too shy about it. That was something he understood all too well, but he wanted to hear her so he nudged the small of her back and grinned. “Come on. Just a line.”

  She looked like she was considering it.

  “I’ll tell you what. I’ll sing first.” Now when it came to singing, he didn’t have to pretend to be bad. It came naturally to him. When he hit a high note, his voice cracked and she momentarily winced. He stopped singing. “Sorry.”

  He paused and listened for anyone laughing but no one was. Peter and Margaret were pretty good at hiding themselves. If he didn’t know better, he’d really believe that it was just him and Jessica in the vicinity.

  Jessica took a deep breath and then quietly sang a tune, taking his mind off the window and wondering if Peter and Margaret were listening from outside the house. He stared at her in awe. She could do more than hold a tune. She made shivers run up and down his spine. When she glanced up at him, she stopped, seeming self-conscious.

  “You have a beautiful voice,” he whispered, not intending for anyone but her to hear that.

  “Thank you.”

  It suddenly occurred to him that had this been a sincere offer from her to teach him how to dance, it might be the right moment to tell her how pretty she was. But this was all a ruse, and because of that, he couldn’t adequately enjoy the moment. He didn’t have the heart to physically toss her around to show her just how badly he could dance. Not after the nice moment they’d just shared...or rather the nice moment he just shared with her.

  He released her and finally said, “I know what’s going on. I’m not stupid.”

  She furrowed her eyebrows. “What are you talking about?”

  Just how long was she going to let this game continue? “You know, I may have my bad moments but at least I don’t make fun of other people.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  She was a good actress, but he wasn’t falling for it. He stomped over to the window, moved back the curtains and leaned out. Hmm... No one was hiding in the bushes.

  “What are you doing?” she asked, sounding bewildered.

  He turned to the room and peered behind a chair that was in the corner. Nope. Not there either.

  “Tom, are you feeling alright?”

  He ignored her and went to the hallway and yanked the closet door open. No one was in there. It was just a bunch of coats and shoes. Where else could Peter and Margaret be?

  Jessica ran over to him. “What are you looking for?”

  “Where are they?” he demanded, no longer amused.

  “Who?”

  “You know who.”

  “If I knew, I wouldn’t ask.”

  Fine. So she was going to see how far he’d take this. Well, he’d do something that was guaranteed to get Peter running out of his hiding place. Tom pulled Jessica into his arms and kissed her. It was a bold move, one he’d never take under any ordinary circumstance, but this wasn’t any ordinary circumstance. He expected her to fight against him or slap him or...something to protest. But she didn’t. Instead, she actually seemed to melt into his arms. And neither Peter nor Margaret ran out to stop him either. Why were they all letting him kiss Jessica like this? Her lips were soft and warm. And he was way too excited about it.

  He ended the kiss...something that intrinsically pained him to do...and yelled out, “Come out, come out wherever you are!”

  Jessica shook her head, as if breaking out from a trance and asked, “Who are you talking to?”

  “Did someone call for me?” her mother called out from up the stairs.

  He turned his head in the direction of the woman who peered around the banister at the top of the staircase.

  “No, Ma. At least, I don’t think so.” Jessica looked at him. “Did you mean her?”

  He sighed. “You mean to tell me that Peter James and Margaret Williams aren’t here?” he yelled out.

  “Peter is out shopping with his mother for the tablecloths for the reception,” her mother said. “Margaret isn’t due by until this evening for supper.”

  “What reception?” he tested.

  “The wedding reception of course. What other reception would a fiancé be planning for?”

  He glanced around the house. It did seem awfully quiet, and he didn’t think the mother would lie about something like this. He gave Jessica a wary look. “You’re engaged?”

  Her eyes grew wide. “Didn’t you know that?”

  He didn’t like the sudden turn of events. It didn’t go exactly the way he planned. He had no idea how to get out of this except to play along...and then get the heck out of there as soon as possible to avoid any further embarrassment! He threw back his head and laughed. “Of course, I did. I mean, who doesn’t? It’s all over town.”

  “Yes. I thought everyone knew too,” she stated, seeming uncertain.

  “Well, my little brother didn’t, but he doesn’t pay attention to what goes on.” He glanced at his watch. “Wow. Is it that late already? I forgot that I have to be back at the farm in an hour. I better get home before I...” Okay. There was no way he was going to say ‘get in trouble’ because that would imply he was a kid. He cleared his throat. “I need to repair a fence. I can’t have the cattle running all over the place, you know.”

  “But what about learning to dance? And lunch?” Jessica pressed as he ran to grab his hat.

  He plopped it on his head. “You taught me to dance.”

  “Well...” She glanced at the parlor. “Not really.”

  “Sure you did. You did great. Really.” He clapped his hands together. “Good luck on the wedding. I’m sure it’ll be a great time.”

  She grabbed his arm before he exited the parlor. “Tom, won’t you at least grab a quick bite to eat before you leave? You can’t repair a fence on an empty stomach.”

  He had to get out of there. He didn’t know if she was going to catch on to what he’d been doing, but he didn’t want to find out. “I can’t. Really, I got to go.” He turned to leave.

  “But--”

  “Thank you for everything, Jessica. And thank you, Mrs. Reynolds.”

  He tipped his hat and hurried out of there. It wasn’t until he made it to his horse that he allowed himself to take a deep breath and exhale. If there was anything more humiliating that he could do, he didn’t know what it could be. He quickly hopped on the steed and rode out of town.

  Chapter Seven

  Jessica sat across from Peter the next evening at supper. His mother had invited her over to discuss the wedding, but Jessica had a hard time concentrating on anything that Connie James was saying. All she could think about was Tom’s kiss. Her cheeks still warmed at the memory. She didn’t know how to get Tom off her mind. It all seemed like a dream, and yet, she could still feel his lips against hers.


  “I think an assortment of white and pink napkins will do well too,” Peter agreed with his mother.

  Jessica blinked and forced her attention to the two people chatting in the dining room. “Pink and white?”

  Peter smiled and nodded. “Mother decided that those colors would suit for the wedding.”

  “They are so pretty when they’re together,” Connie added.

  “But I thought we agreed on red and pink,” Jessica told Peter.

  Peter shrugged. “We’ll still have pink. What does it matter what the other color is?”

  “You’re having a winter wedding,” Connie inserted as she lifted a glass of wine to her lips. “White goes much better with the season. And if it snows, it’ll be especially appropriate.”

  Jessica glanced at Peter who bit into his steak as if nothing was wrong. She then turned back to his mother who sipped the wine. “I already told Margaret and Wendy to weave red roses into their pink dresses.”

  She set the glass down and patted her hand. “That’s not a problem, dear. I explained the change, and they took the red roses out. They’ll be putting in white roses instead. So you see, everything is in order.”

  “I like red.” She looked at Peter who didn’t even seem to notice the conversation going on in front of him. She nudged him under the table with her foot.

  He jerked his head in her direction.

  “Peter, don’t you agree with me about the red color?” Jessica sweetly asked.

  He sighed. “It’s just one color.”

  “Yes, and it’s my wedding.”

  Connie cleared her throat. “But your mother can’t afford to pay for it. Remember, I’m the one with the bill. Since that is the case, I believe I’m owed a few allowances.”

  “You wouldn’t have to pay for anything if you’d let me have a simple ceremony,” Jessica argued.

  “Please, let’s not fight,” Peter interjected. “It’s unbecoming. The point is that we’re going to be a family, and since that is the case, we need to get along.”

  Jessica resisted the urge to kick him in the shin...but just barely. She’d already consented to the elaborate wedding and reception because his mother knew a lot of “important” people who were particular about formal ceremonies and how things should or should not be done. Jessica had met a few of those people and realized that life would go much easier for Connie if she was able to present an elaborate wedding. But there was a time when enough was enough. Or at least, there should be.

  “I’m sure we can reach a compromise,” he said, wiping his mouth with a napkin before he set it back on his lap.

  Jessica wasn’t sure where he was going with this, so she twirled the fork in her hand and waited for him to continue.

  “Mother, Jessica has conceded to your desire for a nice wedding. Jessica, my mother has agreed to pay for such a wedding. So this is what I propose. One of you will decide the colors for the ceremony and the other will decide the colors for the reception. That way you both get what you want.”

  His mother sighed and gave a slight nod. “That sounds fair. Jessica?”

  Jessica still didn’t like it, but what could she say? The wedding wasn’t really even hers at this point. Sure, she was the one getting married, but this was apparently about Connie James impressing her friends—and that made it Connie’s special day. Besides, it was just colors. What did it matter if something was red or white? “Alright,” she finally relented.

  Connie beamed at her and squeezed her arm. “My son is lucky to have you.”

  Jessica returned her smile but didn’t feel the enthusiasm behind it. Is this what life was going to be like with Peter? She looked at her plate of half-eaten steak and potatoes and beans. Connie wasn’t mean to her, but there was something confining about being in the woman’s presence. It wasn’t something she noticed right away. But the more time she spent with them, the clearer it was becoming that something seemed off.

  Could it be Tom’s kiss? She quickly looked up at Peter who was laughing at one of his mother’s jokes. Peter had never kissed her like that. Her face flushed and her heart beat faster as she recalled the warmth of Tom’s lips on hers. He was strong too. She felt safe and protected in his embrace.

  Taking a deep breath, she willed the thought aside and finished the meal. Jessica wondered if the woman would be telling them where to live too? At this point, Jessica would like to move outside of Omaha.

  Maybe this is a mistake. She looked at Peter and his mother. He pulled out Connie’s chair before he walked over to her and pulled out her chair. Why hadn’t she noticed that before? Did he always do things for his mother first?

  Jessica managed through helping Connie with the dishes, acting as pleasant as she could despite the growing sense of doom that hovered in the air around her. Then she sat with Peter and his mother for a mind-numbing hour, not even sure of what they were talking about. She wanted to see Tom again. But would that be a good idea? She wasn’t even sure what yesterday had been about. He seemed upset with her for something. He thought she’d brought Peter and Margaret over and hid them in her house. That much was obvious. But why would he think that?

  She had no idea what Tom had been thinking, or why he made up all that talk about his parents feeding him or him having a condition called the shakes. At first, she actually believed him. But after his inquiry into Peter and Margaret, it dawned on her that he’d made up those lies. But why? And how was she going to find out? She would have to talk to him. That was the only way she was going to get an answer to her questions.

  When it came time for Peter to walk Jessica home, she breathed a sigh of relief and let Peter help her put her shawl around her shoulders.

  “I’ll see you next week, my dear,” Connie told her and hugged her. “We’ll take a look at what decorations we’ll have for the tables at the reception.”

  Jessica forced another smile. “Sounds fun.”

  After Connie gave Peter a hug, Peter took Jessica by the arm and led her down the porch steps. “This was a lovely night, was it not?”

  They reached the sidewalk and she noticed that Connie was inside the house. “Kiss me.”

  He chuckled. “What?”

  “I want you to kiss me, and not one of those polite kisses either. Show me how you feel for me in the kiss.”

  “But we’re out...in public.”

  “It’s dark and no one is outside.”

  “It doesn’t seem appropriate.”

  “So?”

  “Aren’t you concerned about your reputation?” he asked.

  “What is one kiss?”

  Was it really because he was concerned about someone seeing them kiss or was it because he didn’t wish to kiss her? What was wrong with him? Shouldn’t he be eager to kiss her? Tom hadn’t held back from it...even if his motives might not have been because he actually wanted to kiss her. What were his motives anyway? She sighed. There was no doubt about it. She’d have to see Tom tomorrow.

  “Alright,” Peter said. “You’re right.” He lowered his head and kissed her.

  She stood there, waiting for something to warm her, to let her know that she wasn’t making a mistake in marrying Peter. She should get some feeling—a sense of peace—about the wedding. But she didn’t. She just felt more confused...and restless. His kiss was nothing like Tom’s, and it worried her.

  When he pulled away, he smiled and softly said, “That was nice.”

  Nice. Somehow, she didn’t think a passionate kiss should seem ‘nice’. She smiled at him and joined him as he walked her home.

  Chapter Eight

  Tom swung the reaper and cut through a few cornstalks when his father yelled out that cattle were approaching. He immediately threw the stalks onto the pile he’d accumulated and joined Dave and Joel as they emerged from the field.

  “Craftsman, what are you thinking in letting your cattle go free through here?” his father yelled at their neighbor.

  “I didn’t do it on purpose,” Neil Craftsman a
rgued.

  Jimmy Parson stormed over to them. “How are we supposed to get the crops in on time when we have cattle to tend to?”

  Neil’s face grew red. “I didn’t open the gate and set them free.”

  “No, but you don’t mend your fence when it needs it either,” Jimmy said.

  “I just bought the place. How am I supposed to know there’s a defect somewhere in the fence? I haven’t had time to examine it.”

  “Look,” Tom’s father inserted, “standing around here and arguing isn’t going to solve anything. Let’s divide up. Half of us will take care of the cattle and the other half will continue on here.”

  Jimmy nodded. “Since this is your land, you stay here and make sure none of the cattle do any damage to your crops. I’ll go with Neil and take care of the animals.”

  “I’ll go too,” Tom offered.

  “That’s a good idea,” his father said. “Tom’s great with the lasso. Why, he can catch anything that moves.”

  “Too bad that can’t be said for women,” Joel whispered to Dave who chuckled.

  Tom shot them a glaring look but they’d already returned to their row of crops.

  “The cattle are down by the beans,” their father said.

  While Jimmy and Neil went to their horses, Tom made his way to the barn. “I’ll catch up to you,” he called out to them, knowing it was going to take longer to retrieve his horse than it was going to take for them to head out.

  He found his steed standing idly in the grassy pasture, seeming to be content to stare at the low hills in the distance. Sometimes Tom felt the same way. All he wanted to do was be off by himself and just be at peace with everything around him. Such peace, however, wasn’t possible as long as his brothers insisted on giving him a hard time. He took the bridle and put it on his horse. The horse looked disappointed to be disturbed.

  “I know. I told you that you’d have the whole day to relax, but it turns out I need you to work. Here.” He stopped at the barrel beside the barn door and picked out an apple. “Maybe this will help.”