by Debra Samms
Yours respectfully,
Mrs. Theodore Bergstrom
. . . formerly Margaret Louisa Howard, known to my friends as Molly
***
Just ten days later, after an emotional farewell at the train station that involved her mother, her new stepfather, and most of the town of Chillicothe, Molly left on the train for her journey to the west – to a new husband. She felt frightened and overjoyed and excited all at once, and could not imagine how she would get through the entire trip.
The twelve days aboard the train were not too bad, especially through the beautiful spring weather. She saw cities and towns and rivers and mountains that she had only ever read about before. Molly tried her best to remember all she saw, for it might prove useful should she ever teach school again . . . or if she should ever be teaching her own children.
Her own children. She closed her eyes. Just a few short months ago, she had thought her chances of having a family had ended forever. And now an entirely new world had opened up to her.
The train rolled on into the unknown, into a future where everything was suddenly possible.
***
After some ten days of travel with a number of stops through several states, the train crossed the Utah Territory border and reached the end of its line in the town of Franklin in the Idaho Territory.
Now began what would Molly knew would be the most difficult part of the journey by far – a month or more of travel with a supply wagon train – but she was determined to make the best of it. She would simply endure each day and try to be as patient as possible.
Her spirits lifted when she discovered that there were two other young women on the wagon train who were also going to Fort Lapwai.
"I'm Abigail," said the tall, thin blonde.
"And I'm Lydia," said the short, round brunette. "We're going to the fort as brides for two of the enlisted men there. I'm to marry Private Nathan Ross."
"And I'm to marry Private John Fisher," said Abigail.
"I'm Molly, and I'm so happy to meet both of you!" said Molly, and meant it. "We can be company for each other on our journey."
"So – why are you going to Fort Lapwai?" asked Abigail politely. "Are you a teacher, perhaps?"
Molly could not help smiling. "It's true that I am a schoolteacher," she said, "but that is not why I'm here. I am going to the fort to marry Captain William Strong."
"Oh! Then you will be an officer's wife!" said Lydia. "Congratulations, Molly. I hope we can still see each other once we are all there."
When Molly looked puzzled, Abigail spoke up. "The wives of the officers run the social life of the fort, and are quite important. But Lydia and I, if we are fortunate, might be able to work as servants in your home while our husbands are on duty. Then we would be able to see you often!"
Molly felt a little shocked at her first lesson in life on an army post – that there was a hierarchy among the wives – but she simply nodded and smiled at the two younger women. "I'll make sure we see each other as often as we like," she said, and the three of them could not help hugging each other. "Whenever we like!"
For the next four weeks, the supply wagon train rolled through the Idaho Territory countryside. It went from Franklin, and on to Boise, and then approached the intersection of the Clearwater River and Lapwai Creek.
By that time, Molly, Abigail, and Lydia had become closer than sisters and lifelong friends . . . and then, at last, the day came when the three of them washed as best they could, put on their best cotton dresses, braided each other's hair, and then sat up tall and proud beside the drivers of three separate wagons as the supply train approached Fort Lapwai.
CHAPTER SIX
The mid-April day was cool and clear and sunny as the supply wagons headed north on the trail that ran alongside Lapwai Creek. Molly looked far ahead and tried to catch sight of the walls of the fort, but she could not yet see them.
Rolling hills rose up in the distance, and down at the foot were rows and patches of tall evergreen trees. Captain Strong had mentioned cedar and fir and pine. But as they got closer, she could see widely scattered buildings and corrals in the open space among the trees, and beyond the buildings a huge open field covered with tents.
There were no fortress walls of any kind. The only boundary was the wide and rushing Clearwater River running along the northern side of the fort, on the far side of the tents.
Molly's heart beat fast. Her face felt hot and she had to remind herself to breathe. She was about to see the man who would be her new husband – the man with whom she would spend the rest of her life.
As the wagons rolled onto the open grounds of Fort Lapwai, Molly looked all around for Captain Strong. There were a number of men there in tan or white uniform shirts with sky-blue pants, yellow suspenders, and, in some cases, dark blue coats with stripes on the sleeves. Most of them were running towards the wagons and directing the drivers towards this building or that one so that their cargo could be unloaded.
Then, at last, the three wagons on which the three women rode pulled up in front of a row of five small white duplex houses. Molly thought her heart would beat out of her chest as she looked and looked for a man who resembled the pen-and-ink drawing she had held close to her heart over the long and difficult journey to get here – and then she realized that three men were approaching the wagons.
Two of them wore plain khaki or white cotton shirts with sky blue pants, and rough-looking dark blue coats that seemed to be loo large on one man and too small on the other. They each had a single chevron stripes on the upper sleeve of the coat – that was the rank of private, Molly realized. They were enlisted men. Yet no one had ever looked happier as the two of them came out to greet Abigail and Lydia.
She felt great happiness for her two friends as well, as she watched them greet their husbands-to-be. After all they had been through on the long journey together, all three of them had made it, and the two girls had indeed found their men waiting for them.
But then Molly saw a third man walking towards her own wagon. She felt hot and cold all over, and her heart beat so fast she feared it would simply give out and stop.
He was quite tall – much taller than Theodore had been – and had dark hair and dark eyes. He was slim and broad-shouldered in his dark blue uniform coat, with two columns of seven brass buttons down the front of the coat. There were captain's bars on his shoulders and the small crossed-swords insignia of the United States Cavalry on either side of his collar.
"Hello, Mrs. Bergstrom," he said, standing beside the wagon and looking up at her. "Allow me to introduce myself. I am Captain William Robert Strong, and I am at your service."
For a moment, she could neither move nor speak. Though he remained on the ground, she felt as though he already held her in his arms and causing her heart to race and her breath to quicken and her cheeks to blush hot.
Captain Strong held his hand up to her. Slowly she raised her arm and took hold of his fingers. He slid his hand a little farther up on her palm to hold her securely, and she could not help holding his hand tightly in return. "I'm . . . Molly," she said faintly. "Molly . . . Howard . . . Bergstrom."
"Molly." He smiled, and she forgot to breathe again. "Let me help you down."
She nodded slightly, still not moving, and just stared at him.
Finally, with a little smile, he stepped closer, let go of her hand, and reached up to take her around the waist and swing her down to the ground. "Welcome to Fort Lapwai," he said.
Molly had no eyes for anything but the sight of the tall captain standing right in front her. She steadied herself against his dark blue woolen coat, touching the two long columns of brass buttons down the front of his broad chest, and finally stepped back.
"Thank you," she managed to say. "I'm very glad to be here."
He just nodded, smiling down at her with his eyes shining, and took her hand once more. The two of the stood looking at each other for a long moment, and it seemed to Molly that there was nothing
else in the world except his shining brown eyes with the dark black brows above them.
Captain Strong still held on to her hand. Finally, Molly had the presence of mind to release and step back. It was strange how very cold her hand suddenly felt now that he no longer held it.
Molly took a deep breath, and looked up as Abigail and Lydia walked over to them. "Captain Strong," said the soldier walking with Abigail. "May I introduce you to my intended?"
The introductions were made all around, and everyone looked very happy and greatly relieved to have finally arrived at the fort. "Mrs. Bergstrom – Molly – I am very glad to find that two other women have made the journey with you," said the captain. "You three are the only ones on the place. And you are the only wife of an officer."
She nodded. "I am so glad they are here, too. I could never have made the wagon train journey without them. I am so grateful that they will be living here in the fort with us."
"I'm glad they will be here for you. Now, then," said Captain Strong, and he turned to face all three of the women. "Arrangements have been made for the wedding ceremonies this very afternoon. The chaplain is ready when you are."
"Oh," said Molly. "Is there a church?"
The captain smiled at her. "I'm afraid not," he said. "At least, not a proper church as you would find in a town. Out here, we simply use whatever space is at hand. But the chaplain suggested a place for the wedding services today. I hope you will like it."
"I am sure we will," said Molly, and her excitement began to build again. "Captain Strong," she said, looking up – and up – at him. "Might the three of us go inside and prepare ourselves for our weddings?"
"Of course," he said. "Come with me. Ross, Fisher – go and wait for the chaplain to call you."
"Yes, sir," they said together, and with a last glance at Abigail and Lydia the two men turned and walked away.
"Come with me," said the captain, and Molly could scarcely hide her delight when he took her hand and placed it on his arm. The two of them walked up the two front steps of the nearest white duplex, onto the small and pleasant front porch, and then inside their half of the house.
"My," breathed Molly. "Captain Strong – is this your home?"
"It is," he answered. "But as soon as we are married, it will be our home."
A feeling of pure joy spread through her at the thought. Our home. It was a solid wooden building painted entirely white, inside and out, with a spacious parlor and dining room and a full kitchen downstairs. The furniture was simple but appeared to be clean and quite comfortable.
"Feel free to take the ladies upstairs, Molly," said Captain Strong. "There are clean towels and pitchers of water already upstairs. I will have your trunks and bags sent up, and the three of you can prepare for your wedding.
"Thank you," she said, and Lydia and Abigail murmured their thanks as well. "We will be ready very soon."
The upstairs floor was just as inviting. There were two separate bedrooms, nicely and simply furnished like the downstairs floor, and a fresh breeze blew through the partly open windows.
His house. Our house. Molly stood in the hallway at the top of the stairway and thought of how this spacious home would soon belong only to her and to the very handsome Captain Strong.
No mother living in the same house. No father-in-law. Plenty of space. Solid wooden doors. Upstairs rooms for privacy –
And then she suddenly turned and looked at first one bedroom and then the other.
If this had been Captain Strong's house – and he had been married up until last fall – then that meant –
Molly closed her eyes and turned her face to the wall. It had been their house first. Oh, how could she have forgotten such a thing?
CHAPTER SEVEN
But Molly had no time to think about Captain Strong's past with his wife, who was now gone from the world. He waited for her right now at the altar – wherever that was in this place – and Molly tried to tell herself that his past did not matter any more than hers did. From now on, all that mattered was their new life together.
The next two hours passed by in a whirl of petticoats and wedding gowns and braided hair and pretty jewelry – and boots, for none of the three women had brought delicate slippers out here to the west.
Molly, Lydia, and Abigail pinned up each other's hair into delicate curls, and laced up their best cotton gowns, and tied sashes into bows at the back. They took turns fastening the brooches that each of them had brought to wear on her gown: a family cameo for Lydia on her worn pink print gown, Abigail with a small circular copper cloak pin on her green-and-blue plaid, and a little gold butterfly on her new blue gown for Molly.
"It was my mother's brooch, and she wore it on her gown at her own wedding," Molly said, touching the little pin at her shoulder.
"Then you must give it to your own daughter someday," Abigail said, as Molly blushed.
"Oh, Molly, your gown is so lovely," said Lydia. "Pale blue, with a sash of real lace! I have never seen such a thing. Your family must be rich indeed!"
Then Lydia's hand flew to her mouth when she realized what she had said, but Molly only smiled. "The fabric to make this dress was a gift to me from my mother and some of her friends," she said. "But when I married the first time, I simply wore a yellow gingham gown and my best bonnet."
"As most girls do," said Lydia. "But oh, this gown is special!"
Molly could not disagree with her. Though the fabric was simply a good grade of cotton and certainly not satin weave or silk, it did have a long sash of handmade lace in deep blue. She felt very special wearing it, and hoped Captain Strong would think so, too.
At last the three of them were ready. They walked down the stairs of the house and out onto the porch, where a little group of enlisted men waited for them. Three of the men stepped forward to take the arm of each of the three women, and they all walked together around the back of the houses towards a section of tall forest at the edge of the fort.
The little wedding party traveled along a pathway that ran from the main buildings and the duplexes past the huge field with its rows of canvas tents, where the smell of wood smoke hung in the air. Every man still in the encampment turned his head to look at the three women as they walked past.
Molly made herself look straight ahead, and then something else caught her eye. "Oh – the river!" she whispered, and the man beside her nodded his head.
"That's the Clearwater River, ma'am," he said. "The Lapwai Creek pours into it just a short way from here."
"So pretty," she marveled, and so it was. The great wide river, flowing to the west, sparkled in the sunlight and tumbled into small rapids here and there over the rocks in the river bed.
They walked along the riverbank, away from the tents, and Molly saw that rows of benches had been set up on the grass just in front of a stand of beautiful dark green pine trees. And it looked like every last man on the post who wasn't assigned to another task was there to watch the wedding.
But as they got closer, she noticed something else. In the tall grass all along the river, and in front of the stand of tall pines facing the benches, were beautiful wildflowers of white and yellow and purple. And even more spectacular –
"Butterflies!" cried Molly, stopping and turning around to the other two girls. "Look at them! They're everywhere!"
And so they were. Some were small and white with silvery spots, others were bright yellow or pale green, and still others large and dark orange with brown lines that made them look like pieces of a stained glass window.
"No one could ever have a lovelier wedding than ours," said Molly, "here along this riverside."
"With these wildflowers," said Abigail.
"And these butterflies," said Lydia. "It's perfect!"
Eventually the three young women once again took the arms of their escorts and approached the rows of benches in the grass before the trees. The setting was magical, and to add to it, an older, grey-haired man in blue uniform got up from the last row of ben
ches. Molly saw that he carried bouquets of large bright yellow flowers.
"These are snow lilies," he said, handing each bride one of the bouquets. "My own wife, gone from me now these five years, carried snow lilies when we were married long ago. I am sure she would be very pleased to see such beautiful young brides carrying them today."
"Oh, thank you, thank you," said Molly, taking her bouquet from him. Each bouquet was made of three large yellow lilies, whose petals curved down to show the flower's center. "They are perfect. Thank you."
The grey-haired man nodded to them, and then returned to his place on the bench with the other uniformed men.
At last the three brides walked with their uniformed escorts down the grassy aisle. Out here, away from the encampment, the air was sweet with the scent of the wildflowers and the pines and the rushing river. The clouds of colorful butterflies flitted all around the young women in their bright gowns.
Then Molly's eyes met those of Captain William Strong, and she forgot everything else that was around her . . . for those dark eyes had led her all the way across the continent from Ohio to the Clearwater River, and now they were leading her the last few yards to an entirely new life which, she knew, would be like nothing she could ever have imagined.
***
Molly remembered little about the actual marriage ceremony. Later on, she could only recall his eyes, those beautiful dark brown eyes that shone as he looked at her. The three men and three women all recited their simple vows, and each of the women received a ring. Then it was done, and the three couples walked back down their outdoor aisle to the applause of the gathered men.
Soon they were all inside the officers' dining hall, with rows of rough pine tables and the benches that had been hurriedly returned from the outdoor ceremony. The three newlywed couples sat at a long table at the front and looked out at the rest of the gathering.
It was truly a special occasion, for not only were the two newly married enlisted men invited into the officers' hall but a few of their enlisted friends were sitting at the tables, too. "I am told it is not usually done this way," Molly whispered to William. "The enlisted men mixing with the officers, I mean."