Reclaiming His Bride

by Bethany Hauck

  “If it’s bad news, Reverend, just tell me,” Lorna prompted.

  “I don’t know if it’s bad news,” Reverend Banks said, trying to soften what he was about to say, “but I’ve had more than one person approach me the last two weeks, worried about you and your situation.”

  “My situation?” Lorna asked. “What situation? I may be a widow, but Patrick left me with a bit of money, and a farm that does well. I would say my situation is better than most people.”

  “I’m not talking about the farm,” Reverend Banks said, “we all know Patrick was successful with your flock. I’m talking about a widowed woman living with two single men.”

  “What are you suggesting?” Lorna asked, “I don’t live with two single men; I live with my children.”

  “They may not live in the house with you, but you have two single men living on your farm,” Reverend Banks told her. “Some see that as improper now that Patrick is gone.”

  “Jason and Alan do the chores, and take care of the animals, that’s all,” Lorna explained. “As I already said, they don’t live with me, they live in a house of their own, that Patrick helped them build.”

  “That’s not the point,” Reverend Banks said, “now that Patrick has passed, you can not have two single men living on your property.”

  “They’ve lived on the property for more than a year,” Lorna protested, “in a house that Patrick helped build. They’re good men, Patrick trusted them, and so do I. I will not ask them to leave, I need them.”

  “But people are beginning to talk,” Reverend Banks explained, trying to get Lorna to understand the problem.

  “Let them talk!” Lorna told him, beginning to lose her temper. “I have nothing to be ashamed of.”

  “No one is trying to shame you,” Reverend Banks said, knowing Lorna wasn’t taking what he was telling her as well as he hoped she would. “You’re a member of this community, and the people care about you.”

  “Talking about me behind my back is not caring about me,” Lorna said, “it’s gossip, and meant to harm me and my family.”

  “That’s not true,” Reverend Banks protested. “We all care, and there’s a simple solution that would end all the talk.”

  “Nothing is simple. What would you like me to do?” Lorna asked. She couldn’t believe what she was hearing.

  “Marry one of them,” Reverend Banks answered. “It will stop all the talk, and you can go on with your life the way you have been.”

  “Marry Alan or Jason?” Lorna asked, her face flushed with both disbelief, embarrassment, and anger. “Patrick hasn’t even been dead for a month, and you’re already suggesting I marry someone else?”

  “Yes,” Reverend Banks said. “I know it’s soon, but the people in Pleasantville would understand, and even be pleased.”

  “Let me make myself clear, Reverend,” Lorna told him, using every bit of her self-control not to yell at the man, but failing. “I don’t plan to marry anyone in the near future! Especially a man I didn’t pick and choose to marry myself! If you want the truth, Reverend, at this time, I don’t plan to marry again, ever!”

  “I’m going to be honest with you, Mrs. Walsh, after this little outburst, I believe the others are right, you need a man,” Reverend Banks said, “and soon.”

  Lorna had heard enough, and she lashed out. “I don’t need a man, and I certainly don’t plan to get married again any time soon!” Lorna went to stand; she was angrier than she ever remembered being before. Reverend Banks put a hand on her arm, trying to calm her.

  “They’re both good men,” Reverend Banks said, “if it will make things easier, I could talk to Jason and Alan for you.”

  “Nay,” Lorna cried, “I won’t do it. Alan is seeing a girl here in town, and Jason has his heart set on a girl on a nearby farm. They aren’t interested in me.”

  “With the farm you own, no man would say no to marrying you,” Reverend Banks tried to reason with her.

  “So you think the only thing important in a new husband is that he wants my farm?” Lorna asked. “What about love? What about loving my children?”

  “Love could come with time,” Reverend Banks told her.

  “But that doesn’t always happen, now does it, Reverend?” Lorna stated, she knew this was true better than most people. “Then all that’s left to hope for is friendship.”

  “Wouldn’t that be better than what you have now?” Reverend Banks asked.

  “Nay, it wouldn’t be better,” Lorna said. “I married once for convenience instead of love, and I won’t do it again. I’d rather live the rest of my days alone before I repeat that mistake. Good day, Reverend!”

  “Mrs. Walsh,” Reverend Banks called after her, “please stay. We need to talk about this.”

  This time there was no stopping Lorna, and the Reverend knew it. She took each of the children by the hand and walked out of the church. Katie and William struggled to keep up, and when William stumbled, she finally slowed.

  “I’m sorry,” Lorna said, squatting down in front of her son. “Mama’s angry, but not at you.”

  “It’s alright, Mama,” Katie told her. “I wish Papa was here.”

  “I know you do, sweetheart,” Lorna replied, cupping Katie’s cheek in her palm.

  “Papa,” William parroted his sister. Lorna cupped his cheek with her other hand.

  “I know you both miss your Papa,” she told the children, “but I promise you both; we’ll be alright.” Katie nodded, and again, William copied her and did the same.

  Lorna put the children in the carriage before climbing in herself. She needed to stop at the mercantile, which wouldn’t be open for long on Sunday. She steered the horse in the direction of the store. She stopped the carriage out front and helped each of the children down before securing the reins to the post out front.

  Thinking about what the Reverend just told her, she glanced up and down the street. Wondering who’d been talking about her and her ‘situation’. She glared at two women standing in front of the dressmaker’s shop, two doors down. Mrs. Curruthers and Mrs. Smith both looked uneasy and quickly turned and walked away.

  Lorna took a step back when she saw the back of a man walking into the sheriff’s office. She wished she could’ve caught a glimpse of his face, because if she wasn’t sure he was in Scotland, she would’ve bet money on it that the man was Thomas.

  Lorna shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts. Too many thoughts of Thomas the last few weeks and not enough sleep was making her imagine seeing the man in places he couldn’t possibly be. She grabbed each of the children by the hand once more and walked up the steps.

  “Come along, children,” she said, and then led them into the mercantile to fill her list.

  **********

  Thomas Grant was beginning to think he’d never get to Pleasantville, New York. The voyage across the ocean should have taken seven to eight weeks, but due to a couple of big storms they’d had to change course to avoid, it’d taken almost ten. Then, after docking and leaving the ship in New York, he went in search of someone who could tell him where Pleasantville was. Once that was accomplished, he arranged a way to get to the town.

  After renting a horse from a livery, he rode north, the direction which he’d been told Pleasantville was located. Not knowing the land, somewhere along the way he veered off in the wrong direction and ended up in a town twenty miles to the west of where he needed to be. Finally, almost a week after arriving in America, he reached his destination.

  Not knowing where Lorna and her family lived, he decided the best person to ask would be someone who knew everyone in the area. That person would either be the local sheriff, or the Reverend at the town’s kirk. Thomas lucked out when he saw the sign for the sheriff’s office and stopped.

  “Excuse me,” Thomas said, stepping into the man’s office, “my name is Thomas Grant, and I was hoping you’d be able to help me find someone.”

  “You’re a long way from home, aren’t you?” the sheriff
asked, hearing the strong Scottish burr.

  “Aye,” Thomas answered, “I am.”

  “You looking for someone from home?” the sheriff asked.

  “Aye,” Thomas answered again. “I’m looking for Lorna MacNee; her parents sent me with a message that I need to deliver.”

  “There’s no Lorna MacNee in these parts,” the sheriff told him.

  “Lorna Walsh,” Thomas corrected himself, “she married right before leaving Scotland. She’s supposed to live around these parts with her husband, Patrick, and their two bairns.”

  “Now I do know Lorna Walsh,” the sheriff answered. “You say you have a message for her?”

  “Aye,” Thomas said, “from her parents. Her brother Calvin died, and they didn’t want her to find out in a letter.”

  “Were they close?” the sheriff asked.

  “Not really,” Thomas answered, “but he was still her brother.”

  “This may sound cold, but I’m glad to hear it,” the sheriff said, “Mrs. Walsh might not take another death so soon very well.”

  “Another death?” Thomas asked.

  “So you haven’t heard about her husband, Patrick,” the sheriff answered, “he got caught in a storm almost a month ago. Lighting hit a tree, and one of the biggest branches snapped off. No one knows how, but Patrick was crushed underneath it. It killed him.”

  “Lorna is a widow?” Thomas asked.

  “She is,” the sheriff answered, “but from what I’ve been hearing, if the people of this town get their way, she won’t be for long.”

  “What do you mean?” Thomas asked.

  “There’s more than one man in this town that would like to take Mrs. Walsh for a wife. She’s a good looking woman, and Patrick left her financially comfortable. The farm they bought is on good land, and growing steadily every year,” the sheriff explained.

  “Is that so?” Thomas asked, still trying to process the information that Lorna wasn’t a married woman anymore.

  “Do you plan on staying in America long?” the sheriff asked.

  “Only as long as I need too. Can you tell me where I might find Lorna?” Thomas asked.

  “Sure can,” the sheriff answered, “take the road out of town heading north. Stay on it for about five miles. When you see a big white farmhouse on the left-hand side of the road, that’s where you’ll find Mrs. Walsh, if she’s home.”

  “Where else would she be?” Thomas asked.

  “It’s a Sunday afternoon. Most people around these parts just got out of church, so they’ll either be in town at the store or out visiting with neighbors.”

  “I could use a few things myself,” Thomas said. He’d used most of his shaving soap on the voyage, and he sure liked the look of the hat and boots he’d seen the men in this country wearing. Thomas wouldn’t mind buying himself one of each, and if they had his size, he’d even take a pair of the boots back to Scotland for Dylan. Maybe he’d also pick up some candy for Lorna’s bairns.

  “Mr. Curruthers only keeps the place open for a few hours on Sunday, so if you need things, you better stop there first,” the sheriff told him.

  “Aye, can you give me directions to this store? Then I’ll head out to Lorna’s place and talk with her,” Thomas said.

  Thomas left the sheriff’s office soon after. He mounted his horse and rode the short distance to the mercantile. He was still thinking about Lorna and what he wanted to say to her. He couldn’t believe her husband was dead, and wondered how that might affect her parent's plan for her to return to Scotland. Would she want to go? He entered the store and went directly to the counter.

  “You must be new in town,” Mr. Curruthers, the owner of the mercantile, said, as Thomas stopped in front of him. “I know everyone around here.”

  “Aye, “Thomas answered, “I just arrived in the country a sennight ago. I came to speak to an old friend.”

  “What can I help you with?” Mr. Curruthers asked him.

  “I need a few things. Some shaving soap, a few pieces of that stick candy you got, and I’d like to look at a pair of them boots I see everyone in town wearing,” Thomas answered.

  Lorna froze behind the shelves where she was looking at material to make Katie some new clothes. She knew that voice, she’d never forgotten it, but why was Thomas here in Pleasantville? The old friend he came to speak to could only be her. Did she want to speak with him? Nay, she did not. There was nothing they needed to say to each other. She needed to get out of the store and away from Thomas.

  “Here’s the soap and candy,” Mr. Curruthers answered, “and there’s a stack of boots in the corner. If I don’t have your size, I can always order a pair, although they might take a few weeks to get here. You plan on staying in town long?”

  “Nay,” Thomas answered, “not long.”

  “You from Scotland?” Mr. Curruthers asked.

  “Aye,” Thomas answered, “and I’ll be heading back there as soon as I can.”

  “Your old friend wouldn’t happen to be Mrs. Walsh now would it?” Mr. Curruthers asked, looking back towards the yard goods to see if he could spot Lorna. “She used to talk just like you when she first came to town.”

  “Aye, I am looking to speak with Lorna Walsh,” Thomas said. “Do you happen to know where I can find her?”

  “She’s here,” Mr. Curruthers answered, again trying to spot Lorna, who was trying to make her way to the door with Katie and William without being seen.

  “Here in Pleasantville?” Thomas asked.

  “No,” Mr. Curruthers answered, “here in the store.”

  Thomas turned just in time to see Lorna run out the door. He had to stop and pay for his purchases before following her. By the time he made it outside, she already had the children loaded in the carriage and the reins in hand.

  “Lorna!” he yelled. “Stop! I need to speak with you.”

  Lorna looked back for just a second before bringing the reins down on the horse's rump harder than necessary. Not used to such rough treatment, the animal was frightened and jumped before taking flight and running. Lorna gripped the reins tighter, trying to gain back control.

  The carriage hit a bump, and William bounced off the seat. Lorna let go of the reins and grabbed her son before he fell over the side. Lorna once more plopped William down on the seat next to her and looked for the reins, but couldn't find them. She tried not to panic as the carriage went down the road, now out of control.

  Chapter 7. My Son

  Thomas only watched for a second before mounting his horse and trying to catch Lorna’s carriage. She’d be lucky if it didn’t tip over the way it was bouncing down the dirt road. He watched as her carriage hit a big hole, and the small boy with her was almost thrown out the side. Lorna must have let go of the reins to catch him, which meant no one was in control of the carriage.

  He kicked his horse’s flank, making it go faster. Once he was even with the out of control animal, he reached over and grabbed the dropped reins. Bringing the horse and carriage to a stop in front of the church.

  Now that Thomas could breathe again, he was angry. How dare Lorna endanger herself and her children the way she just did. If the carriage would have flipped over, it could have killed them all.

  “Give me the reins, Thomas,” Lorna said, refusing to look at him. “I thank you for your assistance, but I’ll be fine now.” She used her body to shield William, who was the spitting image of Thomas.

  “I don’t think so,” Thomas said, keeping his voice calm, the children were already upset, scared, and crying. “Get out of the carriage, Lorna, so we can talk.”

  “I have nothing to say to you,” Lorna said. “I don’t even understand what you’re doing here.”

  “I’m here because I have things to say to you, though some of them needed to be said three years ago,” Thomas told her. “Get down from the carriage. Your children are frightened and need to be comforted.”

  “Don’t tell me what to do, or how to parent my children,” Lorna said,
stressing the word ‘my’. “I have no intention of listening to anything you have to say.”

  “Lorna,” Thomas said in a warning tone, reaching his arms up to Katie, who had tear tracks on her cheeks but seemed to be calming down somewhat now that the horse had stopped. Katie looked at her mother before letting Thomas pick her up. The little girl was still shaking, but Thomas could see that Lorna was too. The wild ride, although short, scared them all more than Lorna would admit.

  Katie looked at Thomas for a second before wrapping her arms around his neck and squeezing him tight. She said softly in his ear, “I want my Papa, but he’s an angel now.”

  “I know, sweetheart,” Thomas said, his heart going out to her. She was a pretty little thing. He wrapped his arms around her and hugged her a little harder.

  “Katie,” Lorna said, her voice shaking, “get back in the carriage, it’s time to go home now.”

  “Is everyone alright?” Reverend Banks asked as he ran down the steps of the church. “I was watching out the window, and I can’t believe no one was thrown out of the carriage.”

  “We’re fine, Reverend,” Lorna said. “Mr. Grant was just leaving, and so are we.”

  “What possessed you to drive your wagon like that, Mrs. Walsh?” Reverend Banks asked. “You’re lucky you didn’t kill yourself, or one of the children. This is why I said what I did earlier. You need a husband, one that isn’t afraid to take you in hand for doing such a foolish thing, especially with the children.”

  “We’re all fine,” Reverend,” Lorna said again.

  “Excuse me, Reverend,” Thomas said, turning to the man and setting Katie down, “my name is Thomas Grant, and I’m an old friend of Lorna’s from Scotland. I’d like to have a word with her in private. Would you mind watching the children, and letting us have to use of your kirk for a few moments?”

  “Of course not,” Reverend Banks answered. Looking between the pair and trying to figure out what was going on.

  “It’s not a kirk; it’s a church,” Lorna snapped. She pointed to herself and then Thomas and added, “and we have nothing to talk about.”