by Nerys Leigh
“Ladies, welcome to Green Hill Creek.” The man who spoke had greying dark hair, a comfortably round belly, and a friendly smile. “I’m Pastor Simon Jones and this is my wife, Irene.”
The only female in the group, a kind-looking woman, smiled. “We’re so thrilled to welcome you all. I’m sure you’ll be happy in our little town.”
Little seemed to be the right word. Louisa carefully kept her expression polite and friendly, not giving any indication of her nervousness. She was good at that. She’d been taught well.
“Now I’m sure you are all tired from you journey,” the pastor went on, “so I’ll make this quick. I will read out each of your names in turn and your intended will introduce himself, then we’ll all go to the church and perform the ceremonies.”
Louisa’s gentle smile stayed firmly in place, but inside she began to panic. They were going to do this right here? In front of everyone? She’d be publically humiliated and there wasn’t a thing she could do about it.
Moving her free hand behind her into the folds of her skirt, she made a fist and dug her nails into her palm, focusing on the pain until her heart rate began to lower.
Pastor Jones consulted a piece of paper. “First, Elizabeth Cotton.”
Richard Shand, the man Louisa had identified as Lizzy’s intended, stepped forward and held out his hand. “Ma’am.”
Before Louisa could do anything to stop her, Lizzy released her hand, rushed forward with a squeal, and threw her arms around Mr Shand’s neck.
Louisa stifled a shocked gasp. She probably shouldn’t have been surprised, but she couldn’t help feeling embarrassed for Lizzy.
“I’m so pleased to meet you, Richard,” she said when she finally let him go. “You’re very handsome.”
He looked almost comically astonished. Despite Louisa’s mortification at the whole situation, she had the unexpected urge to laugh.
“I’m pleased to meet you too, ma’am,” he said. “And thank you.”
“Well, um, yes,” Pastor Jones said, looking at his list. “So far so good. Louisa Wood?”
Louisa’s mouth went dry and she fought the urge to swallow. Never show your true feelings.
At a soft tickle at her temple, she lifted a hand to push the stray hair beneath her bonnet. If indeed there was a stray hair. She couldn’t tell with her gloves on. Why had she worn her gloves? Now she wouldn’t be able to feel if anything was out of place.
Tamping down her growing alarm, she stepped forward and pasted on a smile.
“Louisa,” Pastor Jones said, “this is Peter Johnson.”
The other older man in the group moved forward and pulled off his hat. Up to now he’d been standing unobtrusively off to one side, or as unobtrusively as someone who towered above everyone around him could. “Miss Wood, I’m Jesse’s father and I’ll be taking you to meet him, if that’s all right.”
If she hadn’t been standing ramrod straight she would have slumped in relief. Jesse hadn’t changed his mind or forgotten her. She couldn’t imagine why his father was there in his place, but at least she hadn’t been abandoned.
“Of course,” she said. A thought occurred to her. “I do hope he’s not unwell.”
“Oh no, miss. He’ll explain when we get there.”
She nodded and moved to stand at his side as he stepped back. For the first time in her life she felt small. For a woman, she was relatively tall, but she barely reached Mr Johnson’s shoulder.
As the pastor introduced Sara to Daniel Raine, Louisa tried to think what could have prevented Jesse from coming to meet her. So he wasn’t ill, but maybe he was injured somehow. Or possibly there’d been an emergency at his place of work. An emergency only an accountant could deal with. Was there such a thing as an accounting emergency? Probably not. A family emergency? But if that was the case, why didn’t his father deal with it instead of coming to fetch her?
Stifling a sigh of frustration, she returned her attention to the introductions. Speculating on her own wasn’t helping at all.
Sara was gazing up at Daniel adoringly, which was no surprise considering he was the most wonderful man on earth, going by what she’d told them about him. Louisa had to hand it to her, he certainly was attractive, and from his delighted expression he felt the same way about Sara.
Louisa was happy for her, but she was mystified as to why Sara would have travelled across the country to marry a farmer when she could have stayed in New York and found a suitable husband without any trouble. From what Louisa could tell, Sara’s family was wealthy and, while not amongst the upper echelons of the social elite, certainly in a very respectable position in society. But she seemed happy, which was nice.
The pastor called Jo’s name next and Louisa watched her meet her husband-to-be with interest.
“Pleasure to meet you, Miss Carter,” Gabriel Silversmith said, holding out his hand.
All apathy from the train gone, Jo said, “The pleasure is mine, Gabriel,” and then, shockingly, winked at him.
Although Louisa enjoyed Jo’s company, she’d had the feeling since they met that something wasn’t quite right about her. Having been raised to always present something of a facade, Louisa had a feel for when others were hiding something. Jo was definitely hiding something, although Louisa didn’t think it could be anything especially bad. At least, she hoped not. She liked Jo very much.
The final couple to be introduced was Amy and Adam. Louisa remembered Jesse’s excited letter telling her that Amy would be arriving on the train with her. He and Adam were close friends and Jesse had been the one to convince Adam to advertise for a bride. It seemed fitting that she and Amy should arrive together and become friends too.
To Louisa’s relief, Adam didn’t seem to mind that his bride was dressed most unconventionally, more like a man than a woman, with her trousers and wide-brimmed hat. Louisa had practically begged Amy to wear a dress, offering to lend her one of hers, but she’d said something vague about comfort and Louisa had eventually given up. If Adam was as nice as Jesse said he was, he’d be prepared to overlook Amy’s attire this once.
If she was honest with herself, part of her was a little jealous of Amy’s courage. Louisa wouldn’t have ever dared to wear trousers, particularly not to meet her future husband.
“Well,” Pastor Jones said, “now we’re all sorted out, let’s get the luggage and head to the church.”
Walking towards the back end of the train surrounded by couples, Louisa suddenly felt very alone, even with Mr Johnson at her side.
“Which are yours, Miss Wood?” he said as they approached the growing pile of baggage being unloaded from the rear carriage.
“The blue ones,” she said, feeling the need to add, “sorry.”
He chuckled, looking from the trunks to her. “Don’t worry, I’ll manage. And May and June are used to pulling heavy loads so they’ll be just fine.”
Despite his words, she felt terribly guilty as she watched him lead a wagon pulled by two sturdy looking mares close to the mound of luggage, especially considering what was in all but three of her eight trunks. Although when he lifted the first of the heavy boxes as if it weighed no more than a valise, his bulging arm muscles stretching his shirt sleeves, she didn’t feel quite so bad. Being a blacksmith, coupled with his unusual height, apparently made him exceptionally strong.
Could that have been why he’d come instead of Jesse, to fetch her luggage? No, that didn’t make any sense at all.
Sara left Daniel loading her surprisingly few items of baggage into a wagon and came to stand at Louisa’s side. “Are you all right?”
She stopped chewing her lower lip, a bad habit she had when nervous, and tried to smile. “Of course.” She looked at Mr Johnson. “Well... maybe I’m a little worried. Oh dear, does it show?”
Sara threaded her arm through Louisa’s. “Just a little bit. But it’s completely understandable.”
She sighed and bit her lip again. “I asked Mr Johnson why Jesse hasn’t come and he just sa
id he’d explain when we got there. Oh Sara, what if he’s changed his mind? What will I do?”
Sara squeezed her arm, pulling her closer. “You showed me his letters, there is no way the man who wrote those wonderful words has changed his mind. He’s besotted, that’s the only word for it.”
She couldn’t help but smile at that. How could anyone be besotted by a letter? Yes, Jesse’s letters to her had been entertaining and fascinating. And yes, she had looked forward to receiving each one with excited anticipation. But she wasn’t a romantic like Sara, willing to move thousands of miles for a man she’d never met. And certainly not for love, real or otherwise. She was more practical than that.
“Besotted?” she said.
“Besotted. I might even go so far as enamoured.”
She laughed softly. “I’m sorry I’m not going to be there for your wedding. Daniel’s very handsome.”
Sara nodded emphatically. “I can’t stop staring at him. It’s embarrassing.”
Louisa nudged her shoulder, lowering her voice. “Don’t worry, by the way he’s been looking at you he won’t mind one bit.” She may not have been interested in romance, but she wasn’t oblivious to it.
Mr Johnson walked towards them from the wagon, having amazingly already finished loading her trunks. “Are you ready, Miss Wood?”
“Yes, thank you.” She gave Sara a quick hug. “See you Sunday.”
Mr Johnson helped her up into the wagon and she looked at her new friends as he walked around to the other side, wishing she didn’t have to leave them so soon. Other than as a small child, she’d never really had any close friends. Her mother and father hadn’t wanted her and her two younger sisters to associate with the children her age who lived in their neighbourhood, believing such friendships would harm their chances of being socially upwardly mobile.
When she was younger she’d secretly dreamed of having friends to play with, laugh with, reveal her secrets to. She loved her sisters, but being the oldest by four years it wasn’t the same. By the time she was of an age when she could have found her own friends, it was too late. Close bonds were formed in the carefree, unguarded days of childhood, and Louisa never knew how to accomplish that as an adult. But all that had changed on the train.
Away from the rules and watchful eyes of her parents, she rapidly came to realise that it didn’t matter whether the women she travelled with were maids or princesses. Amy, Lizzy, Sara and Jo were just like her, travelling across the country to find new lives with men they’d never met, and it had forged a bond she’d never managed before. For the first time in Louisa’s life she had true friends, and she loved each of them dearly.
The wagon started off and she waved goodbye, feeling a little teary. She at least wanted to know that her friends had good lives ahead of them.
Especially now that her own future felt so uncertain.
Chapter 2
Mr Johnson guided the wagon along a winding road lined with well kept houses.
“Is that where the weddings will take place?” Louisa said as they passed a white clapboard church.
“That’s it, the Emmanuel Church.” He glanced at her. “I’m sorry this isn’t happening how you thought it would. I know you were expecting to arrive and get married right away, but you’ll understand once you meet Jesse.”
Louisa didn’t know how to answer, so she simply nodded. He was obviously trying to allay her fears, but she was having a hard time feeling reassured. They turned a corner and she stared at the buildings lining the main street of Green Hill Creek as they passed. It wasn’t exactly the bustling metropolis she’d been expecting of a town on the first railroad to cross the entire country, but that concern was currently vying for and losing attention to the bigger concern that Jesse hadn’t come to meet her himself.
She opened her mouth to speak and then closed it again. Mr Johnson had already told her Jesse would explain when they reached his home. That should be enough. A well brought up, polite lady didn’t question when she was told something. She just accepted it. Louisa was trying very, very hard to do that, but as her mouth became drier and drier and her heart beat faster and faster, her fear finally won out over her manners.
“Has he changed his mind?” she blurted out.
Mr Johnson started at the sudden outburst.
She instantly regretted it. “Forgive me, I don’t mean to question you. It’s just, I’m a little nervous.”
A warm smile spread across his face. She had to look up to see it. Goodness, but he was tall. She wondered if Jesse was as tall as his father.
“No, Miss Wood, he hasn’t changed his mind, I can promise you that. He’s real excited that you’ve come.”
She wanted to ask why, if he was so excited, he hadn’t met her at the station, but she simply nodded and tried again to feel reassured. It couldn’t be much further to his house.
They turned off the main street into a more residential road lined with neat wooden houses that, although of varying styles and sizes, somehow seemed to blend together. After another turn onto another street, the wagon came to a halt in front of a single storey house with white painted walls and a colour-filled yard at the front.
It was smaller than she’d been expecting, barely any larger than her own home. Jesse had a good job, being an accountant with the local bank. Surely he earned enough for more than this? Was everything in the west small?
Mr Johnson cleared his throat. It made her jump.
“Miss Wood, I, um...” He pursed his lips, appearing to consider his words. “I love my son very much and I don’t want to see him hurt.”
Louisa’s jaw dropped briefly before she realised and rapidly closed it again. Did he know what she was thinking?
“I’m just asking that you keep an open mind,” he continued, his eyes on the house. “He may not be entirely what you’re expecting, but he’s a good man and he’ll make a fine husband. The best husband anyone could ask for.”
Now she was completely confused. “I... I’ll keep that in mind.”
He nodded and pressed his lips together, looking like he wanted to say something more. But then he swivelled away from her, jumped down from the wagon and walked around to help her down.
The house may have been small, but it appeared very well looked after. She walked between stuffed flowerbeds along a wide paved path that sloped up to a raised porch spanning the entire front of the house. Wisteria wound around the wooden railing, swathing the porch in a stunning show of purple. Bees flitted from bloom to bloom and for a moment she envied them their single-minded, worry-free existence.
Mr Johnson moved ahead of her to open the door and she stepped into a square hallway with a polished wood floor and pale green painted walls. Four doors led from the room, two to the right, one ahead, and one to the left.
“May I take your shawl, Miss Wood?” Mr Johnson said.
“Thank you.”
It was a nice hallway, she thought as she gave him her shawl and bonnet and he hooked them onto a peg at waist height by the door, next to a dark brown jacket. Clean and uncluttered.
Mr Johnson raised his voice. “Jess?”
“In here, Pa.”
A shiver fluttered down Louisa’s spine at the sound of the voice. It was deep but not too deep, not unlike Mr Johnson’s. A smooth baritone that put her in mind of rich cream.
Rich cream? Where had that come from?
She smoothed her hair quickly as Mr Johnson opened the door on the left for her and, her heart beating double time, she walked into a parlour.
On the periphery of her vision she was vaguely aware of cream coloured walls, a large tiled fireplace, leather upholstered seating, a desk in one corner with three tall bookcases behind stuffed with books. But her eyes were drawn to the man sitting on a settee facing the door.
He was astonishingly good looking, with caramel coloured hair that brushed his broad shoulders, a strong jaw line, and full lips turned up at the corners.
His smile made her already racing he
art stutter. “Good afternoon, Louisa. It’s so good to finally meet you.”
“Well, I’ll leave you two to get acquainted and take the trunks over to the Jones’ house,” Mr Johnson said.
It took a moment for his words to sink in. She looked back, and up, at him. “The Jones’ house? I won’t be...” she glanced at Jesse, “um... staying... um...”
“I know you’re confused,” Jesse said, “but I’ll explain everything. There’s nothing to worry about, I promise.”
She nodded and tried, again, not to be worried as Mr Johnson smiled at her and then left the room. Preoccupied as she was, she didn’t realise that she and Jesse were alone until she heard the front door close.
She spun around to look at the parlour doorway and then back at Jesse. “Uh, is there anyone else here?”
His eyebrows rose. “No. Why?”
“Don’t... don’t we need a chaperone?”
He gave her a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “No, believe me, we don’t need a chaperone.”
“Why not?”
“Would you like to sit down?” he said, ignoring her question and indicating an armchair close to where he sat.
After a moment’s hesitation she walked to the chair and sank into it. She tucked her reticule beside her and folded her hands in her lap, feeling a little self-conscious under Jesse’s scrutiny. She went through her mother’s checklist: back straight, shoulders back, chin up, knees together, ankles crossed.
“You’re even prettier than your photograph. I didn’t think that could be possible.”
It was a forward thing to say when they weren’t even married yet, but the sparkle in Jesse’s eyes as he smiled at her made her want to smile back. She stifled the urge. She still had no idea why he hadn’t come to meet her at the station. He might turn out to be a thorough disappointment. After all, he hadn’t stood to greet her when she’d arrived or even offered her something to drink.