Jumping out of bed, she draped the shawl around her shoulders and with her hair hanging lose, decided to see which clothes of Phyllis’ would be the most suitable to wear into town. If they had to call in on the preacher, she could hardly wear men’s clothing.
Ooh, it was cold. Clutching the shawl around her shoulders, she dashed out into the sitting room and cannoned into Martin. His arms clamped around her for an instant before he let go and stepped back.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t look where I was going,” she said.
His eyes swept her from head to toe. A pulse convulsed in his jaw. “What’s the rush?” He kept staring at her, causing her to clutch the shawl more tightly around her shoulders.
“Phyllis said I could borrow some clothes to wear into town. I can’t see the preacher dressed in men’s attire. It was so cold,” she babbled, knowing she was talking too much, but not knowing how to stop herself.
He grinned. “Okay, okay.” He turned away. “Once you’re dressed and had breakfast, we can go.”
“Thank you.” She darted away.
In Phyllis’ room, she opened the closet. How would she be able to face Martin after him seeing her wearing just a thin nightgown? He had looked hard and long. Whether he liked what he saw, she had no idea. I hope he did. She tried to control her wanton thoughts. She was a respectable, well brought up young woman, even if the townsfolk of Hurstbridge doubted her virtue.
She pulled out a soft, wool dress in a pretty shade of green, perfectly plain except for black velvet around the cuffs and collar. It had a matching three quarter length coat. She quickly changed before scurrying back to her room to wash her face and hands in the freezing cold water, which her father would have called invigorating.
Once she had brushed and pinned her hair up, she felt more confident to face Martin again.
As she entered the kitchen, she noticed he had changed into black pants and a white shirt with a black leather waistcoat. He was leaning over the stove and the smell of ham and eggs and fresh coffee infused her nostrils, making her realize how hungry she was.
“I thought I would cook you breakfast,” he said. Last night’s dark stubble on his jaw and chin had disappeared, leaving his skin tanned and smooth.
“Thank you. I thought you couldn’t cook.”
“Ham, eggs and beans is about all I’m capable of.
“I’m sorry I slept in. I hope I haven’t held you up.”
“No, you were tired. I was able to do a few chores. Phyllis said to let you sleep.”
“Your sister is such a kind person; I like her a lot.”
“And me?” He gave her a cheeky little boy grin.
“I didn’t like you much at first.”
“Ouch.”
“But you’ve grown on me.”
“Like a boil?”
“No.”
“I’ll have coffee with you. I’ve got the buckboard hitched up already.”
“Doesn’t your sister take it?”
“I’ve got two. The one Phyl uses and a larger one for when I need supplies. I might as well stock up today while we’re there. I wonder if the preacher would marry us today, as well.”
“You are anxious.”
“We might as well get it over and done with, save going into town again.”
Briony could not decide whether to be flattered or insulted. “What about Phyllis? I mean, she might be upset at not getting an invite to the ceremony.”
He gave a dismissive shrug. “She won’t care. The quicker we get hitched the quicker her and Jarrod can do the same.” He became thoughtful for a moment. “You want a wedding with all the trimmings?”
“No, I don’t under the circumstances. It just seems, well, hurried.”
“We could go to the diner and have lunch to celebrate.”
It was the best offer she was going to get so she took it.
“Sounds nice.”
“I….I couldn’t have a big wedding even if the circumstances were different. Crowds spook me.”
She touched his hand. “It’s all right, I understand.”
“I can buy you something pretty, if you like.”
“No, it’s fine. I’ve got enough clothes in my trunk. I was never one for dressing up unless I had to. What about a wedding ring?” she asked.
“I’ve got one.”
“Already?”
“Yes, it belonged to my grandmother. I’d like for you to wear it unless….”
“I would be honored to wear it, but what about Phyllis?”
“She has our mother’s wedding ring.”
After they had eaten and cleaned up, they left the house. The moment Briony stepped outside, a freezing blast of wind slapped her in the face, and she was glad of the sheep skin coat Martin had insisted she wear. It was similar to the one he wore.
He helped her board the buckboard and jumped up beside her. After laying a rug across her knees, he clicked his tongue, flapped the reins and they were off. Next time she came here she would be Mrs. Martin Kavanagh.
No words passed between them as they drove along. Suddenly, she felt the need to break the silence. “Do you celebrate Christmas?”
“Not really. For the last few years, I haven’t had anything particularly joyous to celebrate.”
“That’s a shame.”
“Is it? Phyllis likes it. She goes into town the day before Christmas and stays with friends so she can attend church, then they have a special luncheon. When Jarrod was here, he used to go with her.”
“Haven’t you ever thought you might like to decorate the house?”
“No.”
“Pa and I used to love Christmas. We always had a large Christmas tree and a traditional English Christmas feast, roast turkey with vegetables and all the trimmings, plum pudding with brandy sauce. Pa’s parents were English, and they brought the tradition out with them.”
“When we were kids, we used to decorate a tree. Ma would make us something for a present and we would get a small store-bought toy.” He frowned. “As I recall, I did enjoy it.” He shrugged. “A lot of water has passed under the bridge since then.”
As they got to the schoolhouse, Phyllis dashed out to them. She had obviously been waiting to catch them as they passed by. “Good luck,” she said breathlessly.
“Thanks, Phyl.”
“Thank you for everything.” Briony smiled. “The clothes and….”
“You look better in them than I do. Next time we meet, you will be man and wife.”
“The preacher mightn’t marry us. I’m a stranger to town and Martin said he isn’t a regular church goer.”
Phyllis reached up and squeezed her hand. “Yes, he will.”
Martin gave her a suspicious look. “What have you been up to?”
“Have you forgotten? Preacher Thomas has two children attending this school.” She gave a smug smile. “I organized everything with him then, he’s expecting you with his marrying book at the ready.”
“Phyl, you are the absolute limit.”
“Aren’t I? No thanks required. Oh, and I’m staying the night at Greta’s place, too.”
“Phyllis Kavanagh!” Martin exclaimed. “What else have you been concocting?”
“You don’t have to leave, Phyllis. I mean, it’s your home.”
“You need privacy on your wedding night.”
“I…we…” he spluttered. “It’s a marriage in name only.”
“And that’s what you want, now you’ve met Briony?”
“Well, I…” He swallowed a couple of times. “No, but she might not want that.”
Now was the time for her to speak up, Briony thought. Whatever her decision, she knew he would abide by it. Why shouldn’t she have what other women had, a proper husband, hopefully one who would grow to love her, babies if God deemed them worthy. Time hung like a broken pendulum between them.
“Yes, I want us to have a real marriage.”
Martin exhaled a noisy breath. “I’m glad.” His voice was husky, y
et she heard it as clear as if he had shouted.
“I have to go back inside before my pupils run amok. Good luck. Oh, and by the way, I’ve sent a telegram to Jarrod telling him I’m coming. I’ve hitched myself a ride with a family who are travelling to Denver to visit relatives for Christmas.”
“You can’t do that,” Martin said.
“I can and I have. I’ve waited long enough, Marty. This is a good opportunity for me and I’m taking it.”
She looked so determined, Briony knew she would not change her mind. She was in a hurry to marry Jarrod. Understandable, under the circumstances. “Thanks, Phyllis, for everything. I will never be able to thank you for all you’ve done.”
“Make my brother happy, that will be thanks enough. Anyway, I’ve always wanted a sister, now I’ve got one.” She turned and dashed back to the schoolhouse.
“She’s always been bossy,” Martin said, “but there is no one I know who has a bigger heart than hers, and she’s waited a long time to wed Jarrod.” He clicked his tongue and the horses started off again.
“I know. The moment I met her I liked her. We seemed to have an instant rapport, I suppose that’s the word I’m searching for.”
“She has that effect on everyone. The moment Jarrod met her he was smitten. He knew she was the only woman he wanted to marry. It was me who held them back. If he hadn’t taken the position in Denver they would have been married and stayed on at the ranch.”
“Why did he take the job?”
“Phyllis insisted. It was his lifelong dream to have his own school and she would never let him sacrifice it for anyone, even her. She had faith they would eventually be together. Your arrival on the scene gives them the chance of happiness together.” He leaned across and squeezed her hand.
“I’ve been wallowing in this pit of misery and despair for too long. With your help, I’m going to climb out of the darkness and into the light.”
“I’m glad. Even on such short acquaintance, I have feelings for you, Martin.”
“I don’t want your pity, Briony. I want…”
“What do you want?” She edged closer to him.
“Your love. That’s what I want. Is there any hope for me after the bad start we had?”
“Yes. I already have strong feelings for you, too. If I’m not in love with you already, I’m sure I soon will be.”
Chapter Eleven
As they drove down the main street of town, they received a few interested stares. She smiled and nodded. Martin stared straight ahead.
“We’ll go straight to the church,” he said. “Then collect your luggage.”
“Good idea. We’ve certainly created a bit of interest.”
“It’s not me, it’s you. A lot of people here think I’m queer in the head.”
“Surely not.”
“I’ve been living a reclusive existence, so I guess it is a reasonable assumption when they don’t really know me. There are a few people in town who understand how it is, the sheriff, the mercantile owner, the bank manager and a couple of others who I deal with.”
The church stood on a slight rise at the back of the main street. It was a white, weatherboard structure with a steeple, and perfectly plain except for the arched windows and doorway.
“Preacher Thomas and his family live next to the church. We better go there first,” Martin said.
They had barely pulled up in the churchyard when a thin, slightly stooped man came out of the church and waved to them.
Martin lifted Briony down.
The preacher held out his hand. “Good morning, Martin.”
“Preacher. The beautiful young lady with me is….”
“Briony.” The preacher laughed. “Phyllis spoke to me when I dropped the boys off at school, told me to expect you. Pleased to meet you, my dear.”
“I’m pleased to meet you, also, Preacher.”
“Phyllis organized everything, I suppose.” Martin grinned.
“Yes, she got me to send off a telegram to Jarrod saying she was on her way and you two were getting married.”
“She’s like a whirlwind, once she sets her mind to something,” Martin said. “There’s no stopping her.”
“Come into the church, I’ve got everything we need ready. My wife will act as one of your witnesses and Olaf should be here in a moment or two.”
They stepped inside.
“The sheriff?” Briony exclaimed. “He and I have had an altercation.”
I know.” The preacher chuckled. “He told me, but he won’t hold it against you. I rather think he enjoyed the encounter.”
“I threatened him,” she said. “Yelled at him.”
“You were upset, my dear, understandable, given the circumstances.”
“I felt the lash of her tongue.” Martin laughed. “I couldn’t believe I had riled her up so much.”
“I’m not usually like that, but I was tired and upset and, well, I do have red hair.” She laughed.
“I would call it auburn,” the preacher said.
“Oh? Most people just call it red.”
“I’m very knowledgeable about hair color,” he said with a smile.
A back door opened to reveal a tall, attractive woman whose face was wreathed in smiles.
Briony stifled a gasp. The woman’s hair was almost the same color as hers.
“My dear Briony, I’m so pleased to meet you, and Martin. How are you?”
She rushed on, not giving them a chance to answer. “Olaf,” she called out over her shoulder. “We’re ready for you.”
The sheriff stepped into the church. “Howdy, everyone.” He stared straight at Briony whose cheeks burned.
“Good morning, Sheriff, I’m sorry about yesterday.”
He brushed away her apology with a grin and the wave of one arm. “So, you’re finally getting hitched, Martin.”
“Yeah, looks like it.” He winked at Briony. “Between Phyllis’ plotting and scheming, and Briony giving me a tongue lashing.” He grinned. “Well, here I am. I’ve got the ring.”
“Oh, good,” the preacher said. “Lay it on the bible for the blessing, then we can start.”
The ring was a wide band of rose gold with entwined hearts engraved on it.
“This belonged to my grandmother,” Martin told the preacher.
“I could see it was old by the fine engraving. I don’t see much of that these days.”
The ceremony was short and sweet and when the preacher said, you may now kiss the bride Martin leaned into her. As their lips met, a million stars exploded inside her head and she had to clutch on to his coat so her trembling legs would hold her upright.
Something magical happened to them inside the church. By the astonished expression on Martin’s face, he had felt it also.
Epilogue
Two years later
The turkey had been cooking all morning, the plum pudding was simmering away. Everything was ready. This was going to be the best Christmas ever.
Briony stepped into the sitting room, where Martin sat on the floor with fourteen-month old Charlie checking the brightly wrapped packages under the large Christmas tree.
“This one has your name on it. You can open it; your mother won’t mind.”
“How do you know she won’t?” Briony smiled at them. Charlie squealed as Martin handed him a brightly wrapped present and he commenced pulling the paper off it straight away.
“He’ll probably like the wrapping more than the present at his age,” Briony said.
“Yeah, probably. As long as he doesn’t eat it.”
“It’s your job as his father to make sure he doesn’t. I wish Phyllis and Jarrod would hurry up, I can’t wait to see them.”
“You and Phyllis were at the church ladies luncheon a couple of days ago, and Jarrod and I were lumbered with the child minding.”
“You could have come, too.” She smiled at this man who had stolen her heart and given her such a beautiful son.
“Jarrod and I wouldn’t be
seen dead in there, mixing with all those cackling women. Any man would prefer to walk barefoot over a bed of burning coals than endure that.”
She laughed. “We aren’t that bad.”
Martin still avoided crowds and noise, although he was improving, now they had a close circle of friends from the church. Phyllis’ little school had been closed after she left. A much larger one opened about ten miles away to cater for the children from a new town created to cater for a large sawmill, which had opened.
Jarrod had been lucky enough to get the head-master’s job there, and he and Phyllis had moved back last year. They had bought a place halfway between the new town and here.
Above the sounds of paper being ruthlessly ripped off by eager baby hands, she heard wheels crunching on the pebble strewn pathway. Martin strode outside to greet the visitors, as it was too cold to take Charlie out. Briony dared not leave him alone with the roaring fire going, not to mention the Christmas tree, which he had already knocked over twice since it had been erected ten days ago.
Phyllis rushed in carrying eight-month old Julia, while Jarrod followed with Martin loaded down with luggage and brightly wrapped presents.
“I swear Phyllis has packed enough stuff for a month’s stay, not two days,” Briony heard Martin say.
“You brave enough to tell her?” Jarrod laughed. “I’m not. You of all people know what she’s like once she gets an idea in her head.”
“Yeah.”
Briony and Phyllis hugged each other, then each of the babies.
Things were chaotic. Martin glanced around his sitting room, which had a roaring fire and a decorated Christmas tree. He rarely visited the dark places in his life now. He had too much love and happiness and he thanked God for all his bounties. He was a lucky man.
The End
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Author Links
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http://www.margarettanner.com
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An Unwanted Bride for Christmas Page 7