Carol Ritten Smith Page 23

  Davy, of course, was overjoyed to learn Tom was marrying his sister, and his excitement was doubled when Tom informed him they’d all be taking the train to Tannerville immediately afterwards. Bill, however, remained stoically silent.

  “Okay, Bud,” Tom ordered, “take your clothes and set them out on the bed so they don’t get creased.”

  Bill waited until Davy was out of earshot before firing, “Beth’s only marrying you just to keep us together, you know.”

  “I hope to God she’s marrying me for more than that, but you’ll have to ask Beth her reasons yourself. As for me, I love your sister, and if she lost you two, she’d be heartbroken. I can’t let that happen.” Tom dragged the tub from the corner. “I’m trusting Lanson to know what he’s talking about.”

  He started pailing water across from the copper boiler. “Listen, I want to get ready. I suggest you get a few things packed for Tannerville. We haven’t got much time.” Up the stairs he called, “Come on down and have a bath, Davy. I don’t want no ball of dirt for a brother-in-law.”

  While Davy scrubbed in the tub in the kitchen, Tom rifled through his top dresser drawer in his bedroom. It has to be here somewhere. He started in the back left corner, feeling his way through folded sweaters and work shirts. Finally in desperation, he yanked the drawer from the dresser and flipped it over. The contents tumbled onto the bed. The last thing to fall with a soft clump atop the sweaters was a small carved, wooden box. Smiling, Tom slowly lifted the hinged lid, and his mother’s wedding ring, its single diamond, twinkled at him from its bed of royal blue velvet.

  His parents had been married just shy of fifteen years when the influenza took them and his sisters. That was many years ago and the pain had faded, but Tom still could feel the warmth and happiness they had shared as a family. In a few hours, he would be the head of his family, accepting responsibility for his wife and her brothers. Life would never be the same. He wanted to slow down, to sit and ponder these last minutes of bachelorhood, but there was no time to waste. He slid the ring onto his pinkie, and closed the box. He had a wedding to attend!

  Chapter 22

  Just as Tom had hoped, Mary took the situation into her own hands. She scurried over to Beth’s, a large garment bag under one arm and a sewing basket hanging from the other. When Beth opened the door, Mary shouldered through, dropped everything onto the table and gave the girl a crushing hug. She ignored Beth’s tear-stained face.

  “Tom is always full of surprises, but this one beats all. I’m so happy, dear. I thoroughly approve of his choice of wife.” She hugged her a few seconds longer and then set to work. “Now, we mustn’t waste a moment.”

  She opened the garment bag, drew out a long white gown and held it up. “When God blessed us with our boys, I never thought I’d see this worn again. It was mine when I married Earl. I’d be so proud if you’d consent to wear it today.”

  “Oh, Mary — ” Beth thought she had cried all the tears she had, but more threatened. How could she wear a white wedding gown, a symbol of chaste innocence? Yet, how could she refuse without raising suspicion?

  Mary misunderstood her hesitation. “Oh, I know it will need a bit of adjusting in the bodice, but it won’t take long. I brought my sewing things.” She turned the dress inside out. “Quickly, dear, strip down to your pretties so you can try this on for a fitting.”

  In a daze, Beth passively did all she was instructed, turning this way and that, raising her hands above her head, dropping her arms by her side. Mary held the pins between pursed lips, pulling them out one at a time, fitting and tucking and pinning. Then she carefully lifted the garment over Beth’s head, mindful not to scratch her with the pins. She threaded a needle and began to stitch.

  “Do you have everything packed you’ll need?” she asked as her fingers nimbly pushed the needle and thread in and out the silky fabric.

  Beth nodded, then sank into a chair across the table, her hands clasped tightly on the tabletop. “Do you know why he’s marrying me? What did he tell you?”

  Mary’s hands paused. “He told me about your uncle, may the devil take that cruel man’s soul, but don’t be thinking that’s the only reason he wants to marry you. Tom loves you, plain and simple.” She resumed her stitching. A minute later she bit off the thread, knotted it again, and started on the other side. Beth watched silently until Mary finished.

  “All right, girl,” Mary said, turning the dress right side out, “try this on again, and if it fits then we’ll do your hair. How would you like it, up or down?”

  “Down,” Beth replied quietly. “Tom likes it down.”

  Mary gave an approving smile. “Good girl. You’ll see. Things are going to work out just fine. I’ve got a good feeling about this marriage … a very good feeling.” She raised the gown up high. “Okay, lift up your arms.”

  • • •

  Whistle Creek’s Methodist Church hadn’t seen a wedding in more than a year and Reverend Harding was slightly peeved he didn’t have more time to prepare for the ceremony. But Earl explained the couple was anxious to catch the Tannerville train immediately after the vows.

  Harding smiled begrudgingly. Love was supposed to be patient, but he didn’t suppose the good Lord would frown upon a couple so impatient to be man and wife.

  Fortunately, Harding delivered one of his less inspiring sermons, and the minute the benediction was pronounced, the congregation filed quickly outside and scattered.

  The wedding party assembled inside immediately, Mary and Earl on Tom’s side, Bill and Davy on Beth’s. Before commencing the ceremony, Reverend Harding took a moment to make eye contact with the bride and the groom. He prided himself on being able to read people’s emotions through their eyes.

  The bride’s were puffy, but otherwise wide and expressionless. No tears of happiness or even those of trepidation as he might have expected, but eyes void of any emotion. Not knowing what to think, he turned to the groom. Tom’s eyes were dark gray, like polished steel, full of challenge and determination. They stared back at him with an unsettling intensity.

  This was not good, Harding fretted. Where was evidence of their love? He stared down into his Bible, asking God for some sign he should marry this couple. And he was given it. Out the corner of his eye, he saw Tom’s fingers search out Beth’s hand in the folds of her gown and give it a reassuring squeeze. Harding looked again into Tom’s eyes. Ah yes! That was better. He turned again to Beth.

  “Are you going to marry them or stare at them all day?”

  The minister and the entire wedding party dropped astonished looks to the shortest attendant. “Davy!” Beth reprimanded quietly.

  “Well, jeepers! We’re gonna miss the train, if’n he don’t hurry up.”

  Harding cleared his throat. “Yes, of course, I forgot. Let us begin then. Dearly beloved, we are gathered here this day in the presence of God and these witnesses to join this man and this woman … ”

  The wedding was performed without frills, and it was over quickly. Had she given her vows? Beth wondered. She vaguely remembered repeating the words the minister had spoken to her, so she supposed she had. And she recalled Tom sliding a ring on her finger and that she had the presence of mind to wonder how he’d acquired it on such short notice, but she remembered little else.

  Tom kissed her cheek and backed away. In a daze, she looked forward. Reverend Harding was smiling at her. She turned to her right. Tom was smiling at her. Beyond him, Mary was smiling. Everyone was smiling. Except Bill and he seldom smiled. In the presence of so many happy faces, Beth smiled, too. I must be married, she thought, her sensibilities numb.

  The train whistle startled them all into action. “We’d better get going.” Tom quickly thanked the minister and shook his hand, discretely paying him for his services. He faced Beth. “Ready?” She didn’t reply. “Beth?”

  Mary stepped forward. “You men go on ahead and hold the train. I want to speak with Beth before she leaves. Go on now. You too, Davy.”

 
; “But she’ll miss the train.”

  “The train will wait a few minutes. Now shoo!”

  Tom strode down the aisle, holding Davy’s hand. They grabbed their luggage and exited the church. Bill and Earl followed.

  Mary turned to Harding. “Reverend, do you mind if I have a few minutes alone with Beth?”

  “Oh! Why no, not at all.” Harding graciously made a hasty retreat, leaving the two women alone in the church.

  Mary steered Beth into the front pew, sat her down and then pinched her pale cheeks firmly.

  Beth jumped, and her eyes blinked wide and startled.

  “Finally, a spark of recognition,” Mary uttered with satisfaction, brushing her thumbs across Beth’s cheeks, now blotchy pink. “Beth, I know everything has happened so fast you’re in a state of shock, but you’re going to have to pull yourself together. There are three people outside depending on you. It won’t benefit anyone except your uncle if you fall apart now. Do you hear?”

  Beth nodded.

  “Fine. I want you to walk out of this church straight and tall and proud, and get on that train. You’re Mrs. Tom Carver now. Show Tom you have the courage and spirit to be his wife.”

  Courage, Beth thought. The next few days would take all the courage she had, but now she had Tom to help her. Together they would face whatever the future held. Beth hugged Mary close. “Thank you, Mary. For everything.”

  The train whistle blew again.

  “Hurry now,” ordered the matronly woman. “The train won’t wait all day.”

  Beth hiked up the long gown and ran down the length of the church and outside, meeting Tom coming up the steps to get her. Without a word, he swept her up into his arms and carried his bride across the muddy street, through the station and up the three steps into the train. Then, and only then, Mary allowed a single tear of happiness roll down her cheek.

  They made quite a spectacle, and the onlookers cheered and waved, sending the handsome blacksmith and his new bride off with ovations of good wishes.

  • • •

  The melee outside the hotel woke Mead from his sleep. He rolled out of his bed (still dressed in the clothes he’d worn the night before) and rubbed his tender belly.

  “Can’t a body get some rest around here?” he muttered. His tongue felt like it was covered with dry cornmeal and his head hurt as if it had been split in two by an ax.

  He staggered to the hotel window and peered outside. The train pulled away from the station and the jubilant crowd on the platform dispersed. Mead wondered what in hell could cause such a commotion. He bent over to pull his boots on, groaning more than usual. It was such an effort, he decided to go without. He snapped his suspenders up over his shoulders, dragged on his suit jacket he’d dropped in a heap on the floor, and headed downstairs to have cup of strong coffee.

  When the waiter filled his cup, Mead asked, “What was all the hullabaloo a few minutes ago?”

  “The blacksmith and the schoolteacher just got hitched.”

  Mead sipped the hot brew. Gawd, all that fuss over a simple wed — He spewed the coffee across the pristine tablecloth. “The teacher you say? What’s her name?”

  “Miss Patterson. Well, Missus Carver, now. It was quite a sight, really, him carrying her to the train. Ought to be some honeymoon, though. Took her two younger brothers with them. Tell you when I get married, I don’t plan on taking company. It’ll be just me and the missus.”

  Mead jumped to his feet, raced out the door and was halfway across the muddy street before he realized he wasn’t wearing boots. Leaving a trail of mud through the hotel, he headed back to his room for his boots. He needed to talk to the lawyer right away.

  On his way out a minute later, he stopped at the front desk to get directions to Lanson’s residence. Mead arrived just as Lanson was heading out the door.

  “Excuse me, sir,” Mead accosted, winded from his short run. “I was wondering if I could have a moment of your time.”

  “I’m sorry, but I’m on my way out.” Lanson closed the door.

  Mead tagged along on his heels. “But this is important. I came to Whistle Creek to get my nephews, but their sister and her new husband up and whisked them away right from under my nose.”

  Lanson smiled as he continued down the street. “Tom Carver is definitely a man of action.”

  The comment made no sense to Mead. “I was hopin’ maybe you’d help me get them boys back. I kin pay ya.”

  Lanson stopped and turned. “I’m very sorry, but I don’t think I can be of any assistance to you.”

  “Why the hell not?” Mead asked.

  “I’m afraid it would constitute a conflict of interest.”

  “What’s that mean?”

  “It means I have already agreed to represent Mr. and Mrs. Carver and her brothers, so I cannot possibly help you. Nor would I want to.”

  “What!” Mead was flabbergasted.

  “Yes, we plan to take this matter before the judge in Tannerville. When we’re finished, I sincerely doubt you will be allowed to own a dog. Good day, sir!” With a smug smile, Lanson pivoted on his heels and continued down the street.

  Mead growled. Good day? Hell fire, it wouldn’t be a good day until those boys were back on the farm slopping hogs and feeding chickens.

  Mead ran to the train station to buy a ticket for Tannerville. There wouldn’t be another until tomorrow morning. He cursed his luck, but down the street, he saw the lawyer enter the bank. Good. Lanson would have to wait too.

  • • •

  The clerk at the Imperial Hotel in Tannerville sympathized with the man across the counter, but there was simply nothing he could do. “Perhaps if you had telegraphed ahead,” he said in way of an apology.

  Tom nodded. “Yeah, I guess I should have.” He picked up the lone key, stared at it and dropped it in his pocket. “Thanks anyway.”

  “You’re welcome. Enjoy your stay, sir.”

  Beth waited beside a large potted plant, looking very conspicuous in her wedding gown.

  “They’ve only one room available,” Tom explained, his voice tight and controlled.

  “Oh,” said Beth, and then “Oh,” again, this time more emphatically when she realized the significance of what Tom had just told her. “What about another hotel?”

  “There’s the Regal, but it’s not the sort of place we’d want to stay.”

  Beth glanced at Bill and Davy sitting in luxurious brocade armchairs. Their eyes were agog, absorbing the sights like two sponges soaking up liquid.

  “But surely the Regal would be better than four in one room,” Beth reasoned.

  Tom smiled indulgently. “Beth, most people who go there pay by the hour.”

  “By the hour? What good is an hour’s sleep?”

  Tom stared at her, waiting for her to comprehend.

  “Oh.” Color rose in her cheeks.

  Tom started picking up the baggage. “They promised to bring up a couple of cots for the boys later on. Come on, let’s get settled in.”

  Their room was up the stairs and three doors down the hall. Tom unlocked and swung the door wide. Davy was the first through.

  Tom contemplated putting the bags down to carry his bride across the threshold, but somehow with Bill and Davy staying in the same room, the custom seemed rather ludicrous. After all, this wasn’t exactly what he’d call a conventional honeymoon, especially when he considered the reason the wedding took place so hastily.

  “After you,” he said, motioning with the luggage for Beth to enter.

  Davy was on the bed, bouncing wildly. The joints of the old brass bed squeaked in objection. Something compelled Beth to look at Tom at the exact moment he looked at her. She glanced away. Suddenly it seemed as if the bed were the only piece of furniture in the room.

  “Stop it, Davy!” she scolded. “Beds aren’t made for bouncing on.” Especially this one. And especially when there’s going to be four in the room. She dared not look at Tom, but she wondered if he was thinking the
same thing.

  Mercifully, Bill broke the awkward silence. “Hey, Davy! Let’s go see if they’ve got an indoor toilet somewhere. I bet they do, a fancy place like this.”

  “Wow!” Davy bounced off the edge to the floor.

  Beth realized she was about to be alone in a room with her husband and a bed. Though she knew it was absurd, she felt anxious. “Wait a minute!” she erupted, then unable to think of a suitable excuse to keep the boys in the room, she ordered, “At least, take off your good jackets and ties.” Within seconds, jackets and ties landed on the bed and the boys charged off to explore the facilities.

  Tom laughed and set the luggage down, giving the door a kick behind him to close it. “Kids!” he chuckled.

  Beth laughed too, more nervous than amused.

  “Well, might as well unpack.” Tom skirted around the foot of the bed to the armoire where he hung up his clothes. She tried to do the same, discovering too late there wasn’t room along the side for both of them to stand.

  “Oh, here, let me get out of your way.” He carefully stepped around the bed as if touching her skirt might be lethal.

  It took Beth all of one minute to hang up the clothes she and her brothers brought. She could feel Tom watching her and she wished she could crawl inside the closet herself and shut the doors. She needed time to sort through her emotions. With all the rush and confusion of getting married and catching the train, she hadn’t given tonight any thought.

  What would happen between them, she wondered. It was their wedding night. If the situation were different, if it were just Tom and her alone in the room, then she had a pretty good idea what they’d be doing in that bed. A tingle she now recognized as desire raced through her and she forced it to cease. Nothing would be happening tonight. Or would there, she wondered. What if he pressed her into performing her marital duties? What if the boys overheard?

  She calmed herself. Tom wouldn’t put that kind of pressure on her, she was certain, but still she worried. What if her nearness aroused him beyond the limits of common sense? What if his nearness aroused her beyond the limits?