A Promise to Love (7 page)

“It will only be temporary,” the judge said kindly. “In a year I'll come back through here and reevaluate the situation. Perhaps your father will have found a new mother for you by then.”

“But Grandma won't even let Pa see baby Bertie!” Agnes protested. “If you do this, she won't let Pa back inside the door. She won't let us see him at all, and Judge . . . our pa really needs us.”

“You girls need a competent woman taking care of you.” The judge's face grew stern. “I've made my decision.” He raised the gavel.

Ingrid saw Mr. Hunter's eyes dart around the courtroom, as though desperately searching for an answer. She didn't blame him. She would not want her children being cared for by someone who hated her, either. His soldier friends mumbled among themselves, but this was not a fight they knew how to wage.

Her eyes fastened upon the gavel as it began to descend, almost in slow motion. Joshua bowed his head—whether in prayer or defeat, she did not know. Instinctively, she knew that if the children were wrested from him, it would destroy him. She also knew that if Virgie was as hateful to the children as she was to him, the girls would be permanently damaged by living with her. Ingrid was only a witness to this terrible thing, but it was tearing her apart.

“Stop!” She surprised everyone—including herself—by leaping to her feet amidst this room full of people she had originally hoped would not even notice her. “I take care of children!”

There had been no conscious thought before she jumped up. It had felt almost as though an unseen hand had propelled her there.

Her face burned as everyone swiveled to stare at her, but in spite of knowing she was probably making a fool of herself in front of dozens of witnesses, she lifted her head and squared her shoulders. Ingrid knew her own worth—even if no one else in the room did. She knew she could absolutely make a good home for those little girls—and their father—if given the chance.

“I take care of children,” she repeated. “I marry him.”

In spite of the fact that dozens of people were openly gaping at her, she had eyes only for Joshua.

“I . . . marry you,” she said, praying that the Lord would open Mr. Hunter's eyes and allow him to see into her heart. Praying that Mr. Hunter would see the woman she was.

They were practically strangers, but she had never felt so sure of anything in her life than that she could build a good life with this man. She had seen the kindness in his eyes when he had stopped to inquire about her well-being this morning—when he had bigger things to worry about. She had seen the esteem in which his men held him. Most of all, she had watched him fight for his children when too many men would have gladly handed the responsibility over to their in-laws.

Well, she would help him fight. Even if it meant making a fool of herself in front of all these people. She looked hard into his eyes, willing him to see past her ragged clothes and the whip marks on her face. Her heart hammered inside her chest, and she held her breath, waiting for his response.

When she had awakened this morning, it had never occurred to her that before nightfall, she would propose marriage to a widowed stranger with five children.

Someone sniggered on the front row. The judge cast a warning glance at them and they stopped, but Ingrid knew that if Joshua did not speak soon, the whole courtroom would burst into laughter.

She had taken a desperate gamble.

“This is ridiculous!” Millicent stood and pointed at Ingrid. “That girl is my servant. She doesn't even know the man!”

“Is this true?” the judge asked.

“Now, everybody just hold your horses.” Hazel shot to her feet and put a protective hand on Ingrid's shoulder. “And I'm talking to you too, Judge. How about you just put that little wooden hammer down and give us a minute to sort this out.”

The sight of an old woman might not have been enough to stop the proceedings, but the sight of an old woman with a wolf-dog the size of a small moose standing beside her, with its hackles raised and teeth bared, definitely captured the judge's attention. He laid the gavel to one side.

“How are you involved in any of this, ma'am?”

“My name is Mrs. Samuel Smith, your honor.” Hazel drew herself up to her full height. “Me and my husband founded this town, and before I say anything else, I got a question to ask you.”

“Please make it brief.”

“Were you serious when you said if these children get a new mama, they can stay with their daddy instead of having to live with a woman bent on punishing a good man because she's hurting so bad?”

“If it appears that the stepmother will make a good home for the children, then yes, I would allow them to live with their father.”

“Welllll,” Hazel drew the word out as she cocked one eyebrow and gave Mr. Hunter a stern look. “It appears that there's been some courtin' being done around here that nobody but me's known much about. Josh here has been sparkin' my good friend Ingrid these past few days. From what I understand—and I might be wrong about this—but from what I understand, he was thinkin' of popping the question his ownself in a few months.” Hazel once again cocked an eyebrow and gave Joshua a meaningful look. “Ain't that so, Josh.”

A dead silence fell over the courtroom as everyone gawked back at Joshua.

“That's a lie!” Millicent fumed. “Joshua Hunter has not been courting that girl!”

“I don't see as you can know that for sure,” the judge said. “You wouldn't be the first woman to not know that her hired help was seeing someone behind her back.” He glanced at his pocket watch again. “What's it going to be, Mr. Hunter? It appears that you have a serious marriage proposal from a woman you evidently care about. I can perform a quick ceremony right now or the children can go home with their grandparents until I come back—which won't be soon. Your choice—but you'd better make it fast.”

Hazel motioned for Ingrid to bend down, and the old woman whispered in her ear. “Sorry about that little bitty exaggeration of mine!”

Ingrid knew that what Hazel had told the judge was a whole lot closer to a lie than an exaggeration, but she also knew that now would not be a wise time to correct her.

Joshua saw the look of longing in the hired girl's face and knew that she was only waiting for a word from him. It had taken incredible courage for her to do what she did—or incredible desperation. He had nothing but pity for the girl, but he had been placed in a terrible position. He could refuse and humiliate her
and
Hazel—and in so doing have all of his children end up in Virgie and Richard's care, where they would be well fed and well clothed. But with the venom that existed against him in that household, he did not want to gamble with how his children would feel about him a year from now. He knew that Virgie was capable of trying to turn all five of them against him.

His only other option was to go along with Hazel in this charade of having been courting this poor immigrant girl.

During the war, he had learned to use whatever means possible to win a battle with the fewest casualties. In this case, if he did not win the battle, the casualties would be the hearts of his children.

Hazel knew the girl. She would only have spoken up if she believed the girl would treat his children well. He had little to offer except food and shelter, but apparently she had nothing at all. If he was very lucky, it might turn out that she could cook—which would be quite a blessing.

It wasn't the best solution, but it was better than having to fight Richard and Virgie every time he wanted to see his children. Another pair of hands to help around the farm would be a welcome thing, and it wasn't as though he expected to ever love another woman after Diantha. One woman was as good as another to him—as long as she was good to his children. He had heard of men sending off for mail-order brides and of it working out. At least in this situation, she wasn't a complete unknown. Hazel vouching for her meant something. That woman had an eagle eye when it came to assessing a person's character.

But if he was going to marry this girl in front of all these people, it was going to be on his own terms. He would not allow this courtroom to think that he had been railroaded.

He rose, walked to where she stood, and leaned over to whisper into her ear. “What
is
your name?”

She whispered back. “Ingrid Larsen.”

He got down on one knee and took her calloused hand in his. He took in the battered men's boots, the faded dress, and the emaciated body. Then the soldier within him said in a voice loud enough for the entire room to hear: “Miss Ingrid Larsen, would you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”

 6 

“This is a joke,” Virgie Young shouted. “He doesn't even know the woman! Do you see what kind of man he is, Judge? He's marrying a complete stranger just to keep our grandchildren away from us . . . and . . . and he's a murderer!”

“Madam,” Judge Carver said, “what I see before me is an honorable man who has lost a wife and does not want to lose his children. I see a grandmother who is so distraught with grief that she has wasted the court's time with unfounded accusations.”

“But what about my daughter saying he was going to kill her?”

“Your daughter had just been delivered of a baby a few months earlier. I am certain other women have said such things about their husbands in similar circumstances.”

“But—”

“Stop it!” Richard put both hands on Virgie's shoulders and gave her a shake. “None of this is going to bring Diantha back.”

“This court is adjourned,” Judge Carver said. “Whoever wishes to witness the marriage between these two people can reconvene in exactly five minutes.”

Millicent stomped over to where Hazel and Ingrid stood, but Joshua stepped in and blocked Ingrid from her view.

“What do you want, Millicent?” he said.

“This is ridiculous,” Millicent said. “You never met the girl until yesterday.”

“As the judge pointed out”—Joshua's voice took on a dangerous-sounding edge—“you aren't the first woman ignorant of what your hired girl has been doing.”

“Well, I know she hasn't been seeing you!”

Several grouped around, watching and listening to this conversation.

“Would you like for me to describe the scene I saw yesterday in your living room, Mrs. Bowers?” Joshua drawled. “I am absolutely certain your friends here would love to know the method with which you discipline your help.”

“You wouldn't.” Millicent's voice was low and vicious.

“I would.” Joshua leaned in and lowered his voice. “If you
ever
try to hurt this woman again, in any way, you will answer to me. I promise you that you will not like my response.”

Millicent took a step backward. It was obvious that she had finally met her match.

Any doubts Ingrid might have had about this makeshift marriage dissolved as she watched her former mistress back into the crowd. Having a man who would stand up for her against an opponent as formidable as Millicent was worth every risk she was taking.

“There was a bundle of switches left on Josh's porch last night,” Virgie yelled desperately from the front. “Everyone knows that's a sign he's not fit to be a father.”

“I didn't tell a soul about that,” Joshua said, “including the children. Exactly how do
you
know about that, Virgie?”

“I . . . I . . .” Her eyes darted around the courtroom. “Somebody told me.”

“If anyone here had a hand in laying that bundle on my doorstep,” Joshua asked, “I'd take it kindly if you'd speak up.”

Not one person said a word.

“I told her not to do it, Josh,” Richard said. “But her and Almeida were set on making you think you were going to get a beating.”

“I kind of figured that,” Joshua said.

Ingrid had no earthly idea what she was supposed to do next. Was she supposed to just walk over to the judge and start saying her vows?

“Hello.” A sweet-faced young woman neatly dressed in a dove-gray dress came up to Ingrid. “My name is Susan Cain. My father preaches here in White Rock when he isn't out circuit riding to other churches.”

“Hello.” Ingrid had no idea what circuit riding meant, but it must have been a good thing, because Susan sounded like she was proud of her father.

Without another word, Susan stood up on a chair and raised her voice until it carried over the crowd. “It is customary for a bride to have something borrowed upon her person on her wedding day.”

Ingrid wondered if George's boots qualified.

Susan hopped down and pressed a lace hankie into Ingrid's hand. “Please accept this handkerchief as something borrowed. You can return it next week when you and your new husband come to call. My mother and I will be expecting you.”

Ingrid marveled at how Susan took charge of the situation. The preacher's daughter gave a meaningful look to all the other women clustered about. “I believe it is also customary for a bride to have something blue, something old, and something new?”

There was a hesitation as the other women looked at each other. Then another woman, middle-aged and stout, pushed her way through and took a lovely fringed shawl from her own shoulders. “This is something new.” She draped the shawl around Ingrid's back and arms. “My oldest girl just sent it to me all the way from New York City, and I have a perfectly good one at home. You go ahead and keep it.”

“Thank you.” Ingrid was so grateful. The shawl was a deep maroon color and beautiful. As she settled it around her shoulders, she was grateful to have at least one pretty thing to wear for her wedding.

Another woman who appeared to be an older copy of Susan fumbled with the collar of her dress and unpinned a small brooch with tiny blue beads. “I just remembered. I have something blue! Here, dear.” She fastened it onto Ingrid's dress and gave it a pat. “That will do nicely. I'm Emma Cain, Susan's mother. My husband planned to be here today, but our old cow that's about to calve wandered off and he's out trying to find her.”

Ingrid did not remember any of these women ever coming to call on Millicent, so she thought it was a safe guess that they were not friends of her former mistress.

“Well, lookee here what I just found.” Ingrid saw Private Lyman Wilson nudge Joshua's shoulder with his own. “This ole wedding ring just flopping around in my pants pocket. You suppose it would rate as something old?”

“I can't take that,” Joshua said.

“Sure you can.” Lyman held it out. “A woman needs a ring on her wedding day. Besides, it's not doing me any good without a left hand to wear it on.”

“You could wear it on your right,” Joshua pointed out.

“My Leah has been gone these past two years,” Lyman said. “I'm fixing to start courting again myself soon. Sorry if it's a little big, but you can get it fixed later on if she wants. It would be an honor for me to know your wife is wearing it.”

“Thank you, Lyman.” Joshua accepted the ring and put it safely in his breast shirt pocket.

“So you're gonna be our new ma, huh?” Agnes, still toting the littlest girl on her hip, butted her way through the crowd. People backed off to watch the confrontation between the new stepmother and Joshua's oldest girl.

It was the first time Ingrid had seen Agnes up close. Now she saw that the girl's eyes were way too old for a child her age. The other people faded into the background as Ingrid focused all her attention on Agnes. “I be good mother to you and little ones.”

“Well, I guess I could use some help with these younguns.” Agnes motioned for Ingrid to bend over. “Can I tell you a secret?”

Ingrid leaned down until her ear was even with Agnes's mouth.

“If you're ever mean or hurtful to my pa or my sisters, I'll cut your heart out with a dull spoon while you're a-sleeping and I'll feed it to the coyotes. Do you understand, lady?”

“Ja!” Ingrid straightened up and looked at the child with concern. “I understand.”

“Good.” Agnes turned an angelic smile toward everyone standing around. “Ellie and Trudy—come say hey to our new ma.”

Ingrid was still absorbing Agnes's threat when the judge called for everyone's attention.

“Will the wedding party come forward?” Judge Carver's voice boomed across the room. “I really do have to get going.”

“Come and stand up with me,” she heard Joshua say to Lyman.

Lyman looked dumbstruck. “Well, I'd be honored!”

Ingrid turned to Hazel. “Will you . . . ?”

“Why, sure, me and She-Wolf would love to stand up with you.”

Susan, who had disappeared outside for a few moments, ran back in with a bouquet of dandelions. She shoved them into Ingrid's hand. “Here. This is the best I could do. Every bride should have a bouquet.”

With a borrowed lace hankie, some woman's new fringed shawl, the preacher's wife's brooch, a bouquet of dandelions, and She-Wolf and Hazel as bridesmaids, Ingrid covenanted herself to a stranger while an ant that had been clinging to the dandelions crawled up her elbow.

And with that, Ingrid Larsen's new life began.

As he drove his family home, Joshua held the reins loosely in his hands and pondered the strange turns a man's life could take. Never in his wildest dreams would he have imagined that morning when he left his cabin that he would be bringing a new wife back with him.

He had no earthly idea what to say to the woman.

Ingrid rode in silence, her battered piece of luggage at her feet.

Even the girls seemed awed into silence by the fact that there was a strange woman going home with them.

“It will be late when we get home.” Joshua cleared his throat. “I'm afraid there's not much to eat, and I didn't have time to tidy things up before we left.”

“I can cook,” Ingrid said. “I can clean.”

Silence.

“I have a good start on a nice cherry orchard.” Joshua made another attempt. “I'm hoping to have a good crop next spring. The trees should be mature enough by then.”

“Cherries are good.”

“Yes, they are.”

Silence.

“You got any idea how to make biscuits?” Agnes spoke from the back of the wagon. “Pa's are as hard as rock. I almost broke my tooth on one last week.”

“I make good biscuits.”

This was of great interest to Agnes. “Do you know how to make gravy?”

“Ja.” Ingrid nodded.

“Biscuits and gravy sure would be tasty tonight before we go to bed,” Agnes hinted.

Ingrid looked at Joshua. “You want I make biscuits and gravy?”

“Yes!” He spoke so emphatically that the woman jumped and looked at him with concern. He hadn't realized until Agnes began talking about food how hungry he was.

“That is fine, then,” Ingrid said.

“Can you sew?” Agnes pressed.

“Ja, I sew fine.”

He waited, but the woman never said another word. She seemed content to sit in silence, so Joshua stopped trying to make conversation and concentrated on other things—like where, exactly, he would sleep tonight. His stomach rumbled. It really would be helpful if the woman could cook.