Authors: Rita Hestand
Tags: #cattle drive, #cowboy, #historical, #old west, #rita hestand, #romance, #western
“Maybe, we'll see if there is time. It's
pretty late as it is.”
When they found a church, they stopped and
went to the door.
“Think anyone's going to answer?” she asked
after he rapped several times. But then the door opened and a man
with a lantern stood staring at them.
“Yes, can I help you, brother?” The man's
gentle voice rode easy on Jodi's frayed nerves.
“We want to get married…” Hunt’s voice was
deep and unemotional.
“I see. Tonight?” The man seemed a little
alarmed. He was a small man with a bald head and bushy eyebrows,
yet his smile was warm on them both.
“Yes, tonight.”
The man looked at them, then opened the door
and led them into the chapel. It was a simple church with beautiful
windows and a statue of Jesus on the wall behind the altar. Jodi
suddenly felt ill at ease. Getting married in a real church, it
seemed wrong. But then, a lot of things seemed wrong right now.
Hunt was different tonight, too. He was a
little too friendly, helping her from her horse. She got closer to
him than she wanted to, and the way he looked at her had her nerves
jangling. They looked like two bobcats ready to spring on each
other. The tension was so tight she wondered when it might
snap.
“You bring some other clothes with you,
ma'am?” the preacher asked as he eyed them suspiciously.
“Uh…no, we're on a cattle drive and I didn't
have anything.” Why couldn't men understand? Did everyone have to
make an issue of her lack of a dress?
“I'm sure my wife can fix you up with
something. She is always loaning the Mexican girls something to
wear,” the preacher insisted. “I'll go get her.”
“Really, we're sort of in a hurry.” Jodi
tried to convince the preacher, but he was having none of her
nonsense, as he called it, and walked out of the room.
He came back minutes later with his wife in
hand. “My wife, Ellen, can fix you up. Now, you run along with her.
It isn't proper to have a wedding in men's clothes.” He eyed her up
and down.
That was the word she'd been looking for all
night, proper.
Jodi frowned, but followed the woman into a
back room with half anticipation, the other dread. The woman was
being so helpful, but how could she dare tell her this was a
marriage of convenience, and not of love?
“I have just the thing,” the woman was saying
with keyed excitement in her voice as she began rummaging through a
large chest. “It's a bridal dress that one of the girls used some
time back during the war. Only” —Ellen's eyes misted— “her husband
was called the very night of the wedding to the miserable war. So
my husband married them and the groom ran off. Well, to make a long
story short, he never came back. But at least she was married and
had that much of him to remember.”
Jodi nodded as her mind temporarily fluttered
back to that time again. “The war was a terrible thing, all right.”
She didn't want to dwell on the war tonight; she had enough to
contend with.
“Such a waste. It's a pity men don't ask
women how to solve some of these problems, don't you think?” Ellen
was saying as she watched Jodi closely.
Jodi would have laughed at that had it not
been so true.
The woman pulled the dress from the trunk,
the most beautiful wedding dress Jodi had ever seen. Her eyes were
huge pools of tears as the woman spread the dress against her
quilted bed. Never had she seen anything so lovely. It was all lace
and beautiful white pearls. It was layered and had huge sleeves.
Jodi had never dreamed of wearing anything so beautiful.
“The Mexican women always have lavish dresses
for their weddings. It's their custom. This one is beyond
beautiful, isn't it?” Ellen sighed as she put it against Jodi. “And
it looks like it will be a great fit for you.”
Jodi smiled a little and tried not to be
nervous. She hated admitting she liked the dress; it was too hard
not to. She'd never seen anything so lovely.
When she had the pantaloons on and was
busying herself with the petticoats, she marveled. “It is lovely.
Too lovely for me…”
“Nonsense, my dear, you will look ravishing,”
Ellen cried with tears in her eyes. “Oh, don't mind me. Weddings
always make me cry.”
Jodi blushed and continued to put on the
dress. Trying to take her mind off the clothes and the wedding
quickly approaching, she looked at the other woman. She was plain,
yet quite beautiful too. Her hair was a lovely chestnut; her eyes
matched. She had a sweetness about her that she imagined no one
could resist. Jodi smiled at her. “Uh…Waco's much bigger than I
thought. You must have a lot of businesses in town.”
“Oh, we sure do. We have four churches, seven
saloons, and a post office. We'll soon have the railroad through
here, too. It's a growing town—excuse me, city.”
“Do you have a doctor around close?” Jodi
kept her voice normal, although she wasn't at all sure how.
“As a matter of fact, just down the street.
But…oh, he may not be in town, come to think of it. Once a month he
goes out to the country to check on patients. Why…do you need a
doctor?” The woman seemed a little alarmed.
“Oh…I was just thinking of getting some
medical supplies for our outfit. We might need them heading into
Indian Territory. Maybe if we have enough time I could check him
out.” Jodi tried to sound natural, although her heart was pounding
just thinking about finding someone to help her.
“Oh my goodness, I guess you might. He's
right down the street.” She pointed.
“Thank you, I'll check him out before we
leave.”
“Oh…that is so lovely on you,” Ellen said,
going around her and gazing at the dress as Jodi slipped into
it.
“Kind of fancy for someone like me. I haven't
been in a dress in longer than I can remember. Actually, since my
ma died. But a dress like this…I'll take good care of it and be
changing back into my regular clothes as soon as the ceremony is
over.”
“Nonsense, the dress isn't mine, dear. No one
I know fills it out the way you do. You keep it…consider it a
wedding present,” Ellen insisted, smiling at her.
“But what about the woman it belongs to?
Don't you need to return it?”
Ellen fiddled with Jodi's hair, putting a
brush to it till it shined. “You have beautiful hair; it hangs in
ringlets down your back, just beautiful. But no dear. Poor thing,
she wasted away when her man didn't come back. She moved away just
last spring.”
“But I can't pay for this…” Jodi
insisted.
“No need to, dear. It's a wedding present.”
Ellen smiled. Jodi knew instantly that the woman would be insulted
if she tried to give her money or insisted she take it back. So,
she wore it.
Jodi wanted to yank the dress off and throw
it at someone, namely Hunter Johnson, but it would be so rude and
it was the most beautiful dress she'd ever seen. But there seemed
something wrong in wearing such a dress to a farce of a wedding.
Ellen didn't understand that this so-called wedding was just a
ruse. She needed this night over with. She felt it was getting
totally out of hand.
As she entered the room where Hunt was, his
face lit up when he saw her. She hadn't looked at herself, but she
knew she had cleaned up well just from looking at him. His eyes
burned into hers now.
He had slicked his hair back and added a
Bolero tie, and he had put on a clean white shirt and black leather
vest. He looked quite handsome, even to Jodi; but then, she had
always found him handsome.
Ellen sat down at the old piano in the corner
and began playing the wedding march. She was smiling at them as
they joined each other in front of the altar a little shyly.
“Well now, what is your full given name,
young lady?” the preacher asked.
“Jodi Elizabeth Ann Parker,” she muttered,
hoping Hunt wouldn't remind her of her name later.
“And yours, sir?”
“Hunter Neil Johnson,” Hunt said, taking
Jodi's hand in his.
She sighed heavily as his large, callused
hand took in the softness of a woman.
“Where you from?” the preacher asked.
“As of late, Esser Crossing.”
“All right.” The preacher smiled and printed
out this information on a piece of paper. “Are you of marrying age,
young lady?”
“I'm nineteen, nearly twenty,” she said,
clearing her throat.
“And you, sir?”
“Twenty-five,” he said, still staring at
Jodi.
“Are you Christians?”
They both nodded.
“Good.”
Then, the preacher smiled and began the words
that would make them—
—man and wife.
≈≈≈
Hunt glanced at his bride from the corner of
his eye and noticed the pink cheeks. Cleaned up, she looked
beautiful with her hair hanging down her back. He'd never tell her
such a thing, but he dreamed of winding his finger over those
curls.
Jodi looked solemn during the short ceremony
and didn't utter a protest when the preacher told him he could kiss
the bride.
Hesitantly, Hunt took Jodi into his arms and
slowly, methodically, he pulled her into his embrace. Shutting out
the frown on her face, he kissed her.
To his surprise and amazement, her lips were
butter soft and somewhat responsive. He felt a quiver of reaction
as her lips moved slightly. He sucked in a breath and held her
close. She was small, but full in all the right places, and yet,
the contrast of soft against hard hit home. She was a fully grown
woman and his natural reactions set in as her mouth twitched and
she pushed him away.
The preacher smiled again as Hunt placed a
five dollar gold piece in his hand. Jodi hadn't moved from his
arms, and he cast her a quick glance before he thanked the preacher
and his wife.
They walked in unison out the door, never
looking back. Silence filled the air.
After a long moment of staring across the
street, Hunt turned to look at her. She quietly reveled in his open
admiration of her. Had they been two other people in this
situation, things might have been different.
“Why don't you stay here while I run over to
the saloon to see if I can pick up a man or two?” Hunt suggested.
“Are you taking that dress with you?”
“Well…yes, the preacher's wife gave it to
me,” she answered with a flush. “I was too embarrassed to give it
back to her after she offered it so nicely as a wedding
present.”
“Looks real nice on you, too. I'll be back
soon. Just stay here.” He smiled at her before he crossed the
street to the saloon.
≈≈≈
She shook the euphoria away; this was a
chance to check on the doctor. She had to. She might only have a
few minutes, but she wasn't going to miss the chance.
She walked down the boardwalk until she found
the shingle hanging from the roof of one of the buildings. She saw
no light on, but perhaps he was merely sleeping. It was late.
She knocked, but no one came. She knocked
again. Then, she heard someone. The door opened slowly, and a woman
peeked her head around from it. “Yes?”
“Is the doctor in?” Jodi asked in an almost
whisper.
“No, he's gone out to the country. Won't be
back till the end of the week, probably. Why, is there anything I
can do?”
Jodi felt frustration swamp her as she idly
wondered if God himself were against her. “No, I guess not.”
“Is someone hurt?” the woman asked, her dark
brows knitting into a frown.
“No, I just needed…oh, never mind.” And she
ran back down the boardwalk. Tears were streaming down her cheeks,
but she quickly wiped them away. It wouldn't do for Hunt to see her
crying.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Hunt entered the saloon and went directly to
the bar. He needed something to distract him. He had to come here.
He couldn't spend another minute with Jodi in that dress without
making her his. It was an impossible situation. Still, he had to
deal with it logically. Jodi certainly didn't love him, and he
didn't love her, did he? No, he merely admired her for her spunk
and abilities. That was all. No use putting more meaning into it.
He knew how she felt about him.
Just because they got married didn't mean he
had to love her, did it? Well, maybe it did, if he considered how
he had been raised. Marriage was a holy union and he knew that. But
this wasn't a usual wedding, and Jodi certainly wasn't the usual
kind of bride. Although, she was the prettiest bride he'd ever
seen.
He didn't want to waste any time in this
town. It was too open, too much trouble. Even though saloons
catered to the rougher citizens of the town, it was the best place
to find drovers. But Hunt often found himself at odds coming into
an establishment like this because he always ordered either milk or
cider, and that got a laugh from the crowd every time.
He ordered an apple cider and asked the
barkeep, “I'm taking a herd through. Know where I might pick up a
couple of men?”
The bartender listened intently, then eyed
him without saying a word; he drew a pistol in the air and fired.
“Listen up, got a trail boss looking for drovers here. Anyone
interested, see this fella.” He pointed at Hunt.
No one stepped up, the music continued, and
Hunt sighed. He couldn't stay long; he needed to get back to the
herd. He was about to finish his cider and go when a large, tall,
black man walked up to him. He was completely bald and his eyes
were big, round saucers. His face was half way between grim and
happy, if that was possible. Hunt eyed him with curiosity.
“I need a job,” he said, looking Hunt right
in the eye.
“Ever been up the trail?” Hunt watched the
man closely.
The man never lost eye contact. His face held
honesty, Hunt decided, and he liked that. He'd seldom been wrong
about a person.
“Once.”
“Once is enough for me. Got a horse?”
The man smiled. “Now my horse is a great cow
pony, so even if I'm no good, he will be.” The black man
laughed.