Train Station Bride (3 page)

“Like Gloria and Will?” Flossie asked.

“You know what I mean, Floss. Harry suits you and you suit him, but he didn’t stand around mooney-eyed reading poetry. You needed a husband, Harry needed a wife, and you two seem to do just fine.”

Flossie barked a laugh. “You still don’t know, do you?”

“Know what?” Jake asked.

“Harry and I did plenty of courting, including more than just kissing right there behind that barn,” Flossie said and pointed. “Even some poetry and flowers. Just because Harry and I don’t hang all over each other in public like Gloria and Will doesn’t mean there isn’t something special about what we do with each other and for each other in private.”

Jake looked away and made a face like he had just eaten a bite of green apple. “Jeez, Flossie, don’t tell me this stuff.”

“I’m not talking about the marriage bed,” Flossie said. “I’m talking about love. Cripes sakes, anyway, Jake, you were the one that told me about getting my monthly courses. Did you think we had Danny and Millie without going to bed together?”

“I try not to think about it, Floss.”

Flossie shook her head. “Here you’ve gone and changed the subject. The problem is you’re going to the train station dragging the minister to marry a woman you’ve never even seen. You don’t know anything about her.”

“I knew plenty about Valerie Morton. That didn’t get me a bride,” Jake responded with a grim smile.

“Oh, for Pete’s sakes. When are you going to get it that not all woman are lying, pieces of uppity fluff like Miss Valerie Morton?” Flossie shouted.

“I don’t know if I ever will, Floss. I put a lot of thinking and planning into that woman, and it didn’t work out. I don’t want to do it again. The agency in New York guaranteed me Inga Crawper would arrive at the station unwed.”

Flossie closed the distance between herself and her brother. “I know you don’t want to be disappointed. I don’t want you to. You spent your whole life making sure Gloria and I had everything we needed and didn’t spend much time on yourself. But that doesn’t mean you won’t meet a woman you could love. That would make you happy. I want you to be happy, Jake.”

“If you want me to be happy, let me get to the train station on time, Flossie. This is what I want,” Jake replied.

“Harry and I and the kids will be over about six o’clock. Gloria and Will, too. If this is what you want, we intend to welcome this Inga to the family the right way. Even if she won’t understand a damn word we say.”

Jake kissed Flossie on the cheek. “I imagine you’ll make her understand. You’ve never had too much trouble getting your point across. I can’t see a little problem like a foreign language stopping you. Now get on home before Harry sees you riding alone. You got your six-shooter, don’t you?”

Flossie climbed in the saddle, blew a kiss to Jake and turned her horse towards home. “I’ll be careful. Harry knows where I was going. I left him in the barn holding Millie, hollering his head off. I imagine he’ll be about done screaming by the time I get home.”

* * *

Jake was whistling a tune by the time he pulled into town. It was a glorious day, he was going to be married and his sister had come to terms with his decision. If Flossie accepted Inga, then the rest of the family would follow suit. That was a load off Jake’s mind. Nothing, not this marriage, nor the land or his parent’s graves were as important to Jake as family. He would have died before letting anything happen to Flossie or Gloria and Millie and Danny. He imagined that sentiment extended to Harry and Will as well. And he knew Gloria and Flossie felt the same way. They would make Inga’s transition smooth and would learn to love her even if he didn’t. It was how his family worked. The result of three children left alone to defend and feed themselves on the prairie. Through tornadoes, hunger and grief they had never deserted each other.

Chapter Three

Julia’s train trip was dirty and hot. But she did enjoy looking out the window at the changing scenery and tried not to dwell on what she had left behind. She would arrive in a few hours in the town of Cedar Ridge.

Early that morning she had carried her valise to the water closet. She had rinsed her mouth and changed her dress and underclothes in the small room. It had been a battle nearly lost in the tiny, bouncing cupboard. But she was seated now and cooled down in the breeze in a pale yellow, cinched waist organdy dress. Julia had repined her hair and settled a matching yellow hat with chin-length netting that covered her whole face. For the trip she had forgone the heavy boning under her traveling suit, but this morning had managed to get a full set of petticoats, corsets and stays in the right place. Julia certainly didn’t want Mr. Snelling to meet her dressed in less than the proper way. She needed to make a good impression. There would be no going back.

Jane Crawford would be proud, Julia thought with a wry smile. I will manage to arrive in a prairie town looking every inch the proper Boston lady. Matching hat, gloves and reticule. A fitted, fashionable gown that showed off her pale coloring to the best effect. She had managed to hold back tears most of the trip. As the conductor called out Cedar Ridge, she did not know if she could any longer. She refused to admit to herself she was scared to death. Petrified. Of a new town far away from everyone and everything she ever knew. A man. A marriage. All the things she was sure she wanted.

Julia forced a smile to her face and imagined meeting her future husband for the first time. If she held her purse strings tight enough, Mr. Snelling would never see how badly her hands shook. If she pulled the yellow netting down over her chin, demurely, he would never see her lips tremble and the terror in her eyes. She would nod and speak little so he did not hear the tremor in her voice. She would meet his mother and settle into the small house with her. Maybe Mr. Snelling would take her to dinner tonight. Begin to get to know each other before their wedding next Saturday. Dear Lord, she thought, I’ll be married next Saturday.

The train began to slow down, and Julia could see from the window a huge crowd of people milling about. Banners were hung, and she thought she could hear the blare of an Oompah band. It looked as though the train tracks ran right through the middle of a town that sprawled out in all directions and was larger than she had expected. Her mouth was dry and her nerves shakier with each slowing chug of the train and each passing street sign. Finally the locomotive stopped with a loud steamed belch, and other passengers stood up in the aisle. Julia rose, took a deep breath and wondered what had ever prompted her to reply to Mr. Snelling’s ad.

Julia stood on the step of the train and looked at the vast crowd of people. Her departure from her lifetime home was the least of her problems at this moment. How would she ever find Mr. Snelling in this crush?

The conductor shouted in her ear that her trunks and bags were being deposited on the boardwalk, one car down. Julia thanked him and hurried to find her things. It was difficult, working her way through the throng especially being at best shoulder height with some of the shorter men and women. She found her leather strapped trunk and her other bags and planted herself beside them, looking through the mob for a fiftyish, balding, thin man. It was impossible. She couldn’t see further than a lapel. She stood on tiptoe with no better results. Julia had to get a better view but didn’t want to leave her luggage to find a higher vantage point.

Julia stared down at her trunk. Glory hallelujah. Her trunk. She would stand on it and have a clear view of all the faces milling about. Her mother and Jolene would have a fit if they knew what she was thinking of doing. Better though to imagine their censure than find herself east bound if she couldn’t find Mr. Snelling. She had no doubt her father would be sending someone to escort her home. Julia had to be married when that day arrived.

* * * *

Jake inched his way through the crowd, Pastor Phillips in tow. He had forgotten completely about the Founder’s Day Celebration. Town was packed with every farmer, rancher and their families for miles around. He wondered if Flossie was keeping her family home because of his new bride coming to town. If so, Danny and Millie would have a thing or two to say to their Uncle Jake about missing the biggest party of the year. He didn’t need to crane his neck much to look for his bride-to-be. He towered over most of the crowd. And he figured Miss Crawper would be easy to spot. A woman near six foot tall. He guessed she’d be blonde. Hadn’t he read somewhere that most folks from those Norwegian countries were blonde? Jake straightened up as he saw upswept blonde hair under a yellow hat. He grabbed the Pastor’s arm and yanked him through the crowd.

“Miss Crawper,” he shouted when he finally got close enough. “I’m Jake Shelling.” The train shifted on the track as the woman turned. Jake couldn’t hear her reply but he could see the gauzy fabric moving in front of her mouth.

Miss Crawper sure was gussied up in fancy clothes for a widow woman just off the boat. Jake didn’t know much about fashions but having listened to his two sisters for as many years as he had made him sure this woman was wearing expensive, fashionable clothing. He introduced Pastor Phillips over the roar of the crowd. The woman seemed to stand in a daze. But then Jake realized she had no idea what he was talking about.

“And you’re sure you want to do this, Miss Crawper?” Pastor Phillips shouted.

The woman’s head turned from the Pastor and back to Jake. The crowd shouted in unison as the woman replied, and he was being elbowed and bumped by every man jack that went by. Jake was pretty sure she had repeated her name.

“We know who you are,” Jake said slowly and very loud as if he were talking to a child. He pointed to his chest, then to her, then to the bible held in the minister’s hand. He motioned as if putting a ring on his finger. She nodded.

Pastor Phillips took the woman’s hand, placed it in Jakes’ and opened his book. She looked up at him and then at the pastor. He couldn’t see her face clearly, but he could tell she was a beautiful woman. He had expected her to be big-boned. But for her near six foot, this woman was dainty. Not skinny with no meat on her bones but round, and soft and sweet smelling. Delicate looking and shiny as the intricate yellow fabric she wore. Just glowing like the sun from the top of her yellow hat to the matching purse.

The pastor elbowed Jake as he closed his book. Jake slipped the ring over white gloves … and hell’s fire. His bride had fainted. Jake caught her in his arms as the crowd began to thin away to watch the rodeo scheduled in the pasture behind the train station. Pastor Phillips was fanning her with his hat. Jake held his new bride in his arms easily and surveyed her from her head to her yellow shoes. Hell, this woman wasn’t six foot tall. She wasn’t five foot tall. Jake looked down at the station platform beside him. A black trunk sat there. Good God. She’d been standing on a trunk. This couldn’t be Inga Crawper. Who in the hell had he just married?

* * *

Julia woke up slowly as the air around her cooled. At first she hadn’t the foggiest notion where she was. Then she thought she was having her favorite dream. Waking up in the arms of a handsome man. But she wasn’t in her bedroom in Boston. She was in South Dakota.

Everything tumbled back in to her mind. The dreadful shouting and noise that had kept her from hearing her own wedding words were now distant. Her wonder as to why Mr. Snelling had changed his plans, marrying her here and now and not waiting a week as he had written her. Her shock when she got her first look at her husband to be. He would have been a giant had she not been standing on her trunk. The train had pulled away, and the platform where her trunks sat was near empty.

Julia was too petrified too move. Her husband wore a hat so she could did see his balding head. He was much more handsome than she’d expected. And big. How could have his own mother worried he were too thin? He looked as though he could lift the train from the tracks had he wanted. He wasn’t fat but he was nothing like the spindly, shy man she had envisioned. And to her gross mortification she had fainted in his arms.

“Mr. Snelling?” she asked.

“It’s Jake Shelling. Who the hell are you?” he replied.

“Mr. Snelling, you mean. Mr. Jacob Snelling. My fiancé. Why I’m your bride,” Julia said. He was staring down at her and then turned with a monstrous look to the minister.

“Give me that license, Pastor,” he said.

The man in black pursed his lips and shook his head. “Nope. I married ya right and proper, Jake. This here’s your bride. For better or worse.”

Julia turned her head and he did as well when they heard shouting from the train depot house. “Miss Crawford. Miss Julia Crawford?”

Julia fluttered her hands against his chest. “Please put me down. Someone’s calling my name.”

“Julia Crawford,” he said.

“Yes,” she replied as her husband lowered her to the wooden platform. She lifted her hand in a wave. “I’m Julia Crawford. I mean, I was, I mean …” A thin, balding man was hurrying to her. Julia looked at her giant of a husband and back to the man calling her name frantically. When she saw an aging woman trailing behind the man, recognition occurred.

“Mr. Snelling,” she whispered. As the man came towards her motioning the older woman along she realized he was the man she was to have married. Julia looked up to the man beside her and back to the thin man holding his hat and calling her name.

“Oh, dear,” she said.

The giant blew out a breath. “We got a problem, Snelling.”

“What problem, Jake? Other than you seem to be standing awful close to my fiancé,” Mr. Snelling said. He smiled wistfully. “I’d recognize her anywhere.”

“Jake here’s right, Jacob. There’s a problem. You see I already married this woman to Jake,” Pastor Phillips said.

Jacob Snelling’s smile dropped as his hat fell out of his hand.

The old woman peered around her son’s shoulder. “I told you, Jacob. You can’t trust those city women. Married the first man she saw when she got off the train.”

Julia had no idea what to say. The old woman was right. She looked up at her husband. “What did you say your name was, sir?”