Mona Hodgson - [Hearts Seeking Home 01] (2 page)

“Being ill on your wedding day is a serious problem, don’t you think?” Hattie arched her thick eyebrows. “I should let your mother know.”

“No need to make a fuss.”

“But if you’re ill, you should postpone the ceremony.”

Anna sighed. Hattie knew a lot about life for her sixteen years, but her mother had little in common with Anna’s. Bette Pemberton may be willing to postpone a wedding due to the jitters, but
Mutter
would have no such inclination. Mutter’s heart was set on this wedding, her mind made up. Anna regretted the day she’d mentioned Boney’s surprising proposal and her refusal.

No, she couldn’t postpone the ceremony. The sitting room brimmed with guests. According to Hattie’s earlier report, Boney had spiffed up splendidly for the occasion. His boss, Garrett Cowlishaw, captain of the wagon caravan, stood with Boney and the pastor. And three of Boney’s fellow trail hands were part of the crowd who had come to see them wed. She couldn’t disappoint them. Most of all, she couldn’t disappoint Boney.

Drawing in a deep breath, Anna released her grip on the bench and pressed the silk ribbon at her waist. “I’m feeling a bit nervous, is all.” She nearly laughed at the absurdity of her understatement. She was far more than a tad or a smidge nervous. She hadn’t expected to marry so soon after her eighteenth birthday. Ever, really. Not since Dedrick died, not now that she had to look after Mutter and Großvater.

But marriage to Boney would give her a life apart from them. Somewhat, anyway.

“Anna?” Hattie’s voice brought her back to reality. “You’re nervous about the ceremony?”

Nervous about all of it. The wedding
and
the marriage. Nervous about the
caravan of wagons that would take her and her family away from Saint Charles. She was six when Mutter moved them to the riverside Missouri town to live with Großvater. For twelve years, she’d called Saint Charles her home. Keeping her reservations to herself, Anna smoothed the lace collar on her dress.

“If you’re having—”

“I’ll be fine. I’m sure it’s customary for a bride-to-be to feel anxious.” Was she trying to reassure Hattie or herself? Anna couldn’t say with certainty.

“Customary, yes, but to the point of becoming ill?” Hattie lifted the loose curl at Anna’s ear and returned to her task. “You and Boney have been good friends for many years.”

Anna dipped her chin in a short nod. “Most of my way through school. The year before Boney left for the war, he played Joseph in the Christmas pageant, and I played Mary.”

Hattie nodded, her hat brim bouncing again. “Friends, yes. But marriage, well, that’s a lifelong commitment.” She picked up the strands of hair she’d left hanging and began plaiting them.

Marriage hadn’t been a lifelong commitment for Anna’s parents. When she was a girl, her father had walked away and never looked back. Anna worried the seam in her muslin dress. Her friendship with Boney was largely based on the past, before the war. He had been the closest friend of her brother, Dedrick.

When Boney returned to Saint Charles a month ago with his condolences for the loss of her brother, she and Boney shared memories and commiserated over the damage the war had done. He witnessed its ill effects on her mother. In their subsequent visits, he said Anna deserved to have a better life, to be cared for instead of having to do all the caring. Then he up and proposed marriage.

“Are you having second thoughts?” Hattie asked.

Second
thoughts? Third and fourth thoughts. She felt more like crawling under the bed than standing at Boney’s side in front of the pastor. And the cacophony of voices from the other side of the door did nothing to bring her peace. Still, she couldn’t change her mind now. Not with plans made and witnesses gathered. Not after the way she’d turned Boney down, then shown up at the men’s camp with a change of mind.

Hattie tucked the tails of the loose braids into the chignon, then met Anna’s gaze in the mirror. “Boney’s return and proposal was a bit of a whirlwind.
And this wedding is quite sudden.” She lifted an eyebrow. “Are you marrying Boney for love?”

Swallowing the bitter lump in her throat, Anna nodded. Of course she loved Boney. Everyone did. What wasn’t to love about him? He was generous and lighthearted. A hard worker. Not only was he a trail hand for the caravan of wagons that would depart Saint Charles next week, but he’d been helping Großvater ready their wagon for the trip. And Boney had loved Dedrick as a brother.

Anna’s breath caught. She loved Boney like a brother. Mutter’s prompting had influenced her, but it wasn’t what had persuaded her to change her mind and marry Boney.
Dedrick
. She’d been desperate to feel close to her brother. When she saw Boney standing in Großvater’s kitchen, she felt hope stir inside her. Boney helped her remember her brother.

But was that enough reason for her to marry him?

“Perhaps if you stood and rinsed your face.” Hattie glanced at the washstand in the corner.

Anna nodded. Her thoughts had been untangled. It was time she did the same for her insides. It would feel good to stretch a bit. She walked to the wooden stand. While Hattie tipped the pitcher and poured water into the bowl, Anna pulled her washcloth from its peg.

“Thank you.”

Hattie returned the pitcher to the shelf. “I only wish there was more I could do to help you.”

“You’ve helped more than you know.” More than Anna was ready to say. She still had a question to answer. Was having shared memories of her brother enough of a foundation on which to build a lifelong marriage?

Anna plunged the cloth into the cold water, then wrung out the excess. She’d just pressed the cool refreshment to her face when the door clicked open. She peered over the top of the cloth as Mutter swept into the room, swaying and swerving toward the washstand. Had she been drinking with guests in the house? A wave of heat burned Anna’s neck.

Dedrick may have been Anna’s motivation to accept Boney’s proposal, but Mutter had probably been his reason for asking. Boney thought he could save her from Mutter’s unquenchable grief.

Hattie closed the door and joined them at the bowl. “I just finished Anna’s hair.”

Mutter tugged at the wrinkled sleeves on her shirtwaist. “Anna, you’ve kept Mr. Hughes waiting long enough.” The stench of whiskey hung in the air between them, taunting Anna.

Hattie sighed, her jaw tight. “Ma’am, Anna isn’t feeling well.”

Again ignoring Hattie, Mutter took the washcloth from Anna and dropped it into the bowl. The splash spotted Anna’s pink skirt. “You’re excited, is all.”

“But this is happening so fast,” Anna said. “I don’t—”

“Nonsense.” Mutter yanked a towel from its peg and studied her. “You still look a little pale, but a brisk walk across the continent will cure that.” She pressed the towel into Anna’s hand. “Now dry your face and follow me.”

It wasn’t how she looked that concerned Anna, but how she felt about this marriage. Feelings weren’t something Mutter cared to concern herself with.

Anna fell into line behind Mutter, taking slow steps toward the door. The jitters were threatening to topple her when she felt Hattie’s hand on her arm.

With one hand on the doorknob, Mutter grabbed Anna’s hand, pulling her arm from Hattie’s grip. “This isn’t the time for lollygagging.”

Caleb Reger watched the bride’s mother disappear through a side door. He stood beside a bookcase in the corner of the Gobens’ sitting room, formulating a list of other things he’d rather be doing. Should be doing. So far, he’d come up with fifteen—inspecting wagons, checking the dry goods store for supplies, studying
Horn’s Overland Guide
, washing his socks … One week from today, the Boone’s Lick Company of wagons would roll out of Saint Charles, headed west. He should’ve stayed back at camp with Isaac. He didn’t need to be here. It wasn’t as if the boss were getting hitched. But Garrett Cowlishaw and four of his five hands
were
here. And one of them was about to make a big mistake.

A man didn’t take a job on a wagon train then get married right before the long, taxing journey. Boney Hughes had seemed so levelheaded until Miss
Goben showed up at their camp last Friday. The poor fellow hadn’t been thinking clearly for days now. And neither was the boss, to be standing up for Boney in the ceremony. Made no sense at all.

The two men stood in front of the hearth, deep in conversation. It wasn’t too late for Garrett to talk some sense into Boney. Caleb shook his head. His father would never have agreed to officiate the ceremony. Nor would Reverend Reger have conducted a wedding without a proper courtship and permission from the parents involved. Where he came from, folks didn’t marry inside a house. Weddings were sacred rites, deserving nothing less than the sanctity of God’s church. Nothing about this felt right.

“You been to a wedding before?” Tiny scrubbed his smooth cheek with a hand the size of a grizzly claw.

“My sister’s.”

“They take long?”

“They can. Especially if the bride’s fussy.”

“Your sister, was she fussy?”

Caleb shook his head. “Her ceremony was said and done in less than twenty minutes.” Caleb glanced toward the closed door where he presumed the bride was readying herself. Thus far, Miss Goben wasn’t quick about it. She had near to twelve folks, mostly men, stuffed into a room with seating for five. Among them were Otto Goben, the bride’s grandfather, Charles Pemberton, who had come with his sister, and Frank Marble, the other trail hand present. Three children crowded around Mrs. Brantenberg and a Mrs. Rafferty, who wasn’t going on the caravan.

Another five minutes passed before the bride’s mother reopened the side door and stepped into the room.

“Good.” Tiny’s attempt at a whisper was a wasted effort. “Looks like it’ll be over soon.”

Caleb nodded, hoping Tiny was right.

Hand in hand with her daughter, the older woman nodded toward Otto. He pulled his mandolin from a side table and started playing an upbeat rhythm. Then she turned expectantly to her daughter.

Without moving into the room, Miss Goben stared at Boney. The color drained from her face. She looked frozen in place as she motioned for Boney to come to her.

Boney left Garrett’s side and walked to Miss Goben.

When the music stopped, the bride’s mother swept faded brown hair from her face. “Keep playing, Vater.”

When Otto resumed the melody, the mother jerked her attention back to the bride and groom. “This isn’t—”

Boney raised his hand, one finger lifted. “We need a moment, ma’am.”

“But—”

Ignoring the mother, Boney held his arm out to Miss Goben. When she laid her hand on his jacket sleeve, he escorted her out the front door. The bride’s mother wasn’t the only one left with wide eyes and a slack jaw. Caleb closed his mouth. Miss Hattie Pemberton took quick steps to her brother Charles’s side.

Tiny attempted another whisper. “And this? What’s this?”

“Unusual.”

“Think she went cold on him?”

“May have.” Miss Goben was proving to be as fickle as spring weather. She’d told Boney no one minute then shown up at camp with a change of mind, as if playing with a man’s heart were an acceptable sport.

Five minutes later, Boney slipped in through the front door, his jacket open and his face long. Tugging his string tie loose, he spoke in whispers to Otto Goben. The bride’s mother fought to get a word in edgewise until her father was finally able to silence her. Boney then spoke to Garrett and the pastor before facing the small crowd.

Pressing his felt hat to his chest, Boney cleared his throat. “Thank you all for coming to share in mine and Anna’s … uh, merriment. While we regret any hardship we have caused you in joining us, Miss Goben and I have decided not to wed.”

Murmurs swept across the room until a door creaked at the back of the house and the bride’s mother marched out of the room.

Caleb followed Boney and the other hands out the front door.

When they reached the hitching rail, Frank slapped his misshapen felt hat on his thigh and looked at Boney. “When I saw you talkin’ to her at that first wagon train meeting, I figured she was trouble. A young woman like that alone at a town meeting? Just ain’t right.”

Boney shook his head and took off toward camp. Poor fellow expected to
be wed and spending the night with his bride. Now, like the rest of them, he was stuck with a bunch of trail hands.

Caleb hadn’t remembered seeing Anna Goben at the town meeting. But she was unforgettable now. And Frank was right—she was trouble. Boney was a good man. A better man than deserved having to do Miss Goben’s dirty work, having to stand in front of everyone with his heart broken, or at the least his pride wounded. And now the young woman would be traveling west with them.

Unless she planned to back out of the trip too. Wouldn’t hurt Caleb’s feelings any if she did.

M
utter stood in Anna’s bedchamber, her fists planted on her hips and her face tight. “Everyone’s gone. Including your grandfather.”