Page 11 of Chosen By Swift

Aunt Jimmie harrumphed and fluffed her mauve skirt before taking a seat. She rearranged the stylish ruffle and lace and ran her daintily gloved fingers over the exquisite embroidery. “I think your mother’s health would be much improved if your pig of a father would learn to control his vile urges.”

Alys blanched. “Aunt Jimmie!”

“If what your mother told me is true, you’ll understand that soon enough.” Aunt Jimmie pursed her lips. “The shameless gall of your father to sell you off to that disgusting beast! He’ll be lucky if I don’t box his ears before the end of the night.”

As much as Alys found comfort in her aunt wanting to fight for her, she begged, “Please don’t. Bonnie’s night has to be perfect.”

“Why? Do you think yours will be?”

She didn’t even want to imagine what her wedding and the night that would follow would be like. Even just the mention of Wendel touching her sent a sick twist of nausea through the pit of her stomach. “No,” she admitted, “but as I’m always reminded, life isn’t fair.”

“No,it isn't.” Aunt Jimmie looked toward the window and seemed to fall away into her thoughts. “It may not seem like it, but you do have choices, Alys. Your mother chose to marry your father because she loved him. I chose to marry Juan because he was kind but also very wealthy. His sisters had enough children between them to make sure the family legacy lived on, and he never minded that I couldn’t give him a child. We didn’t love each other, but we were content.”

“I reckon I’ll learn to be content, too.”

“I didn’t want that for you or Bonnie. I never wanted you girls to have to be traded like prize pigs at the fair. I told your mother I would take you both into my house and make sure you were introduced to the right people and given more options, but—”

“Mama needed us here on the farm,” Alys said, narrowly avoiding a prick of the needle. “You can’t have a family as big as ours without daughters at home to share the burden.”

“It was never your burden to share, Alys. By the time you were five, you were a second mother to your siblings. Cooking, cleaning, changing diapers, washing laundry, schooling the little ones—your whole childhood was nothing but service.”

Alys grew irritated by the unhappy and conflicting emotions her aunt seemed intent on churning up inside her. “There’s no use in talking about it now. It’s done. I’m a grown woman. Maybe my upbringing wasn’t the easiest, but I learned all the skills I need to be a good wife and a mother.”

“And that’s enough?”

“I’m a girl, Aunt Jimmie. What else could there be for me?”

Davie burst into the parlor with his shirt half buttoned and his shoes on the wrong feet. “Ally! My shoeshurtmy feets.”

Her face softened toward her youngest sibling. “Yes, I’m sure they do. Come here.” She set aside the veil. “Let’s get you dressed.”

“Sorry, Alys!” Clive ran into the parlor as she laced Davie’s right shoe. “I turned my back for five seconds, and he ran.”

“I’m sure it was only five seconds.” She pinned him with a knowing glance, and his ears turned red at being caught goofing around. After she finished Davie’s shoes, she handed him off to Clive. “Get out to the wagon. Adam is waiting. I’ll be right out.”

Clive and Davie left the house, and Brandon and Darby were only a minute behind them. She reached for the veil and found Aunt Jimmie sewing the last beads into place. She knotted the thread in an inconspicuous spot and held it out at arm’s length to be sure it was hidden.

“Thank you.” Alys put away her sewing notions in her battered hand-me-down basket and stood. She brushed the front of her dress to make sure there weren’t any errant beads or bits of thread clinging to the fabric. She pinned her hat into place and gave herself one last look in the entryway mirror.

They arrived with plenty of time to help Bonnie into her veil. As she adjusted the combs in Bonnie’s silky sable hair, Alys noticed her sister’s nervous reflection in the mirror of the church anteroom. “You look beautiful, Bonnie.” Alys fluffed her sister’s veil. “Graham is going to be so happy when he sees you.”

“I hope so,” Bonnie said tremulously.

“Bonnie?” There was something in her sister’s voice that sparked concern. “Are you sure—?”

“It’s time,” Father announced in his booming, no-nonsense voice.

Immediately, both girls tensed. EvenBonnie, whohad long been hisfavorite, seemedto react with fear when their father entered a room with that look on his face. It was the look that warned that if one single thing went wrong someone was going to be blamed and that someone was getting the strap.

“Go to the pew, Alys. Your mother needs help with the boys.”

“Yes, sir,” Alys meekly replied, her gaze downcast out of habit. As she passed her father, he grabbed her upper arm and squeezed so hard she gasped. She lifted her gaze to his and immediately wished she hadn’t.

“You be extra friendly with Wendel.” He squeezed her arm even harder, and she swallowed the cry of pain that tried to escape her throat. “Understand?”

“Yes, sir,” she answered immediately and clearly. “I’ll be very friendly with Wendel, sir.”

“Go on. Git!” He let go of her arm, and Alys fled the room, sparing only a quick glance at Bonnie who looked pale and anxious.

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