Page 14 of Chosen By Swift

Shocked by her aunt’s language, Alys reared back. She had never heard that word used by a woman and had only heard it once before when Jack had accidentally dropped a piece of heavy farm machinery that hurt their father. Yet, she couldn’t imagine a more appropriate use of it. Her mother truly was out of her fucking mind.

And maybe that shouldn’t have been so surprising. Not after everything her mother had suffered and survived since her own marriage. Even before that, their mother and aunt had been raised in a home where their own father was the head of the household and his word was law. Alys had always assumed that was why her mother never interjected when her children were being disciplined so harshly.

She didn’t want to think about how Mama’s wedding night had gone. Maybe it had been as horrible as what Bonnie had just experienced. Maybe it had even been worse. Maybe she truly didn’t see anything wrong with it because she believed so deeply that a wife was a man’s property who must do as he demanded when he demanded.

Mama and Aunt Jimmie continued to argue, their voices rising to such a point that the last person in the world Alys wanted to see stormed into the dressing room. At the sight of their father, Bonnie gripped Alys’ hand and squeezed. She squeezed right back, sharing her sister’s fear. He had that look on his face, and when he zeroed in on her, Alys knew she was going to get it when this was all said and done.

“Not another word!” Father bellowed, and even Aunt Jimmie went quiet. He surveyed the scene before him and finally snarled out, “Lorna, take your sister back to the hall. Now.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Aunt Jimmie refused. “If you think you can order me around—”

Father slapped her right across the face. The sharp smack of his hand was echoed in the gasps of every single person in the room. Alys held her breath, wondering what Aunt Jimmie would do. After a tense moment, Aunt Jimmie sneered, “You’ll regret that, Amos.”

“I doubt it.” He opened the door, grabbed Aunt Jimmie by the arm and threw her out of the room. He glared at Mama who rushed after her sister, desperately trying to keep her quiet. When he turned his attention back to them, Alys felt her throat constrict in a panic as he pointed at her. “When we get home, we’re going to talk about what you did.”

Alys gulped. There was no point in arguing or trying to defend herself. “Yes, sir.”

“And you,” he pointed at Bonnie, “wipe your face and fix your dress. After what I’ve paid for this shindig, you better come out to the hall with a smile on your face, ready to dance and bid your guests farewell.”

“Yes, sir,” Bonnie answered meekly.

With one final glare of warning, he stomped from the room. Alys’ shoulders slumped forward as he disappeared from view. The tension of the last few minutes had left her stomach swirling with anxiety and fear. Every single fiber of her being screamed for her to flee, to run out a back door and never go home again.

But that was a silly fantasy.

So, she did as she had been told. She found a sewing kit in one of the drawers and hastily fixed the most visible damage on Bonnie’s dress. They removed what was left of her veil and tucked it away in a paper sack along with the scraps of stained fabric she had cut away from the skirt. The artful pleats and tucks were basted into place and would hold long enough for Bonnie to get from the fellowship hall to Graham’s wagon. Hopefully, no one would notice the damage that couldn’t be hidden.

“Here.” Bonnie handed her a dampened handkerchief. “For your face.”

She had forgotten all about the blood and grimaced as the soft linen turned pink. Her top lip throbbed. “Is it bad?”

Bonnie hesitated. “It’s swollen.”

“Perfect,” she grumbled.

“Let me.” Bonnie took the handkerchief and cleaned away the blood on Alys’ chin. She then smoothed Alys’ hair back into place. There was no time to fix the tear in her skirt, but it was only noticeable if she moved too quickly. “We should go.”

Alys heard the reluctance in her sister’s voice. “We should.”

Neither made any move toward the door. For a long moment, they simply held hands and stared at each other. Eventually, Bonnie said, “This isn’t the way it was supposed to be.”

“No, it isn’t.”

“I don’t want to go home with him,” Bonnie admitted so softly Alys barely heard her.

“I don’t want you to go either.” Despite all the sisterly arguments and bickering, Alys wanted only the best for her sister. Bonnie might have been selfish and conceited and spoiled, but she wasn’t a bad person at heart. Even if she were rotten to the core, she didn’t deserve what had happened to her tonight. Alys could see the usual shine to Bonnie’s eyes had vanished. That hopeful, romantic innocence was gone. She had been introduced to the cruelest realities of their world, and she would never be the same again.

“Come visit me,” Bonnie begged. “As soon as you can.”

“I will,” Alys promised.

As if she had finally worked up the courage to face what awaited her tonight, Bonnie spun toward the door and left the room in a whirl of skirts. Alys followed after her, wanting to stay close until the last possible moment, but once they reached the hall, Bonnie was quickly taken away by the female guests who were ready to bundle her off in the wagon. They did so with a lively song, clapping and singing of marriage, love and babies. The male guests followed suit with Graham, hustling him outside with ribald advice.

Alys fell into place beside her mother and kept her gaze fixed on Bonnie. Graham’s dappled gray horses walked on with a light whistle and snap of the reins. The wagon decked out in flowers, streamers and tin cans lurched forward and rolled down the road. At the very last moment, before the wagon turned off the main road, Bonnie glanced back one final time. Alys met her sister’s scared gaze, and it took everything within her not to run out after the wagon. Instead, she raised her hand in a silent and motionless signal that Bonnie returned.

The crowd broke apart and trickled back into the fellowship hall to enjoy the last hour of music, food and drinks. Alys deliberately kept close to Adam and ignored any pointed stares from her father. Aunt Jimmie had disappeared, and Alys worried about the fallout from that slap. Aunt Jimmie had more than a dozen nephews, all of them well-connected and important men.

“Do I even want to know?” Adam asked as she helped him bundle up Darby and Davie for the ride back to the homestead.

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