Page 289 of Conveniently Wed
“You’ll be fine, dearie,” Mrs. Jordan said, her kind brown eyes twinkling. “Nothing to worry about at all.”
“Thank you, ma’am.” Aundy patted the hand resting on her arm and offered the woman a small smile. With mile upon mile of nothing to do but stare out the window and watch the incredible changing scenery, Aundy and Mrs. Jordan discussed their individual reasons for being on the train. The elderly woman traveled to Portland to live with her only daughter.
“You’re a smart, brave girl,” Mrs. Jordan said, sitting straighter in her seat. “I have no doubt that everything will work out for the best. If it doesn’t, you know how to get in touch with me.”
“I’m sure all will be well.” Aundy was grateful she had a slip of paper in her possession with Mrs. Jordan’s new address. If she ever needed somewhere to go, at least she had one friend on this side of the Rocky Mountains.
Aundy adjusted her hat, brushed at her skirt and the sleeves of her jacket, and moistened her lips. Although Erik said looks didn’t matter to him, she certainly hoped he wouldn’t be terribly disappointed when he met her. Perhaps she shouldn’t have refused when he’d asked for her photograph.
Afraid he would break off their commitment once he realized she was no beauty, she figured he would take her as she was or she’d be in an even bigger mess than the one she left behind in Chicago.
She gathered her belongings along with her courage, and glanced out the window. The snow had disappeared, leaving random patches covering the ground as the train made its way out of the mountains. The sky was so blue and wide open, she wondered if she could see up to heaven.
Would her father and mother look down and give their approval to what she was about to do? She prayed if Gunthercould see her, that he wasn’t disappointed with her for marrying someone she would never love.
Aundy trapped a sigh behind her lips, brushed at her skirt one last time, and sat back to wait as the train rumbled to a stop, willing her pounding heart to slow as well.
The porter finally announced their arrival and stood outside the car, helping the women disembark.
After giving Mrs. Jordan a quick hug, Aundy slipped on her coat, grabbed the Gladstone bag that had been her mother’s, and stepped outside into the bright sunshine and brisk February air.
“Best wishes, Miss Thorsen,” the porter said as he helped her down the steps.
“Thank you, sir.” Aundy tipped her head at him before turning her attention to the platform where a sea of people churned back and forth. How was she ever going to find Erik?
Cowboys and farmers, businessmen and miners, Indians covered with colorful blankets, Chinese men wearing long braids and strange hats, and women dressed in everything from plain calico to ornately festooned dresses milled together, all blending into a mass of varied colors.
Aundy filled her lungs with the clean air and wished, again, she had exchanged photographs with Erik when he’d asked. His description said he was tall, blond, and plain. She’d written him a similar portrayal of her own appearance.
She looked around and counted four men who were several inches taller than the majority of the crowd. One had dark hair that fell down to his shoulders, one was an extremely handsome cowboy, one wore a nice suit, and the last one appeared to be a farmer in mud-splattered overalls who was not only dirty, but had a mean look about him. She certainly hoped he wasn’t her intended.
When the man in the suit removed his hat, clutching it tightly in his big hands, his white-blond hair glistened in the mid-daysun. Flecks of mud on his boots and the hem of his pants didn’t detract from his crisp shirt, attractive vest, or well-made tie.
Discreetly studying him a moment, Aundy hoped he was the man she was about to wed. Despite his obvious nerves, he had a kind face, even if it was older than she’d anticipated. Erik had never stated his age, nor had he asked hers.
While she was considered a spinster at twenty-one, she guessed Erik’s age closer to forty from the lines time and life had etched on his face.
Although not handsome, he had a gentleness about him that held Aundy’s interest. If this was, in fact, her betrothed maybe she hadn’t lost her mind after all.
Determined to make the best of her situation, she squared her shoulders and straightened her spine. She marched up to the man as he continued to search the faces around him.
“Mr. Erikson?” Aundy asked, stepping beside him. The surprised look on the man’s face when he turned his attention in her direction made her smile. “Erik Erikson?”
“Yes, I’m Erik Erikson.” He studied Aundy with undisguised curiosity. “May I assist you?”
“I certainly hope so.” Her jaunty grin made him smile in return. “You did say you needed a bride and asked me to marry you.”
“Oh! Miss Thorsen? Is it really you?” Erik cradled Aundy’s gloved fingers between his two work-roughened hands.
“It is, indeed.”
“I had no idea… I didn’t think…” Erik appeared to work to chase his thoughts back together. “You said you weren’t comely. When I saw you get off the train, I thought you were much too lovely to be my bride. It’s a disservice, Miss Thorsen, saying you are plain. You look like one of the Viking queens in the stories my mother used to read me at bedtime—tall, strong, and beautiful.”
His comments made her blush. No one had ever called her lovely or compared her to a Viking queen, although her father used to tell her she had the tenacity of her ancestors running through her veins.
Erik took her bag and escorted her off the platform over to a wagon hitched to a hulking team of horses.
“Meet Hans and Henry,” Erik said, setting her bag in the wagon then giving her a hand as she climbed up to the seat. “I would have brought the buggy, but I assumed you’d have luggage. If you wait here a moment, I’ll get your trunks.”
