Page 516 of Conveniently Wed
14
July 15, 1894
Lorinda lay in bed waiting for her infant son to awaken. She loved watching everything he did, even sleep. The way his long eyelashes fanned across his cheeks. His tiny hands were a marvel to her, every detail etched by the hand of God. His mouth worked as if he were nursing, but still he slept. His every breath felt like the beat of her heart, because he was now the love of her life. Her son needed a father, someone to teach him how to be a man. If Mike had come home, he would do that, and he would love her at the same time.
Now Franklin would be the man, but she would not be included in the love between her son and the man she would wed today. At least, she and Michael would have their own loving connection. Her stomach twisted and turned with that thought, but her future was already planned, whether she wanted it or not.
Today is my wedding day.
When Mike rescued her from her abusive father in the dark of the night and whisked her to the home of the preacher inthe next small town in Missouri, she didn’t really know what a wedding was. She knew most of the people in their small town were married, but she’d never been to, or even heard of, a wedding.
Mike told her he wanted to marry her before they spent their first night together. They caught the preacher just before he was going to bed. He quickly read words from a small black book and asked the required questions. “To have and to hold...to love and to cherish...” She didn’t know what that meant. Her mother had loved her until she died, but since then... Lorinda didn’t even want to think about the horrible things her father and uncle did to her.
Lorinda wasn’t even sure what all the preacher had said. But when he pronounced them “man and wife,” Mike had kissed her in a deeper way than ever before, and her body and lips responded to him. For the first time, she had a glimpse of love she’d never known. Later that night, he “made her a woman,” as he said. She hadn’t known what to expect, and though in the beginning she felt pain, the ending was wonderful.
Now she was finally having a normal wedding. This time, with all the correct pageantry she’d never heard about in that preacher’s small parlor with only one candle burning and his wife as witness in her nightgown and robe. But the new marriage would be a farce. Emptiness gnawed at her stomach and her heart at the bleak prospect.
The last two weeks, Ingrid, Stella Morgan, and Mary Nelson had helped gather and create clothing they called hertrousseau–even silky and lacy unmentionables–chemises, drawers, night dresses, a robe, and a corset. She had never seen anything like them, and no one would ever know she wore them, so why bother? Of course, the women didn’t know the circumstances of the relationship.
One of the books Mrs. Oleson had shared with her wasThe Scarlet Letter.She wanted to blurt out that they should embroider a scarlet letter on the unmentionables, because she would be living a lie. But she held her tongue to protect Franklin from gossip. Her feelings, and his lack of them, really couldn’t matter.
After her first wedding, Mike had kept her warm, inside and out. She knew these new clothes and the sturdy roof over her head Franklin had offered would protect her from the Colorado cold, but they wouldn’t do anything for her heart. Tears slowly trickled down her cheeks before she swiped them away.
While Franklin mucked out the stalls, his thoughts drifted to the day ahead. He had chosen to go along with the wedding hoping to make Lorinda happy, but over the last two weeks, she had become more and more distant. When he asked her what was wrong, she always answered, “Nothing.”
He should have learned from the mess with Miriam that he did not understand women at all. He couldn’t imagine any woman not being excited about all the clothes and doodads Mrs. Oleson and the other women created for her.
Lorinda was a very beautiful woman who didn’t need doodads. For all the time he’d known her, he hadn’t let himself think about that. Even though he wasn’t going to allow himself to become emotionally involved with her, his body reacted to the picture in his mind. His sweaty palms almost slid off the pitchfork.
The barn door opened.
“Hey, Boss.” Rusty stalked across the dirt floor. “What’re you doin’ out here on your wedding day?”
“Mrs. Oleson doesn’t want me to come into the house before they leave for town.”
“Why ever not?” His ranch hand took off his hat and scratched his scalp before settling it on his head once again.
“Something about it being bad luck to see the bride before the wedding or some such female nonsense.” He heaved the last pitchfork of sodden hay into the wheelbarrow.
“Won’t we be sittin’ together in church?” Rusty stuck his thumbs into his front trouser pockets. “Everyone on the ranch always does.”
Franklin hung the pitchfork on the hook by the other tools. “I believe Mrs. Su—Lorinda and Mrs. Oleson will be in one of the adjoining Sunday School rooms, listening to the service from there.”
Rusty huffed out a deep breath. “That’s some crazy idea.”
“You know women. It’s best to go along with their plans.” Franklin chuckled. “At least, I’m going to in this instance.”
“So I guess they’re taking the buggy, and we’ll ride in later?”
Apprehension twisted Franklin’s gut.Bad idea.“I really don’t like the idea of them driving to town without an escort. We haven’t caught that arsonist...or Mike Sullivan’s murderer. Maybe you and a couple of the other hands can ride with them. Pick out whoever you want to ride with you.”
“Whatever you say, Boss.”
That was twice Rusty had called him Boss without him saying anything, but he had too much on his mind to make a fuss about it. “Would you please go up to the house and ask Mrs. Oleson if I could come to the back door and talk to her?”
“Sure.” Rusty headed out and returned before Franklin had a chance to start a new chore. “She says it’s safe if you’ll come right now.”
Franklin headed to the mudroom and quickly used the iron boot scraper to remove the gunk from the bottom of his boots.He stepped into the kitchen and found Mrs. Oleson slicing bread while she hummed a happy tune.
