Chapter 14

14

July 15, 1894

L orinda 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 in the 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 her trousseau –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 was The 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.

She turned toward him. "What can I do for you?"

"I've been thinking about something." He took off his Stetson and hung it on the back of one of the kitchen chairs. "Would it be bad to give Lorinda something that I had planned to give Miriam?"

She stared at him a moment. "What?"

"Well, I have my mother's pearl necklace and eardrops. My dad gave them to her on their wedding day."

A grin spread across her face. "That would be wonderful. Since you never really gave them to Miriam, and you wanted your wife to have them, it would be most appropriate."

"They're in my bedroom. Will it be all right for me to go get them? You can give them to her to wear in the wedding." He had never felt so awkward in his whole adult life. Like a little boy that didn't know what was expected of him… Maybe because he didn't.

"Go right ahead. Lorinda won't be coming out of her room for quite a while."

He headed down the hallway wondering how she could know that. Before he reached his room, he heard soft splashing and humming, and an enticing flowery fragrance teased his nostrils. Lorinda is taking a bath! His stomach quivered, and he took a deep breath, trying to settle his nerves. Try as he might, he couldn't keep pictures that hinted at what she might look like in the copper bathtub from flitting across his thoughts. This was not supposed to happen. All he wanted was an heir, not a woman invading his mind. After grabbing the velvet box that held the pearls, he hurried to the kitchen as if the hounds of hell were nipping at his heels.

"Here they are." With a thunk, he dropped the case on the table without looking at Mrs. Oleson.

Just before he went through the door, he turned back. "I'm leaving a couple of the hands to ride along with the buggy into town."

He was out the door and halfway across the back yard before he slowed down. He needed to stay in the barn and pray until the women left. Maybe then he could control his base instincts. Why hadn't he even considered this kind of repercussion? He could not let his thoughts of Lorinda get out of hand. He would never, ever give his heart to another woman.

Dressed in a dark blue summer frock with tiny white flowers scattered across it, Lorinda sat beside Mrs. Oleson in the buggy. Rusty was in the driver's seat, and he kept his face forward, giving them privacy. He had tied his horse to the back of the buggy and two of the other ranch hands rode on either side of his steed. For some reason, this added to Lorinda's feeling of being protected since she'd been taken into Franklin's home. If only she could convince her stomach everything was all right. She had barely forced down a few bites of scrambled eggs and biscuits before they left the ranch house.

A whole flock of flying barn swallows were building themselves a home in her innards, creating a feeling she'd never experienced before. Although the sun shone with a cheery brightness, and a soft breeze caressed her face, all she could do was think about what was to come. Could she really go through with the ceremony? Of course, she knew she wouldn't embarrass Franklin by backing out. Her doom was sealed, and it would be wrapped up in fancy, colorful clothing that should make any woman happy. But she felt as out of place in the sham marriage as she did in the fancy unmentionables.

Rusty stopped the buggy outside the parsonage, then helped both her and Mrs. Oleson down to the boardwalk that led from the front door to the church on the next lot.

Glad they had made it to town without encountering any kind of trouble, Mrs. Oleson smiled up at the tall, red-headed cowboy. "Thank you so much, Rusty." She even reached up and patted his cheek, which took on a hue similar to his hair.

Lorinda knew she should thank him, too, her relief at making it safely to church was dammed behind anxiety about what would happen after she left the church as Franklin's wife. She nodded and gave him a tight smile. He doffed his hat toward them then headed to the livery with the buggy. The other cowboys ambled up the street. She wondered where they were going, but since it was early for the service, she figured they had some way to kill the time.

Mary Nelson welcomed them into her parlor. "Brian is already at the church. He spends a couple of hours on Sunday mornings going over his sermon notes one more time. So we have the house to ourselves."

Stella sat in a rocking chair with Michael asleep on her shoulder. "He's been a dear since we picked him up at the Rocking V this morning. We're getting along just fine."

Her youngest child had pulled up on the table beside her chair and was trying to reach the books stacked near the back.

Lorinda walked over to peek at her son, then looked down at Stella's daughter. "I haven't seen her stand by herself. When did she start that?"

"Just last night. Now she'll be getting into everything." She didn't sound the least bit upset about that. Of course, she had several older children.

"Are you sure you want to take care of Michael today? You'll have your hands full with the two of them."

A tender smile lit Stella's face. "I love babies, and I can take care of more than one of them. If Michael awakens and is hungry, I can nurse him, so your day will be just for you and Franklin."

Words wanted to burst through, but Lorinda worked hard to keep them inside. This wedding was just a formality, something to protect her and her son's future. That thought made her feel like a fraud. Her heart ached. Had she made a deal with the devil for her own gain, and would she lose her soul in the long run?

While Mrs. Oleson helped Lorinda into her wedding suit and all the underthings, complete with a corset, which she'd never worn before, Mrs. Nelson packed all her other new clothing into a small traveling trunk. Although Lorinda thanked the women, she didn't know when she'd ever need a traveling trunk. Her future would be spent on the Rocking V ranch.

Before she gave Lorinda the jacket or hat, Mrs. Oleson took Michael from Stella's arms without waking him. "Stella's going to dress your hair so the hat will fit just right."

Using a curling iron, heated on the kitchen stove, Stella curled and arranged Lorinda's hair, then took her to the cheval glass in the bedroom.

Lorinda wouldn't have recognized the woman staring back at her if she hadn't known what had gone on before. She had always felt plain, even ugly sometimes. But this woman was pretty...like a picture in Harper's Bazar magazine.

"Do you like this style?" Stella stood beside her and cocked her head to the side as she studied Lorinda in the looking glass.

"I'm almost speechless. I never dreamed I could look like those women in the magazines."

A white silk blouse with a short lace ruffle around the sweetheart neckline was just the thing to set off her new hairstyle, pinned up in a mass of curls on the back of her head, with one long, fat curl hanging on the right side of her face and across the front of her shoulder. The hair gleamed as if it were the gold Mike had dug from their mine. She could imagine him coming up behind her and twirling her hair around his finger as he promised her enough gold to fill her every desire. Why am I thinking about Mike on my wedding day to Franklin? I need to tuck those memories away, burying them so deep they can't resurface.

"Oh, you're so lovely." Mrs. Oleson came up behind the two women. She held a blue velvet case in her hand. "In all the excitement, I almost forgot Franklin wanted me to give this to you to wear for the wedding." She thrust the blue velvet case toward Lorinda.

When she opened it, she gasped. A pearl necklace and eardrops, nestled on a bed of blue satin. Her gaze flew toward her dear friend. "He bought these for me?"

"Oh my, no. These are the pearls his father gave his mother at their wedding."

"I can't...take these." Lorinda raised one hand to hover over the exposed skin above the neckline of her blouse.

"Of course, you can. He's been saving these for his wife."

The wide smile that beamed from Mrs. Oleson shot straight to Lorinda's heart. His wife. That's what she'd be after the ceremony today. At least legally.

Her dear friend stepped behind her and clasped the necklace. The perfectly matched pearls encircled her neck and nestled right below her throat. The sunlight filtering through the lace curtains gave each bead a luster that warmed her heart.

"Let me help you with the eardrops." Mrs. Oleson reached for Lorinda's lobes. "Your ears aren't pierced, are they?"

"No, ma'am. I've never had any jewelry before." She glanced down at the empty third finger of her left hand. "Except the wedding band Mike gave me." Now I'm talking about my dead husband. What must these women think of me?

"I remember taking off the gold band my dear departed husband gave me and tucking it in my jewelry box. It signaled the time I needed to move on." Mrs. Oleson gave her shoulder a comforting pat.

Stella picked up the hat from the round hatbox on the chest of drawers. "Let's get this settled on her. The veil that covers her face will probably cover her ears."

The small blue hat perfectly matched the watered silk of her suit, and the veil made of an open netting was as white as the silk blouse. It had been attached at the front of the narrow brim of the hat and caught up under a cluster of lace at the back of the brim.

"Wait." Mrs. Oleson lifted the jacket from the bed. "Let me put this on her first, then the hat."

Feeling almost like a doll that two little girls were dressing, Lorinda held her arms toward her back, then turned one way and the other as the women told her to. A dim memory, from before her mother died, flashed across her mind She'd had a blond china doll with a blue velvet skirt and jacket, and her mother helped her put them back on the doll after Lorinda had removed them. She never knew where that doll went. It disappeared soon after her mother was buried. She hadn't remembered that for a long time. Her heart squeezed, wishing her mother could see her on her wedding day. For a moment, she even wished that her father had died and her mother lived. Her life would have been so different.

When she once again stood in front of the full-length cheval glass, she felt like a different person…and for the first time in her life, she felt like a beautiful china doll. But whose doll would she be? The veil that fit snug under her chin did cover her ears.

Mrs. Oleson clasped her hands across her bosom and sighed. "I can hardly wait until the first time Franklin sees you like this."

It would make no difference. She was just the woman who had what he wanted. That's the only reason he was marrying her.

Why does that thought hurt so much?