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Husband By Arrangement
Husband By Arrangement
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Husband By Arrangement

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Lord, this didn’t surprise You, but it has thrown me like a wild horse. Help me land without getting hurt. Or hurting anyone else.

The fire crackled and settled. He added several logs to it and headed for bed. He had a feeling that tomorrow wouldn’t be the only long day in his future. He’d take them one at a time. Riding into Gran Colina with a new bride in the morning would be a challenge. Their sudden wedding would surely keep the town gossips busy for weeks to come. He hoped he and Rena could portray a convincing couple without making either of them uncomfortable.

Chapter Three (#u0789b8b7-a1fc-5ec8-af7e-31e46775ef59)

The smell of frying bacon woke Rena the next morning. Her stomach wrenched.

Please help me, Lord. How long is this going to go on? I don’t have time to be sick all day, every day. I know I don’t have a right to ask You for anything, but I’d sure appreciate a dose of mercy.

She slid her feet into her slippers and tied on her robe. She opened the door enough to see Scott at the stove with his back to her. She tiptoed across the floor of the main room and out the front door. The chilly air and damp ground were the only evidence of the rain she’d heard in the middle of the night. The sky was bright and clear.

A few minutes later, with one hand across her middle and the other holding her robe tight at the neck, she returned and hoped to make her way back to her room unnoticed.

“Oh, there you are.” Scott was walking away from the door to her room. He pointed at the table but stumbled backward a couple of steps as he took in her appearance. “I, uh, breakfast is ready.”

Rena made an effort to pull her robe tighter. She wasn’t accustomed to being in a man’s presence in such a state. There hadn’t been time to brush her hair or make herself presentable before she’d taken ill. Shame covered her again. Scott continued his backward motion until he was on the opposite side of the room from her.

“Thank you. I’ll be out in a few minutes.” She dashed into her room and closed the door. Leaning against the cold wood, she vowed to avoid another instance of being caught in her nightclothes. Even if it meant she had to sleep in one of her dresses.

When she went back into the main room, Scott was taking his plate to the basin. “I thought we’d get an early start.” He didn’t look at her.

“That’s fine. Is there anything you need me to do before we go? Gather the eggs? Feed the chickens?”

“Nope. It’s all done.” He was at the door, donning his hat. “Have your breakfast while I hitch up the wagon.”

“I’ll be quick.” She watched him button his jacket. “But you’re going to have to let me help. Tomorrow morning I’ll follow you around and learn the chores.”

He lifted the door latch. “We’ll deal with tomorrow when it gets here.” He was out the door before she could respond.

The first part of the ride to town was silent. It wouldn’t do to arrive and face all the people they knew without having said a dozen words to each other.

“If you want to drop me off at my father’s house, I can pack this morning while you work.” She held her best reticule in her lap. The navy velvet fabric and black-trimmed bag felt fancy compared to her mood. She’d worn her Sunday best for the wedding. The reticule had completed her outfit, and she hadn’t thought to pack another one in her valise.

“Do you have a trunk?” Scott kept his eyes on the road.

“My mother’s. It should hold everything. I don’t have much. My clothes and sewing.” She bit her bottom lip. She wouldn’t tell him about the items she’d hidden in the bottom of the trunk for years. Things she thought a bride would need when she married. A fancy frame for a wedding photograph. A lace runner for the dresser she’d hoped to have in the room she’d share with the husband she’d dreamed of as a girl.

Eugene had turned that dream into a nightmare. The fancy things she’d collected had lost the joy she’d known when she’d bought them.

She would still bring them, but there was nothing in that trunk to turn this marriage into a happy event. No trinket or keepsake could polish the tarnish off her circumstances. Today she was married, but her problems were far from over.

Scott’s reply dragged her back to the moment at hand. “Good. I’ll leave you to it then. When you finish, come to my office. We’ll have lunch at the hotel before we go to the mercantile and purchase the things you’ll need for the house. Or, if you’d rather, you can give me a list. I’ll drop it off, and Mrs. Busby can gather everything up for you.”

“That’s probably for the best. It would save us time.” She twisted her gloved hands together. “We don’t have to go to lunch. I can make something at Papa’s or after we get home.”

He glanced at her. “What kind of husband would the folks of Gran Colina think me if I didn’t treat you to a nice meal after our wedding? We didn’t have time yesterday, but today they’ll be expecting me to treat you.”

“So you are thinking about how people are going to react to us.”

“I am. And so should you be. You’re going to have to talk to Charlotte. She’s not the kind to let you up and get married without giving her all the details.”

Rena gasped. “Oh no. I hadn’t thought of that. Giddiness and giggles will be on her mind.” She shook her head. “I won’t be able to do that.”

“I suggest you tell her that a married lady doesn’t discuss the things of marriage with anyone other than her husband. She’s mature enough to accept that.”

“She’s going to have questions. Lots of questions about when we started courting and why we didn’t tell anyone.”

“Hmm. It seems you’re going to have to be the most convincing. Men aren’t likely to ask me that sort of thing.” He squinted against the morning sun. “Tell her I’m not the kind to talk about such things. That I’m real private about matters of the heart.” He frowned.

Rena imagined there was more truth to his suggestion than he’d be willing to admit. After Louise’s marriage to Thomas Freeman, he hadn’t courted anyone that she knew of. Surely Louise’s betrayal had wounded him. “Thank you. That’s just the type of answer to keep her from pressing me.”

Scott slowed the wagon to cross the railroad tracks and headed through the center of town. The stationmaster lifted a hand as they drove by. “Morning, Sheriff. Mrs. Braden. Must say I’m a bit surprised to see the two of you back in town so soon after your wedding.”

Rena sensed Scott stiffen on the seat beside her. He nodded and answered, “Good morning.”

“Oh my. I think we’re going to be the object of more attention than I realized.” She straightened her back and held on to the rail on the side of the seat.

“Yes. Not much more interesting has happened in town in recent weeks.”

In the center of town, he steered the wagon to the right. One more left turn would find them at her father’s house. The home where she’d grown up with her father and mother.

How she wished her mother had been here to advise her. Her death had left Rena and Papa with memories of a wonderful woman and no one to guide Rena through her years of becoming a young lady. If her mother had lived, she felt certain she wouldn’t be in this situation. Momma would have known she was sneaking around with Eugene. Just like she’d known when Rena had broken the sugar bowl that had been in their family for two generations.

Momma had known so many things without being told. Could Rena ever hope to be that kind of mother? Doubt filled her again.

Scott stopped in front of the yellow clapboard house. He bounded to the ground and came to help her down. It was so uncomfortable. Living in town had meant she could walk almost everywhere she went. Climbing in and out of a wagon with a man’s assistance was something she’d have to get used to. Knowing the man was her husband caused a peculiar feeling in the pit of her stomach.

“Do you want to come inside and speak to Papa?” She turned to walk through the front gate of the low picket fence that separated the small yard from the dirt street.

“I’ll come in long enough for you to make your list.”

They entered the house and found her father in his study. The large desk he sat behind was one of Rena’s favorite pieces of furniture. She loved how Papa looked behind it. As a girl, she’d always thought him the most important man in town.

Knowing what he’d done yesterday to protect her reputation and the town’s future proved she was right.

“Good morning, Scott.” Papa rose to shake hands with Scott. He turned to Rena. “Hello, Rena.” The way he lowered his tone when he greeted her told of his ongoing sadness.

The sting of her heart was fresh. Never had he been cool or reserved with her. How she hated the pain she’d brought to him. The fracture of their relationship was her fault. And she found it unbearable. He’d been so pleased when she’d started attending services with him again. How she hated the disappointment he must feel at realizing how desperate her need for God was.

“I’ve come to get my things.”

Papa nodded but didn’t speak.

Scott had his hat in his hand. “Oscar, I’d like to speak to you about a matter of town business if you have a few minutes.”

“Certainly.” Papa returned to his chair.

Rena looked at the two of them. Scott lowered his tall frame into a wooden chair opposite her father. They settled in for a conversation as they had done many times over the last couple of years. The likelihood of her being the topic of today’s business was undeniable. “I’m going into the kitchen to make that list, Scott.”

“Fine. I’ll be here when you’ve finished.” He didn’t even turn to look at her. As she closed the door, he said, “I think there are some things we can do that will help—” The heavy door kept her from hearing anything else he said.

At the table in the kitchen, she made a list of all she could imagine she’d need for a week of cooking and cleaning. It took longer than she imagined. She racked her brain for things she remembered Scott commenting on that she’d cooked in the past. Those items went on the top of the list.

She was almost done when she heard the door to the study open.

“Thank you for taking care of that for me, Scott.” Her father’s voice carried down the long hallway and into the kitchen.

“You’re welcome, sir. We’re in this together. That’s the only way for it to succeed.”

Her father closed the study door. As she listened to Scott’s boots on the wooden floor, she wished she hadn’t caused them both so much work and worry.

Scott came into the kitchen. “Do you have the list?”

She stood and handed him the paper. “If it’s too much, let me know. I can pare it down.”

He read the list. A few lines down the page he smiled and gave an approving sound and a nod. “This is fine.” He tucked the paper into the pocket of his pants. “Is there anything you need from me before I leave? Do I need to get the trunk out of the attic?”

“No. It’s in my room.”

“Okay. I’ll be working then. You come when you’re done.”

“It won’t take too long. I may try to see Charlotte if I finish before it’s time to eat.”

Scott nodded and left her to her work.

She pulled her apron from its hook by the back door and draped it over one arm. In the hall, she ran her hand along the edge of the frame on the table near the bottom of the stairs. It was her favorite photograph of her mother.

Everything was spinning around in her head. She was leaving this house today. Her best friend would be strained by a refusal to discuss her sudden marriage. That action could cause her to lose Charlotte’s trust. Was there no end to the consequences of one choice made months ago without thought for the future?

In the room she’d lived in all of her life, Rena opened her mother’s trunk and put the apron inside. She opened the bureau drawers and took out the things that would make her new house a home. Tears trickled down her cheeks, and she dashed them away.

This was the only choice she’d had. Her baby required a home and father. Papa and Scott had made that happen. Rena wouldn’t mourn that choice. There had been no other course of action.

Next she tucked the dresses that hung in her wardrobe into the trunk with care. She pressed the pillow from her bed on top of the dresses and lowered the lid of the chest. Her shoes were put in a crate that she lined with a length of fabric. She pulled the quilt from her bed and folded it.

Standing in the center of the room, she wondered if Papa would mind if she took the washstand. It had been her mother’s. The blue flowers painted on the white basin and pitcher were as delicate as she remembered her mother to be.

A knock sounded on the bedroom door. She opened it to find her father.

“May I come in?”

“Of course.” She stepped aside. “I was just finishing up here.”

Papa looked around the room. “I’m not sure what I’ll do with myself now that you’re grown and married. I’ll miss our talks after supper. And reading the Bible together at night.” He turned to her. “It’s done my heart good to read with you these last few weeks. Your momma would want you to have this.” He put her mother’s Bible in her hand. “Promise me you’ll keep reading it.”

“I will, Papa.” Her breath caught. He might be upset with her, but his love was still there.

“And come see me. Come here or to my office when you’re in town.” His voice cracked a bit on the last words.

Rena flung herself into his arms. “Oh, Papa! I’m so sorry I’ve made a mess of things. Please forgive me.” She sobbed against his chest.

“Hush, child. You’re forgiven.” He patted her back. “I know you’ve chosen a difficult path for your life, but God loves you. And so do I.” He made soft sounds of comfort in her ear. “Perhaps in time, Scott will grow to love you, too. You must give him time.”

“I don’t see how he could ever want me for his wife. No man could.” She sniffed and pulled a handkerchief from the pocket of her skirt as she backed away from him. “I don’t think I’ll ever be able to trust again. I feel so betrayed.”

Her father tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “He already took you as his wife, Rena. Be fair to him. He’s done a great thing for our family. And he’s a good man.”

“I’ll treat him with respect.”

“That’s a good place to start.” He pulled his watch from his vest pocket. “I have a meeting in a few minutes. Is Scott coming back here now?”

“We’re going to lunch before we come for my things.”

“How nice for you.” He gave a final perusal of the room.

“Papa, may I take the washstand with me?”

He turned to the corner of the room. “That was a gift from me to your mother on our first anniversary.” He smiled. “I remember how pleased she was to be surprised.” He nodded at her. “I think she would want you to have it.”

“Thank you, Papa.” She gave him another hug. “Not just for the gift, but for everything. You are a wise man. I am grateful for your help. Pray that I’ll be able to live up to the demands of running a homestead and being a mother.”

“I will.” He left her standing there in the room that no longer felt like home.

Her things were ready to be taken away. The childhood she’d lived here was over, and a new life waited for her in the sheriff’s office on the other side of town. It was time to go.

* * *

Scott couldn’t concentrate. The words on the papers on his desk swam in front of him like ants crawling on a pie at a picnic.

Married. He was married.

And not for any reason he’d have chosen.

He shook his head and straightened the papers on his desk into small stacks. On top was a list he’d made during the course of the morning. Every time he thought of something he needed for the homestead or Rena, he jotted it on the small piece of paper.

A ring. Rena didn’t have a wedding ring. He could get her one soon. They hadn’t discussed it. Perhaps it was something she didn’t think she should ask about, but he knew giving her one was the right thing to do.

The tip of the pencil broke, and he pulled out his knife to sharpen it.

The door opened, and Cyrus Busby from the mercantile came in. “I got that order ready for you.”

Scott pushed the knife blade across the pencil again and nicked his thumb. “Ouch!” He dropped the knife and put the pad of his thumb to his lips. With the other hand he added the ring to his list.

“Thanks, Cyrus. I appreciate that. We’ll be by your place this afternoon to pick it up.” He folded the list and put it in his pocket.

The door opened again, and Rena entered the office. “I’ve finished—” She stopped short when she saw Cyrus. “Oh, hello, Mr. Busby.”

Cyrus nodded. “Mrs. Braden.”