An Unexpected Mother (The Colorado Brides Series Book 4) (3 page)

She smiled sympathetically. “I know what you’re referring to. I wish I could offer you some advice. Are you certain it’s him?”

“I asked him questions only the man in the letters would know. It’s him, although I think he might’ve had someone else write them.”

“Perhaps…in time…you might find common ground.”

I sat up abruptly, my stomach clenching. “I can’t go through with it! I…feel nothing for him. Nothing at all.” I grabbed her shoulders. “Oh, please, mother. There has to be a way out of this. Oh, goodness! This is the worst day of my life. The absolute worst!”

“You’ve made a promise, Fanny. You accepted his hand in marriage—”

“I’ve erred greatly. I’ve made a
huge
mistake. I can’t possibly marry this person. I find him…revolting!”

“I’ll speak to your father about it, but I do believe your bed’s been made. I’m dreadfully sorry.”

“People break engagements all the time. I could just walk away and find another husband in Denver City. My sisters were successful there. I can be too.”

“I don’t know what to say, Fanny. It pains me to see you so distressed.”

“It pains me to have to look…at him. I can’t marry such a man. He’s simple-minded and…and…disgusting.”

“He’s not that bad, my dear. He just needs a bath and a shave. I’m sure he’ll make the effort for the wedding tomorrow.”

The mention of the nuptials set my mouth into a grim line. “I won’t go through with it.”

“Fanny.” There was a hint of warning in her voice. “He knows nothing about your true character either. I’ve been with you these eighteen years, my dear. I know how stubborn you can be. It’s time you grew up and accepted adult responsibilities, just like your sisters. They’ve all settled for men beneath them, and they’re quite happy about it. If it’s good enough for them, it’s good enough for you.”

My ire had been thoroughly stirred. “He’s just as lowborn as those miners, who whistle and call women ‘my purdy darlin’’.” I glared at her, hating her in that moment. She knew all about my stubbornness, but I possessed a wicked temper to boot. “I can’t believe you won’t side with me on this issue. You’re supposed to want the best for me, not…this…this…disgusting person.”

“Don’t put this off on me.” Now I had angered her. “You were the one who wanted to marry him. You wanted to come to Denver City. I’ve given up my house, my life, and my closest, dearest friends to escort you to this desolate frontier. I have more than supported you, young lady.”

Tears were in my eyes. “My life is ruined.”

“It’s just not how you thought it would be. God has other plans, my love. You have to trust in Him. He’s looking out for you. He’s watching over all of us.”

“He wasn’t this time.” I crossed my arms over my chest, feeling a dangerous swell of emotion that would result in an ugly, heaving, crying fit. “Can I have a moment, please? I need…to be by myself.”

“I’m sorry you’re disappointed. I hate to see you so unhappy, but…what’s done is done. I’ll speak to your father, but I doubt it would do any good.”

“This was a horrible mistake. We never should’ve come here.” I flung myself into a pillow, as tears escaped. I couldn’t face any of it at the moment. I just wanted to lie here and die.

Chapter Three

I had managed to pull myself together by supper, phlegmatically accepting my fate. I had made a promise; I had given a stranger my hand in marriage, which had been foolhardy, but I was now expected to follow through with the arrangement. I’d rather fling myself into the Laramie River and drown in the swiftly flowing current, but I did not have that luxury. And death surely would have been preferable.

With a strength I did not know I possessed, I sat next to my husband-to-be and watched as he grasped at chunks of ham, coating the meat in tomato Catsup and tossing it into his mouth. I picked at a red bean pie, eyeing my parents critically, wishing that they weren’t so irritatingly content. My suffering did not seem to bother them in the least.

“When I’m done with this here food, I’d sure like a taste of that pie,” said Jason. “It’s looks mighty good, Miss Fanny.”

“It’s fine. You can have it. I’m not all that hungry.”

“You sure? I don't want to take your food if—”

“Please, have it.” I thrust the plate in his direction, praying that he would be quiet now.

“Thank you.”

The conversation was stilted; my parent’s were frequently the only ones speaking. I had nothing to say, other than commenting on the weather, the travel conditions, and whatever ailments had bothered me. By the time I excused myself for bed, I had developed a crushing headache, the pressure pounding behind my eyes. I longed for the blissful unconsciousness of sleep. Perhaps, when I woke in the morning, all of this would have been a bad dream.

But…it wasn’t. Little relief arrived with the dawn, and I roused myself early, wanting to take a walk in solitude and pray for some sort of escape from the cruel fate that awaited me. I would be married by noon, with the possibility of a wedding night looming. There was a path that ran along the river, but I wasn’t the only one who had come this way, as there were a few men fishing. The coolness of the morning was a welcome respite, but, as soon as the sun appeared, things would grow uncomfortably heated.

I found a spot near the riverbank, sitting on a rock, where I stared at the water. The urge to join the fish and swim away was strong. I longed to escape, but there wasn’t any conceivable way out.

“God,” I whispered. “How can you make me marry someone I have no feelings for? I beg you to reconsider. Please don’t make me do this. Please.” I added, “He’s disgusting. He…is hardly suitable for any young woman. Please, I beg you. I’ll do anything you want, just don’t make me marry him.” I lowered my head, as the tears came. I’d never felt so forlorn before, so powerless. Whatever hopes and dreams I had for my future seemed to have disappeared. How I could possibly enjoy my life from this day forward was a mystery.

When I returned to camp, I was surprised to find everyone awake, and the fire lit. My parents drank coffee, while staring into the flames. I approached. “Where’s Jason?”

“He’s gone to the river, I presume,” said father. “Where have you been?”

“The river.”

“My dear, you look peaked. Are you not feeling well?”

“I am as well as can be expected for someone who is about to face her execution.”

“Oh, Fanny.” Mother seemed to brace herself.

“I want you to know that I’m marrying this person against my will. There isn’t a cell in my body that isn’t thoroughly repulsed by the prospect. The thought that I…might have to…perform…wifely duties with that man makes me want to vomit. I shall never forgive you for making me marry him. Ever. From this day forward, my life is completely ruined. I’m utterly shattered. I shall
never
recover. I plan to take to my bed, and I never want to see either of you ever again, for as long as I live.”

Mother’s mouth fell open. “Well, she’s in a fine mood.”

“That she is,” chuckled father.

I wanted to pick up rocks and throw them; my anger was so acute. I’d never been in such a fury. The intensity of the emotion was slightly worrying. I knew my behavior was ill-mannered and the words I had spoken were hurtful, but I wasn’t able to control any of it. Things did not improve as the day wore on, and I was forced to dress for the ceremony, wearing a cream-colored gown I had bought for this purpose. When I had purchased the pretty garment, I’d been in a far better state of mind, thinking that the man I would marry was someone handsome, well-mannered, and charming. Jason Hatch was none of these things and never would be.

As we stood before the preacher who presided over the nuptials, my parents were nearby, along with several families we had befriended, wanting to lend their support. None of them knew of my inner turmoil. I schooled my features, swallowed my pride, which felt like a lump in my throat, and within a few, horrible moments, became Mrs. Jason Hatch. I’d never felt worse in my life! Congratulations resonated around us, my parents beamed with happiness, and someone hugged me. I cursed them all, wanting to hide in the wagon and escape, but this was impossible.

The afternoon was celebratory. There was music from a banjo, the happy tune filling the air, while fires had been lit to prepare for a feast of epic proportions. My husband had been given a metal cup, which held whiskey, and it was frequently refilled. I had changed my dress, fearing that the dust would discolor the fabric. I wore a functional calico ensemble with a high neckline. The heat of the sun had dampened the cloth under my arms, and the corset pinched around the ribcage, but I suffered in silence, staring at the simple gold band around my finger, wishing I could toss it into the prairie.

“Now, you mustn’t be so sore, Fanny,” chided mother. “It’s unbecoming, darling. You look like a sour schoolmarm.”

“My life is over.”

She sighed. “Oh, my goodness. Such dramatics.”

“You never had to marry someone you loathed. You would’ve never tolerated such a thing, but I have to. You don’t care one wit that my happiness is ruined.”

“He’s made an effort. He took most of the beard off.”

“It doesn’t matter.” I sat on a wooden chair, staring at the fire. “None of it matters. This was supposed to be the happiest day of my life. I’ve never felt so low.”

“Give it some time, Fanny. Things will look better in the morning. Mark my words. This isn’t the worst thing you’ll ever experience. Life is full of little horrors. They’re just spread out over time.”

I glared at her. “Thank you, mother. I feel so much better now.”

“I think I’m going to need a glass of wine. A big one.”

Once the sun had gone down, the party continued, as people laughed and shouted; the miners were well into their cups, having purchased considerable amounts of alcohol. I found myself faced with the very real possibility of having to consummate this farce. My husband had assembled a tent, which he fully expected to share with me. It didn't seem to matter to him that we had only met yesterday and that we had hardly spoken two words to each other since daybreak. He was determined to claim his husbandly rights, and I tried valiantly not to vomit at his gloating and eager expression.

I could not rely on my parents to rescue me from this impossible situation. I lacked the courage to throw myself into the river, and I had run out of options, seeing that I was now his lawfully wedded wife. While he waited for me to undress, glossy, slightly bleary eyes staring at my person, I tamped down revulsion, hating him with an all-consuming passion. The violence of these feelings left me trembling, my fingers struggling with the hooks and eyes of the dress. When I had finally freed myself of the corset, his eyes seemed to bulge, the watery surrounds glistening.

It was then that I began to wonder if there was something wrong with him. A strange tick moved the skin beneath his left cheek, while his mouth had formed an O. “Sir?” I had yet to remove the shift, praying that perhaps he would let me keep it on. There was a lamp, but it was dim. “Sir?”

“You sure do look…purdy.”

It was unimaginable that I would lose my virginity to this person, but…it seemed inevitable. “Thank you.”

He got onto his knees, reaching for his belt, which encircled his waist. His movements were clumsy, slow, and unfocused. Perhaps he had imbibed far too much whiskey. A work-roughened hand pulled the leather free, dropping the belt onto the blanket, but then he swayed, leaning backward and then forward.

“Are you well, sir?”

His expression appeared void, yet puzzled, as if he wasn’t aware of what was happening, although he wanted to focus on me, his eyes staring in my direction. He grimaced then, sucking in a sharp breath, while clutching his chest. I realized then that something was indeed amiss.

“Oh, my goodness gracious!” He groaned, grimacing, falling forward onto the blanket, where he landed with a thud. I had barely cleared a space for him. “What’s the matter with you?” I grasped the dress, tossing the garment over my head, while eyeing my husband, who had yet to move. Not wanting to touch him, I pulled on the half boots, hastening from the tent to find help. “Mother!” I found her preparing for bed.

Her look was sour. “Please, I’ve had enough for one day. I can’t bear to hear how I’ve ruined your life one more time—”

“Something’s wrong with him!” I grasped her arm. “You have to see. He’s collapsed.”

“He drank an awful lot. Perhaps, he needs to sleep it off.”

“I don’t think so. Something’s not right.”

“I’ve had a long day, Fanny. It’s been an ordeal for everyone. Can’t we just call it a night? Must everything be tears and dramatics?”

“He’s not moving! Come have a look.”

“Oh, very well, but I’m not happy about this.” I followed her to the tent, where she peered inside. “Mr. Hatch?” She glanced at me. “He’s drunk, my love.”

“Is he breathing?” I hated the fact that I was excited about the prospect of him
not
breathing. “You should check.” I certainly wasn’t going to. “Push on him or something.”

Mother entered the tent, grasping Jason’s shoulder and turning him over with effort. “He’s heavy. Mr. Hatch?” She smacked his cheek gently. “Hello?” Lifting an eyelid, she peered at him. “I haven’t a clue, Fanny. Perhaps he drank far more than we thought.”

“Is he breathing?”

She gave me a look. “I’ll see.” Nearing his mouth, she listened. “I don't hear anything.”

“A pulse. Does he have a pulse?”

Her finger pressed into his neck. “I…oh, dear.”

“What?”

Her mouth fell open. “He’s dead, Fanny. What on earth did you do to him?”

“I never touched him!” Excitement raced through me, which was slightly tempered by a wave of shame. “Is he really dead?”

“I do believe so. There’s no sign of life…at all.”

“Oh, how terrible.”

“What happened before he collapsed?”

“He was undressing, and then he clutched his chest and fell over.”

“It sounds like a heart malady.”

“I suppose. I’ll get my things. I’m sleeping in the wagon.” I crawled into the tent, stuffing items into a leather traveling case.