Colorado Dawn (7 page)

Marcus. He had been one of the first people she’d met when she first got her job at the registry office. She lost count of the times he’d asked her permission to call. Though he was nice enough, she just wasn’t interested, especially after meeting David.

She glanced at her soon-to-be husband. He looked like he might try to beat Marcus to the door in a footrace. She blinked back tears.
You’re doing the right thing, even if he doesn’t realize it right now. Once he learns that your love for him hasn’t changed, he’ll feel safe showing his love to you. Rome wasn’t built in a day, and neither will his confidence return overnight
.

Jesse put her hand into David’s, and the ceremony began.

David didn’t falter in his vows, though his voice lacked enthusiasm. She repeated her promises, squeezing his hand when she vowed to love, honor, and obey him until death parted them. He gave no indication he felt it.

Pastor Van Dyke pronounced them man and wife. “You may kiss your bride.”

Air crowded into her throat. David fumbled for a moment, placed his hand on the side of her face, then kissed her cheek as if she was his mother. She blinked, and the chill that blew through her lingered.

He signed the marriage certificate, his name scrawling off to the side like a primer student’s. Karen wrote her name beneath his, swamped with misgivings and doubt one moment, sure she was doing the right thing the next.

Marcus shook David’s hand and patted Karen on the shoulder then scooted out the door like his tail was on fire. Karen couldn’t blame him, what with David acting like he was taking part in his own execution.

Only once during the wedding breakfast did she catch a glimpse of the David she knew hidden beneath the wounded exterior. Buckford set David’s plate before him and leaned down to whisper something Karen didn’t catch.

The grim expression cemented on David’s face all morning softened, and a smile relaxed his lips. He blew out an easy sigh. “Thank you, Buckford. Thank you for understanding and not judging.”

The older man patted David on the shoulder and cast a glance at Karen. If she didn’t know better, she’d think Buckford was pleading for understanding himself. She lifted her brows, but he shook his head and returned to the kitchen.

Jesse rose when it came time to serve the wedding cake. “A toast to Karen and David.”

Karen lifted her glass of punch. Would David take part? A trapped breath escaped her chest when he felt for his glass and held it before himself.

“Karen, you are a gracious and lovely addition, and Matilda and I welcome you as the daughter we never had. We know that things don’t always work out according to our plans, but they always work out according to God’s plan and for our good.” He smiled and nodded several times, his eyes suspiciously bright. “David, you’ve had a bumpy road this past little while, but with Karen by your side, I foresee things smoothing out for you. If I didn’t know how much you love each other, I would’ve suggested waiting for this union, but if ever two people were meant to be together, it’s you. I wish you all the happiness you deserve.” He raised his glass. “To Karen and David.”

Matilda and Sam echoed his words. “Karen and David.”

Karen pressed her glass to her lips and took a deep drink, all the while watching David over the rim. He lifted his punch and took a sip, his face thoughtful. Was he softening?

The family scattered as soon as they could decently do so, leaving Karen and David alone together for the first time all day.

She folded her napkin into a square and laid it beside her plate.

“So, what’s your next move, Mrs. Mackenzie?”

“I was just going to ask you the same thing. Where do we go from here?”

“You’re not already regretting your decision, are you?”

“Of course not. It would be natural for me to ask what your plans are for the near future.”

“How appropriate, because I do have plans. Buckford is upstairs packing my things. I’m headed to Denver to take up residence in the town house. Certain information has come to my knowledge that makes it prudent I separate myself from my family for the time being, my mother in particular. The train departs in two hours.”

“You’re leaving?” She gripped the napkin, crumpling the precise folds she’d just created. “What about me?”

He rubbed his hand down his face and tested his temple with his fingertips. The bruise had faded to a pale yellowish green, and he didn’t wince as he probed. “I can’t very well travel alone, now can I?” His lips twisted. “I can’t do much of anything alone anymore. You can come along and get a taste of what it means to be married to someone in my condition.”

“Why leave your family? And why your mother in particular? I would think you’d prefer to stay here where everything is familiar.”

“Suffice it to say, I’ve had enough of my family pushing me around. Mother can’t help herself, and I’d rather you were away from her influence as well. At least if we’re in Denver, she won’t be dreaming up any wild notions like having her own son sued.”

Karen stared at her plate. “You know about that?”

“I know about a lot of things. You’ve gotten your way about the wedding, you and my mother, but that’s as far as I’m willing to go. We’re leaving in two hours, so if you’re coming, you’d best gather your things.”

She swallowed and took a staggering breath. Denver. Perhaps it wasn’t such a bad idea. They could be alone, just the two of them in the family’s town house. Maybe then some of the barriers to their happiness could begin to come down.

Karen boarded the railcar first, with David following, his hand on her shoulder.

Jesse helped the porter with their bags and hovered in the doorway. “Wallace said to congratulate you on the wedding, and that he’s happy he could provide the private railcar for you, especially on such short notice.”

Karen stood on tiptoe and kissed her father-in-law’s cheek. “Thank him for us. I’ve never traveled in such luxury before. And thank you for all you and Matilda have done. I’ll wire you when we reach Denver, and I’ll write every chance I get.”

“Be sure you do.” Jesse hugged her, his voice gruff. The door slammed in his wake, and Karen stooped to look out the window at his tall frame striding across the platform.

“Alone at last.” She unpinned her hat and set it on the table. “It will be nice not to be interrupted for a while. Here, there’s a chair just to your right.”

David shrugged off her hand and found the back of the chair himself. He removed his overcoat and hat, and once seated, leaned his head back. “We won’t be in to Denver until well after dark. I didn’t sleep well last night. I’m going to nap.” With that he closed his eyes, shutting her out.

She contemplated the transom windows in the high point of the roof. Every time she thought she might have found a way past the armor and walls he’d erected, he cut her off. She dropped onto a velvet upholstered davenport, and her hand fell on the
Godey’s Lady’s Book
Matilda had given her. Her mother-in-law had written a letter of introduction to her dressmaker in Denver and instructed Karen to purchase a trousseau and spare no expense. Karen leafed through the pages, but her mind hopped from one thought to another so she couldn’t concentrate. Finally she put the book aside to contemplate her husband.

She studied his features, loving each plane and angle of his face. In sleep, his face looked younger, less careworn, relaxed. He had loosened his collar and tie. His watch and fob glinted in the lamplight from the wall sconce.

Jesse had taken the crystal from the watch so David could feel the hands and know the time. His entire family had worked hard to show him they cared, that they loved him and wanted to help him, and yet he’d repelled them at every turn.

“Oh, David,” she whispered, “where do we go from here? The more I try to fix what’s between us, the more snarled things become.”

Conviction whispered through her soul, forcing her to own up to what she hadn’t wanted to face. She’d rushed into this marriage, scheming and plotting instead of praying and waiting. Now they were married, and there could be no turning back.

Lord, please forgive me. I have been selfish and willful. Instead of asking for Your will and direction, I rushed ahead, grasping for what I wanted, taking it without waiting for You to give it to me. I’m like Jacob in the Old Testament, conniving to get the blessing rather than waiting for You to give it to me. How can a marriage based upon a scheming plot ever be happy? How can love grow, or how can we glorify You? I am broken, Lord. I beg Your forgiveness and ask You to show me Your will. Help me to love David. Help me to show him Your love
.

She wiped at the tears on her cheeks and moved to the desk in the corner. A quick check of the drawer revealed stationery and pen and ink.

Karen tried to explain about the accident and David’s blindness and thus the quick and quiet wedding. As she wrote, she could almost feel her aunt’s arms encircling her. What wouldn’t she give to be able to see her aunt now, to petition her for advice?

Hattie had been Karen’s lifeline, her only family after her father passed away. Hattie, who had accompanied her brother to the mountains to help him raise his daughter, who had waited until Karen was grown before moving back to Kansas City, her much-loved and much-missed hometown. Perhaps, if Hattie was fully recovered from her illness and back to full strength, she could come to visit them. Maybe for the Christmas holiday.

When David awakened some time later, Karen knew a measure of peace, though she was no closer to knowing how to reach her husband. “Did you have a good nap?”

He rubbed his hands over his face and rolled his shoulders. “Have I slept long?” He reached into his vest pocket and retrieved his watch, his fingers whispering across the face.

“Almost two hours. Are you hungry? A porter brought a tray, but you were sleeping so soundly I didn’t wake you.”

“I’m not hungry.”

“You hardly ate anything at the wedding breakfast. You need something. There’s chicken and biscuits and some apple pie.” She lifted the cover on a plate. “I had some. It’s really good.”

“I told you I’m not hungry. Stop hovering.”

She replaced the lid and tugged at her lower lip, considering him. “I believe I’ll excuse myself for a while. If you change your mind, the tray is on the table beside you. I’ll just be down the hall, so if you need me, call out.”

“I’m quite capable of sitting here alone without your help, Karen.”

Her steps swayed with the movement of the train, and she kept her hand on the wainscoting as she edged down the narrow passageway. She passed a bedroom where a double bed took up almost all the space then another small compartment with two chairs facing one another and a bed folded up into the curve of the ceiling. Beyond that a tiny galley and a washroom.

She splashed water on her face and patted it dry, then took pains to re-pin her hair. When she’d wasted nearly ten minutes, she made her way back to the salon.

He’d eaten at least a little, confirming her suspicion that his proposed lack of hunger was a ruse to avoid eating in front of her. A few biscuit crumbs dotted his vest, but his face was clean.

“This is the most beautiful railcar I’ve ever been in. There are green velvet drapes and stained-glass transoms overhead. The woodwork—I’m not sure what kind—is stained a honey gold. And the chairs and davenport are a deep blue. There’s a patterned carpet on the floor in greens and blues and golds that harmonizes everything. There’s the most cunning little bathroom about four doors along the passage. Though the tub is so small I imagine you’d have to step outside to change your mind.”

His hand caressed the armrest of his chair, and his shoe moved slightly, as if picturing in his mind all she said and testing it for himself.

Because he remained silent, she found the courage to continue describing things. “I’m wearing a dark burgundy dress. It has a high-standing lace collar and white cuffs. The skirt is full, probably too full for traveling, but I wore it because you once told me you liked it.” She picked up the catalog. “Your mother told me to order some new clothes for the winter season while we’re in Denver.”

“I’d rather not talk about my mother right now.” He stretched his legs out and laced his fingers across his vest. His brows puckered and he brushed the fabric, scattering the few crumbs onto the floor. “I have no idea what I’m wearing. I merely put on what Buckford laid out.”

This glimpse into his new dark world set up an ache in her heart. She tried to keep her voice matter-of-fact. “You are wearing gray trousers, a white shirt, and a black silk vest.” Her gaze traveled over him, assessing and describing. “Your face is thinner now, and your hair is a bit longer. Only a trace of bruising remains on your temple.”

“No one has bothered to describe things for me as you have just done.”

Fearful of saying the wrong thing, she tried to put into words what he needed to hear. “Perhaps they didn’t know how best to help you. Your family loves you, David. They would do anything for you. They just need to know what.” She held her breath for his reaction.