Lazy Days (27 page)

Slowly he turned toward her. "I want to
marry you, Abigail Mary Vaughn."

She held her breath.

He continued, "Soon."

She couldn't breathe.

"Will you marry me, Abby?"

Finally her voice worked and she said softly,
"Yes."

"There's something we need to talk about
though."

"Okay." She waited.

"Luke doesn't want me to marry you."

"I know that, and I understand how he
feels."

"He doesn't want me to sleep with you,
either."

Abigail placed a hand over her heart. Never had
she imagined having this sort of discussion with a man and she wasn't prepared
for it. She couldn't think what to say.

Brant said, "We need to talk about that
part of our lives, Abby. I don't intend to be a monk. I expect us to be husband
and wife in every way."

Abigail nodded, but she didn't know if he saw
it.

"I'll give you time to adjust. You can stay
in your own room. I don't know how long it will be, but…I'll try to be patient.
It'll give Luke time to come around, too." He turned the full force of his
gaze on her and Abigail felt her knees go weak.

She said, "I understand and accept your
conditions, Brant Samson."

"Then I'll ride out tomorrow and ask the
preacher to marry us on Sunday."

Abigail nodded.

"Before you go back in the house, there's
one more thing, Abby."

She gazed questioningly up at him.

"I intend to kiss you."

Abigail's lips parted in surprise and his
lowered to them. The kiss was light, sweet, but filled with so much promise
that Abigail made a tiny sound and leaned into him. He cupped the back of her
head and increased the pressure until Abigail was lost in a sea of sensation.
She didn’t want to go back in the house. She wanted to kiss Brant all night
under the moonlight.

He broke the kiss. "Miz Abby, I think you
best go in now."

Feeling embarrassed by her aggressive behavior,
she rushed inside.

Jenny
helped Abigail dress for her wedding. Now that it was here, she was a bundle of
nerves. The little girl cinched Abigail's corset as tight as a child of ten
could and then helped her into the cream colored dress Abigail had designed and
sewn with the help of a seamstress before leaving Philadelphia. Her marriage
may be one of convenience, but it was still a special day that she'd wanted
fond memories of.

Gently,
Jenny touched the multiple lace layers spanning the bodice and sleeves.
"It's so beautiful, Miz Abby! My Pa is gonna think you're the prettiest
lady in the world."

Those
words, spoken with such innocence, meant more to Abigail than her most precious
jewelry. If only they were true. She had no illusions about herself. She didn't
consider herself physically appealing and she knew Brant was only marrying her
to mother his children. Yet, a spark inside her breast wanted him to look on
her today with longing. Reaching for her wide brimmed hat with a short veil that
she would pull down over her face before the wedding, she said breathlessly,
"I-I guess I'm ready."

"Wait!"
said Jenny. "You've got to have something old, something new, something
borrowed, and something blue."

"Oh,
goodness. I didn't think about that." Suddenly, Abigail had an idea.
"How about this for something old and something new—something old will be
my name, Abigail, but something new will be the name your father calls me,
Abby. I'll think of myself as Abby from henceforth."

"I
like that, Miz Abby! Now what about something borrowed? Wait! I've got it in
the trunk in my room!" Jenny rushed out the door and returned a few
minutes later grinning widely. "My ma gave me this on the Christmas afore
she died. And look, it's got blue stitches in it."

Tears
sprang to Abby's eyes. "Thank you, Jenny. It's perfect." Tucking the
delicate handkerchief into her sleeve, Abby bent and kissed her soon to be
stepdaughter.

Jenny
walked to hold the bedroom door open.

Placing
a hand over her heart, Abby said a silent prayer of thanksgiving for her new
family. Leaving her room, she paused in the doorway and inhaled a calming
breath. Brant was sitting at the table sipping coffee. Ty and Luke were eating
biscuits and boiled eggs.

Jenny
called to her Pa, "Look Papa, isn't Miz Abby pretty?"

When
Brant turned, he jumped up and almost knocked his coffee over. Jenny giggled.
Ty said, "Pretty Mama," and Luke shoved a biscuit in his mouth,
solemnly chewing.

"You
look lovely," Brant said in his wonderfully deep voice. "And so do
you, Jenny."

"You
look very nice, too," Abby responded shyly. He wore black slacks and a
handsome double-breasted white shirt. His work boots had been replaced by dress
boots polished to a spit shine. His longish hair, combed back, still glistened
with water and his blue eyes seemed even bluer in contrast to his deep tan. He
was so much more than she had anticipated.

"Well,
guess we best get started." Brant picked Ty up and walked him to the sink
to wipe his hands and face.

Jenny
rushed to the door. "Come on, Luke. Don't be a jerk today."

Luke
narrowed his eyes at his sister.

Brant
said, "You should eat something, Abby, before we leave. We'll wait."

"Goodness,
no. My stomach has too many butterflies to make room for food." Her
admission, spoken without thinking, made her want to cringe in embarrassment.
Brant only did that "quirk of the lips" thing that meant he was
laughing on the inside. He reached for his hat and slipped into a black frock
coat. He looked so handsome and his shoulders were so wide, Abby could barely
breathe.

As
the horses plodded to the church, Jenny talked about everything from wedding
dresses to the dietary habits of chickens. Wally followed them the customary
half mile and gave his forlorn look when Brant ordered him home. Ty sat on the
buckboard between his father and Abby and pointed to objects along the way.
"Twee…burd…wabbit." Abby held her parasol over their heads and
smiled, smoothing the baby's curls. She thought about the coming winter months
and the lesson plans she'd already begun designing for Jenny and Luke. She was
making picture cards for Ty.

"A
penny for your thoughts," Brant said.

Abby
met his gaze and smiled. "I've been thinking about lesson plans and some
books Luke and Jenny might like to read. I've even got lessons planned for
Ty."

Brant
gave her a grateful look. "Thank you, Abby." His slow smile made her
pulse race. Glancing back at the fall countryside, she pulled her cloak tighter
and marveled at the colorful leaves, blue sky, and rolling hills of her new
home that now seemed the loveliest place on earth.

Brant
pulled the horses into the churchyard. On the outskirts of town, it was already
filling with people. "Looks like the whole town's turned out for the
wedding," he mused. He lifted Ty from the wagon, handed him to Luke, and
then came around to help Abby down. The touch of his hands encircling her waist
sent shivers up her spine and she felt her face burn. For an instant, his hands
lingered and held her close.

Luke
started walking toward the church and Brant said, "Hold up, son. We'll
walk in as a family."

His
words sent a thrill through Abby's heart. Never, during the lonely years of
caring for her parents, had she believed she would have her own family. She'd
imagined what it would be like, but never truly thought it would happen.
Perhaps it wasn't too late for her to bear her own child. The possibility sent
another wave of crimson color to her face and she glanced at Brant to see him
offering her his arm. Smiling shyly, she accepted it and they all walked into
the church together.

Immediately,
parishioners descended and offered congratulations. Mrs. Merriweather, the
pastor's wife, whom Abby had met at the barn-raising, welcomed them and said a
reception had been planned for after the service. She looked almost as nervous
as Abby felt. "I just love weddings!" she gushed, and then proceeded
to exclaim over Abby's dress.

At
precisely ten o'clock everyone found their seats and Mrs. Merriweather played
the piano. Lovely songs were sung and then the freckle-faced young pastor took
the pulpit, announcing the wedding would be at the end of the service.
Thankfully, he shortened his sermon and spoke about the acts of kindness
performed by the disciples. He encouraged everyone to perform their own acts of
kindness that day. Finally, he said, "Now it's time to join Brant Samson
and Abigail Vaughn as husband and wife. After the wedding, we'll be celebrating
with food and song. I'd like to thank everyone who brought something for this
momentous occasion on such short notice."

Mrs.
Merriweather, tall and thin, whereas her husband was short and stocky, walked
back to the piano, a huge grin on her face, and began playing a soft tune. The
pastor said, "Will the happy couple please come forward?"

Brant
sat Ty on the bench beside Jenny, but the toddler climbed to his feet so he
could see what was happening. Abby followed Brant into the aisle, pulled her
veil over her face, and accepted the arm he offered. Between her excitement and
not eating, she was feeling dizzy. In a daze, she walked to stand before the
pastor. Unwanted thoughts raced through her mind.
Do you really want to
marry someone who doesn't love you the way a husband should love his wife? Are
you ready to become the mother of three children? Can you handle living in the
wilds and not the city?

"Please
hold hands," said Pastor Merriweather, and the music ceased.

Brant
reached for her hand that trembled and she realized it was now or never if she
wanted to call off her wedding. When his warm clasp enfolded her fingers, she
knew without a doubt that he was the husband she desired.

The
preacher said, "Dearly beloved, we are gathered together in the sight of
God to join this man and this woman in holy matrimony…"

Abby
listened to the preacher's words in a fog. She really should have eaten
something. After a time, he said, "Do you, Abigail Mary Vaughn, take Brant
Samson to be your wedded husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, in
sickness and in health…" Softly, she said yes when he finished his
question.

When
the preacher asked for the rings, Brant reached inside his pocket and brought
out the simple bands he'd purchased the day before at the general store. Her
hands shook when it was her turn to place the ring on his finger.

The
preacher spoke more words and Abby's head felt fuzzy. Then he said words she
understood, "I now pronounce you husband and wife. Brant, you may kiss
your bride."

As
if in slow motion, Brant raised her short veil and touched his lips to hers.
When he lifted his head, she saw concern in his eyes, just before everything
went black.

A
familiar deep voice, speaking from far away, barely penetrated Abby's void. She
concentrated on the soothing sound. "Abby, open your eyes and look at me.
Abby, open your eyes."

The
darkness felt safe and she didn't want to leave it, but the voice was
persistent and kind. With difficulty she lifted her eyelids.

"That's
my girl. Talk to me."

After
a few seconds of confusion, awareness flooded her and she glanced around. She
was inside the church being held on Brant's lap like a child. Several people
surrounded them looking concerned.

Mortification
made her eyes widen. "I'm so sorry I fainted."

Relief
passed across Brant's face and he looked up. "She needs to eat. Can
someone bring my wife a slice of bread and something to drink?"

"I'll
get it," said Mrs. Merriweather.

The
pastor boomed to everyone, "Now that we know Mrs. Samson is fine, let's
push the benches aside and ready the room for the newlyweds' reception. We'll
just leave Brant and his Missus alone for awhile."

Abby
listened to the commotion of scraping pews and directions being called out. She
said shakily, "I think I can sit up now."

Brant
lifted her to sit beside him and Mrs. Merriweather returned with bread wrapped
in a cloth napkin and a glass of milk. He accepted the sustenance from her and
the woman patted Abby on the shoulder.

Mrs.
Mina Priestly walked over and said, "You're gonna be jus' fine. Gettin'
married to this outstandin' specimen of a man would have any gal
faintin'."

Abby
felt embarrassed by her words.

Brant
acted like he hadn't heard the old woman. "Here, honey, eat some
bread." He handed the napkin to her and she gratefully nibbled. After a
few minutes, he handed her the milk. The food and drink revived her strength
and she glanced around to see they were sitting on the front pew and all the
other benches had been moved to the walls to make room for tables placed in the
center of the room. Ladies were filling the tables with food. A smaller table
held a cake.

Abby
said, "Goodness, I didn't expect all this."

Brant
said softly, "A wedding is something to celebrate."

Lifting
her eyes shyly to his, she smiled her agreement. Soon, Abby got over her
initial embarrassment about fainting when the parishioners treated her like one
of their own. Never had she felt such a sense of belonging. She was beginning
to associate names with the faces of her neighbors.

Brant
stayed by her side, and other than a couple of times when she saw a look of
sadness in his eyes, he was attentive and funny. Her wedding day turned out to
be wonderful; something quite different from what she had expected. To her
relief, Lola Pitts and her parents didn’t attend.

One
of the younger mothers, Mrs. Lita Brandon, took oversight of Ty and Jenny and
insisted that all three of Brant's children spend the night with her family so
Brant and Abby could have at least one night alone. Abby protested, but Brant
agreed.

The
same fiddlers from the barn-raising struck up happy tunes and the country folk
celebrated heartily. Brant explained, "Winter's coming, and everyone
celebrates as much as they can before then. Gives a person something to
remember on cold, stormy nights."

Late
in the afternoon, Brant helped Abby onto their wagon and bid everyone goodbye
amidst shouts of "Congratulations!"

As
he turned the wagon toward their cabin, nervousness infused her chest. She
tried to make small talk, but Brant had turned quiet. No doubt he was
reflecting on his new state of matrimony. She figured the sadness she'd seen in
his eyes earlier stemmed from remembrances of his wedding to his first wife,
the love of his life.

Wanting
to be sensitive, Abby ceased talking and watched the countryside.