Squire's Quest (30 page)

I'm almost pretty. What will I do with my hair, though? It's so wild.

Finally everything was settled, and it was still only a little after three. "You go on and
see if you can find some slippers," Mrs. Trueblood told Callie. "I'll have the petticoats ready
when you get back. And don't forget stockings. Silk, if possible."

As she emerged from the cobblers' a little later, a man dressed in rough clothing bumped
into her. When she stepped back and went to move around him, he blocked her way. "Excuse
me," she said, wondering why he was being so rude. Surely he had no designs on her, not here on
Sixteenth Street in the middle of the afternoon.

"Beg your pardon. You looked familiar," he said.

"You don't, and I'd appreciate it if you would let me pass." To her great surprise, her
voice remained steady. He reminded her too much of some of the men in Virginia City, the ones
who'd followed her and sometimes had made indecent suggestions.

He moved to the edge of the sidewalk and she went on, feeling his gaze like pins
prickling along her spine.

Merlin was waiting at Herman's. "Everything's set. Did you find a dress."

"I did, and it's beautiful. I'm on my way to pick it up now."

"Let's go."

"You can come with me, but you can't come in. It's bad luck if you see my wedding
dress beforehand." She didn't know where she'd heard that, but she believed it. Besides, she
wanted to see his face the first time he saw her in the whole outfit, from the flower-trimmed,
veiled headdress Mrs. Trueblood had given her as a wedding gift, to the stylish satin evening
slippers she'd paid far too much for.

Once everything had been packed in linen bags and carefully tied behind his saddle,
Merlin pulled her close. "I stopped by Abner's. The Trebelhorns left town yesterday. Guess they
decided they didn't like the Wild West after all. Will you settle for Jeb and Murphy as
witnesses?"

"Of course." But she didn't want to settle. A woman should have another woman beside
her when she married. "Merlin, can you wait just a minute? I forgot something."

Before he could answer, she was across the porch and opening the door again. "Mrs.
Trueblood," she said, when the dressmaker turned around from where she'd been tidying the
shelf disordered in their search for ribbon trim, "would you stand up for me at my wedding
tomorrow?"

The seamstress's mouth dropped open, but only for a moment. "Why, of course, Miss
Smith. I would be honored. Where and what time?"

"Oh, dear, I don't know. Just a minute." She stuck her head outside and asked Merlin.
When he answered, she stepped all the way in and pushed the door closed. "One o'clock, at the
Congregational church. And we'd be pleased if you'd have a late dinner with us afterward." She
didn't know if Merlin's plans included dinner, but she'd baked for more than one wedding dinner,
and knew it was the right thing to do. "Oh, I should warn you. Mr. Travers, who was cook at
Lambert House, and his sister's family will be in the party. I hope that won't make you
uncomfortable."

"Not at all. My late husband and I were strong abolitionists."

"Then I will see you tomorrow."

Feeling quite pleased with herself, she rejoined Merlin. "Jeb is invited to the wedding,
but I've a woman to stand up with me. Can we go home now?"

Once they were on their way, she became aware Merlin was regarding her curiously.
"What?"

"How many different women are you, Calista Smith? I can hardly wait to discover them
all."

He turned his horse toward the road to the cabin. She followed, wondering exactly what
he'd meant.

Merlin slept in the barn that night. He didn't trust himself to keep his hands off Cal if
they were sleeping in the same room, let alone in the same bed. If he'd already had her, he
wouldn't have thought twice about making love to her the night before her wedding. Since he
hadn't, it just didn't seem right.

A woman deserved the best wedding possible, and that meant the whole shebang. Pretty
dress, flowers, and a gold ring. And a memorable wedding night.

He had found the perfect ring for her, and paying for it had put a good dent in his bank
account. He tucked his hands behind his head and stared up into the dark loft, anticipating the
look on her face when she saw the small, square emerald set flush into the otherwise plain gold
band. It was darker green than her eyes, but close enough.

He hadn't been able to find a single flower in the whole of Cheyenne.

Too bad there wasn't going to be a honeymoon for a while. He'd given his word to
Murphy, and he'd stick until the end of March, if necessary. Two months ought to be plenty of
time to find a replacement for him. "Sure hope he'll be a better blacksmith than I am." So far he'd
managed, but sooner or later he'd be faced with a job he hadn't the skill to do.

He'd done the right thing, asking Cal to marry him. In all his travels, he'd not met a
woman he liked as well. She was good company, a great cook, and a hard worker. Maybe she
was a little too mindful of her pa's wishes, but he trusted her to abide by her marriage vows.
"Forsaking all others." He liked the sound of that. It wouldn't be hard to put her first, ahead of his
folks, but they'd never tried to live his life for him, or train him up a certain way, not like Lemuel
Smith had done.

Merlin was certain sure Smith had intended to sell her, one way or another, now she'd
grown into a beautiful woman. It just made sense, from all he'd heard of the man. Yet Cal hadn't
a notion. She still felt she owed her father a duty.

After tomorrow, she'd owe him fealty, as he would her. He'd take a sight better care of
her than her father ever had.

One of the barn cats climbed on top of him and started kneading the blanket over his
chest. He scratched gently behind its ears. "How about that, cat? I'm getting married tomorrow.
Did you ever hear the like?"

The cat purred, a small buzz-saw of sound. After a while it curled up on his chest and its
purr softened into the barest whisper. Merlin pulled his arms under the covers and closed his eye.
It was a long time before his mind would stop working on what he'd be doing this time
tomorrow.

* * * *

Murphy drove her to town in a buggy. Callie hadn't seen Merlin this morning, but she
hadn't expected to. He'd gone into town as soon as he'd finished chores, intending to get a bath, a
shave, and a haircut. She hoped he wouldn't get his hair cut too short. She liked the feel of it
between her fingers. Just the thought made her hands tingle.

As they approached the edge of town, she said, "Murphy? I'm scared."

He chuckled without taking his eyes off the road, now mostly clear of snow. "I don't
blame you. Gettin' hitched is a big step. I was a mite surprised when Merlin told me. But once I
thought on it, I saw it was the right thing. He'll be a good husband to you, Callie. I don't think
there's a mean bone in his body."

"Did you ever read that story he's so fond of? The one about King Arthur?"

"I'm not much of a reader. Dime novels are about all I can handle."

"He told me the story. It's all about brave, honorable men who go 'round doing good
deeds. They're called knights." The buggy hit a bump and she grabbed the rail. As soon as the
road smoothed out, she said, "Merlin's like one of them, wanting to do good. I'm afraid he's
marrying me more because he thinks I need saving than because he needs a wife."

Murphy pulled the team to a halt at the side of the road. "Callie, there's probably a
hundred reasons why a man might marry, but I doubt if any of them are because he thinks he
needs a
wife
. Were I you, I'd not worry about the why. Just go along with it. Or don't
you care for him?"

"Care for-- Oh, Murphy, I've loved him ever since he saved me from a beating back in
Eagle Rock." As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she grabbed his arm with both hands.
"Don't tell him. Promise you won't tell him."

The only sound for several minutes was the
chug-chug-chug
of a switch engine
in the yards. She forced herself to turn loose of his arm, but hesitated to say anything until he'd
promised. At last he turned his head and looked across at her. "You love him?"

She caught her lower lip between her teeth and nodded.

"Has he said he loves you?"

Still gnawing, she shook her head.

"Have you said you love him?"

"Does it matter? We're getting married."

Shaking his head, Murphy slapped the reins on the horses' backs. "Seems to me there's a
lot you haven't talked about. I just hope it don't come back to bite you later. But I ain't no expert
at marriage, so maybe I'm wrong."

They rode the rest of the way to the church in silence.

As soon as she and Murphy pulled up in front of the church, Mrs. Trueblood stepped out
of the parsonage door and motioned to her. Wondering what was wrong, Callie followed the
narrow path that had been shoveled between the church and the white frame house next
door.

"Reverend Newell wants to talk to you," Mrs. Trueblood said. "Come in."

The preacher was a tall, thin man, wearing a stern expression. "Miss Smith, I do wish
you had come in before today. I like to counsel brides before the great day. But there's no
helping it. Your Mr. Lachlan explained that there was a need for you to marry quickly." His
glance at her waistline told her what he was thinking.

Holding her tongue between her teeth took an effort.

"Now, then, I want to make sure you're aware of the important step you're taking today.
Marriage is not to be entered into lightly. Many a young woman has married in haste and lived to
regret it. Have you known Mr. Lachlan long?"

"About six years." She didn't reckon it was any of his business they'd not seen each
other for nearly all those years.

"That's fine, then. And you've met his family? You're comfortable with them?"

"I don't know his family. They live a long ways from here. I--"

"Unfortunate. How about your family? Has Mr. Lachlan obtained permission from your
father to marry you?"

The temper she'd been holding in check since his first question broke free. "Reverend
Newell, my father abandoned me here in Cheyenne with a few dollars and no place to go. Now if
you don't want to marry us, you say so right now. We'll find us another preacher."

"Now, now, Miss Smith, I'm just doing my duty and a spiritual advisor. If you're
certain--"

"I am. Can we get on with it?"

With a huff and a puff, he gestured her toward the door. "I'll be along in just a moment.
Please wait in the narthex."

When she looked at him in puzzlement, he said, "The lobby. Just inside the front
door."

On their way to the church, Mrs. Trueblood said, "He was quite rude, wasn't he? Since
you're not part of his congregation, he really had no business prying." She followed Callie into
the lobby. "Was that true? Did your father really abandon you here?"

"He just walked off and left me. I was so scared." Even the memory made cold shivers
run down her spine.

"You'll be fine now. Mr. Lachlan seems like a fine young man." She opened the door
into the church a crack and peeked through. "Handsome too. And impatient, I see."

The preacher came in, followed by a woman who bustled past them as if they were
unclean. She slipped into the church, but he lingered. "Who will give you away?" he said after
looking all around.

"Give me away?"

"Usually a girl's father gives her away," Mrs. Trueblood said, "but under the
circumstances..."

"Mine won't. Can't you skip that part?"

His face pokered up, but after a short pause he said, "I suppose, but it's most
irregular."

"Let's do it, then. Mrs. Trueblood, will you walk with me?"

"Of course. Oh! I almost forgot. Just a moment." She slipped into the church, and
quickly returned, holding a small cluster of dark green leaves tied with a white ribbon. "It's not
flowers, but a bride should have a bouquet." Before handing it to Callie, she hugged her. "Be
happy, my dear."

Just then someone began playing a piano. Reverend Newell opened the door and went
inside. He strode up the aisle and took his place at the front of the church.

"Oh my goodness!" Callie whispered when she caught sight of Merlin, off to the side of
the preacher. "He cleans up real nice."

He wore a black coat and trousers, a white shirt with a stiff high collar, and a dark red
cravat. His hair was either cut really short or pulled back, and his expression was more solemn
than she had ever seen him to be. He was staring toward where she stood. When she and Mrs.
Trueblood stepped into the church, he smiled, that wonderful, wide smile that always made her
feel happy.

Maybe he doesn't love me, but he likes me. I'll settle for that.

* * * *

For something so important in a man's life, the wedding ceremony was real short. It
seemed to Merlin he'd just taken Cal's hand in his when he heard the preacher saying, "I
pronounce that they are husband and wife together, in the name of the Father, and of the Son,
and of the Holy Ghost. Those that God has joined together, let no man put asunder."

It gave him a shivery feeling to hear those words. For a moment the weight of all he'd
vowed to do seemed unbearable, something so impossible he'd never be man enough to
accomplish it.

The preacher finished his prayer and said he could kiss her. For the first time he looked
into her green, green eyes.

She was as scared as he was.

"I'll take care of you," he whispered against her mouth. "All my life, I'll take care of
you."

Conscious of everyone watching, he only sipped, instead of taking the great gulp of her
he wanted. He slipped his arm around her shoulders and turned her to face the pews, filled with a
couple of dozen muleskinners, Abner's family, and the seamstress. The piano player started
something that sounded like it should be played when a battle was won.