The Wedding of the Century & Other Stories (14 page)

Amy glanced back over her shoulder at Jesse. He was standing, listening to her father talk. As she looked at him, he suddenly seemed a stranger to her. She did not really know him, and yet before long she would be living with him, married to him for life! It was a disturbing thought, and she turned quickly and left the room.

She started toward the stairs and the peace and safety of her own room, but before she reached the bottom stair, Corinne came after her and grabbed her by the arm and pulled her back around.

“What did you think you were doing?” she asked furiously. “Now you've ruined everything!”

“I know.” Tears welled up in Amy's eyes. “I'm sorry.” She and Corinne were not the good friends that some sisters were, but she hated to have her angry at her.

“People will talk about me,” Corinne went on, fueled by her favorite topic—herself. “They'll wonder if I'm loose like my sister.”

“Corinne!” Amy cried, stung. “I'm not! You know I'm not!”

Corinne made a dismissive gesture. “Of course not,” she said disgustedly. “You would never do anything
wrong. But that's what people will say. How could you have been so stupid? Did you actually believe that Charles was interested in you?”

“I—I couldn't quite believe it,” Amy admitted. “But he
seemed
to be.”

“Oh, for heaven's sake! I knew right away what he was. That's why I turned him down. It was me he wanted, you know. He was always hanging around. He asked me twice to marry him, but I turned him down. That's the only reason he started dangling after you.”

Amy looked down at the floor, struggling not to burst into tears. Corinne was right, of course; she should have known that a man could not possibly be interested in her, especially not with a beauty like her sister around. She had been foolish to let Charles turn her head, and now her whole family would pay for her misdeed. Even though she could contain the scandal by marrying Jesse, there would still be whispers.

And Jesse would pay most of all. It seemed awful that he, innocent of any wrongdoing, should have to suffer for her foolishness. But how else could she save her family? She told herself that she would not have agreed to his proposal just to save herself the shame and scandal. She would have endured it, knowing that she deserved it. She was marrying Jesse for Mama's and Papa's sake. And Corinne's, too. Corinne had been blameless and, for once, far wiser than Amy had.

“I know,” Amy admitted, her voice barely a whisper. “I was so silly and wrong. I'm sorry. Oh, I wish I could go back and do it all over. Poor Jesse!”

“Poor Jesse?” Corinne repeated scornfully. “I wouldn't waste my time feeling sorry for him. He gets to marry the rancher's daughter! He's gaining wealth and position. Why, I bet Papa even gives him some land for you all to live on. He'll make quite a profit off the deal.”

Amy's head snapped up, and she glared at Corinne. “Jesse would never do it for that!” she protested fiercely.

Corinne's eyes widened with surprise at her meek sister's transformation, and she took a step backward.

“He did it to be kind, not for any thought of profit,” Amy went on. “He is giving up his whole life, his chance at ever loving someone, just to save me! Just to help our family! Now, you take back what you said about him!”

“All right, all right.” Corinne turned her hands out, palm up, in an exculpatory gesture, though her voice was still laced with sarcasm. “I'm sure Jesse has done no wrong.”

“Well, he hasn't!” Amy thrust her chin out defiantly, and she gave her sister a look of warning. “And I don't want to hear anyone around here saying another bad word about him.”

With that, Amy turned and stalked up the stairs, leaving Corinne staring after her in amazement.

T
HE NEXT TWO WEEKS WENT
by in a whirlwind of activity. Amy did not realize it, but much of the work was orchestrated by her mother with the primary purpose of keeping Amy's mind off the scandal and the approaching nuptials. Mrs. McAlister took her youngest sister's wedding dress, only seven years old, down from the attic and tailored it to fit Amy's smaller frame. She also bought two lovely bolts of material from the mercantile store in town and made Amy new dresses, declaring that she could not send her off to her husband looking like a ragamuffin.

She set the girls to washing the linens in Amy's hope chest, making sure that all of them were as fresh and neat as the day they had sewn them. When they weren't busy sewing, they were cooking or cleaning the house, for even though it was to be a small wedding, attended only by family, there would be plenty of guests, since Sylvia McAlister had been born here and had dozens of aunts, uncles and cousins. Also, a few very close friends, like the Boudreaux family, would be invited, and, of course, all the ranch hands. It added up to quite a few people, and there would be a celebration afterward. Sylvia McAlister was not about to send her elder daughter off without any ceremony, no matter what the haste. Therefore, the house must be spotless and the larder well stocked.

As Corinne had predicted, Amy's father had decided to give the young couple a piece of land as a wedding present. It was not large, but it was plenty for Jesse to
break and train wild horses and sell them, which was what he wanted to do. The land had an old line shack on it at present, and Jesse and a couple of the other hands were staying there until the wedding, getting the house in suitable shape. So Amy did not see her future husband until the wedding.

She thought many times about what her marriage would be like, and was nervous, scared and excited by turns. She wondered about the wedding night, and what it was exactly that Jesse had promised not to demand of her.
Was it the same thing that happened when animals mated?
Amy couldn't quite imagine how it would work, and it made her blush to think of it.

Sylvia tried to talk to her about her marital obligations once, but she stumbled and blushed and tiptoed around the subject so much that Amy could make little sense out of it—although she assured her quickly that she understood, just to put her mother out of her misery.

Amy knew that Jesse would keep his promise, and that she did not need to be nervous or shy, but she thought that surely he would
someday
expect her to be a real wife to him. He was probably giving her time to get adjusted to the idea, to him…unless, of course, he found her so unattractive that the thought of coupling with her repelled him. Perhaps that was why he had been so quick to promise not to push her sexually. Saddened by that thought, Amy found herself hoping that he didn't really intend to keep his promise forever.

Amy might not know anything about her “marital duties,” but she knew well enough that she did not want to spend the rest of her life being a sham of a bride—a wife in name only—with a husband who tolerated her just because he had to pay back a debt to her father.

Such thoughts kept her worried and on edge until the day of the wedding. She had seen Jesse only once since
their wedding was announced, and that had been the day before the wedding, when he had returned from the line shack he was rebuilding for them. He had come up to see her that evening, but both of them had been awkward and had little to say to one another. Jesse had seemed like a stranger to Amy, and her stomach had knotted more tightly than ever.

The wedding ceremony was late morning the next day. Amy's mother and sister helped her into her aunt's wedding dress, and Sylvia arranged her hair into a thick roll, with little tendrils of hair escaping and curling around her face. Then she stepped back and smiled into the mirror at her daughter's image.

“You look beautiful,” Sylvia assured her. “Just as a bride should. Doesn't she, Corinne?”

“Yes,” Corinne responded grudgingly.

Amy looked at herself in the mirror. She thought that she did, in fact, look rather good today. So often the fussy frills and bows of fashionable dresses overwhelmed her petite figure, but the elegant simplicity of this dress, a few years out of fashion, suited her, and its creamy yellow color warmed her pale skin. Her mother's pearls, lent for the occasion, glimmered at her ears and throat, as smoothly beautiful as the satin of the dress. Her cheeks were faintly flushed, and her big brown eyes were bright with excitement. She smiled back at her image.
Would Jesse look at her and find her beautiful?
Suddenly she wanted that more than anything in the world.

Corinne and Mrs. McAlister left Amy's bedroom and swept down the staircase. Amy followed them, alone, a moment later. As she neared the bottom, Amy drew in her breath sharply. The parlor was filled with people, and at the sound of her footsteps they all turned to look at her. Amy was not used to being the center of attention, and her stomach turned to ice. She faltered on the stairs
and reached out to grasp the banister to steady herself. She went down the last few steps, feeling more and more nervous with each movement.

How could there be this many people here?
Her nerves multiplied the number until the waiting crowd seemed like a vast blur of unfamiliar faces. Then her eyes fell on Jesse, standing at the front of the parlor with the minister from their church. He was smiling at her, and her nerves settled a trifle. She started walking toward him. As long as she concentrated on Jesse and ignored the staring faces around her, she was all right. She didn't even look over to where her mother and father sat, suddenly afraid that looking at them would make her start to shake or, worse, to cry.

She reached the front, and Jesse took her hand. Her hands were freezing, and she knew he must feel that through her lace mitts. He squeezed her hand reassuringly, and she was grateful for the warmth and strength that seemed to course through his hand into hers. She looked up at him, and he smiled down at her, giving her a wink that somehow relaxed her.

The minister began the ceremony. Jesse's replies were strong and sure. Amy had been afraid that she would stumble over her words or forget what she was saying, but she managed to get everything out, even if it was in a rather soft voice.

Then, suddenly, it was over. The minister was smiling at her, and Jesse turned and bent to give her a brief kiss. His lips barely brushed hers, but she could feel his breath against her skin, the warmth of his flesh, and it was a strange sensation—but not unpleasant. It reminded her of the way it felt when she ran her horse—a little scary, but exciting, too.

They turned away, and Amy's parents came up to them immediately, shaking Jesse's hand and hugging her. Tears
sparkled in Mrs. McAlister's eyes, and she squeezed Amy to her tightly before she stepped back to let her husband and Corinne have their turns. After that, there were all the relatives to greet, as well as the ranch hands, but for once Amy felt too relieved to dislike the crush of people.

Afterward, they ate at trestle tables set up in the side yard, for the day was sunny and mild, despite the fact that it was almost November. Of course, the men got into games of skill, as they usually did, while the women cleaned up after the meal. The men laughingly excluded Jesse from the riding competitions, such as racing or leaning down out of the saddle to swoop up an object from the ground, saying that as groom he wasn't allowed to enter. Jesse protested, saying that they were cutting him out only because they knew he would win. But his protests were faint, and he seemed quite happy to sit beside Amy on the porch with the older relatives and watch the sport.

Later in the afternoon, when the games finally wound down and the children had been put down for naps upstairs, Uncle Tyrah got out his fiddle and struck up a tune, accompanied by another man, who pulled a harmonica from his back pocket.

“First the bridal couple has to dance!” Amy's great-aunt Hope called out as people began to gather around.

“Well, I reckon we'd better oblige,” Jesse said, holding out his hand to Amy and leading her into the center of the yard, where a circle had formed to watch the bridal couple.

Amy followed him, picking up the train of her skirt and looping it over her arm. Her stomach was dancing with nerves, and she hoped she wouldn't stumble or do anything to disgrace herself. “I—I don't dance very well,” she said in a stifled voice, keeping her eyes down.

Jesse reached out and put his hand on her waist, taking her other hand in his. “You'll do fine.”

Amy looked up into Jesse's face, warmed by his reassuring words.
How handsome he was!
She wondered why she had never noticed before. But, no, she realized, he wasn't handsome, exactly. His hair was a little too long and shaggy, and his features were a trifle too rough. He looked like a man who had seen more of life than anyone should have had to at his age, and yet…there was a certain sensitivity to his wide mouth, a kind of wary vulnerability in his eyes that refuted the wildness. He looked, not handsome, but…intriguing. Desirable.

At that thought, Amy glanced quickly away. The music started, and they began to dance. Jesse danced competently, and he kept a firm grasp on Amy's waist, guiding her without hesitation. Amy found that it was easy to follow his lead, and she looked up at him again and smiled.

He grinned back at her triumphantly, and his face lit up, his eyes taking on a twinkle and suddenly looking very green. He looked different—younger and even a little mischievous, a lurking charm overwhelming his usual tight, tough control.

A funny fluttering started inside Amy. She was very aware of her hand in his, his callused palm rough against her skin. His other hand felt very large upon her side, the fingers curling around onto her back. She could feel their heat even through the cloth of her dress. It was curiously exciting.

This man seemed like a different Jesse from the one she had known for five years. He was no longer just one of her father's employees whom she liked, but one of those vaguely frightening creatures known as eligible males, the sort of person with whom she was expected to talk and dance and around whom she was tongue-tied and stumbling. She could feel the smooth power of his muscles as he guided her around the outdoor dance floor, the leashed
force of the male being, and the thought made her shiver. She wondered if Jesse had any idea of the effect he was having on her. Amy hoped not; she imagined that he would be disappointed in her if he learned that only two weeks after he'd found her in a compromising situation with one man, she was feeling these strange stirrings about another man.

Amy wondered if she was abnormal. She had heard other girls talk of love, of feeling faint or dazzled or breathless when this man or that talked to them or took their hand for a dance, but she had never heard any of them mention the odd, faintly sizzling sensations that she was experiencing right now. No one spoke of being supremely aware of a man's body close to her own, of the sinew and muscle that lay beneath the firm flesh, or of the heat of the skin. She had never heard anyone describe the hot, melting feeling growing in the pit of her stomach. And it seemed to her decidedly unladylike to be imagining Jesse's hand gliding down her back, where it now rested, and over her hips and legs.

Amy blushed at her own thoughts.
Did the things she was thinking about have anything to do with the “marital duties” Jesse had spoken of?
She suspected that they did, and she suspected, further, that Jesse would be shocked to know what she was thinking. He believed her to be pure and innocent, the sort of woman who would recoil from bedding a man she did not love. Yet here she was thinking about doing that very thing, and feeling not repulsed but excited. She knew that she must not let him know what she was thinking. When the dance ended, Jesse's arms relaxed and fell away from her slowly. Amy murmured, “Thank you,” and looked up into Jesse's face. He was not smiling, and there was an odd glint in his eyes. Amy wasn't sure what it meant, but her heart began to beat a little faster.

“Thank
you.
” Jesse's voice came out a trifle hoarse, and he had to clear his throat. His eyes moved over her face, and Amy wondered what he was thinking.

As the next song started, other couples broke from the circle around them and began to dance. Jesse raised his eyebrows questioningly, and Amy nodded. He took her in his arms again, and they began to waltz. Amy felt as if her feet were floating across the ground.

They danced several more dances, but then her mother pulled her away, reminding her that they'd better be on their way before it grew dark. Her father's buggy was brought up from the barn. Amy's trunk and a carpetbag were strapped to the back. The rest of their things, including furniture, had been taken over to their new home in a wagon the day before, as had their riding horses.

There was no getting away without a shivaree, a wedding custom in which the bridal couple were sent off with a maximum of noise. A couple of boys set off firecrackers, and everyone shouted out good wishes and jests, many of them bordering on the bawdy. Amy suspected that they got off lightly because she was the daughter of most of the men's boss, although sometimes the jests were enough to make women cover their ears. Cal Boudreaux's son, Joe, and two of her cousins mounted their horses and rode madly around the buggy and across the yard, firing their guns in the air and letting out rebel yells. Jesse grinned and slapped the reins across the horses' backs, letting them have their heads. Amy twisted around in her seat and looked back. Her parents and Corinne stood on the steps in front of the porch, waving.

Tears filled Amy's eyes, and an ache bloomed in her chest. She was leaving her family forever; after this, she would return only as a visitor. She waved and blew them a kiss, continuing to wave until the figures had receded into the distance and she could no longer make out anything
but the shape of the house. At that point their last two pursuers pulled up and swept their hats from their heads, waving goodbye. Amy and Jesse tossed them a last salute, and Amy turned back around to face the fast-approaching sunset. Her throat felt tight with unshed tears, and a confusion of emotions tumbled inside her. She glanced over at Jesse, and he smiled at her.