Husband By Arrangement. Angel Moore
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me.”
Scott slowed the wagon to cross the railroad tracks and headed through the center of town. The stationmaster lifted a hand as they drove by. “Morning, Sheriff. Mrs. Braden. Must say I’m a bit surprised to see the two of you back in town so soon after your wedding.”
Rena sensed Scott stiffen on the seat beside her. He nodded and answered, “Good morning.”
“Oh my. I think we’re going to be the object of more attention than I realized.” She straightened her back and held on to the rail on the side of the seat.
“Yes. Not much more interesting has happened in town in recent weeks.”
In the center of town, he steered the wagon to the right. One more left turn would find them at her father’s house. The home where she’d grown up with her father and mother.
How she wished her mother had been here to advise her. Her death had left Rena and Papa with memories of a wonderful woman and no one to guide Rena through her years of becoming a young lady. If her mother had lived, she felt certain she wouldn’t be in this situation. Momma would have known she was sneaking around with Eugene. Just like she’d known when Rena had broken the sugar bowl that had been in their family for two generations.
Momma had known so many things without being told. Could Rena ever hope to be that kind of mother? Doubt filled her again.
Scott stopped in front of the yellow clapboard house. He bounded to the ground and came to help her down. It was so uncomfortable. Living in town had meant she could walk almost everywhere she went. Climbing in and out of a wagon with a man’s assistance was something she’d have to get used to. Knowing the man was her husband caused a peculiar feeling in the pit of her stomach.
“Do you want to come inside and speak to Papa?” She turned to walk through the front gate of the low picket fence that separated the small yard from the dirt street.
“I’ll come in long enough for you to make your list.”
They entered the house and found her father in his study. The large desk he sat behind was one of Rena’s favorite pieces of furniture. She loved how Papa looked behind it. As a girl, she’d always thought him the most important man in town.
Knowing what he’d done yesterday to protect her reputation and the town’s future proved she was right.
“Good morning, Scott.” Papa rose to shake hands with Scott. He turned to Rena. “Hello, Rena.” The way he lowered his tone when he greeted her told of his ongoing sadness.
The sting of her heart was fresh. Never had he been cool or reserved with her. How she hated the pain she’d brought to him. The fracture of their relationship was her fault. And she found it unbearable. He’d been so pleased when she’d started attending services with him again. How she hated the disappointment he must feel at realizing how desperate her need for God was.
“I’ve come to get my things.”
Papa nodded but didn’t speak.
Scott had his hat in his hand. “Oscar, I’d like to speak to you about a matter of town business if you have a few minutes.”
“Certainly.” Papa returned to his chair.
Rena looked at the two of them. Scott lowered his tall frame into a wooden chair opposite her father. They settled in for a conversation as they had done many times over the last couple of years. The likelihood of her being the topic of today’s business was undeniable. “I’m going into the kitchen to make that list, Scott.”
“Fine. I’ll be here when you’ve finished.” He didn’t even turn to look at her. As she closed the door, he said, “I think there are some things we can do that will help—” The heavy door kept her from hearing anything else he said.
At the table in the kitchen, she made a list of all she could imagine she’d need for a week of cooking and cleaning. It took longer than she imagined. She racked her brain for things she remembered Scott commenting on that she’d cooked in the past. Those items went on the top of the list.
She was almost done when she heard the door to the study open.
“Thank you for taking care of that for me, Scott.” Her father’s voice carried down the long hallway and into the kitchen.
“You’re welcome, sir. We’re in this together. That’s the only way for it to succeed.”
Her father closed the study door. As she listened to Scott’s boots on the wooden floor, she wished she hadn’t caused them both so much work and worry.
Scott came into the kitchen. “Do you have the list?”
She stood and handed him the paper. “If it’s too much, let me know. I can pare it down.”
He read the list. A few lines down the page he smiled and gave an approving sound and a nod. “This is fine.” He tucked the paper into the pocket of his pants. “Is there anything you need from me before I leave? Do I need to get the trunk out of the attic?”
“No. It’s in my room.”
“Okay. I’ll be working then. You come when you’re done.”
“It won’t take too long. I may try to see Charlotte if I finish before it’s time to eat.”
Scott nodded and left her to her work.
She pulled her apron from its hook by the back door and draped it over one arm. In the hall, she ran her hand along the edge of the frame on the table near the bottom of the stairs. It was her favorite photograph of her mother.
Everything was spinning around in her head. She was leaving this house today. Her best friend would be strained by a refusal to discuss her sudden marriage. That action could cause her to lose Charlotte’s trust. Was there no end to the consequences of one choice made months ago without thought for the future?
In the room she’d lived in all of her life, Rena opened her mother’s trunk and put the apron inside. She opened the bureau drawers and took out the things that would make her new house a home. Tears trickled down her cheeks, and she dashed them away.
This was the only choice she’d had. Her baby required a home and father. Papa and Scott had made that happen. Rena wouldn’t mourn that choice. There had been no other course of action.
Next she tucked the dresses that hung in her wardrobe into the trunk with care. She pressed the pillow from her bed on top of the dresses and lowered the lid of the chest. Her shoes were put in a crate that she lined with a length of fabric. She pulled the quilt from her bed and folded it.
Standing in the center of the room, she wondered if Papa would mind if she took the washstand. It had been her mother’s. The blue flowers painted on the white basin and pitcher were as delicate as she remembered her mother to be.
A knock sounded on the bedroom door. She opened it to find her father.
“May I come in?”
“Of course.” She stepped aside. “I was just finishing up here.”
Papa looked around the room. “I’m not sure what I’ll do with myself now that you’re grown and married. I’ll miss our talks after supper. And reading the Bible together at night.” He turned to her. “It’s done my heart good to read with you these last few weeks. Your momma would want you to have this.” He put her mother’s Bible in her hand. “Promise me you’ll keep reading it.”
“I will, Papa.” Her breath caught. He might be upset with her, but his love was still there.
“And come see me. Come here or to my office when you’re in town.” His voice cracked a bit on the last words.
Rena flung herself into his arms. “Oh, Papa! I’m so sorry I’ve made a mess of things. Please forgive me.” She sobbed against his chest.
“Hush, child. You’re forgiven.” He patted her back. “I