Joe's Wife. Cheryl St.John
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Tye Hatcher wanted children.
Meg turned the lamp wick down low, removed her clothing and pulled a snowy white linen night shift over her head and buttoned it up to her throat.
Of course he wanted children. Now that he’d brought it up, she might as well get used to the fact that this was going to be a marriage in all respects. She would follow through on her part of the arrangement. It wasn’t as if she hadn’t given a lot of consideration to bringing him here.
She fell to her knees beside the hide-upholstered trunk at the foot of the bed and raised the lid, Reverently, she ran her hands over Joe’s shirts, fingered a hairbrush with a few fair strands still caught in the bristles, and took out a packet of letters held together by a faded ribbon.
Joe had wanted children, too.
These letters were filled with dreams for their future, plans for the ranch, words of caring and commitment. She didn’t want to read them just now. She knew exactly how long it took to read them all, where Joe’d been when he’d written each one, and the post from which each envelope had been mailed.
She knew, too, the bittersweet feelings of melancholy and heartache that swamped her when she allowed herself to open and read them. Those moments were best saved for nights when she could handle the feelings of abandonment and loss.
This wasn’t one of them.
Meg replaced the stack of letters carefully, closed the trunk and, after blowing out the lantern, climbed into bed.
She and Joe had wanted a family.
Each month her body prepared for a baby, and each month came and went without hope for a seed being planted. She was still young though; her body was still firm and strong.
Tye Hatcher was the means to help her fulfill all of her and Joe’s dreams. The ranch. The stock. The children to inherit the land.
That’s how Joe would want it.
She snuggled deep into the coverlet and rubbed her feet against each other for warmth. She would tell Mother Telford tomorrow. Harley and Niles would have to spare her their condescending offers and their patronizing attitudes. She wasn’t going to be put off her ranch now or ever.
Tye Hatcher would help her see to that.
A bolt of unease rocked her midsection and shot a shiver up her spine. She’d known Tye Hatcher since they were children. He was right, about his treatment by the community. She’d told him she didn’t care what the citizens of Aspen Grove thought of her. She wanted with all her heart for that to be true.
She would make it true.
Tye couldn’t help who his parents had been. It was unfair of people to treat him cruelly because of things that were beyond his control.
She could help them see that.
Joe and Tye had never been friends exactly, but Joe had never treated Tye badly, either. This was what Joe would have wanted her to do. Assuring herself of that, she hugged a feather pillow to her breast.
Saturday.
In six days she would marry Tye Hatcher and bring him to the ranch.
Five more nights alone in this bed.
And then she’d be Tye’s wife.
It hadn’t gone well. Not well at all. But then Meg hadn’t expected her announcement to be met with congratulations and hugs of encouragement. Edwina Telford had turned as red as a pickled beet and fairly exploded with indignation. “You can’t be serious!” she’d screeched, bringing Wilsie on the run.
“I am serious, Mother Telford,” Meg had said before Edwina could gather up enough steam to roll over her. “And nothing you can say or do will dissuade me. I’ve made up my mind that I’m going to keep the ranch, and this is how I aim to do it.”
Wilsie brought smelling salts and waved the bottle under her mother’s nose. “My poor Joe will turn over in his grave, God rest his soul,” the woman moaned, wringing her lace handkerchief. “His wife taking up with the likes of that—that good-for-nothing illegitimate rakehell! O-oh! I’ll never be able to hold my head up in this town again.”
“Joe would want me to do whatever it took to hang on to our ranch,” Meg disagreed, refusing to be swayed by her mother-in-law’s histrionics. “It’s not you who’s marrying Tye Hatcher—”
“Don’t speak that name to me!”
“It’s me, and you don’t have to approve of what I’m doing. I’m doing it no matter what anyone thinks. There’s no law against it. I’m an adult and a free woman, and I’ll marry whomever I please. Harley and Niles will have to forsake their plans to disburse my land. It’s going to stay mine.”
“Yours! It’s going to fall into the hands of that man, and who knows what he’ll do with it or what will become of you after he’s drunk and gambled away your last dollar!”
“He promised me he would never sell.”
“Promised? What good is the promise of a heathen like that? Meg Telford, you’ve lost your mind! He’ll make you miserable. He’ll take you down with him! Why, he spends his money and his time in the saloons. He drinks and consorts with floozies! I’ve a notion to send you to the doctor in...”
And so it had gone, with Edwina ranting about Meg dishonoring Joe’s memory, and poor Wilsie trembling and casting Meg fearful sidelong glances. Meg had driven the team home, fully expecting Harley to be close on her heels. He hadn’t arrived until after the accounting office where he worked had closed for the day.
And then she’d gone over the same arguments with him. Mother Telford had a room all ready for her. Meg wouldn’t have to bother herself with the running of a ranch. Edwina needed the company. Tye Hatcher was a sorry excuse for a man. He would ruin her good name and hurt her.
But Meg had stood her ground, firm in her belief that she was doing the right thing—the only thing—to keep Joe’s ranch. Harley had ridden off, anger and disapproval leaving a dusty trail behind him.
It was too much to expect them to understand this soon, she could see that, but they would come around. They had to. Eventually they’d see that she’d made a wise choice in taking Tye Hatcher on to save her land. Tye couldn’t possibly be as bad as they’d made him out to be. Why, it would take three men to do all the things he’d reportedly done and would soon repeat.
Meg had to concentrate on taking care of business. Preparing for this wedding certainly wasn’t like anticipating the first. With no time to have invitations printed, she wrote several notes to her friends and family and posted them, but no one showed up to help her, and the only responses she received were regrets.
Their treatment hurt, but she refused to let it deter her. As soon as they saw that what she’d done was for the best, they would change their minds.
Saturday morning, she gave the house a last-minute cleaning before bathing and dressing, then Gus and Purdy accompanied her into Aspen Grove.
Only a pitiful handful of guests sat in the pews when she made her way to the front of the church. Glancing at them, she recalled her first wedding, the freshly polished pews packed with friends and family in their best clothing, the scent of chrysanthemums drifting on the summer air. That had been the happiest day of her life.
Meg recognized Gwynn immediately and breathed a sigh of relief that at least one person from her family had chosen to bless this union.
A dark-haired woman whom she’d seen in town and knew only as Rosa sat several rows behind Gwynn.
Jed Wheeler sat alone at the opposite end of the hard, polished pew Rosa occupied. He slipped a finger into his shirt collar and adjusted it.
Meg smiled at Aldo and Hunt Eaton’s shy, grinning faces, wondering if they’d asked their parents’ permission or if they’d simply