A Baby For Christmas. Linda Ford
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very noble, son, but it hardly seems enough reason to marry.”
Likely it didn’t to anyone but himself and Louise. “We’re of a like mind.” Their reasons were enough to satisfy him. “I’m going to buy a ranch and it will be nice to have a home and family, too.” His insides coiled at purposely leading her to believe forever was part of their plan. He’d told her of the place he hoped to purchase. His journey home would be slowed by having to accompany Louise on the stagecoach. He wouldn’t have any time to spare if he hoped to get back to Edendale in time to meet the mountain man. “You could come too, Ma.”
“Thank you, but no. This is my home. I’m too old to start over again.” She wiped a tear from the corner of her eye.
“You’re thinking of Pa, aren’t you?” Nate could barely recall his father. A man who laughed a lot, roughhoused with Nate and kissed Ma often.
“I never got over him. You are so much like him.”
“In what way?” It seemed important to know, seeing as he was soon to become a husband, if only for a week.
“You look like him. He wasn’t much older than you are now when he died. You are like him in other ways, too. He was ready and willing to help those who needed it.” Nate knew the story. He’d been killed helping a neighbor put up a barn. A beam had fallen and crushed him.
His mother stood up. “But enough of that. I need to get ready for a wedding.” She was halfway out of the kitchen before she stopped. “Help yourself to the soup.”
“Yes, Ma.” He didn’t have time to eat. There were details to take care of now.
“Make sure you eat. The day will be even busier as it goes along.”
When he didn’t move, she hustled to the stove, filled a bowl and set it before him. “Eat.” She waited until he put a spoonful in his mouth.
“Mmm. Good.”
“Now I must get ready. Will you come and get me when it’s time?”
“Yes, I will.” He ate the soup hurriedly, then trotted over to the house next to the church where he found the good preacher. A man he hadn’t met before who introduced himself as Pastor Manly.
Nate took that to be his name, certainly not a description. The pastor was slight, pale and fidgety.
Nate explained he wanted to get married. “This afternoon.”
“Fine. Fine. Bring your bride here.” The man had thin white hair. Its thinness likely not helped by the way he ran his fingers through it.
“Is there some reason we have to get married here?” Perhaps there was some law saying where people could wed.
“It’s convenient.”
“Could you marry us at Miss Williams’s house?” he asked, naming Aunt Bea.
Did the pastor blush? He certainly tapped the tips of his fingers together rapidly. “Yes, yes. What time?”
He hadn’t asked Louise what time suited her. He’d have to guess. “Would five o’clock suit?”
“It will be fine. You will need two witnesses of legal age.”
“Miss Williams and my ma, Mrs. Hawkins?”
“Yes, yes. Now, let me get ready.” He waved Nate away.
Nate hurried from there to the stagecoach depot and checked on tomorrow’s departure of the stage.
The agent consulted a schedule. “Be here by seven-thirty. The driver will want to be on his way by dawn. Days are short.”
“Thanks.” Nate didn’t hang about to see what else the man had to say but hurried to Aunt Bea’s to inform Louise of the time of the wedding.
At his knock, she pulled him inside and closed the door. “Vic’s been hanging about out back.”
“I’ll take care of him.” He eased Louise aside, intending to dash out the back door. Louise stopped him.
“Leave him be. What did you find out?”
He told her the arrangements for the wedding.
“I’ll be ready,” she said.
“You haven’t changed your mind?” Seemed now was the time to do so if she wasn’t sure.
“I’ll do what I have to to get away from him.” She jabbed her thumb over her shoulder.
He studied her, recognized the look on her face. It was the same one she used to get when he and Gordie said she couldn’t join them in some activity. Didn’t matter if it was playing ball, climbing a cliff or rowing a boat on the river. She always insisted she could do whatever they did even though she was a girl and a year younger.
He chuckled.
“What’s so funny?”
“I remember how you always had to prove you could do whatever Gordie and I did.”
Her fierce gaze didn’t falter. “Seems I did it, too.”
“Except rowing the boat.” He chuckled again at the memory of her tipping over her boat and falling headfirst into the river. “I pulled you to safety or you’d likely have drowned.”
Their gazes riveted together, full of memories of a happier time. It had come to an end, of course.
She smiled. “Guess it’s up to me to prove again that I can face a challenge.”
He held her gaze. Or did she hold his? “I guess it’s up to me to rescue you again.”
He saw the protest in her eyes, but before she could voice it, the look faded to acceptance.
“You won’t regret it. I promise. You’ll be free as soon as we get there.”
From somewhere down the hall, Missy called Louise.
“I have things to prepare.” She held the door for him and locked it when he left. He stood on the step a moment, wondering how she could promise there’d be no regrets.
Then he hurried back to Ma’s house.
She must have been watching for him, for she met him at the door wearing a dress he hadn’t seen before. Dark blue taffeta with tiny fabric-covered buttons on the bodice. Not that he’d normally notice such things, but he was smart enough to recognize this as a special dress. Likely her best.
“When is the wedding?”
He told her the time.
“Good. That will give you time to bathe and put on your finest duds.”
“Me?”
“Of course. You want to look and smell your best.”
He sniffed. “Smells like you’ve been cooking.”
“I made some goodies for tea afterward. It’s customary.”
He wanted to protest. After all, this was only a pretend marriage. But of course he couldn’t tell his mother that. He had to go along with her plans.
“Get at it, son.” She pushed him toward the kitchen.
He looked at the galvanized tub in the middle of the kitchen floor. Ma was serious about the bath. Moreover, his best shirt and trousers hung freshly ironed and waiting.
He pulled the blinds and took a quick bath.
Besides his own clothes, there was a vest in gray pinstripe that he’d never seen before. From the mothball smell, it must have been in storage. He put it on. A little short, but wearing it turned his plain white shirt into something a little fancier. Ma had also left a black tie, which he tried to knot.
“Are you decent?” Ma called, and entered at his grunted yes. “I’ll do that.” She quickly