“Then they should all be dead,” she said quietly, not meaning for him to hear, but he did, and she felt bad for the hurt on his face. It really was nice of him to help her in this way; it was just that this was not what she’d hoped for her marriage. She’d wanted her friends there, Jane and Debbie, and she’d wanted to look beautiful, not as though she’d spent the night in a coal bin.
As she walked down the aisle, she glanced up at Cole, saw the way the sunlight glanced off his blond hair, and she nearly ran out the back of the church. She’d wanted to walk down the aisle with Gregory, with the man she loved and not this stranger.
A minister was standing at the head of the church under a lovely arch of greenery and tiny white flowers. Had this been someone else’s wedding, Kady would have marveled at how beautiful everything was. The choir was singing, but she could hardly hear them. At her wedding to Gregory, she had planned to have a soprano from the New York Opera Company sing.
She hadn’t been aware when the minister had started the service, so she wasn’t aware when he stopped it. She was only aware when she felt the eyes of everyone in the church on her.
Still holding her arm tightly as though if he let go, she’d flee, Cole handed Kady his handkerchief. She had no idea when she started crying. Not the great wrenching, noisy sobs that she could feel inside her body, just hot tears slowly running down her cheeks in a steady stream.
“Don’t mind me, I always cry at weddings,” she said to the minister, then, after a confirming look at Cole, he continued.
Somewhere during the short ceremony, Kady said what she was supposed to, so eventually she heard the words that declared she was now married to this man. Bracing herself, she expected him to kiss her. He had that right now, didn’t he?
But Cole didn’t kiss her. Instead, he accepted the congratulations of the choir members, never letting go of Kady’s arm, and after a while, he led her out of the church onto the porch. There they were pelted with rice as the people wished Cole and his bride the best of luck and happiness forever. They also hoped the two of them would have a hundred children.
Amid all the laughter of friends, no one seemed to notice that Kady didn’t say a word.
Cole helped her onto his horse, then, still fending off pelting rice, he led them past the church, then took a left and followed a deep creek until they came to a cluster of log buildings. To their right was a large opening in the side of a mountain that could only be one of Legend’s silver mines.
“The Lily Mine,” Cole said, the first words he’d said to her since their “marriage”—if that loveless ceremony could be called that. Cole dismounted, talked to a couple of men for a moment, then turned to help Kady down.
He led her to a small white tent, and inside was a little table covered with a white cloth, a broken and mended ceramic vase of wildflowers in the center.
“We’ll bring you some food in a minute,” one of the men who’d followed them in said. “You just tell us anything you need, Mrs. Jordan, and we’ll do our best to get it for you.”
It was the name that nearly did Kady in. She’d so looked forward to being called Mrs. Norman, but instead she had been given this stranger’s name. “Thank you,” she said, but the tears running down her cheeks increased in volume.
“Well, ah, yes, well, I’ll leave you two alone,” the man said, backing out of the tent nervously.
As Cole held a chair for her, Kady nearly fell down onto it. She’d sold herself for a plate of mush, she thought, her head on her hands.
Reaching across the table, Cole took one of her hands. “I’m not as bad you seem to think,” he said softly. “Honest.”
She forced a little smile. “I know. I am being horribly ungrateful, and I apologize. If you’d appeared in my time, I don’t think I would have taken your predicament to heart the way you have mine. I wouldn’t have made the personal sacrifice that you have. I do thank you.”
“Good,” he said, smiling. “Now, what do you want for a wedding gift?”
“Soap,” she said without hesitation. “And a hot bath.”
“Wise choice,” he answered seriously, making Kady give a tiny bit of a smile.
She started to say more, but the tent flap was pulled back and in came the food, great quantities of it, all of it set on the table until it nearly collapsed under the weight.
Kady lost no time digging in, reaching into each dish with her fork, not bothering with putting it on the chipped plate that had been set before her. Cole also ate, but he was more interested in watching Kady.
“You like our Colorado cooking?” he asked.
“I would like to see the man’s skillet,” she said, mouth full.
“His skillet?”
“I figure the cook has a skillet big enough to fry a whole sheep, head, hooves, and all, and he half filled the skillet with lard, then cooked all of this food in the grease.”
Cole blinked at her. “How else do you cook?”
So much information filled Kady’s head that she could form no words. She just kept eating, one vegetable, one meat indistinguishable from another. Even the baking-powder biscuits had been fried in the grease. But now she was so hungry she’d have to worry about her arteries later.
After Kady had eaten all she could hold, she was overcome with sleepiness. Yawning, she said, “How far away is your house?”