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A short, thin woman, with spectacles perched on the edge of her nose, hurried out from behind a curtain. “What’s the matter, Mamie?” She took a deep breath and patted her heart. “You scared me to death.” Gertrude slid her spectacles back up on the bridge of her nose and peered at Mrs. Darby holding the howling baby in one arm and Angel following behind, wiping her face with a soggy handkerchief.

“Help me get this poor woman cleaned up.” She led Angel through the curtain to the living area, and sat her in a chair.

“Who is she? And what happened?” Gertrude moved to the sink and filled a pan with warm water from the reservoir.

“She’s Nathan Hale’s new bride, just arrived a few minutes ago. The poor thing emptied her stomach out there on the street.”

“Oh, dear. Not a good beginning, I’m afraid.” Gertrude gathered soap and a clean cloth from under the sink and washed the dirt off Angel’s face. “What’s your name, honey?”

She stared at the woman, worked her mouth to say something, and then whispered, “Angel.” New tears fell from her swollen eyes.

Gertrude looked questioningly at Mrs. Darby. “Her name’s Angel.” Mrs. Darby dipped the edge of a wet cloth in sugar and gave it to the baby, which she immediately began to suck on, her eyelashes clumped with tears.

The store owner proceeded to clean the dirt from Angel’s face and neck, and then handed her a glass of water to rinse her mouth. The entire time, tears continued to run down her cheeks.

“Where’s Nate?” Gertrude asked Mrs. Darby as she offered Angel a towel to dry her face.

“I’m not sure where he went. I brought her here right away. Most likely he’s still outside, waiting.”

One of the boys poked his head around the curtain. “Papa wants to know if our new mama is cleaned up yet. He wants to get home before the rain starts.”

“Well, he can’t be bringing this young woman home until they stand before the preacher,” Gertrude said, aghast. “You go tell your pa to come on in here, so I can speak with him.” Rinsing the cloth, she huffed, “The very idea!”

Angel sat on the kitchen chair, her head down, hands clasped in her lap. Her hair still hung tangled in front of her face. She patted the top of her head, but the battered hat had slid over to one side. I’m so tired. All I want to do is lie down and sleep and wake up when this nightmare is over.

The reality of seeing the man in the flesh, along with the children, sucked out the last bit of strength she’d had. All those kids! And he was ready to hand them over to her. She was no more prepared to take over than she was to be Queen of England.

“Ma’am, you sent for me?” Nate entered the kitchen.

“Yes, I did, Mr. Hale.” Gertrude drew herself up to her full height. “You understand you can’t bring this young woman into your home until you’re married, don’t you?”

Angel peeked at her intended, expecting to see anger in his eyes. Instead, he tilted his brow, looking at her uncertainly.

“Uh, yeah, that’s what I originally had in mind, but Miss Hardwick doesn’t seem to be in any condition to get married right now.” His gaze darted toward her again. She lowered her eyes.

“That doesn’t matter.” Gertrude waved a dismissal at the minor problem he presented. “I cannot allow you to compromise her in that way, Mr. Hale.” Gertrude oozed all the vengeance of the archangel Gabriel.

“Well, ma’am, I’ll be happy to comply.” He spoke quickly. “If one of you ladies could notify the preacher, I’ll go and round up the rest of my family.”

Mrs. Darby rose, and with the baby

asleep on her shoulder, headed to the door. “Gertrude, see if you can fix Miss Hardwick up a little, maybe pull another dress out of her trunk. I’ll tell the preacher we’re coming to his house.”

Angel took a deep breath. This was it. No reprieve from being married to the stranger with all those children. Of course, the woman was correct. It wasn’t proper for her to go home with him unmarried, but any last-minute rescue from this debacle seemed unlikely.

After dragging Matt back to town by the collar of his shirt, and rounding up the rest of the boys, he’d gone to the preacher’s house where Angel, Mrs. Darby and Gertrude waited for them. Aside from acknowledging her name when they’d first met, his bride hadn’t uttered another word, or given him more than a cursory glance since their first meeting.

Pastor Michael Dunn was a pleasant man with thinning white hair and thick spectacles perched on his nose. He smiled warmly at them. Caroline Dunn, the pastor’s wife, touched a handkerchief to the corner of her eye.

Angel stared at the floor the whole time, mumbling answers to her shoes. When Pastor Dunn told Nate he could kiss the bride, he bent his head, and when Angel didn’t move, he gave her a kiss somewhere along her hairline. I hope I haven’t just married a woman who’s touched in the head.

Gertrude and Mrs. Darby hugged Angel. Mrs. Darby whispered something in Angel’s ear. The comment went unacknowledged. Uncertain about his new wife, he escorted her out of the house, and into the wagon.

Nate had taken care of having her trunks loaded in the back, and with a nod, the four boys climbed in alongside them. They were all exceptionally quiet, darting furtive glances at Angel. Nate plopped Julia-Rose on Matt’s lap, and climbed on the seat next to Angel. With a flick of the reins, they started for home.

Angel had fallen asleep, her chin resting on her chest. Even in sleep she looked tired and worn. Thankfully, the ride to his house wasn’t long, since she’d likely topple into the dirt. A soft rain fell before they reached home, plastering curls to her head and face. Dark smudges lined the delicate skin under her eyes. Not even the water running down her nose and dripping in rhythm on her chest woke her up.

Try as he might, he couldn’t ignore the swell of her breasts, or the outline of her legs where the wet dress laid against them. Tarnation, the girl looks worn to death, and you’re thinking about her body parts. No wonder you have all these damn kids.


Tags: Callie Hutton Oregon Trail Historical