Your obedient servant,
Mason Chandler
Judith read the letter twice before it made sense. She tugged Emma closer still, uncertain what to say.
“Well, that came out of the blue,” Emma said.
Judith thought she might have heard a trace of relief in her daring sister’s voice. Had Emma been granted a grace period, whereas Judith must marry today?
“Don’t you worry,” Mrs. Ashford said. “We have a guest room for you, and you can help out in the store till he comes home.”
Emma folded the letter and slipped it back into its envelope. “Thank you.”
“Now that’s taken care of,” Mrs. Ashford said, “let’s unpack the wedding dress and get it pressed. Everyone’s waiting at the schoolhouse—it doubles as our community church—to see Judith and Asa marry.”
Judith’s mouth opened and closed, but no words came out. Marry? Today? But she and Asa had just met. Again she felt the sensation of being swept along.
“Come. Come.” Mrs. Ashford waved at them. “Where’s the wedding dress?”
Emma moved forward. “In Judith’s trunk, wrapped in tissue paper.” Emma went to the right trunk and undid the clasp. Soon the two women hovered over the trunk while Judith stood by the window, frozen. She’d never thought they’d marry the day she arrived. A sinking feeling gripped her.
Mrs. Ashford rose, holding the full dress over both her arms. “The perfect shade of blue. A good choice. You’ll look lovely, and it will serve as your best dress for years to come.”
Judith shook herself and came toward the woman as if wading through cold water. When Asa had assured her in his last letter that he would take care of all arrangements, she’d assumed he’d meant finding her a place to stay and something to do while they got to know each other. She ruefully thought that she’d just learned the first lesson of marriage—not to take for granted that what she assumed he meant was what he actually meant.
She gazed at Mrs. Ashford, seeking some kind of reassurance.
And the lady read her expression aright. “Asa Brant has lived here almost two years. He is an honest man, always pays his bills. He attends church regularly, and whenever the community needs to do something as a whole, he always pitches in. He is well respected and well liked, though he usually keeps to himself.” The woman frowned on this last bit of information. But no doubt to a woman such as Mrs. Ashford, a desire for privacy and quiet might be seen as unusual.
Judith digested this and drew in a deep breath. “Thank you.”
Mrs. Ashford came nearer. “Miss Jones, you’ll find that no woman really knows what kind of husband a man will make until they are married. You are pledged to an honest, well-respected man. That’s a good place to start.”
Judith nodded, mentally clinging to the final phrase, a good place to start.
“Now, let’s get this dress pressed. Everyone’s waiting!” Mrs. Ashford carried the dress into the kitchen to the ironing board. “Amanda, take the ladies into Miss Jones’s room so they can freshen up.”
The young girl moved out of her mother’s shadow and showed them to a cheery but small room with a comfortable-looking bed that took up most of the space. Amanda pointed out the pitcher and copper bowl filled with warm water. Then she left them.
Judith and Emma exchanged glances. Emma held up a hand. “We’ll discuss my odd turn of events later. Let’s wash up and get our hair back into order. That dress will be ready before we know it.”
Judith let Emma pull her along, preparing for this unexpectedly immediate wedding. But doubts still swirled in her stomach. The one man she’d loved had spurned her. Now she, who’d previously given up on marriage, was going to marry a man she knew only through letters exchanged over the fall and winter. The nuptials would happen today, within the hour. I’m going to be married today, she repeated to herself, trying to believe it.
* * *
In the schoolhouse cloakroom, Asa shed his winter coat and muffler, still stunned by seeing Judith Jones. For a moment, he saw her again stepping off the boat and then looking up at him. He had not expected to recognize his bride, but he had—from a tintype he’d seen long ago. The tintype had belonged to her brother, his comrade in arms. But she hadn’t recognized him, which was a relief.
Surely she would never realize that she’d seen him twice before, never learn of their connection. The shock of recognizing her equaled the shock of seeing that his bride was not what he’d expected. He hadn’t anticipated the wave of instant attraction to her. He’d had trouble saying the few words to her that he’d managed to voice.
“Well, you have a neat-looking bride,” said the town blacksmith, Levi Comstock, slapping Asa on the back.
Asa nodded. Judith was a lot more than neat. She was trim and pretty with thick dark hair and deep brown eyes. He’d expected a woman who couldn’t attract a man and had prepared himself for someone plain. He shook his head as if trying to clear his mind of his preconception. He’d wanted someone plain, a woman who would fill the lonely hours and demand nothing from him deeper than kindness and respect. Judith Jones was not that sort of woman, commonplace, unremarkable. She was the complete opposite of those terms. His pulse sped up. He clamped down his reactions.
“Miss Jones appeared to be a pleasant and modest young woman,” said Noah Whitmore, the town preacher, leading them through the schoolhouse, where people were already gathering. The three of them went into the teacher’s quarters in the rear. The teacher had invited them to use it as a place for them to await the bride, out of the public eye.
“I don’t know how I’d handle marrying a woman I’d just met,” Levi said, buttoning himself into his suit coat.
Asa fully agreed with this. But he’d had no choice. No young women flocked to this frontier town. Out of desperate loneliness, he’d offered marriage to this woman. He could not face another winter with hours of remembering the past he yearned to erase from his mind. Women talked, and he planned for Judith’s voice to fill up the long, empty, silent days. But Judith’s large, honest eyes warned him that this woman was more than he’d bargained for.
“Sunny and I didn’t know each other very well when we wed,” Noah said, checking his reflection in the small shaving mirror on the wall and smoothing back his hair. “Being married is a special relationship. It might help to know a woman well before one weds, but many other couples have met on their wedding day.”
Asa appreciated Noah’s calm voice. He also knew that Noah was a Union veteran like himself. Asa’s deep-down worry thrust up into his throat, preventing him from speaking. He’d spent four long years during the war killing men, destroying everything in his path. He’d seen things no man should see. How did a soldier put that behind him and become a husband and maybe a father? He felt himself seize up inside as battle memories surged through his mind and his arteries pumped his blood hard. He wished he could ask Noah how he’d come to a place of peace. But men didn’t ask other men those kind of questions.
He drew in a deep breath. He’d come this far and he couldn’t back out, couldn’t jilt a sweet-looking, scared-looking woman like Judith. This was harder for her. She was putting her life in his hands, trusting him to be her provider and protector. He could do that, offer her that. But he had nothing more to offer. Did she sense that?
“The ladies are busy in my upstairs,” Ashford, the storekeeper, came in, rubbing his hands together. “Wish we had nicer weather for the wedding. But we’ll manage. We’ll manage.”
And