Chapter 19
As a child, her family attended church each week, and Roseanna recalled her mother's bedtime stories – David and Goliath, Noah and the Flood, Daniel and the Lion's Den. And Christmas hymns, like “Joy to the World,” were her favorite. However, as she sat quietly next to Hilda, Roseanna felt as if all eyes were on her.
Although Judge Lemke had tried to keep her legal woes quiet, there was enough speculation in town to send tongues a’waggin’. But the whispers stilled into shocked silence when Ben settled next to her on the pew Sunday morning and took one of the little boys on his lap.
“Are you sure about this?” Roseanna softly choked.
“It’s the only way,” Ben whispered close to her ear. “Now, don’t worry.”
Trying to take his advice, the shy girl kept her eyes forward, eventually falling into the beauty of the service as the first candle in the Advent Wreath was lit.
When the message was finished, Reverend Fredrickson called Ben and Roseanna forward. “We have the unique privilege of witnessing the union of Benjamin Franklin Chauncy and Roseanna Celestia Sherman today, if the couple will come forward.”
Several women gasped, and Roseanna shrank into her seat.
“Don’t let them get to you, Rosie. Just take my arm, and let’s get this done,” Ben whispered into the top of her hair as he bent to take her hand.
After handing off Sebastian and smoothing the lovely rose-colored blouse Hilda had lent her for the occasion, Roseanna curled her arm through Ben’s.
The organist hurried forward to play a short processional as the couple took their place before the minister.
Smiling down at the young woman, the pastor gave an encouraging wink and then began. “It is always my great pleasure to witness and sanctify the sacrament of marriage.
“When Adam woke from sleep and found the first woman resting beside him, I am absolutely positive that his heart leapt for joy. The Lord’s provision of a helpmate suitable for Adam was a gift unlike any other.
“And the Father understood Eve’s need for a protector, a provider, and a kindred companion,” Reverend Fredrickson said, letting his smile linger on Roseanna. “That is why I am so blessed to see these two come together in unity and faith.”
Once the vows had been spoken and the pronouncement made, the man of God gestured Hilda and Arlo forward so they could hand off the children. And once the older couple returned to their seats, he lifted his hands for the benediction. “Now, may the Lord bless and keep this young family. May the graciousness of God shine upon each of you and give you peace as you journey through this life together,” he pronounced before concluding with a loud “Amen.”
Hilda fanned herself with one hand, but the emotional woman couldn’t help the tiny trail of tears that trickled down her cheek.
Grinning from ear to ear, Pastor Fredrickson introduced the new couple. “May I present to this congregation Mr. and Mrs. Benjamin Chauncy, along with their sons Caleb, Arthur, Jacob, and Sebastian.”
A stilted silence followed the announcement until Hilda began to clap, and when Caleb joined in with his enthusiastic clapping, the congregation began to laugh. “Congratulations, little one. You’ve got your Pa,” she advised.
The afternoon proceeded like any other day, and Roseanna wasn’t sure what to make of the rather anti-climactic experience. As a young girl, she dreamed of white lace, crinoline, and roses. That fantasy had died a painful death under Mr. Matthews’ attentions. But her heart still yearned for something beyond a few quick words before the minister.
Still, she couldn’t fault her new husband for his expediency. After all, there was a dead prisoner to bury as well.
“Oh, dear,” she mumbled, rising from the rocking chair. They’d been so absorbed in their plans for the morning that Roseanna wasn’t sure if the prisoners below stairs had been fed! Tucking her shawl more tightly around the sleeping infant in her arms, she went to the door leading into the Sheriff’s office. “Um, excuse me, sir. Do you know when the Sheriff will return?” she asked the man keeping watch.
“Atlas Washington, ma’am. I’m the blacksmith.”
The introduction made sense, as the ebony-skinned man was larger than she’d ever seen. The heavy muscles in his arms and chest strained Atlas Washington’s shirt, and when the blacksmith stood, Roseanna felt like a young child in his shadow. “Good heavens,” she whispered. “Watch your head.”
Atlas’ laughter rumbled through his chest like the sound of a far away storm, and he grinned down at the petite woman. Lifting a hand over his head, he demonstrated there was ample space between him and the ceiling before resuming his seat.
“Thank goodness,” she stammered. “I feared you’d have a fierce headache if you spent too long in this small office.”
“I admit, I must watch where I’m going at the mercantile. The Prindle’s hang things from the rafters, and I backed into their braids of garlic and onions one day. Nothing smelled right for a week after that,” the blacksmith admitted. Then he nodded to the bundle in Roseanna’s arms. “That boy has a mighty fine set of lungs.”
“Oh, no. I think you mean Jacob. He’s a feisty little fellow, and he’s not very fond of his baby brother.”
“I understand. When my Birdie showed the new baby to his older sisters, there were plenty of tears.”
The front door thumped closed, and Roseanna shivered as a chill entered the room.
“All done, Sheriff?” Atlas asked.
“Yup. But we’ve run into a problem, and Reverend Fredrickson is looking for a few volunteers,” Ben replied, acknowledging Roseanna’s presence with a nod when he noticed her.
“What can I do you for?” the big man asked, hitching his thumbs behind his suspenders.
“You know we always dig a few holes at the cemetery in the fall since the ground freezes plumb solid in the winter.”
“Ah,” the blacksmith sighed. “I get your meaning. We’ve near used all the plots we dug on account of the hangings, and now the fella you planted today.”
“Exactly,” Ben acknowledged. “It seems like we ought to dig a few more open graves before it gets much colder. Or we might end up storing the dead in the icehouse until spring.”
“I’ll check in with Birdie and then head on over. I might as well make myself useful,” Atlas offered as he slipped into his coat. “Then I’ll see if I can’t get some shut eye before I take the evening watch.”
“Graves can wait until tomorrow, Atlas. It’s the Lord’s Day. You head home and get some rest.”