Chapter 3
Chapter Three
The train pulled into the Denver station at four o’clock sharp. Quite a few people were getting off here, but more were staying on headed to Salt Lake City or on to San Francisco for opportunities in work or adventure.
The porter got her trunk and set it on the platform next to her.
“Here you go, Miss Loring. You have a good life here.”
“I will. Thank you, Mr. Harper. I appreciate your assistance during my journey.”
“You’re very welcome.”
Emily got a dollar out of her reticule and handed it to the man.
He took it and raised his hat.
“Thank you, Miss Loring.”
The porter turned and reboarded the train.
She looked up and down the platform. Finally she saw a tall man wearing a black hat and a long beige duster walking toward her with apparent purpose.
“Are you Miss Emily Loring?”
The deep baritone of his voice gave her shivers. She’d never heard such a wonderful sound when someone spoke.
“Yes, I’m Emily Loring.”
He removed his hat.
She saw he had brown hair with lots of gold highlights. She would guess he didn’t always wear his hat in the sunshine.
“I’m Ben Logan.”
“Pleased to meet you Mr. Logan.” She looked up into impossibly blue eyes. They were a darker blue than the sky but not quite sapphire.
“Is this your trunk? Should I be expecting more?”
“Yes, this is mine and no, there are no more. This one trunk is it.”
“Good.”
She raised her eyebrows.
He offered no other explanation, simply lifted the trunk and carried it toward the end of the platform.
“If you’ll come with me we can get something to eat and maybe get to know each other a little better.”
“I’d prefer to get married right away. I came here to get married and that’s what I want to do. If you don’t want to marry me then say so now. Otherwise let’s go see the…judge, I’m assuming since it is Saturday, it won’t be a preacher. Do you know a judge that can marry us today?”
I am determined to get married and my stomach is wracked with knots but I don’t want to wait and have him change his mind. If he’d rather not marry me, I want to know it now, sooner rather than later when perhaps I’ve fallen in love with him.
He cocked an eyebrow and grinned.
“Feisty little thing aren’t you.”
She looked directly at him through narrowed eyes. “There is nothing ‘little’ about me, Mr. Logan. I’m five feet, seven inches tall and, as you can see, I am not rail thin. If that puts you off, I’d like to know now.”
He shook his head. “No. It doesn’t put me off. I like a woman with curves. If that’s the way you feel, then I’m all for getting married right away, too. The judge is a friend of mine.”
They got to the wagon, one she’d never seen the likes of before. Definitely rougher than what she was used to in New York.
“What kind of wagon is this?”
“It’s a buckboard, meant for hauling grain and hay, not passengers. I apologize for your discomfort, but I didn’t know how much luggage you would have.”
Ben hefted the trunk into the back and then helped Emily onto the bench seat. He went around the back of the wagon to the other side and sat next to her before picking up the reins.
He looked at her, his blue eyes showing concern. “Are you sure you wouldn’t rather get to know each other for a few days before we get hitched?”
Is he really worried about my feelings or is he trying to let me down easy?
“No.” She sat up straight, as though her back had a rod in it. Regardless of what Sally had said Emily knew from experience that men didn’t really like her curves and she thought Ben was just being nice. She’d give him one last out.
She stared down in her lap as she spoke. “Look, you’re very kind, but the men in New York set me straight about the kind of woman they want and I wasn’t it. I don’t want to take advantage of your kind nature. I’ll see you get your money back, even for the clothes I bought…if you want it.”
“Whoa, Miss Loring.” He turned her face toward him with the knuckle of his right hand. “I’m not from New York. As far as I’m concerned the men there must be idiots. I don’t want my money back. I want a wife.”
Emily raised her gaze and smiled, suddenly very glad she’d decided to come west and marry this man. A real man.
“All right, let’s do this.” She looked forward, over the horses, over the people and the buildings toward the mountains.
Snow caressed the top of the highest peaks but whether it was fresh or simply hadn’t melted from last winter she didn’t know.
The beauty that surrounded her was amazing.
She’d never seen mountains, much less this close. They truly were majestic.
Ben slapped the reins on the horse’s butts to get them moving. Because they were in town and there were people crossing in front of them without paying any kind of attention, he kept them at a slow walk.
“So, Emily, can I call you Emily.”
“Yes, of course, and I’ll call you Ben. That is only proper.”
“What’s your background, Emily? Do you have family?”
“No. No family. I was raised in an orphanage. Until recently, I’ve made my living as a governess.”
“A teacher? Then you decided to become a mail-order bride.”
“Yes. Yes. I did.” There’s no need to tell him that I was let go for apparently flirting with my employers husband. “But I’m really a believer of what’s past is past.”
“As am I.”
Ben looked down at his bride. A teacher. Would she think him uneducated? Heck compared to her, everyone he knew was uneducated.
Pretty as a picture with hair the color of the palest corn silk and eyes the color of his favorite whiskey.
And she was lushly built. She worried that he wouldn’t want her because she was built like a woman.
Heck, he wanted someone whose body would meld with his and she was definitely made the way he liked them.
He should have known with Melissa and her thin body that they weren’t meant to be together.
Nothing was wrong with being slender but Ben wanted a woman who felt like a woman.
“Ben? Ben?”
“Um. Yes.” He glanced at her. “I’m sorry. I was lost in my thoughts for a moment.”
“When do we get to the judge’s house? Or is he in the courthouse?”
“He’s home, which is a good thing. His wife and one of his children can stand as witnesses to our marriage.”
“That’s wo…wonderful.”
Had he heard a tremble in her voice?
“Are you nervous, Emily?”
She nodded and looked away.
“Good. I’d be disappointed if I was the only one nervous about this.”
She snapped her gaze back to his.
“You’re nervous, too?”
“Yes, ma’am. But, after seeing you, I’m more determined than ever that we get married.”
“What a nice thing to say.”
She blushed a pretty pink, and he wondered if she was that color all over.
They pulled up in front of a large brick home. Nothing about the house’s design was overt but instead was tastefully done with many windows, in both the first and second stories. Double mahogany wooden doors were framed in white and each had a great gold knocker in the shape of a lion’s head on it.
Ben set the brake, and then went around and helped Emily to the ground. He hoped Emily wasn’t like Melissa, expecting something as fancy as this city house. What if she did? Would she be happy with his simple ranch home?
“Ready?”
She took a deep breath, looked at him and nodded.
“As ready as I’ll ever be.”
They walked up the graveled path, to the door where Ben used the lion’s tongue on the right side door to knock three times.
Shortly, the door was opened by a gray-haired man wearing a black suit, crisp white shirt, black tie and white gloves.
“Yes, sir, may I help you?”
“Hi Thompson. We’d like to see the judge.”
“May I tell him why you’re calling, Mr. Logan?”
“This is Emily Loring and we’d like to get married.”
“Very good, Mr. Logan. Please wait here.”
“Sure thing,” said Ben.
Thompson returned from down the long hallway.
“The judge will see you now. Please follow me.”
Ben reached over and took her hand, which was ice cold.
She must be as nervous as I am.
The action worked. She appeared less anxious about what was happening.
They walked down a long hallway to the last room on the right.
The butler went through the doorway first.
“Mr. Ben Logan and Miss Emily Loring.”
“Thank you, Thompson. That will be all,” said the judge as he walked over and shook Ben’s hand.
“Ben, good to see you.”
“You, too, Hank. This is Emily, my mail-order bride, and we want to get married.”
“I see. Well, never let it be said that Hank Richardson stood in the way of what could be true love.”
Ben chortled.
“Ha! Not likely.”
Emily was too nervous about getting married to argue the point.
When they’d been married for a while and knew each other well, then she might wonder at the validity of Ben’s statement.
“Now, Ben,” said the judge. “Don’t let the past color your future. You got darn lucky to my way of thinking.”
“You’re probably right, Hank. Let’s get this wedding going.”
“Roberta!” hollered the judge.
An attractive woman with graying brown hair and wearing a dress the color of peaches, entered the room.
“Do you have to yell every time you want me? Oh, hi Ben. Who is that with you?”
“This is Emily Loring. She and I are getting married if you and Bobby can stand witness for us.”
“Hi, Mrs. Richardson. Nice to meet you.”
“You too, dear, and we’d be pleased to witness your nuptials. Let me go get him.”
She disappeared through the doorway she’d entered.
The judge went over to the desk and began to write on a piece of paper there.
“I need your full names, please…for the marriage certificate.”
“Benjamin Joseph Logan.”
“Emily Jeanette Loring.”
Shortly, Mrs. Richardson returned with a tall young man, with spectacles and curly brown hair. He towered over his mother.
“Are you ready now?” asked the judge.
Ben gently squeezed Emily’s hand.
“We’re ready.”
She nodded.
“Yes, your honor.”
“Just call me Hank. Unless, of course, you’re in my courtroom,” said the judge genially. “Now, you two stand right where you are, Roberta and Bobby will stand next to you.”