Chapter 2 #2
Whatever the case, after months of being alone, he’d had the time to get over her and move on. Now no one and nothing was stopping him from getting married tonight. That was for sure.
Thatcher was ready to leave for town in record time.
He could hardly contain his anticipation and found his nerves increasing the closer he got to Breckenridge.
He was grateful for Jeremy’s companionship and questions about how the marriage ads worked.
The discussion kept Thatcher distracted and from being too nervous.
The ad hadn’t been all that hard to place in the Matrimonial News, which was sold on street corners by newsboys right alongside other newspapers.
The advertisements cost twenty-five cents and had to convey height, weight, and personal appearance as well as financial and social position in life using only forty words or less.
To avoid publishing names and addresses, the advertisements were numbered. When finding an ad that looked like a potential match, the person replied to the Matrimonial News office. From there, the inquiry was passed along to the appropriate person.
Eileen had responded to his advertisement, and then they’d exchanged several letters before he’d asked her to come to Breckenridge and be his wife. The last correspondence had been her letter of affirmation.
He could admit he’d been somewhat skeptical of the process when he’d first looked into doing it.
But it had worked out well for several men in Summit County that he’d gotten to know, and he’d decided it was likely the best—and perhaps only—way of finding a wife in the West, where there was a shortage of marriageable women.
Eileen had seemed like a genuinely nice person from her letters.
She’d claimed to love family and wanted a large one of her own.
She’d said she loved animals, that she’d grown up with a few livestock.
And she was proficient in taking care of a home because her work as a domestic had prepared her well for being a wife.
They hadn’t exchanged pictures. He hadn’t brought any photographs of himself along in his move to Colorado, and she’d claimed she’d never had her picture taken. But she’d described herself as having brown hair and eyes, being average in height and weight, and having features that were plain.
Obviously a person’s appearance was subjective. What might be plain to somebody could very well be beautiful to someone else. However, if she was truly as beautiful as Jeremy described, then she had to know she wasn’t plain.
Did that mean she’d lied about her looks? If she hadn’t been honest about her appearance, were there other things she might have exaggerated?
The thought unsettled Thatcher. He’d known the risk involved in putting an advertisement out there for a wife.
He’d heard the stories of false descriptions that made people sound better than they really were.
He’d even heard stories about people using the advertisements as a way to scam others out of money.
Of course, Eileen wouldn’t be able to scam him for money since he didn’t have much.
He never had the heart to require payments, even though he had fees for his services.
If someone was having a hard time, he always told them to pay him whenever they could.
Others paid him in whatever means they had—food or grain or a chicken.
Thatcher never minded, though. He hadn’t become a veterinarian to make money. He’d done it because he loved animals.
As he and Jeremy started through town, several fellows on the street congratulated him on his upcoming nuptials.
Thatcher wasn’t surprised at how many people already knew about his bride’s arrival and the wedding.
Most people knew he’d been waiting for her, mainly because he was so eager and had talked about it with anyone who would listen.
Yes, he had a big mouth. He talked about everything. But for good or bad, that’s just the way he was.
When they reached the opposite side of town and neared Vance Hotel, a crowd was milling around outside. At the sight of him, people began to cheer and clap and whistle.
As he dismounted, men slapped his back and congratulated him. Through it all, his grin only got bigger, and his heart swelled with affection for this community that had welcomed him in as one of their own.
“She’s waiting inside for you,” said Mr. Vance, the owner of the inn, as he held the door open. A short man with a rotund stomach, he was known for his good cooking. “Gave her a table and a warm meal to tide her over until you got here.”
“I’m obliged.” Thatcher followed him through the doorway and swiped off his hat.
The dining room was just as congested as the outside, with people standing around and all the tables and chairs full.
He searched for a woman who met Eileen’s description and landed upon a table at the center, where Weston Oakley and his wife Serena were sitting with their little tyke and baby.
Eileen was positioned so that he couldn’t really see her, just her back and some long strands of hair hanging loose while others were fashionably coiled.
She had slender shoulders and a graceful poise.
Seeing just this part of her was enough for him to realize that Jeremy was right. Eileen was a real beauty. He didn’t have to see her face to know that.
The room began to quiet, and all attention swung to where he stood, just inside the door next to Mr. Vance. Others were crowding behind him, threatening to push him forward.
As silence settled, Eileen placed her fork upon her plate, picked up her napkin and blotted her mouth, then stiffened her shoulders, as though bracing herself to turn around and meet him. What would she think? Would he meet her expectations?
He combed his fingers through his loose hair, hoping to rid himself of a hat ring and appear presentable.
Eileen seemed to be exchanging silent communication with Weston and Serena. Thatcher didn’t know them well, since they lived in Fairplay. But he had seen them one other time when they’d made the journey up to the High Country Ranch to visit with family.
With a nod from Serena, Eileen pushed back from the table, then slowly rose to her feet. She had on a simple long blue calico skirt paired with a white blouse. She hesitated a moment, then pivoted.
He drew in a sharp breath. From her light brown hair to the tips of her boots, she was dream-worthy.
Her face was round with the hint of dimples in her cheeks even though she wasn’t smiling.
She had generous lips and wide eyes that had more green and gold to them than the brown she’d described, or maybe they only appeared to shift colors due to the lighting.
Whatever the case, neither her letters nor Jeremy’s description had prepared Thatcher for how stunning she was, and all he could do was stare at her like an idiot.
She was taking him in too, scanning him from his hatless head, all the way down his dark-blue suit to his shiny black dress shoes. As she finished, she lifted her gaze back to his face, and her eyes connected with his.
What did she think of him? Was he what she’d pictured and expected? If so, that made one of them.
Her eyes didn’t reveal anything, and neither did her expression. If she was disappointed or relieved, he couldn’t tell.
Whatever the case, he had to say something to break the awkward silence that had settled over the room. “Welcome to Breckenridge.”
“Thank you.” Her voice didn’t contain any hesitation. “After the snow delayed me in Fairplay, I wasn’t sure I’d make it.”
“You’ve been in Fairplay?”
“I was told the passes out of Denver were too dangerous with the ice and snow, but that the Ute Pass out of Colorado Springs was still open.”
If she’d come in from the southerly direction, then it made sense that she’d ended up stranded in Fairplay.
“I’d still be in Fairplay if not for Weston and Serena.” She offered the couple a grateful smile.
The smile brought out her dimples even more. But even with the smile, her expression contained a reservation and seriousness that told him her life hadn’t been easy and that she didn’t smile often.
“Well, I’m glad you made it.”
“Glad is an understatement,” called a man on the far side of the room. “He’s ecstatic.”
Chuckles broke out, and someone from behind slapped his back. Of course everyone would tease him about his eagerness for his bride and embarrass him to no end. But he deserved it.
He chuckled himself as he traded a nudge of elbows with Jeremy, who was standing beside him.
“Let’s get this wedding started,” shouted someone else from outside. Several more men echoed the call.
Thatcher grinned. “Nothing like getting right to the point.”
An older man sitting at a nearby table chortled. “You better marry her before someone steals her away from you.”
Would that really happen? Thatcher didn’t think anyone else in the community would make a claim on Eileen. But maybe it was for the best to marry her tonight, before some other fellow tried to charm her or she had the chance to change her mind.
“The reverend’s already here.” Mr. Vance nodded to Reverend Livingston, in the clerical collar and black suit, who was standing near the hearth, his prayer book in hand.
The diminutive man was speaking quietly with an older fellow and abruptly ended his conversation. “Are we ready to begin?”
“Sure, why not—” Thatcher stopped short at the sight of Eileen’s trembling hand at the neckline of her blouse.
Catching his look, she quickly tucked her hands behind her back, out of sight. She was obviously feeling some trepidation.
He took a step toward her, then stopped. “If you’re not ready, we can wait.”
She hesitated.
“Really,” he insisted. “I don’t want to rush you.”