Chapter Seven
Everything happened so quickly that Ruth scarcely had time to think.
Within an hour, the sun had begun its descent toward the western horizon, casting the Texas countryside in shades of gold and amber.
The heat of the day lingered in the air, though a gentle breeze had finally begun stirring the leaves of the oak trees surrounding the ranch house.
Only that afternoon, she had been standing on Henry Foster’s porch, wondering whether she would be turned away.
Now, she was sitting beside him in a wagon as they traveled into town to be married.
The circumstances were almost unreal and she wasn’t sure if the rush was because Henry was afraid he might change his mind.
She, of course, didn’t want him to change his mind. Did she?
Ruth clasped her hands tightly in her lap. Beside her, Henry held the reins. Neither of them had spoken much since leaving the ranch and the silence simply felt too large to cross.
The wagon rolled steadily along the dusty road toward Weatherford. Grasshoppers sprang from the roadside grasses as they passed. The scent of warm earth and sun-dried vegetation drifted on the evening breeze. In the distance, cattle grazed beneath a sky that seemed impossibly wide.
Lola sat beside James and his wife, Hannah, in a second wagon following behind. Every now and then Ruth glanced over her shoulder. The little girl appeared watchful. As though she were waiting to see what all of this would mean. Truthfully, Ruth wondered the same thing.
The town came into view just as the first lanterns were being lit along the main street.
Weatherford was quiet at this hour. Most businesses were closing for the evening.
Merchants swept storefronts while wagons rattled homeward, carrying families from town.
Somewhere nearby, a blacksmith’s hammer rang against metal.
Instead of heading toward the church, Henry guided the wagon onto a side street lined with modest homes. James had explained the reason earlier. Pastor Luke’s house would be simpler. The pastor’s wife had passed away years ago, and he lived alone in a small white cottage near the church grounds.
As they got closer, the knots in Ruth’s stomach tightened. When they arrived, a warm light glowed from the front windows. Pastor Luke himself opened the door and for a moment the elderly minister simply stared. Then, his eyebrows rose nearly to his hairline.
“Well.” His gaze shifted from Henry to Ruth and back again. “To what do I owe this unexpected visit?”
“Henry’s gettin’ hitched,” James said, clapping him on the shoulder. Pastor Luke’s eyes widened as if expecting someone to tell him it was a joke.
“Will you marry us, Pastor?” Henry asked. “I know it’s short notice.”
The older man said nothing for a moment and then he chuckled softly. “I suppose you’d better come inside.” As they did, Pastor Luke turned to them again. “I’d like a word with Henry and his, uh, intended,” he said. “The rest of you can make yourselves at home.”
Ruth and Henry followed him into a small room off the living room.
The study was cozy and well lived-in. Books lined the walls from floor to ceiling.
A small fire crackled softly in the hearth despite the lingering summer warmth.
Lamplight illuminated a large wooden desk covered in neatly stacked papers and several well-worn Bibles.
“Take a seat, please,” he offered. They did, and Pastor Luke settled into a chair opposite them. For several moments he simply looked at them. “Now, tell me what is going on?” he asked kindly
Henry shifted in his chair and Ruth suddenly became fascinated by the edge of the rug. Finally, he cleared his throat. “My cousin ordered me a wife.”
Pastor Luke blinked. “I’m sorry?”
Henry began to explain everything that had happened. By the time he finished, Pastor Luke had removed his spectacles and was rubbing the bridge of his nose. “That cousin of yours.” The pastor shook his head slowly. “He’s always had more brains than sense.” He leaned back in his chair. “And now?”
“The ranch needs help,” Henry sighed. “I’ve been trying to manage everything myself.”
The pastor nodded. “I know.”
Henry glanced toward the window. “I can’t keep doing it forever.”
The admission seemed to cost him something.
Ruth sensed it immediately. This was not a man accustomed to confessing weakness.
But another thought dawned on her. Was she really ready for all of this?
She had just escaped a life of hardship and now she was to be the mother of a child she didn’t know?
And married to a man who didn’t want her, all the while pretending to be another woman.
It all felt like too much. Then again, what choice did she have? To get up and walk away now? Where would she go? What would she do?
Ruth exhaled slowly. No, she had come this far, she could not change her mind now. She had to have faith, and to believe that this was the path that the Lord wanted for her. He would protect her and give her strength. He would guide her through this new life and everything would be okay.
“The child needs more than she’s getting from me.” Henry’s voice had grown quieter. “Lola deserves a proper family.”
The room fell silent as Pastor Luke studied him for a long moment and Ruth saw that there was affection in the old man’s gaze and perhaps a little sadness.
“That sounds less like a man looking for a wife,” he said gently, “and more like a man trying to care for his niece.”
Henry gave a short nod. “Maybe.”
Then the Pastor’s attention shifted to Ruth and immediately her stomach tightened. “And what about you, my dear?”
Ruth clasped her hands together. “What would you like to know?”
Pastor Luke’s smile deepened. “A great many things,” he said. “But let’s begin with your name.”
The question struck with surprising force and for a moment, Ruth simply stared at him.
The room seemed suddenly smaller and the silver cross beneath her collar felt heavy against her skin.
Everything in her urged her to tell the truth.
To say, my name is Ruth Turner. But she couldn’t.
Not now. If she told the truth, Henry would never go through with it, and she would be cast aside.
She lowered her gaze. “Nora Smith.”
Pastor Luke nodded, completely unsuspecting and the guilt that followed was immediate. He reached for a sheet of paper on his desk. “And Miss Smith, do you wish to marry Henry Foster?”
Ruth looked across at Henry, who sat stiffly in his chair, hat resting on one knee. “Yes.”
Pastor Luke watched her carefully. “Are you certain?”
Ruth thought of the empty future waiting if she left. The uncertainty and the danger.
Then she thought of the ranch and the little girl. Of the idea that maybe she might belong somewhere. “Yes,” she said softly.
The pastor sat quietly for several moments; the ticking of a clock echoed faintly from the hallway.
Outside, a night breeze rustled through the trees.
At last, he folded his hands. “This is certainly not how I would recommend most people begin a marriage.” A hint of humor softened the observation.
“Ordinarily, we’d obtain the license first.” He glanced toward the darkened window.
“Unfortunately, Mr. Thompson locked the clerk’s office hours ago. ”
The pastor rose from his chair. “We’ll have to take care of the legal formalities tomorrow,” he continued. “The important thing tonight,” he said gently, “is your commitment before God.”
Ruth swallowed, a lump rising in her throat. Pastor Luke crossed the room. After a moment, Henry led the way and Ruth followed.
“Well?” James asked.
“You are just lucky things worked out, young man,” Pastor Luke chided.
James smiled sheepishly as Pastor Luke ushered everyone into the parlor. Pastor Luke then moved to the front of the room. “Shall we begin?”
The question immediately returned every ounce of her nervousness and Ruth’s stomach tightened. This is really happening.
Across the room, Henry held his hat against his chest. The lamplight illuminated his features. The strong line of his jaw and seriousness in his green eyes. The faint shadow of exhaustion.
He looked just as uncomfortable as she felt and, oddly, that helped. James and his wife took their places nearby, Lola stood quietly beside them. The child hadn’t spoken since arriving, but her gaze remained fixed upon Ruth. Not unfriendly, merely uncertain. Ruth understood the feeling.
Pastor Luke cleared his throat and Ruth turned her attention back to him.
He stood before them with his Bible open in weathered hands.
Lamplight flickered softly across the room, casting warm shadows against the walls.
Outside, evening had settled over Weatherford, and the distant chirping of crickets drifted through the open window.
The old pastor looked from Henry to Ruth, his expression thoughtful.
“I’ve lived long enough on this Earth to know that God doesn’t always work according to our plans.
” The smile softened. “Sometimes, He leads us down roads we never intended to travel. Roads that seem uncertain at first. Roads we may even resist,” Pastor Luke continued.
“The success of a marriage isn’t measured by how it begins.
It is measured by what two people choose to build together afterward. ”
Ruth swallowed. The words struck deeper than the pastor could possibly know, because her marriage was about to begin with a lie. And yet, she desperately wanted the second part to be true.
The pastor rested one hand atop his Bible.
“Scripture tells us that a cord of three strands is not quickly broken.” His eyes moved between them.
“A husband. A wife. And God at the center,” he continued.
“And I pray that your home will be built upon that foundation. Not merely affection or convenience, but faith. Faith that endures through hardship. Faith that grows through trials. Faith that reminds us we never carry our burdens alone.”