Chapter Seven
Josie adjusted her collar and straightened her mother’s cameo brooch pinned against her bosom before meeting Travis’s eyes.
She took his hand, her bare palm fitting against his as he assisted her down from the wagon.
The wooden church building stood before them, the small steeple reaching towards the heavens.
The exterior that seemed to have once been painted white had mostly faded, leaving the natural wood exposed and weathered, as if no one had touched it with a brush in ages.
A parsonage stood beside it, the exterior painted gray and the shutters a robin-egg blue.
Rose and hydrangea bushes sprouted around the outside and potted ferns hung from the porch’s ceiling.
As Josie stepped onto the ground, her insides churned and breath hitched softly. Her limbs trembled as each moment passed. In a matter of minutes, she’d be a married woman again—and to another stranger.
Would this time be different?
Could she truly find contentment with Travis and his children?
Josie looked down at her plain button-down sage-green dress. It didn’t hold a candle to her first wedding gown, an ivory gown of English lace that once belonged to her mother. The sage green dress would have to do; she wasn’t expecting anything fancy for a ceremony, anyway.
She recalled her first wedding day, the dress—though breath-takingly beautiful—itching her skin like it were yesterday.
After mourning her losses for months, looking in the mirror had given her a new feeling of confidence and beauty.
Growing up, Josie always felt slightly awkward with her long legs, flat chest, and fair complexion, but seeing herself as a bride, she had never felt more beautiful.
Holding onto her father’s arm, she had been terrified with all the eyes on her.
However, those eyes should have been the least of her worries.
Nothing had been more frightening than the man standing before her.
But what could one expect from an innocent sixteen-year-old?
Her past self had been a sweet, naive girl, hardly knowing what to expect in a marriage, other than carrying on a man’s last name.
Josie closed her eyes and shook away the memory, exhaling softly.
This marriage would be different—being only for the children’s benefits—but she couldn’t help but remember Aunt Tia’s advice when it came down to her own child.
Just the thought sent a shiver crawling up her spine.
Worry about it tonight. This moment is about these four children. Think of those poor, motherless dears.
“Josie!”
Josie opened her eyes, seeing the smiling Lillian holding a bouquet of pink, purple, and blue wildflowers.
“I made this for you.”
Josie grinned as she took the child’s precious gift. She brought the flowers close to her face, smelling the sweet fragrance. “Thank you, Lillian.”
Aunt Polly smiled and extended her free hand that wasn’t holding Gideon. “Come along, Lillian. Let’s go inside and get situated.”
Lillian started to follow her aunt but swiftly turned, wrapping her arms around Josie’s legs. Josie stiffened for a moment, caught off guard, before gently returning the embrace.
“I can’t wait for you to be my new ma.”
The words from Lillian’s mouth made Josie’s heart flutter.
Knowing how excited the child was soothed her jittery nerves.
Yet as Josie glanced up and met the eyes of her soon-to-be husband, a lump formed in her throat.
She forced a smile, hoping Travis wouldn’t see through her facade.
He couldn’t know how anxious she truly was; if he did, he might delay the wedding—or worse, send her back.
Going back wasn’t an option. Her child’s future depended on this man.
“Are you ready?” Travis asked. The man’s hair was slicked back like it had been when they first met. Josie had noticed the day before how fast his dark stubble grew back, and his face was now smooth again.
Josie nodded, forcing herself to suppress the screams in her mind, begging her to run.
As she walked beside Travis, she kept a careful distance, her grip tightening around the trembling bouquet in her hands.
Each step seemed heavy, and she forced herself to breathe calmer as Travis opened the door.
Inside, the children and Aunt Polly sat in the front pew, along with two boys around Ivy’s age.
In the center aisle stood a man in a suit alongside a woman in a blue cotton dress.
The woman’s caramel-brown hair was pulled up with winglets framing her face, making Josie self-conscious about her hair that hung loose past her waist. Her hands couldn’t keep steady that morning, making it impossible to pull her hair back into a proper updo.
Travis pointed ahead. “Miss Callahan, meet Reverend Levingston and his wife.”
The woman smiled and embraced Josie. “It’s so nice to meet you, Miss Callahan.”
“Please, call me Josie.” She pressed her lips together, forming a smile.
Mrs. Levingston pulled away. “Then you must call me Rose.”
Their moment was cut short when Reverend Levingston cleared his throat, patting his Bible. “Shall we begin?”
Rose planted a kiss on Josie’s cheek and squeezed her hands. “May God bless you both.”
Josie’s legs shook as she took the steps towards Travis and Reverend Levingston.
However, when she glanced into Travis’ face, she realized she wasn’t alone in her feelings.
Sweat glistened on Travis’s forehead, just like that day on a hot afternoon, except this time they were indoors.
The thick walls blocked a cool breeze that Josie longed to flow through the closed windows.
Josie held her bouquet instead of taking Travis’s hands.
Just the thought of touching him at the altar reminded her of holding the hands of a man twenty-five years her senior, his face marked by a deep scar that ran from his right eye down to his cheek.
Before she met Marcus, she imagined him having a soft and gentle demeanor beneath that rugged facade.
But she had been so wrong. Her head had been poisoned by romantic poetry nonsense.
She knew nothing of the world nor the true evil that happened during war.
Josie remained at home, sheltered by her mother, who instructed her never to read those dirty newspapers.
That innocence ended when she fought in a war of her own every day in what was supposed to be her safe place, her home with a man who vowed to be her loving husband.
Josie kept her eyes downcast as Reverend Levingston began with a few Scriptures, unable to meet Travis’s gaze any longer.
Shame fell over her like a heavy quilt, reminding her she was unworthy to stand there before Travis and God.
Travis had no idea who he was really marrying.
He believed he was marrying a young, untouched woman from North Carolina who longed for a family of her own.
That was a lie.
The truth would be impossible to hide when the baby arrived, healthy and full-term. Then he would know. And when he did, he’d lose all respect for her.
Josie bit her bottom lip. Maybe times were different.
She didn’t like what she was doing, but she’d do it all for his convenience and her own.
She’d hold up her end of the bargain, becoming a mother to Travis’s children while he provided for her and the child she carried.
Bumps rose on her arms. But it’s still deception.
“You may join hands while you say your vows,” Reverend Levingston said.
Josie’s breath caught in her throat, exiting her thoughts. She had no idea what the reverend said beforehand, but those words—words about touch—brought her out of her little world and into reality. What are you doing, Josie? You’re making the same mistake. You hypocrite.
She closed her eyes. Her lungs contracted, her heart punching her ribcage.
You must do this, Josie. Forget about your fears.
Think of your child. Josie tried her best to soothe her nerves, but a small hand touched hers.
Startled, she looked down to see Ivy gently reaching for her bouquet.
Josie managed a smile, her tension easing slightly.
“Thank you,” Josie whispered. Ivy returned the smile, a faint version.
Josie lifted her chin, meeting Travis’s gaze.
Slowly, his arms rose from his sides then extended towards Josie’s.
His touch sent a shiver through her, but she forced herself to endure it, aware of the little ones watching from the front pew.
She couldn’t let Travis see how broken she truly was.
As his damp fingers curled around hers, she noticed the slight flush of embarrassment on his face. He was nervous too.
Despite her fright, Josie forced out the words, “I do.” She didn’t want to say them, but she had no choice.
When Travis spoke, she noticed a slight stutter in his voice, a small tremor that assured her he was just as uncertain.
This wasn’t about them—it was about their duty to the children, born and unborn.
Travis pulled out a gold ring from his pocket. Josie’s eyes widened. Gold? Travis was full of surprises. He slipped it around her cold, trembling finger. As Josie watched him, his lips pressed thinly together, as though he was fighting back tears.
“I now pronounce you husband and wife. Travis, you may kiss the bride.”
The thought of the kiss made Josie’s stomach churn.
Holding his hands had already been too much, and now this?
She could sense Travis’s discomfort as well; he hesitated, clearly unsure.
Instead of forcing a kiss on her lips, he leaned in and placed a quick kiss on her cheek.
At her first wedding, Josie hadn’t been given a choice—neither with the kiss nor with what came after.
Now, letting out a steady breath, she realized that this time, maybe things could be different.
The children ran towards them, and Lillian hugged Josie at her feet. “I love you so much, Josie.”