Chapter Six
Alexandra jumped when the knock on her door came.
She had told herself a dozen times that she was ready, and that this was a choice that would serve her in the long run.
What she had not managed was to stop her hands shaking, or to stop expecting some other wedding day, the one she had been quietly furnishing for years.
She took a deep, steadying breath before opening the door. Her aunt stood there, her expression shifting between apprehensive and sentimental. She stepped back to study Alexandra, one hand on her heart.
“Oh, my dear girl,” she murmured. “I never—” She stopped herself. “You look lovely,” she finished.
Alexandra looked down at herself, unsure she believed it.
She was wearing her best dress, a dusty gray silk faille that shaded to mauve.
The color wasn’t striking, but it was trimmed with pleats at the arms and along the V-shaped neckline, and it boasted a fashionable bustle with swags of fabric at the back.
Her hair was swept up and pinned into a voluminous chignon, the rest of it left to fall down her back in a waterfall of ringlets. Normally disdainful of it, she found herself grateful this once that it was thick and curly enough to do without the rats and puffs a formal coiffure otherwise demanded.
“Thank you,” she said. “Is everyone ready? I can go—”
Her aunt held up a hand, waylaying her. From behind her back, she withdrew a veil, carefully coiled.
It was fastened to a wire headpiece that was wreathed in silk flowers.
The veil itself was a cool white, which flowed in a gauzy sweep from the back.
The flowers were shades of purple and pink, coordinating with her dress.
“Oh, Aunt,” Alexandra breathed. She reached out to touch the veil, then pulled her hands back. “Is that for me?”
“Well, I don’t expect it’s for the groom,” Lisa said with a smile. “I daresay it wouldn’t suit his coloring.”
Alexandra let out a laugh that was precariously close to a sob. She took another deep breath and allowed her aunt to pin the veil to her head.
“There,” Lisa said. “Pretty as a picture.” She took Alexandra by the shoulders, ducking her head a little to look her directly in the eye. “Are you ready?”
Alexandra inhaled, then nodded. She wasn’t really sure she was ready, but she didn’t expect she’d find out by standing about in the little room she’d been afforded.
She’d dreamed of romance once and thought she had it, and that had ended in disaster. She wished herself immune to such flights, but she wasn’t. Standing in a ranch house on the other side of the country from everything she’d ever known was like a splash of cold water in the face.
Her aunt offered her elbow, which Alexandra took to steady herself. She exited her room, walking slowly through the house and out front to where everyone else was waiting.
The children had been wrangled into clean clothing and all but held down by Lisa for a brisk scrubbing—Alexandra had heard their complaints all morning on the subject. They were already piled into the back of the wagon, with matching surly expressions on their faces.
A man she didn’t know was standing by the wagon, dressed in dark gray trousers and a morning coat that had seen better days.
He had a mustache with curly ends and bright blue eyes.
He wasn’t a particularly large man, especially next to Mr. Rawlins, but he had a bouncy sort of energy that made Alexandra smile.
He’s like one of those friendly dogs the society ladies used to walk in the park, she thought bemusedly.
The man bounded forward, seizing Alexandra by the hand and shaking it so hard that he nearly dislodged her veil.
“Oh, Miss, it really is a pleasure to meet you,” he said, pumping her hand. “You’re a welcome addition to our operation, a real welcome.”
“Thank you, Mr.…” she asked, putting a hand to steady her hair.
“Oh! I’m Byrne, Antony Byrne,” he said, reaching up and tipping his buff-colored hat to her. “I apologize I wasn’t there to greet you properly last night. I’m the foreman of the Two Dog.”
“Well, you’re here now,” Alexandra said with a smile, which Mr. Byrne returned. “This is my aunt, Lisa Hampshire.”
Lisa dipped her head, and Mr. Byrne touched his hat again. “Ma’am,” he said politely.
“It’s ‘Miss’,” Lisa corrected.
Mr. Byrne’s smile brightened. “Another unmarried lady in town? That’ll cheer everyone considerably.”
Lisa regarded him coolly for a moment. Mr. Byrne, unchastened, offered her a hand up into the wagon. Alexandra did her best to hide a grin.
Mr. Rawlins, having been tending to the horses, came around the wagon at that moment. “Are you all just about ready? Preacher won’t wait for—” He paused, his eyes falling on Alexandra.
Her natural inclination was to look down modestly, channeling all of her nervousness into clasping her hands together. The wind picked up at that moment, warm from the desert, and caught her veil, lifting it. She hazarded a look at Mr. Rawlins.
He was still staring at her, his eyes so dark they were nearly black, wearing an expression like a man seeing something he had always known existed and never expected to be shown. Alexandra had seen that look on faces at Independence Hall and the Liberty Bell.
“You’re crushing my dress!” Bella complained loudly, shattering whatever spell had been cast over Mr. Rawlins.
“Hush it,” Mr. Rawlins snapped. “I won’t have any misbehaving in town, and I mean it.”
“Can we just go already?” Danny groaned, folding his arms over his chest.
“Here, Miss,” Mr. Byrne said, gallantly gathering up her veil so that she could hold it as she climbed into the wagon.
“Thank you, Mr. Byrne,” she said. She reached up to grasp the wagon, putting her foot on the wooden block that had been placed for them to climb up into the back.
A hand was lifted on her other side, and she took it gratefully, dangerously unbalanced as she negotiated bustle and veil and skirts up over the tailboard.
She leaned on it heavily, and it didn’t waver even a bit.
She found her way in and perched delicately on the edge of one of the wooden crates set out for them to sit on.
She turned back to thank Mr. Byrne and found that the hand that had braced her so ably belonged to Mr. Rawlins. She stared, but he had already gone to the front of the wagon and taken his place on the driver’s box.
Gingerly, she stretched the fingers of that hand inside their lace glove. The day was already blazing, and still it was warmer than the day.
***
Though it was meant to be a quiet affair, the appearance of what was so clearly a bride in the back of a wagon had attracted a following of curious townspeople. They trailed behind all the way to the church and cheered when Alexandra stepped down. She blushed and gave them shy smiles.
“Let’s get this over with,” Mr. Rawlins rumbled near her as he lifted the children down.
It was a hard but perhaps necessary reminder that this was an arrangement, nothing more. She stood still as her aunt helped to unfurl her veil, which made more than one of the female onlookers sigh wistfully.
“Don’t dawdle too long,” Mr. Rawlins said in Alexandra’s direction, not even looking at her properly.
“I’ll attempt to dawdle just the right amount,” she answered quietly, smiling gently for the benefit of the crowd.
Mr. Rawlins shot her a look, but her expression didn’t falter; she merely kept her soft smile in place. He swept his hat off and entered the church, ushering the children in front of him.
When he was inside, Alexandra heaved a sigh. Lisa, who had remained behind, took Alexandra by the arm. Her eyes searched Alexandra’s, a line of concern between her brows.
“Sometimes we don’t always know what we need,” she said cryptically. “Diamonds start out as lumps of unrefined, whitish rocks. It’s only after they’re cut and polished that we can see their true luster.”
“I… suppose that’s true, Aunt,” Alexandra answered, confused as to the point of this conversation.
“What I mean to say is that sometimes the good Lord sends us trials to help us become more like ourselves,” Lisa said. Her face grew distant for a moment. She stopped, took a breath, and took another one before she went on.
“Aunt? Are you all right?” Alexandra asked, touching her aunt’s shoulder.
“I’m fine,” Lisa insisted, brushing off her concern. “Now, let’s get you married.”
As they entered the cool shade of the church, Alexandra was surprised to see a few people dotted here and there in the pews. They regarded her curiously as she walked down the aisle, whispering to one another behind hands and fans as she passed.
“So, Rawlins’s really gone and got himself a bride then?”
“Seems that way. You heard about his brother, didn’t you?”
“Died, didn’t he?”
“Oh no, not just died—vanished without a trace.”
“Vanished? And left all those children?”
“Oh, yes. Young Mr. Rawlins has taken them all on. Wouldn’t accept a lick of help.”
Alexandra nearly craned her neck around to continue listening, then fixed her gaze ahead to where Mr. Rawlins stood waiting for the preacher.
Vanished. Not died. She had crossed the country to mind three children, and nobody had thought to tell her what became of their father, and she was learning it now, in a veil, from strangers.
The children were parked in the front pew, their legs not touching the ground.
They kicked their feet idly, with Gary even kneeling on the pew so that he could turn around backward to see what was happening.
As they waited for the preacher, Alexandra decided to take a chance. She slipped away from her aunt and stood in front of the children. She bent slightly, placing her hands on her knees.
“Would you boys like to be ushers? You could help ensure everyone takes a seat,” she said. “It’s a big responsibility.”
“What about me?” Bella asked, her mouth already semi-fixed into a pout.
“You could stand with me and be one of my bridesmaids,” Alexandra offered. She could see Bella considering, torn between the notion of being treated like an adult and her desire to be one of the boys with her brothers. Bella glanced at her older brother.
Danny folded his arms even tighter over his chest. “We’re not here to work for you. Not even sure why we had to come in the first place,” he said grumpily.
Bella, adopting Danny’s attitude, folded her arms and thrust her own chin out.
Alexandra sighed and straightened. She had no idea how to win them over.
It was tempting to let her face fall, but she refused to make her first appearance before the town a hangdog one.
She forced a smile and resolved to try again somewhere less public.
The preacher arrived then, in his black frock, a Bible in one hand.
She took her place at the altar across from Mr. Rawlins, who fixed his eyes on the preacher and didn’t look at her even once.
When it was time to exchange rings, he took her hand haphazardly and let it drop when he was done.
The ring was too big for her. She closed her fingers to keep it on and kept them closed through the rest of it.
Someone in the church sniffled, which perplexed Alexandra.
It was beyond her who could be moved to sentiment from this cold display.
She glanced around, trying to figure out who it was.
Movement at the back of the church caught her eye.
A man in black stood at the back; Alexandra wondered if there would be a funeral after their wedding.
He had a hungry look about him, with a thin face and lean, wiry limbs.
That would just figure, she sighed to herself.
The man in black stepped forward. His face was intent on Mr. Rawlins, as if studying him.
Beside her, Mr. Rawlins had gone still. Not the stillness of a man attending to his own wedding.
He did not turn his head, and he did not stop looking at the preacher, and something in his jaw was working.
The man’s gaze shifted to Alexandra and met hers for a moment.
She hurriedly turned back to the preacher, swallowing hard.
It wouldn’t do to be caught staring at another man the moment she was being married.
Don’t look, don’t look, she chanted to herself. Despite her best efforts, her eyes slid to the back of the church again. The man in black was still there, but now his face was twisted up into a half-grin that looked like it had nothing to do with the cheer of seeing a couple be married.
The man quickly pulled the brim of his hat down, obscuring his face. He slipped out the door, back onto the street, and was gone.
“I declare this man and woman to be married, before God and man,” the preacher intoned, shaking Alexandra back to the task at hand.
Without further ceremony, Aidan turned from the preacher for the first time and stared at Alexandra. She took a breath, ready to ask him who the man was, but he was already gone, rounding up the unruly children and herding them back up the aisle without so much as a backward glance at her.
Alexandra followed in their wake, feeling awkward and unsure. She was no longer the person she had been in the eyes of the law and the town, but she didn’t exactly feel like a wife, either.
It’s just nerves, she told herself.
It was not nerves. The man in black came back with her all the way to the ranch.