Chapter 38
A month had passed since they'd come down from the ridge, and the valley had become a place Theda knew as home.
She stood at the edge of the new cabin, watching Jem and Phineas work the fence line that would eventually mark the southern boundary of the homestead. The morning was warm, the grass thick and green.
Jem had been granted provisional release a few weeks back. The Army's account of his cooperation, his willingness to walk back into Ransom's camp alone, had weighed heavily in his favor with the territorial officials, more heavily than Theda had dared hope for.
He'd have to give time to the community and make up for his past, depending on how the sheriff thought it was fair. But for the moment, he was there, working land beside her brother, building something with his hands instead of waiting in a cell for someone else to decide his fate.
She watched him laugh at something Phineas said, the sound carrying. The last five months had changed her life in such a way that she never would have believed it before. They'd been there for each other in the most unexpected of ways.
She leaned against the doorframe of the cabin that still smelled of fresh-cut wood. Phineas said something, and Jem shook his head, grinning, and reached for another post.
It still surprised her sometimes how naturally they'd become friends. Phineas had been the first person to extend trust to a man with no memory and no history, and Jem had spent every day since trying to be worthy of that trust, in small ways and large ones.
Watching them now, she thought her brother had gained something out of it too.
A friend. Since Jem had saved her life, something changed between Jem and Phineas.
They were family. Little by little, she and Phineas had built up their family, one that they’d never expected to have after they lost her parents.
Theda blinked away tears of happiness. She'd found so much more out west than she’d ever hoped to.
---*---
Six weeks later, the morning of the wedding, the valley was full of wildflowers, and Theda stood at the edge of the meadow trying to steady her hands.
They were getting married, on the property that would one day grow into their home.
They’d decided it was best, so everyone who wanted to attend would be able to.
Della fussed with the last pin in her hair, murmuring something about how she'd never seen a bride glow quite the way Theda did, and Theda laughed despite the nerves humming through her chest.
Della had helped her sew a beautiful light blue dress, that fell around her in soft fluttering folds. Her hair was braided in a crown, full of wildflowers, and the ones she held matched.
It was a small gathering, just as she'd wanted. Della and Oren settled close enough now to ride over for the day along with Leland. Theda was expecting news of their wedding to come any day now. It was clear by the way Della and Leland acted around one another that they were in love.
The Crenshaw family had also come. Very easy, practically glowing. They'd done well for themselves, despite the challenges.
Nora and Edmund were chasing each other barefoot through the grass in their good clothes. A handful of new neighbors who'd taken to the valley alongside them were milling about, discussing the latest weather and planting season.
Reverend Jessup stood near the front, Bible in hand, his face already soft with the particular warmth he carried for occasions like this one.
And Jem. He’d always been Jem to her, and they hadn’t changed that, even when she’d discovered who he was.
He stood waiting at the far edge of the meadow in a clean shirt that strained slightly across shoulders too broad for whatever the tailor in town had managed to produce on short notice.
His hair had been combed back, though a piece of it had already fallen loose in the breeze.
He looked nervous in a way she found endearing, his hands clasped together in front of him, his eyes fixed on the path she would walk.
The crowd settled down as the Reverend Jessup called attention.
Theda’s stomach filled with butterflies, as her heart skipped.
Phineas appeared at her side and offered his arm.
“Ready?” he asked. He looked down at her, his expression full of happiness and affection.
“I think I've been ready for months,” she admitted. “Even when I didn't know it.
Phineas’ smile was so similar to how her father’s had been. It brought back all the feelings, and she wondered if her parents were looking down at her from above.
The grass brushed softly against her skirts as she walked, the wildflowers bending gently in the morning light, and she kept her eyes on Jem the entire way.
She watched his face change as she came closer.
Nervousness dissolved, replaced with excitement. They were about to start their life together, their future. She couldn't wait to be his wife, to share every waking moment together.
His eyes shone, and he didn't try to hide it, didn't glance away or compose himself. He simply watched her, like she was the only thing in the whole valley worth looking at. The way he looked at her made her feel as if they were the only two people in the world.
It was worth every mile of the trail. Every river crossing, every storm, every long and uncertain night, wondering if either of them would survive what was coming. It was worth all of it, just to see him look at her exactly like that, knowing how much he cared for her.
Phineas placed her hand in Jem’s and stepped back. A look of pride on his expression.
Reverend Jessup began to speak, his voice carrying warm and steady, but Theda barely heard the words. She was looking at Jem, and he was looking at her.
That was the future God had been carrying them toward all along.
And she couldn’t wait to find out what was ahead for them.
---*---
By the time the ceremony was over, the sun had dropped behind the far ridge, leaving the valley washed in gold and shadow.
Someone had dragged tables out into the open space near the house. Della had taken command, directing people toward benches and plates.
Everyone brought food to share, and the buzz of conversation was loud as people filled their plates and found places to sit. The new families from the valley mingled with the familiar faces from the trail.
The Crenshaw children darted between the tables until Ansel caught Edmund by the back of his shirt and steered him away from a pot of beans.
It seemed that he'd managed to negotiate an early release.
The law had been kind to him and taken into consideration the state his wife and children would be in without him.
A fiddle started somewhere near the edge of the gathering.
Oren pulled Della to her feet before she could protest, and whatever he was doing could only generously be called dancing.
Della laughed despite herself as he turned her too quickly beneath his arm.
Theda stood beside Jem near the fire, his hand warm around hers.
Phineas had stepped away from the tables with his cup in hand. He was watching the gathering with a quiet look on his face. Theda thought of the river crossings, the storms, the nights he had walked the camp long after everyone else had gone to sleep.
He had carried the weight of every wagon. The people who had trusted him hadn't misplaced that trust. They couldn't have asked for a better person to guide them.
His eyes found hers. Phineas lifted his cup slightly. She didn't have to hear him speak to know what he was trying to say. He was proud of her and happy for her.
Theda smiled and did the same.
Jem’s fingers tightened around hers. When she looked up at him, the firelight caught in his eyes.
“Have I told you how much I love you?”
“Yes,” Theda giggled, “Many times.”
“Then here is one more.” Jem kissed her lips, gentle and full of warmth.
The music softened, and the children were finally gathered into wagons to head home after a long afternoon of celebrating.
Their guests headed home. Theda watched them go; contentment filled her heart.
They walked back to the small home that would be theirs.
The cabin that Phineas and Jem had been working tirelessly on for the past six weeks.
The rooms were plain and still smelled faintly of fresh-cut wood.
Theda stood in the doorway for a moment, taking it all in.
Jem came up behind her and rested his hand on her waist.
“Home,” he said quietly. “Our home.”
She leaned back against him. “Home at last.” Finally, they were starting fresh with a canvas waiting for them to fill with memories, with their lives together. It was more than she could ever have hoped for.
The days that followed settled into work. Jem spent his mornings clearing the adjacent plot with Phineas’ permission, and one afternoon Theda found the two men standing in the grass with a length of rope stretched between them, disagreeing over the boundary line.
“It falls here,” Phineas said, planting one boot beside a stake.
Jem shook his head. “That puts the creek on your side.”
“It has always been on my side.” Phineas shrugged with a chuckle.
“It’s a creek, Phineas. It belongs to itself.” Jem sounded serious, but Theda could hear the humor in his voice.
Theda heard Phineas laugh before she reached them.
A letter arrived by post later that week. Jem stood at the table while he read it, his eyes moving slowly over the page. Theda watched his jaw tighten, then ease.
“What is it?” she asked.
He handed it to her.
The territorial hearing had concluded. Because of his help in bringing down the Redmond Gang, the testimony given by the wagon train, and the fact that no blood had been tied directly to him, the court had ruled time served for Jem.
There would be a period of good conduct under the local marshal’s supervision, but the matter was otherwise closed.
Theda looked up. Jem was still standing there, staring at nothing for a moment. Then he folded the letter carefully. He opened the drawer beside the table and placed it beneath the small bundle of pressed flowers she had saved from their first spring in the valley.
She watched him close the drawer. Then he looked at her, and the faintest smile touched his mouth. Theda crossed the room and took his hand.
She knew that Ransom would be in jail for a long time, possibly for the rest of his life, and she also knew that Jem struggled with guilt about his past on some days. But she was also grateful that they no longer had to look over their shoulders.
For the first time in a long while, nothing was chasing them.
THE END