Bartered Bride Romance Collection (19 page)

Charity heard the crunch of boots and tried to stop crying. “Aww, honey-gal,” a velvety voice crooned before she had a chance to wipe away the tears.

Ethan! I can’t bear to have him see me like this
. She needed time to regain a semblance of composure. How could she do it? She was committed to helping him with the children for the rest of the trip, but knowing he didn’t want her or love her was too painful. Another sob welled up.

He knelt beside her and made a soft hushing sound as he pulled her into his arms. For an instant, everything within her rebelled. Charity tried to push him back and scramble away, but he held her fast. “I’m not letting go of you, honey-gal. Not now. Not ever.”

She couldn’t believe he’d said that. Charity rested her forehead on his shoulder and still cried. He pressed his lips to her hair and stroked her arm and back.

“I’ve been a fool, Charity. I’ve let my pride and your possessions come between us instead of seeking the truth. The truth is, you are one of the sweetest gifts God ever gave me. I got to thinking last night. If God sees the sparrow fall and can count the hairs on my head, He certainly counted the buttons on your string. He knew I was carving that button. He knew the desire of my heart, too. I’d been fighting it for weeks—wanting you as my wife, but I kept telling myself and anyone else who asked that I wasn’t worthy of you. You’re a wealthy woman—”

She looked up at him with aching eyes. “You’re the rich one, Ethan. All of the silver and gold in the world wouldn’t ever buy me a f–family.” Her voice cracked. “I—I have nothing.”

“Sweetheart, that’s where you’re wrong. Last night you called Cricket your little girl.” She gave him a blank look, so he nodded to punctuate his words. “Yes, you did. You said, ‘I can’t leave my little girl.’ That said it all, Charity. In our hearts, we’ve blended until we’re already a family. The only thing missing is a ring on your finger to make it official.”

He’d brought her shawl. He reached to the side and unfolded it to reveal her button string. “I’m no good at stitching.” He chuckled. “You knew that, seeing the sorry way I’d tried to mend my own clothes before you came along. I couldn’t wait, though. Last night I took that button off of the wagon bonnet and secured it to your string. It’s the thousandth, Charity Davis. I know it full well, and I’m staking my claim. I’d best warn you I knotted this button on so tight it would take a twenty-mule team to pull it off. I’m giving you my heart with that button, and you’d better know it’s given with all the love God put in my heart for you.”

He pressed his lips to her temple.

“I love you, honey. I need your sweetness and comfort. I want to be your strength and protection. Maybe things haven’t started out like a storybook, but that doesn’t mean they haven’t been arranged for us by the hand of the Almighty. I love you. Don’t you love me?”

“Oh, Ethan, I was so scared. I never wanted to give the button back in the first place! That night I realized I’d lost my heart to you.”

He slipped her button string around her neck. “Then, Miss Charity Davis, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”

“Ethan Cole, I love you. Nothing would make me happier.”

He dipped his head. “Let’s seal it with a kiss and a prayer.”

With the resiliency of youth, Cricket recovered quickly. After Charity was sure all was well, she dug to the very bottom of her trunk and brought out the white satin Mama had brought along. Ethan would have been satisfied for the wagon train captain to wed them straight away, but he said she deserved the wedding of her dreams. According to their scout, they had ten days until they made it through The Dalles and reached the Willamette Valley. There was a church at the end of the trail, and Charity was determined to have a bridal gown done by then.

“Ethan, you may as well go on over and share the fire with Rob,” Banner said. “We ladies are fixin’ to help Charity with her finery. Everyone knows a man’s not allowed to see it till the wedding day, so you can just resign yourself to being kicked out of the way for the next week or so.”

Charity giggled as he winked and paced off. Soon Banner, Myrtle, Mary, and Gracie helped her spread the bonnet she’d saved from her wagon on the ground to protect her satin. When they unrolled the bolt, Charity gasped. Mama hadn’t just packed the satin—she’d included elegant lace and packets of seed pearls and minute, crystal beads.

Myrtle oohed and aahed. Banner’s brows knit for a moment. “I can’t imagine why she didn’t just bring her gown for you. Certainly you were both of a size that would have made it possible.”

Charity smiled. “Mama was the middle of three daughters. Though she wore the gown, according to family tradition, it belonged to the firstborn daughter.”

Gracie said, “Then it’s time to start a gown for a new family. Ladies, it’s time to gild our lily. Let’s get busy.” They measured, talked, snipped, and pinned. True friends that they were, they worked afternoon and evening with her until the last stitch was done.

The gown featured a tightly fitted bodice that ended in a downward point. Fabric swagged from side seam to side seam in order to form horizontal scallops down to the floor, and the back draped over a bustle. Closely fitted sleeves hugged her arms and came to a traditional medieval point to call attention to her slender finger where Ethan would place the wedding ring. Lace and seed pearls adorned the entire bodice then edged the hem and sleeves.

“Your mama’s veil is your something old, and this gown is your something new,” Banner said as she and Charity hid the completed gown away from Ethan’s sight. “I made a garter for your something blue. Have you borrowed anything yet?”

Charity smiled. “I’m borrowing Ethan’s children, but I’m not giving them back. I’m keeping them as my own forever.”

At the end of the trail, everyone camped for the night. The next day, after folks had a chance to do laundry and visit the bathhouse, they all met at the church. Cricket, dressed in a pretty little sky-blue frock Charity made for her, skipped down the aisle, carrying Charity’s beloved Bible. She took her place beside her daddy.

Ethan forgot to breathe when he saw Tad escort Charity down the aisle. Her gown sparkled, shimmered, and flowed like a dream. Through her mama’s veil, he could see her smile. As she drew closer, his smile broadened. Instead of ribbons, her beloved button string draped around and hung from the bouquet.

Epilogue

M
a, you’d best better get in here,” Tad hollered. “Cricket’s getting into your fancy talcum powder and making a mess!”

“Cricket!” Charity’s feet pattered on the hardwood floor of the beautiful home Ethan had built for them. “Mama didn’t want you to get messy! We’re supposed to surprise your papa with the anniversary cake as soon as he gets home!”

Ethan stood behind his children. He rested a hand on each of them. Tad hadn’t lied one bit. Cricket had gotten into the violet talcum he’d gotten Charity for Christmas. The whole bedroom smelled like a flower garden. Hopefully, his wife would be so taken with this next gift, she’d ignore that misbehavior.

The crystal doorknob turned, and they all held their breath. Charity entered the room and stopped cold. “Ethan! When did you get home?”

“While Tad had you out in the garden.”

“Can we say it now?” Cricket whispered loudly.

“Yes.”

“Surprise!” Ethan, Tad, and Cricket exclaimed in unison. They moved to the side, revealing the wedding chest he’d been making in secret. The look on Charity’s face made all of his work worthwhile.

“Oh, Ethan! It’s lovely! Oh, it matches!”

He rocked back on his heels and proudly gazed down at the front panel of the piece. He’d sent back East just to get walnut for it. He’d used the last of his own money to do it, too. “Yup. I traced the highboy and headboard to be sure the ribbon was just right.”

She wound her arms around him. “I was thinking this matched the button you gave me. It’s beautiful, Ethan. Thank you.”

She kissed him, and Tad groaned. “Can we please have the cake now?”

“Go ahead and cut it.” Charity held Ethan back while the kids dashed to the kitchen.

“You can keep your wedding gown inside, honey-gal. I lined it all with cedar. Look.” He opened the lid. Charity’s laughter pleased him. Inside the lid, he’d wood-burned a design of a string of buttons. “It took me a while, but this is my groom’s gift to you.”

“I have a surprise for you, too.” She took his hand and placed it on her tummy. “How about if the chest becomes a family heirloom?”

A Letter from the Bride

T
o my dear daughters, granddaughters, and all future brides, I thought it would be a wonderful tradition for each bride to write a little note and leave a legacy for those who come after her. How I wish my own mother had lived to see my wedding day and been present to share her wisdom!

I make no pretense at being wise, but God is. The Bible says we can ask for wisdom, and God will honor our request. As you consider marriage, first seek God’s will and ask Him to direct your heart. Do not hasten to take your vows. Pause and reflect before you take such a momentous step, and be sure your mate honors God. A marriage is not just between a man and a woman—it is a holy union which must include the Lord to flourish
.

Ethan was God’s gift to me. His patience, strength, and companionship were like a balm to my grief. We learned to work together and rely on one another until respect and affection sparked. Love came softly and grew in our hearts. How I thank God for bringing us together and blessing our union!

Though hardships test us and extraordinary things thrill us, life is made up of mundane days. Love each other in the little, commonplace matters of life to strengthen your marriage, or it will wither from neglect. Appreciate what you have, and forgive as freely as you laugh
.

My darlings, my prayer is for you to make wise decisions of the heart—first in devoting your spirit to the Lord, then in giving your hand to a man. May each of you be blessed with a godly mate and know the joy of growing close together and growing old with him
.

With love, hope, and prayers,
Charity Davis Cole

THE WEDDING WAGON

by Cathy Marie Hake