Libbie: Bride of Arizona (American Mail-Order Bride 48) (7 page)

Her eyes widened even more. “Oh.” She looked downward, released her grip, and then draped the shirt over his hand and spun, scurrying from the room.

A chuckle escaped. Getting to know her better looked to be an easier proposition than he’d first thought. The petite woman allowed every emotion passing through her to display on her pretty face. In this brief exchange, he’d seen surprise change to shock, then shock switched to curiosity, and finally curiosity deepened to awareness. A look he was grateful to see.

Finishing with his quick clean-up, he rubbed a hand over his chin and heard the rasp of the day’s whiskers. No time for a shave. A couple of wipes of the wrung-out cloth smoothed his wavy hair into place, and he was set.

Fully clothed, he walked back into the kitchen and spotted the family waiting in a line near the front door.

His mother cradled the Stirling family bible in her arms.

After the encounter on the porch and seeing his family’s acceptance, he was surer of his decision to advertise for a mail-order bride than he’d ever been. All his worries appeared to be settled. He walked forward and paused beside Libbie, crooking his elbow in her direction. “Shall we?”

Tilting back her head, she glanced upward and smiled. “I’m ready.”

The group exited the house and assembled into a column of three couples.

“We’re walking?” Frowning, Libbie glanced toward the livery then leaned forward to gaze father down the street.

“The church is only three or four blocks away.” Maybe he should have planned for this. His family was used to walking all over Prescott on errands or appointments. He had no idea what her family normally did. Although, thinking back to his last trip to Denver, he realized she probably used hansom cabs while in Boston. “The pastor’s time is reserved right at one o’clock.” As he walked to the corner and turned on Gurley Street, Dell was aware of the looks and whispers from those they passed. Granted, his bride’s attire and lacy umbrella stood out as unusual for this frontier town, but he didn’t give the responses much thought. Curiosity was often shown for a new face in town.

Once the ceremony was completed, he needed to get to the sheriff’s office to file a report about his stolen bull. Not that a paper report replaced getting out into the foothills with Nascha and doing a thorough search. Enough daylight would be left following the ceremony to allow them several hours of tracking time. He’d sure feel better if he had an idea of which direction the rustlers had taken.

A tug on his arm snapped him back to the present. He glanced around and saw the group had reached the church. “Er, sorry.” He clasped Libbie’s hand and cupped her elbow with the other to guide her up the stone steps toward the carved double door. “I hope no unforeseen event has delayed Pastor Reynolds.”

****

Hearing his statement, Libbie jerked her head to the left to see his face. His expression might let her know the meaning behind his words. The tip of her boot hit a step, and she stumbled, leaning into Dell’s solid body.

“Careful.”

Every single aspect of her experience since leaving the train was foreign, and she struggled to keep a smile in place. As gracious and friendly as his family was, they were strangers of only a few hours’ acquaintance. The church of stone and stained glass she entered appeared rigid and imposing, the air chill and smelling of candle wax. So different than the humble structures she was used to. Now her intended groom wanted things to be accomplished fast? Her throat tightened. This day should be joyful, and she wished for her mother’s shoulder to lean on. Instant tears filled her eyes, and she ducked her chin, blinking them back.

“Dell, you go check on the pastor.” Hazel stepped close. “Leave Libbie to us.”

“I’ll do that.” His grip dropped from her arm, and he took one step forward then paused. “Libbie?” His gaze sought hers. “You’ll be all right?”

Touched that he thought to make this last check on her, she just nodded.

“Come with me.” Maida nudged Libbie’s arm and walked ahead to open a side door. “We can use the choir room to make your final preparations.”

Final? What does she mean?
Numbed by the new wash of grief, Libbie followed instructions and entered a small room with shelves of leather-bound books and a few music stands.

From under a shawl draped over her arm, Maida produced a small nosegay of white and pink blossoms. “Every bride needs a bouquet. Here’s what was still flowering at the house.”

“I’ve seen pictures…Oh, you’re so kind to think of this.” Libbie lifted the nosegay of unknown flowers to her face and inhaled a sweet fragrance. The white blossoms were long and trumpet-like, and the pink ones were clusters of tiny blooms. Maybe holding something would hide the shaking of her hands. Her thoughts drifted to what might be happening with her birds and how they were making the adjustment to their new home. Just as important was the fact she needed to inform Dell about their presence.

When she’d arrived at the livery the second time, she’d inquired, and William informed her he’d had the freight wagons loaded with the crates and her luggage driven out to the Bar S Ranch. She knew Jomo would be sure the birds were settled, but she hated leaving all the work to him. After all, her parents had entrusted her with caring for the ostriches. The flock represented the last present she’d ever receive.

“What’s that sad expression for, miss?” Hazel removed the parasol from Libbie’s hand and folded it.

“Sorry. My thoughts were with my family who are not here.” Her breath caught at the partial lie and how her words might sound ungrateful. “But I’m glad my
new
family is present. Thank you for all you’ve done.”

Emitting a giggle, Maida threw her arms around Libbie’s shoulders. “I’m glad to finally have a sister in my life.”

For a moment, Libbie closed her eyes, and wished she could absorb some of this curvy woman’s enthusiasm. She lifted a hand to place on top of Maida’s and gave a squeeze. Their circumstances of being the only daughter in a family of sons was similar. Like the bond she’d had with Grace on the train, Libbie viewed this young woman as her ally—with developing ties already stronger than those she’d had with her Boston cousins.

Hazel and Maida then tugged and smoothed the fit of Libbie’s dress, chattering about the cut and the fabric, and lamenting the lack of a veil. The hem of her dress was shaken to remove as much reddish Arizona dirt as possible. Their attentions distracted her from her earlier sadness and flutters settled in her stomach.

A throat clearing alerted them to William’s presence a second before he appeared in the open doorway. “I’m here to escort the bride.”

After accepting final best wishes from the women, Libbie took a deep breath and smiled at the older man. “I am ready.”

“You look right pretty, Miss Libbie.” William extended an elbow in the same fashion his son had.

“Thank you.” Her throat grabbed tight and she could say no more.

With measured steps, they advanced down the church’s center aisle.

Libbie thought of making her family proud and walked with her shoulders back and her head up, focusing her gaze on the waiting tall, dark-haired man.

Beside him stood a middle-aged man wearing a black suit and a gray scarf that hung past his waist.

During the last few steps, she glanced at the glowing sconces on the back wall and two tall candles burning on a side table next to the thick book Hazel had carried.

“Good afternoon, young lady. I’m Pastor Reynolds.” He smiled, and the skin around his blue eyes crinkled.

“P-Pastor.” Libbie dipped her chin, embarrassed at the catch in her voice. Now that the moment was here she couldn’t fight the anxiety. What if this choice was the biggest mistake of her life? Maybe she should have fought harder to stay in Boston, at least until she’d received word from one of her brothers.

“Normally, I would already know these details, but special circumstances exist today.” He leaned forward and whispered, “Please tell me your full given name.”

“Libbie Anke Van Eycken.”

“And, miss, seeing no family to speak on your behalf, I must ask. Do you assert you have no encumbrances preventing this marriage from taking place?”

What can he mean?
Frowning, she angled toward Dell and looked upward.

One side of his mouth quirked, then he winked. “He’s asking if you’re unwed and have made no promises to anyone but me.”

She jerked her head to gaze at the pastor. “I assure you I have not.” Her eyes rounded. “I mean, I am not married nor am I affianced.” Her hands shook, and she pulled the bouquet close to her waist. If only the ritual wasn’t so confusing. “I am ready to be married to this man.”

Dell released the flowers from her hold and held them out to his side until Maida rushed forward to claim them. “Libbie, take a breath.” He covered her clasped hands with his own and held tight. “The words are a formality. I know you made your pledge in good faith.”

Looking into his light brown eyes as he spoke and listening to his baritone voice calmed her. Already she looked to him for reassurances, which must speak well of their future.

“All right. Family and fri—uh, family, we are gathered here in God’s house to witness and bless the pledge of love and fidelity Miss Libbie Anke Van Eycken and Mister Arndell Hart Stirling are to make to one another.” Pastor Reynolds glanced at their joined hands, nodded, and then read from the book he held open in his hands. “Dell, do you wish to have this woman as a wife, and to esteem her, to honor, hold and protect her, healthy and sick, just as a husband ought to do for a wife, and to cling to her so long as your life and hers will endure?”

“I do wish.”

“Libbie, do you wish to have this man as a husband, to obey him, to serve, esteem, honor, and guard him, healthy and sick just as a wife ought to do for a husband, and to forsake all other men, and to cling to him as long as your life and his will endure?”

The promises rang in her ears, sounding so important and weighty—like ones that only an older person with more experience in life would make. Or at least one who knew what a wife ought to do for a husband. Guilt at her lack of housekeeping skills stabbed her conscience. Maybe she should have found a way to mention that fact. The pressure of Dell’s fingers brought her wandering thoughts back to the ceremony. “I do so wish.”

The pastor reached toward the middle of his bible and held up a shiny gold ring. “This ring is given as a symbol of your spoken pledge.”

Dell plucked the ring from the pastor’s fingers. He slid his hand under hers so it laid flat, and then he slipped the slim band onto the proper finger. “This ring proclaims my vow to cherish a life we will build together, along with any children granted us.”

His intense gaze captured hers, making her pulse pound like a
goema
drum. She heard the conviction in his voice and believed his words. “I, too, look forward to making a life at your side.”

“You both have stated your promises and made pledges to one another here in this house of worship.” Pastor Reynolds held his hand near Dell’s head then moved to Libbie’s as he continued speaking. “The Lord’s blessings are upon this marriage of Libbie and Dell. Now you may seal your vows with a wedding kiss.” Smiling as each in turn, he stepped back.

As she turned to gaze upon her new husband, Libbie held her breath. Why did this first kiss have to be in front of others? Her wish would have been for privacy, to enjoy the sensations she’d been anticipating since seeing Dell on the sun porch.

Dell slid a hand along her neck, his thumb caressing her jaw as he lowered his head. His other hand gripped her waist, holding her in place.

Libbie anchored a hand on his forearm and stood on tip-toes to meet his mouth. The tug of his moving lips excited, making her own tingle. She stretched higher, closing her eyes and wanting more of the sensations that make her blood pound in her ears.

When he eased away, he huffed out a breath and spoke her name.

She blinked and looked upward, amazed that her lips felt so warm.

Dell’s cinnamon-eyed gaze watched her, then he smiled.

The Stirling family stepped forward and gave their hearty congratulations to the wedded couple. The men shook hands, and Libbie received hugs and cheek kisses from everyone.

The specialness of the moment still clung to her thoughts. Her responses were faintly spoken and probably didn’t sound sincere. The ring dangled on her finger, and she kept her fist half closed to keep from losing it.

Following the pastor’s instructions, they watched as he recorded the date of the ceremony, their birthdates, and their names in the family bible.

Dell reached for Libbie’s left hand, tucked it in the crook of his elbow, and then started down the aisle.

Moments later, the entire group exited out the double doors and stood on the boardwalk in front of the church.

“Dad, will you see that Libbie gets back to the livery?” Dell moved his hand to Libbie’s lower back and pressed her forward. “Sergio should be waiting to drive her to the ranch.”

“What? You’re not taking me to our home?” She really hadn’t meant for her voice to rise in anxiety. Didn’t he realize she was adrift here in this new place? That she’d barely had a chance to take a breath since the train stopped at the depot. But of course he didn’t, because he wasn’t there to greet her when she arrived.