The Bride Price (8 page)

Read The Bride Price Online

Authors: Tracey Jane Jackson

Tags: #romance, #civil war, #historical, #pennsylvania, #timetravel, #portland, #historical 1800s, #portland oregon, #harrisburg

“The scoundrel!”

Sophie sat forward. “No, no, he wasn’t. He
was the perfect gentleman. It’s just different in my time.”

“How different?”

“It’s hard to explain. Sex before marriage is
acceptable, even expected, so Jamie and I were considered
strange.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, we chose to wait until marriage to
consummate our relationship.”

“As it should be,” Christine said.

Sophie smiled at Christine’s pursed mouth and
blushed cheeks. Her expression was reminiscent of Jamie’s very
proper, very Baptist, grandmother. “Is this too much
information?”

“No, just unfamiliar. I’ve never witnessed
affection between a man and a woman, and we certainly don’t discuss
it. Please, continue.”

Sophie chuckled sadly. “Jamie’s kiss was
amazing. I had never been kissed like that before and, believe me,
he never disappointed in that regard. Even five years later, his
kisses can make my legs weak.”

A quiet squeal brought Sophie’s eyes back to
Christine, who was bright red and fanning her face with her hand.
“Oh, my, my.”

“Sorry, Christine, I’ve talked your ear
off.”

“Nonsense. It’s refreshing.”

Sophie laughed out loud. “I can see how
refreshed you are. Your face is beet red.”

Christine cleared her throat. “Well, we’ll
just need to find a way for you to move on.”

“No, Christine, you don’t understand. I
can’t
live without him. I am his Ten-Cow woman.”

“He called you a cow?”

Sophie nodded. “Reverently.”

Christine settled her head against the chair
as Sophie shared the fable.

“There is a story of a farmer with three
daughters. One was fair-haired and lovely, and her hand in marriage
was exchanged for a high price of seven cows, eight chickens, and
five pigs. His second born was equally pretty as the first, but her
hand came for far less a price at five cows. Then the youngest, a
quiet young maiden, not particularly pretty, but sweet. The old
farmer feared his youngest daughter would never marry and he’d be
stuck with her. So he set her price at one cow and the runt of a
sow’s litter.”

Christine wrinkled her nose. “She sounds
positively homely.”

Sophie chuckled. “One day, a young man came
to the farmer and told him he had fallen in love with his youngest
daughter and he would do anything to marry her. The farmer informed
him of the bride price and the suitor left without comment. A year
went by, and although both his other daughters had married, his
youngest remained at home, pining for her young man.”

“You’d think she would have married someone
else by then.”

Sophie raised an eyebrow. “Is romance lost on
you, then?”

Christine lifted her cup to her mouth.
“Sorry, continue.”

“Anyway, the farmer and his wife weren’t sure
how they were going to break it to their daughter that, obviously,
her young man just didn’t feel she was worth the one cow and
piglet. When the maiden had lost all hope, her young man came. With
ten cows in tow. He’d also brought with him, three goats, six pigs,
and twenty chickens. The girl’s father met him at the door, and the
young man said, ‘I believe you have highly undervalued your
daughter. Here are ten cows, which is what I believe she is
worth.’”

Tears slipped down Christine’s cheeks, and
she pulled a handkerchief from her cuff to wipe them away. “My
word, Sophie. How romantic.”

“I know. I feel sometimes I take that for
granted.” Sophie frowned. “His love for me is overwhelming at
times.”

“I also lost my husband.”

Sophie gasped. “You did? Oh, Christine! I’m
so sorry.”

Christine held a hand up. “I’m only telling
you because I’m proof that life will go on.”

“How did he die?”

“He was killed at Shiloh.”

“April 1862,” Sophie whispered.

Christine’s eyes widened. “Yes, that’s
right.”

Sophie gathered her dishes and set them on
the bureau as Christine continued her story.

“A wonderful man, handsome and kind. Peter
became my world. We were married for three years before the war
started, and when it did, I truly thought it would be over quickly
and he would come back to me. My brother, Andrew, was his closest
friend, and they decided to join together.” Christine got a faraway
look on her face. “Such a difficult time.” With a sad smile, she
faced Sophie again. “Our little girl, Eleanor, had just died from
influenza. She was only two years old and the grief was
overwhelming. I think Peter tried to forget, so when the
opportunity came to join the Union, he jumped at it.”

“That makes sense,” Sophie said as she turned
from the bureau to face Christine.

“A few days after the battle at Shiloh, I
volunteered at the hospital and received word that Andrew made it
to Charleston, despite severe wounds. I convinced Michael to travel
to him, and harder still, persuaded him to take me. I was still
quite surprised we were even notified.”

“How did they know about him, or for that
matter, you?”

“Andrew and Peter purchased disks they wore
around their necks. They had their personal information engraved on
them. We had never heard of anything like that before but were
grateful.”

The first dog tags.

Sophie leaned forward. “What happened?”

“They brought my brother in unconscious, his
face badly bloodied and shrapnel in both his knees. Apparently,
he’d escaped a group of Confederates who captured several of his
unit. He stole a horse and made it to safety.”

Sophie gasped. “Incredible.”

“Or, stupid.” Christine clasped her hands in
her lap. “Andrew remained unconscious for several days after we
arrived, but when he woke, it fell to him to tell me Peter had been
killed. Andrew told me that as he rushed to Peter’s side, a canon
ball exploded in front of him, and his legs were so damaged, he
couldn’t move fast enough to get to Peter. Andrew still feels
guilty about it. The physical limitations from his injuries are a
constant reminder. He also has some scarring on his face and walks
with a limp.”

“How sad,” Sophie whispered.

“Oh, there’s nothing sad about my brother.
He’s the strongest man I know.”

“What happened to Peter?”

“All I have is a letter and medallion that
Andrew managed to grab. I had to say goodbye to a ghost.”

“Christine,” Sophie said sadly.

“My only regret is that we didn’t have any
other children. When Ellie died, the thought of getting pregnant
and losing another baby was just too much. I have a marker for
Peter next to Ellie’s grave on the little hill, overlooking Mama’s
house.”

Sophie and Christine sat in silence for
several minutes and then Christine stood. “I should take my
leave.”

Sophie stood as well. “Thanks again for the
great talk.”

Christine smiled. “Try to get some untroubled
sleep. You deserve a reprieve.”

“If I can find a way back to Jamie, that just
might happen.”

“We’ll try tomorrow.”

“Thank you.”

Sophie changed and
climbed into bed. Her head spun with too much information, her
heart beat with too much emotion. As she closed her eyes and forced
herself to think of happier times, she melted into the memory of
Jamie.

* * *

“Good morning, Miss Sophie. Time to rise and
shine.” Betty opened the drapes, waking her later than usual to
help her dress.

Do they make everyone chipper in this century?

“Good morning, Betty.”

Nona poked her head in. “Good morning, dear,
did you sleep well?”

“Like a baby.”

“Oh that’s wonderful.” Nona smiled. “Would
you like to join me for breakfast?”

“Yes, Nona, breakfast would be lovely.”

Sophie finished dressing and then followed
Nona, who appeared to be in a fine frenzy this morning, downstairs.
They ate a quick breakfast, then Nona dragged her along for what
she called her morning constitutional.

A tour of the grounds revealed an expanse of
land Sophie had never experienced, and she wondered how long
someone could be lost on their property before they were found.
Nona explained that Richard Madden shared a certain section of
acreage and Sophie listened distractedly. At that precise moment,
he appeared before them, sitting on a beautiful Thoroughbred
gelding, no less.

“Good morning, ladies. What a pleasant
surprise seeing both of you here.”

Sophie ignored him.

“Good morning, Richard. I’m showing Mrs. Ford
the grounds. I thought she might like a brisk walk to start the
day. Are you off to the hospital?” Nona enquired.

“Not right this minute, but I’ll be meeting
Michael there later to check on a few of my men,” he replied as he
continued to stare at Sophie, who covertly observed him as he
conversed with Nona.

He wore a tan pair of breeches, a basic white
shirt, and nicely tailored jacket. His hat was tilted slightly over
his eyes and she couldn’t help but notice strong hands outlined
beneath soft, kid gloves. Since he didn’t make an effort to speak
directly to her, Sophie chose to stay quiet. She didn’t
particularly like him, and every time she opened her mouth in his
presence, she said something unpleasant.

Once Richard finally rode away, Nona and
Sophie made their way back to the house. It was past time for lunch
and there was still a lot to do before the party. Sophie, emotions
still raw from the day before, tried to figure a gracious way out
of the event but had no luck coming up with a viable plan.

Michael surprised them by joining them for a
late lunch and just as the three of them were finishing up, the
butler showed Christine and Elizabeth into the dining room.

“Good afternoon, family.”

Both women wore smiles from ear to ear.

“What are you up to, Teeny?” Suspicion
hovered in Nona’s voice.

“Whatever do you mean, Nona?” Christine
feigned innocence. “I’m not up to anything.”

Nona’s eyebrows puckered. “Well, my dears, I
don’t have time to figure out exactly what you two are up to, as I
have a party to plan. Just try not to make a mess. That’s all I
ask.”

“Us?” Elizabeth and Christine said, in
unison.

Christine grabbed Sophie’s hand and pulled
her from the dining room. Elizabeth seemed as giddy as a teenager.
Sophie was intrigued and slightly worried at the same time.

“What
are
you two up to?” Sophie asked
as they entered her bedroom.

“Nothing, really. Trust us,” Elizabeth
replied.

“Famous last words, as they say.”

“Who says?”

“Never mind.” Sophie pulled Christine aside.
“We’re supposed to look for that place, remember?”

“I have already been there, without luck.
However, we haven’t much time to prepare for the party. We’ll look
again tomorrow.”

Sophie sighed in frustration but didn’t feel
as though she had much choice, and nodded her agreement. Christine
had Betty prepare a tub for Sophie and poured scented oil into the
water just as Elizabeth came into the room carrying a load of
packages.

“What have you got there?” Sophie asked.

“A surprise. Now climb into the tub like a
good girl and stop asking questions. All will be revealed in due
time.”

Sophie felt a bit squeamish about undressing
in front of virtual strangers, but they turned their backs and
waited for her to get into the tub. The water covered every inch of
her and she decided her momentary exhibition was well worth her
embarrassment. She hadn’t had a proper bath since her arrival, and
this was heaven.

The girls helped Sophie wash her hair. There
was so much of it, after all, it took the three of them to manage
it. Faster than Sophie would have liked, Christine held up a huge
towel for Sophie, and she stood reluctantly and stepped out of the
tub, before sitting in front of the fire so that Elizabeth could
style her hair.

The girls had a blast. They talked and
giggled like teenagers and Sophie felt like she had two new
sisters. She just wished Emma could be here to join in the fun. She
would love Christine and Elizabeth.

Sophie took a
deep breath. For whatever reason, she was now in 1863, preparing
for a night of fun without Jamie. She thought it strange how she
started to comprehend all of this from that first
moment of
true pain, when she saw the soldier that wasn’t Jamie, and now she
was in the midst of an intense moment of pleasure that couldn’t be
dismissed.

Once Elizabeth was done with Sophie’s hair,
Christine opened the package on the bed and pulled out the most
exquisite ball gown Sophie had ever seen. Burnished copper silk
caught the light from the fireplace as Christine shook the skirts
out and Sophie was in awe – until Christine held up the bodice.
With a low neckline and what appeared to be a very tiny waist,
Sophie let out a nervous giggle. “I can’t honestly see how that
will ever fit me.”

Christine smiled. “That is why we have
this.”

When she held up the corset, Sophie groaned.
Wrapping the contraption around her waist, Christine tightened it,
and Sophie declared she was more evil than Betty, once the deed was
done. The girls helped Sophie get into the dress and then pulled
out the matching slippers.

Elizabeth led her to the full-length mirror
and Sophie didn’t recognize herself. The bodice came to a point
over the full hoop skirt, and was off the shoulder, with short
sleeves. She giggled a little when she looked at her cleavage,
spilling over the top of the dress. She and Emma always called
cleavage, ‘Cleveland.’ Her mother was a bit embarrassed about
discussing breasts with them and made up the nickname.

Well, mom, this is Cleveland, Columbus,
Cincinnati, and all surrounding areas.

Elizabeth created a masterpiece with Sophie’s
hair as she wove copper ribbon in and out of her curls. Sophie knew
Elizabeth wasn’t sure what do to with the front of her hair, since
unlike women in the Civil War period, Sophie had bangs. Elizabeth
ended up sweeping them to the side and it created such a soft
effect around Sophie’s face, she felt somewhat ethereal. She was
too afraid to move.

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