Authors: Maggie Brendan
Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Historical, #General, #Christian
She couldn’t have known that Catharine’s heart ached at the mention of a baby. Anna patted her sister on the arm, and Catharine felt heat rising in her face as she stared down at Anna’s hand.
Peter’s face turned bright pink, but he smiled and said, “No doubt you’ll be consulted in that possibility, Mrs. Moody.” He paid for the purchases and handed Greta and Anna a few parcels to carry. He carried the boots and gave Catharine the hats to hold.
“
Dank U wel
, Peter. This feels like Christmas morning,” Anna commented as she took the packages from him.
Greta giggled. “Not exactly, Anna. Remember, these are work clothes for life on a farm.”
“Maybe so, but I for one am looking forward to spending time outdoors,” Anna answered.
“Well . . . let’s hope you’ll still be able to say that after a few weeks of the constant wind and heat we’ll have this summer.”
Peter guided the sisters back to where he’d left the carriage. He squeezed Catharine’s arm affectionately on their walk back, moving rather quickly, Catharine thought, probably in order to keep the ceremony time. She was filled with a mixture of excitement and nervousness and wondered if his mother would come and be a part of this. She was surprised that he hadn’t told his mother, and she knew it wouldn’t bode well to start a marriage off on the wrong side of the fence with one’s mother-in-law.
Which made her wonder . . . what other surprises might Peter have, and how on earth was she going to tell him her own secret?
After storing all their packages, everyone got settled inside the carriage and headed to the courthouse. Catharine was disappointed that there hadn’t been time to change her dress, but then again, so many things in her life hadn’t gone according to plan. Anna and Greta sat in the back while Catharine shared the front seat with Peter. At least the cover helped a little to deflect the sun’s afternoon rays.
Peter seemed in high spirits as he guided the carriage through the throng of people, buggies, and horses around the city streets. “Peter, what do you know of Bryan Gifford?” Catharine kept her voice low, not wanting Greta to hear.
Peter glanced sideways at her. “Not much, I’m afraid. We have an army post here named Fort Russell. Many soldiers come and go, so I’m only acquainted with a few of them.” He cocked an eyebrow. “Why? Are you worried about Greta being friends with him?”
Catharine shrugged. “I suppose I am. Her care and Anna’s was entrusted to me after my mother and father died. I need to protect them, and Bryan did seem rather flirtatious, in my opinion.”
Peter chuckled and covered her hand with his, still holding the reins in his left hand. “Don’t worry your pretty little head about the soldiers. If Greta and Anna decide to stay, I’ll introduce them right proper to some eligible men. There are plenty in Cheyenne. Men outnumber women here and perhaps in most places in the West.”
His reference to her “pretty little head” flattered her. She’d never considered herself pretty with her freckled complexion and auburn hair. And she wished she wasn’t so tall. Catharine had inherited her father’s coloring, but secretly she envied her two younger sisters, who took after their beautiful mother with their blue eyes and flaxen hair.
“Oh, I can’t see them leaving me.”
Did he just wince?
“But if you can help them find suitable jobs, I would be most grateful, Peter.” She looked over at him, and his eyes were full of optimism.
“Anything I can do to help, Catharine, I will.”
She loved how her name sounded when he spoke it. Softly, almost reverently, which she certainly didn’t deserve.
Laramie County Courthouse was on Eighteenth Street and Ferguson Street, just a couple of blocks from the railroad depot. It was a two-story building with an adjoining structure at the rear. Catharine surveyed the area. “It’s such a large building for a courthouse. Is this where we’re to be married?”
“Yes. Those attached buildings are the jailhouse and the sheriff’s office.” Peter hopped down and set the brake, then turned to help Catharine down. His hand was warm and strong, and their eyes locked briefly, his crinkling at the corners with delight. Catharine smiled at him, feeling her pulse leap at the touch of his hands on her fingers.
“It won’t be long now and you’ll be my very own. You make me very happy, Catharine,” he said softly. His eyes were sincere and filled with longing, and Catharine felt a strange quiver in the pit of her stomach.
“I surely hope so, Peter,” she whispered in his ear. His aftershave lotion smelled good and tickled her nostrils.
Peter assisted her sisters, then ushered them through the heavy doors and down the hallway, stopping in front of the door that read
Justice of the Peace, the Honorable Joseph M. Carey
.
“Are you ready to become Mrs. Andersen, Catharine? Are you certain?” Peter stammered, doubt reflected on his handsome face.
Catharine heard Greta and Anna giggle, but she ignored them and looped her arm through his. “Peter, I’m very sure. Otherwise I wouldn’t be standing here.”
“Very well then.” He swallowed hard and his Adam’s apple bobbed. He swung open the door, and Catharine saw another young couple standing near the front of the room.
“There you are!” A heavyset man with an Italian accent and a curling mustache strode toward them. “Right on time, I see. And this has to be your wonderful Catharine.” He stuck out his hand and shook hers enthusiastically. “I’m Mario Cristini, a good friend of Peter’s. He talks incessantly about you.”
“
Hallo.
Is that right? I know from his letters that Peter holds you in high regard,” Catharine said.
Mario laughed. “Is that so? Well, good friend or not, if he gives you the least bit of trouble, you’re to let me know.” He pulled a dark-haired, pretty lady to his side, though she barely reached his shoulder. “Catharine, this is my wife, Angelina.”
Angelina had a wide smile with friendly, dark brown eyes. “How are you? I’m so glad to meet you. I hope we’ll become good friends, Catharine. Welcome to Cheyenne.” She too had a rich accent, and it intrigued Catharine.
“
Hoe maakt U het?
How are you? Thank you so much for your warm welcome.” Catharine turned to introduce her sisters, but Peter beat her to it.
“And these are her sisters, Greta and Anna,” he said, leading them forward. “They’ll be living with us.”
“Oh . . . how . . . interesting. You never told us that Catharine had any family.” Mario looked at them squarely, assessing the couple, and Catharine saw Peter shift uncomfortably. Angelina cleared her throat and gave her husband a “don’t say another word” look, then clasped Greta’s and Anna’s hands in friendship.
The girls seemed uncomfortable but murmured a greeting to the Cristinis. Catharine felt their embarrassment. She knew they probably felt like they were a bother. Later she would reassure them that it would all work out. She was determined not to let anything get in the way of taking care of her sisters until they were old enough to find either suitable husbands or jobs, if at all possible. She intended to be completely devoted to their welfare because she had promised herself to do all she could for Greta and Anna. Now if she could just convince Peter of that. She would tell him again that she was sorry she hadn’t brought up the fact that they would be coming with her.
The sound of heels against the walnut floor caused the group to turn as the judge entered the room. Catharine was shocked that the judge was a woman who stood about six feet tall.
And I thought I was tall.
She looked to be in her early seventies and walked with regal dignity and a no-nonsense attitude as she made her way to the small group. Her hair was stacked high on her head, and prominent cheekbones etched her weathered face.
“Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen. I’m Judge Ester Morris, presiding in Judge Carey’s absence today.” Her piercing blue eyes looked over their group as she asked, “Who’s the lucky couple getting married today?”
Peter stepped forward and pulled Catharine with him, a big grin on his face. “We are, Judge Morris,” he said, handing her the marriage license.
She opened the folded paper. “I see you have the proper paperwork, Mr. Andersen.” She looked at Catharine and smiled. “You are Catharine then?”
Catharine finally found her tongue. “
Ja.
I’m Catharine Olsen.”
“Ah . . . first marriage for both of you, I take it?” Judge Morris adjusted the lacy collar of her black robe.
Catharine’s heart pounded, and suddenly the room felt warm and stuffy, making her light-headed.
Without waiting for an answer, the judge continued. “I love seeing the first blush of love on a bride’s face. Well, congratulations to you both! What are we waiting for? Who are your witnesses? I see you’ve brought more than enough.” She cackled loudly.
“Mario Cristini and his wife, Angelina, Your Honor,” Peter answered. “They’re my best friends. And these ladies are Greta and Anna, Catharine’s sisters.”
“How do you do, young ladies? I believe I detect a foreign accent?”
“
Ja.
We are from Amsterdam,” Greta was quick to answer. “I’ve never met a female judge before,” she said, unabashedly staring at the judge.
Judge Morris laughed again and crossed her arms across her tall frame. “I was somewhat of a rebel in my younger days. Maybe somewhat like yourself,” she answered, her eyes twinkling in merriment.
“You have that correct, Your Honor.” Anna poked her sister in the side and squinted affectionately at her.
“Follow me to the front and we’ll get started. I have another matter at 3:30.”
Moments later, all the joking aside, Judge Morris began commencing the vows. It all seemed so rushed.
But I don’t deserve anything else for not being totally honest with Peter
, Catharine thought. How she wished she had. But it was too late now. If Peter knew the truth, she was sure he would change his mind about marrying her.
She heard the judge ask if Peter had a ring, when suddenly the door swung open and Peter’s mother came charging down the aisle, waving her hand. “Wait, Peter! I have your grandmother’s ring right here—the one that you were planning on giving to Dorothy!”
Peter’s face drained of all color as Clara stepped up to him and pressed the ring into his palm. Anna and Greta gasped, and Angelina whispered something to Mario.
Who was Dorothy?
“Peter, what is she talking about?” Catharine managed to speak as the color returned to his face.
“No one, Catharine.”
“Humph! No one? No one? He intended to marry Dorothy Miller before
you
came!” Clara’s voice rose slightly, her nostrils flaring.
Catharine felt all of her earlier joy drain from her being, and the old familiar ache followed and burned in its place. Greta and Anna hurried to her side.
“Peter,
alstublieft
, is this true?” Catharine asked, but he was staring with shock at his mother.
“Mother, what are you doing?” Peter said through clenched teeth.
Clara gasped and took a deep breath. “You know perfectly well, Son.”
“I had no such plans—”
Judge Morris interrupted, clearing her throat loudly. “Mrs. Andersen, will you please step aside and observe the ceremony or remove yourself from my courtroom? You have interrupted a holy matrimony, and the last time I looked, there were two consenting adults.”
Clara sputtered as everyone watched the judge staring her down. Catharine was shaking now, though Anna held her hand. When she looked at Peter, his eyes were pleading.
“Well . . . I . . . only wanted to be certain Peter was ready to marry someone he’d never even met until today—”
“Madam, I won’t ask you again. Either stand back while we proceed or leave
now
.”
Clara harrumphed and took a step off to the side, apparently intending to stay for the ceremony. Peter took a thin gold band out of his coat pocket.
Judge Morris whispered under her breath to Catharine, “Do you wish to have a few moments alone to confer with your groom?”
“Catharine, believe me, I haven’t been courting anyone but you these last months. My mother had plans, but they were not mine! Please listen to me and trust me.” Peter’s look was genuine, and his mother did seem to be a smidgen of a busybody. He squeezed Catharine’s hand so tightly that her fingers were beginning to hurt.
Could she trust him? All through their correspondence, he’d professed his desire to take care of her and be a good husband to her. She looked over at Mario, who was nodding his head as though to vouch for his friend’s faithfulness, and Angelina gave her a sweet smile of confirmation.
Catharine finally answered, “
Goed.
Okay, Peter.” She gave him a feeble smile, and Peter’s eyes softened as he squeezed her hands.
Judge Morris looked at the watch pinned to her black robe. “Shall we get on with it?”
“Your Honor, would you indulge me? It’ll only take a moment. I have something I want to read before the ceremony,” Peter said.
Judge Morris nodded. “Yes, Mr. Andersen. What would you like to say?”
Peter removed a piece of paper from his coat pocket and turned to face Catharine. “I want to read a letter that I penned for you but didn’t mail before you left Holland.” Peter’s eyes caressed hers, and Catharine felt her face flush.
For my bride-to-be,
It’s with great excitement that I look forward to meeting you face-to-face. Your loveliness comes through your letters, overshadowing any doubts I could have because of never meeting you before. We are destined to be together. You see, dear Catharine, I’ve prayed for someone like you in my life. Someone to share my heart’s desire for children to fill the home with happiness and teach them our values, and to work side by side with to bring our dreams about. My heart is pounding with anticipation that you might be feeling the same way as I, and my fingers tremble as I struggle to hold my pen. Soon my dreams will be reality, and I believe the best is yet to come the day you’re mine.