What was I to do?
If Noah's neighbors from town were still overly concerned about our relationship, I had to do something about it. There had to be something, anything, that would not only make them mind their own business, but would also clear Noah's name. But what could that be?
"What is behind that serious look?" Martha asked as we washed the breakfast dishes Saturday morning. "Are you so greatly disappointed Noah will not be coming over today?"
"No," I said swiftly. "Well, perhaps a little disappointed, but I wasn't thinking about that. I was thinking I need to go into town."
The other woman raised an eyebrow. "But you're going to be there tomorrow."
"Yes, but Noah will be with me, and I have something I must do without him there."
Martha faced me. "You want to speak to the Burns."
"Miss Annie Burns, specifically."
Shaking her head, she turned back to the pot she was drying. "Why? What would you say to her?"
"Well, she is the one who began the story of Noah taking advantage of her, isn't she? Since everyone in town seems to think I need to know it, I think I should hear it from her."
"So, you don't really want to go to town. You want to go to the Burns' homestead."
"Where Mrs. Burns had threatened to shoot Noah if he didn't leave? No, thank you," I said emphatically. "I want to be where other people can see me. Once they know I've spoken to the girl, they'll have to leave me alone."
"What makes you think that?"
"Because then they'll know I've heard the story and don't believe it. What misunderstanding could I get hearing what the girl has to say?"
With a slight chuckle, Mrs. Harper shook her head again. "You underestimate people's ability to think the worst. They'll say Noah has you blinded to the truth, or that you're too stubborn to see what is right in front of you. They might even say you're too desperate to listen."
Desperate. There was that word again and it grated on my nerves. I had never been desperate and I hated that anyone made that assumption about me. They knew nothing about me!
Yet, my brother had known me, and had made the same judgment.
"I would think that in a place where there is so much to do to survive, they would not have the time to speculate and worry about someone other than themselves," I said, throwing the towel with too much force onto the table. "How do they find the time?"
Mrs. Harper let out a laugh. "I do wonder that myself. Perhaps it is the mere fact that is something out of the ordinary for them to talk about."
"So you don't think talking to Miss Burns will do anything?" I couldn't keep the disappointment from my voice. It had been the only thing I could think to do that would help Noah.
"At this point, I'm not sure it would matter much," Martha said honestly. "Will it change how you feel if you hear the girl's story?"
Startled, I blinked. Change how I felt? How did I feel? I was comfortable with Noah, and enjoyed his company very much. Kissing him had been very nice, and I looked forard to doing it more often. Was that love?
Molly had said that my heart was attached when I was in Peru, but I hadn't believed her. I liked Noah, certainly, but love? The thought sent a shiver down my spine. Was this love? To want to be with someone? To enjoy their company? To think about them when I wasn't with them?
I'd been certain that I'd need to hear both sides before I made any decision. That hadn't worked out as I'd thought it would. But Noah's honesty and the support of his closest neighbors hadconvinced me that he hadn't committed the crime he'd been accused of.
"It is not a matter of her being able to change what I believe," I said slowly, realising that Martha was waiting for me to answer. "I'm sure Noah is telling the truth."
My new friend nodded her agreement. "He is a man of good character. I would swear to it any day. He's made mistakes in his life, as we all have, but he would never take advantage of a girl like Annie Burns," she said emphatically.
"But I would like to know why," I continued. "Why have the Burns done this? Why have they spread this story? What did they have to gain by ruining Noah's reputation as they have?"
"You think that if you can get Annie to admit what has happened it will all go away?"
Huffing, I shook my head. "No, I'm not that naive. I think it has reached the point that there will always be some who believe Noah is guilty. Isn't that the way it always goes? No matter how much evidence you have, someone will refuse to believe you for whatever reason they might have."
"But you still want to try."
I sank into one of the kitchen chairs. "Well, yes. I don't like seeing Noah so hurt. He has been betrayed by people he thought were his friends. I think it would ...I don't know. Maybe comfort? No, that's not right." I huffed as I struggled to think of the right way to explain it. "I think it would help him somehow if he understood why this has happened."
"Maybe help him accept that he hadn't done anything wrong?" Martha suggested. "I suppose you might be right. I think if I were in his boots, I would wonder what I had done that had been misunderstood."
"So is there a way I can get to town?" I asked, hopeful.
But still, my friend shook her head. "Even if my husband weren't using the horses, I don't think you should rush off without a plan. The girl is probably on her parents' farm with her own day's chores. It would be unlikely you would find her in town and I know you wouldn't be welcome at their farm."
Heaving a sigh, I conceded the point. "And I'd probably get an ear full of gossip from everyone else I met. But I still think I should talk to her."
"Why don't you speak to her before the sermon tomorrow," Martha suggested. "Noah says they scarcely miss a Sunday when the preacher is in town. You'd be in no danger then."
Danger was the furthest worry from my mind. Would it be right to discuss it on the Lord's day? Wasn't Sunday supposed to be a day of rest and peace? But it seemed the only opportunity I would be given.
"I'm sure the good Lord will approve of anything you do to make peace," Martha said as if she had read my thoughts.
"It's a shame women like you aren't allowed to run for any political position," I told her with a laugh. "So many problems could be avoided."
"Oh, no!" she said emphatically. "I wouldn't go near politics! Who would want to try to reason with self important men who just want to get their own way without any concern for what the people really need? I have much better things to do with my time."
Laughing, I agreed with her. "It does seem like children arguing with each other at times." My father had followed all the political arguments of both sides, especially during the war. Any time I had listened to him talk about it, my head would spin with how absurd it all could be.
"Are you ready for your wedding? Do you need to iron your dress? Does anything need to be washed?" Martha asked, changing the subject.
"Yes. No. And no," I responded, amused by the sudden onslaught of questions. "I'm as ready as a woman who traveled across the country can be."
Martha crossed to the rocking chair. She bent down and rummaged in her knitting basket. "Well, I hope you will take this with you," she said, straightening up. In her hand was something blue. "You know the old saying 'something borrowed, something blue'? This ought to fit the bill."
She handed me a soft wool shawl. The deep blue was a gorgeous color that reminded me of the sky when the sun was setting. "Did you make this?" I asked admiring the knitted stitches.
"In the winter, I have plenty of time on my hands and there was a good deal on yarn," she said, her tone satisfied. "Now. I am selfish enough to want it back. Otherwise it wouldn't be borrowed."
"Of course."
"It is a couple years old, so it probably fits the old part of that saying."
"And I have new feathers that I sewed on my hat before I left home, so I think I have everything I need," I assured her. I paused. "I was hoping you would stand up with me since I don't know anyone else in town. Would you be my matron of honor?"
It was a position that would have gone to my sister or Molly if I had been back in Indiana. I wouldn't tell Martha that. I was surprised when the expression on her face shifted from satisfaction and delight to uncertainty.
"I will have to speak to my husband before I can commit to anything," she said, her tone serious. "We don't usually travel on Sunday."
Right. Noah had said the Harpers did their own Sunday services as a family. "I understand. I hope you can come," I told her, knowing when not to push.
~*~
That night, sleep felt far away. I was tired from a day spent helping Martha around the house. It had felt like more training, such as my aunt had given me when I had visited, and kept me from thinking too much. However, when my head hit the pillow, I couldn't keep my eyes shut and my mind wouldn't quiet.
I'd expected doubts to still linger at the back of my mind, but they didn't. I was sure I was doing the right thing. Noah believed we could have a successful marriage, and I thought the same.
No, I was more worried about how the rest of the town would react. Would they somehow try to stop us from getting married? Or, would they simply ignore us? Punish us by not speaking to us from now on?
I might not know them, but I didn't like the idea of having no friends in the town. Though I'd grown apart from many of my childhood friends, I was not anti-social. I couldn't be sure how I would react if I was suddenly a pariah.
Being a homesteader's wife might mean I didn't have much time for socializing. In which case, perhaps the friendship of Martha Harper would be enough. Perhaps even Mrs. Royal, who had stood by Noah in his trouble?
What would being married be like? Would I feel different when I was a married woman? Or would everything feel the same as it ever had?
Round and round my thoughts went until I finally fell into a dreamless sleep. When I woke in the morning, I didn't feel rested at all. My stomach was twisted in knots. Nerves? Fear? Uncertainty? It was difficult to tell.
Though I could smell breakfast cooking in the kitchen below me, I took my time dressing. I'd had a quick bath the evening before. How strange it had been to sit in a time tub in front of the fireplace, hoping the rest of the family stayed clear of the room!
If I had been back home, I might have used a curling iron on my hair. However, as a guest in someone's house, I was not about to take up part of the stove for my own vanity. I braided and pinned my hair back, so it was a little more elaborate than my usual hair style.
When I reached the kitchen, Martha had most of breakfast completed. She turned to face me and her face brightened with a smile. "You look lovely," she exclaimed.
"Thank you," I said, feeling both gratified and embarrassed. "Do you need any help?"
"As if I would put you to work on your wedding day!" she protested. "Absolutely not. You sit down and enjoy your coffee. I'm almost finished."
She turned back to the stove to flip a pancake."I spoke to Henry, and we would be happy to attend your wedding," she said over her shoulder. "We'll come into town later this morning so we'll get there around noon."
Delighted, I accepted her instruction and sat down with a cup of coffee. When the rest of the Harpers came in from their morning chores, they all wished me much joy. I was thankful when no one commented on my poor appetite. The boys more than made up for it with their eagerness to eat everything on the table.
It was strange to be the only one preparing to leave for church. Noah had promised to pick me up and drive me into town with him. He'd mentioned that the Harpers would not go, but I hadn't truly believed it. Why would they stay away? They prayed before every meal.
Now I stood on the porch in my Sunday best, a dark blue gown that I hoped was appropriate enough. The rest of the family had also put on nicer clothes than they'd worn during the week, but clearly had no intention of leaving since no one went to hitch up the wagon. Why was that?
"I'm sure Noah will be here soon," Mr. Harper said as he joined me. "He has never missed one of Mr. Rollins' visits to the town."
"I'm looking forward to meeting him," I responded honestly. "Noah has spoken very highly of him."
"Many are fond of Mr. Rollins."
But... "You aren't?" I asked before I could think better of it. I felt my cheeks flush. "Forgive me. That's none of my business."
"No, I can understand why you would ask. Mr. Rollins is a fine man and a good preacher. I've had no quarrel with him."
I watched him from the side of my eye. "May I ask you a question?"
He chuckled. "Another? Go ahead."
"I hope I am not being presumptuous," I said, choosing my words carefully, "But why don't you and your family come into town for the Sunday service? Is there a reason you choose to stay away?"
Mr. Harper's smile was kind. "Yes. Because we chose not to go. Mr. Rollins is a fine speaker, and it is clear he has a love for his faith and helping other people. But some of the teachings he preaches so passionately disagree with what my family and I believe. So we keep the Sabbath as a family and worship together."
Astonished, I stared at him, rude as it might me. "It is that important to you?"
"Of course," he said, with a laugh. "Faith is not something we take lightly, Miss Garrison. When you believe something, it ought to be worth standing by and not compromising on."
So simple and yet so complicated at the same time! I couldn't remember the last time I'd met someone who was so fervent about their faith. Sunday worship had always been just a part of my life. I couldn't say I felt that strongly about anything I believed.
"Do you find it makes it harder?" was my next question. "Not having the support of those who believe the same as you do, I mean. Are you treated differently because you hold to your beliefs?"
He hummed a note as he thought. "Sometimes it can and yes, we are treated differently. Not many understand why we live the way we do. They say any spiritual guidance is better than nothing at all. They hold us at bay because we refuse to compromise."
"And yet you were one of the few to help Noah when he needed it."
"Of course. Your Noah is a good man. He respects our beliefs, even if he doesn't believe as we do. There's no reason why we can't be friends even if we don't believe the same way. Our country was formed with that very idea in mind, you know."
Again, what he said made sense, even if I hadn't encountered it before. If he wasn't bothering anyone, why should anyone care? Why should I care? "Thank you for telling me, and I hope you forgive me for prying."
He offered one last smile before he left the porch. I watched him walk towards a part of his wife's garden where flowers grew. It had seemed a frivolous addition to something that served a useful purpose in their daily lives, but perhaps that was the point? A statement that things could be beautiful even when they had to be useful?
I caught sight of Noah approaching in his wagon. I reached up to make sure my hat was secured tightly. Sunday service seemed an appropriate time to wear my usual hat. It didn't do much to block the sun, but was pretty with its new jaunty feather that fluttered in the breeze.
When Noah brought the wagon to a halt, he remained on the wagon seat. His mouth was ajar and his eyes wide. "What?" I asked, running my hand over my skirt. Did he not like what he saw? "Do I have flour on my dress?"
Noah snatched his hat off his head and scrambled to the ground. "No. You look wonderful, Elizabeth," he said. "I'm feeling like I'm not worthy of you."
My cheeks flushed with embarrassment. I don't know why. I'd done my best to dress my best. But I hadn't honestly expected him to notice. My brothers and father had never noticed when I had a new dress.
"Don't be ridiculous." I thought he looked very nice. He didn't have a suit like my brother would have insisted on being seen in, but what did that matter? "I hoped that I wasn't too...Eastern in my dress. I don't want anyone to think I am trying to be superior or anything like that."
"You look perfect."
Well, this was getting even more embarrassing fast! "Mrs. Harper has agreed to stand up with me as my matron of honor," I informed him, changing the subject. I walked down the porch steps. "They will be in town by noon, so we have to wait for them. I hope you don't mind."
Noah's expression shifted from surprise to delight. "I hadn't even thought to ask them to come," he admitted. "I would have assumed they wouldn't want to come. I'm glad you asked them. Our friends should be with us to celebrate."
His words sent a flash of regret through me. Too bad my best friend couldn't be there, but at least she would be able to hear about it in a letter.
~*~
Dear Mother,
I don't know why I am wasting paper like this. You would probably scold me for being wasteful. I know you won't read these words, but this is the closest I can think of to talking to you
I am to be married. Though I suppose that wouldn't have been a surprise for you. You did give me your blessing to come west, after all. But when I came I didn't expect to lose my heart so quickly.
Everything is so new and strange. The view is like nothing I could have ever dreamed of seeing. And then there is Noah...
Noah is even more the gentleman he presented himself to be in his letters. Maybe a little bit too noble for his own good. I hate seeing how his neighbors and people who he thought were his friends have turned against him. I'm going to do what I can to fix that. Hopefully, I don't make things worse.
I wish I had thought to ask you what it is like to be married. Why didn't I ask? I wish you were here to advise me and calm my nerves...