far is it to your home?” she asked, making small talk.
He pointed south. “About five miles that way, along the Iowa River.”
“What’s your place like?”
“Run down right now,” he confessed with a sigh. “I just bought it back in April. All I’ve had time to do is work in the field.”
Margaret said nothing, waiting for more information.
“There’s about twenty-five square miles in all. The house overlooks the river.”
“It sounds lovely,” Margaret answered with a smile. After this information, she grew more excited about her new home.
Russell brought the buggy to a stop in front of a small pretty cottage. Flowers reached for the sun beside a short picket fence. “This is Reverend Grady’s place. You’ll like his wife,” he assumed with confidence.
Russell reached for Margaret’s waist, assisting her from the wagon. They walked up to the door and knocked. Margaret’s knees were practically knocking too. She was so nervous, not only about the marriage, but also about tonight.
“You’re here!” a pretty woman exclaimed as she opened the door. “Jack, Mister Chadwick is here with his bride,” she hollered back into the house. “Come in, come in. Welcome!” she greeted them. “How do you do?” she asked and extended her hand to Margaret. “I’m Susan Grady.”
Margaret extended her hand. Susan Grady seemed very kind. Her abdomen stuck out heavy with child. “I’m Margaret Roe,” she returned. “It’s very nice to meet you.”
Susan returned her smile and looked at Russell. “Mister Chadwick, what a beauty you’ve captured.”
Margaret was very embarrassed by having this said in front of Russell. She was not at all used to kind words or compliments. She looked toward the floor quickly and noticed Susan’s bare toes sticking out from beneath her skirt. She soon forgot her embarrassment at the amusement.
Another man entered the room. “Good to see you, Russell. Right on time too,” he said looking at the clock on the wall.
“Hello Jack,” Russell greeted, obviously friends with this man. They shook hands. “Jack, I’d like to introduce you to Miss Margaret Roe, my intended.”
“How do you do, miss?” the Reverend asked in a friendly tone.
With a shaky voice, Margaret answered, “Very well, thank you.”
Reverend Grady cleared his throat. “Are you ready?” he asked the couple. He then grabbed a Bible resting on a nearby table. He opened the well-worn pages and began reading from Ephesians, chapter five. When the verses were complete, he began the wedding vows.
Margaret felt like she was in a dream. She spoke her vows when instructed. Russell spoke his in return. It was over quickly and efficiently. There were no rings involved.
“I now pronounce you man and wife,” the Reverend announced. He gave Russell a wide grin. “You may kiss your bride now.”
Margaret gulped. She looked at Russell. He gently placed a hand on her shoulder. His touch was very light. Margaret closed her eyes as his face came near. This was the moment she had thought of a thousand times. Her first real kiss.
Russell leaned forward and placed a respectable kiss on Margaret’s cheek. After the brief touch, Margaret opened her eyes. Was that it? She was greatly disappointed that he had not given her a real bridal kiss. Maybe he was just too shy to kiss her in front of the Revered and his wife. That had to be it.
Susan Grady giggled with delight. As best as she was able with her large stomach, she gave Margaret a warm hug. “Congratulations!” she spoke lively. “You’ve got the best bachelor in the county.”
Forgetting her disappointment, Margaret smiled. “Thank you, Missus Grady.”
“Oh, call me Susan. I hope we will be good friends,” the kind wife said happily. Susan brought her hands up to her mouth. “I almost forgot. Wait here.”
Russell and Jack chatted freely while Margaret waited for Susan to return. The wait was brief. Susan emerged from the adjacent kitchen carrying a large basket. “I have supper all ready for you. I knew you wouldn’t have time to fix anything,” she explained.
Margaret took the basket. “Oh, Susan, thank you so much. How thoughtful you are.” Margaret was glad that she had a friend already. It eased her anxiety about the decision to leave Cincinnati.
“We better be going,” Russell said to his friend.
“Missus Chadwick, are you ready?” he then asked politely.
Margaret looked to Susan, then to her new husband. “Yes, Mister Chadwick, I am.”
Russell took the heavy basket from her arms and led the way back to their wagon. Again, he helped her onto the bench. “See you Sunday,” he called out to the Gradys. “Thanks for the meal, Susan.” With that, he slapped the reins, made a noise in his mouth, and the horses were off.
The sun was still well above the horizon, but the air was not as warm as it had been on the train. Margaret took a deep breath. “The air smells so good and fresh out here, not like in the city.”
Russell smiled. “Wait ‘till it rains. That’s when it smells the best.”
Margaret returned her gaze to the countryside. She saw several houses, some planted fields and open grasslands. The land was very beautiful with gentle rolling hills and large shady oak trees. The river flowed by quietly, glimmering in the sun.
“Missus Chadwick, I’m wondering, are all your dresses that, uh…frilly?” he asked.
Margaret looked down to the floorboards. If only he knew she was still wearing her work boots beneath this dress. He would not have asked that question. “You can call me Margaret, or Maggie, if you like,” she suggested.
“Alright Margaret, do you have any practical clothing?” he rephrased his question.
“Yes. This is my only pretty dress.”
Russell’s sigh was a little too obvious. “That’s good,” he answered. “You wouldn’t want to ruin all your clothes on a muddy farm.”
Margaret wasn’t sure how to take his comment. He had not exactly complimented her at all about the dress, or her appearance. His question hurt her feelings. They continued on in silence for quite some time. Maybe it’s just nerves, Margaret thought. He probably didn’t mean anything by it.
Russell sat brooding as his wagon rolled on. He could kick that man at the agency in Chicago for sending such a pretty girl. It was not at all what he had wanted. He’d needed a sturdy, hard-working, ugly woman to help him on the farm. It would have made his plan so much easier. Regardless, she was here, so he was determined to make the best of it.
Margaret decided to try conversation again. “What should I call you?”
He shrugged. “Whatever.”
“Do
