He shoved this memory out of his mind. He barely remembered her except for that moment when she’d cut their connection. That day he’d been hoping for a consoling letter. He’d burned hers.
He forced himself back to this important occasion. The wedding ceremony proceeded along the usual lines. He faced his bride, determined.
Noah’s words penetrated. “Asa, repeat after me, please.”
Asa swallowed to clear his throat and voiced this pledge. “I, Asa, take thee, Judith, to be my wedded wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love, honor and cherish till death do us part.” He felt guilty promising things he might not be able to do. But he’d do his best.
In a voice that trembled on some words, his bride voiced her vows to him. And she accepted the simple gold band he slipped on her finger.
“Those whom God hath joined together, let no man put asunder,” the pastor intoned.
Behind him, Asa felt a relaxation of tension. Had the assembly expected his bride to flee? He couldn’t blame them. The pastor continued, “Forasmuch as Judith and Asa have consented together in holy wedlock, and have witnessed the same before God and this company of witnesses, and thereto have given their pledge, each to the other, and have declared the same by giving and receiving a ring, and by joining hands, I now pronounce you husband and wife.” The pastor beamed. “You many now kiss your bride, Asa.”
Asa leaned down slowly, self-consciously. He hadn’t kissed a woman in so long. His bride gazed up at him as if stunned. He pressed his lips to hers lightly. The unexpected shock of the contact whipped through him. He ended the kiss and tightened his hold on her hand. He couldn’t stop himself from whispering, “I’ll do right by you, Judith.”
His bride barely nodded in reply.
The pastor brought him back with “Ladies and gentlemen, I now present to you Mr. and Mrs. Asa Brant.”
There was loud applause and some foot-stomping, and a few children shouted, “Hurray!”
Asa couldn’t help himself. In the face of everyone’s obvious enthusiasm, he smiled though his lips felt tight, unused to the expression.
The next few hours passed in a blur of a festive meal; a special and delicious cake provided by the local baker, Mrs. Rachel Merriday; and many well wishes and gifts. Finally, just as darkness was stealing over the sky, Asa brought the wagon to take his bride home.
He halted the team just outside the door and got down.
Judith’s sister, Emma, stood by her side. “I wish all the best to the best sister,” Emma said. The two sisters clung to each other for a moment. Then Emma stepped away.
Asa helped Judith up onto his wagon. Someone had already loaded on her baggage and all the presents. The schoolhouse emptied, and people shouted congratulations to them as Asa drove up the uneven trail through the town and forest, very aware of his bride on the bench near him.
She shivered.
“My...our place is a little over a mile from town,” Asa said as they left everyone behind. “Won’t be long and I’ll have you by the fire. Warm enough under the lap rug?”
Judith nodded. “It all happened so fast.”
“Soon as I talked to Noah Whitmore, the women just took over. I tried to rein them in but got nowhere. I decided just to stand back, sure they’d do a better job of planning a wedding than I would.” He couldn’t believe how he was babbling. He shut his mouth. What might come out if he kept this up? He needed to guard his tongue. He couldn’t let her connect him to her brother. Doing so might bring up matters he didn’t want to discuss, didn’t want known here.
“After meeting Mrs. Ashford, I understand. And it was really a lovely wedding.”
Asa nodded but concentrated on navigating the narrow trail through the snow. He felt a shiver shudder through her. “You’re cold,” Asa said. “Move closer.”
She scooted over the few inches separating them, shutting out an avenue of the cold wind. “That’s better,” she murmured.
He tried not to stiffen. Having her this close awoke his senses in an unexpected way. Why couldn’t she have been a plain, unexciting woman? In the scant light left by the fading sun, Asa held himself back. “Not far now,” he said.
* * *
Judith found she couldn’t speak, her throat frozen. Grateful for the low light, she nodded against his shoulder. Then, up the trail in a clearing, she saw the roof of a large log cabin and barn facing it. Asa drove up to the door of the cabin. Within minutes he had her inside. “Stand by the fireplace.” He knelt and stirred up the banked fire. “I need to get your things and put the horses away.”
A little disappointed he hadn’t carried her over the threshold, she quelled any complaint. He’d wanted her in by the fire. That showed concern. Men didn’t often feel the same way about customs as women did. “Can I help?”
“Just keep warm.” He hurried outside. Soon he carried in her trunk and then her hatbox and valise. “Won’t be long.” He went outside again, shutting out the chill of early March. She stood in place like one of the surrounding forest trees, unable to speak for fear she’d burst into tears. This was hard.
The fire began to throw out some heat, and she fed it more kindling and wood. Before long, she began to feel the warmth, though inside she still felt chilled.
The door opened again and Asa walked in. She turned to him, her pulse thrumming in her ears. In the low light, she gazed at this man, now her husband. She wasn’t afraid of him, but what would be expected of her tonight? She’d had no mother to explain the workings of marriage to her. She’d never been allowed alone with a man in his home before. And now she stood here with a stranger. Her throat tightened and she felt a bit faint. What would happen next?
Asa went to the table opposite the hearth. She heard him strike a match. Even this tiny sound caused her to flinch. She watched him light an oil lamp.
He straightened and turned to her. “Warmer?”
She nodded, frozen in place.
He passed her and held his ungloved hands toward the fire. “Winter can linger this far north.”
Once again she was struck by his rich voice, and her stomach was doing little hops and skips now.
He faced her and rested his hands on her shoulders. “We’re strangers, and here we are, married.” His voice curled around her nape, making her shiver with awareness. “Don’t worry.”
She didn’t really know how to take what he was saying.
“You’ll sleep there.” He pointed to a curtained doorway. “I’ll sleep in the loft till we get...more acquainted.”
His words finally made sense to her jumbled mind. “Thank...you. This all happened so fast.”
“For me, too.” He looked uncertain. “I have something for you,” he said, motioning toward the other side of the cabin.
Judith
