Paul didn't want to wait. It was only two weeks before we were married. The ceremony was strange because Paul insisted that we ask the pastor to conduct the ceremony but I had not explained the more intimate history between myself and Reverend Brown; once Paul had proposed he conduct the ceremony I found it impossible to explain an objection without embarrassment, so bit my tongue and accepted his suggestion.
When it came to that point in the ceremony where the congregation is asked if there is any reason why we couldn't be married, I swear I received the strangest of looks from Reverend Brown. After the ceremony, we had a gay old time with a party in the saloon at which I must have danced with every man in town, except the pastor and Joe. The former sat in a corner sipping at a sarsaparilla; the latter, with his arm still in a sling, could not bring himself to attend at all.
Afterwards, Paul took me outside to the street and we had a send off; the two of us riding out to his cabin atop a little wagon, pulled by an old chestnut mare. I think he must have spent a good long time tidying and cleaning that cabin, but there were still little signs that only a man had lived there for a good long time. On our wedding night, though, that hardly mattered and neither of us slept a wink. In the morning, we stirred when the sun shone in upon our marriage bed. Very gallantly, Paul got up to make some coffee, while I lay in repose under the blankets.
It may seem, dear reader, a little strange to you that I do not describe my wedding night in more detail than I have; however, if you consider the privacy and intimacy of that moment of consummation, and how that differs from the other experiences I have been relating, perhaps you will better understand my reticence to go into details. Suffice to say, our mood that morning was one of satisfaction and happiness.
Well, the job of a sheriff can be given no hiatus for a honeymoon. Paul would need to be back in town during the day. We agreed that I would stay at the cabin during the morning and meet him at his office around lunchtime. He’d take his horse and I’d walk into town later; it was only half a mile or so. I spent the morning spring cleaning the cabin; it took a whole morning’s effort to transform the cabin from being clean and tidy to Paul’s standard to being clean and tidy to my standards. It was with the satisfaction of a job well done that I then set out for town, through the noon day sun.
The road into town was along a wooded creek and it was pleasant to stroll through the dappled sunlight that made its way through the trees. It didn’t take me long to reach the sheriff’s office; but I was startled by the mood of my dear husband when I arrived.
“Oh Paul,” I said, “Whatever’s the matter? You look as if someone’s died!”
“I… I don’t know what I’m going to do. I can’t believe what’s happening, nor how to set things straight. I thought our marriage was the beginning of a new life, but it seems to have brought troubles of its own.”
“Why whatever do you mean? Tell me--tell me what’s happened!”
“The judge returned to town two days ago. He has been elsewhere in the district for the past month or so. Apparently Joe went to him yesterday and insisted that charges be brought against me for attempted murder.”
“Attempted murder? Attempted murder of who?”
“Why of Joe himself, of course. When we faced off against one another in the street.”
“But that was all Joe’s doing! He started that, and he drew first! I’d testify in court; I’d swear on the bible that you were merely defending yourself.”
Paul signed. “I know you would, my dear. But… you can’t. A man’s wife cannot testify in his defense. It’s the law.”
“We must be able to do something!” I said in desperation.
“I don’t know what.”
“Perhaps I could speak to Joe.”
“My sweet, if he’s willing to draw a gun on me and then lie about it to a judge, I can’t imagine you being able to talk him out of of having me charged.”
I fell silent. I knew he was probably right. Even if I were to seduce Joe, it would probably just remind him of our time together and deepen his resolve for revenge against Paul. I collapsed into a chair and set to thinking about what else we might be able to do to save Paul from a lengthy prison sentence and losing his job: we would have only the shortest of times together if Joe had his way.
We ate the lunch I had brought in silence. This was the last thing I would have expected. I had had such high hopes, such a light heart as I walked into town. My walk back to the cabin was quite a different affair; there was a chill in the air, and the dusty ground was blown into my eyes by a chill wind and the thoughts turning over in my head did nothing to lighten my mood. When I arrived back at our cabin, I was in quite a state of distress.
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