Their Frontier Family. Lyn Cote

Cold perspiration wet Noah’s forehead. He shoved away battlefield memories and tried to stay in the here and now, with Sunny.

      Solomon continued, “When thee two are ready, my wife and I will lead thee through the simple words that will affirm thy decision to marry.”

      Sunny looked up then.

      Noah read her appeal as clearly as if she had spoken—please let’s finish this. “I’m ready if Sunny is,” Noah said, his voice sounding rusty, his pulse skipping.

      Sunny nodded, her pale pink lips pressed so tight they’d turned white.

      Noah gently took her small, work-worn hand in his, drawing her up to face him. He found there was much he wanted to tell her but couldn’t speak of, not here or maybe ever. Some words had been trapped inside him for years now. Instead he found himself echoing Solomon’s quiet but authoritative voice.

      “In the fear of the Lord and in the presence of this assembly of Friends, I take thee my friend Sunny to be my wife.” He found that she had lifted her eyes and was staring into his as if she didn’t quite believe what was happening. “Promising,” he continued, “with God’s help, to be unto thee a loving and faithful husband, until it shall please the Lord by death to separate us.” Noah fought to keep his voice from betraying his turbulent emotions.

      Sunny leaned forward and whispered shyly into his ear. “Thank you.”

      Unexpectedly, his spirit lightened.

      As Sunny repeated the Quaker wedding promise to Noah, her whole body shook visibly. When she had finished, he leaned forward and pressed a chaste kiss upon her lips. The act rocked him to the core. For her part, Sunny, his bride, appeared strained nearly to breaking. Was marrying him so awful? Did she think he’d be a demanding man? He would have to speak to her, let her know...

      “Now, Sunny and Noah,” Solomon continued, “thee will sign thy wedding certificate and I ask all those attending to sign it also as witnesses.”

      At Solomon’s nod, Noah took his bride’s arm and led her to a little table near the door. A pen, ink and a paper had been set there for them. At the top of the paper someone had written in large bold script, “The Wedding Certificate of Sunny Adams and Noah Whitmore, April 4, 1869 at the Harmony, Pennsylvania, Friends Meeting.”

      Noah motioned for her to go first, but she shook her head. “Please,” she whispered.

      He bent and wrote his name right under the heading. Then he handed her the pen. She took a deep breath and carefully penned her name to the right of his, her hand trembling.

      Then Noah led her to the doorway. By couples and singles, Friends got up and went to the certificate and signed under the heading of “Witnesses.” Then they came to her and Noah and shook their hands, wishing them well. All spoke in muted voices as if trying to keep this wedding secret in some way.

      Adam and Constance Gabriel signed and both of them kissed Sunny’s cheek. “Thee will spend thy wedding night at our house, Noah, if that meets with thy approval,” Constance murmured, still cradling Sunny’s baby.

      “Thank thee,” Noah replied. He’d known better than to consider subjecting his bride to a night in his father’s house. He’d been planning on taking Sunny to a local inn but this would be better, easier on her, he considered, as a thought niggled at his conscience. Should he have confessed to Sunny his limitations before the wedding? That their marriage would not be the usual?

      One of the last to come forward to sign the wedding certificate was his father. He stomped forward and signed briskly. Then he pinned both of them with one of his piercing, judging looks. “I hope thee know what thee are doing.”

      Sunny swayed as if struck. Noah caught her arm, supporting her. All the anger he’d pressed down for years threatened to bubble over, but to what purpose? I will not make a scene. “Thank thee, Father, for thy blessing.”

      His father scowled and walked past them. Then one by one his brothers signed, shook his hand and wished him the best. Finally his eldest brother, Nathan, signed and leaned forward. “God bless thee, Noah and Sunny. I’ll miss thee. We all will. Please send us thy post office address. Though separated, we will still be a family.”

      Noah gripped his brother’s hand and nodded, not trusting his voice.

      “We will write,” his bride said, offering her hand. “I will try to be a good wife to your brother.”

      Noah turned away and faced the final few well-wishers, suddenly unable to look at Sunny. I promise I’ll take care of thee, Sunny, and thy little one. Thee will never want and thee will never be scorned. But I have no love of any kind to give. Four long years of war burned it out of me. I am an empty well.

      * * *

      It was done. Sunny had become a wife. And now in the deep twilight with Noah riding his horse nearby, she rode in the Gabriel’s wagon on the way home to their house. The wedding night loomed over her. How did a wife behave in the marriage bed? Nausea threatened her.

      Oh, Heavenly Father, help me not shame myself.

      She wished her mind wouldn’t dip back into the past, bringing up images from long sordid nights above the saloon. Why couldn’t the Lord just wipe her mind clean, like he’d taken away her sins?

      That’s what she’d been told he’d done, but Sunny often felt like her sins were still very much with her, defining her every step of the way.

      After arriving at the Gabriel home, she managed to walk upstairs to the bedroom she usually shared with the youngest Gabriel sister. She now noted that fresh white sheets had been put on the bed for tonight, her last night in this house. She stood in the room, unable to move.

      Constance entered. “Thee will want to nurse Dawn before bed.”

      Sunny accepted her child, sat in the rocking chair and settled the child to her.

      Constance sat on the edge of the bed and smiled. “We are very happy that thee has found a good husband.”

      Sunny didn’t trust her voice. She smiled as much as she could and nodded.

      “Each man and woman must learn how to be married on their own. It cannot be taught. I have known Noah from his birth. He was a sweet child and is an honest man. Adam and I had no hesitation in letting thee marry him.”

      Sunny heard the good words but couldn’t hold on to them. She was quaking inside.

      “The only advice I will give thee is what is given in God’s word. ‘Submitting yourselves one to another in the fear of God.’ And ‘Let not the sun go down upon your wrath.’”

      Sunny nodded, still unable to speak, unable to make sense of the words. Then the sweet woman carried Dawn away to spend the night in their room. Before Constance left she said, “When thee is ready, open the door for thy husband.”

      As Sunny went through the motions of dressing for bed, she experienced the same penned-in feeling that had overwhelmed her at fourteen when her mother had died. A week later, penniless and with no friends in the world other than her mother’s, Sunny had taken her mother’s place upstairs in the saloon. At this memory Sunny’s stomach turned. That horrible first night poured through her mind and she fought the memories back with all her strength.

      That was the past. Living away from the saloon, surrounded by the Gabriels’ kindness, had begun softening her, stripping away the hard shell that had protected her from the pain, rejection and coarse treatment she’d endured.

      It won’t be like that. This is Noah, who called me sweet and kind and who has married me. Being with him will feel different. But how could he want her after she’d been with so many others?

      From across the hall, Sunny heard Dawn whimper. She quieted, waiting to see if her child needed her.

      Dawn made no further sound and Sunny took a deep breath. A new image appeared in her mind—her little girl in a spotless pinafore running toward a white schoolhouse, calling