Chapter 4

This has to be a nightmare, Victoria thought. She was terrified. Not only did he not bother to shave, but his attire was unsuitable for a groom. He had on a long camel-colored coat with a white shirt and reddish-brown chaps that made him look like he had just got done rounding up a hurdle on the ranch. This cannot be happening. She followed the others to the horses and carts waiting in the rear of the station. Apparently, the older women felt the same way as she did because they both glued themselves to each side of her. She felt a little relieved, knowing that she would be riding with her party.

The man grabbed her by her waist so quickly that she thought her knees had buckled again. “The carts are for the guest; you’ll be riding with me to the church on my horse.”

“What do you mean she will be riding with you and on a horse? Back in my day, it was bad luck for the groom to see the bride before the wedding!” said Ruby.

“Winston, you must stop this. It isn’t enough that you didn’t tell her, and now this br

…

I mean, the fellow is breaking tradition!” Delores shouted.

“Well, see, Mr. Hurston, I kind of failed to inform Miss Jameson of the circumstances due to something unexpected coming up,” Winston stammered out.

The man glared down at him with his hand still on Victoria’s waist. Victoria bit her lip to keep from screaming out bloody murder and running. It was as if God heard. The sky opened up as the first raindrop hit the ground. The carts at least had covers to keep them somewhat dry. There was no way he would make her ride on a horse in the rain.

“Look, I only agreed to this because I was assured things would be done my way, so I suggest you, the two women who have so much to say, and their husbands get in the carts and head to the church. As far as you, Julius, I advise you stay the hell out of my sight for the next three months and then be on your merry way,” he said, even though the rain was starting to fall harder.

Winston backed down and then turned and got in the first cart. Julius joined him with a smirk on his face. Even though the ladies continued to protest, their husbands forced them into the seats, and off they went.

Victoria was shaking in her boots; enough was enough. She yanked his hand off her waist and turned to face him. “How dare you? It’s raining, and I have on a wedding dress. I know this is just a fabrication, but that’s just for us. There is a whole church, not to mention a man of God, waiting for us to say I do. How can you possibly expect them to react when they see us get off a horse in the rain? Isn’t it enough that you look as if you just robbed a bank?” she shouted, happy to be getting her frustration out.

He just stood and stared at her. How she wished he would respond and stop looking at her with those odd-colored eyes. She watched the rain roll off the brim of his hat. She put her hands on her hips and continued her speech, “I know you don’t love me. You didn’t even know me until a few moments ago, but I don’t know you either. So could you please stop acting like a savage just long enough for us to get married!”

She waited for a reaction. She wasn’t one to raise her voice, but she felt that it was the only way to get him to listen. He slowly reached up and grabbed his hat and then set it roughly on top of her head. He then proceeded to scoop her up in his arms against her protests and started walking towards a man holding the reins of a black horse. He stunned her to silence. He roughly handed her to the man and heaved himself onto the horse’s saddle. She was then handed back to the man as he positioned her sideways onto his horse without a single word.

The rain continued to fall, and she could feel her dress molding itself to her skin. She reached up her hand to give him a good slap of sense, but he caught her hand in midair.

“Look, lady, I don’t give a damn where you come from or what people think of me. I could care less about the equality that fool Winston speaks of. I’m in it for the money and the money only,” he said sharply.

“What money?” she asked.

He didn’t answer; he simply kicked the sides of the horse and gave a command, and off they went, galloping into the heart of the storm. The hat may have spared what was left of her dignity by shielding the tears that fell from her eyes. She tried to ignore the closeness of his chest near her face. She couldn’t see where they were going, and even if she could, she still wouldn’t know if it was the right direction. And the money, she needed to know what money he was talking about. She heard the boom of thunder and jumped. If he hadn’t had her cradled in between his chest and the horse’s neck, she was pretty sure she would have been tossed upside down on the ground at the speed he was going. He didn’t flinch or stop to ask her if she was okay; he just kept going.

“Asshole!” she shouted as her cheeks burned from using the unladylike term even though she knew he didn’t hear her. She wondered where the other ones were and if they were driving themselves crazy about her whereabouts. She closed her eyes tightly and said a little prayer for herself and the others.

He looked down at the top of his hat. This girl had no clue what she had gotten herself into. He had a feeling about the Winston character, and seeing that Julius was a part of their party confirmed his feelings. If it wasn’t for his grandmother’s dying request, he would have ridden off into the hills a long time ago. Things were not going to change anytime soon. Clinton and his boys had that entire county scared as hell to spit without asking, yet learning how to read so they could try to vote in the next election. As far as those bastards were concerned, all a colored was good for was picking good cotton. He focused his eyes back on the trail. The church was not too far from the station; he just decided to take the long way. The rain was beginning to let up, and the church was in sight. He yanked on the reins to get the horse to speed up. The girl, despite all her protests and name-calling, was holding on to his waist with all her might.