Thomas loved going to Charleston, South Carolina. He liked the busy and bustling city as it was more entertaining than being on the farm every day. He loved the farm, of course, but the city gave him a thrill. Being fifteen, he was now allowed to leave his Aunt Charlotte's house for a little while every day. On this particular afternoon, Thomas was walking around the market. Gabriel was off at a stall speaking to Anne Howard. If he remembered correctly, she had been Gabriel's first crush when he was eleven years old. He didn't begrudge his brother his decision to stay behind and speak with her. He felt more like an adult when he was by himself, anyway. As Thomas strolled past the butcher shop, he stopped as he recognized the man stepping out onto the street.
"Mr. Archer?"
The elder man turned and spotted the boy. He limped on his wooden leg to meet Thomas.
"Ah, Thomas Martin. How are you, boy?"
Thomas frowned. The man's face looked concerned and he had worry lines on his forehead.
"I'm rather well, but are you, Sir? You look…"
Mr. Archer sighed and rubbed his forehead with his hand.
"I must look terrible. To be honest with you, I can't handle the farm anymore even with Rebecca's help. The only chance I stand is to have her married off. It's the only way to keep us in a house. My land is so small now as I've been selling it out, but with South Carolina's joining the war, I am having a hard time doing anything more. If she marries, then at least she'll be taken care of and I know the dear would take care of me as well. I feel horrible about it and when I suggested this nasty situation to her she only smiled and nodded, telling me she understood. If I had my way she'd have better."
Thomas looked back at the butcher shop. Through the window he could see Mr. Hamforth, a heavy set man with more belly than anything else, slamming his meat cleaver down on the counter. He cringed at the sight and looked back at Mr. Archer.
"You plan to marry her off to Mr. Hamforth?"
Mr. Archer licked his lips and looked back at the shop.
"He's the only man willing."
"He's three times her age!"
He gave the young boy a sympathetic look.
""Tis not strange. Many men marry much younger wives. More children and a stronger help around the house. Believe me, if I had any other option, I'd take it."
"Where is Rebecca?"
"With her cousin. We're staying with my sister while we're here. Heading back tomorrow like most of the people here. Sorry about this, Thomas, but I must be moving along."
With a nod, he turned and began walking down the street. Thomas glanced back at Mr. Hamforth's shop. He thought for a moment before running up the street.
"Mr. Archer!"
Rebecca waited by the door like her father had requested. They'd only just gotten back from Charleston, yet her father told her that her future husband would be coming by to make everything formal and then official. She sighed and leaned her back against the wall beside the front door. She did not want to get married yet. Especially not to someone so much older than herself. Her heart skipped a beat when she heard a knock on the door. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply, calming herself. Opening the door, she deflated slightly. Benjamin and Thomas Martin were standing in the doorway.
"Oh, hello, Mr. Martin. Hello, Thomas. Uh, give me a moment."
She walked to her father's study and peeked in. He was writing down a few things at his desk.
"Papa, Mr. Martin and one of his sons is here. Should I let them in?"
Her father dropped his pen and hobbled up out of his seat and moved to the door.
"Of course you should!"
She blinked at him and followed him back to the front door. Smoothing down her baby blue dress, she cleared her throat. Before she could let them in, her father reached out a hand to Mr. Martin.
"Thank you for this, Benjamin. Really, you have no idea how much of a help this is. Come in, come in. Let's talk in the living room. Right this way."
As they stepped inside, Rebecca threw Thomas a confused expression, but he just gave her a small smile and gestured with his hand for her not to worry. She shuffled into the kitchen and made tea while listening in on the conversation occurring in the living room. Her stomach flipped with nervousness. She prayed that it was not Benjamin Martin she was marrying. What a way to be related to your best friends!
"Now, Thomas, I want to make sure that you want to go through with this," she heard her father tell the boy seriously," This is not something you can back out of at anytime."
She heard Thomas pause, but when he spoke, he was adamant.
"I have discussed everything with my father. I am committed to my decision."
"So you truly wish to marry my daughter?"
"That is my sincerest attempt."
The eavesdropping girl dropped the tray of teacups on the counter with a clatter. Nothing broke, but the teacups rattled against each other. Dashing into the living room, she grabbed Thomas's wrist and dragged him out of his seat.
"Pardon us for a moment please."
"Rebecca! " Thomas protested.
He was pulled out of the living room; out the front door, and out to the tree they had climbed millions of times when they were small. She swung around and turned to face her friend. He was giving her his signature look. Serious. She self-consciously patted down her light brown hair that she had worn down for the day on her father's request. He'd said it made her look like her mother. She believed it as she had many of her father's facial features and they stood out when her hair was up.
"Thomas, what is going on? You did not tell my father you would marry me did you?"
He gave her a sly look, a slight smirk on his face.
"Maybe I did…"
The teenage girl raised an eyebrow and glared at him. Thomas sighed and looked back at the house.
"Yes, Rebecca, I did. I met your father at the market yesterday coming out of the butcher shop. He told me everything and then I just…I told him I'd marry you."
She blinked at him, her jaw hanging slightly loose.
"You just…randomly decided then and there? Thomas, you've never found me to be the marriageable type! I doubt that opinion has changed in all this time!"
Thomas gave her an exasperated expression.
"Listen. You're father was going to make you marry Mr. Hamforth-"
"Eeugh…"
"So, I figured you are better off with me and well, you're not completely a boy…anymore."
She pouted at him, insulted.
"Oh, thanks…"
"That was supposed to be a complement?"
The two sighed. They stood quietly for a moment before Thomas looked up at her.
"Look, I talked everything over with my father. We won't get married till we are least seventeen and my father is going to support your father's farm so that you don't end up with nowhere to live. Or at least your father, since technically you would live with us otherwise. It's better this way for both you and your father."
Rebecca clenched her skirts in her hand. She looked up at Thomas with sad eyes.
"I don't want you throwing away your life to help us, Thomas. I don't."
He smiled and put a hand on her hair. She grunted in protest, worried about her hair, but looked up at him.
"Honestly? There was no one I was interested in so this doesn't bother me."
"But in the future…"
"Rebecca, would you rather I bed you or Mr. Hamforth?"
The young girl blushed profusely and looked away from Thomas. He cleared his throat and retracted his hand from her head.
"I-I'd have to say you…" she replied, quietly.
Thomas held his hand out to her and she looked up at him.
"Let's go make this official, shall we?"
Rebecca hesitated for a moment, but she took his hand and let him lead her inside. By that evening, she was officially Thomas Martin's fiancée.