To Fangirlforlife02, I wanted to answer your question earlier, but your account isn't set up for me to reply to your reviews. For Leigh, I had at one point pictured him as a male rhubarb, but I've also considered him being played by either one of the musician scallions (like in Princess and the Popstar) or Scallion #1. In any case, I leave it up for readers to imagine how they want.
With a last crank, the well's bucket was within reach, and Ike unhooked it. He filled up his canteen, hanging the strap across his chest, and took his lantern up again. He started off with no destination in mind, except "anywhere but the house."
The house was too quiet without Mama. The maid didn't dust with the same vigor; the cook did not sing as he fixed up grub, and Big Daddy… Ike reckoned his father had not ever experienced anything close to this sadness, except when Big Daddy had to send away Ish, Ike's half-brother.
And Daddy thinks a wife will put a bandaid on my heart?
Ike pushed away the bitter thought. His dad meant well; before Ike was born, Big Daddy had planned to leave all his possessions to a favorite servant since he had no heirs. Big Daddy wanted to make sure Ike did not have to face the scenario — that, and he wanted Ike to have a gal he got along with, the way Big Daddy had with Mama.
His contemplative journey took him behind the house, to a place where he had been visiting frequently: the family cemetery. The lantern beams fell upon the bed rocks stretched out in front of the tombstone with Mama's name on the front. On either side of the tombstone sat a small, flowering cactus, topped with yellow blossoms which Mama had always favored.
Ike laid his lantern down and straightened a few rocks which had fallen away from the pile, likely by some critter. A movement made Ike lift his eyes, and he saw two swinging wagon lights in the distance, coming from the east. At once, he recognized it as Big Daddy's own buckboard, which Eliezer had left in town to wait for his return trip.
My future bride is on that wagon, he thought with a funny feeling in his chest. A few days prior, Eliezer had sent a telegram with only two words: GOT HER.
No mention of her personality. No list of her likes or dislikes. No warnings about whether she was a bad cook or talked with her mouth full or snored like a sledgehammer. Ike would not know his future mate from Eve if she appeared before him, and Eliezer had not even told them her name.
Picking up his lantern with a sigh, Ike started toward the road.
Stepping out of the train at their last stop, Becky had never felt air more hot or dry in her whole life. Debbie, who had accompanied her from Spinachusetts, had run promptly to the nearest pump and wet her handkerchief to cool Becky's glistening forehead.
"Like an oven," Debbie declared, fanning herself, "and it's almost sunset, too!"
"I'm sure we'll get used to it," Becky said wisely. Outside of the one-street town, desert sands stretched in all directions, dotted with tall, green saguaro cacti and tumbleweeds. The horizon laid flat, occasionally broken by reddish mesas. Compared to New England, Becky felt like she had stepped into a completely new world.
She found it beautiful, despite the heat.
Mercifully, Big Daddy's buckboard was waiting in the public stables where Eliezer had left it, and the five of them loaded on, with Becky, Debbie, Tom and Harry squeezed in between the luggage. Eliezer lit the wagon lights and gave the reins a flick, and the wooden horses squeaked forward. Ever doting, Debbie held a parasol over Becky's head to shield her from the setting sun.
"Phew! The wind's like a giant hair dryer," the pear winced as a breeze teased about them.
"But just look at those colors," Becky pointed out in amazement, studying the bright orange canvas covered with pink clouds. "They'd be so much fun to paint."
"As long as your paints don't dry out in this heat, dear," Debbie snarked. "And the horizon is all dusty and hazey."
"Once we get you in some shade, you'll like it a lot more, I reckon, Debbie," Becky laughed.
The crescent moon had risen above the mesas before Eliezer finally called back to them, "There's the Okie-Dokie Corral now."
Becky rolled up onto her knees, peeking over the driver's seat at the land ahead.
In the moonlight an artistically unfinished split-rail fence marked the beginning of the residential property, with an opening large enough for a wagon to roll through. A wooden board with three planks was mounted above the entrance. As the wagon drew closer, Becky could just make out hand-painted letters, faded from the sun, which read, OKIE-DOKIE CORRAL. Beyond that, a two-story wooden house stood, with the downstairs windows lit with gas lamps. A sheltered porch wrapped around three sides of the building, offering shade. On one side, white sheep leapt or grazed on bales of grass within a corral. A few cacti, here and there, offered a lush color against the sandy tones.
Her new home…
Becky swallowed hard, then turned to Eliezer. "Exactly when was Big Daddy… and Mr. Ike… planning on having the wedding?"
"Probably when the circuit preacher rides back into town," Eliezer replied, "unless you wanted something sooner?"
Becky blushed and settled quickly against Debbie.
They followed the desert path until they reached the main gate, and Becky spotted a lantern moving toward them. In its light, she could make out a hopping green figure in a cowboy hat. From this distance, he looked like a cucumber or a zucchini.
Becky pointed her fan toward the vegetable. "Who is that man coming toward us?"
Eliezer broke into a chuckle.
"I reckon that there is Master Ike," said Mr. Eliezer, shooting her a knowing smile, "Big Daddy's boy himself."
Becky's eyes widened, and for half a second, she was rooted to the floorboards, goggling at the man who was going to be her husband. Then her senses returned, and she dove for her luggage. Rummaging through her travel trunk, she unearthed a veil and draped it over her hat, hiding her face. Her heart thundered inside her, growing faster the nearer Ike approached.
The cucumber met them twenty yards from the house, tipping his felt hat. His gaze shot curiously to Becky's veiled face before he turned to greet his servant.
"Glad to have you home safe, Eliezer," he smiled. He had a warm voice, Becky thought: a little nasally, but not in an uncomfortable way.
"Glad to be home safe," Eliezer returned, and Becky could almost hear him smirking. "Need a lift back to the house, Master Ike?"
"I'd be much obliged," he said. His large eyes went again to the silent lady in the back, and he tugged on his neckerchief. "…Iffin' you'd be kind enough to introduce me to our company, Eliezer."
Becky's face blazed beneath her veil from more than just the lingering desert heat. Eliezer turned on the seat, bowing his head to indicate each of the newcomers.
"That would be Miss Becky and her nurse, Miss Debbie."
"Howdy do?" Ike greeted with an incline of his head.
Becky could only manage an awkward, seated curtsy.
"Pleased to meet you," Debbie jumped to her rescue. "We've heard a lot about you, Mr. Ike."
"Is that so?" Ike replied, but he kept his eyes on Becky.
He seemed to be burning to say something that would break the ice, which made her feel a little better. At least she wasn't the only one feeling shy in this important introduction.
"Not to interrupt, Boss," Eliezer spoke up with a sly expression, "but maybe we should get your bride outta the night air?"
"Good point," Ike said quickly, ducking his head and climbing up onto the seat beside Eliezer. "You ladies will probably wanna rest and get some supper."
Two seconds later, they parked beside the porch. Tom and Harry hopped out first and turned to help the women to the ground, but Ike had already swung himself off the wagon and offered to lift Becky down. His invisible grasp took hold of her small waist, and her heart all but leapt into her throat. He lifted her as though she were only a feather and gently lowered her to the sandy earth. Becky lifted her eyes, glad her veil hid the silly spasms of her face.
"Th-Thank you," she said through a ripple of giggles.
"My pleasure, ma'am." For a heartbeat or two, he studied her, as if trying to discern the shape of her face through the veil, but he quickly turned his attention to the luggage.
"Master Ike," Debbie suddenly said as she passed him a hatbox, "when is the circuit preacher supposed to come to town?"
Ike lifted his hat thoughtfully.
"Let's see… Parson ought to be here in about… three days?" His lips moved in silent counting before he nodded an affirmative. "Yep, three days."
"Doesn't give us a lot of time to prepare," Debbie noted.
Becky ducked her head and hurried after her betrothed into the house. Carrying her smaller luggage, Ike led the way with the lantern up a dark staircase, right up to a pretty room that obviously had been meant for a woman. Perfume bottles and doilies lined an elegant vanity, and decorative pillows formed a dainty pile on the bed. On the walls were sepia-toned photographs of an elderly couple. They were almost identical, except the first had a beaming baby cucumber on the woman's lap, and he aged with each consecutive image until a full-grown Ike sat between his parents.
"This was Ma's room," Ike explained as he laid a bag on the tufted armchair in the corner. He nodded to the smiling older lady in the nearest picture frame. "That's her. …That was her."
Becky gave him a sympathetic look before respectfully studying the photograph next to her. The elderly Miss Sarah displayed all the class and dignity of a princess in her kind eyes. Ike looked completely at ease next to her in all of the paragraphs, which made Becky think they had had a good relationship.
A man who respects his mama is probably going to respect his wife, she contemplated.
While Debbie opened a smaller bag to start unpacking, Ike lit the gaslights for them. Becky drew closer to him, working up her nerve to say something kind.
"Your mama was very beautiful," she managed to say without a tremor. "I'm sorry for your loss."
"She would have liked to have seen… this…" He made a rotating gesture with his head in a woeful attempt to articulate their situation. He promptly pulled his hat down. "…Mighty sorry we don't have a lady around to make y'all feel welcome."
Becky smiled at him kindly, even though he could not see it. She stepped toward him, inclining her head.
"You've been hospitable so far, Mr. Ike. Thank you."
A hint of a sad smile formed on his green mouth, revealing a glimpse of his single tooth. Becky had a sudden, unexplainable wish to forget propriety and offer him a hug; she herself was unlikely to see her own mother again, and she could only imagine the raw pain he must have been enduring, which probably wasn't helped by a sudden arranged marriage. For his sake, Becky resolved then to be as understanding as possible.
Huffing and puffing echoed from down the hall, drawing their attention from the other, and Ike drew back in time to let Tom and Harry heave in the trunks.
"I'll tell Big Daddy you're here, and we'll rustle you up some good eatin's," Ike promised. He tipped his hat as though to go, but he stayed to oversee his servants arrange the ladies' things, and was the last of the men to leave the room.
The next three days passed pleasantly for Ike, even with the ache of his mother's passing looming over him. Once Becky got over her initial shyness, she jumped right into life on the ranch. For their first supper together, they discovered they liked a lot of the same comic books, and they stayed at the table long after dessert comparing and contrasting their favorite characters. Ike was genuinely surprised how late it was when Big Daddy finally suggested he let Becky skedaddle off to bed.
The next day, Becky rose early, even before the ranch hands, and whipped up the best blueberry pancakes which Ike had ever tasted. She spent the morning finding ways to be useful, like mending Big Daddy's mittens and reorganizing the pantry. Ike soon learned Becky had a fondness for animals and introduced her to each of his sheep by name. She learned how to shear wool, which was washed and turned into yarn to sell in town, and she thoughtfully applied sunscreen to the now bare sheep. In the evenings, she helped him hunt for pretty stones to add to his mother's grave, showing a gentle care and respect to both him and his grief.
Throughout it all, Becky wore that veil of hers whenever Ike was near her, enduring the sweltering heat in the name of propriety. Once Ike turned a corner while Becky was pumping water with her veil up, and he caught a glimpse of her red hair and an earring before she hid her face from sight. When he asked Eliezer, Tom and Harry about what Becky looked like, they could only describe her in vague terms.
"Plum pretty," Harry said, before he asked if he could have a plum from the larder.
"Almost as nice as a pizza," from Tom. "Speaking of pizza, can I have the rest of your lunch, Boss?"
"If I had hands, I'd give her two thumbs up," Eliezer said before he shot Ike a smirk. "You won't be disappointed, kiddo."
The evening before the parson was supposed to ride into town, Ike asked Becky to go on a walk with him around the property and enjoy the gorgeous sunset. She accepted with a hint of that giggle he enjoyed more and more and took along her lacy parasol, looking almost like a paper doll Ike had seen in a magazine once. Debbie followed the chatting couple as a chaperone but maintained a respectful distance.
Ike took Becky to his favorite spot, a rocky vantage point along the ranch's only stream which had patches of vegetation, including a few desert flowers. A towering mesa stood along the opposite bank, sending stretching shadows over the sand contrasting with the golden sunbeams while also allowing the two lovers to enjoy the painted sky from its cooler shelter.
"Just look at those purple clouds with the orange rims," Becky observed as Ike helped her onto a boulder. "Those are my favorite kinds."
"I ordered them especially for you," Ike joked.
Becky gave a happy sigh. "I could get used to stuff like this."
Ike could tell she meant it, and it made him gulp without meaning to. In a little more than twenty-four hours, all this would be permanent, and there would be no need for Debbie to watch their every move.
Coughing, Ike spun away from her, scanning the rocky ledge, and he soon found a bush of sage, growing stubbornly from a crack in the stone. He hesitated, casting a longing glance back at his veiled bride, then marshaled up his nerve to pluck a few of the purple blossoms. He strode as tall as he could back to her, but the simple turning of her head to look at him made him avert his eyes.
He held out the flowers, wishing he could say something more attractive, more masculine than a squeaky "For you." Mercifully, she did not laugh in his face but actually seemed pleased as she accepted his gift. She lifted her veil just enough to breathe in the fragrance of her nosegay before she used the stems to pat the spot on the boulder beside her. Ike obeyed, feeling his heart chugging like the steam-powered pumps for the local mines.
"O-Only one more day, huh?" he ventured to say.
"After sunset, right?" she murmured back.
"It'll be a lot cooler that way."
"Can't get married if we all get heatstroke."
They both chuckled weakly and fell silent. Becky at least had the option of studying her flowers instead of speaking, but Ike could only adjust his hat and bandana so many times before it grew awkward.
At length, he thinned his lips and cleared his throat, wanting to approach a subject that had been plaguing his mind off and on since he had learned he was to be married soon. When she faced him, he almost wished he had his own veil to find his awkward expressions.
"Miss Becky, I know you came out all this way to… be with me." His face warmed. "But— But what I want to know is… do you want to get hitched right now? Or did you want to wait until the next time the parson comes this way?"
She gave her parasol a tacit twirl. She lifted her veiled face, surveying at the variegated horizon peeking from behind the mesa.
"Well, Mr. Ike," she said slowly, "I must think of my reputation."
Ike coughed into his bandana. "True."
"On the other hand, I appreciate you asking," she said. "I'd never have imagined I would have such a short courtship."
"Incredibly short," Ike conceded, wiggling his green frame.
Silence fell over them again, broken only by a hawk calling to its mate. Ike lifted his eyes, watching the gliding pair drifting through the darkening sky.
Funny. He had read somewhere some hawks mated for life, but how exactly did they decide the other was the one for them? They did not have matchmaking relatives to throw them together; they could not even talk and find out the others' hobbies or favorite ice-cream flavor. What in their animal brains said, "Yep, I can love you for the rest of my days"?
Maybe there's just something God puts in them that just knows, Ike pondered. He glanced at Becky. Although he had no clue what she looked like, he was already enjoying her company. If they could stay friends like this, they would probably get along like a bear and honey.
He cleared his throat. "M-Miss Becky?"
"Yes, Mr. Ike?"
Ike pulled his hat brim down. "Before Eliezer went East to find you, Big Daddy had already told him that… if you didn't want to marry me, then Eliezer was free from his promise to get me a bride."
"Yes, I think he mentioned that," she replied quietly.
"Well…" Ike squared his shoulder. "That option still stands, as far I go. If you change your mind before the wedding, there won't be any hard feelings, okay?"
She turned, regarding him.
Ike ducked his head. "I… want you to want… me. So if you d-don't…"
She lowered her parasol, laying the rod against his side, which halted his stammering.
"You're a good man to give me a way out," she said, "but I don't reckon I'm going to take it."
Ike raised his head, hopeful. "No?"
She shook her head, and he got the impression she was smiling.
"If God designed us to be together," she went on, "I think — I really think — I can trust my heart to you, Ike."
Ike.
She said it so casually, so affectionately. He felt a warmth distinct from the desert sun spread over him. He tipped his hat to her, not quite meeting her veiled gaze.
"I'm much honored, ma'am."
The next morning when the parson rode in, Big Daddy had Eliezer waiting for him in town to tell him about the wedding they needed performed that evening.
By the time the parson arrived, a pavilion had been set up for the ceremony. Ike and his father stood with the parson beneath it as the last rays of the sun slipped behind the horizon. Almost immediately, the piano in the parlor started up a wedding march.
Hardly a second later, Becky appeared at the backdoor with Debbie. A white veil had replaced her normal one, but it still did not provide much details of her features in the lantern light. Pulling out her hanky to dab her eyes, Debbie escorted her charge to her waiting groom.
Ike's throat constricted so much, he barely managed to say, "I do."
Becky's voice was more like a breath of air as she whispered, "I do," in her turn.
At last Ike was permitted to raise the veil.
He nearly dropped it.
"Oh, wow!" he gasped, gawking at his bride. An angel seemed to be standing next to him, with eyes full of shy affection just for him. "You're plum pretty!"
Becky broke into a pleased giggle, ducking her head.
"...And that's how Grandpa Ike married Granny Becky," Little Joe finished, gazing at the last droplets in his root beer glass.
His riveted audience began to applaud, shaking slightly in lieu of moving hands.
"That was a nice story," Miss Natalie smiled.
"A match made in Heaven if I ever heard of one," declared Mrs. Rhubarb.
"Would you travel by train to find your bride too, Mr. Joe?" Cindy suddenly asked.
"Shush, child!" her mother chided, her smile vanishing with prompt mortification. "Mind your manners."
"It's okay," Little Joe assured them, chuckling sheepishly. "And, no, Cindy. I wasn't planning on hopping on a train any time soon. Got too much to do in Dodgeball City, getting ready for the seven years of famine and all."
"Dodgeball City is fortunate to have you in charge of things," Miss Natalie remarked, giving Little Joe a look of admiration and something somewhat like relief.
He smiled back at her, aware of how his heart thundered like horse hooves across a plain. He quickly raised his glass to his lips only to remember there wasn't much left. In doing so, he lifted his head back enough to see the grandfather clock in the corner, and he quickly stood.
"Oh, look at the time," he said, retrieving his sewing gear. "I'm supposed to meet with the mayor later."
Miss Natalie rose as well, picking up her fan. "I'll see you to the door."
She led him to the wide entrance hall, which was cooler than when Little Joe first arrived, but Miss Natalie fanned her face, causing little strands of her red hair to shift in the miniature breeze. Little Joe thought her hair looked awfully soft, but he quickly dismissed his observation, grabbing his large, white cowboy hat off the hat rack. Laying it on his green head, he promptly tipped it toward her as she opened the door.
"I hope you won't find me nosey, Mr. Joseph," she said before he could cross the threshold, "but did your grandparents really get married after only knowing each other a short time?"
"As surely as I'm standing in front of you," he smiled.
"Fancy that."
The contemplative look in her soft eyes made him pause. A stirring arose his chest, and he quickly fiddled with his hat.
"I guess when God is involved in a marriage," he mumbled, "it gets along much better than otherwise."
"Good point." She tilted her head, reflecting. "I reckon then… any two people could get along… even if they've known each other a short time… if God brought them together."
"Reckon so," he returned, feeling a little tongue tied all of a sudden.
For a moment, they held each other's gaze in silence. It occurred to Little Joe that standing wordlessly in a lady's door wasn't the sort of thing that made the best impression, but Miss Natalie did not seem to mind. If anything, nothing in her warm eyes said she wanted him to leave.
But leave, he must, if he wanted to make his appointment with the mayor. Clearing his throat, Little Joe pulled the brim of his hat further down.
"Well…"
She lowered her eyes. "Well, thank you for entertaining us with your family history. It was a very pretty story."
"Oh, I got loads of stories," he grinned, beginning to recover the control of his senses which seemed to wander away whenever he was next to her for too long. "Like when Big Daddy Abe and Granny Sarah came to Dodgeball City, and the mayor didn't know they were married, or how Grandpa Ike reaped in famine, or the time my pa had to hightail it from the ranch when my uncle, Esau, was mad at him, or how Pa had to work fourteen years for my other grandpa before he could marry Ma."
"Sounds mighty interesting." She gave her fan a few flaps. "Maybe you could come by again and tell us some of them."
"Maybe." Little Joe adjusted his hat. "Would it be fine to call on you tomorrow?"
She covered her lips with her fan, but Little Joe caught a glimpse of a demure smile.
"Fine as frog's hair," she murmured.
Little Joe beamed. "See you then!"
They shared one last look before Little Joe had to tear his eyes away, lest he be late. Even so, he kept glancing over his shoulder as he rode his wooden horse back to town, and each time he could see Miss Natalie on the porch, waving her handkerchief until he was out of sight.
THE END
A/N: My parents met online, wrote to each other for two months, met in real life (with my step-dad proposing that first night), got married two weeks later, and have been married for over two decades now. While I'm not advocating quick romances for everyone, they can exist and be successful, if God is involved.