Note: I raised the number of wedding guests to over 20. I had earlier written there would be about 10 but I have edited. Nevertheless, if you read before I edited the number, this is to inform you.
I waited nervously alongside Hoss. Mrs. Shaughnessy sat at the harmonium that Hoss and Joe had managed to move from her house to ours. She was waiting to play music when Mariette would first appear at the top of the stairs so she kept looking anxiously at the festooned staircase. Hoss said that he hoped I appreciated the fact that he "near 'bout broke my back carrying that dadblasted thing since Joe here weren't no help at all 'cept to tell me not to step in a cow pie in the yard!" It seems that Hoss had carried the harmonium from the Widow Shaugnessy's house to our buckboard bent over like Atlas with a pump organ instead of the world on his back and shoulders.
Roy Coffee and Dr. Paul Martin were among the wedding guests as well as our closest neighbors and Old Will, our past foreman who couldn't really stand anymore. He sat on one of the chairs nearly blind—his eyes having a milky look about them. Hoss stood by me, asking me why I was so nervous. And Joe teased me by whispering some obscene remarks that I won't repeat here—you may not think they were funny but Hoss and I did and it helped relieve my edginess. Pa kept looking at us disapprovingly for laughing as he used to when we were young and acting up in church.
It seemed that so much had already happened that morning and it wasn't even 1:00, the time of the ceremony. My thoughts swirled as waited, thinking about Mariette—I hadn't had time to talk to her before the ceremony—had followed Charity's advice about not embarrassing Mariette further by mentioning what she had seen. I had hoped that Charity had spoken to her though. Things had become so much better between Charity and Mariette that to have their budding friendship deteriorate so quickly just because I couldn't wait to take Charity was a paramount worry. But if Mariette decided not to show downstairs, well, that would be the way it was. I found myself actually hoping Mariette would plead a headache and not attend rather than my having to face her. I didn't want to see the disapproving look in her eyes although I shouldn't have cared. But I did care.
Pastor Richards stood waiting as well, chatting with my father until the organ resounded, its notes full and deep. Mrs. Shaughnessy, grinning, began an introduction to The Bridal Chorus. I looked up and Mariette stood at the top of the stairs, Charity, a few steps behind holding a bouquet of roses. Mrs. Arnett had provided them from her garden; I don't know why I feel it's necessary to mention that but, you see, we had everyone's support. The world was benevolent and I was so much in love.
Charity wore no veil—she had no desire to, she said, and I told her that it would be a shame to hide her beauty anyway. She wore an ivory dress that she and Mariette had found at the dressmaker's in town. They had actually gone shopping together—at least I think they did. I really had no interest in the clothes but Mariette wore a new dress as well—it was pink. Pa had paid for it despite Mariette's protest but both I and Pa had insisted, and she looked lovely holding a smaller bouquet of roses. I think they were pink roses but I only glanced briefly at Mariette-Charity had all my attention. It was only later that Joe remarked that he should have known something was wrong because Mariette wasn't smiling and seemed to come down the stairs as if walking in her sleep.
Mariette and Charity came down the stairs and I know I was smiling the whole time. Mariette must have stopped next to Pa who stood a few steps away from the pastor and Charity came to me. She was so beautiful—Hoss even whistled low and under his breath said, "Dang, Adam. You're one lucky man—she's beautiful!"
Oh, she was beautiful, transcendent, and I couldn't help myself. When Charity stood beside me and looked up at me, I kissed her.
"Adam, not yet," she said, blushing slightly. "Wait until we've finished saying our vows." But Charity smiled and I heard people chuckling. I just wanted the whole thing to be over with, the cake to be cut and the guests fed so that Charity and I could leave. Our bags were packed and waiting in the back of the buggy. When it was time, Hoss would hitch it up and then drive us to town. I knew Joe had tied old boots and shoes, many donated by our guests, to the back of the buggy. There were also a few pairs of baby shoes, he told me, "because the pastor's wife said that it meant a lot of children."
I had hoped to avoid all the noise and annoyance of a Shivaree and this was my compromise—I allowed the decorating of the buggy to keep Hoss, Joe, all the ranch hands and the other men I knew from banging pots and pans outside our hotel room all night and serenading us with obscene songs. Hoss said that Roy would probably arrest them all for public drunkenness and disturbing the peace anyway for making a ruckus so they were content with the shoes and boots and the tossing of the rice—the only tradition Hop Sing didn't like.
"Waste of food! Humph. Household gods no like wasting food. In hungry days, regret what was wasted. Rice good food—best food." He had frowned when Hoss had pulled a sack of rice out of pantry and said what it was for—to toss at the departing bride and groom, but I explained that it was an American tradition to ensure children and although he still didn't like wasting the rice, Hop Sing only complained under his breath after that.
I was also sure that the ranch hands, after they finished their wedding meal in the bunk house-two huge roast geese, fried potatoes, so many green beans cooked with hogback that it looked like a mountain of green, a yellow cake with white icing and the four bottles of rye whiskey I had presented them-would line the road leaving the Ponderosa, hooting and hollering and shouting things that I didn't dare guess. Charity though, knew none of this and I considered that it would be best to let her be surprised.
I barely remembered exchanging vows—all I could think of was Charity but I managed to slip the ring, a narrow gold band, on her left hand. It had been made from a few nuggets of gold that had been found on the Ponderosa. The jeweler in Carson City had quickly crafted it and measured Charity's finger with a string to get her size and now she wore it as a sign for all to see that she was married—to me. The pastor then announced we were man and wife and I kissed Charity.
The guests rushed us, congratulating us, shaking my hand, kissing the bride and I noticed that Mariette stood back. She had an odd, sad smile on her face. I wondered if it was because our wedding reminded her of her wedding to Jason. This was the very place where she and Jason had vowed their love and suddenly I felt that I shouldn't have pressured Charity to ask Mariette to stand up for her. It had been a bad idea—a mistake. I was sure that Mariette had befriended Charity just to please me and now she was wretched.
I managed to disengage from the throng of people who surrounded us. Charity looked at me as I politely stepped away, wondering where I was going but I only smiled at her. I'm sure her eyes followed me as I went to Mariette.
"I suppose that now that you're married…," she said quietly. "The proper thing to say is congratulations."
"Thank you, Mariette. Thank you for celebrating with us." I bent down to kiss her cheek but she put one hand behind my neck and kissed me on the mouth. Mariette and I had always kissed on the mouth although she never kissed Hoss and Joe on the lips but it never bothered them or me. But for some reason, this time it did. There was something different about this kiss. No, it's wasn't passionate—it was almost an apology.
Charity walked up to us as Hop Sing came out and announced it was time to eat. The people milled over to the table and sideboard where the food lay along with the plates and glasses and silver. I remember thinking that everyone was happy and the sound of laughter mixed with silverware clinking on china plates as background noise. The punch bowl was on the round table across the room and the punch had been spiked with Jamaican rum sent all the way from New Orleans about two years ago. Pa had said at the tie that he wanted to save it for a special day. He remembered it was in the cellar and served it up today. Pa held the ladle as many of the men bellied up to the table proffering their empty cups.
"Mariette," Charity said, "I'm glad you were here—I know it means a lot to Adam as well. I hope that after earlier, I mean that after what…I do apologize. Thank you again—sister." Charity reached out for Mariette and embraced her but I thought it odd that Mariette kept her bouquet between them.
"Hey, Adam," Hoss said as he came up beside me holding a plate filled with food, "that roast pig is goin' fast and it's…"
I heard a pop—a muffled sound and Charity stepped back, releasing Mariette. She let go of her flowers and they dropped to the floor. I looked at them and was puzzled and began to lean down to pick them up but I heard Hoss say, "What the hell?" I looked at my new wife and she had the oddest look on her face. It was one of surprise, of disbelief. Charity looked at me, her mouth open, and then she looked down at the bodice of her dress. There was a spot—a small, red spot—just below her breastbone. Charity shook her head slightly in disbelief and then looked at me-imploring me to do something.
"Charity, what…" Then she just crumpled. I grabbed her before she hit the floor. She was limp, her eyes unfocused, and then I understood because in front of us stood Mariette holding a pearl-handled derringer. At the moment I thought, That's Marie's derringer. She always took it with her when she went riding—Pa had always insisted. Mariette dropped her bouquet to the floor as well and she looked as surprised as Charity at what had happened. Mariette glanced at the small gun she held and then lifted her hand and put the barrel to her temple. I heard the shattering of a plate beside me and saw Hoss grab Mariette's hand and wrench away the derringer. I remember thinking the gun looked so small in Hoss' huge hand. Mariette sank to her knees, sobbing. And I was undone—Charity had been taken from me in a heartbeat—in a second—a mere sixtieth of a minute. That's all the time it took to destroy what happiness we were finally going to own. In that small particle of time, my whole life had changed—I had changed and things would never be the same.