Author's Notes:

'Trail of Promise' is my contribution to the Literotica Writers Go West event.

All characters engaging in sexual relationships or activities are 18 years old or older.

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Trail of Promise

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Chapter 1

For weary travelers, Jennerville must have seemed like an oasis of ease and relief. It was just west of the continental divide on the final stage of the cross country journey of the Oregon Trail. It wasn't a large town but it was a permanent settlement with the basic yet essential comforts that drew smiles from new arrivals.

It had a church to take a moment in, to say a prayer to thank God for the safe passage.

It had a butcher shop, a bakery, and a general store to replenish supplies, like candles, after the long trek.

A blacksmith shop was on the eastern edge of town for repairs, with stables next door to rest weary horses, or to replace one if the journey proved to be too much for the beast.

The town had a doctor if it wasn't the beasts who'd taken ill.

There was an inn with real beds and a decent kitchen if you were tired of sleeping on a wagon or the ground and had had enough of cooking over a fire.

It even had a bank, with a sheriff and his deputies set up right next door to ensure the bank wasn't too tempting a target.

There were a few other small businesses that had sprung up along the main street. These also catered to the locals and travelers just passing through.

Of course, it also had a saloon to quench your thirst and pretty ladies to quench other appetites.

The Oregon Trail brought the hopeful, the dreamers, and the adventurous to find their destiny on the western edge of the new country. Some never completed the journey. Some weren't ready for the challenge of building a new life in the raw landscape and headed back to the established cities of the east coast. But some, like the folk who lived in the town, settled in and put down roots.

For one of the town's residents, Jennerville offered a second chance to start a new life. Wulf Gunnarsson was the town's blacksmith and was well respected in the business community, for someone with a 'funny accent', and generally liked amongst the people of the town. Standing 6', he was taller than most of his neighbors. He had long blonde hair and a full beard, blue eyes, and a lean body with strong muscles from hard labor. A quiet man, he kept to himself when he could.

Originally from Sweden, he'd left home with his new bride to seek a new life in America. They were both so young but filled with excitement for their big adventure. There was free land to be had just waiting to be farmed. While he'd trained as a blacksmith with his father, he wanted something new. His young bride Leena felt the same.

They'd quickly discovered how difficult that dream was going to be. The new country wasn't as friendly to new arrivals as they'd been led to believe and while their white faces opened doors, their distinct accents often caused them to close once more. They'd stayed with his cousin and his wife in New York City, taking whatever work they could get while they made the arrangements for the next stage in their bold plan.

Their perseverance finally paid off and they found themselves out on the prairies on their own piece of land, struggling to make a go of it.

Once more, they'd found more hardship than they'd expected and the weather hadn't cooperated. At times, it felt like the very country itself didn't want them there.

When Leena became pregnant their hope renewed and they worked harder to establish themselves and prepare for the new arrival.

But life showed its cruelty once more. Wulf returned from the field one day to find Leena's lifeless body on the floor of their home. A miscarriage had taken her life as well as the baby's.

Leena's death destroyed Wulf and he came close to joining his wife in death a few times over the next few days.

A passing wagon train found him sitting outside the cinders of the home he'd built with Leena. He'd given her as good a send off as he could. When the families in the wagon train found out he had blacksmith skills they asked him to join them on their trek to Oregon.

Wanting to distance himself from the pain of Leena's death, he'd packed up his meager belongings and went with them.

When he reached Jennerville, he learned the town's blacksmith needed an apprentice so he took the job. Six months later, the blacksmith was killed in a poker game dispute in the saloon. The townsfolk asked him to take over the business as he was more skilled at the job than the original owner, was easier to deal with, didn't drink or gamble, and had proven to be honest as well.

He also took over the man's meager living quarters which had been built onto the back of the shop.

Eight years later he was still supporting the town's smithing needs.

He'd never remarried though a few women in town had shown interest.

He worked hard, put his money in the bank, and lived modestly. He'd expanded the shop once to support the capacity requirements of the growing town and had taken an apprentice, a young but strong lad who was the third son of the banker.

Wulf tried to keep in touch with his family back in New York City but he worried they thought he was dead. He sent letters occasionally but he'd never received a reply. This didn't stop him from trying though. One was bound to get through!

This fine morning he'd gotten the forge started and prepared for the day's work. His apprentice was keeping watch over the shop as he made his way in town with his most recent letter. He nodded and smiled to the people he passed along the way and entered the town's post office.

"Good morning, Mr. Gunnarsson!" a short, plump man behind the counter said to him with a cheerful smile.

"Good morning, Mr. Dale, Mrs. Dale," he added with a nod to the brunette woman who stepped past her husband behind the counter.

"Good morning," she said as her eyes quickly scanned down his body. She always made him feel uncomfortable.

"Another letter for your cousin?" Mr. Dale asked kindly. He liked the old postmaster and wondered how he'd ended up married to the much younger woman. She was pretty he supposed though her features were sharp and she often wore an expression like she smelled something bad. They'd been married for as long as Wulf had been in Jennerville but they had no children.

"Yes, has there been any letters in response yet?" he asked hopefully.

The old man smiled and raised a finger. "I'll check for you." He moved to the table behind him and his wife slid into his spot at the counter.

"How are you today?" she asked with a smile.

He nodded politely to her. "I'm well, and you?"

She spread her hands to indicate the small shop around them. "I cannot complain."

He couldn't help but think she was.

"The mercantile got a new shipment of that soap you like," she offered and he blinked at her.

"The soap... I like?" Then it came to him. Her younger sister worked next door in the mercantile shop. The woman obviously kept track of which items he preferred.

"Yes, Lisanne was just telling me that you are their best customer for that soap," the woman said, her eyes beginning to wander lazily over his body once more.

"I- it removes the smell of the forge from my skin," he muttered and a shiver went down his spine as her smile widened.

"Excuse me, dear," Mr. Dale said with a sweet smile for his wife. She nodded to him and smiled at Wulf once more before slipping back to allow her husband to move into the spot.

The older man gave him a sad smile. "I'm sorry to say there are no letters for you in the incoming mail. Could your cousin have moved?"

Wulf fought back the disappointment and nodded. "It's possible but I think it unlikely. Their home was large for the rent they paid and well suited to the large family they were working on. No matter, I will try again," he said firmly.

Mr. Dale smiled at him and accepted the new letter. He weighed it and announced the cost. Wulf paid him for the postage and the letter was ready for the mail bag. "Best of luck this time, yes?"

He nodded to the postmaster and gave his wife a small smile before heading out. He had a full day of hot work ahead of him. It was time to get started.

Chapter 2

Marlena Buchholz watched her father nervously from her seat in the back of the wagon. She could see his profile as he sat on the bench driving the weary horses which pulled the wagon. Three days ago, as they stopped for the night, they were robbed by three bandits on horseback. They'd endured so much to get across the country. To be so close to the end of their journey only to have what little wealth they had stolen from them, it was an unbearable cruelty!

Her mother had told her father that they were lucky to be alive. If it hadn't been for the noisy approach of the Clarkson family who were following them, the bandits might have decided on adding rape and murder to their offenses. Instead they rode off with the family's money and jewellery. They were laughing as they disappeared into the evening, one cackling madly like a mentally deficient child.

Since that night however, her father's expression grew grimmer with each passing mile. There was an anger in his eyes, a directionless hate building there. She knew her mother saw it too and she'd tried to talk with him but he wanted nothing to do with her soft words. He would not be calmed this time. The one time he muttered his thoughts aloud, he'd spoken of justice.

Marlena worried about how her father was going to get that but she kept her counsel to herself.

She heard the distant ring of hammer on iron. She knew the sound of a blacksmith's shop from the years they'd spent living on the outskirts of New York City. Her father worked at a number of accounting jobs while they'd been there, each ending with harsh words from her father at his treatment by his seniors in the firms he worked in. Eventually word got around and he couldn't find anyone willing to hire him.

Her father struck upon the rash idea of going to the west coast. Marlena and her mother had seamstress jobs but had to give them up to follow her father on this journey to 'something better'. And here they were in Oregon.

Marlena could have remained behind as she was twenty years old but she had no one but her family and couldn't leave them. Most of her friends had already gotten married and moved on but finding a mate had eluded her. She'd discovered her 5' 10" height and slim build weren't as appealing to men as her more diminutive and curvy friends. Her auburn hair was thick and long. Her friends told her she had pretty brown eyes and nice lips but she should use cosmetics to deemphasize her nose. She had very small breasts and refused to pad her underthings to give the illusion of greater volume as that lie would only lead to disappointment. The last advice her friends gave her was to start lying to men or face life as a spinster. She thought that was very bad advice.

The hammering noise grew louder as they began to see signs of a town.

The shop came into sight and she saw a rough sign painted above the wide doorway. 'BLACKSMITH'. Next to the door, nailed to the wall, was a larger sign in a lovely metalwork frame.

In the center of this frame was painted a name, 'Wulf Gunnarsson'. She guessed at the nationality the owner of that name might claim. She wondered how many generations were required to shake the 'immigrant' status in this country. She'd travelled to America on a ship with her parents and spent years growing up in the large east coast city. At twenty years old now, she barely remembered the country she was born to and had fully adopted the new country as her home but still, she was an immigrant.

They moved past the smith and the large stable built next door with its smell of hay and animals and continued on.

Soon they entered the main street and there were many more people moving about. They stopped in front of the last building in the row, a dress shop, and Marlena's eyes lit up as she took in the lovely color of the fabric in the window.

Her father climbed down then helped her mother step down as well. "Marlena, come with me. Mother, watch the wagon."

"Walter, be calm and be careful," his wife cautioned. He gave her a terse nod and helped his daughter down.

Marlena shared a look with her mother and followed her father down the street. She wondered what he was looking for as he examined the store fronts.

They walked in front of the mercantile shop and her father made a quiet grunt noise and walked up the steps and inside. Marlena followed.

He glanced to her. "Stay here. I must speak with the shop owner," he said.

She nodded to her father and looked around. There was a good variety of items for sale. She glanced over at her father who was in deep conversation with an older man across the counter. The front door opened and a woman with sharp features entered. She gave Marlena a sour look then walked past her to go to the back of the store where a female sales clerk stood.

Marlena wandered, looking at what was being offered but having no money to purchase anything. She stopped by a pile of soap and lifted one to her nose. She'd been expecting a heavy perfume or some medicinal smell but this one smelled very mild and rather nice.

"Another letter?!?" a voice blurted from the back of the store followed by hushing hisses.

Marlena took a quick glance towards the back and saw the sharp featured woman was standing next to a plump, younger version of herself. The older one had an envelope in her hand and she was looking back at Marlena suspiciously. She tucked the envelope into a pocket and walked up to stand before Marlena with hands on hips.

"Listening in on other people's conversations is most rude!" she snapped.

Wide eyed, Marlena shook her head as if she didn't understand. "Sprichst du Deutsch?" she asked innocently.

The woman's sour look returned and she turned her nose up as she walked back to the shop girl who had to be her sister.

"Barbaric!" the sharp one growled to the plump one.

"Ignore her! Read the letter! I can't believe he continues to send them if he never gets one in return," the other exclaimed.

"The man has more hope than sense."

Marlena pretended to look at the items on the counter as she listened in. Normally she would have moved away but she was caught as a witness to a terrible crime. The older sister had obviously stolen someone's mail and seemed to be in the habit of it. She heard the ripping of the envelope and the rustle of sheets of paper unfolding.

"Dear Lucas,

I hope this letter finds you, your wife and your children well. Has your family grown since I last saw you? Have you heard from any of our family in Sweden?

I'm well though I miss you terribly. I'm now living in a town in Oregon called Jennerville which is small, quite lovely in its way, peaceful, and gives my heart a place to recover.

It has been close to nine years since the death of my dearest wife, Leena. There isn't a day that I don't think of her-"

"When is that man going to stop mourning and get on with his life?" the shop worker gasped in frustration.

"When will you finally work up the nerve to tell him you want him?" the older sister hissed in return.

"Sometimes I think you only want me to marry him so you can have him!" the younger sister hissed back.

The two cast their eyes nervously around the store but Marlena had moved a little further away and turned her face from them as their voices carried very well.

"As if you don't want him desperately! Besides, you know very well that the old man I married isn't able to give me a child! You wouldn't refuse my request would you?" the letter thief asked plaintively.

"You know I couldn't! However, sharing that lovely man will be the most difficult thing I do, make no mistake!" the younger woman said with a giggle, causing her sister to titter as well.

"I think Wulf could make a meal of us both!" the older sister finally managed and new giggles erupted.

Marlena had to walk away as the callousness of these women of loose virtues made her stomach ache.

"Marlena we're going!" her father suddenly called out.

"Yes father, I'll be right with you!" she called back clearly and turned her face to watch the two women freeze in shock.

"Barbarians," Marlena said to them then walked away, head held high as she heard them squeak and sputter.

When she joined her father she gave him a worried look. His anger was worse. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing! I must speak with the blacksmith," the man said tersely.

Marlena suddenly wondered if this was the Wulf the women were talking about. Her experience with the dirty and smelly blacksmiths back in New York City certainly didn't lead her to expect this one would be a 'lovely man', as the two women described.

She rushed after her father and cast him a worried glance. His ire was up and she'd never seen him this angry before.

She showed her concern to her mother as they climbed back into the wagon.

"Walter, where are we off to now?" the mother asked.

"Blacksmith. Potentially, the only honest, decent man in town," the father grumbled.

They rode in silence the short distance back to the shop on the edge of town. The wide doors were open and Marlena could see the silhouette of a man swinging a hammer, pounding the glowing hot metal he was working. He certainly looked tall but as to lovely she couldn't say without a better look. She hopped down and made to follow her father again.

"Stay with your mother."

She stopped and watched her father's back as he walked into the shop. She moved to her mother's side. "I'm worried about father. He is not acting like himself," she said softly and her mother followed her eyes inside the shop.

"We should never have made this journey. Your father is not a farmer."

Marlena was surprised at her mother's candor as she'd never spoken out against father before.

They could see the shapes of the two men speaking then they were moving towards them.

Suddenly, Marlena found herself quite in a nervous state. Here was a man who was the unknowing victim of having his mail stolen. Who had two women conspiring to have him, one in marriage and one- one to have intimate relations for the sole purpose of having a child! Her head spun with the lurid scandal of it. Swaying, she took a firmer grip on the wagon.

Her father stepped outside once more but the blacksmith had paused just inside to pull a shirt over his bare arms and shoulders. When he came out Marlena saw that under the stained shirt he was wearing a heavy leather apron. As he approached he just seemed to get bigger and bigger to Marlena. He was blond and the long locks fell down past his shoulders but it was his beard that caught the eye. She wondered if it had ever been given a trim. It was sorely in need of it. He was soot stained, sweaty, and his skin was flushed from the heat.

When her eyes landed on his she knew instantly this was the Wulf the two women were sighing over. Blue eyes, the color of the morning sky, with a sad, kindness in them. He nodded to her and her mother as he approached. She thought there might have been a smile under that beard. She realized he must be just letting it grow. She wondered if he'd stopped grooming after his wife died. For all his wild hair, unkempt beard, sweat, and soot, he didn't seem that old.

"My wife Johanna and my daughter Marlena. This is Mr. Gunnarsson."

"Hello," was all he said but his voice was deep and soft.

"Here are the tools I wanted you to look at," her father said leading the blacksmith to the back of the wagon where he pulled back the canvas tarp.

"Walter?" her mother said curiously.

"There is no chance of us setting up a farm now that those thieves have stolen our money. The only option we have is to continue on to the city of Portland to see if I can get a job as a book keeper or accountant. To do that I need some money to pay for supplies to get us there and cover us for a brief period until I get work. Mr. Gunnarsson is going to see what he can give us for these tools.

The man lifted and examined each of the implements. He immediately identified some as subpar and not worth the materials they were made from. Marlena watched the two men haggling over the value of the remaining tools and she caught something almost resembling a smile on her father's face when they finally settled and shook hands. The man wrapped an arm around the bundle of tools then grabbed one handle while her father took the other handle of the tool chest. They carried everything into the building. Her father came back out and walked to the wagon.

"Mr. Gunnarsson and I will be going to the bank in town to get the money. Wait for me here."

"Aren't we going to get our supplies here?" his wife asked.

"No, we have enough to carry us to the next town which Mr. Gunnarsson has informed me is larger and has better prices. I will make arrangements to get us into the hotel tonight and we will leave first thing tomorrow. Mr. Gunnarsson will store our wagon and the horses in the stable overnight."

"Father, why is he doing this?" Marlena asked quietly.

The man finally smiled. "Because there is good in the world after all."

She smiled and hugged her father then helped her mother down from the wagon so she could hug him as well.

The blacksmith came out of the building calling out instructions to his young apprentice inside. Marlena saw he'd removed his apron and put on the stained shirt once more.

"We need to go before the bank closes," the man said to her father.

"Yes, let's go." With a wave, they headed off.

Marlena and her mother moved to the bench in the shade next to the building to wait.

They dozed lightly for a time until they heard the sound of someone walking back towards the shop. Marlena woke first and saw it was the blacksmith. She saw no sign of her father.

She stood and saw her mother was still resting so she made her way over to the wagon to wait for the blacksmith.

Before she could say anything she heard the crack of gunfire and screams in the distance.

-=-

Walter Buchholz left the bank feeling like he'd been given a second chance. The blacksmith was exactly how the mercantile shop keeper described. Quiet, fair, and best of all, honest. He'd given Walter a decent price for the tools. The man would only make a minimal profit from that transaction while Walter now had the means to get his family established in Portland, for a short time at least.

Before he did, he had one item to purchase from the mercantile shop. He walked over and went inside.

The shop keeper took one look at his face and nodded. "So, he came through for you."

"As you suggested. Thank you," Walter acknowledged.

He looked at the display case. "There is one item I need to purchase before moving on. When we were robbed I had no way to defend my family. I need a gun, bullets, and a holster. That one." He pointed to a revolver with a long barrel. It looked like the one his father had taught him to use in Germany.

They haggled over the price and settled on just a little more than he hoped to spend but the shop keeper added an extra box of bullets so he could practice.

Walter strapped on the belt, loaded the gun and put it in the holster. He already felt more powerful.

"It suits you!" the man across the counter said with a smile.

Walter smiled and nodded to him as he turned to leave the store, tucking the extra bullets into his pocket. He smiled at the plump young woman then stepped out onto the sidewalk. He stood on the boardwalk, overly aware of the weight of the gun on his right hip. For the first time since he'd begun this trip out to the wild western edge of the country, he felt prepared. Like a cowboy. His smile was slowly returning.

The hotel was up a ways next to the saloon. He stepped down the stairs to the dusty road and walked along feeling for once like he had the world at his feet.

Then he heard it.

Laughter. Mad cackling. Up ahead.

Walter increased his pace as his anger came flooding back. He saw the laughing one. Scrawny, with bad teeth and a large nose. He was wearing Johanne's broach! His partners were standing next to him, one on each side of the laughing one.

"THIEVES! BANDITS! PREYING ON THE INNOCENT! BASTARDS!" Walter bellowed as he got close. He hadn't even realized he'd drawn his gun and was pointing it at the three men making their way to their horses. Townspeople stopped to see what the yelling was about though mothers rushed their children to safety. Walter's rage was building.

"You have to give me back everything you stole. My money! My wife's jewellery! That broach belongs to my wife! COWARDLY BASTARDS!" Walter raged. He saw the one on the left slip his hand towards his gun so he swung his gun to point at him. "Don't even try!" he growled.

"What's going on here?" a voice asked from Walter's right. He glanced and saw it was a deputy.

"These men robbed me-"

The first shot came from the gun of the left most bandit and punched through Walter's chest.

Walter's gun went off with a deafening boom as his reactive squeeze sent a bullet through the laughing bandit's eye, blowing a large hole out the back of his skull. The thief immediately dropped lifeless to the ground.

Two more shots fired off in rapid succession.

The deputy caught a bullet in the throat as he reached for his gun.

Walter's gun boomed once more as he managed to squeeze off another shot before he dropped to his knees. He saw the bandit on the right's left knee explode in a spray of red and white.

A final gunshot echoed between the buildings as a bullet ripped through Walter's heart. He had no time for second thoughts as he fell forward onto his face.

He was dead before he reached his final destination.

-=-

Wulf heard the distinct sound of a gunshot coming from the main street. He saw the fear in the young woman's eyes as she stood next to the wagon and saw the mother quickly rise and rush towards the road to try to see what was happening. He knew the curve blocked sight of the street as it blocked the sounds of his shop from reaching the stores.

The first shot was followed by a louder shot then several more in quick succession.

"Father!" the daughter gasped.

The sound of hooves rapidly approaching made Wulf rush forward to the wagon. A man on horseback came racing around the corner. Wulf pushed the young woman behind cover and they both looked across the wagon bed to see the mother standing out in the street. The rider slowed as he stared with a look of rage and shock on his face.

"YOU!" the man yelled and Wulf began circling around the back of the wagon to get to the woman.

The bandit lifted his gun and a shot ripped through the air.

Wulf froze in shock as the older woman went completely limp and dropped as the bullet went through her forehead.

The daughter screamed and the gunman on the horse swung his arm back and fired again.

This time Wulf was moving. The shot hit the wagon and missed the young woman as Wulf had tackled her to the ground putting himself between the shooter and the woman.

A higher pitched shot pierced the air as another man on a horse raced around the corner from town. The murderer jerked in his saddle then surged his horse forward again. Wulf saw the second rider was the sheriff and he had his rifle out.

They were both quickly out of sight as the sound of thundering hooves moved away.

Another shot echoed back through the trees.

The daughter was crying and reaching for her mother but Wulf kept her down until he knew it was safe. A minute later he saw the legs of the sheriff's horse as the man returned. Wulf stood and helped the young woman to her feet but she immediately pulled away to run to her mother. She dropped and wailed over the lifeless body.

Wulf shared a look with the sheriff as he approached the man. "What happened?" he asked quietly.

The lawman glanced at him again then leaned closer. "An older man, likely her father, stopped three men outside the saloon. He was yelling about them being thieves. He held them at gunpoint and one of my deputies went to investigate. The three men opened fire and killed my deputy and the old man but not before he killed one of them and crippled another."

"He told me about being robbed on the road here," Wulf said, then looked towards the road out of town. "Did the last one get away?"

The sheriff looked grim as he shook his head. He rubbed his face then stared Wulf in the eye. "I need to take the young woman to identify her father. I'll send the undertaker to collect her mother. You can store their wagon, their belongings, and animals until we get this sorted out?"

Wulf nodded.

"Good," the sheriff nodded and walked over to the young woman. He whispered to her and she stood after closing her mother's eyes. He led her away, holding the reins of his horse in his other hand.

Wulf began to shake as he tried to relax after the shooting. He glanced over at the dead woman briefly then got to work. He guided the horses to pull the cart into the barn then unhooked the animals and got them situated with water and feed. Hopefully he wouldn't have to take care of them for long as this was an expense he hadn't anticipated.

When he walked back outside he nodded to the undertaker who was having his assistants load the woman's body into the back of his wagon. Another cart rode by driven by a deputy. The bandit's horse was tied up to the cart and followed.

Wulf shook his head in disbelief. This kind of thing didn't happen in Jennerville. Individual shootings occasionally, like the former blacksmith, but shootouts with bandits on the main street? Never.

He went into his shop and sent his apprentice home. He was done for the day.

The father held the three bandits at gunpoint? When did Mr. Buchholz get a gun?

Wulf shook his head as he shut down his shop for the night. He hoped the young woman would be all right. He recalled the bleak look in her lovely dark eyes when she was under him looking at her mother's lifeless body. He could sympathize with her grief.

He knew how it felt to lose your whole world.

Chapter 3

Marlena moved without conscious will. Hands pulled her along and sat her in chairs but all she felt was numb.

Her parents were dead. After everything they'd been through to get here, for it to end so suddenly, so senselessly, it shook her to her core. Nothing made sense.

Someone placed a small glass in her hand and helped her lift it to her lips.

"Drink this dear, it will ease the pain." A woman's voice.

The word sunk in and she tossed back the liqueur and swallowed. It was sweet but it burned as it slowly made its way down her throat to her stomach.

A second one was placed in her hand and she swallowed that one as well. Voices filtered in and she listened to the words without registering their significance.

"Eugene, I'll leave her in you and your wife's care tonight and I'll be by in the morning to speak with her."

She recognized that as the sheriff. He was nice. Gentle and sad.

Her own grief swelled up and she gasped before forcing it down again.

Another glass was put in her hand and she drank it automatically.

"You might want to go easy on the brandy," the sheriff cautioned someone.

"I think I know how to deal with someone going through traumatic grief," the woman's voice said crisply.

There was a pause. "I'll be back in the morning. Good night."

"God be with you, Grant." That was another man.

There was quiet for a while as people moved around. She felt her body relaxing from the brandy.

"You poor dear. Such a thing to happen after you make such a long journey."

Marlena's eyes focused on the woman sitting in the chair next to hers. Greying black hair swept up and pinned in place atop her head. A sombre face with thin lips. A thick body in a black dress, her large bosom hidden behind lace that partially climbed her neck. The rest of her body was thick as well. She was looking at Marlena with a sad expression.

"My name is Gloria. Gloria Pritchard. My husband Eugene is the town's preacher. You'll stay with us until we can get you settled. Where did you begin from?"

"New York City," Marlena mumbled.

"How old are you, dear?" the woman asked.

"20."

"And no husband?"

Marlena shook her head. Her mind began to jumble the day's events as the brandy loosened her grip on the now.

"There are plenty of fine, god fearing men in Jennerville who would make a decent husband. Someone to start a family of your own. Children."

Marlena's mind shied away from speaking of her own, now dead, family. Instead, it took her to Wulf's letter she'd heard read. "Lucas... big family."

Eyes widened. "Who is Lucas?"

"Mr... Mr... Wulf's cousin. New York... Big family," Marlena mumbled.

The woman's eyes were widening. "You met Mr. Gunnarsson's cousin Lucas in New York?

Marlena couldn't follow the woman's words. She suddenly needed to tell her about the wicked women trying to trick kind hearted Wulf. What they wanted to do with him. "Letter... letters to Lucas." She sighed. It was so hard to keep her thoughts on track. Right, the two wicked women. "Plan to marry... baby."

"Oh my goodness!" the woman gasped in shock and Marlena sighed happily. She understood! She'd protect the blacksmith. "Wulf..." she sighed then drifted off to sleep.

-=-

Gloria dabbed her eyes with a dainty handkerchief as she watched the young woman fall asleep. What a tragic story! To come all this way for an arranged marriage only to have your parent's murdered as they meet your fiancé for the first time! It's no wonder the woman was so distraught!

Mr. Gunnarsson had mentioned to her one Sunday after service that he was Swedish. She wasn't sure how arranged marriages worked in Sweden but his letters to his cousin must have included a request for a bride. She frowned as she knew of at least two women in town who would have gladly married the tall man. She gave herself a shake. That no longer mattered. Here was his bride before her. She felt an almost righteous desire to ensure that her parent's journey was not for naught.

She saw her husband poke his head in the doorway. He paused when he saw his wife's tears.

"Are you all right, dear?" he asked quietly.

Gloria nodded with a smile and rose to leave the room to speak with him in the hallway. "I just discovered this young woman and her parents traveled across the country to bring her to meet her fiancé, Mr. Gunnarsson. He arranged the marriage through his cousin in New York City."

His face showed his shock and dismay. "Oh my word! To have this awful tragedy after such an ordeal. You were very wise to ease her pain with the brandy!"

Gloria preened under his praise. "Yes, I've found it helps the grieving to open up and share their true feelings." He smiled at her again and she basked in his admiration.

His face became concerned once more. "What will we do next? How can this proceed?"

"You leave that to me. This marriage is going to happen and we will do everything in our power to ensure her parent's efforts weren't in vain. God expects nothing less of us!" Gloria said firmly and received another smile from her husband.

She was doing God's work!

Chapter 4

Wulf had an odd visit in the morning. The preacher's wife came by the shop to pick up the luggage from the family's wagon. Apparently the young woman was staying with them. The woman couldn't stop smiling at him and it really got under his skin so he was relieved when she rode away in her buggy with the bags loaded in the rear.

He had so much work to do with the orders he'd received and the interrupted work the day before. He and his apprentice put their heads down and powered their way through the backlog.

They'd just begun again after eating lunch when he heard his name called out from the doorway. With a frustrated growl he handed the tongs he was using to the apprentice and made his way to the front of his shop. He spotted the preacher and the undertaker waiting for him.

"Good afternoon," he said, looking at them curiously.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Gunnarsson," the preacher began. "Mr. Emery and I have come to speak with you about a delicate matter." One of Wulf's eyebrows just rose slightly as he waited for the man to get to the point.

"Right, well, it's about the funeral for Miss Buchholz's parents... and the costs involved."

Wulf's eyebrows dropped immediately as he scowled at the two men. "And how would this be something that involves me?"

The men glanced at each other. Mr. Emery, the undertaker, took up the conversation. "The sheriff informed me you are caring for the young woman's inheritance, the goods in the wagon, the animals, and the wagon itself of course."

"At his request-" Wulf asserted.

"Yes, well, the parents need to be buried and this means coffins and paying my diggers." Mr. Emery stated, staring Wulf in the eye.

"We cannot expect the poor woman to deal with these trivialities during her grieving period!" the preacher insisted.

Wulf stared at the preacher. "What about taking a collection at your next service to cover these costs?"

The man closed his eyes and shook his head. "The charity of the church community, as generous as it is, barely pays for the upkeep of the church, the sacred duties I must perform, and the humble living I make for my wife and me. Asking them to open their pockets to pay for the burial of every poor traveler who perished on their way west would not be reasonable." Then he looked about the large shop as if suggesting there was more wealth to be found here. Wulf scowled at him.

"How much?" he asked cautiously.

Mr. Emery itemized the costs until Wulf had had enough.

"I'll pay for the coffins and for the service but I'll dig the hole myself. A single hole for the two coffins to go in, side by side," he insisted. The preacher looked scandalized but Wulf just waited as the two men considered his offer then nodded. "When does this have to happen?" he asked.

"The digging needs to begin this afternoon as the service will be tomorrow," the undertaker stated and Wulf sighed. "Bring your own tools."

Walking back to his apprentice he instructed him to shut down the shop for the day, to take care of the animals in the barn today and tomorrow, and return first thing two days from now to try to catch up on their work.

He then shed his heavy leather apron, pulled on his work shirt and gathered the tools he'd need. He picked up the shovel and pick he'd purchased from the deceased as they were of excellent quality and new.

He climbed into the back of the wagon with his tools and the preacher drove them to the church on the other side of town. He followed them into the cemetery and over to the beginning of the field by the low stone fence. He frowned at the proximity to the roadway. That wasn't going to give the young woman much privacy when speaking with her parents on visits. There were no other plots in use nearby as well. It was almost like they were being shunned in death as well. He scowled.

"Why so close to the wall? Why so far from the others? There is plenty of room further back," Wulf asked. The undertaker shared a look with the preacher who had an uncomfortable expression on his face.

"Those plots are reserved for people who lived here," the preacher explained.

"So when I perish, I'll get buried up here or back there?" Wulf pushed.

The preacher's mouth opened and closed a few time before he found his voice. "Well, back there, of course."

"Where?" Wulf asked and strode purposefully back through the empty field until he reached the left edge under the shade of a large tree. He was just before the first row of tombstones. "Here?" he asked pointing down.

The preacher and the undertaker joined him and looked down. The preacher nodded.

"Good. I'm giving them my spot. Bury me up by the road. No one will be coming to visit my grave while the young woman should have privacy to speak to her parents." He looked at the undertaker. "Where exactly do I dig? I don't want to disturb an existing grave."

With an uncomfortable glance at the preacher the undertaker indicated the boundaries for Wulf.

"If you'll excuse me, I have a hole to dig," Wulf said and got to work. The two men walked away with a glance back at the blacksmith.

It was hot work but Wulf was used to that. He took brief rest stops but powered through as best he could. There were a lot of roots that he had to cut through.

Mr. Emery returned later in the day with a ladder and a jug of cool water. Wulf climbed up and drank the water after thanking him. He saw a large folded tarp under the undertaker's arm.

"This is to cover the dirt pile and the hole. We're likely going to get rain tonight or tomorrow morning. Won't do to have the hole full of rain or to have the dirt wash away," he explained and Wulf nodded.

His muscles burned from the unfamiliar exercise.

The undertaker looked into the hole. "Another 18 inches to go and you're done. You do good work."

"Thank you," Wulf sighed, rolling his shoulders and stretching his back muscles.

"Harder than swinging a hammer?" Emery asked with a grin.

"Different muscles. Different motions. I'd better get back to it if I want to be done before dark. Thanks again for the ladder, tarp, and the water."

The undertaker nodded and dropped the tarp beside the hole before walking away.

It took another two hours to finish the last part as the ground was harder at this depth. Finally though, he climbed out of the hole and covered it with the tarp. He placed the ladder over that to keep it in place. Then he gathered some stones to pin down the corners and stood back to look at the product of his hard work.

Nodding to himself, he gathered his tools and left the cemetery to walk back to his shop. He had to pass through town to get there and he was a muddy mess but there was nothing for it. As he passed the saloon he saw several of the ladies out on the raised wooden sidewalk in front of the building. They smiled down at him.

"You look like you need a bath, Mister," one called out. "We could help you with that!"

He smiled at them but kept walking, hearing them moan disappointedly.

He drew surprised and disgusted looks from the other townfolk but no one else spoke with him.

Soon enough he arrived at his shop. The apprentice was still there.

"Did you feed and water the horses?" he asked.

"Yes, sir."

"Didn't I send you home earlier?" Wulf asked.

"I like it here. If I go home early my mother gives me my older brother's chores to do," the young man said.

Wulf snorted in amusement as he recalled the battles he'd had with his own older brothers. A familiar pang of loneliness went through him.

"Besides I was able to complete that small order for hinges and I wanted you to inspect them."

Wulf's eyebrows rose. He wasn't sure if the young man was ready to take on the larger items but hinges... "Let me see."

They moved to the table and Wulf inspected the pieces. They looked good. A little more care needed to be taken with the alignment so they moved smoothly.

"These are good though I think you were rushing with some of them. Tomorrow, I want you to correct the spacing on these ones," he set aside ten or so, "and do the remaining hinges on order. You're learning, so take your time to get them right. Work on speed after perfecting accuracy. Good work."

The young man was smiling widely and vibrating with pride. "Thank you, sir!"

"Have a good night!"

"You too, sir!" the boy said and rushed off.

Wulf closed and locked up the shop. He stoked the forge and began heating water for a bath.

The ladies had been right. He did need one. Just not with them.

Chapter 5

Marlena stood by the open grave under an umbrella and looked down at the coffins resting peacefully side by side at the bottom. While the pain of their loss still tore at her heart she was somewhat comforted that her parents would remain close to each other. The hole that had been dug for the combined burial was large as was the mound of earth waiting to be shoveled back into the hole.

She looked up from the coffins to take in the setting. The lovely tree on the other side of the stone fence reached its branches overhead. She was surprised at how nice this spot was.

She wasn't really listening to the words the preacher was saying. It was nice of them to do this but the ceremony felt empty for her. The placement of the grave was a far more significant gesture.

Attending the funeral were the sheriff, the undertaker, the preacher and his wife, and the blacksmith. The tall man stood slightly separate from the group, wearing a long, black, oiled duster. His wide brimmed hat kept the rain from his eyes as well. She saw them glance at her and she saw the sadness in his reflecting her own. She looked away before her tears started again.

She felt numb as the preacher continued to speak and she was grateful when he finished. The sheriff and the undertaker gave her their condolences and left. Gloria asked if she wanted to say a few words before they left.

Glancing once more at the blacksmith who continued to stand silently by the side of the grave she shook her head. She had nothing but screams of anguish in her heart if she opened up now.

Gloria took her elbow and they walked away from the grave. She glanced back and saw the preacher following but Mr. Gunnersson was pulling the tarp back from the huge mound of earth. There was a shovel underneath and she saw him pick it up.

"What? What is Mr. Gunnersson doing?"

The preacher glanced back then faced her with a stiff expression. "He's filling the hole. He refused to pay for the undertaker's men to do it."

She blinked at the man. "He dug the hole as well?" she asked as they walked through the gate and crossed to the carriage.

The preacher was still frowning. "I'm sorry but he refused to dig two separate holes for your parents. The man can be quite stubborn it seems. He insisted on only digging one though it's unseemly. The members of my congregation are going to be upset about that and having strangers buried so close by. No offence," the man grumbled.

They climbed into the carriage, Marlena on the second row seat with her head spinning. He dug that enormous hole and was going to be the only one filling it back up? In the rain? Wait, the preacher said something before...

"Who paid for the funeral?" she blurted.

The man got the carriage moving then looked at her over his shoulder with an uncomfortable expression. "Well, Mr. Gunnarsson."

She looked back to catch a last glimpse of the man shovelling the dirt back into the hole. She faced forward once more, her mind in turmoil. Something else the preacher just said surfaced.

"Where were my parent originally going to be buried?" she asked quietly, watching the man in profile as he drove the carriage. Like she'd recently watched her father.

The preacher's jaw muscles jumped and flexed. "We'd picked out a lovely spot up by the front wall. But again, Mr. Gunnarsson proved to be contrary and... gave your parents the plot we would have given him, as he is a resident of the town. He traded plots with them."

"Oh!" she squeaked as her heart lurched in her chest. The generosity and thoughtfulness of this man, this perfect stranger, took her breath away.

Mistaking her response for one of protest the preacher nodded. "Yes, oh indeed. I will have nothing but harsh words from my congregation to deal with for his irregular and improper actions. If he wasn't one of my flock I wouldn't have allowed it."

"He attends service?" Marlena asked quietly, still reeling from the discoveries.

"Speak up girl!" Gloria snapped, upset to see her husband in distress.

"I asked if he attends service," Marlena repeated.

"Of course! He's not a heathen, however much he might look like one," Gloria chirped. "You've no need to worry about that!" she added with a smile that left Marlena confused.

"Sits or stands at the back, every Sunday," the preacher added in a grumble.

They rode on in silence until they approached the house.

The preacher had an appointment with a sick elderly man so Gloria and Marlena exited the carriage and made their way inside as he drove off.

Once they were settled into the seating room with a cup of tea to warm them up after the damp, Gloria's face lit up as she had an idea.

"I believe we should send Mr. Gunnarsson an invitation to tea three days hence, after this Sunday's service. That would be a much nicer formal introduction than has been performed to date," she said with a broad smile.

Marlena nodded with a smile of her own as she liked the idea of meeting him in a private setting. She desperately wanted to thank the man for his incredible kindness. She was determined to pay him back for the expenses he'd incurred on her behalf... once she knew what funds she had.

For his generosity towards her parents she had no way of repaying that but she would endeavor to let him know how appreciative she was.

"Excellent! I must go write up the invitation now. It must be perfect!" Gloria gushed and rushed off to begin her task.

Marlena watched the woman go then turned her eyes to the window. The rain continued to fall and she frowned thinking of the tall man out there in it, working hard to complete the burial of her parents, in the lovely spot he gave up for them.

She hugged herself as she took another sip of tea. She felt a warmth spread through her that had nothing to do with the hot beverage.

Chapter 6

Sunday morning, Wulf woke at the crack of dawn. For the first time in a very long time he found himself looking forward to attending church.

Two days ago, he'd received an invitation to tea after the service with the preacher, his wife, and their charge, Marlena Buchholz. It was unexpected but he discovered he was... excited by the prospect. He didn't socialize much... at all to be truthful, so this was a welcome diversion. He wanted to see how Marlena was doing. She'd looked so lost at the funeral. His heart ached at the memory.

He also wanted to know if she was going to make arrangements to collect her horses and wagon with its remaining supplies.

He splashed water on his face and frowned at the man who looked back at him. It felt like he was truly seeing himself for the first time in years.

What he saw, did not impress.

He decided right then and there that the beard had to go. He owned a shaving kit but it would need sharpening as he hadn't shaved since- he realized he'd stopped after Leena's death. He'd trimmed it with scissors from time to time when he found himself eating his mustache but shaving... not since then.

Pushing those maudlin thoughts from his mind he set about getting it done. He drew and heated water for a bath. While that was going he selected clothes to wear to church and discovered the only formal wear he had that fit his larger muscles was a dark, charcoal grey suit. He had a nice white shirt for under it and good leather shoes he hadn't worn in years.

He filled the trough with bucket after bucket of hot water and between each bucket he went at his full beard with a pair of sharp scissors. He couldn't get over how much hair he'd shorn from his face!

He moved on to sharpen his razor, not a difficult task considering the tools at his disposal in the shop. When he was satisfied it would smoothly cut the hair and not just pull it out he set it down on a little table next to the trough with a bar of soap and Leena's hand mirror. He poured the last pail of hot water in and stepped into the water. He allowed himself a few minutes to soak his sore muscles then got to work with the soap.

Once his body was clean he soaped and rinsed his hair until it was squeaky clean. Then he soaped his trimmed beard and face and, using the small mirror, shaved the remaining hair away until only smooth skin remained. He momentarily considered leaving the mustache but he wanted a change. He needed to cut loose the man he'd become since Leena passed.

He rinsed off and stepped from the trough to rub himself dry. He squeezed the excess water from his long hair.

He trimmed and cleaned the nails on his hands and feet, and used a brush on his hands to scrub away the stubborn soot stains.

He brushed his teeth until they sparkled and his hair until it gleamed. His long hair, he tied back with a black ribbon, suitable for a mourning period.

Then he dressed in the clothes he'd set out. The shoes pinched a little but he'd endure that. His coat fit though it was a little snug across his chest, shoulders, and arms.

He made his way down the main street through town towards the church. He drew stares and did his best to ignore them. He knew these people and nodded to them as he always did and caught more than one sudden blink of recognition and gasp of incredulity. He began to wonder just how radical his transformation really was.

When he reached the church he approached the doors behind a line of people and saw the preacher shaking hands and greeting the arrivals. His wife and Marlena could be seen just inside the doors greeting arrivals as well.

The preacher glanced past the man he was shaking hands with and replaced his smile with a look of wonder. As Wulf approached him the preacher's smile had returned and almost split his face.

"Good day to you, Mr. Gunnarsson! You look like a man reborn!" he gushed.

Wulf couldn't stop an answering smile from spreading across his own face. He did feel reborn though he was strangely uncertain of the cause. "Thank you preacher- Mr. Pritchard," he stumbled.

The preacher laughed happily and slapped him on the arm as he guided the bigger man inside.

He was a step inside the door when he turned his head and his eyes locked on brown eyes. He noticed Marlena had truly lovely, large brown eyes, much like a doe's. They were currently locked onto his face. Her hands came up involuntarily to touch her own cheeks as she took in his strong jaw which had been hidden behind his mangy beard.

He glanced to the preacher's wife and her eyes were positively sparkling with joy.

"Oh my goodness, Mr. Gunnarsson! How different you look without your beard!" she trilled.

"Its loss feels like a weight removed from my heart," he said absently as his eyes went back to the slim beauty standing next to Mrs. Pritchard. He watched with delight as a fetching blush spread across her cheeks.

"You've discovered a golden tongue under that hair as well!" Gloria quipped as she saw Marlena's reaction as well. She reached out and took his hand, pulling him with her and Marlena down the aisle.

Wulf glanced over to the seat he normally took and spotted Mrs. Dale sitting there with her sister. Both were dressed in their finest and both looked back at him in shock. They didn't normally sit so far back as Mr. Dale was a prominent member of the community and warranted a seat much closer to the front. What were their intentions?

As he passed by, their shock turned to looks of dismay as their eyes moved to who he was walking with.

He looked forward again and realized Mrs. Pritchard was leading them up to the front bench where she sat. The woman leaned in and whispered something to the people already seated there and they shifted down the bench to make more room.

The preacher's wife sat and gestured for Wulf to sit next to her. He did and realized he was going to have to squeeze tight to allow enough bench for Marlena to sit.

"There isn't enough space, Mrs. Pritchard," he said to her quietly.

"Nonsense!" She shifted a little to the left and gestured for him to as well.

Sighing he did and Marlena sat next to him. Sure enough he felt the soft women pressing on him from both sides. That felt too good. He began to worry. He was in church. He turned his face to the preacher's wife.

"This is... too intimate-" he began.

"Hush now. He's beginning," the woman asserted but Wulf could see a bead of sweat on her upper lip as her face flushed as well. He turned his head to face Marlena and she smiled at him timidly. He returned the smile and felt her relax against him.

So soft!

-=-

Marlena wasn't prepared to stand on a receiving line at the church but Gloria gave her no option. She greeted the people as they entered the church and smiled at each of them regardless of receiving a smile in return. She certainly wasn't expecting anything pleasant from the ladies she'd met in the mercantile shop. Those expectations were exceeded as the women began to snarl at her only to be rebuffed by Gloria. The rest of the people entering were civil enough but she was grateful when she saw the line coming to an end.

Then she saw the stranger. The most beautiful man she'd ever laid eyes on. She couldn't look away.

He was smiling shyly at the preacher who said his name and a shock went through her body. This was Mr. Gunnarsson?!? This absolutely gorgeous man was the same kind and generous hearted man who saved her from being shot and who paid her parents the ultimate courtesy?

Then he was standing before her and her breath caught in her chest as everything she wanted to say to him seemed inadequate. His face was no longer hidden behind that messy beard and she wanted desperately to touch his smooth cheeks, to kiss his lips. She tingled at the audacity of her thoughts!

When she caught his tender words as he looked into her eyes, her whole body felt like it might burst into flames.

Then Gloria was pulling them down the aisle and her head was in the clouds as the beautiful man walked next to her. For just a second, she allowed herself to fantasize that they might be doing this as man and wife. Oh, the dreams she had! He was too beautiful for the likes of her.

Her eyes widened when she saw what Gloria was up to and when she slid onto the bench, feeling his hard muscles pressing against her, she thought she might faint. She smiled at him and when he returned it she felt like she might be melting.

She struggled to pay attention to the preacher who was smiling down at them from the pulpit. He certainly looked happy.

-=-

Eugene Pritchard knew a sign from God when it walked up to him and shook his hand. Wulf Gunnarsson had turned a corner. He'd traveled through the valley of despair and grief and had come out the other side a new man.

With the arrival of his fiancé, it was time for the big man to put his mourning aside and begin again.

Eugene felt inspired! He felt new energy flowing through his soul and he wanted to share that with his congregation. He smiled down at his wife who beamed a happy smile back at him. Such a good woman! He looked at the new man sitting next to her and the young woman whose tragic circumstance lead to Mr. Gunnarsson's emancipation from his grief.

He took his flock through the hymns and the prayers. He was almost bursting with excitement to reach the time when he would give a very special sermon.

They sang the last verse of one of his favorite hymns and he set the book down on the pulpit as he smiled out at his congregation. It was time. He smiled at his wife.

"For my sermon today I'd like to address one of the most powerful forces that keeps us all together. I'm speaking of course about 'family'. As a congregation, we are a kind of extended family. For many of you, you only need to look as far as the person sitting next to you to see family. We don't always get along but the bond between family members is incredibly strong." He gave Marlena a sad smile. "We were recently exposed to the tragic loss of family when new arrivals to our fair town were senselessly murdered by bandits, leaving behind their daughter. They'd just completed a most perilous and dangerous journey all the way from New York City to Jennerville with a very special purpose. A purpose we only discovered after the tragic loss of her family.

"Mr. Gunnarsson. Miss Buchholz. Might I ask you to stand?"

The two looked embarrassed but did as he asked. Gloria beamed a wide smile at him and he nodded to her. Gods work, indeed!

"Our own Mr. Gunnarsson has family in New York City. His cousin Lucas and his family reside there." Eugene stated for the congregation but he watched the intense but cautiously curious stare of the big man. "Mr. and Mrs. Buchholz learned of Mr. Gunnarsson's desire for a wife from his cousin and traveled across the country to bring him their daughter. To create a new family! To be his bride!"

He looked to Marlena's face and saw shock and embarrassment heating her cheeks. Her mouth opened and closed then she was looking into Mr. Gunnarsson's excited eyes as he took her shoulder and turned her to look into hers.

"NO! NO! IT'S NOT FAIR!"

Everyone, including Mr. Gunnarsson and Miss Buchholz, turned to see Lisanne Dulane standing in the aisle near the back of the church. Her sister was frantically trying to get her to sit down but she slapped her hands away.

"She- she's lying! She's not his bride! She's trying to steal him from us! She only knows about Wulf's cousin because she overheard my sister and me reading his letter! His cousin couldn't have sent her here as he never got any of the letters!" she finished with a snide tone as she glared at her competition. Her sister was trying to shrink under the bench she sat on.

"WHAT?!?" Wulf bellowed, releasing Marlena's shoulder to face Lisanne who shrank from his enraged glare.

"I never claimed to be his bride," Miss Buchholz said, finding her voice.

Gloria leapt to her feet. "You most certainly did!"

The young woman looked at her. "When?"

Gloria looked at Eugene then back to Marlena. "The night your parents were killed! You talked about the letter to Lucas, the plan to marry him and the baby!"

Eugene saw the young woman look back at her in confusion.

"I was overcome with grief over losing my parents. I have no memory of saying anything that night!" she admitted.

"You had the brandy! You spoke with me!" Gloria insisted.

Miss Buchholz shook her head slowly. "Maybe I was telling you about overhearing them read the letter."

"SEE! Finally the truth," Lisanne squeaked and her sister swatted her.

After glancing back towards the two women, Miss Buchholz gently touched Mr. Gunnarsson's arm. "I did overhear them reading your letter that morning. From what they said, I believe they may have stopped the delivery of all of your letters. I hoped to speak to you about it today at tea. The one in the aisle wanted to marry you and her sister just wanted to use you to have a baby."

Eugene saw murder in the big man's eyes before he turned to face the back of the church. When he tried to move around the young woman she placed her hands gently on his chest and he stopped.

"You two need to come with me," the sheriff said taking Lisanne's arm and pulling her sister up to stand in the aisle. With a look at the preacher and the blacksmith he turned and pulled the two women from the church.

Eugene looked at his wife in disappointment. His sermon was in ruins. His spirit in tatters.

How was he going to fix this?

-=-

Wulf watched the sheriff take the two women from the church and his rage at them drained away to be replaced by a terrible sense of loss. His family back east hadn't received his letters. They likely thought he was dead. He truly was alone.

Then he became aware of hands on his chest, touching him gently and he looked down into soft, brown eyes filled with compassion. His heart lurched in his chest as he recalled the preacher's words. He recalled the surge of joy when he thought she'd spoken with Lucas. How important that link had felt and how crushing it was when she denied it.

"You never told them you spoke with my cousin?"

"No, I never told them that," she said, shaking her head.

He took a deep breath to loosen the tightness in his chest. "Your family didn't cross the country to find me?"

"No, we didn't" she said gently.

He nodded, suddenly feeling stupid for his hope. Up until moments before when the preacher mentioned it he wasn't aware of how much he wanted a bride. No, for her to be his bride. Now, be felt stupid for thinking she might even consider him for a husband. To end his loneliness.

"You don't want to be my bride."

She smiled timidly. "I never said that."

He blinked as joy flooded back into his heart.

"You... you'd marry me?" he asked.

She was nodding with a broad smile. "Yes!"

His smile returned and hers grew wide until they were both grinning like fools at each other.

He turned to face the smiling man at the pulpit. "Preacher, would you do us the honor of making us husband and wife?"

"I'd be happy to make you a family!"

The congregation exploded into cheers and only then did Wulf recall he had an audience. The people had been so quiet, mesmerized as they watched the drama unfold. He looked out over the gathering and saw so many happy faces.

None looked happier than the beauty standing at his side.

Chapter 7

Gloria's cooler head prevailed and the wedding was scheduled for the following Saturday. This gave the woman time to arrange for a wedding dress for Marlena and make preparations.

For the bride-to-be, the week felt like it both crawled and flew by in the flash. She couldn't wait to begin her new life with the gorgeous man. At the same time she was worried about their first night together. She'd never been with a man though he'd been married before. She fretted that she wouldn't do something right or wouldn't be able to make him happy. She was both excited and terrified at the prospect of having intimate relations with him.

She also had moments of deep sorrow at knowing her parents were missing this important event in her life and would never know their children if they were lucky enough to have any.

When she would feel this way she took solace in knowing her parent's would have approved of her choice of a husband. She'd grin to herself as she imagined their explosive excitement at their daughter finally choosing at all!

What also greatly eased the pain in her heart was recalling how much respect her fiancé had shown her parents when he handled their final arrangements.

Then the day was suddenly upon her and she was being walked down the aisle on the arm of the sheriff. She was too nervous to look ahead. She wasn't afraid to see him looking back at her. She was afraid he wouldn't be there at all. That it had all been a silly fantasy.

Instead, from the corner of her eye, she watched the gentleman walking with her. He was an older man but still vital. Better still, he was a man of justice and compassion. Having lost his own family, a wife, son and daughter, years earlier, the man's bushy white mustache was trembling with his joy at having been given this honor. She recalled his surprise when she asked him to do it and the tears he'd shed as he accepted. He'd told her his tragic story and they'd shared their tears. It was a special moment for them both.

When they arrived, he lifted her veil and gave her a kiss on the cheek. She could see tears in his eyes. She smiled gratefully to him as he stepped back. She then turned to face her husband-to-be.

He was there. Tall and strong, his blonde hair tied back with a black ribbon, with his beautiful blue eyes looking at her like she was the most beautiful woman in the world. For that moment, she felt she was.

The preacher said his words and had to repeat a few things to her as her mind wandered, causing the gathered people to laugh. Wulf held her trembling hand and slid the loveliest ring she'd ever seen upon her finger as he said his vows. She blinked at her hand as she was a little dazzled.

Then it was her turn and she accepted the ring from Gloria to place upon his finger. She managed to repeat the words with a wobbling voice, hearing more chuckles, and slid the ring on his larger finger.

When the preacher announced them husband and wife she heard a roaring in her ears and might have fainted if he hadn't pulled her into his arms and hugged her gently. Feeling the strength in his body and how gentle he was being with her eased her worries and she gave him a smile. When his lips chastely pressed against hers sparks shot through her body and she blushed deeply as the crowd cheered.

Afterwards, a select group went back to the preacher's house for dinner. Conversation was boisterous as if everyone was feeling an enormous amount of relief and joy. They released their tensions with much laughter and smiles.

Soon enough, the party was over and they accepted the congratulations of the departing guests. They loaded her luggage into the wagon she'd inherited from her parents. Her husband brought her home. The word sent tingles through her soul.

As they entered the building he apologized for the humble conditions but she only had eyes for him.

"I suppose I should think of building us a real home. This shack is fine for a bachelor... or widow, but it's not suitable for more. For a family," he said quietly.

Her breath caught in her throat. Family. They were going to build their own family! That meant intimate relations which required undressing. Her hands automatically reached up to get at the buttons on her dress.

"May I assist you?" he asked quietly.

She looked into his eyes and smiled as she nodded.

He moved behind her and he undid the buttons down the back of her lovely lace gown. She trembled at the feel of his fingers on her back.

He eased the dress forward off her shoulders and she sighed at the feel of his hands. She gasped when she felt his lips on her neck and swooned. Then she realized he'd undone the laces on her corset. Clever man! He helped her remove it. She was grateful she was already slim so the corset wasn't worn as tight as her mothers had been.

That thought sent a wave of sadness through her and she pushed it back. She would mourn her parents another night. Not now. Not this night.

He stepped back and she turned to face him wearing only her chemise. He removed his jacket and placed it over the back of a chair. She watched as he unbuttoned his shirt and slipped that off too. Her eyes went to the hard muscles of his chest and his strong arms.

Then he was undoing his pants and her eyes widened. This was foreign territory! Strange new worlds! Terribly exciting and frightening at the same time!

They dropped and he stood before her in his underwear. He kicked his pants and socks off and paused to take a deep breath.

"I haven't been naked before a woman other than... my departed wife," he said softly with a nervous expression on his face.

She smiled in relief at him as he was nervous of her impression of him!

"I've never been naked in front of any man and I've never seen one naked!" she said breathlessly.

"Should- should I turn off the lamp-"

"NO!" she gasped then started giggling at her outburst.

He chuckled and pushed his underwear down.

"OH!" she started as her eyes locked onto what's he'd been hiding. "Oh? OH!" she blurted as she suddenly found herself working out the logistics of how his parts would work with hers. "It won't fit!"

He gave one bark of laughter as he recalled exactly the same words spoken from the lips of a woman he thought he'd grow old with. For a moment it was like she was there with him and he felt her happiness. It eased his heart.

"It will. It does. I'll be gentle," he said to calm her. He stepped closer and her eyes grew wider. He touched her face with his fingertips and kissed her lips.

She sighed and tried to follow his lead. When he pulled back she struggled to catch her breath as her heart was beating so fast.

"I'm a little rusty. It's been a long time," he said apologetically.

She looked up into his eyes in surprise. "No, it's good!" She blushed furiously. "I've never done anything like this before!" She felt something bump into her down below and stepped back a little to look down. "OH MY! It's bigger! It won't fit!"

He grinned and reached down to her waist to begin gathering up the fabric of her chemise. She sucked in a breath as she looked into his eyes.

"Fair is fair. I'm naked... wife."

She struggled to hide the smile that popped onto her lips. She nodded and he continued to gather and lift the fabric. She hesitantly lifted her arms and he pulled it up and over her head. He gently set it down on the chair and looked back at her. She was self-consciously crossing her arms before her body and blushing cutely.

He smiled at her and raised an eyebrow as he stood facing her with his arms at this sides. She smiled timidly back at him and slowly dropped her arms.

"You are beautiful," he sighed and she began to protest but he gave her a look and the words failed to leave her lips. "You are beautiful."

"Thank you," she said quietly and smiled less timidly.

He stepped forward and scooped her up in his arms, making her squeak in surprise. He carried her over to his bed and she trembled in his arms as he held her against his chest. He gently placed her on the bed. When he knelt on the bed and moved his body over hers she gasped and her eyes flew wide. Her hands came to rest, her fingertips touching his chest ever so lightly in her surprise and worry.

He smiled and he reclined next to her on the mattress and she snorted in embarrassment.

"Perhaps we could talk a little. Get to know one another?" he asked.

"Kiss me first?" she blurted then went red with embarrassment.

He leaned in and tasted her mouth and she moaned softly.

When he pulled back she bit her lip and smiled up at him. "We get to do that as often as we want?"

"We're husband and wife so, yes," he said with a gentle smile.

"We're going to do that a lot," she said and he chuckled.

She reached up and pulled his face down to hers again and this time the kiss was deeper and she trembled against him. He cupped her modest breast in his big hand and she sucked in a breath as he squeezed it. "Too small?" she asked.

"Perfect." He kissed her again, with more passion and moved his body over hers. She widened her legs as he moved between them.

Before she had time to prepare he was pressing into her body and she gasped, clinging to his strong back. A brief sharp pain and he was deep inside her but he held still. The intimacy was overwhelming!

"Are you ok?" he whispered into her ear.

"Yes," she whispered back. "It fits," she squeaked as he moved a little.

He pulled back to glance at her red face. She smiled tremulously at him. "If it's too much we can stop-"

"Don't you dare!" she gasped then her eyes flashed to his as she surprised herself.

He smiled and began to move. She jolted and clung to him tighter. "Oh! Oh! Oh!"

For Marlena she'd never felt anything more profoundly intimate and the ache was diminishing as the pleasure increased. This was something else she wanted to do often.

His powerful body moved above hers and the pleasure just seemed to slowly climb higher and higher until she thought she might leave her body behind.

The explosion of bliss caught her completely by surprise and she might have screamed a little. She felt his heat filling her and she was lost to the waves of her pleasure.

He moved to her side once more, pulling free from her body and she gasped as her head spun.

They rested for a while, catching their breath. Finally she looked over at the expression of happiness on his face and smiled.

"That is something else we will do often," she said and he chuckled as he nodded.

"Yes, wife."

A wave of happiness washed over her and she turned to snuggle against his side. There were so many benefits to being married!

Still, she was glad she'd waited to find the right man.

Chapter 8

The sound of hammers on iron filled the air in the big shop. Wulf had expanded his operation as business boomed in the growing community. He now had a staff of six and their products were sought after in the surrounding counties. Their unique blending of mechanical excellent and artistic style had built up their reputation. They still handled the basics like horseshoes and nails but their household fixtures like hinges, drawer handles, door knobs, locks, corner guards, and such were in high demand.

He'd torn down the house behind the shop to extend the shop back to increase the workable space by three times. He and Marlena now lived in a beautiful new home a few streets away which he had built for them and their family.

In the ten years since they married, their family had grown with two boys, ages 9 and 8, two girls, ages 7 and 6, and they were expecting another child any day now. Marlena absolutely glowed with motherhood.

He received regular letters from his cousin now. They'd reconnected when his mail was finally able to get past the thief in the post office. That woman hadn't fared well in prison but he put her from his mind. He wouldn't think of unpleasant things when he was going home to see his wife at lunch.

He walked in the front door and smelled the delicious meal Marlena had prepared. No sounds of children laughing so they must be in school.

He was going to hire one of his neighbor's daughters to assist Marlena around the house beginning tomorrow. His wife had protested but she was tired from carrying the extra weight and he wanted her to rest.

He washed his hands and face and made his way into the dining room.

"Ah! You're right on time!" Marlena said as she set the large bowl of stew on the table. She'd turned the remains of their dinner the night before into a hearty stew. The moment her hands were free he gathered her in his arms and kissed her deeply.

"Mmmm! It was kisses like that which brought on this little one!" she grinned up at him as she stroked her tummy.

He placed his hand on hers and smiled. "We'll just have to be more careful."

Wulf sat himself down at the table. "Besides, I seem to recall you were the one who insisted we could do that as often as we wanted," he said with a grin.

Smiling happily, she served them then took her own seat next to him. They said grace then dug in.

Wulf noticed her smiling at him oddly. "What? Have you grown tired of my unshaven face and wish for me to grow my beard once more?"

"NO!" she laughed and swatted his arm. "Don't you dare!"

She shook her head with a smile. "I was just thinking how fortunate I am to have such a wonderful husband and beautiful children. The family I never thought I'd have."

He smiled at her. "You know how happy I am!"

"Would it make you happier to have more family?" she asked with an odd tone in her voice.

His spoon stopped halfway to his mouth. "I- I thought we agreed five children was enough?" he asked with concern.

She blushed. "Yes! I didn't mean more children! I meant more family. Your family." She pulled a letter from her apron. "Your cousin wrote again. Your family is emigrating from Sweden. All or most of them. Life has become quite hard there. I thought- I thought we could invite them to come here. To live in Jennerville... or close by at least. I know you miss them so much!"

Wulf was stunned. His family was coming to the States? He looked to the warmth and compassion in the beautiful eyes of his wife as his heart swelled with love. He brought her hand to his lips and she smiled at him.

"It would be nice for our children to know their relations. I know my family would love you!" he said.

"What's it like to be part of such a large family?" she asked.

He smiled fondly. "There is good and there is not so good, but even the not so good are family so you accept them... but you always keep your eye on them."

She grinned at him and rubbed her hands together happily. "Will you send a letter to your cousin?"

"I'll write him tonight and mail it tomorrow," he promised.

"At least we no longer have to worry about your letters to your cousin being stolen!" Marlena said with a grin.

He nodded with a solemn look. "That's true, but it seems I now have a new problem."

She looked at him in concern. "What is it?"

"It's terrible! I'm not sure I can say it without upsetting you in your condition," he said with a worried look.

Marlena's expression became alarmed. "You must! We promised to share the good and the bad. Tell me!"

He finally nodded with conviction. "Okay, I will." He took a deep breath and watched her eyes widen. "Someone... someone is opening my mail... from my cousin."

Her mouth dropped open in surprise. Then she narrowed her eyes at him as a smile came to her face. "You wicked man!" she gasped in false outrage.

Wulf laughed and enjoyed the sparkle that showed in her eyes when she was truly happy. This was something else he'd promised he'd give her.

Because that's what made him truly happy!