Blake checked his temper. “I know her family, and she’s no slut. She was an innocent girl when Mason took advantage of her—as he told me himself.”
“Well!” Amelia huffed. “If you think you can force Mason to marry her, you can forget it. He has no intention of doing anything of the kind, especially since that baby could be anybody’s! He left rather than face a shotgun marriage, and I don’t blame him. I told him not to come back until he found a wife more suitable to his station.”
“And the baby? Your grandchild?”
The color rose in Amelia’s flawless face. “That girl’s bastard is no grandchild of mine. In any case, I’m not ready to be anybody’s grandmother. I’m much too young.”
This would have been the time for Blake to tell Amelia that he was going to marry Hanna and raise her baby as a Dollarhide. But after hearing Amelia’s vehement words, he decided against it. He had the answer he’d come for. Mason and his mother wanted nothing to do with the baby. That was all he needed to know.
He took his leave with one less burden, although he had his own worries about a future with Hanna and his brother’s child. One thing at a time, he told himself.
As he walked down the front steps to his horse, he saw Ralph Tomlinson coming out a side door of the house. A tall man, still handsome in middle age, he gave Blake a nod. “Good to see you,” he muttered.
“You, too.” Blake returned the greeting as Ralph turned away and strode toward the stables. The two men had known each other for more than twenty years but had never been more than casual acquaintances. Blake had sometimes wondered how Ralph viewed his lot—under the thumb of a domineering woman who took him into her bed but had no intention of marrying him or giving him any power except that involved in the day-to-day running of the ranch. He lived in a cabin on ranch property, had few friends, and appeared to own little more than his clothes and his gear. Yet he seemed almost slavishly devoted to Amelia. How could a man who was any man at all be satisfied with so little?
Putting the question aside, Blake mounted up and headed out the gate, his thoughts on the preparations for his coming marriage.
* * *
After a sleepless night, Hanna was up early on the morning of her wedding day. In a dark corner of the shack, with her family still asleep, she used a cloth and a bucket to wash as best she could and put on the clothes she’d laid out the night before. Her clean underthings were shabby at best, but they would have to do, as would her worn Sunday shoes and the blue calico dress she’d made for the harvest festival. It wasn’t as if she’d be walking down the aisle of a church in a white veil. This marriage to Blake would be little more than a business arrangement.
As she began brushing her hair for her mother to braid later, Hanna could feel her heart pounding. What would it be like, being Mrs. Blake Dollarhide? How would her old neighbors and the people in town treat her? How would Blake and his family treat her? After all, why would any man want to marry a poor, uneducated girl carrying another man’s child?
What if Blake had thought things over and changed his mind?
What if he wasn’t coming?
If Blake failed to show up, she would die of humiliation. But she wouldn’t blame him.
At least the weather wouldn’t be a problem. A glance out the window showed a clear sky fading to dawn.
After breakfast, her father and Alvar left to work on the neighbor’s barn they were helping to finish. The neighbor, who had a couple of cows, would be paying them in milk and in the promise to shelter the Anderson horses in any winter blizzard.
On his way out the door, Lars planted an awkward kiss on Hanna’s cheek. Things had been strained between them since the news of her pregnancy, but she knew he wished her well. Alvar hugged her and promised to visit. With Kristin as his sweetheart, Hanna knew he would be as good as his word.
While the rest of the family went about their morning chores, Hanna helped her mother wash and dry the dishes—both of them fighting tears because it would probably be the last time. Inga had braided her daughter’s hair and arranged it into a golden crown atop her head. “Now you will look like a queen,” she’d said. “The queen of your new family. Oh, how I wish I could be there to see you married!”
The sun was warming the frozen earth by the time Blake arrived in the buggy. As he climbed to the ground, Hanna’s knees weakened at the sight of him, so handsome in a gray suit with a black bowler hat. Beside him, she would look as shabby as a biddy hen next to an eagle.
Inga, weeping openly, embraced Blake. “You’re a good man, Blake Dollarhide, to do this for my girl and her little one. May the Lord bless your marriage.”
Hanna hugged Axel, Gerda, and Britta, who would take over the schoolwork for herself and the younger ones. One final embrace for her mother and she turned to Blake, ready to go. He helped her into the buggy and tucked a warm lap robe around her. Then they were off to whatever new life awaited them.
* * *
By the time they reached Miles City, the sun had melted the last of the snow and thawed the frozen mud in the streets. Rust-colored goo clung to the wheels of buggies and wagons and coated the hooves of the horses. Here and there, planks had been laid out over the mud. Blake halted the buggy next to the boardwalk and came around to lift Hanna to a clean landing.
“I have some arrangements to make before the ceremony,” he told her. “To keep you busy in the meantime, I’ll be taking you to a ladies’ shop down the street. My family has an account there. They’ll outfit you with a proper dress and everything to go with it.”
“Oh!” Hanna protested, thinking of the cost. “I don’t need all that—”
“You’ll be Mrs. Blake Dollarhide, Hanna. It’s time you started looking the part, especially for your wedding. Take all the time you need. When you’re finished at the shop, the hotel is two doors down the street. I’ll meet you in the lobby.”
Offering her his arm, he escorted her to the shop, which was several doors down along the boardwalk. Even the window displays were so elegant that Hanna wanted to turn around and flee. She didn’t belong in a place like this. The people inside would laugh behind their hands at her homemade clothes and country ways.
Blake, however, walked her firmly inside, where they were greeted by a plump woman with silver hair, rosy cheeks, and dimples that deepened when she smiled.
“Hello, Mr. Dollarhide,” she greeted him. “How are your mother and sister? Did they come with you for some shopping today?”
“Not today, Mildred.” He nudged Hanna forward. “This young lady is Miss Anderson. She’s to become a bride this afternoon, and she’s arrived empty-handed. I’m trusting you to outfit her with a dress and everything else she’ll need for a simple wedding. No limits. She’s to leave here ready for the ceremony.”
Hanna noticed that he left out any mention of the groom. Was he ashamed of her, or simply being discreet? Maybe the latter. Mildred struck her as the sort of woman who’d enjoy passing on a bit of juicy gossip.
Mildred looked Hanna up and down with a practiced eye. “Of course! It will be my pleasure. I’m thinking of something in a soft color to highlight that lovely hair and complexion. Come on back, dear, and we’ll get started.”