Miranda was overwhelmed by their generosity, and she knew Jake was still trying to get used to such niceties. He could not quite believe people existed who could be so kind, and he took his role as their hero with a grain of salt, totally embarrassed by all the attention and, Miranda knew, feeling unworthy of any of it. Miranda had to keep encouraging him to stop living in the past and accept the good things of the present, and although she trusted in the fact that he truly loved her, she prayed daily that he would learn to love himself. To her that was more important even than his learning to love others, and it was something she was not sure he would ever accomplish. He would be forever haunted by his childhood.
Today was not a day to dwell on the past, or on the fact that her husband-to-be had his face on wanted posters back in Missouri. Today there would be a wedding, and in the morning they would leave Fort Laramie and head for Salt Lake. She knew Jake would be glad to get away from the soldiers, always worried about being recognized when he was in such places.
“There now,” Esther said. “Don’t ve look beautiful! You are a picture, Randy! I think I have never seen a young voman so pretty. Your Jake vill not be able to take his eyes off you.”
Miranda felt her cheeks flushing, not so much at the compliment as at the thought of lying with Jake tonight as his wife. They had had only that one night of making love; had come upon the Mormons later that next day after their long talk about Jake’s father. The journey had been difficult, draining them physically from battling the elements and stubborn animals, crossing the river several times, bearing up to intense prairie heat, and fighting off insects at night. They had lived with the constant fear that the Indians would return, maybe in a bigger force the next time, and it felt so good to be within the safety of the fort, to have this little reprieve. Tonight, in spite of their weary bones and muscles, they would most certainly find the energy to share their bodies as husband and wife.
The little orchestra began playing the wedding march, and Miranda came out from behind the wagon where the women had been fussing over her. She walked toward the musicians, where Jake stood waiting with the priest. She carried a few wildflowers the Mormon children had picked for her, and she wore the yellow dress Jake liked best. A couple of the wildflowers had been stuck into her hair, and she had applied just a touch of rouge to her cheeks. She knew she had grown thinner from the hardship of their journey and from being so sick after the snakebite. Her dress was a little big on her, and she hoped she looked all right to Jake.
When she came closer, her heart soared at the look of love there in the eyes of a man who three months ago hadn’t known the first thing about loving and caring. She saw something else in those eyes, that hint of fear, that little-boy look that made her heart ache for him. He was so afraid to care, so afraid that he would ruin her life by being a part of it. How handsome he looked, wearing clean denim pants, a white ruffled shirt, and a silk suit jacket loaned to him by one of the bigger Mormon men. A black string tie decorated the neck of the shirt, and he wore no weapons. He had bathed and shaved in the fort bathhouse, and his leather boots had been polished by soldiers. He wore a new black felt hat purchased at the fort supply store, a hat he removed as she came closer. He handed it out to a soldier who stood nearby and he reached out to take her hand. He squeezed it tightly. “You sure about this?”
“Very sure.” She felt him trembling, wondered at her own daring to marry a wanted man. Everything they were discovering together could be destroyed so quickly, by a bounty hunter, or the law, or even other outlaws. Surely things would be different when they got beyond the Rockies. She smiled for him, felt like crying at the thought of how much she loved him.
The priest moved through his rituals, and they spoke their vows, Jake reddening and grinning a little on the words “for better, for worse.” He felt removed from himself, as though it was a different man marrying this slip of a woman who had totally messed up his thinking. In a sense, it was a different man, one who wanted nothing to do with the life he had led up to now, one who wanted to put the past behind him, if that was possible, and settle with a good woman, find some peace.
Peace. That was what Randy brought him. Away from her, life was vicious and dangerous for him; but in Randy’s arms he was safe, loved, free. Free of the past, free of the memories, free of his anger. He slipped the plain gold band he had purchased at the fort’s supply store onto Miranda’s finger. It was a little too big, but it was the only one available. He would get her something nicer, he vowed, either at Salt Lake or Virginia City.