Give Me A Texan. Jodi Thomas

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      She watched her brother-in-law disappear into the clutter of homes behind the station. For a while she just stared into the darkness wondering what she’d say to this man she was about to marry. Getting acquainted wasn’t easy when neither liked to talk.

      When she finally turned, Hank Harris looked as nervous as she. He offered his big hand and helped her down from the wagon. As his sleeve slipped a few inches up his arm she noticed a white bandage.

      “Are you hurt?” If he’d had a bandage on his arm at dinner, surely she would have noticed.

      Hank pulled his shirt over the wound as he shook his head. “It’s nothing really. Right after I bought our tickets, some fellow I’ve never seen before thought I should have a drink with him. When I said I was waiting for someone he pulled a knife.” Hank brushed his coat sleeve as if the wound could be dusted away. “The doc in the saloon across the street stitched it up for me. He was well into his whiskey, but he did a fine job. He wasn’t much of a doctor and it wasn’t much of a cut, so he only charged the price of a bottle. I was more worried about not being here when you drove in than the blood.”

      She frowned.

      Hank continued, “I think the fellow mistook me for someone else. He was drunk enough that, by the time he realized his mistake, he decided to be mad at me instead of himself.”

      Her smile returned. “I can see how he’d take you for another.” She scanned the length of him. “There must be quite a few men your size catching the midnight train.”

      Hank hated comments about his height, but somehow he didn’t mind her teasing. “Be careful or next time I’ll tell the guy to stay around until my wife arrives to shoot him.”

      “Did he try to rob you?”

      Hank shook his head. “No, just a drunk wanting company.”

      Aggie brushed her fingers along his arm, lightly feeling the bandage beneath layers of shirt and coat. When their eyes met, they both turned away, embarrassed at her boldness.

      He quickly stepped to the wagon bed. “This all of your luggage?” he asked as politely as if she were a stranger he’d offered to assist.

      She glanced at the carpetbag and two boxes tied with twine. “I’ve a trunk my father said he’d ship once I settled. That’s all.” She knew it wasn’t much. Most brides came with all the necessities for setting up housekeeping, but without a mother to help her, Aggie had neither the skill nor desire to quilt and stitch a dowry.

      He picked up her belongings and loaded them on the train. When he returned, she whispered, “Thank you.”

      “You’re welcome,” was all he answered.

      They just stood, side by side, as mismatched as any couple she’d ever seen. Her fingers twisted together, she shifted in place, straightened her skirt, retied the bonnet Dolly had insisted she wear.

      Hank could have been made of stone. He didn’t even seem to breathe. They both stared at the few lights of Fort Worth. On the breeze she thought she heard the tinny sound of a piano and guessed the only thing open this time of night would be the saloons.

      “You cold?” He startled her with his question.

      “No,” she lied, pulling her cotton dress coat around her. She wasn’t about to complain or tell him this was the only coat she had. Her father had bought her three new dresses to “go on her courting journey.” Only, when she’d left for her first sister’s house, it had been late spring. Now, in another month it would be Thanksgiving. Her three fine dresses were worn from washing and pressing, and no brother-in-law had offered to loan her money for winter clothes. Not that she would have taken a single coin from them. All any of them wanted from her was her absence. She was another mouth to feed and something for their wives to complain about. Nothing more.

      She watched Charlie hurrying down the platform. A chubby young man, trying to pull on his long black coat, rushed behind him.

      “I finally found a preacher,” Charlie grumbled. “We can get this done now.”

      The preacher introduced himself as Brother Philip Milton. He shook Hank’s hand with a strong pumping motion. “First,” the young man said, straightening to his full height, “I have to ask if you’re still wanting to marry this lady.” He looked nervous, as if this might be his first ceremony. “I don’t push nobody down matrimony road that don’t want to go.”

      Hank swallowed, then nodded. Aggie wished she could see his face and know for sure that he wasn’t having second thoughts. She wanted to warn the lean cowboy that all she’d ever been was trouble. Her mother died giving her birth. Her sisters had to take care of her when they were little more than babies themselves. Her father carted her to work with him until she’d been old enough to go to school. She didn’t like, or trust, people, and she smelled of gun power and oil most of the time. If this man had any sense, he’d run now while he still had the chance.

      Brother Milton patted Hank on the shoulder and turned to her. “You feel the same about him?”

      She fought down a scream as she managed to whisper, “Yes.”

      While the preacher continued, she told herself nothing could be worse than being passed around. At least she’d have a home, no matter how small or plain.

      Brushing the Colt at her waist she remembered his offer. A partnership. If he was fool enough to offer, she was crazy enough to take him up on it.

      The preacher asked them to join hands as the first whistle to load sounded. Hank’s fingers closed around hers and she tried to hear Brother Milton’s words over the pounding of her heart. She was doing what her father had ordered. She was marrying.

      Steam filled the night air, fogging the lights on the platform as travelers rushed by, unaware that two people were joining their lives together, forever. Aggie gripped Hank’s hand and breathed in the damp air. Silently, she said good-bye to all she’d ever known, and hung her hopes on his promise.

      The preacher pronounced them man and wife as the second whistle sounded. Hank reached in his pocket and handed Brother Milton two dollars.

      Charlie yelled for them to hurry and suddenly they were running—her hand still in Hank’s—toward their new life.

      Hank paused a few feet ahead of her as the train began to move. Then, without warning, he reached for her and lifted her up to the second step as the train picked up speed. A moment later, he jumped aboard.

      Aggie backed up another step, giving him room, and found herself at eye level with the stranger she’d just married. She should have been afraid, but all she saw was a pair of walnut-colored eyes reflecting the questions and uncertainty she felt. She knew without asking that he hadn’t come to dinner planning to leave with a wife. He didn’t even seem all that happy with the turn of events. He looked more confused and worried.

      He might be clean and not swear, but for all she knew he’d murdered and buried several wives out on that ranch of his. No one, not even her brother-in-law, knew Hank Harris well enough to pay him an honest compliment. He might be a raving maniac living way off in a town she’d never heard about. But then, who was she to question his sanity. She’d married a giant she’d talked to for five minutes in the dark.

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