Authors: High on a Hill
“So much has happened, I almost forgot about it. I do want to keep it with me.”
“You’ll be my wife before this day is over and I’ll have every right to keep
you
with me.”
W
HEN THEY CAME TO THE LANE leading to the Carters’, Jack slowed the truck.
“Are you sure you want to go up there? They’re well armed now that they’ve got the tommy gun.”
“I’m sure,” Corbin said confidently. “I want to thank them.” He looked down and spoke to Annabel sitting between him and Jack. “Folks like the Carters make bitter enemies; but if you can get them on your side, they are loyal friends.”
The truck rounded the corner of the house. A heavyset man in overalls stepped off the porch. He carried a bucket. Ignoring them, he waddled out into the yard and threw a handful of grain to a flock of white hens picking out undigested tidbits from animal manure and scratching in the grass for insects.
“Those are my chickens!” Annabel whispered angrily.
“Sshh—the chickens aren’t important.” Corbin got out of the truck and approached the man.
“Are you Bud Carter?”
“Yup.”
“I’m Corbin Appleby.” Corbin held out his hand. “I want to thank you for what you did today.” Bud, hesitantly, shook Corbin’s hand.
“’Twas for Marvin.”
“I know that. But for you, however, they would have killed us. It was a brave thing you did, coming in with that hay wagon.”
“We … couldn’t let it go by.”
“Of course not. You did what you had to do.”
“’Twas for Marvin,” he said again.
“Miss Donovan is leaving and is unable to take her cow. It would be a favor to her if you would go get her. She’s become fond of her and wants her to be where she’ll get good care.”
“Tess did the milkin’, but I know how.”
“Can I tell Miss Donovan that you’ll get the cow?”
“I guess so.”
“Thank you. It will take a worry from her mind. And again, let me say that we’re sorry about Marvin.”
Corbin came back and got in the truck. As they drove past Bud, Annabel waved. He stood as if frozen to the ground, the bucket in his hand and the hens clucking around his feet, a blank expression on his face.
“You’re a good and smart man, Corbin Appleby,” Annabel said when they were on the road again. “You’re wiser than I am. I wouldn’t have thought to go there and thank them and let them think it was a favor to me for them to take my cow.”
Corbin grinned at her. “Good and smart? In the years ahead, I’m going to remind you of those words.”
“Have you decided where we’re going when we get to town?” Jack asked.
“Stop here for just a minute and let’s talk about it. I don’t know of anyone in town whom I can trust. Potter has a partner. It could be any one of a number of people. I’m only half sure I can trust the butcher. He was in my army unit in France … he says. I’m afraid to take a chance on him.”
“The preachers wouldn’t be connected with Potter,” Annabel said.
“We’ve got to trust one of them to marry us, but I don’t want to involve them in something that could be dangerous to them or their families.”
“Boone liked the doctor. He said he was a man to ride the river with, whatever that means.”
“I thought of him, sweetheart. He may be our best bet. But first I want to find a preacher to marry us. There’s a Baptist church on the west edge of town. Is that all right with you?”
“It’s all right with me, but are you sure you want to do this?”
Corbin’s arm pulled her tightly against him. “Are
you
sure? It’s a lifetime commitment. I don’t want to rush you into anything because we’ve found ourselves in this fix.”
“I wanted to marry you before we got into this fix.” Her hand went to his cheek.
“It isn’t the kind of wedding a girl dreams about,” he said quietly. “The groom needs a bath and a shave. His clothes are dirty. But he has a heart full of love for his bride.”
“That’s what matters.”
“I don’t have a ring.”
“You can tie a string around my finger until we can get one.”
As the worry left his face, he laughed and kissed her. “I’m going to have you with me every night for the rest of our lives, so we’d better get married.”
“Mush!” Jack snorted. “Kissy, kissy. You’re just like Julie and Evan before they got married.”
“When you fall in love, Jack, my boy, I’ll give you some lessons in kissing.”
“Better yet, why don’t you donate your grandpa’s book on courting to him?” Annabel smiled impishly.
“Good idea. It worked for me, didn’t it?”
Jack turned down a side road before they reached town and paused in front of a small frame church. He motioned to the two boys playing catch in the middle of the road.
“Where does the preacher live?”
“Right there.” The boy pointed to the house nearest to the church. “He’s my pa.”
“Much obliged.” Jack moved the truck to the side of the road and turned off the motor.
“I’ll go talk to him.” Corbin got out, went to the house and knocked on the door. When it opened, he stepped inside. It seemed hours to Annabel but could only have been minutes before he came back out to the truck. “Come on, sweetheart. You too, Jack. You and the preacher’s wife will be our witnesses.”
Annabel got out and smoothed her skirt down with her hands and looped her dark hair behind her ears.
This is my wedding day, this is my wedding day …
“I told him that we were eloping,” Corbin’s voice penetrated into her mind. “I said that your father wanted you to marry a Catholic, but we were in love and wanted to be married before we yielded to temptation and did what would possibly result in a child being born out of wedlock.”
“You didn’t say that!” She could feel the heat that came up her neck to flood her face.
“I did. He was very understanding.”
“I’ll not be able to face him.”
Corbin laughed. “Sure you will. Honey, you’re adorable when you blush.”
“How did you know Papa was Catholic?”
“He’s Irish, isn’t he? All you have to do is say the word
Catholic
to a Baptist to get him going. I was lucky to think of it.”
The preacher, a serious-faced man with sparse light hair, met them at the door and led them to a table behind the piano, where he asked Corbin to fill out some papers. Annabel was surprised that he remembered her telling him that she was born on Christmas day. He completed the paper and handed it to the preacher.
“Annabel Lee Donovan and Corbin Joseph Appleby, both legal age.” He nodded, went to stand in front of the podium and motioned for them to stand before him. His wife had quietly come in the back door of the church.
“We are gathered together here to unite Annabel Lee Donovan and Corbin Joseph Appleby in holy matrimony.”
With her hand clasped tightly in Corbin’s, her eyes on the preacher’s face, Annabel listened, as if it were happening to someone else, to the ceremony that would make her Corbin’s wife.
“Do you, Corbin Joseph Appleby, take this woman to be your lawful wedded wife? Do you promise, before God, to love and cherish her in sickness and in health until death do you part?”
Corbin heard the words, his eyes on the face of the woman who had become dearer to him than life.
“I do promise.”
“Do you, Annabel Lee Donovan, take this man to be your lawful wedded husband? Do you promise, before God, to love and cherish him, to honor and obey him, in sickness and in health, for better or for worse, until death you do part?”
With her eyes locked with Corbin’s, she whispered, “I do.”
“The ring, please.”
“We haven’t had time to buy a ring. This will have to do.”
Corbin reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out a short piece of twine. His eyes smiled into hers as he wrapped the string twice around her finger and tied it. He then lifted her hand to his lips and kissed the symbol of their union.
“By the right invested in me by the church and by the law of Missouri in this year of our Lord, nineteen hundred and twenty-five, I declare you man and wife. You may kiss the bride.”
The ceremony that changed their lives forever was over in a matter of minutes. Corbin looked into Annabel’s face, then slowly pulled her into his arms.
“Hello, sweet wife.” His lips whispered against the far corner of hers.
Hers parted warmly. “Hello, husband.”
He kissed her then, gently and reverently.
A smile stripped the tiredness from his face. Unmindful of the preacher, his wife and Jack, Corbin held her against him, looking at her. In her eyes was a look of adoration. Her love was so great a miracle that all he could do was wonder how he had lived until now without this special girl who had come so suddenly into his life.
Jack’s voice finally broke into the silence. “Don’t I get to kiss the bride?”
Corbin released her reluctantly, watched Jack kiss his wife, then pulled her close to him again. The preacher went back to the table and put his finger on a document.
“If you will both sign, the witnesses will affix their signatures.” He dipped the pen in the inkwell and handed it to Annabel. She set her name to the paper and passed the pen to Corbin. After the preacher’s wife and Jack signed, the preacher waved the paper to dry the ink, then handed it to Annabel. “The marriage will be recorded at the courthouse the first thing in the morning.”
“Thank you, sir.” She folded the paper carefully and said, “Thank you too, ma’am.”
“I wish you a long and happy life together.”
“Thank you. And … good-bye.”
After Corbin pressed some bills in the preacher’s hand, he and Annabel walked back down the aisle as man and wife. Jack trailed along behind them. Out in the golden afternoon, she smiled up at her husband.
“Thank you for my beautiful ring.” Mischief lit her eyes.
“You’re welcome. I asked the preacher’s wife if she had a short length of twine. I wish it were a diamond as big as a hen’s egg.”
“I don’t. It’s perfect. I may never take it off.”
She hugged his arm and matched her steps with his. She hadn’t known that there was this much happiness in the world. She loved this man and he loved her in return. She could tell by the look in his eyes when he gazed at her as he was doing now. Even the expectation of her father’s anger, when he learned that she had married without his permission, failed to dim her happiness.
“What now?” Jack asked after he had started the truck moving.
“The depot. This is suppertime. Not many people will be out on the street. I’ll write out a wire and you can take it in.”
“You don’t have any paper,” Annabel said.
“You do.” He reached for the wedding paper the preacher had given her.
“Oh, no! You’re not using that.”
Corbin laughed, pulled a tablet and pencil out from under the seat and began to write. When he finished, he tore the page from the tablet and handed it to Annabel. She read it aloud: “‘Mrs. Ned Wicker, Jefferson City, Missouri. Aunt Maude is sick. Dying. Medicine from drugstore didn’t help. Urgent you see her. J. Jones.’ ”
“Who is Mrs. Wicker?” Jack asked.
“Marshal Sanford. Hang around until you see the operator sending it. Here’s some money.” Corbin held out a bill.
“Will the marshal know what you mean about the medicine at the drugstore?” Jack stuffed the bill in his pocket.
“He’ll know.”
There were no cars or wagons at the depot. Jack parked the truck, got out and walked along the plank walk to the door with the sign TELEGRAPH above it and went inside.
Corbin’s arm arched over Annabel’s head and pulled her closer to him. His lips caressed her cheek before moving to her mouth. His lips fell hungrily on hers. They were demanding yet tender.
“Someone will see.”
“I don’t care. Do you?”
“Not a bit.”
“Kiss me, wife.”
She did, her lips clinging moistly to his. After a minute or two, she leaned away. Her eyes danced lovingly over his face and she laughed.
“What are you laughing at?”
“You. How are you going to teach Jack to kiss?” She cocked her head to one side and wrinkled her nose at him. “Are you going to let him practice on me?”
“Hell, no! If I find any man kissing you, I’ll twist his tail off. Even Jack.”
He cut her laughter off with a kiss, which she took thirstily. His fingers moved up into her hair, their touch strong and possessive. His lips pulled away, but he kept her close.
“You’re sweet and brave and sensible. I love everything about you, Mrs. Appleby,” he said quietly.
“I love everything about you.”
“You’re truly mine now.”
“And you’re mine. I’m so glad.”
“The telegram is on its way,” Jack said, pulling open the door. “It cost twenty-two cents. They charge by the word. Here’s your change.” He got in and started the truck. “Where to? The doctor’s?”
“I’ve been thinking about that. I’d rather not involve him if I don’t have to. If Annabel and I can hole up in the hotel until Marshal Sanford gets here, we’ll be all right. It occurred to me that Potter knows this truck and so does his partner, whoever he is. The sooner we get it out of town, the better.”
“You’re probably right. Not many trucks in town can carry as heavy a load as this one.”
“I don’t want you to go back to the house, Jack. When Potter fails to hear from the men he met out there, he’s going to go looking for them.”
“But Mr. Potter doesn’t know that we know he was out there when Marvin was killed.”
“That’s right, honey. It’s one advantage we have.”
“What do you think the Carters did with the men they killed?” she asked.
“I’m thinking that they’ll never be found. The car will disappear too.”
“Are you going to tell Marshal Sanford?”
“He’s the law. He has the right to know.”
“Will he arrest the Carters?”
“After I explain the situation, I think he’ll let sleeping dogs lie. The Carters did him a favor in a roundabout way.”
“I’ll go back to where Boone leaves the truck and wait in it until morning. He’ll be fit to be tied when he learns all that’s happened.” Jack’s eyes were full of merriment. “I can hardly wait to tell him you’re married.”