A Bride For The Asking -- (on hold)

Chapter 6--Something They Never Counted On

Rose flinched as the corner of a trunk gouged her in the back, but when she turned to see who might have been so careless, all she could see was a solid wall of people, as rumpled and sweat-stained as she herself, behind her. She instinctively shrank closer to Aunt Mary, and tightened her grip on the makeshift halter she’d fashioned for Shadow.

Shadow, as frightened as she, pressed himself closer to her legs. She could feel him tremble even through the heavy petticoats Aunt Mary had insisted she wear. The little dog practically climbed her leg when the steamboat blasted the air with its shrill whistle. Beside her, Aunt Mary flinched and covered her ears with gloved hands, sending her reticule flying through the air, nearing unseating her hat.

Rose felt her empty stomach churn with anxiety as the Lilly Belle, rounded the last bend and she got her first view of Yankton. This part of the trip was over. Within the hour, no doubt she would be not only meeting her future husband, but most probably be taking vows that would link her life with his for the rest of her life.

Yankton did not have much to recommend it, Rose thought, just one of a hundred such docks she’d passed the last week. The same dowdy frontier people milling about watching the Steamboat land. Rose vainly scanned the rough bearded faces of the men, looking for one who might look like a Woodrow Rice to her. Suddenly she was more frightened than she ever had been in her life. What had she done? If anything, these men looked wilder and less civilized than any she had seen yet.

All too soon, she and Aunt Mary were being shoved forward by the press of humanity behind her, all of them eager to get off the boat and be on their way. Rose felt the gangplank swaying beneath her feet as she walked across it, and might have fallen if not for the bear-like paw beneath her elbow that steadied her and then Aunt Mary the last few steps of the way to solid ground. Rose looked up and up to the big grinning blonde beard so far above her. Of course, she thought, this would be her future husband come to greet her at the dock.

"Excuse me little Ladies, but are you the McGregor party," grinned the bearded man down at Rose and Aunt Mary.

"Y-yes. We are," Rose stammered, her heart sinking.

"Our trunks are over there," added Aunt Mary, pointing towards the two steamer trunk still sitting at the boat’s railing.

"You’un’s wait here," the giant commanded plowing an upstream path onto the boat and down the plank again. "Follow me," he said, spitting a stream of tobacco juice into the roiling water.

So this was her future husband. Rose felt her hopes melting inside of her. She didn’t know what she’d expected in the way of a husband, but it certainly was not this blonde giant of a man. He certainly didn’t look old enough to be forty-nine, that was for sure, she thought, then felt herself blush for no good reason. He couldn’t be over forty—the same age as Aunt Mary.

The stranger didn’t wait for a reply but was bullying a way for them through the thickening crowds, shoving the two steamer trunks he‘d swooped up like they hardly weighed an ounce, ahead of him. Rose could hardly turn her head to see if Aunt Mary was following her or not for the jostling crowd. She could only hope she was, and that Shadow was at the other end of the slack halter rope she clutched like a life line in her gloved hand.

"The steamboat landing is always a little crowded. Folks get excited like when she comes in. Always anxious for news from back home, they are," the stranger said as he made his way to a wagon, and tossed the two trunks in the back. Rose followed as quickly as she could. She didn’t want to lose him in the crowd.

Ike turned, still grinning, back to Rose, who hesitated a few feet away, and dusted his hands off. "Ike Jorgenson, at your service," the giant grinned, sticking his hand out towards her.