Wisconsin Frontier
March 1873
Standing beside her sister, Emma, on the deck of the steamboat, Judith Jones gazed out at the snowy, thickly wooded shore of the northern Mississippi River. The river ice had broken just last week.
“The porter said Pepin is coming up,” Emma said, slipping her hand from her fur muff and through the crook of Judith’s elbow.
Judith clenched her jaw to keep her teeth from chattering from the piercing wind. “I can’t believe we’ve done this.” Answering an ad to find husbands.
“Did we have a choice?” Emma challenged. “Our dear sister-in-law wanted our father’s house to herself.”
Leave it to Emma to speak the truth so...baldly. But her words brought to mind their brother’s Kentucky wife’s sour glare and her razor voice.
Emma jostled Judith’s shoulder with hers. “We’ll be fine. We’ll be together.” Emma grinned and shivered. “Embrace the adventure.”
At this bravado, Judith shook her head, glancing at her very pretty sister from the corner of her eye. Emma’s cheeks were rosy from the brisk March wind, her big blue eyes were wide and she was dancing on her toes from either the cold or excitement. Judith guessed the latter, hoped the latter. But Judith knew her sister still mourned the fiancé she’d cruelly lost in the very last days of the awful war.
Neither of them had come here for happy reasons or without past loss. Still, Judith felt as if she was being squeezed between two unpleasant realities. Before her lay marrying a stranger. Would she and Asa Brant be a good match? No man had ever fallen in love with her. Was she a woman who could engender that kind of love? That doubt plagued her. Yet behind her lay an unhappy home. The memory brought the image of her sister-in-law, Mabel Joy, with hands on her hips, glaring at Judith. Staying in their family home had become impossible. She faced forward, refusing to open the deep well of rejection. Neither her brother nor father had stood up for Judith and Emma. There was no turning back.
“With that sour expression, you must be thinking of our dear sister-in-law,” Emma teased.
Judith shook her head in reply, not taking the bait. But she tried to relax her tight face. She must not look peeved when meeting Asa Brant. She drew in a deep breath of cold air.
The steamboat horn blasted and as they chugged around the bend, a little town came into view. The porter appeared at Judith’s side. “This is your stop, ladies. Pepin, Wisconsin.” Behind him another two porters stood beside the twins’ two trunks and various baggage.
“Wonderful!” Emma said, slipping her arm from Judith’s.
Judith checked her coat pocket to make sure she still had the gratuity to give the porters. And then they were on the shore and faced with a crowd of people pouring out of every building. Judith took a step backward.
Emma tugged her forward. “Oh, look, everyone’s waving.”
Judith allowed Emma to drag her. What choice did she have? They’d reached their destination. Nerves appeared to affect Judith’s sight. She saw the people but had trouble focusing on any faces. In this crowd was the man she’d come to meet and marry sometime soon. He’d promised to make all the arrangements.
At the last moment, Judith remembered herself and turned to give the porters the money from her pocket. “Thank you.”
They accepted it and, after bowing, hurried back on board, holding on to their hats against the wind.
“Welcome to Pepin!” a middle-aged lady with silver in her hair said, reaching them first. A man and a young girl, probably her husband and daughter, hurried just behind her.
Judith looked past them, trying to spot a boardinghouse where she and Emma would stay, but saw none.
“We’re the Ashfords. We own the general store here. You must be the Jones sisters. But I thought you were supposed to be twins.”
Emma eagerly shook the woman’s hand. “We’re fraternal. That means we’re just sisters who were born at the same time. I’m Emma Jones, and this is my sister, Judith.”
Judith curtseyed, a custom almost out of style.
Mr. Ashford beamed at her approvingly as he introduced himself and his daughter and shook her hand. “But you aren’t interested in meeting us.” He looked around in the crowd of people. “Come on, Asa. Meet your bride.”
Judith’s gaze flew upward, seeking her first look at Asa Brant.
A tall man approached her. He’d bundled up against the cold. For a moment he looked familiar but, of course, they’d never met. “Miss Judith Jones?”
She offered him her hand. “Yes.” Her voice came out as a squeak compared to his deep, rich voice that seemed to warm the air around her.
“I’m Asa Brant. So happy you came.” He looked down at her, holding her hand in both of his as if frozen at the sight of her.
Blushing warmth enveloped Judith as she gripped his gloved hand. “Asa.” That’s all she could say, her voice failing her.
“All the arrangements are made as promised,” Asa said, sounding strained. He edged back slightly as if not knowing how to behave.
Judith felt the same awkwardness. They’d corresponded over the past few months, so they were strangers but not complete strangers. What a confusing feeling.
“Yes,” Mrs. Ashford agreed. “Now, you two ladies come with me. I have everything ready for the bride in our quarters above the store. Is your wedding dress in your trunk?”
Judith stared at the woman, unable to reply. Why was the woman asking for her wedding dress? She glanced up at Asa and found him staring at her as if he wasn’t quite sure she was real.
“Where’s my intended?” Emma spoke up in the gap. “Where’s Mason Chandler?”
Everyone fell silent. The crowd all looked away as if embarrassed.
“He hasn’t jilted me, has he?” Emma asked in her usual frank way.
“No, no, nothing like that,” Mrs. Ashford assured her. “Come now, ladies. It’s freezing out here. Everyone, you know the plan. We’ll see you all at the schoolhouse as soon as the bride is ready.”
Judith tried to make sense of what was happening. She still clung to Asa’s hand. What plan was Mrs. Ashford talking about?
“Don’t worry,” Asa assured her. “Just go with Mrs. Ashford.” He squeezed her hand and turned away.
The men in the crowd gathered up the sisters’ belongings and departed as Mrs. Ashford drew them out of the wind through the general store, then up the back stairs to the living quarters. Judith felt as if she were an oarless boat being swept along helplessly in a strong current.
“Now come stand by the fire,” Mrs. Ashford instructed, “while we unpack your wedding dress and press it.” The woman glanced at Emma and worried her lower lip. “I’m afraid Mason Chandler couldn’t be here.” With her daughter standing just behind her, the woman drew a letter from the mantel above the roaring fire and handed it and a slender opener to Emma. “Things happen,” the woman said sympathetically.
This forced Judith out of her daze. She moved beside Emma, who had navigated through all the furniture to stand closer to the window for more light. Judith slid her arm around Emma’s narrow waist. Emma stared at the letter and then slit it open. She held it so Judith could read it with her.
February