Unexpected Vows In A Frontier Town Novel – Chapter 1 My family was so poor we owned only one decent dress. When it was my sister’s turn to wear it to pick wild onions at the canyon edge, she caught the eye of the Van der Berg family heir, who was passing through on a hunting trip. Not long after, a black convoy filled the dirt road in front of our shack. They drove her away to the Van der Berg estate, and she became Mrs. Van der Berg. On the day my sister married Alistair Van der Berg, I stood outside the chapel near Santa Fe Square, eating cold meal. Sebastian Wolfram, a taciturn and reserved man, shot me a glance. The next day, sixty-six crates of engagement gifts piled up inside our wooden shack. When Martha Pike, a widow who’d raised her daughter alone for years, heard about it, she showed up at my door out of nowhere. She offered to take me as her goddaughter and see me properly into the chapel on my wedding day. In my previous life, I was so grateful I almost cried, and I agreed on the spot.
But I never expected that on the wedding day, Martha and Sebastian would be pulled out of the pond in the Whisper Valley garden, soaking wet. Her dress hung loose and disheveled, and she clung to Sebastian like she’d never let go. Sebastian tried to explain in a panic, but Martha let out a bitter laugh and threatened to throw herself back into the pond in front of all the guests. She said her reputation was ruined, that she’d never be able to show her face around this town again. Under the pressure of the crowd’s murmurs and gossip, she took my place and became Mrs. Wolfram. And I picked up my tattered basket and went back to Silver Creek, where I went on picking wild onions from rocky crevices and gathering firewood. A year later, word came from the Van der Berg estate that my sister had died in labor. I drove a rental car through the night to get there, but when I arrived, I saw hydrangea pots set out at the gates again—the same ones used for a new wedding.
It turned out it was Martha’s daughter, Lydia. She had felt sorry for Alistair, who’d been drinking himself numb late into the night. So she tried to comfort him, only for the drunk man to mistake her for my sister and spend the night with her. She became the new Mrs. Van der Berg. The following year, both Martha and her daughter gave birth to heirs of their respective families. Ten years later, when I saw them again, Martha and Lydia were draped in costly gowns. So gorgeous. Like elegant ladies walking out of a painting. I, however, was so worn down by life that I’d become gaunt and bony, without even a whole coat. They tossed a few coins at my feet out of pity, then drove off, surrounded by a swarm of servants and bodyguards. That winter, clutching my sister’s death notice, I collapsed in the snow outside Silver Creek and froze to death.
When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day Martha came to offer herself as my godmother. “Neither of you sisters has parents,” she said, clutching her handkerchief, her voice dripping with false tenderness. “It wouldn’t look right if no one walks you down the aisle on your wedding day. I am, after all, your late teacher’s wife. That makes me something of your guardian. Wren, let me see you into that chapel.” … I stepped back, smiling without a trace of warmth. “Thank you for your concern, Mrs. Pike, but as for the wedding, that won’t be necessary.” The moment the words left my mouth, Martha’s eyes welled up. “Wren, I only want you to have some dignity. But you keep pushing me away, are you ashamed of me because I’m poor?” She sighed. “Now that you’re marrying into the nobility, you look down on me?” Barnes, the town mayor, furrowed his brow and shot me a displeased look. “Wren Calloway, your parents died young. Mr. Pike taught you to read and write.
Mrs. Pike cooked for you and your sister, mended your torn dresses, gave you hot soup when you were hungry. And now that you’re marrying into the Wolfram family, you turn your nose up at her because of her humble roots? Afraid she’ll embarrass you?” He slammed his cane against the wooden floor. “Our town won’t abide ingrates like you!” I nearly laughed out of sheer exasperation. Yes, when Mr. Pike was alive, he did teach my sister and me reading and arithmetic for a few days. But he charged us fifty dollars for it. Even then, he’d mutter that we were just girls from a shack, that no matter how much we learned we’d never marry into a decent family. After a few pages of the textbook, he never taught us anymore. And Martha, using the excuse of being the teacher’s wife, would stop by our place every few days, helping herself to our flour, eggs and firewood. After my parents passed away, she cut all ties with us without a second thought. And now she had the nerve to act like she’d done us any favors.
The townsfolk swarmed around me, chattering loudly. “That’s right! Mrs. Pike is so kind. Even the chapel charity committee put her name on the roll of model citizens. Her offering to walk you down the aisle is your honor. Don’t be so ungrateful!” “If you refuse your teacher’s wife, we won’t recognize you as part of Cinder Creek!” “That’s right! We’ll strike your name from the town registry. You, an orphan with no family, no guardian, get the hell out of here for good!”