talk Hixson into living in Virginia after they were married. Now she would have one less reason to stay in there, and he would have one more reason to want to live in Pennsylvania.
Meanwhile, Hixson was trying to figure out if Sarah might be willing to stay, and how to ask her. He didn’t want to uproot her, when she was still recovering from all the upset in her life. He didn’t know which was the right road.
September 15th, 1865--Dover, Pennsylvania
The weeks went by in comfort and harmony. Sarah only suffered from two more nightmares in the weeks before the wedding. All but the deepest bruises had faded to smears of yellow-green; she had put on a little much-needed weight. The bloom of color in her face had returned.
Annie came by often, and she and Sarah became very close. Annie loved Sarah for not being judgmental about her looks. She knew she was not the beauty Sarah was. The pretty girls in her home town often picked on the plain girls. Sarah would never dream of it. She thought Annie was adorable. Charlton had made an excellent catch, in her estimation. Annie was a good cook who was kind and funny and energetic. She was a treasure, thought Sarah.
Neither woman fully appreciated the struggle Charlton was having. He hadn’t told Annie, no one had, about what had happened to Sarah. Sarah could sense that Charlton was deeply upset by what he knew. What could she do about it? He did his best to cover it, and she thought maybe she should leave it that way. She did not realize the intensity of the anguish he felt.
Hixson saw the conflict in Charlton, too. He didn’t know exactly what his brother was thinking, but he had the idea it had something to do with Sarah. When Charlton said he was going into town the day before the wedding, Hixson asked to come along.
Riding on the wagon seat together, Hixson just went ahead and asked. "What’s eating you, Charlton? You’ve been bothered since you found out, haven’t you?"
"Yeah. I sure feel bad for her." It was a very incomplete answer and they both knew it. After a while, he continued. "I just don’t know what I would do if it were Annie. I’m not sure I could ever look at her the same way again." It was out. "I mean, I know it’s not her fault and everything. But to know someone else..." Charlton shrugged and shook his head.
"I know. I would have thought the same thing before it happened. But it isn’t like that. I thought I was going to lose her, before I ever got to tell her how I felt. I was never so scared. "And let me tell you, brother. What you saw of the bruises that night, wasn’t nothing. It’s a wonder she lived. You wouldn’t believe how much blood she lost. I’ve never seen such a thing, and I hope I never do again. Honestly, I don’t know how she survived it.
“I saw some pretty awful stuff in the war, but nothing like what was done to her, and she wasn’t at war with anybody. She was out splitting kindling when they caught her. Don’t tell nobody, but she killed one of the men with a splitting maul. Cracked his head open like pumpkin. She might be little, but she is one strong woman. She’s everything I want in a woman, and those savages tried to take her away from me, in the worst kind of way.
"So yeah. I don’t look at her the same way anymore. Now I know she’s more than just a beautiful girl with a mysterious gift. She survived something that would have killed you or me, either one. I’d do anything for her, and I’ll do everything I can to keep her from ever being hurt again." It was the longest lecture Hixson had ever given his brother.
"Hixson, what did you mean by ‘they’ and ‘them’? There was more than one that...outraged her?" Charlton asked quietly.
"There was more than one." Hixson said grimly. "There were five, plus the one she killed. They even killed her dog. She was a good dog, too. They probably would have stolen her horses, but those were way back in an oak thicket. I don’t think the assholes saw them."
They rode on a little further, and Hixson stopped the wagon. "Here," he handed Charlton the reins. "You go on alone. You need to think. I’ll walk back." He clapped his brother on the shoulder in a friendly way, and jumped down.
Charlton did think. He thought a lot. He thought about Annie and Sarah and Hixson, and the speech that Hixson had made.
Sarah was gathering eggs before supper when Charlton rode in. He stopped the wagon in front of the barn and walked over to her.
"Did you ever read The Leatherstocking Tales by James Fenimore Cooper?"
Sarah nodded, “I did.” But she was puzzled by the question.
"I always thought Hawkeye in that book was the biggest hero in the world." Charlton hugged her. "Well, I changed my mind. Now I think it might be you." And he walked away with his burden of doubt lifted.
Momma sat on the porch that evening with Charlton, Hixson and Sarah. Poppa had gone to bed early, tired from his day’s exertions. Eliza was in her room writing poetry, her mind filled with weddings, and the notion of love.
“I’m not going to give you a long speech about marriage, youngsters. Most of what marriage is you’ll have to learn for yourselves and make your own path. But I will tell you a few things that might make that path a little easier.
“Right from the start, you will need to learn how to see the intention behind your spouse’s actions. Men don’t always say how they feel, and women don’t always say what they mean. Boys, try to see the things your wife does for love. I can’t tell you what those things will be. You’ll have to figure it out.
“Might be she fixes your favorite meals, even though she doesn’t especially like that meal. Or maybe she puts out the lamp to let you sleep, even though she was just getting to the good part in the book she’s reading.
“You have to look for the love in what your spouse does, and not expect the flowery words all the time. Sometimes, you have to look real close to see it. One time Poppa noticed I had a patch on my skirt. I had snagged and torn it on a bad spot on the porch railing. When I came in from the vegetable garden a few days later, he was fixing that spot on the railing. It didn’t bother him any, his pants don’t sweep around like a skirt does, but he was fixing it for me. I hadn’t even asked him to. It wasn’t a huge, romantic thing to do. But always remember this: a marriage is made up of minutes in the same way a mile is made up of inches. Every bit matters.”
They all sat a while longer, thinking over what Momma said. Momma and Sarah stayed out after the men had retired.
Momma was waiting. She had one more piece of advice that was just for Sarah. “This advice is only for you and for Annie, and Eliza, when her turn comes. If you don’t want to do something for the whole of your married life, don’t do it the first time. It will become your job forever.
“Not too long after we were married, Poppa raised a fine hog for our winter meat. When it came time to butcher, I thought I’d be helpful and take a turn at scraping the hog.” Momma was smiling as she recounted, and Sarah nodded in understanding. Scraping a pig was a horrible job.
“I guess Poppa liked my work, because when he raised another the next year, he found something else to do when it came time to scrape. Every year since, he kills the hog. I scrape it. Even when I was expecting! I should never have done it the first time, and I wouldn’t be doing it still.”
Sarah laughed at Momma’s account of how she got stuck with a bad chore. It reminded her of a saying that her Grandmother had: “A man likes to feel needed. Let him dig the wells.” She used the phrase anytime she did an unpleasant task, like raking out the stalls.
September 16th, 1865--Dover, Pennsylvania
The women were in the parsonage getting ready; the men waited in the church. Annie was wearing a dress of sapphire blue taffeta. She had pinned six full rows of ruffles on her bodice to try to give herself the illusion of a bosom.
Eliza had fixed Annie’s hair, curling it with rag curlers and pinning it up in a way to show off the curls. Her happiness shone and made her pretty.
Sarah wore the green brocade that Emma made for her. She didn’t need the help of ruffles, but she was having trouble with her hair. "I want it to be pretty and curly like Annie’s," she told Eliza, "but
I don’t know how. I’ve never curled my hair before."
Eliza helped her pin up her hair. She noticed the scars, saying nothing, and worked carefully to cover them without hurting her. There wasn’t time to curl Sarah’s hair, but her hair was wavy enough. It fell from a crown of braided hair in pretty swirls of gold.
Annie admired Sarah’s dress, and Sarah admired Annie’s. Everyone else admired both of them. Momma was enormously proud of the young women who would be her daughters in a little while. She was also proud of her fine sons. This would be a happy day.
It wasn’t customary, but since Sarah had no one to give her away, Poppa got the privilege. Annie was escorted down the aisle by her uncle. Both grooms were beaming at their brides. Hixson’s happiness on this day was colored with anxiety, though.
As the day had grown nearer, his worry over the wedding night grew larger. He imagined she was terrified of it. He was so afraid he would hurt her or that making love with him would make her relive what she had suffered.
It would have been difficult to judge who was more worried. Sarah was mildly concerned that she would be hurt, or that it would feel the same as the assault had felt. She was much more worried that Hixson would not be able to look at her, when the time came. More than anything else, she wanted to be able to be the wife he wanted, and