Jake inched his way through the crowd, Pastor Phillips in tow. He had forgotten completely about the Founder's Day Celebration. Town was packed with every farmer, rancher and their families for miles around. He wondered if Flossie was keeping her family home because of his new bride coming to town. If so, Danny and Millie would have a thing or two to say to their Uncle Jake about missing the biggest party of the year.

Jake didn't need to crane his neck much to look for his bride-to-be. He towered over most of the crowd. And he figured Miss Crawper would be easy to spot. A woman near six foot tall. He guessed she'd be blonde. Hadn't he read somewhere that most folks from those Norwegian countries were blonde? Jake straightened up as he saw upswept blonde hair under a yellow hat. He grabbed the Pastor's arm and yanked him through the crowd.

"Miss Crawper," he shouted when he finally got close enough. "I'm Jake Shelling." The train shifted on the track as the woman turned. Jake couldn't hear her reply but he could see the gauzy fabric moving in front of her mouth.

Miss Crawper sure was gussied up in fancy clothes for a widow woman just off the boat. Jake didn't know much about fashions but having listened to his two sisters for as many years as he had made him sure this woman was wearing expensive, fashionable clothing. He introduced Pastor Phillips over the roar of the crowd. The woman seemed to stand in a daze. But then Jake realized she had no idea what he was talking about.

"And you're sure you want to do this, Miss Crawper?" Pastor Phillips shouted.
The woman's head turned from the Pastor and back to Jake. The crowd shouted in unison as the woman replied. Jake was pretty sure she had repeated her name.

"We know who you are," Jake said slowly and very loud as if he were talking to a child. He pointed to his chest, then to her, then to the bible held in the minister's hand. He motioned as if putting a ring on his finger. She nodded.

Pastor Phillips took the woman's hand, placed it in Jakes' and opened his book. She looked up at him and then at the pastor. He couldn't see her face clearly but he could tell she was a beautiful woman. He had expected her to be big boned. But for her near six foot, this woman was dainty. Not skinny with no meat on her bones but round, and soft and sweet smelling. Delicate looking and shiny as the intricate yellow fabric she wore. Just glowing like the sun from the top of her yellow hat to the matching purse.

The pastor elbowed Jake as he closed his book. Jake slipped the ring over white gloves . . . and hell's fire. His bride had fainted. Jake caught her in his arms as the crowd began to thin away to watch the rodeo scheduled in the pasture behind the train station. Pastor Phillips was fanning her with his hat. Jake held his new bride in his arms easily and surveyed her from her head to her yellow shoes. Hell, this woman wasn't six foot tall. She wasn't five foot tall. Jake looked down at the station platform beside him. A black trunk sat there. Good God. She'd been standing on a trunk. This couldn't be Inga Crawper. Who in the hell had he just married?

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This is a work of fiction. All characters, events, and places are of the author’s imagination and not to be confused with fact. Any resemblance to living persons or events is merely coincidence.