Chapter Fifteen: Elizabeth

Some said the older you get, the easier it is to endure hardship. I had to disagree. It was harder to keep going after Mother's death than it had been when Father died.

I'd always known I would outlive my mother. That was the way of things, but I never would have imagined that it would happen this soon or like this. It just wasn't fair, and the condolences of 'she lived a good life' were spectacularly grating.

All of my siblings, except for my youngest brother, returned to Peru for my mother's funeral. My delight at seeing my brothers and sister was marred by the reason they had come. The last time so many of us were together was when Papa died.

Why was it that tragedy brought us together? Why couldn't it be something happy?

Naturally, the house was fuller than it had ever been before. Neighbors stopped to pay their respects. Mother had been a much loved member of the community, and it was bittersweet to see so many come to give their condolences. Where had they been when she'd needed help?

I knew my attitude was not the best. Sickness was a scary thing, and who would willingly put themselves in the way of catching something? Especially something as deadly as consumption? Mother wouldn't fault them for staying away.

Angelica had taken to her bed after Mother died. It seemed she took death hard, though I couldn't say why. Wasn't death upsetting to everyone? I knew it was expected for me to be compassionate toward her, but all I felt was frustration. It fell to me to keep the house running and see to her children. Why? She wasn't the one who cared for Mother, to stay awake at all hours to see to Mother's needs, but I wasn't allowed to fall apart.

A funeral was no time to share good news. I told my sister that I would write to her about what I would do next. Maryanne was gracious enough to accept with no further questions. She was caught up in plans for her first child as it was.

However, I shouldn't have expected to escape a confrontation with one of my brothers. After my siblings left for their own homes, John told me to meet him in the parlor. I left Susan to see to anything Angelica might need and presented myself at the stated time.

"We need to talk," my brother informed me when I stepped into the room. He was walking back and forth in front of the windows. "Sit down where I can see you, Elizabeth."

I had vague memories of my father saying something similar when I was a girl. So. My brother intended for me to be set down and scolded like a wayward child. That would not happen! "You should sit down, John," I said, settling into a chair. "You look like a caged lion pacing like that."

He paused to glare at me before he resumed pacing. I folded my hands in my lap and waited. He'd ordered me here. He could begin the conversation. "Is there something you ought to tell me?" he finally demanded.

"I don't know that I ought to tell you anything, but there is something I would like to tell you." His expression darkened at my pointed answer. I took a deep breath and forged ahead. "As I'm sure you've heard from your wife, I am engaged to be married. Once I have made all the necessary arrangements, I will be joining my betrothed in the Wyoming territory."

John threw his hands up. "I didn't want to believe it," he exclaimed. "I told Angelica she must have misheard you. My sister would never do anything so stupid as to engage herself to someone without telling her family. How can you be engaged? Who is this man? Why is this the first I am hearing about it?"

"Because this is a private matter, and I wanted it to stay that way. Mr. Noah Coleman and I have been corresponding most of the summer. In his last letter, he asked me to join him as soon as I could." There. That was a succinct explanation, wasn't it? "I will begin making my plans soon."

"No. I do not give my permission for this."

A laugh threatened to escape me but I knew that would only make the conversation worse. "John, I am a grown woman. I do not need your permission or blessing for anything I choose to do. You do realize that, don't you?"

My brother's face flushed dark red. "As the head of the family—"

"I am not a child, John," I interrupted. "I am not underage or feeble-minded. Head of the family or not, you do not have the right to tell me what to do. I can make my own decisions."

"You're just going to abandon your family without accepting our advice?"

Though I'd known John would be angry, this level was a surprise. Had he been that set on me marrying Mr. Willis? "I am not abandoning anyone," I told him, striving for an even tone. "You are free to give advice, but I am under no obligation to accept it. You know nothing about Noah—Mr. Coleman. So your advice is flawed."

"And whose fault is it that I don't know this man?" John ran a hand through his hair. The tousled look made him appear younger. "All I know about him is that he is from the South. I can only assume he must have owned slaves. Why would you marry a man we fought against not so long ago?"

So he had dismissed Angelica's story but had listened to enough of the details to know this much. "I don't know if his family had slaves or not. Mr. Coleman did not fight in the war, so you cannot hold that against him. And what does it matter where he is from?"

"I know you're not a simpleton, Elizabeth! Of course, it matters where he is from if you are going to drag him into this family. Who are his people? Even if he didn't fight in the war, his kin may have. That sort of thing could tear this family apart. Do you really want to be responsible for that?"

Scoffing, I shook my head. "I cannot see how it would affect our family. He and I will make our home in Wyoming. Surely that will be enough distance for you to forget he even exists. Besides, if Mother had no objections, you cannot."

Shock flashed across his face. "What? Mother knew about this?"

Good heavens, what had Angelica actually told him? Why had she left out the minor detail that she'd heard about this at Mother's bedside? He couldn't possibly imagine I'd confided in his wife, could he?

"Yes, Mother knew about my correspondence with Mr. Coleman," I informed him. "He even included a note for her in his letters to me. Mother gave me her approval for me to do what would make me happy before she died. Marrying Mr. Coleman will make me happy, and that is all that should matter."

"She can't have known where he was from."

"I promise you she did. You can ask Angelica to confirm it if you doubt my word. She was standing right behind me when I told Mother." I refolded my hands in my lap. If I didn't, I was afraid I might grab something and throw it at my brother's head. "So. If she did not object, you have no reason to complain about my choice."

John's eyes narrowed. "Mother must not have been coherent."

Now he was going too far. "No. You are not going to besmirch our mother's intelligence. You spoke to her before she died. Was she any less the woman who raised us?"

"Well, no but..." John sputtered in frustration. "I am still the head of this family! You can't just make these kinds of decisions without consulting me! What do you really know about this...this—What did you say his name was?"

"Mr. Noah Coleman." Was it wrong of me to be amused that he had fallen back on an arguing point he'd already lost?

My brother waved his hand, though I couldn't interpret what he meant to convey with the gesture. "Fine. This Noah Coleman, if that is even his real name. You might have been taken in by a fraud. At the very least, he may have misrepresented himself to you. Are you really going to throw your life away on a stranger?"

Holding back a sigh, I said, "After the letters I have exchanged with him, I can hardly call him a stranger. He has been forthright and honest."

"You have no way to prove that! It is common knowledge that charlatans and frauds prey on lonely women with these bride advertisements," he argued. "Lies can easily appear to be the truth in letters. You wouldn't know any better."

I leaned forward. "Lonely women? Do you believe I answered the advertisement because I was lonely?"

"I can think of no other reason for you to have done something so incredibly stupid."

I'd failed to live up to his standards since he married Angelica. Nothing I did was ever good enough.

Clenching my hands tightly, I glared at him. "You have repeatedly called into question my intelligence, and you seem to forget this is not the first time this has happened. Tell me. What makes this so reprehensible when young ladies were asked—I would even say encouraged!—to write to soldiers during the war? Molly and I must have written to at least a dozen men! I seem to recall you were proud of our diligence back then."

John sputtered. "W-what? That's hardly the same thing! There was no expectation or-or anything else associated with those letters. It was your civic duty to encourage the men who were fighting for our country."

"No expectations? Then why do I recall at least three of those soldiers informing me that they loved me and would marry me when they returned?" I hadn't thought of those proposals in a long time. It had seemed a lifetime since it had happened.

My brother's face reddened even more. "That was a completely different situation," he insisted. "No one would have expected you to marry those men. All you were supposed to do was encourage them and keep their spirits up in a terrible situation. And nothing came of it in the end. No soldier appeared in town looking for you."

"Because they died." That, at least, was my assumption. It had been thrilling to receive letters from the soldiers. I'd often learned details of confrontations and battles before anyone else in town. "Some of those soldiers were kind men. I would have been proud to marry one of them."

At the time, I would have been young enough to throw my heart at the first man to return from the war.

"Yet here you are! Proclaiming to be engaged to a man from Georgia! How can you go from saying you would have married a man who fought on the right side of the war to marrying a man who was in the wrong?"

"You seem unusually bothered by that detail," I said, echoing Molly's words to me. "Why? If Noah were from Maine or Ohio, would you be so angry?"

"Why? Why? You ask me why I am upset? Who wouldn't be 'bothered', as you say, by the fact that this man comes from a rebel state? His kind, his people, tried to destroy this country! Father would be turning in his grave if he knew you were contemplating marriage to the enemy."

"He was never the enemy! I told you, he left his home state before the war began. Just because he was born in a Southern state doesn't make him a rebel."

"No, it makes him a coward!"

This from the man who paid to have someone else take his place in the draft? I bit my tongue to keep from giving voice to that thought. It would only escalate my brother's temper. "How?" I asked, seeking some way to reason with him. "How does refusing to fight make him a coward?"

"If he wouldn't stand with his kin because they were wrong, he should have stood against them. If a man won't fight for what is right, what kind of man is he?"

Breathing out, I took a moment before I replied, "A man who doesn't want to kill shouldn't be looked down on for not wanting blood on his hands. I would say it takes a great deal of courage to walk away from friends and family who insist a choice must be made. And, there were some—the Quakers, for example—who also chose not to fight."

It was a sentiment that I could relate to. For all my disagreements with Angelica, I'd never want to actually harm her.

"Your feelings have blinded you to reality!"

"And your prejudice has blinded you," I snapped back. So much for remaining calm and logical to reason with him. "What are you really angry about, John? That I am marrying someone from Georgia, or that I am doing so without your knowledge?"

He sputtered. "I'm not...I'm not angry. And I'm not prejudiced! I have every right to be...concerned about you."

"Mhmm. Then perhaps you would like to tell me how long you think the Union states should punish the South. How long should we grind them into the dirt for what they did? Another decade? Fifty years? Maybe forever? Are they never to be allowed to move past their mistake?"

"I did not ask you here to debate the South!"

"You didn't ask me here at all. You ordered me to join you, so you could scold me like a child."

"I am not scolding you. I am—"

"Not scolding?" I interrupted with a laugh. "What would you call it? You are pacing and shouting at me. What word shall we give it if you are not scolding me?"

He came to a halt in front of me. "I'm not yelling," he said through gritted teeth. "I am trying to understand why you would throw your life away. I'm trying to reason with you. Elizabeth. Why would you give up your home like this?"

Weariness swept over me. "My home? This has not been my home since Father died," I informed him simply. Would he even understand? "Since you and Angelica moved in, it has been made clear that it is your home. I am the maiden aunt, who is in the way, who must be put to use."

His expression dumbfounded, John stared at me. "What? Where would you get that idea? Of course this is your home. You're not in the way."

"Right. Then tell me where my room is now?"

Color drained from my brother's face as realization dawned. "Yes," I continued before he could say the words. "In the attic, because the room that used to be mine was needed by the children. What other conclusion was I to draw, John, than that I was in the way?"

His jaw worked as though he wanted to protest, but didn't know what words to say. "Why else would you and Angelica both be so eager to see me out of the house?" I asked. "You encouraged me to marry Mr. Willis at every meal. Angelica planned out my life of going from relative to relative; wherever they need an extra pair of hands. Neither of you asked what I wanted."

He was still staring at me. "So I am choosing my own future," I informed him, since he still didn't seem to know what to say. "I do not wish to marry Mr. Willis. And I do not wish to be the spinster aunt who is called to tend every illness in the family. I will have my own home in Wyoming."

"If you want to marry, I am glad to hear it," John said, finding his voice. He tried to grasp one of my hands, but I kept them firmly clasped together. "It doesn't have to be Mr. Willis since you find him so repugnant, but there are other men in town. We can find someone suitable."

"I have already found someone suitable. Just because you disagree doesn't make it any less true. Noah Coleman is a good man, and he has made a good life for himself. What woman wouldn't accept him?"

Throwing up his hands, John turned away. "So you won't see reason?"

"I won't see your reason, no."

Scoffing, my brother stormed out of the room. I leaned my head back and closed my eyes. It had gone worse than I might have expected. However, I didn't have time to think about it right then.

"Elizabeth Garrison!" Angelica's voice rang out. "What have you done? Why did John leave in such a temper? What did you say to drive him out?"

She'd left her bed. Finally. She could take over the responsibilities of the house while I handled my own affairs. "Never fear, Angelica," I responded, standing up. "I won't be here much longer to drive anyone else out."

From where she stood in the doorway, I could see her eyes widen. "What do you mean? You can't really mean to marry that...that man from Georgia! John said he would speak—"

"John spoke to me and was very clear about what he thinks. But his opinion is immaterial," I interrupted. I walked to her and stopped a foot away from where she stood. "I have my mother's blessing on the matter and I have made my decision. Yes, I am marrying Noah Coleman."

Well, I was going to meet him in Wyoming. Marrying him was a decision I hadn't quite made up my mind about. And he had been gracious enough to acknowledge that perhaps we wouldn't suit once we met.

What would my brother say if that were the case?

"B-but," my sister-in-law sputtered, her eyes wide. "It just isn't done!"

"I think if you were to ‌look through a history book, you will find that it has been done quite a lot." I slipped past her and continued on my way. After all, there was a great deal to be done.

~*~

Dear Noah,

I have begun my preparations. I think I ought to have asked this sooner, but do you have any advice? My clothes are an obvious necessity, but what else should I prioritize? Is there something I should bring that will be impossible to find? It seems there is no brochure or instructional book for me to study.

Naturally, Molly has her ideas. She has apparently consulted relatives who have traveled west. She believes I should have pans in my trunks and food for the journey. Of course, she admits things might be different now with a train that can cross the country instead of covered wagons and oxen.

I am trying to learn as much as I can about how one travels. I've only been as far as my aunt's town, which is not far at all. Maps of Wyoming are difficult to come by. Since you have not mentioned a railroad station being close to you, I suppose I will have to travel by stagecoach when I leave the train. Do you happen to know the name of the stage line that comes into your town?

There is so much to learn!

But I am glad to have something to do. It keeps me occupied and prevents me from thinking too much. My siblings were a comfort when they were here, but they have returned to their homes. I am left with my oldest brother and his wife. I'm afraid they are not as understanding as Mother had been about our correspondence.

I suppose I cannot blame them for their unease. Before I first wrote to you, I did not have a high opinion of advertising for a bride. And now, I cannot imagine where I would be if I did not have you to confide in. Well, I have my imagination and I do not like the direction my thoughts take.

How are things on your homestead? Have matters resolved with your neighbors? I know you were hopeful that you could recover. How much of a setback did you suffer? I hope I will be of help when I arrive...