Chapter Two
Joy clutched the window frame of the rattling train. She peered through the smudged glass, mesmerized by the blur of unfamiliar landscapes that whisked past, a tapestry of greens and browns giving way to the encroaching cityscape.
“Bet you’ve never seen anything move this fast on your farm, huh?” quipped a portly gentleman across the aisle, his mustache twitching with amusement.
“Only when the pigs realize it’s bath time,” Joy shot back. She’d always had a knack for finding humor when she was nervous.
As the train pulled into Boston, her grip on the window eased. She smoothed out the wrinkles on Elizabeth’s dress. It wasn’t Elizabeth’s wedding dress, but a formal white dress her sister had worn for some event in town. She’d given it to her to keep, and Joy knew she looked her absolute best.
When she stepped off the train, she immediately began looking around her for Thomas, and she wished she had a photograph of him, so she would be able to spot him among the throng of people.
Boston was a large bustling city, a big contrast to the small town feel of Beckham. There were horse-drawn carriages as well as several automobiles. She’d never been in an auto, and she imagined for a moment what it would be like if Thomas drove one. She could even hear the distant call of ships from the harbor. She was excited to see the ocean for the first time. Even though they hadn’t lived very far from the ocean, her parents had never thought it was necessary to drive and see things like that.
“Wow, those buildings are tall,” Joy muttered, craning her neck.
“Looking for something in particular, miss?” asked a street vendor. “Or just admiring our fair city?”
“Bit of both, I think,” Joy replied. “I’m here to marry, so I’m just taking it all in.”
“Best wishes to you!” he replied to her.
“Let’s see if this farm girl can bloom in Beantown.”
Thomas Worthington’s nerves felt as if they’d get the best of him. He clutched a bouquet of carefully chosen flowers he’d gotten from a local florist. He said a silent prayer for calm and for his bride to like the flowers he’d chosen.
Around him swirled the usual flurry of the station—travelers bustling, porters shouting, steam hissing from the pistons of an idling train—but Thomas might as well have been alone for all he noticed. His gaze was fixed on the platform where the train carrying Joy would soon arrive.
When the train finally screeched to a halt and the passengers began to disembark, Thomas held his breath, searching for the face that matched the tintype photograph he’d studied so intently. And then, there she was—Joy Miller.
“Mr. Worthington?” she asked. Her eyes were the first thing he noticed. They seemed to be filled with joy. Her name did seem apt.
“Miss Miller,” Thomas replied, extending the bouquet. “Welcome to Boston.”
“Thank you so much,” Joy said, accepting the flowers with a grin. “They’re beautiful.” She buried her face in the flowers with obvious enjoyment.
“The church is just this way,” he said, offering her his arm.
Within moments, they were in front of a congregation of witnesses. “Friends,” the minister began, addressing the small gathering in the modest chapel, “we are here to join this man and this woman in holy matrimony...”
Joy stood beside Thomas, fidgeting slightly under the weight of the lace and silk that felt foreign against her skin.
As they exchanged vows, Joy’s hands were steady, while Thomas’s trembled ever so slightly. When prompted to present the ring, Thomas fumbled with the tiny velvet box, eliciting a giggle from Joy that spread through the room like ripples on a pond.
“Sorry, the ring appears to be a tad nervous,” Thomas apologized.
“Silly ring,” Joy teased gently.
“I think I’ve got it,” he said, finally sliding the ring onto her finger.
“I like the sound of that,” Joy admitted, her smile bright enough to light the chapel.
“Then by the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife,” the minister declared.
“May I kiss the bride?” Thomas asked.
“Isn’t that why we’re all here?” Joy quipped, tilting her chin up.
He kept the kiss brief, barely brushing his lips against hers. She caught the back of his neck and pulled him back when he went to pull away. Finally, she smiled up at him. “I think I may like you, Thomas.”
