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“Ember Davenport,” Scarecrow says. “Christopher Davenport.” His words break our kiss. “You are now joined as one under God.”
As I look upon this delicate flower, I want to make my own wedding vows to her.
I want to promise her we will find a way to leave this Hell.
I want to make a vow that she will never have to live this existence again.
I want to offer my words for a future that will be better, safer, and normal.
On this land, in Hallelujah Junction and in the eyes of all who stand and look upon me, Ember is my wife.
She is my captive bride.
16
Ember
I dreamed of this day.
When hopelessness surrounded me, that my existence would be nothing more than being the ghost of Hallelujah Junction, I had dreamed of a Prince Charming arriving from afar who would kiss away all the bad and bring me only good.
I stand before my Prince Charming.
My husband.
I know this isn’t what he wants. I know he wants to be free. I know he wants my father dead. But I also know fate has brought him here for a reason. Maybe he simply doesn’t know it yet. Maybe it’s my job to show him.
I know I can make him happy if I work really hard.
I know I can give him love and tenderness.
I can be a good wife. I know I can. I just have to convince him of that fact.
Papa Rich and Scarecrow leave us alone in the schoolhouse. The act alone shows that the marriage changes things. We aren’t going to have to spend our wedding night in the cold cellar. Papa Rich only had one dictate, and one that I am prepared to follow.
“You will lay this white sheet beneath you as you consummate the marriage. God will expect to see the signs of the union.”
He wanted proof of Christopher taking my virginity.
But I will do that. I will do anything if it means Christopher can remain in my private sanctuary.
Christopher and I hadn’t exchanged any words since our vows, but now that we stand in the schoolhouse alone, I feel it’s my duty to break the ice. “This is where I spend most of my time. I have a room in the main house, but I still prefer this place.” I point to the windows. “There’s a lot of sunshine.” I point to the old wood-burning stove. “And we can use this to heat the place in the winter. Not while there are tourists or they’ll see the smoke, but we can soon when the tourists leave.”
Christopher slowly meanders to the window that overlooks the town. The same window I was at when I watched Papa Rich hit him upside the head.
Because of the chain, I have no choice but to go with him.
“The ghost of Hallelujah Junction.” He smirks and then looks at me. “Is now my wife.”
My face heats and I look down at the floor at my bare feet. They are dirtier than I like, but I haven’t been able to keep up on the cleaning of the floors since I was in the cellar and I was busy with Christopher even before that.
He refocuses his attention outside the window. “When I took this assignment, to capture the sights of the ghost town known as Hallelujah Junction, I actually worried it would be too boring. I almost declined the job. I mean, who cares about an old mining town anyway? Who would read about that, and who would want to look at pictures of run-down dilapidated buildings? Boring.” He laughs more to himself than anything. “If I only knew.”
We stand there in silence, and I have no idea what to say. I know he’s in pain. I know he’s sad and angry. I want to make it better. I want to make it all go away.
“I don’t know how to be a wife,” I confess, feeling like I have to be honest.
He chuckles, still looking outside. “Oh, I can pretty much guarantee I have no idea how to be a husband either.”
I swallow against the lump in my throat and glance over my shoulder at the mattress on the floor with the bedding piled on top of it. The white sheet on top of the other blankets brings me back to the reality of what’s going to occur soon.
He’s going to take my virginity.
“Papa Rich said that tonight is going to hurt.”
Christopher turns his head and looks at me with confusion. “What are you talking about? What’s going to hurt?”
“When you claim me,” I say softly, not being able to look him in the eye as I say the words. “He said it’s my duty and that I must just endure the pain. I’m scared,” I confess.
“Jesus,” he says as he runs his hands through his hair and looks out the window again. “I’m not going to claim you. I would never hurt you, and I sure as hell wouldn’t take what isn’t given. He can force many things, but he sure as fuck can’t force me to have sex with you.”
