Before the Storm

Texas, Lone Ridge 1852

“Lord, why?” Anna Williams, Annie to her loved ones, questioned as tears blurred her vision even as they ran down her smooth cheeks.

Today, for the first time in her young life, she realised her loved ones were fewer than she believed. How had it come to this? She hadn’t done anything to deserve such pain, such heartache.

“I’m never going to trust another man as long as I live”, Annie declared in a broken voice. Her hand clutched at the pain ruthlessly tearing through her core as she stood in the middle of the field on their ranch.

How could her trust have been betrayed so thoroughly? Why would someone who had claimed to love her for so many years find it so easy to cast her aside? Was she so unworthy? Had the love they had shared for so long meant nothing?

Her mind, broken, sought to find a clue that she had missed, yet could find none. The day had started off fine. With the morning sun gracing it as if it were the first day God had ever made. The rays had been golden as they shone through the window into her bedroom as she got ready.

“You make as fine a bride as your ma did on her day,” Old Ma had stated as she smiled her toothless smile at her. She was sitting in the lone chair by the window overlooking the blooming gardens below.

Annie twirled in front of the mirror as a wide smile graced her already radiant face. “Truly?” she asked, pleasure fusing the tone of her voice.

“Yes, child,” Old Ma answered, the smile on her weathered face gentling, her old eyes shining with the warmth of love as she gazed at Annie. “Your ma was a sweet one. And she sure was pretty, just like you, girl.”

“Don’t make me cry today, Grandma, you know I don’t look good after a cry.”

“Pshh, crying is for ninnies, I didn’t raise no nincompoop.” Annie looked at her through the mirror and saw the moue she had expected. Her grandmother’s hair was now all white, but her grey eyes were still as sharp and incisive as ever. She sat with her back ramrod straight. Annie had never seen her slouch in all her life, and she had been insistent that Annie learn that posture. “Now, finish up now. Your dad will be calling you down soon.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Annie replied, a smile in her voice as she recognised the love in her grandmother’s harsh tone.

Annie turned back to the mirror and gave herself a critical eye. She looked good if she did say so. Her chestnut brown hair was in intricate braids, as befitting a bride. White roses that were her dad’s pride and joy were woven into it, together with some wildflowers that her grandmother loved.

She wore her mother’s lace-covered wedding gown. Her mother had handmade the intricate lace during the year her parents had been betrothed. Even though she had died when Annie was too young to remember, the gown made her feel as if she were with her.

Annie had had a good life; her grandmother took on the role of her mother, so she lacked nothing. Yet the knowledge that her mother was dead had, at times, made her miss the bond. There were things her grandmother had always been too old to do, and that had left Annie wondering if her mother would have done them with her. And when she saw others with siblings, she ached that her mother was dead and she had never had one.

Today, though, she was too happy to be in that frame of mind. Today, everything was perfect.

As if she had heard his mother’s declaration, her father called up. “Annie, it’s time to leave. Can’t keep the groom waiting.”

With more haste than was dignified, Annie rushed out of her room and down the stairs. Today, she was marrying the love of her life, the young man she had been in love with since she was thirteen. The only reason they had not married then was that their parents had said they were too young.

Her father was waiting for her at the bottom of the stairs, wearing his Sunday best and standing tall. Annie had inherited her brown eyes and slender form from him. He rarely smiled, but when he looked at her, she knew she was loved.

“You look lovely,” he complimented, his hand running around the rim of the hat he had in his hands, a habit of his.

“Thanks, Da.” She smiled at him, a wide smile that ached her cheeks. “Now, can we leave? I don’t want to be late.”

His lips twitched, his eyes lighting with amusement before he opened the door for her. Outside, their covered wagon was parked by the front door, their foreman sitting on the driver’s bench. It was decked with flowers and looked much better than it usually did.

Leading her to it, her father opened the door and helped her inside. Annie sat on the inside bench, and her father came in after her, then her grandmother. Their ranch wasn’t far from town, and they could see the church steeple from it.

She could picture the stone and timber building that was the centre of their town. It was weathered from the harsh Texan sun and the occasional storm, but still stood strong and resilient, the bastion of their community. Today, everyone comes together for her big day.

Soon her father was helping her down and into the back room of the church. Annie frowned at that. She was supposed to come in from the front. That should have warned her, but she had been too excited and sat down to wait. And she had waited.

“Why are we waiting in the back room?” she asked her Da, confusion in her voice.

“Your groom isn’t here yet,” her father explained.

Worry had set in. Annie had wondered if something had happened to him. Andrew had never let her down before; only something terrible would have kept him from her. Yet as the hour went by, she had heard nothing, and the congregation had become restless.

Then, the young boy who worked at his family’s ranch had come in and handed her the note. The same note she now clutched in her hand crumbled.

“I am sorry, Annie, I can’t do this.” The words he had cowardly written echoed in her mind once more, shattering her heart. She sank to her knees, tears streaming down her face.

“Why, God?” she whispered, her voice breaking. “Why would you let this happen? All I wanted was to be a wife and mother. Have you forsaken me?”

Behind her, the sun set, casting long shadows over her, mirroring the darkness that now engulfed her soul. Annie clutched the cross around her neck, seeking comfort in her faith, but found only emptiness and despair.