Total pages in book: 60
Estimated words: 56078 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 280(@200wpm)___ 224(@250wpm)___ 187(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 56078 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 280(@200wpm)___ 224(@250wpm)___ 187(@300wpm)
“Do you like it?” Papa Rich asks from behind me.
I pick up the dress and hold it against me. “Where did you find it? It’s beyond anything… Oh, Papa Rich.” I spin and face him, not being able to control the tears that fall from my eyes. “Thank you. It’s perfect.”
“My daughter only gets one wedding day.”
There’s kindness in his eyes. I see it. For the first time since Christopher arrived, I see a small glimmer of my Papa Rich. He’s not a bad man… not always. Not always.
He approaches me and reaches into his pocket as he does. “I got these for the both of you too.” He pulls out two gold bands and places them in my palm. “Something for you both to wear forever symbolizing your love and unity. And hopefully”—he looks down at his feet and fidgets for a moment—“you remember just how much I love you when you look at it on your finger. I know I have a hard time showing it. I know I’m broken down to the bone, and though I’ve tried so hard not to show you just how jagged my spirit is, I know you’ve seen. You’re a wise woman. Extremely wise. You see with eyes of a woman far older and experienced than your years. You see me… and for that, I’m often disappointed.”
I don’t know what to say, but the tears continue to fall. I love him. Christopher may not understand why, and I get that. But right now. This very moment. I love my father. I can’t control my heart. I can’t control my feelings. And though I should… I can’t help but slip back into time and remember that little girl who was so desperate for love and security.
Papa Rich gave me that.
He saved me.
He loved me.
He kept me.
“You deserve the best,” he says as he steps away from me and gives me the space I need to process. “True love does not find you. You have to find it. You have to fight for it. And though your nature is not one of a fighter, it’s time you learn how. You will have to have an inner strength to be married and to hold that love near at whatever cost.”
I look down at the gold in my palm and picture the rings on my and Christopher’s fingers. The weight of the bands are heavy with hidden tales of my future. They nearly burn.
What is ahead for us?
Once we become husband and wife… then what?
“You go on and get ready, and then I’ll help you with those buttons on the back of your dress,” he says. “We don’t want to keep Scarecrow waiting long. A storm’s brewing and we don’t want him getting caught up in it.”
He leaves my room, and the sense of warmth I briefly felt is suddenly replaced with a deep chill that runs up my spine. But I do exactly as he commands and dress for my wedding.
15
Christopher
There’s a chain around my ankle.
There’s a chain around Ember’s ankle.
We are connected by this chain.
And we are about to be wedded standing before a one-legged pastor who leans on a crutch. The sound of hay rustles beneath his denim pants with the slightest move, and I think it’s fair to say I have never seen a more disgusting creature in my life.
I have officially entered a new phase of Hell.
“Good Lord, bless us on this day,” the pastor known as Scarecrow begins. “Brother Christopher and Sister Ember stand before the Almighty to be crowned under the union of matrimony.”
He looks at Richard who is actually wearing something besides a ranger uniform, although his faded black pants and wrinkled black shirt are far from what I consider fancy.
“Who gives away this woman?” Scarecrow asks.
“I do with the blessing of God. Her father.”
Scarecrow raises his arms up toward the ceiling of the schoolhouse, and I see the sweat stains under his pits. His stench nearly makes me as sick as the act of being forced to marry a woman while literally chained to her. This is my wedding day. No guests other than a madman father, no flowers, no best man or bridesmaids. It’s my wedding day and I wear the same dirty outfit I arrived in—minus the shoes.
Ember, however, is beautiful in a haunted, captivating way. Her long hair hangs down her back and shines beneath the sunlight that invades the room we stand in. The dress she wears is ancient in appearance but still seems to fit her personality and size perfectly. I feel as if I have stepped back in time, trapped in a bleak and dark vortex, yet Ember does offer some light. The blue in her eyes sparkle with happiness.
My heart breaks over her happiness.
She’s happy even though she’s chained to me.