Dreamwalker's Bride - Chapter 8

A surprising delivery
A week later, Trace had brought in all the harvest he would likely be able to. The crops had sat in the fields for too long, and a storm on the horizon looked like it would dampen his plans to get any more.

Most of his neighbors had helped as long as they could, but they also had their own farms to attend to. His main task now was to get everything stored away before the rain came. It wasn’t an impossible task to dry it out later, but it was far better to never get it wet in the first place.

Trace rolled his shoulders. His muscles protested the hard work after his time in the army. Combat and farming used different sets of muscles, and less consistently, so he had lost some of his strength in needed places.

His body seemed eager to punish him for that.

He was slowly gaining back his muscle mass, but this late in the afternoon, his shoulders were aching. Thunder rumbled in the distance, and he went to open the barn doors and let the animals inside before the storm arrived.

Everyone seemed to remember their place, and he was grateful they came in without complaint, aside from one stupid cow who seemed to want to stare at the clouds.

She evaded his capture twice before he glared at her and tied a rope into a loop to toss around her neck. He was just about to toss it when noise from the front of the house startled her and caused her to slip away once again.

“Blast it!” He complained. “I almost had her!” The stubborn animal would have to find her own shelter for the night, for all he cared.

“Is there a Soldier Trace here?” A voice called, and Trace cringed.

Surely, they hadn’t come this soon to press him back into some form of service to the king. He just wanted a life alone!

He steeled his expression before walking around to the front of the house. To his surprise, a caravan of sorts awaited him there. A man with a sour face looked him up and down.

“I’m Trace,” The farmer said, wiping his hands on his pant leg before offering one for a handshake.

The stranger frowned.

“I am here to deliver your wife.” He said succinctly.

“My what??” Trace exclaimed. The king’s announcement of brides for all the single soldiers! It had completely slipped his mind in his quest to put his farm back into working shape. He cringed.

“The others in this region have been given their assigned wives already, you got the last one.” The man continued.

Trace’s heart sank. Not only was he being assigned a wife without his input, but she was the very last one. Did that mean she was the reject, unwanted by anyone else?

That couldn’t be good.

“Where is she?” He asked uncertainly, looking over the man’s shoulder.

“Girl, come out here!” The caravan leader shouted.

Trace heard a heavy sigh before someone hopped down from the front wagon. As she came into view, his eyebrows knit together in confusion. There weren’t all that many redheads in the world, and that shade of auburn…

“You?” Trace blurted out.

Her eyes flew to his. They were as blue as cornflowers, and they filled with such a strange tumult of emotion he couldn’t begin to unwind it all.

As she approached, so did an official.

“I present to you Anaisa. By the power vested in me by King Harold, I pronounce you man and wife.” He said briefly. “I wish you all happiness.”

“Congratulations,” The wagon driver said, walking away. “We’ll be off.”

“That… that’s it?” Trace asked in bewilderment. They just dropped a woman on his doorstep, pronounced them married, and left?

“If you would prefer a longer ceremony, I can oblige, but this is legally binding.” The official looked at the mounting clouds. “I would prefer to not be out in the storm, however, and want to get back to the nearest town before it begins.”

“Understandable.” Trace nodded. He didn’t particularly want to shelter these men in his one-room home.

With a short bow, the men loaded up and the caravan departed his land, leaving Trace alone once more.

But with an extra person.

“Um, hello.” He said, trying to smile. “I’m Trace. I don’t remember if I introduced myself before.”

“Anaisa,” She repeated what the official had called her.

“That’s a lovely name,” Trace nodded. “How strange we should meet again… like this.”

“Yes,” She mused, apparently not in a talkative mood. Thunder rumbled, and Trace looked at the sky.

“We should probably get in–” The downpour began suddenly, before he finished his sentence. He grabbed for her hand to pull her to the house, but she yanked it away.

Shaking his head, he bolted for the front door, holding it open long enough for her to precede him inside.

They were both perfectly drenched.

She stood there, dripping on the floor, looking miserable, and his heart went out to her. She held a small bag of what must be her possessions.

“I’m sorry the house isn’t any bigger,” He grimaced. “I built it myself for… just myself. I didn’t have a need for more than one room.”

“That’s… understandable.” She echoed his response to the official’s words earlier.

“I can step outside if you want to get changed in private,” He offered lamely. There was a very small covered porch in the front, but it was likely he would get more soaked as the rain blew against the house.

“There’s no need,” Anaisa replied. “This is my only dress; I have nothing to change into.”

“You don’t have anything else?” He asked in surprise.

“They gave me this dress, and a nightdress,” She responded. Thunder rumbled again, and the home became noticeably darker.

“Let me light a candle,” He suggested. “Or start a fire?”

It wasn’t terribly cold out, but with how wet they both were, it wouldn’t be the worst idea to start the night’s fire early. Anaisa shivered slightly and nodded, and Trace got to work.

He wasn’t sure what to say to this strange woman… his wife. He tried to remember how his parents interacted when he was younger, but came up empty on how he should treat a wife he just officially met a few minutes ago.

“If it’s not a terribly rude question,” He began, not looking directly at her, “how did you wind up being the last one?”

“What do you mean?” She seemed defensive, and he grimaced, deciding blatant honesty was best.

“You’re very pretty, and I doubt the other men conducted lengthy interviews or anything. I just cannot imagine any set of criteria that would reasonably result in you not being picked first.” He concluded.

“They didn’t pick, we were all assigned,” Her voice changed a little.

“So you saw all the other assignments along the way?” Trace glanced at her before he blew to stoke the little flames he had started into a full fire, and put in a split log from next to the hearth.

“I was not envious of any of the other girls.” She confessed, and he chuckled at her delicate way of phrasing her opinion.

“Knowing my fellow soldiers as well as I did, I can’t say that I blame you for that.”

He finished stoking the fire and sat back from it before blinking and leaping to his feet to retrieve his one chair.

“I’ll have to make another chair,” He decided, “but in the meantime, please do sit.”

He moved it closer to the fire and gestured for her to sit down. She did so, warily, and her eyes slid to the corner. He followed her gaze.

One bed.

He cleared his throat. The uncomfortable topic would have to be addressed sometime before nightfall. Probably sooner was far better than later. He hoped they would be able to talk about it without things becoming too awkward.

“Like I said, I built this house for just me.” He frowned. “I… we can get to know each other slowly, if you’d like. There’s no rush on this marriage.”

He took a steadying breath before plunging ahead.

“I’ll be honest. I’d completely forgotten about the king’s bridal decree until five minutes ago when you arrived and we got married. I haven’t given this any thought, or planned for it at all. I’m still not entirely sure how to feel about it, but it’s done, so I suppose we’ll have to make the best of it.”

Anaisa looked at him, really looked at him, for the first time. She took a deep breath and he leaned forward a bit, more eager than he realized for a glimpse into what she thought of him, of this whole strange situation.

“We don’t have to ‘make the best of it.’ You could… forget this ever happened, and send me away as soon as the rain stops. If you want to.” She said slowly. “No one here needs to know you married me.”