Shivaree
In the sparsely populated frontier town of Pioneer Bluffs, there were a limited number of young adults of marriageable age. In fact, there were only nine—four men and five women. Although not exactly an arranged marriage, it was understood by all parties concerned that Clayton Huddleston would marry Betty Sue Tomlin when they became of age since their families were neighbors, and the young couple would eventually jointly inherit the contiguous parcels of fertile farmland.
Clint Grissom, one of the three other bachelors, believed that of the remaining eligible women, he would most likely end up marrying Alva Meachum. She was a nice girl, a kind, caring person, and she would no doubt make him a good wife and be a wonderful mother should they be blessed with children. However, it was Becky Conaway who stole his heart. The blond-haired, blue-eyed temptress was by far the most beautiful girl in Pioneer Bluffs, if not on the entire American frontier.
I might just as well wish I was the president of the United States or the King of England as to ever dream she would marry me, Clint thought with longing when he saw Becky at Kunkle's General Store one day.
Although the blond beauty had never actually promised her hand to any suitor, everyone in Pioneer Bluffs assumed she would marry Jed Rawley, who was as handsome as she was beautiful. Clint was envious but not jealous. Yes, he wished he could marry Becky himself, but he would not hold it against either her or Jed if they did marry, especially since Jed had been his best friend since early childhood.
Surprisingly, the young man in question had yet to propose to his sweetheart.
If I was to ask Becky to be my wife, I sure wouldn't waste any time. I'd be looking forward to our nuptials and, more importantly, to our wedding night.
Clint sighed and put the idea out of his mind. It was not good to dwell on a romance that was never meant to be. Jed would be the lucky man to walk Becky down the aisle. She would become his wife and bear his children.
Despite the fact that he was resigned to marrying Alva, Clint put off issuing the actual proposal several times. They were both still young, he reasoned, so he had plenty of time to make a commitment. Still, he knew it would not be long before his parents urged him to find a bride. When they did, he would go seek Alva's father and ask for her hand.
It was in the late spring, after the crops were in the ground, that Clint's parents finally broached the subject.
"When I was your age," his mother began, "I was already married and expecting you."
"Have you got anyone in mind?" his father asked as though the town were teeming with single young women.
"I suppose I'll ask Alva Meachum to marry me."
"Fine gal. Ought to make you happy, son," the father declared.
"I was afraid you'd had your heart set on that Becky Conaway," Mrs. Grissom said with obvious signs of relief. "I'm glad to see you don't."
"What's wrong with Becky?" Clint asked, quick to come to the young woman's defense.
"Nothing's wrong with her. I like her, and I'm sure she'll be a good wife ... for Jed Rawley but not for you."
"Why not? What's wrong with me?"
"Ain't nothing at all wrong with you! You're a good man, one Alva Meachum is sure to appreciate. It's just that sometimes pretty gals like Becky Conaway don't make the best wives. She needs a strong man like Jed Rawley to keep her in line. Hell, if a good-natured person like you was to marry a gal like that, she'd walk all over you."
While Clint did not agree with his mother, he dared not argue with her. First, it would be disrespectful for a son to correct his mother. And, second, he did not want anyone to know his true feelings for Becky. He had his pride, after all, and did not want anyone pitying him when she married Jed Rawley.
"When do you plan on popping the question?" his father asked.
"I really haven't decided yet."
"The fall would be a good time, after the harvest is in."
"The fall it is then," Clint said, knowing his father's statement was more than a helpful suggestion; it was a deadline.
* * *
Two weeks after Clint had discussed his marriage plans with his parents, the people of Pioneer Bluffs were stunned to learn of the sudden death of Orville Kunkle, the owner of the general store and the wealthiest man in town.
"What do you suppose will become of the store now?" Clayton Huddleston asked Clint as the two men were leaving church after Sunday services.
"Didn't Old Man Kunkle have any brothers or cousins somewhere to take it over?" Clint inquired.
"To my knowledge, the only family he had was his wife."
A smile passed on the lips of both young men. Orville Kunkle's marriage had created quite a scandal in Pioneer Bluffs two years earlier. Sixty-four-year-old Orville had travelled back east on business and returned two months later with a fourteen-year-old bride.
"I can't see her running the business," Clint said. "Can you?"
"No. Maybe she'll sell it and go back east," Clayton replied.
Neither young man realized that there was another option left to the young widow: remarriage. Less than a month after her husband's death, Lucinda Kunkle caused tongues to wag in Pioneer Bluffs once again when she announced her engagement to Jed Rawley.
Words cannot adequately describe Clint's incredulity when he heard the news. Suffice it to say he was dumbfounded when Alva Meachum told him.
"Did you hear me?" the young woman asked. "I said Jed is going to marry ...."
"Yeah, I heard you. I just can't believe it."
"Why do you find it so surprising? Jed would be a fool to pass up such a union."
"I always assumed he was going to marry Becky."
"Given the single women he had to choose from, of course, he would have married Becky. She's by far the most beautiful, but she can't offer him what Lucinda can. When Old Man Kunkle died, he left her not only the general store but a small fortune as well."
"Becky must be heartbroken," Clint said, worrying about how she would react to the news of Jed's engagement.
"She'll get over it soon enough," Alva declared cynically. "Women like her always do."
"What do you mean by 'women like her'?" Clint asked angrily, wondering why both Alva and his mother spoke of Becky so disparagingly.
"Women who always get what they want."
"She didn't get what she wanted this time, though, did she? Jed is going to marry Lucinda Kunkle."
"I daresay someone else will come along soon enough, and Becky will sink her claws into him."
* * *
Clint stood on the dirt road in front of the Conaway farm, trying to summon the courage to walk up to the house and knock on the door. As he shifted his weight from foot to foot, he carefully scripted the words he would say, repeatedly faltering when he got to the point where he would ask Becky to marry him.
What if she turns me down? he wondered, already suffering the misery of rejection. What do I mean 'if'? I must be crazy to I think I actually stand a chance of marrying the most beautiful woman in the territory.
Clint did not try to fool himself. He was reasonably good looking but by no means as handsome as Jed Rawley. Also, he did not have as profitable a farm as Clayton Huddleston, although there was no danger of Clayton breaking his engagement to Betty Sue, not even to marry Becky.
What have I got to offer a wife? he thought despondently.
Funny, he never asked himself this question when he decided he would propose to Alva Meachum. She, no doubt, would be glad just to find a husband, given the shortage of eligible men in Pioneer Bluffs.
It was at the point when his courage completely failed him and Clint was about to return home without even speaking to Becky that she came out of the house and waved to him from the stoop. The shy young man panicked. His first thought was to pretend he did not see her and escape their meeting, but then Becky shouted his name across the yard. He could not very well pretend to be deaf and blind, so he waved back.
"Come on inside," Becky called. "My mother baked a cake today, and I was just about to have a piece."
There's no reason I can't pay a call on a friend. I'm sure she won't think I came here with marriage on my mind.
"Did you hear the news about Lucinda Kunkle?" Becky asked as she cut two slices of her mother's cinnamon apple pound cake.
Clint was astonished that there was excitement rather than sadness in her voice.
"Yes," he replied. "I admit I was surprised to hear it."
"You and everyone else. Imagine marrying so soon after losing your husband? But then, I'm sure her marriage to Orville Kunkle was one of convenience. I mean what pretty young gal would fall in love with a man old enough to be her grandfather?"
"It's not her wanting to remarry that surprised me so much as Jed asking her in the first place. I naturally assumed he and you ...."
Clint stopped talking when he saw the stunned look on Becky's face.
"Me and Jed? Whatever gave you such an idea? We're just friends, same as I'm friends with Clayton Huddleston and Morgan Weeks. I never intended on marrying any of them."
Of the four eligible bachelors in Pioneer Bluffs, Becky professed no desire to marry three of them. That left only one: Clint himself.
"Don't you consider me your friend?" he asked pitifully.
Her eyes softened, and her cheeks blushed a pretty shade of pink. When she replied, she cast her eyes demurely down at the slice of cake.
"I always thought of you as much more than a friend."
Clint's heart did a dance in his chest. Although encouraged by her words, he still lacked the gumption to speak his mind. Thankfully, Becky—as Alva had described her—was a woman who always got what she wanted. If she had not been, Clint might never have found the courage to propose.
"Oh, there's no use in me trying to hide my feelings," Becky said, her eyes now looking directly into his. "I've been waiting for you to ask me, but I suppose you'd prefer to marry Alva Meachum."
"I ... I ...."
Here was his chance. All he had ever wanted was within his grasp if he just had the confidence to reach, but again it was Becky who took the initiative.
"Well, are you going to propose to Alva or not?"
"I'd much rather marry you," Clint blurted out, slurring all five words into one barely recognizable phrase.
His enunciation notwithstanding, Becky had no difficulty interpreting his gibberish as an official proposal of marriage.
"Yes," she agreed triumphantly. "I'll marry you!"
* * *
Out of respect for her recently deceased husband, Lucinda Kunkle chose to wed Jed Rawley in a quiet ceremony with only his parents present. Becky Conaway, on the other hand, invited almost half the people of Pioneer Bluffs to attend her wedding.
Although Clint's engagement came well before his father's suggested deadline of "after the harvest is in," the couple planned on a June wedding. Not only was the month a favorite one of brides, but the warm weather would allow the reception to be held out of doors. This was crucial because none of the buildings in Pioneer Bluffs could hold all the guests Becky had invited.
Preparations for the wedding took weeks. Becky's mother, grandmothers, sisters, aunts, cousins and neighbors pitched in by cooking and baking. The men in the family helped out by constructing makeshift tables and benches so that everyone could sit down to a meal after the ceremony. Even the children were put to work gathering flowers to decorate the church and the tables.
Ironically, the bride contributed little to the preparations. The most time-consuming task she undertook was standing in front of the local seamstress for her dress fitting.
On the day of the big event, Clint arrived early at the meeting house. Jed, his best man, soon joined him. For the next twenty minutes, a seemingly never-ending stream of wedding guests entered the church. Once the pews were filled, people began standing wherever they could find room. The nervous groom wiped his sweaty palms on his handkerchief.
"Relax," Jed said with a laugh.
"What if Becky changes her mind?"
"Trust me; she won't."
"You don't know that."
"I know Becky better than you do," the best man boasted. "Better than anyone does, I'll wager. She'll be here."
Clint tried to stifle the twinge of jealousy he felt.
I've got nothing to worry about, Clint reasoned. Jed is married to someone else.
The groom's fears were allayed when Becky appeared in the church doorway looking like a princess from a fairy tale. Her dress was decorated with pearl buttons and lace that had come all the way from New York. Roses were placed in the blond curls that were piled atop her head. One look at his beloved set Clint's heart fluttering.
The ceremony went smoothly. The bride and groom exchanged their vows and left the church as man and wife. Of the dozens of people who attended the post-ceremony party, no one was happier than the groom.
She's my wife! he thought with pride every time his eyes fell on Becky.
The guests partied all afternoon and late into the evening. If the majority of the attendees were not farmers who had to be awake before dawn, the reception might have continued into the early morning hours. Becky, who enjoyed being the center of attention, wanted the celebration to continue indefinitely, but Clint was eagerly looking forward to the pièce de résistance of the day: the wedding night.
After accepting the best wishes of friends and family, the couple drove off in Clint's wagon to spend the night in Orville Kunkle's old house next to the general store. The place, which had been empty since the widow remarried and moved into a grander home, was currently for sale. Jed and Lucinda generously offered the newlyweds the place for a few days.
When he entered the dark house, Clint's eager anticipation was matched only by his nervousness. Neither he nor Becky had wanted to spoil the magic of the wedding night by consummating the marriage beforehand. Now that the time had finally come, he prayed reality would live up to his expectations.
"I'm plum tuckered out from all that dancing," Becky said, giggling from the large amount of hard cider she had consumed.
"I hope you're not too tired. This is our wedding night, after all."
"Oh, that! What's the big rush? Can't it wait until tomorrow night?"
Clint's response was drowned out by a cacophony of music, shouting and laughter outside. A shivaree. The groom had hoped his friends would forget the custom of serenading the newlyweds on their wedding night, but apparently such was not the case. He went to the window and peeked through the curtain. There were more than a dozen revelers, several of whom were banging on pots and pans while the others drunkenly sang and danced in the street. Only Jed and Clayton were missing.
They've got more sense than those fools, Clint thought only moments before there was a loud pounding on the door.
When Becky opened it, Jed and Clayton rushed into the room, threw a blanket over Clint's head and quickly tied him up.
"You know the rules," the best man laughed, hoisting the bride over his shoulder. "If you want your wife back, you have to pay a ransom."
Clayton stayed behind while Jed disappeared into the night with Becky. After the two of them had gotten away, he untied Clint.
"Very funny!" the groom said sarcastically.
"Ah, don't get mad," Clayton said good-naturedly. "It's all part of the wedding ritual. In another month, it will be my turn."
"We didn't have a shivaree for Jed."
"That's because he married a widow who was still in mourning. Now, what do you plan on using to pay your ransom—not that Jed needs anything after marrying such a rich wife."
"I don't have much money," Clint admitted.
"You don't need to give him money. A farm tool or a sack of feed would do. It's just a token."
"I suppose I can give him my cufflinks," the groom said, looking down at his wrists. "I doubt I'll get much use out of them on the farm."
* * *
Early the following morning Clint showed up at his best man's house. Jed was dressed for work as the new proprietor of the general store and eating breakfast with Lucinda.
"What are you doing here at this hour?" Jed asked with surprise when the housekeeper showed the newlywed into the dining room. "Shouldn't you be with your wife?"
"I should, but Becky is nowhere to be found. I haven't seen her since you took her away last night. I was hoping she was here."
"No. I waited for an hour or so last night and then released her."
"Well, she never showed up."
"I drove her back to the house myself," Jed insisted. "I delivered her safe and sound right to the front door."
"Did you see her go inside?"
"No, it was dark, and I stayed with the horse. But she must have went inside. Where else could she have gone?"
It was a question that most of the citizens of Pioneer Bluffs would ask.
For four days volunteers searched the town and surrounding farms, yet there was no sign of the missing bride. As could be expected, Clint was bereft. He refused to eat and barely slept, preferring to personally lead the search for his wife.
"This is all Jed's fault," he was heard to say on more than one occasion. "If something has happened to her, I'll never forgive him."
If it was any comfort to the anxious groom, Jed had difficulty forgiving himself. Even though he had never intended to cause Becky any harm, there was no denying that his childish behavior had put her in danger.
There were several theories as to what had happened to her: tired and more than a little tipsy, she could have fallen and injured herself and then wandered off somewhere looking for help. While this was the least likely scenario, it was the one that offered the best chance of the missing woman being found alive. Another theory was that she had been captured by Indians. This was also highly unlikely since relations between the residents of Pioneer Bluffs and the native people were friendly. There had not been any hostilities between the two groups in over a decade. Another theory was that her abductor was a man of her own race. The reason for her kidnapping was obvious: she was a beautiful and desirable woman.
There was yet another possibility that occurred to Jed Rawley: what if Becky had left of her own accord?
"Why would she do that?" Lucinda asked when her husband put forth the suggestion.
"Maybe she changed her mind about wanting to be Clint's wife."
"For Becky's sake, I hope you're right since that would mean she's still alive. Either way, I feel sorry for Clint. If she isn't found—alive or dead—he'll spend the rest of his life wondering what became of her."
The following afternoon, five days after the ill-fated wedding, the searchers' worst fears were realized and their hopes dashed. Becky Grissom's body was found in a wooded thicket at the bottom of a ravine, three miles from Orville Kunkle's house.
Clint was beside himself when his wife's remains were brought to Doc Peavey's office for examination. And at a time when it was considered unmanly to show emotion, he broke down and cried like a baby.
"What do you suppose killed her?" asked the blacksmith who had carried the corpse into the house. "Some kind of animal?"
After one glance at the bruises on the bride's throat, Doc Peavey replied, "It was an animal all right. A two-legged one. This poor gal's been murdered."
* * *
Sheriff Otis Melville had never conducted a murder investigation. The closest he had come to solving a homicide was having arrested Hank Wilson for manslaughter when he accidentally killed Clark Simmons in a drunken brawl at the local saloon. Consequently, his skills at detection were minimal.
"Who was the last person to see the deceased alive?" Otis asked the assembled mourners after Becky's funeral.
"Jed Rawley," the bereaved groom replied. "Best I know, no one saw her after he kidnapped her on our wedding night."
"It wasn't an actual kidnapping," Jed explained guiltily. "It was only a shivaree."
The lawman nodded his head. Shivarees were a common custom on the frontier, a lighthearted form of entertainment, and to his knowledge, no one had ever gotten seriously hurt during one.
"Is there anybody who might have wanted to harm her? A jilted boyfriend perhaps?"
"She never had a real boyfriend except for Clint," Jed was quick to reply.
The sheriff had several more questions, none of which helped shed any light on the murder.
"Thank you all for your cooperation," the lawman concluded. "If any of you think of something that might help us catch the varmint who did this, please don't hesitate to come find me."
Moments after he got back to the jail, Otis had a visitor: Clint Grissom, the dead woman's husband. His tear-stained eyes were a testament to his misery.
"You wanted to know if my wife had a jilted boyfriend."
"Did she?" the sheriff asked, raising his eyebrows.
"Not exactly. I think she was the one who was jilted."
"Have a seat. Tell me all about it."
"Everyone knew she and Jed Rawley were sweet on each other and expected the two of them to get married. But then Orville Kunkle dropped dead, and out of the blue Jed married his widow, a woman who inherited her husband's money and his business."
"To be honest with you, I don't see this as a motive for murder. Suicide, maybe—but Doc Peavey swears your wife was strangled."
"What if her death wasn't what he intended. What if it had started out as a harmless shivaree? When Jed took her away, they might have argued. Maybe she accused him of abandoning her, or perhaps he admitted he made a mistake in marrying Lucinda. Both of them had been drinking that day. They could have said anything. You know how people act when they're under the influence of alcohol."
"So, you think Rawley, your best man and your closest friend since childhood, killed your wife."
"Yes. I'm sure if it weren't for him, my wife would be alive today."
After his conversation with the widower, Sheriff Melville questioned Jed's other friends. All confirmed Clint's story. Every one of them had been surprised when Rawley married Lucinda Kunkle and not Becky Conaway.
"Well, that just about wraps this case up," Otis told his wife when he returned home later that evening. "Jed Rawley had a history with the dead girl, he was the last one to see her alive and no one can corroborate his account of dropping her off on her doorstep the night she disappeared."
"His account of things does sound a bit far-fetched," the sheriff's wife commented. "A gentleman would have walked a lady to the door and made sure she got safely inside."
Otis's mother-in-law, who lived with the Melvilles, added, "A gentleman would also have waited a respectable amount of time before marrying a widow. Orville Kunkle was still fresh in his grave when Rawley pilfered his wife, his business and his money. A man like that might do anything—even snatch a bride from her groom on their wedding night and murder her."
Thus it was for multiple sins that Jed Rawley was condemned by the people of Pioneer Bluffs. And in the absence of witnesses or evidence that could point to another suspect, he was arrested, tried and found guilty of Becky's murder. Although he swore his innocence to the bitter end, the handsome young man eventually hanged for the crime.
* * *
After a year of mourning for the dearly departed Becky, Clint Grissom asked Alva Meachum to marry him. Although she smarted at having been his second choice, Alva quickly accepted his proposal.
Clint's parents were delighted by the news.
"I always did think she was a fine gal," his father said. "Ought to make you happy, son."
"She's the one for you," his mother added, echoing the sentiments she expressed before his first marriage. "You're a good man, and you'll make Alva a wonderful husband."
None of them mentioned Becky's name. It was as though Clint had never married her, as though she never even existed.
* * *
"What's this?" Alva asked as she was removing her husband's belongings from what was now her side of the dresser.
"It's a cufflink," Clint replied, quickly turning his head away from the piece of jewelry.
"Where's the mate to it?"
"I don't know. I haven't seen it since ... since the last time I wore them."
"That was the day of your first wedding, wasn't it?"
Clint gravely nodded his head in reply.
"I might be able to find the mate."
"Don't bother. It can be anywhere. Why don't you just throw that away?"
"Nonsense! This looks like it might be worth something."
Clint turned his head away and explained, "It brings back too many painful memories. I was going to give my cufflinks to Jed as ransom."
"The shivaree," Alva said with mixed emotions.
On the one hand, she was sorry that so much tragedy had resulted from a harmless prank; on the other, she was glad Clint's first marriage came to an end.
"I can see why you don't want to have it around then."
With his wife back to rearranging the dresser drawers, Clint walked out to the kitchen, intent on getting rid of the cufflink. Memories of that dreadful shivaree came rushing back despite his having successfully buried them for more than a year.
As his best friend, Clint instinctively knew where Jed had taken Becky after playfully kidnapping her. A good sport, Clint went to the old barn to pay the ransom and rescue his wife. When he saw the best man and the bride through the half-open barn door, he stopped in his tracks. Although she had claimed to be too exhausted to consummate her marriage with Clint, she had more than enough energy for a romantic tryst with Jed.
Rather than confront his unfaithful bride and his disloyal friend, Clint returned to Orville Kunkle's house. As the groom sat by the window watching for his wife's return, his heartbreak and resentment blossomed into full-blown rage. His hands were clenched into fists as he heard the sound of Jed's horse galloping down the street. The animal stopped in front of the house, and moments later Becky opened the front door and stepped inside. Furious at her betrayal, Clint did not even give her the opportunity to explain. He strangled the life out of her the moment the door closed behind her.
Once his hunger for revenge on Becky was sated, Clint turned his wrath on Jed, the best friend who had cuckolded him. Rather than murder him with his own hands as he had done with his wife, he would instead let the law do it for him. In the middle of the night, long after everyone in town had gone to bed, Clint loaded Becky's body in the back of his wagon and drove it three miles away, where he dumped it down the ravine. The corpse having been disposed of, all Clint had to do was play the grief-stricken husband until the body was found. Then, once the funeral was over, he cast suspicion on his own best friend, a man whose name had been the subject of gossip since his impulsive marriage to a rich widow.
It's just like Ma once told me, he thought as he tossed the cufflink into the trash. Sometimes pretty gals don't make the best wives. I'm sure if my mother knew what I did, she'd be proud of me. Even though I wasn't able to keep Becky in line, at least I stopped her from walking all over me.
Salem likes life on the frontier: space, the final frontier, that is.
